Enduring Winter [Charred Corn and Carrot Green Tabbouleh]


Unlike most springs, my yearning for a shift in diet, heavy in fresh vegetables and lighter fares, seems to be lagging behind with the warmer weather that will seemingly never come. 

We tap our toes impatiently, sigh deep and heavy sighs, and wait. And then wait. And then we wait a little more. Alas, it is still barely above zero in Ottawa some days. The afternoons tease with their warm rays blanketing our faces, uttering the promise of summer, but the cold wind clinging from the winter is persistent and enduring, vowing not to leave until the last drop of winter has been rung from our city. 


It’s been a long, long winter. I can’t imagine it being 35 degrees in this city, as it typically is in the throws of summer. Our baby tomato seedlings are ready to be drenched in sun, to fill our balcony with that familiar scent of summer and growth. We’re ready for our socks to be rolled and put away and our toes to breath and wriggle freely for the first time in months. Our dinners to be served al fresco with icy cold Riesling, our evenings to be spent loitering long past sun down as our laughs echo and fade into the dense summer air. But still, there is cold. 


This tabbouleh helps. Granted, it’s made with frozen corn which just doesn’t compare to it’s sweet, fresh counterpart….but it’s something. Something fresh and bright and healthy. Something to help shake the cravings for slow braises and heavy pastas. It’s delicious, and the corn that pops as you bite into it releases this lovely sweetness that balances all the tangy, lemony, fresh flavours that tabbouleh is known for. The carrot greens bringing in an earthiness and a slight bitterness that played well off everything else. If you’re enduring a long winter and need some sunshine, this is for you. I guess if it’s warm where you are you can have this too… but you better will us some sunshine while you do. 


Charred Corn and Carrot Green Tabbouleh
serves 6-8 as a large side

3 cups curly parsley, minced
1 1/2 cups carrot greens, minced
1 1/2 cups corn, fresh or frozen
1/2 English cucumber, diced
1 1/2 cups diced tomatoes (whatever is most ripe)
1 bunch scallions, sliced thin
1 cup mint leaves, minced
1 1/2 cups cooked bulgur (or quinoa if you’re gluten intolerant)


(adapted from a cozy kitchen)
1/2 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoon sumac
1 lemon, juiced + zested

Put a large, heavy skillet (preferably cast iron) over med-high heat. Pour in the corn and let it sit, until charred slightly (5 minutes), stir and let char some more. It should take about 10-15 minutes total. Once it’s got some nice colour, scoop onto a dish to cool. 

Get a big bowl and add all the chopped vegetables and toss to combine. Add in the bulgur and cooled corn and toss again, making sure everything is well mixed. 

Pour all the dressing ingredients except for salt and pepper into a bowl and whisk to combine (adding the lemon + zest). Add about 1/4 tsp salt and pepper and then taste and add more until you’re happy with the taste. 

Pour half the dressing over the salad and toss to combine. Taste and if it needs more dressing, add more. It should be nice and tangy with a bit of salad to balance. Serve with fresh or toasted pita, za’atar crackers or on it’s own. 


Oh, the Dramatics [Spicy Chickpea Salad Melts]

I’ve been struggling through the last few weeks.  Struggling to find sense and purpose in some days, feeling angry that I’m not where I thought I would be at this point in my life, crushing under the [self-induced] pressure of my late 20s (which, I know, is still very young and leaves plenty of time for change). It seems everyone is on a path these days, travelling towards their light at the end of the tunnel. Some days it feels like I’m a hamster running in a wheel. Constantly spinning, exhausted, but not going anywhere.  It’s hard to remember that despite this feeling, I am on a path even if it’s not the one I intended to be on. I struggle constantly with the decision to start over. To take a giant leap into the unknown not knowing where my feet will land and what will be there to cushion my fall, if anything. Life can be so scary sometimes. But through all the nerves and anxiety, I can still hear that meager voice challenging “…but isn’t it better to be happy?” and I’m starting to feel like, yes, it probably is. To be happy and terrified, or comfortable and miserable. It’s a question that’s not so uncommon with my age group, it seems. And though the answer appears so simple, it just isn’t that easy. 

I’m trying to take each day as it comes. To enjoy and embrace all the little things, as fleeting as they can sometimes feel. I’m lucky, selfish as it sounds, to have friends who are dealing with the same fears and struggles. It’s comforting to talk to someone that understands what it’s all about, how irrational and weighing those feelings can be.  

Oh, the dramatics of it all.  I hope I’m not the only one moaning and groaning over this – surely you’ve been (or are currently) there, too. I choose to believe you have and it brings us closer together as a result. See! That’s a nice way to look at it. You’ve always been so understanding.  And to thank you for listening, I’ve prepared some Chickpea Melts. That’s right. Chickpea. Melts. A creamy, dill-pickley, slightly spicy chickpea salad schmeared over a piece of grainy bread and topped with greens, tomatoes and lots of gooey mozzarella. If that doesn’t solve all the world’s problems, or at least whatever you’re struggling with today, I don’t know what will. So go ahead, feed your problems away and smile. It could always be worse.   

Spicy Chickpea Salad Melts
inspired by Madison at Mad Faux Cheese
makes 4 open-faced sandwiches

1 1/2 cups (approx. a small can) canned chickpeas
1 celery stalk, diced
1/4 red onions, diced very fine
2 tbsp Greek yogurt OR mayonnaise
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 large dill pickle, diced
1/2 clove garlic, minced or pressed
2 tbsp fresh minced basil
juice form 1/2 lemon (or a whole lemon if you like it tangy!)
1 tbsp sriracha (+/- depending on heat tolerance) OR 1/2 tsp (+/-) cayenne pepper
6 slices crusty multigrain bread
greens of your choice (I like torn kale)
sliced tomatoes
1-2 cups shredded mozzarella (or fresh, torn mozzarella)

fresh ground pepper

Pour rinsed chickpeas into a flat, high sided dish, drizzle with a few glugs of olive oil and mash with a fork or potato masher until mixture starts to stick together. No need to be fussy, it’s even tastier when you get a whole chickpea in a bite. 

Add in the celery, red onion, mayo, Dijon, pickle, garlic, basil, lemon juice, sriracha or cayenne and a good pinch of salt. Mix and taste for seasoning. Add more lemon, salt or cayenne if needed. 

Preheat oven to 400.

Slice your bread, lay on a baking sheet and top each with 1/4 of the mixture. It may seem like a lot but trust me. Just trust me. Top the chickpea salad layer with some greens, a layer of tomatoes and mozzarella. Sprinkle with pepper and pop in the oven for 10 minutes until golden. If necessary, turn the oven on to broil to brown the cheese in the last minute or two. 


Get Your Grill On [Sponsored Post]

I recently developed some recipes for a killer campaign/eBook titled Get Your Grill On With Turkey & Mushrooms put on by Mushrooms Canada and Turkey Farmers of Canada. 

A talented round-up of Canadian bloggers have been chopping and stirring away, tasked with creating two recipes each containing both mushrooms and turkey. I was pretty thrilled to be able to work with some of my favourite people for this book and it came together so beautifully thanks to all the work of all the MC/TFC staff. The book contains beautifully shot, creative recipes like Grilled Thai Turkey Salad Rolls with Enoki Mushrooms & Peanut Sauce by Renee,  Pizza Bianca with Grilled Rosemary Rubbed Turkey Fillet, Shiitake Mushrooms and Truffle Oil by Michelle and Grilled Stuffed Mushrooms with Turkey-Sage Filling by Isabelle. They’ve got me running out and stuffing my shopping bag with mushrooms and turkey almost every week so I can taste the food in all those lovely photos. 

For my first recipe, I created a simple salad of pan-crisp wild mushrooms, spice-marinated turkey breast, sweet apples and grapes, hazelnuts and a lemony vinaigrette to bring it all home. It’s got flavour for days, it’s filling thanks to the turkey and mushrooms, and it’s easily adaptable to whatever produce you have on hand. I was so thrilled with how it turned out, I’ve made it almost every month since I developed the recipe. 

If you’re interested in this recipe and all the others, you can find it on the Mushrooms Canada Facebook page. Just click download and you’ll be ready to go! And don’t forget to visit the Turkey Farmers of Canada Facebook page for the second part of the e-cookbook (you’ll find my recipe for Grilled Turkey and Cremini Sandwich with Fig Jam & Feta in that one). 

Enjoy and Grill On, friends! 

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored post put on by Mushrooms Canada and Turkey Farmers of Canada. I was compensated via a cash payment, gift, or something else of value to write it. Regardless, I only recommend restaurants or products I use/enjoy personally and believe will be good for my readers. 


Finding My Past in Food [Healthier Egg Salad with Tarragon and Pickled Celery]


My past with food isn’t as glamorous as I sometimes wish it was. I didn’t learn to mix, knead and roll pasta with my grandmother on Sundays and I wasn’t teetering on my tip toes, nose barely reaching the counter, while my Dad taught me how to break down a chicken, sear it to a golden brown and simmer it in tomatoes and capers, olives and hot peppers. It wasn’t my reality. There are times I feel nostalgic for the stories of those whose family and food lives were wrapped around each other like a sturdy vine, but I forget that I, too, have a past in food, glamorous or not. 

The older I get the more I remember the things I did learn about food from my family. They may not be the stories I longed for or the romantic ones some of my friends and peers can tell, but they were the ones that shaped me. My Dad passed along his fearlessness towards all food. Mold? Just cut it off and carry on. Leftovers there for a while? Details, details - just eat it. Expiry dates? A mere suggestion. He joked endlessly about liver and onions, terrifying my sister and I at the thought of having to join him at the table. He ate any cut, any way. If there was something on a menu that he hadn’t heard of before, there was an 80% chance it would arrive in front of him minutes later. At the time I may not have appreciated his ways with food, but theses days I embrace them. He made me a fearless eater, never one to turn anything down, never afraid to try anything at least once. Especially creamy, mayonnaise-filled items like chicken salad, egg salad, any kind of canned meat… I was my fathers daughter and it made me proud to say that I liked what he liked. 

Years later, when it was just my mom and I living in her place, I learned how to cook the first meals I made for my friends and first real boyfriend. Meaty spaghetti sauces studded with big hunks of tomato (something that made my sister squirm in disgust), tomato soup jazzed up with a hit of Worcestershire sauce, tabasco and melted cheese slice that I still crave today when I’m under the weather, dreamy whipped mashed potatoes that I can still claim as the best I’ve ever had and still make today, much to Al and my friend’s delight. She taught me that cooking for people made them feel special and showed them how much you cared for them. It was a high I still haven’t come down from despite not getting into cooking until I was about 24. Sunday dinners at her place brought us all together so we could slow down, laugh hysterically and tell our stories from the week. I still relish her cooking and it always makes me feel important and loved when she cooks for us. 


My best friend, Amanda, is Lebanese. She comes from the kind of food background that I’ve always longed for. Her mother cooks everything from scratch. When I used to go there, back when I was only just learning to love cooking, I remember seeing hot peppers from her garden drying on the window sill. Amanda explained that she would grind them and use that as seasoning in her dishes. That nearly blew my mind. Do people do that? Don’t spices come from a clear jar with a sage-green lid in the spice aisle? She would feed us labneh, a soft cheese made with strained yogurt (also homemade) and I would sit, bewildered at her dedication to feeding her family ingredients that she pulled from the garden or created from a few humble items in her fridge. Her cooking is a nudge to her past, rich with tradition and memories of Lebanon. I remember Amanda always felt a bit weird about her entirely ethnic lunches (at least to suburban kids who ate french fries or peanut butter sandwiches for lunch), and I would be lying if I said we weren’t all a bit put off by them in the high school cafeteria, but those are the meals I now hope I can feed my kids someday. Meals rich in culture and tradition, meals that have a past and a story to them. Meals and ingredients that made with my two hands. Ones that I might even be able to say Mary Melhem, your Aunt Amanda’s mom, taught me about when I was just a bratty 10th grader. 

All of these stories shaped the way I cook, the way I eat and my relationship with food. Though I longed for more then, I realize now that I couldn’t want for any more. Fearlessness and an open mind, the knowledge that cooking equates to loving and that making a meal for someone is the best way to show them you care, and a dedication to create meals from scratch for my family and share the tradition and stories behind them. 

Egg salad always reminds me of my Dad. He liked his creamy and mayonnaise-filled (expired or not) and studded with green olives. I haven’t eaten egg salad in a long time but when I do, I prefer mine a touch healthier and with plenty of flavour from tarragon, pickled celery and hot sauce. I still thought of him as I spread it thick on bread and took a monstrous bite as the salad pushed out the sides like toothpaste. 


Healthier Egg Salad with Pickled Celery and Tarragon
makes 4 sandwiches

Though this recipe is mostly mine, I did use Smitten Kitchen's idea of picking the celery. This adds such a welcome kick of sour bite to the salad without having to bite down on a pickle. Unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case - add a few pickles diced really tiny. 

Hard boiled egg method courtesy of 101Cookbooks. Follow it to the tee and you’ll have perfect eggs every time. 

1/4 cup (2 stalks) celery, diced
1/2 cup pickle brine (from dill pickles, sweet gherkins, pickled jalapenos)
6 hard boiled eggs, method follows
2 tbsp plain Greek yogurt
1 tbsp fresh tarragon, minced
1 tbsp Tabasco sauce (or favourite hot sauce)
1 tsp dijon
1 tbsp caper berries (2 tbsp if you really like them)
1/2 tsp salt
plenty of fresh ground pepper to taste
sliced whole wheat bread
romaine, kale or greens of your choice

Place the diced celery in a pickle brine of your choice. I used jalapeno because I wanted that spicy kick. Let it sit in the brine for at least 45 minutes up to overnight. 

Have a bowl of ice water ready. Place your eggs in a pot and cover by 1-2” with cold water. Bring to a gentle boil, turn off the heat, cover and let them sit for exactly 7 minutes. Plunge into the ice water and let cool for at least 3 minutes to stop the cooking process. 

Peel the eggs, place in a big bowl with the celery, greek yogurt, tarragon, Tabasco, dijon, capers lots of pepper and salt. Mash everything together, paying most attention to the eggs, until you’re left with a well combined, coarse textured salad. Taste and adjust to your liking. Spread a nice, thick layer onto bread and top with greens of your choice. Place the second slice of bread on top and take a big, messy bite. 


Was your childhood ripe with tradition and history in food or did you have a past similar to mine? 


Heart & Home [Coconut Flank & Broccoli Salad with Peanuts and Basil]


I’m sorry… did I go to Mexico or was that just a sublime delusion? 

I blinked and it was over. Days on days of burying my nose in My Berlin Kitchen, romancing over a life that wasn’t nearly mine, sipping piquante bloody mary’s or mojitos while observing a motley crew of intensely-hued tropical fish swim circles around my ever-browning toes, kissing dolphins on the nose (which made me squeal in an octave I’m not sure has been identified by humans yet), standing still while spider monkeys crawled around my head, tangling sesame seed shells into my salt-crusted hair, sipping mimosas while kayaking around a lagoon and yelping that the electric-coloured crabs would jump 6 feet to our boat (unlikely…I realize) and finishing each evening recounting our day over red wine and Jacuzzi baths (guys. seriously. the Cadillac of Jacuzzi tubs sat a mere two feet from our bed). It was a trip not filled with much culture or adventure, but one rich in relaxation, time together reconnecting, and plenty…PLENTY…of sub-par dining options. As most resorts tend to excel in. 



On our last day, I started thinking of what I would cook when I came home. I needed something rich in colour, vegetables and zingy, bright flavour (everything we ate was rich and salty….but not balanced with any sort of citrus or acid). I spent much time during our week away immersed in the Donna Hay Magazine spring issue. Every recipe had my mouth literally puckering and drooling like a toddler, and I anxiously dog-earred pages, knowing full well that the second I got home, I would drop my bags and sprint as fast as I could to the nearest store for produce and ingredients to make these dishes my reality. I returned home the day before my birthday and while most wishes I received directed me to have someone else cook for me on my day, the only thing I was wishing for was to have my feet planted firmly in front of my cutting board; chopping, whisking, marinating, searing… the words I’d missed so genuinely that had been replaced with “room service” and “buffet” and “Me gustaría pedir…”. I love my kitchen. It is heart and home as much as my bed, my Allan, my animals. 


This dish is vastly different than the one in the magazine in preparation. The ingredients are identical, but because I bought flank instead of rump, I decided to marinate it in the coconut mixture that was only used to soak peanuts and cook broccoli in the original. It produced a savoury, rich marinate AND sauce for the dish that I can’t wait to experiment with again. I hope you enjoy making it as much as eating it, and relish in the act of chopping and searing, as I did. 

Coconut Flank & Broccoli Salad with Peanuts and Basil
adapted from Donna Hay Magazine

1 cup coconut milk
1 tbsp brown sugar
2 tsp fish sauce
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp lime juice
2 tbsp peanut or vegetable oil
2lb flank steak, trimmed of excess fat
1/2 cup peanuts, roasted & unsalted
4 cups thinly sliced broccoli florets (or broccolini)
1/3 cup basil leaves

In a large sealable container (or zip bag), add the coconut milk, brown sugar, fish sauce, soy, lime and oil. Stir to combine and tuck the flank steak into the mixture. Seal, chill and marinate 3 hours, up to overnight. 

Place a large cast iron skillet or grill-pan over high heat with a bit of neutral oil (veg or peanut) in it. Remove the flank from the marinate, shaking to remove excess marinade, and place on the pan for 4-5 minutes on each side for medium-rare. I don’t recommend cooking past med-rare as flank tends to get tough if over cooked. Remove and wrap in tin foil to rest.

Pour leftover marinade and peanuts into a sauce pan and bring to a boil. Turn down to a simmer and add the broccoli and toss around a bit. Cover and cook just until bright green but still crunchy in the center, 2 minutes. Remove and set aside. Let coconut marinade continue to simmer until reduced and deep brown. It should coat the back of a spoon. 

Slice flank into very thin slices, cutting against the grain, and at a slight diagonal so that the slices are wide. Toss the meat with the broccoli and thickened coconut and peanut mixture, taste for seasoning and add salt if needed. Spoon onto a platter or serving dishes and top with basil leaves and extra lime wedges. I serve with lots of spicy Sriracha as it tends to go well with these flavours. 

To stretch the dish out and provide something a bit more filling, serve with  rice or rice noodles. 



Me and My Salad [Cauliflower Salad with Almonds, Apricots & Fried Capers]

As I shoved the last bite of this salad into my mouth the other day, I knew I would have to share it with you all. I’ll make this short, sweet, salty and sour. 

It’s become clear that I not only have an issue with baked eggs, but cauliflower too. I can’t get enough lately. I want it all, and I want it now. This salad sort of threw itself together as I stood in the kitchen, watching it all unfold before my eyes. It was as if my brain couldn’t keep up with my hands, grabbing, tossing, mixing, and then there we were. Me and my salad. Sitting down to a lovely lunch together. 

This bad boy has it all. A gentle nuttiness from the caramelized bits of cauliflower, a pungent brininess from the fried capers, gentle heat from the almonds and a slight sweetness from the dried apricots. All this pulled together with a creamy orange-scented yogurt dressing. It might sound a bit much, but believe me when I tell you these flavours were meant to be married into one big delicious family. And then eaten by you! 

Cauliflower Salad with Almonds, Apricots & Fried Capers
serves 2 

1 large (2 small) head of cauliflower, cut into bite-sized florets
olive oil
1/3 cup raw almonds
pinch or two cayenne pepper, optional
1/4 cup capers, stems removed if necessary
small handful of dried apricot slices, diced
1/2 cup orange-yogurt dressing (recipe follows)
fresh ground pepper, to garnish

Preheat oven to 350. 
Toss cauliflower florets with 2 pinches of salt and enough olive oil and to lightly coat. Pour onto a baking sheet and bake for 10-15 minutes or until florets begin to brown around the edges. Turn florets over and bake for another 6-7 minutes until golden. 

While cauliflower cooks, put a small saucepan over medium heat and drizzle very lightly with olive oil. Add the almonds and a pinch or two of cayenne pepper, more if you like it spicier. I didn’t add salt to mine, but you can if you’d like. Let sit for 3 minutes until lightly toasted on one side. Shake the pan and let toast for another 1-2 minutes until fragrant. Remove to a paper towel lined plate to cool. 

In the same pan, add 1/3 cup olive oil and bring to med-high heat. Add the capers and let them fry until they’ve opened slightly and start to crisp up, 40-60 seconds for small capers, 1-2 minutes for large ones like I used. Remove with a slotted spoon to a paper towel lined plate to cool.

Toss the cauliflower, almonds, capers and apricots into a large mixing bowl and toss with 1/4 cup dressing. If it’s too dry, add a little more until it’s coated to your liking. Serve warm with lots of pepper and dressing on the side for those who want more. 

Orange-Yogurt Dressing
makes 1 cup

If you don’t use all the dressing, it makes a great marinade for chicken!

1 cup plain Greek yogurt
zest from 1/2 large orange
juice from 1/2 large orange
pinch salt
1/2 tbsp honey
2 tbsp olive oil

Mix all but the water in a small bowl. If the texture is thin enough already (it should be similar in texture to a slightly thicker buttermilk), don’t add water. If it needs to be thinned slightly, add water 1/2 tbsp at a time until texture is to your liking. Taste for seasoning and add more salt, honey or orange juice if needed.  


When Good Things Come Together [Roasted Savoy Cabbage with Apples, Pine Nuts and Cranberries]


Don’t you love when a meal just falls together like a stack of dominoes toppling over? All you have to do is open the fridge and magically everything you need is there, waiting for you to poke and prod it into a meal. That’s how this happened. 

I bought two heads of savoy cabbage thinking I’d use at least one for Thanksgiving, but it turns out it was one of the 3 ingredients in my kitchen I didn’t put into our big feast. There it sat, scared and alone, worried it’s fate might be sealed…in the garbage can. I had other plans, of course, it just took me a few days to find the time (and the fridge space!!) to get there. 


I  heaved the giant cabbage out of the crisper, cut it into wedges and went on a hunt for something to top it with. The windowsill was still concealed by all the bits and pieces that went into our holiday stuffings, so I decided to grab a few of those and make a quick topping of gala apples, pine nuts and dried cranberries. The perfect marriage of colour, texture and flavour. Especially when strewn about a plate of rich caramelized, and slightly crispy roasted cabbage and a deep roasted garlic vinaigrette.  It turned out to be intensely satisfying, leaving me dragging my finger across the plate in hopes of tasting it for just a little bit longer. The flavours are bang-on, the ease makes it’s suitable for weeknight side dishes (friends, Amica and Scott served it alongside some lamb chops and said it was the perfect match) or even a light lunch. 


Roasted Savoy Cabbage with Apples, Pine Nuts and Cranberries 
serves 4

Feel free to substitute pecans or walnuts for the pine nuts, dried cherries or golden raisins for the cranberries. You must, however, add the apples!

1 head savoy cabbage, cut into 1.5”-2” wedges
olive oil
sea salt and fresh ground pepper
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup dried cranberries
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp olive oil
1/2 cup gala or honey crisp apples, diced small
roasted garlic vinaigrette, recipe follows
1 tbsp parsley, minced, to garnish

Preheat oven to 350.
Place cabbage wedges on a large baking sheet in a single layer. Drizzle with olive oil and give a generous sprinkle of salt and pepper. Roast until fork tender and edges are golden and crisp, about 20-30 minutes.

While cabbage roasts, place the pine nuts, cranberries and apples in a small bowl and toss with lemon juice and olive oil.  

Place 2 wedges of cabbage on a plate and top with a spoonful or two of the topping. Drizzle with vinaigrette, sprinkle with parsley and serve immediately. 


Roasted Garlic Vinaigrette
adapted from Fat Girl Trapped in a Skinny Body

1 head of garlic
1 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp cup apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp maple syrup

Preheat oven to 375. Cut the top off the head of garlic, exposing some of the cloves. Drizzle with 1 tbsp olive oil and a pinch of salt. Wrap tightly in tin foil and place in the oven for 30-40 minutes, until cloves are soft and golden brown. Let cool completely before squeezing out the roasted cloves into the bowl of your food processor/bullet/chopper. Add the remaining ingredients and blend until smooth. Taste for seasoning and add more salt or lemon if needed. 



Farmers Feast #3 [Warm Caramelized Corn, Shiro Plum & Patty Pan Salad]

Another month, another Farmers Feast. 

This time, it was all about the corn. The beautiful, golden yellow and satisfyingly sweet corn. With the recent drought still causing uncertainty and stress for our farmers, I worried that I might not get the opportunity to go about my usual late-summer addiction to the succulent golden beauties. 

Imagine my sheer elation when I spied 4 perfect cobs of corn tucked away inside my surprise basket from the Ottawa Farmers Market. I showed up earlier than usual this time, and found Tara zipping around thoughtfully filling my take-away basket full of shiro plums, peppy yellow patty pan squashes, cobs of corn, fragrant tomatoes, pungent purslane & red Russian garlic, Red Deer pepperettes and spiky artichokes. This was going to be a fun one. 

I ultimately decided on a warm, caramelized corn salad packed with all things sweet, savoury, creamy and crunchy. I wanted to do something that was simple and speedy to make in the extreme heat we’ve been having lately. It was nearly impossible to add everything from the basket into the salad, but I tried to use as much as was possible without overdoing it. Rest assured, everything else found a happy home in my tummy. 

The vendors who graciously provided this month’s Farmers Feast:
Warner Farms – plums
Kiwan Farms - purslane
Acorn Creek Garden Farm – artichoke
Needham’s Garden Market– sweet corn
Trillium Meadows Red Deer & Wild Boar Farm – pepperettes
Hoople Creek Farm– red Russian garlic
Jaquemet Garden – tomatoes
Bergeron Gardens - Paddy pans

Oh, and while we’re yakking about the market, I want to make sure you all know about Savour Ottawa’s Harvest Table event. This year it’s being held on August 19th at the Ottawa Farmers Market (Brewer Park) and it’s going to be a delicious day. Tickets are $60 ($75 for cream of the crop tickets, which include a tour of the market and some tasty sampling) and include a 5 course menu prepared by some of Ottawa’s most celebrated chefs and local beer and wine. The market will be in full swing as usual, bringing diners and shoppers together for one giant celebration of local food and drink. For more details on restaurants and beer/wine companies involved, have a look at the link above. I really hope I’ll see you there, it’s going to be a fantastic day! 

 Warm Caramelized Corn, Shiro Plum & Patty Pan Salad
serves 4 as a side, 2 as a main course

If you’re unable to find patty pan squashes, zucchini will do in a pinch. The same goes for plums - use red plums or even peaches in place of shiro plums if you’re unable to find them. 

3-4 cobs of corn, kernels sliced off the cob (about 1 1/2-2 cups)
2 tbsp olive oil (or 1 tbsp oil + 1 tbsp butter for extra indulgence)
4-5 patty pan squashes, cut into bite-sized piece
4 shiro plums, pitted and sliced in quarters
3 large tomatoes, cut into 1/2” rounds
1/4 large red onion, minced
2 tbsp fresh cilantro, minced
1 tbsp fresh lime juice + slices for serving
1 tbsp good quality olive oil
Good, aged Lankaaster or Parmesan cheese, crumbled
sea salt and pepper

Heat a large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add olive oil (and butter, if using) into the pan until melted. Add the corn to the pan and spread evenly. Let it sit to brown for 2 minutes. Stir, spread evenly and repeat for another 2 minutes. Add the squash and cook with the corn, stirring occasionally until it’s tender but still has a nice bite to it, about 6-7 minutes. Stir in the red onion, cilantro, lime juice and olive oil. Toss to coat. Taste for seasoning, add salt if needed. 

Place 2-3 tomatoes slices on your plate (or in a serving dish). Spoon corn salad over the tomatoes and top with crumbled cheese, a few grinds of pepper and another squeeze of lime. 


Disclaimer: Farmers Feast is a partnership with the Ottawa Farmers Market. I am not compensated beyond the ingredients given from the market. Opinions expressed are mine and mine alone. 


It Could Be Worse… [Nicoise Salad with Lemon-Parsley Vinaigrette]

It could be worse. 

I keep trying to tell myself that of our “feels like” 42C weather. And while I know, deep down in the pit of my stomach where all the truths to my denials live, that it indeed could be so much worse, my outer shell, the one that feels like it’s been dripping with sweat and unable to sleep in our brain-roasting apartment for 2 weeks, doesn’t quite agree. 

To make matters only slightly worse, I’ve been partaking in my usual summer eating habits and trying to avoid the kitchen/stove like the plague. This usually involves a lot of restaurants, take-out, quick pastas and the likes. All very delicious, but all very heavy when it’s too hot to get much exercise. I’ve been feeling heavy, bloated and nasty from it all. 

And so, rather than sitting for one stinking, sweaty moment longer, I made my way to the kitchen. And surprisingly, something truly delicious came out of my determination to shake dust (aka. sweat) from my bones. 

Nicoise Salad is simple, packed with vibrant, hunger-inducing colours and filled with delicious things that will keep your body full and happy for hours. I ate it around 5pm and was happily full into the night. For those that know me, that’s a feat that few meals can accomplish. I am a snacker by nature and can seldom make it through an evening without grabbing (at least) a late-night yogurt or smoothie. I didn’t even think, not even once, about food after this salad. So make it, and eat it, in good health and sweaty pants. 

Nicoise Salad
serves 4

It’s traditional to use canned fish in this salad, but if you’re opposed to it, feel free to add a seared piece of your favourite fish. In the same note, it is tradtional to serve a red-wine vinaigrette but I swamped it for a lemony-parsley version purely for my own likes. 

Boiled potatoes aren’t exactly traditional, but I love the way they round out the salad and provide some extra sustenance. And delicious carbs. I like those. 

2 big handfuls green beans, trimmed
1/2 cup shelled fava beans, optional 
1 1/2 cups cherry or grape tomatoes
2 cups boiled baby potatoes (red or yellow)
1/2 cup Nicoise-style olives
2-3 tbsp caper berries
small handful cornichons, optional
hard boiled eggs
2 cans white (albacore), water packed tuna, flaked
Romaine or Boston Lettuce

Lemon-Parsley Vinaigrette
1 lemon, juiced
1 clove garlic, pressed
1/2 tsp honey
salt & pepper
6 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp parsley, minced  

Place a handful of ice cubes in a big bowl and fill with cold water.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  Add the trimmed green beans to the boiling water and cook for 1 minute until bright green. Strain and place in the ice bath you prepared earlier. 

Get a few bowls or plates together and on each, place a handful of lettuce in the center. Place the rest of the ingredients around the outsides of the plate and place the flaked tuna right in the center.  

In a medium bowl, whisk the lemon, garlic, honey, pinch salt and pepper together. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Finish with the parsley and combine everything until smooth. 

Spoon as much of the vinaigrette over the plates as you like. And then nom-nom-nom it all up! 



A Salad to Salivate [Grilled Kale Salad with Peaches and Ricotta]

I wandered into the grocery store yesterday afternoon to pick up a few things for lunch; cheese, bread, tomatoes, greens. As usual, I left with about 10 extra items that I simply couldn’t leave behind (and that tugged mercilessly on my back muscles as I lugged them home, completely unprepared). One such item, a giant basket of glorious Ontario peaches. How could I leave them behind? Peach season is only just starting and it always seems it’s over before it’s even begun. The humble peach is one piece of produce that I can never get enough of, constantly wishing I’d sunk my teeth into just one more dribbley, juice-filled, fuzzy peach. 

Sometimes it’s nice to let summer speak for itself, and this salad is one dish that does just that. The flavours of smokey, slightly bitter curly kale smoothed by creamy homemade ricotta and fragrant, juicy peaches drizzled with a sweet and tangy honey-balsamic vinaigrette. Can you feel the sides of your mouth starting to twitch and salivate? It’s totally deserving of that sort of reaction. Instead of eating the beautiful bowl I photographed, I stood hunched over the counter making tiny kale-leaf tacos stuffed with ricotta and peaches. If you want to do that, I’ll allow it, but it’s slightly more civilized, only slightly, to serve it in a dish. With utensils, even. But who am I to judge? 

Grilled Kale Salad with Peaches and Ricotta
adapted from Bon Appetit 
serves 4-6 

Bon Appetit used plums in their salad, but I had peaches on hand so I went that route. You can use whatever local stone-fruit is available. 

4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, divided
3 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp honey
sea salt
fresh ground pepper
10-12 large curly kale leaves
4 medium peaches, halved, pitted and sliced
1 cup homemade ricotta (or high-quality store bought)

Whisk 3 tbsp olive oil, balsamic and honey together and season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss with the peaches and set aside. 

Heat your grill or grill pan to high. Use remaining tbsp of olive oil to brush the kale leaves. When grill is hot, place the leaves on, turning once, until crispy and charred around the edged (about 2 minutes). Transfer to a cutting board to cool. When cool enough to handle, slice the large center stems away from the tender leaves and discard (or save for stock). 

On a serving dish, place a few tbsp of ricotta, 2 kale leaves, and a spoonful or two of peaches. Drizzle any remaining vinaigrette from the peach bowl on top of the salads. Season with a bit of salt and fresh ground pepper to serve.