The Gouda Life

As I was flying 40,000ft in the air over the British Columbia Rocky Mountains, something struck me (aside from the usual “I’m probably about to die. I better eat another crunchy Cheeto just in case!”)… 

I really need to eat some vegetables.

Yes, these are the thoughts that scatter throughout my mind when I’m not thinking about how the airplane is inevitably going to kill me (I get terribly psychotic on airplanes - the only cure is booze and candy… but isn’t that the cure for anything anytime?) 

The past week has been a never-ending feast of all things cream-sauced, butter-filled, sugar-crusted and hollandaised… my gut is feeling a little worse-for-wear to say the least. The very least. 

I returned home Saturday evening, tired, jet lagged and hungry, to a lively bundle of freshly cut, ruby red and green Rhubarb from my great friend Ashley’s Mom, Wendy. Keeping in mind my promise to eat more veggies and fruit this week, I got busy making some White Peach & Rhubarb Galettes. 

…..what?! Pie isn’t considered healthy? But it’s got fruit in it! Well jeez, guys. I can’t be held responsible for that! 

In all seriousness, these are not exactly healthy. But what they lack in nutrition, they make up for in utterly delightful flavour. The combination of the sweet, floral white peaches, tart rhubarb and gentle rose-water flavour is perhaps one of my new favourites. Just eat them in moderation (and don’t keep sneaking past your boyfriend to pick pieces of the dough off in the fridge and chew them as fast as you can so he doesn’t know… but he always knows).



Individual White Peach & Rhubarb Galettes with Rosewater Pastry
Pate brisee adapted from Martha Stewart

Note: White peaches, which have a lighter flesh colour and are slightly more floral in flavour than typical yellow peaches, are recommended but not mandatory in this recipe. 

Pate Brisee 
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup unsalted butter chilled and cut into small pieces
1 tbsp rosewater
1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

In the bowl of a food processor (which you can chill for 30 minutes prior to dough making for optimal results), add the flour, sugar and salt and pulse for 5 seconds to blend.

Add the butter, rosewater and 2 tbsp of the ice water and pulse. Add more ice water, 1tbsp at a time while pulsing until dough holds together without being wet or sticky. When you pinch it, it should easily come together.



Pour out and shape into a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill in the fridge for at least 1 hour or overnight (can be frozen and stored for 1 month).

Galette Filling
1lb (about 4 cups) trimmed rhubarb, sliced into 1” chunks
4 very ripe white peaches, pit removed, sliced thin
2 cups granulated sugar
1 tsp rosewater
1/4 cup cornstarch
coarse sugar for finishing

Toss all ingredient in a bowl.



Once dough has been chilled, divide into 8 equal sized portions. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each piece to a 7-inch round, 1/8 inch thick. Transfer the rounds to 2 baking sheets. Add a heaping 1/4 cup of the filling into the center of the dough. Fold edges over the filling leaving an opening in the center. 

Once all the rounds are filled and folded, brush the dough with water and sprinkle with coarse (turbinado or sanding) sugar. Place the trays in the fridge while you pre-heat the oven t0 400 degrees. 



Bake for 25 minutes until crust is golden. Turn heat down to 375 and bake until fruit filling is bubbling and set.



Remove and let cool on a wire rack with parchment paper underneath (to catch all the saucy drips).

Serve on their own, with a little whipped cream or vanilla ice cream on the side.

Well things have just been all over the place here lately, haven’t they? 

I’ve spent this past week slightly under the weather and not wanting to do much but drink peppermint tea and watch The Real Housewives (of every city….). I’ve been sitting on a really delicious recipe for a few weeks now and I figure I’d better get it out to you before all your heirloom tomatoes are rotten or -gasp- frozen! Ok, maybe frozen is a little wishful thinking on my part. I’m anxiously awaiting the first snowfall. And now you know how terribly insane I am. 

It’s a chilly day here in Ottawa. One that begs more for a slow cooked beef soup or creamy risotto than a Galette. But you know what? I have a Galette for you so you’ll just have to bear with me and enjoy it. I promise it will be worth it. 



If you’re unfamiliar with the term ‘Galette’, it’s a general term in French Cuisine referring to an array of flat, round, free-form tarts. Rustic, unfancy, but so perfectly satisfying when piled with your favourite sweet or savoury fillings. There is something so unassumingly charming and welcoming about a flaky dough round, filled with fresh ingredients. That first slice into the tart, when the crust shatters like glass into little shards of buttery dough, always makes my heart flutter. 

I had some beautiful Heirloom tomatoes sitting pretty atop my window sill that begged for something different than my usual heirloom tomato salad…. delicious as it is. A Galette was an easy alternative to my go-to dishes that really pushed the unique-looking tomatoes to new heights of flavour. 



Heirloom Tomato Galette with Cornmeal Crust
adapted from Look I Made That

You could easily use any tomatoes you have on hand. Roasting them really helps bring out the most of any tomato. 

Dough
adapted from Fine Cooking
1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour 
1/3 cup fine yellow cornmeal 
1 tsp sugar 
1-1/4 tsp. salt 
6 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2” cubes
3 tbsp olive oil 
1/4 cup ice water

In a medium-sized bowl, mix the flour, cornmeal sugar and salt. Using a pastry cutter, cut in the butter until evenly distributed but still has some large, visible pieces present. 

Add the olive oil and slowly add in the ice water, mixing, until the dough starts to come together. Gather dough in your hands and shape it into a small disc. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 1 hour up to overnight. 

Filling
3-4 large (or 6-7 small) Heirloom Tomatoes, sliced into 1/2” rounds
1.5 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2 cup Gruyere cheese, grated 
handful basil, sliced into ribbons
coarse salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 375.

On a floured board, roll dough out into a round about the size of a dinner plate. See? Rustic means we’re not being fancy here. 



Leaving about 1.5” around the edge of the dough clean, slather your Dijon mustard over the dough. Top mustard with grated Gruyere. Arrange tomatoes over the cheese and sprinkle with coarse salt, pepper and basil. 





Carefully pick up the edges of the dough and fold it over the filling. If
the dough breaks, just pinch it back together and call it a day. There are fancier ways to fold the dough if you’re looking for something with a little more ‘ooooooh’ appeal, but I love the simple, messy look of this method.



Bake on a preheated pizza stone or baking sheet for 10 minutes or until browned on top. Reduce heat to 325 and continue cooking until tomatoes are gooey and baked, about 40-50 minutes. 



Serve with some lightly dressed micro greens or a simple arugula salad to give a nice spicy contrast to the rich tomatoes.

 

The term ‘just one of those weeks’ (or days, months, years…) has never rung more true or slipped more frequently from my lips than it has in the past two weeks. I’ve had to tell myself on numerous occasions that this winter is a true test of my patience, sanity and emotions. I hope I’m passing.

I think one main thing that’s keeping me down is the lack of sun these days. I don’t mind the cold. In fact, I like it. But I really do enjoy the feeling of the morning sun beaming warmly onto my face while walking to work. And more than that, it’s vital to my happiness some days. I just need it. My coworkers who have been lucky enough to witness my bleek moods lately would probably agree.

I woke up this morning frustrated with the icy, grey scene outside. I know I live in Ontario, I know this is what every single January/February looks like. No matter how many times as I tell myself that I won’t let it get to me this year, it always does. But alas, I do not control the weather. Yet. So I will just have to make do the best way I know how.

If I can’t feel the sun, you better believe I’m going to go leaps and bounds to be able to taste it. Thankfully in this case, leaps and bounds turned out to be more like tiny tip-toes. I love tip toes.

I had a few grapefruits laying around threatening to expire, so I put them to use in my quest for sunny flavour. I’m not a really big grapefruit eater, but I love grapefruit flavoured things. So when I came across a recipe for Grapefruit Curd, I knew it was just what I needed. Tangy, ever-so-sweet, and bright sunshine yellow. Made better only by the soft, buttery tart shell that housed it. 



As you know, I don’t dabble much in dough without breaking into panicked sweats, but this recipe from Martha Stewart was just about impossible to mess up. I made it according to the directions, but thought the dough felt a little too sticky. I added a little more flour, over-kneaded it, fussed about with it too frequently to yield anything but a rock-hard crust… and yet it still came out perfectly soft, crumbly and delicate. That’s why she’s Martha Stewart and I’m cleaning curd up off my floor with a fork.



I managed to finish the tart, take some photos and have a slice before the incident, which only made more clear that the universe is not done testing me. While in transit from the counter to the fridge, I watched, mouth agape and unable to do anything but gasp, as the tart buckled in the middle and feel to both sides in a heap of gooey curd on the floor. Nothing to see here. Definitely not a metaphor for my life as of late . No big deal at all, right? Nothing a glass of wine, a deep breath and a clenched fist can’t fix.

If you’re missing the sun, or even if you’d just like a little more of it, this tart will fix you right up. It’s like having a pina colada on the beach. Sort of. Just try not to break your sunshine.



Grapefruit Tart
adapted from Honey and Jam &  Martha Stewart

Tart Shell

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
1 1/4 - 2 cups cups all-purpose flour (I used about 2)
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1/2 cup whole blanched almonds + 2 tbsp
3/4 cup confectioners’ sugar
1 large egg yolk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Butter an 11-inch fluted tart or quiche pan with a removable bottom, sprinkle 2 tbsp of ground almonds into the pan and shake around to cover bottom and sides.



Lightly whisk flour and salt together. Pulse almonds with confectioners’ sugar in a food processor until finely ground.

Beat butter with a mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Beat in almond-sugar mixture. Add yolk and 1 1/4 C flour. Beat until combined. If dough is still too sticky, add more flour slowly until it’s firm but still slightly sticky.



Press dough evenly into bottom and up sides of prepared pan. Prick dough all over with a fork. Freeze for 20 minutes.



Bake crust for 10 minutes. Remove from oven. Press down bottom and up sides if needed. Bake until golden brown, about 13 minutes more. I pressed the tart shell down twice during cooking. Transfer pan to a baking sheet, and let cool for 15 minutes.

Grapefruit Curd

8 large eggs yolks
1/2 cup freshly squeezed ruby red grapefruit juice
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Zest of 1 ruby red grapefruit, finely grated
1 cup sugar
Pinch salt
1 stick unsalted butter, cold, cut into pieces

Combine yolks, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, half of the zest, and the sugar in a saucepan; whisk to combine. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring constantly and taking care to scrape the sides of the pan with a wooden spoon until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of the spoon, 8 to 10 minutes.



Remove saucepan from heat. Add salt and butter, one piece at a time, stirring until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve unto a medium bowl. Stir in the remaining zest. Pour into shell. Let sit at room temperature (or fridge) until set, about an hour. Optional: Dust with confectioners sugar.