Bison breakdown

All I wanted to do was do something with the ground bison I had bought.

I knew I could do the obvious – a rich ragu for pasta or bison burgers – but I want to stretch myself. It had been a week of eating out and on the go, so I wanted to go the distance.

Handmade ravioli, perhaps?

Not bad, but that’s the best you can do, I asked myself.

I was still at a loss just before heading out to the library, when I had a quick glance  through a newish Food & Wine magazine. It was an ode to Italy, something that I find okay to read about, but not something I cook very often.

A sausage and peppers recipe caught my eye because it used the raw sausage meat out of the casings instead of ground.

Ooh, I could replace the sausage with my beautiful red bison – Done!

I quickly wrote down the few ingredients I didn’t have on hand (White bread? Who still eats white bread) and headed out the door.

1 hour,7 bags and 22 photocopies later, I arrive home and unpack my loot quickly.

Lovely Molly at our local coffee shop, had some of my Golden Hubbard Squash Soup the other night and tonight on my way home, I saw her and shesaid how much she’d liked it. Now of course she was just being polite, but I love being able to cook for people, so I told her I was going to be making Potato Leek tonight (thanks to my friend Diana for telling me about her delectable Monet one yesterday and Ian Knauner tweeting about a leek sauce he made with anchovies, I had a wicked craving) and would she like some.

Again, the poor girl was probably just being nice, but she said yes, so I wanted to make sure she had a big piping bowl before she closed.

After the soup. (Ooh I was pleased how rich it was despite using milk instead of cream and deep it tasted – I used 3 types of pepper – the salt craze is fine and everything, but I’m having such a blast experimenting with pepper!), I turned to my Sausage and Peppers recipe.

Following the instructions, I went through the many, many steps (why didn’t it seem like this much an hour ago) and realized – didn’t have pine nuts as I’d sworn to earlier.

Now what?

Hmm.

Pecans. That seems like it would go with bison. Is that weird?

Well, it would be if I’d remembered tomato sauce.

@#*! Should I substitue tomato paste and water? Salsa? Ketchup?

Oh crap.

So then I decided that dried cherries would go nicely with the pecans and I’d go without the the tomato sauce entirely.

Which is how I came to make Thanksgiving-y Bison Peppers, inspired by the Food & Wine recipe.

Though it turned out to take me much longer than expected, I though it was a damn tasty dish.

And the bonus about bison is that you get such meat satisfaction without the heaviness that comes with beef.

Food & Wine’s Spinach & Sausage Stuffed Peppers

Ingredients

One 5-ounce bag baby spinach
2  slices of white sandwich bread, finely chopped
1/4 cup milk
1 large egg
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
2 tablespoons pine nuts
2 tablespoons chopped red onion
1 pound sweet or hot Italian sausage, casings removed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 small or 4 large Italian frying peppers—halved lengthwise and cored, stems left intact
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup canned tomato sauce
1 cup low-sodium chicken broth

Directions

In a very large skillet, cook thespinach over high heat just until wilted, about 1 minute. Drain and press out all of the water. Coarsely chop the spinach. Rinse out and dry the pan.

In a large bowl, knead the chopped bread with the milk, egg and cheese to form a paste. Knead in the pine nuts, onion, sausage and spinach and season lightly with salt and pepper. Using lightly moistened hands, divide the mixture among the pepper halves and lightly pack it in.

In the skillet, heat the olive oil until shimmering. Add the stuffed peppers, filling side down, and cook over high heat until well-browned, about 4 minutes.

Turn the peppers and cook until the skins are browned and blistered, about 4 minutes longer. Add the tomato sauce and chicken broth, cover and simmer until the sausage filling is cooked through and the peppers are tender, 5 to 6 minutes.

Transfer to plates and serve right away.

Make Ahead

The stuffed peppers in sauce can be refrigerated overnight.

Next up… rabbit!

Dinner rush

I recently decided that I want to cook for people on a regular basis.

Whether that means becoming a personal chef, working in a restaurant or cooking at home for a nearby cafe (in addition, not instead of writing), I’m not sure.

But it does make me want to practice, practice, practice.

So I was pretty sure I was going to cook up a storm last night. Sundays are such good days to do it – there’s usually a little time to squeeze in extra shopping and prep if needed.

I got the shopping part done – huge fresh Whitefish Fillet and Ground Bison – but I took the opportunity to visit with my friend Camille over stove time.

After our visit, it was already 8:30 and Scott and I were pretty hungry, so my idea of fish stew went out the window and instead I did Breaded Whitefish with Homemade Tartar Sauce, Steamed Potatoes & Rapini with Onions and Garlic (pictured above).

It was fantastic.

We had a great, albeit simple dinner, and I got to spend time with a friend.

Sometimes it’s not how much time you spend in the kitchen, but how you spend the time you have.

Easing into it

After the bake-off, I wasn’t ready to be at the stove just yet.

In fact, I still had a good 3 or 4 loads of dishes to do from the bake-off alone.

So dinners this week consisted of going out for hakka, getting a cooked chicken from the gourmet grocery and splitting a pork and beef sandwich with my fella.

Not very exciting, I know, but necessary.

By yesterday, I wanted to be cooking again, but by the time I finished my errands and did a full, big grocery shop (on a Saturday, no less!) and put everything away, I couldn’t muster up the energy to do anything too fancy or involved, so I made Golden Hubbard Squash & Sage Soup (pictured above) and Penne with Shrimp, Sundried Tomatoes & Fresh Basil (below).

I have put my ad hoc recipe  that I created as I went along below.  I was originally going to make Squash & Sage Pasta, but realized with just a few more ingredients, I could get 2 courses out of it.

How did you get to your decision for what to make tonight? I’d love to know!

Penne with Shrimp, Sundried Tomatoes & Fresh Basil

Ingredients:

1 package of penne (or fusilli)

1 package of raw shrimp 31-40 count

8 mushrooms, sliced

1 large tomato, diced

3 green onions, sliced

4 frisee leaves, chopped

3 garlic cloves, sliced

1/4 cup sundried tomatoes

1/2 fresh jalepeno pepper, seeded and chopped

12 fresh basil leaves, chopped

1/4 cup olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste.

Directions:

Prepare pasta as directed on package. Drain and set aside.

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil and add mushrooms, sundried tomatoes and garlic. Saute for 2-3 minutes.

Add frisee, onions, fresh tomato and basil and cook for another 3 minutes.

Add to pasta.

In the same hot pan, add 2 more tablespoons of olive oil and add raw shrimp.

Cook for about 3-4 minutes, until they’ve gone from gray to pink.

Add shrimp and oil to pasta and other ingredients, toss and serve.

Top with Parmesan, salt and pepper, if you like.

Sometimes, simple is best.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part VIII

I came in 2^nd place, after Kristina (above). Joel & Andrea (below) tied for 3^rd place.

It shouldn’t have mattered so much. It was just a little fun contest.

But it does.

I hope that’s okay.

Thanks so much to Ivy Knight (above left) for allowing me the opportunity to grow and realize that yes, I can do anything if I put my mind (and tears) into it.

To Bourke Street Bakery & Harper Collins for the clear instructions that allowed me to actually make a decent dessert.

To my amazing fellow food bloggers – Andrea, Kristina, Joel and David for being so gracious and showing me how it’s done. To Scott for his unconditional love and willingness to eat whatever I make. To Ben & Darren for the supplies. To my folks and friends for their immense support. And to Paul C. Böehmer, Milana Saragossi and Michel Childe at Böhmer for their advice and rooting for me.

I can’t believe I’m about to say this.

I can bake.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part VII

Look, I knew there wasn’t a chance I could win. I just didn’t want to embarrass myself or the lovely Ivy (below) who had so graciously invited me.

The contestants arrived.

Andrea Toole arrived first. Then Joel Solish and Kristina Groeger. David Ort was supposed to compete, but his cookbook never arrived, so he came out to support us anyway.

Ivy told us to take our stuff back to the kitchen to warm it up to set out for the guests and judges.

I love being in restaurant kitchens, so I felt calm being in there.

Until I saw what everyone made.

Andrea (in plaid hat) made Gingerbread Biscuits (page 333-335) with a soft chewy centre and crisp exterior. Incredible tasting. How did she do that?  Joel (in plaid jacket -was I suppposed to wear plaid?) made Chocolate Sour Cheery Biscuits (page 312) and added bacon fat!

You can change the recipe? Oh no, I followed mine to a T. I would have infused my strawberries with tequila. I would have added cocoa. Everyone knows the chocolate thing is going to win. And mixed with bacon? Sheer freakin’ genius. He’s definitely going to win.

Then Kristina came in (below, on left with camera).  She made Pork, Apple and Braised Red Cabbage Pie (p. 212). 50 of ‘em. Holy bleeeeeeeeep.

Oh Stephanie, do you know Kristina? She’s a chef at Enoteca Sociale.

Oh. My. God.

Had I know all of this, I wouldn’t have entered. I mean, the sheer talent in the room was astounding.  And then there were the judges – Amy Rosen, colum­nist for the National Post and edi­tor at House & Home Magazine, along with the own­ers of Madeleines, Cherry Pie & Ice Cream and Sweet Escapes.

We trotted our stuff out to the front of the room, where the guests came by and took samples and asked us questions (people are soo nice). Then the judging started.

I was relieved by this point because:

1. I had made it this far without fainting.

2. No one threw up having one of my cakes.

3. The pressure was off. The three competitors were going to win and now I could just sit back and relax.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part VI

At 3:45 p.m., I jumped in the shower.

Not only did I reek of butter and icing sugar, the whole house smelled of it, mixed with the astringent aroma of red wine vinegar (we’d had to put out bowls of the stuff to try to catch the infestation of fruit flies that had now pitched tents in all  rooms of the house and demanded to leave the Spike Channel on all day). Needless to say, between that and my nerves, I was feeling pretty queasy.

I hadn’t even thought about how I was going to get it all down to The Drake. At this point, I was just glad to have just made the deadline. I packaged up the little bastards and made my way down.

In rush hour traffic.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part V

My loyal friends and neighbours Ben & Darren had lent me their sifter and 2 mini muffin pans, holding 12 each.

What I didn’t think about, having never baked for this many people before, is that I would have to let the pans cool for a while and then wash them before being able to pop another batch in the oven.

What I thought would take a couple of hours, took many.

I left half of the cakes stuck in the muffin pan while I raced off to an all-day meeting. I would have to do a bunch when I got back.

I baked up until about 3:30 on Monday. Despite greasing the cups with an embarrassing amount of butter, the cakes were still adhering themselves to the pan like Jessica Simpson to football players.

Oh, and in the meantime, I found out that it was now not only 5 competitors, but 4. So, no pressure or anything. Oh, and professional judges too.

Why couldn’t this be about Beef Wellington? Or meatloaf? Or seafood bisque? Things I can actually do.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part IV

The test batch was haaaard. And I made them in a regular size muffin pan, thinking that I use mini ones to take to the bake-off.

Slightly burnt on the outside and half of the bottoms still stuck in the pan, my courageous and always supportive fella Scott ate up a bunch, as did a neighbour who was so stoned, he put a whole one in his mouth while saying goodbye, leaving a dusting of almond crumbs on our doorstep.

I tried not to think about the next 60 and went on to make the best Beef Sirloin Roast I’ve ever made (I’d only made about 5 roasts up until this point) with mashed potatoes, squash and fennel salad for us and our guest, Kevin.

I set the alarm for 6 a.m. and went to sleep, dreaming of: showing up without the cakes, showing up naked, showing up naked without the cakes, and well, you get the idea.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part III

Fruit flies.

Everywhere.

They’d come home with the strawberries, apparently.

So out I went for more strawberries.

While out for my walk, I remembered I’d invited a friend of ours over for drinks in the evening. I’d be done in lots of time, right?

Oh yeah, it’ll be fine.

A baking story told in 8 parts. Part II

Since I had to make 1 test batch and then 50-60 individual portions for judging, I had to not only double to recipe but times it by 5 since it was written for only 12 cakes.  My shopping list was insane – 5 lbs of butter, 40-something eggs, 4 pints of strawberries. The most I’ve cooked for here at home is 20. I did cater for 500 once, but that’s why I left the business.

I went out with my trusty cart and loaded up. I brought everything home and would do the test batch first thing in the morning. I needed to get my courage up.

I can do this.