Our Domicile

I treated myself to a copy of Molly's new book A Homemade Life recently and devoured it with simple joy and delight within days of it arriving. It is, I have to say, the cookbook/food book I've often dreamed of writing (or one of them anyway). For me recipes are stories. And, I hope I don't come off as crazy by saying that there are many recipes that I cook while repeating a story in my head, almost as though I'm trying to ensure I don't forget its origin, retelling a tale in my head in the oral tradition. My handwritten recipe journal of scraps of paper printed out from the web, handwritten notes, recipes copies from and by friends and newspaper clippings often has notes along these lines as well. Everything from a recipe for black bean soup that came to me via a beloved friend I've now lost touch with (she got it from another friend of hers, who she knew in grad school and the recipe has side notes tracing its origin), to "Mom's souffle" recipe, to the recipe for carrot/cauliflower veloute that my parents had on their kind-of-a-honeymoon in Switzerland. The recipes I've created or acquired as an adult all have similar stories attached to them. Stories that for the most part I keep in my own head, repeating subconsciously each time I cook them to myself.

But this isn't about my neurosis, it's about Molly's lovely book, worthy of much praise. Her stories and life journey, held together with recipes and food meditations  offers the reader a little mental journey into someone's life. A life filled with the ups and downs of life, family, joy and tragedy, adventures in Paris, romance and the quotidienne of everyday life. Somewhat ridiculously, I can't speak to any of the recipes as I lent the book out to friend shortly after finishing it, but I regularly use many of Molly's recipes from Orangette (they feature heavily in my scraps of printed out and annotated recipes) and have always enjoyed reading her stories as I add her recipes to my own repetoire. (If you have never made any of Molly's recipes I suggest you start with her Chocolate Apricot Cookie recipe. I can almost guarantee it will win you over and you'll be back for more.)

I already posted about this over at the book site, but I can't resist spreading the goodness:

BabyCakes, the Book of Recipes: It’s Here! from BabyCakes NYC on Vimeo.

How great was that? BabyCakes Book of Recipes comes out in May (but you can pre-order now and don’t forget to pick up another copy of The Boss of You while you’re there). Honestly, as fellow author, getting that first box of books before they hit shelves feels exactly like that (or it did for me).

I’m not sure how it is that it has taken me so long to finally pick up a copy of Clotilde’s cookbook Chocolate and Zucchini, but now that I have it is providing much in the way of inspiration for our summer cuisine. I think that part of my hesitation when it first came out was the inclusion of meat dishes — I very rarely buy non-veggie cookbooks — but while meat certainly is well represented, there is also an abundance of veggie recipes in here (and a really delightful dessert section). Overall, it is a cookbook that focuses on using a few carefully chosen, fresh ingredients and Clotilde’s love for food and the joy of cooking comes through in her notes and instructions in such a way that it makes cooking along feel like the best kind of simple indulgence. I’ll admit that I first picked it up at the library, as I wasn’t sure there would be enough in it for the non-meat eater to make a purchase worthwhile, I have however since bought 3 copies (two as gifts). So what tipped me over?

• While I’ve spent years here and there eating a vegan diet, overall I’m a bit of a sucker for cheeses and egg dishes. Being raised by one vegetarian parent, and in a household influenced strongly by European cooking, I’m a big fan of quiches, savoury tarts and souffles. Clotilde has some great recipes along this line, including the Tomato Tart Tatin, which makes for a wonderful summer patio dinner with a big green salad (especially now that the local tomatoes are making an appearance). 
• Most of the recipes are simple – few ingredients – and actually achievable in short bursts of kitchen activity, making them great for weeknights or busy weekends (of which most of mine seem to be).
• As already mentioned, the dessert section is drool worthy. This should of course come as no surprise coming from a French gal. I’m currently cooking up (no pun intended) an occasion to make the chocolate raspberry cake.
• Wine pairings. I hadn’t expected this at all. And while here in Canada we can’t access many of the labels named in the book, the general ideas/varietals are most welcome as I find I can easily get stuck in a wine rut now that I’m not working in restaurants and being regularly exposed to new bottles.

Most of all what I really love about the book is Clotilde’s attitude toward food and the stories she includes. “Write a cookbook” is fairly high on my list of life dreams, and I know that my own cookbook would include the same style of storytelling alongside the recipes. I love hearing what inspired someone to try a flavour combination, what a particular ingredient makes them think of and how a dish plays into their lives. Of course, it is this style that has made the Chocolate and Zucchini site so popular and it is very well reflected in the cookbook. The only drawback I can see to this cookbook is that it makes me wish that I could transport my kitchen to Paris, but alas a little taste of Paris at our Domicile will have to suffice for now.

Since we got back from New York things have remained busy with the book, which is fabulous, though finding time for life and work is proving increasingly challenging.

We had an interview with a local TV station earlier this week (and another one planned for next week) on Studio 4 with Fanny Kieffer. I have to say, with a past as a media activist and an academic history with media studies it's a bit strange to be a part of the machine. That said, Fanny was a truly awesome interviewer. Either she truly does take the time to really get to know each of her subjects or she's got a killer assistant. Either way, her questions were by far the most thoughtful we've had to date. If you want to watch a clip on YouTube you can do so here. (Sidenote: Boy howdy do I ever sound like a west coaster…).

Lauren has also compiled a list of reviews of the book from bloggers and folks who have emailed us. While formal press is nothing to sneeze at, it's so great to receive personal reviews from people who have sought out and read the book (versus people whose job it is to review books). The reviews have been compiled on our site, if you're interested.

Two upcoming books I’ve got my eye on (other than the one I’m on pins and needles about of course):

• Lotta Prints: How to Print with Anything, from Potatoes to Linoleum. Of course I’d like this to come with enough time for me to play around with printing everything from papers to textiles to patterns on my walls. Nevertheless, looks like fun times.
• Sew U Home Stretch: The Built by Wendy Guide to Sewing Knit Fabrics Anyone know if the patterns in this one will require a serger? While I’d like to have one, it’s not the likely future purchases.

If you’re interested in getting a sneak peek at my book (hitting shelves in May 08), then have a wander over to the website for a sample (the intro and first chapter most specifically). And do check out the website for The Boss of You (which has moved to www.laurenandemira.com, though bosslady.ca still works), if you’re on the lookout for business advice. Thanks to the motivation of my kick-ass co-author/business partner Lauren, we’ve started blogging there in earnest. Oh, and you can also join us on Facebook, if you really want to go for it.

I’m going to have to ask you to forgive me some book news here. Technically all of this info should live over at the book website, but I have a feeling I won’t be able to contain it all over there. We got our first review today from Publisher’s Weekly and it’s positive! Big huge sigh of relief. While I’m trying to brace myself for the inevitable negative review, I have to say it’s nice to start on a positive note. You can read the full review here, but this is my favourite part:

The authors cover the fundamentals of crafting a mission
statement, developing branding, handling finances and legal issues,
hiring good employees and expanding your business with admirable
clarity, bolstered by success stories, helpful exercises and sample
budgets.

I know it’s dorky, but given how much work went into editing that sucker, I’m kind of thrilled by the "admirable clarity" part. It makes all those rewrites feel a little more worth it. Oh and if you’re keeping track, we’ve updated the name of the book’s blog from Boss Lady to LaurenandEmira.com. Since the book didn’t end up being called Boss Lady we didn’t want to confuse things. Besides, this way it’s about building the Lauren and Emira empire, which was always the plan anyway.

This morning I started as a usual Sunday morning for me lately. My eyes popped awake around 7am, and try as I might I was unable to get back to sleep, despite having stayed up a bit too late playing boardgames with our family and some friends who came over. It was what happened next that broke the usual Sunday morning mold. As soon as I determined I wasn’t going to go back to sleep, I eagerly picked up my copy of Felicia‘s new book, The Sky Isn’t Visible from Here, and immersed myself back in  her story. I told myself I’d read just one more chapter of this book which I’ve been devouring all week, before getting up and starting on the day’s to-do list. By about 8am Martin woke up. He asked if I’d like a coffee — which I declined — and headed into the kitchen. I vaguely heard him make coffee and then head downstairs, where by the sound of things he was working on reassembling my bike, the redecoration of which has been his most recent project. I kept reading.

Eventually Pluto came to bed and nuzzled into my armpit, me somewhat awkwardly holding the hardcover out in front of both of us. I kept reading.

By roughly 10 I had only a few pages left, which I had begun to read more slowly than the preceding few hundred I’d raced through this week, savouring them and willing the book not to end. By half past 10 I was done. Martin had been up before me for hours on a Sunday — something that never happens — and I could hear Pia stirring in her room. I closed the book, and no word of a lie, thought about starting it over again.

This, The Sky Isn’t Visible from Here, is a stunning piece of writing. A tale so beautifully written and such a pleasure to read that I plan to go buy a second copy to loan out to as many people as I can think of (I must keep my autographed copy for myself I fear), though I will of course also encourage them to buy their own. To say it is a brave tale feels condescending, as it is the very real tale of Felicia’s life (or a part of it anyway), but I do think there is some truth is naming it as brave. Not so much in the telling of her story, but in the time and care with which she chose to craft it. She is a woman who has a remarkable way with words, an ability to paint pictures that place you not just in the room with the story but in the heart of her experiences. And truly, the only fault I can find with it is how much it left me wanting more. More of any story she chose to tell, for it is in the telling that her talent shines through.

When I travel, I typically spend a fair amount of my time focused on food. From the oh-so-rich avocado sandwiches in Mal Pais, Costa Rica (you have never seen so many fresh avocados — and yes I mean more than one — stuffed between two halves of a bun), to simple pizza bianca from Forno in the Campo de’Fiori in Rome that continues to haunt my tastebuds, I love finding local foods when I travel. My very favourite culinary travel notes have to do with bread. Typically breads that are a specialty in the region and which elude my Vancouver based kitchen. I adore bread — which I’ve mentioned before — and I would by lying if I told you haven’t thought about planning vacations around opportunities to return to some of the better loaves/slices I’ve enjoyed abroad. At the top of my list are: the pizza from Forno in Rome (and experience not to be missed), Danish rye bread (available from any bakery in the country it seems) bursting with whole rye berries and a sour taste that pairs so very well with fresh european butter and raspberry jam, and a baguette sold by one particular alimentaire in the very small and old town of Radda in Chianti. This baguette from Radda is in fact the strongest motivation behind my desire to bake bread. It was a dark, rich multigrain. As dark as a rye bread, but with an almost burnt caramel flavour as well as a very deep nuttiness. It came in small baguettes, and often sold out before my partner and I had a chance to get to that particular alimentaire, but it was prized by us both when we managed to get a loaf. It was perfect as it was, but was particularly lovely with a bit of hard cheese, like a Padano. Oh how I think about that bread.

So yes. My breadmaking, aside from the pleasure it brings me with each loaf I create, is about one day — and I expect this day to be in the far off future — being able to replicate that one loaf from Radda. I may need to go back between now and then for another sample as reference, however. I’ve been progressing in my bread experimentation. I tried the French Bread recipe from the January issue of Living, which made two very successful yeasted white French rounds. A learned a fair bit about dough textures through that recipe. The dough started out really wet on the first knead and I thought it would never hold together, but through patient kneading the texture changed entirely and the final product was quite lovely actually. It is a recipe I’ll make again, though it didn’t really have the depth of flavour I’m looking for. I picked up a copy of Local Breads, by Daniel Leader, a couple of weeks ago, and Martin has been teasing me for reading about bread before I go to sleep ever since. This is a man whose passion for bread I can deeply appreciate. Part recipe book, part how-to guide for making artisan breads, and part travelogue it is a book for bread lovers and bakers. So far I made Rosemary Ficelle, two long loaves of Italian bread (with a yeast starter) studded with fresh rosemary and coarse sea salt. The recipe was extremely easy to follow and his step by step instructions (with variations catered exclusively to KitchenAid users) include FAQs and notes on what to do if things aren’t going according to plan.

It is a beautifully written and designed book, focusing on artisan breads from France, Italy, Poland, German and the Czech Republic. I was originally looking for Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads, as recommended by Heidi, but was smitten with Local Breads for two recipes: one for a German whole rye bread that uses a rye starter to ensure that the bread is gluten free and has that distinct sour rye taste that I fell for in Denmark; the second is the recipe for Forno’s rustic pizza from the Campo in Rome (both bianca and rosso), which he learned from the master baker there himself and claims to have adapted to work in the average home oven (which can of course never replicate the huge brick wood burning ovens of Forno). Given the reverence and delight with which he speaks about each baker he shared recipes and techniques with, I’m inclined to believe that under his written tutildge one can learn a lot about breads.

My next hurdle is to successfully start and nurture a sour starter. I may start with the rye starter, but as always I need a bit more time and energy to devote to things like monitoring a jar of flour and water. One of the things I find so useful about the book is the photos and illustrations of successful doughs and problem doughs, in addition to well thought out FAQs. When I do give my first sour starter a whirl, I think I’ll photograph it for the small segment of folks out there also interested in giving this a whirl, so you can see what a successful (or failed) starter looks like from day 1 to 6 or 7 when it should reveal itself as a winner (or not).

A few years ago, I found myself not reading as much as I wanted to. I think this had much to do with moving into our new home and all the time, energy and drywall dust that created, but still I wasn’t too happy about it. Then a dear friend started up a bookclub, which I gleefully joined and that got things rolling again as far as reading was concerned. Now, if I don’t have a book on my bedside table that I’m engrossed in, I feel at a loss.

While I was in Victoria recently I had a chance to visit my absolute favourite bookstore Munro’s. If you’ve never been and you’re ever in Victoria you must go. The end. It is, to me anyway, what a bookstore should be. That is: filled with books. No tchotchkes, no cds, no in store Starbucks, just mainly books on dark wooden bookshelves with gorgeous high ceilings. If I ever have the time, I’ll spend a few hours with a stack of books in a chair in Munro’s weighing my options. And, sadly, I always need to put some back. Last time I was there, I reluctantly put back Peter Reinhart’s new Whole Grain Breads cookbook, mostly because it was too heavy to bring home in my one small suitcase on the ferry, but I’ve kind of regretted it ever since.

As I mentioned a while back now, I’ve been experimenting with making bread, and I’m happy to report I’m getting somewhere. Still, bread is a bit of a mystery to me. I’m not sure where I can play with recipes and where I can improvise, and frankly it kinda scares me to contemplate. Reinhart’s book however, provides all kinds of theory, history and technique to each recipe. And photos! Photos of what it should look like, photos of what you don’t want and really photo, after glorious photo, which for the newbie bread maker like me seems like a brilliant idea. That, and as the name implies, it’s all about whole grains. I first heard about the Whole Grains Bread cookbook over at Heidi’s site, so I wasn’t surprised it was such a great resource.

Speaking of 101Cookbooks and recipes, she’s got a recipe up from the new How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, Mark Bittman book. I’m pretty curious about this cookbook too, as I’ve always felt pretty left out of the How to Cook Everything love.