fotografia. foodie.

the birth of a new website.

2011-01-08T22:30:00.000-08:00

I've moved! Do you love it when websites say that? I don't. I like my habitual blog reading, and it is quite bothersome to have them moved on me. However, my poor blogger website just cannot sustain me anymore, so I have moved on to Wordpress. Please come visit me at www.samanthalowe.com/blog.

blueberry lemon poppy seed coffee cake: blue berries for breakfast and blue skies for lunch.

2011-01-08T16:12:00.001-08:00

I had an urge to create muffins last week. Small parcels of breakfast that could easily be carried up a mountain. Unfortunately, muffin tins are scarce in Whistler evidently, so I made do with what I could find in the cupboard. Blueberry lemon poppy seed muffins became blueberry lemon poppy seed coffee cake. A mouthful either way. Slices from the cake became our transportable

blueberry buttermilk pancakes: supping for snowmobiling.

2011-01-07T01:13:00.000-08:00

Buttermilk blueberry pancakes. The epitome of a comforting breakfast for cold weather. We ate blueberry buttermilk pancakes for the comfort, and meat and eggs for the protein. We used that protein and comfort on the mountain as we went up and sledded through white, crisp powder. We had two friends with us. They had plenty of fun on the top of the mountain. I don't even think they really needed

prosciutto and herb rump roast: to gather all the wanderers around.

2011-01-06T02:21:00.000-08:00

Beef roast. I don't think there is anything that could tie both Aussies and Canadians together more, except for perhaps lamb. Though the climate is evidently cold in Whistler, Australians come in droves. As I walk through the village I feel as if I am in an icy version of my dad's town of Bundaberg, Queensland. Going through the checkout at the supermarket is like walking through another

moroccan chickpea soup: spicy preparation for the holidays

2011-01-04T21:29:00.000-08:00

For a while here, I'm going to be backtracking my posts. I took a month hiatus from blogging, but that does not mean I did not cook! Baking or basting or braising for me is like crack to an addict -- I just cannot get enough.Have steam and smells fill my apartment while I create presents for others is a balm to my soul. The soup simmers. I create. Christmas carols sound. The world is perfect.

california roll sushi: a westcoast holiday welcome back.

2011-01-02T17:16:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. I've been off the grid for the past month, cooking yet not blogging. However, there was so much to do! I had to make a cookbook for Christmas presents (the one for everyone will be available soon!).I sold an art piece and had to ship it. And we had to go to Ziptrek before the Christmas holiday. T'was delightful.Then, exhausted from all our adventuring, we came back and made

white chocolate cranberry almond biscotti: another year, another round of joyous giving.

2010-12-16T13:04:00.000-08:00

If you haven't been able to tell already, I love Christmas. I love the smells associated with it (mellow nutmeg, sweet cinnamon, spicy cloves), the music (Carol of the Bells - reminds me of singing in the Christmas choral show of my youth), the joy (when someone's eyes light up and crinkle into unending smiles when they recieve a thoughtful gift, or see a long lost friend or family member -

apple streusel coffee cake: the perfect treat after a snowy day.

2010-12-15T00:18:00.000-08:00

The heady smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, roasted nuts and sweet apples floating through steamy air: there is nothing better than apple coffee cake on a cold winter morn. The scent seems to instinctually remind almost all who catch a waft of home and comfort. A simple recipe, it is easy to whip up in the a.m. and impress those around until the p.m. (when the likelihood increases that it has been

korean ddukguk (rice cake soup): an adventurous christmas night.

2010-12-10T14:20:00.000-08:00

I love visiting small grocery stores run by those whose culture is different from my own. Yesterday, I found myself meandering around a Korean store, 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' over the variety of ingredients so different from the ones I usually cook with (I also gave a small squeal of delight when I purchased a rib-steak, one quite large and fresh, for only two dollars!). I love kim-chi. Many

chili con carne: spicy reconnections.

2010-12-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

It was a spicy night on Tuesday. Between training someone to take over my hectic job and getting Christmas presents ready during my lunch hours, I was running as if I had flames egging me on. After such a day, I needed spiciness to keep me going, as I had guests coming over. Chili seemed the answer to my peppiness problems. I love cilantro. I am sure there are many of you 'booing' me out there.

carnitas tacos: and a very mexican christmas to you too.

2010-12-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

Caroling. The word conjurers up innocent children, pure faces pointed to the sky, eyes shut, their mouths in a perfect circular 'O'.Our version of that was slightly different. Boisterous and loud, we traversed West 4th Street for two hours, bringing off-key joy to the neighborhood. Delight and stares of amusement filled the air as we traipsed through Capers and Safeway, stalled outside of several

chicken phyllo cups with spicy roasted tomato sauce: be merry and eat savory morsels.

2010-11-27T20:33:00.000-08:00

I love playing around with recipes. These cups were originally supposed to be wraps, however I thought they would look better in circular form, able to hold sauce rather than drizzling it over the side. The snowflakes hanging in my window inspired others to make their own. Kat's was gorgeous. Brendan's was done, well, blindfolded. There were several steps in the process of making these.

chicken breast simmered in red wine and tomatoes: roommate bonding fills the air.

2010-11-24T15:39:00.000-08:00

Last night was a mellow evening, filled with smells of simmering concoctions and laughter due to an old Steve Martin movie - The Jerk. Nights where both Jacqui and I are home are a precious treat, and one that should not be easily discarded. If my lovely roomie is home, I try my hardest to be around. I used the leftovers in our freezer to whip up a hearty and rich meal. T'was delightful. And

curry cook-off: thai curry for the community.

2010-11-23T20:26:00.000-08:00

Sundays really are a blessed day. I was able to wake up, go for coffee with my friend and their mom, hear a great message at church (and consequently get a worship song stuck in my head for the rest of the day), play random games while eating Christmas oranges, and finally have a curry cook off with Adrian. I literally could not be more blessed. One of the loveliest parts of my day was

ethiopian wat: cold snowflakes combined with hot african food.

2010-11-21T22:41:00.000-08:00

It has been too long since I had a culinary gathering. So, we rallied the Powell River troops on Friday to come over and transport their mouths to Ethiopia. I was planning on making injira (the traditional Ethiopian sourdough flatbread) to go with the wat, as it is usually served in that manner. However, I would have had to provide several more hours of crafts in order to have contented

san francisco clam chowder: tasty memories of a lovely road trip.

2010-11-16T22:06:00.000-08:00

Have you ever wanted to travel, to get away, to just keep driving? Have you ever talked about such things, such feelings, such ideas, and never acted on them? I know I have. Until this past weekend. 17 hours of driving. 3400 kilometers. Several mishaps. Growing girth the further South we went. This past weekend, I drove to San Francisco. The photos speak for themselves. I read the New York

butternut squash pork roast with thyme: the relaxing-zomibe end to an upbeat weekend.

2010-11-13T22:21:00.000-08:00

It was a long day of driving back from Whistler last Sunday. But I knew I was coming home to zombies and friends. So, on the way home, I checked out the meat specials. A bone-in haunch of pork was the meat of choice, as it was cheap and easy. However, while we struggled with the size of the cut of meat, the others watched the zombie tales rapturously. I planned on a stew with butternut squash

roasted pork butt with apple stuffing and gravy: one hundred posts and a whistling whistler weekend.

2010-11-11T12:09:00.000-08:00

This is the one hundred, the hallmark, the goal of blog posts. One hundred recipes, one hundred ways of delighting your taste buds and convincing friends to come to your table. It was my friend's birthday, and so we all drove the long, yet stunningly beautiful, drive up to Whistler. It created a longing for home in me, the place where there was no ugly glow from street lamps, you weren't afraid

feta crusted chicken breast with greek orzo salad: a fuse-d culinary art piece

2010-11-09T14:18:00.000-08:00

There is something about olives, and any dish that incorporates them. Using the overbearingly salty, briny and yet slightly sweet and savory fruit produces fantastic effects in meals if properly mixed with more subtle flavors. I decided that olives were in order on Friday. A pseudo-Greek salad to be exact. But we also needed protien for the night to come, one that had us running throughout an

roasted asparagus and beet salad with smoked salmon and goat cheese coulis: skipping through the day.

2010-11-04T13:57:00.000-07:00

It is November. Yes, the cold month. The month where the ski hills open and Christmas decorations show up abnormally early in stores. Yet yesterday due to, of all things, weather, I felt the urge to make a warm salad. There is something about the air in Autumn. It is crisp, clear, and seems to enhance colours in a way that warm hazy summer never can.It is well-timed air, for when will you see

fettuccine alfredo: so thick you could coat a ghost with it.

2010-11-02T14:13:00.000-07:00

The real Halloween, since it fell on a Sunday, was anticlimactic. Saturday was my 'Sunday'. So the real day of All Hallows Eve became a mellow one with adorable children running around in the cutest outfits. Stel and I meandered (we didn't have to hurry or huddle because it was sunny!) down to church on Granville Island. It was a lovely, warm morning, filled with kids in frilly silly clothes

thai spiced pumpkin soup: a ghoulish brew for halloween madness.

2010-11-01T22:48:00.000-07:00

Oh spooks. Oh ghosts. Oh creepiness. How I am scared of thee. Roasted pumpkin represents Fall, and is the epitome of all things warming, comforting, and celebratory of the season. But yet I revel in thee every year. Stelna and I made our Halloween costumes on Saturday -- I sewed her tutu whileshe created our feather clumps for our outfits. We were the epitome of good and evil, dark and light,

creamy pumpkin soup: a jack-o-lantern in a bowl.

2010-10-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

Pumpkins are one of the cheapest vegetables yet they can be blended to make one of the heartiest soups. One that reminds you of ghosts and cornucopias in the same mouthful. A pot of pumpkin percolating (try saying that fast ten times) is a delight which creates savory steam that fills my apartment. I love soups - not only for the warm creaminess that saturates every crevice of your mouth and

thai lemongrass basil stir-fry: i love sundays.

2010-10-27T21:33:00.000-07:00

It was a productive day on Sunday. I worshiped God, met up with a lovely friend for coffee (well, tea for me), and then walked a few blocks over to my favorite Thai grocery store on Broadway right near Kingsway. I also realized that I was considering taking an apartment right beside the store -- that would have been dangerous. I brought my treasures back home and decided to do something

tomato baked baby-backed ribs: one for every friend.

2010-10-25T23:00:00.000-07:00

Ribs. Not only for anchorman. My Saturday morning began with revisiting my childhood, facilitated by the physical visitation of Powell River friends. And just like a child, as we drove down to Bellingham to go to my favorite grocery store (Trader Joe's!), I let my mind wander. We traveled past mountains and wooded hills. My imagination flew in a way it hadn't in years -- through trees, fields,

thai green curry: a mellow end to a spicy day.

2010-10-24T09:13:00.000-07:00

Its always been my belief that the base of a good curry dish should not come already made in a jar. This is especially true for green curry, where it is the freshness of ingredients that determines the deliciousness of the sauce. Green curry is known as the hot cousin of the standard yellow or spicy red bases of other delightful dishes, though most assume -- because of its colour -- that it is

spicy roasted pepper hummus: a ghoulish dip.

2010-10-22T10:39:00.000-07:00

I love hummus. Not the hummus you get here, but the kind served in Jordan and Israel. I remember going to a restaraunt with our friend Elias in the old city of Jerusalem, tucked away in a back alley, that was devoted completely and utterly to the hotly-contested Middle Eastern condiment. To add a bit of flavor and pizazz to my dip this time, I decided to add sweet red peppers and spicy birds eyes

caprese salad: the return of the elusive roommate.

2010-10-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

So, shock of all shocks, a true caprese salad doesn't have balsamic vinegar drizzled on it. But when has staying true to a recipe ever stopped me from cooking? Besides, what is a true caprese salad nowadays? The ones that are commonly known are covered in balsamic, so when does popular opinion officially change the makeup of a recipe? I could begin to get philosophical here, but I'll refrain.

tinga de pollo tacos: mexican spicy stewed chicken for a hip to the hop monday.

2010-10-20T10:56:00.000-07:00

Tinga de pollo is a popular Central Mexican dish. With intense flavor yet a soft texture, this spicy stewed chicken dish stands out from other traditional dishes because of the ease with which it can be prepared. Small changes can be made to the stew as well, allowing the cook to personalize the flavor every time it is made. After simmering the initial base of the stew for a while, the smells

tom kha gai: thai coconut soup served, sipped, slurped on a sunday.

2010-10-19T10:42:00.000-07:00

There is something magical about Sundays. The tradition of attending church and enjoying a lunch after brings a kind of calm throughout the day. It is paced, mandated by a strict service time, yet almost leisurely - the last day of the week is one full of comfortable contradictions. Stelna, the loveliest of the lovelies, stayed the night and we took our time waking up before heading to church.

vegetarian lasagna: sustainable sustenance.

2010-10-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

Ooey gooey lasagna. Melting goodness that combines comfort with flavor. I woke up my body up in the morning by rolling out of bed and awakened my mind and senses by letting my legs fly across the Granville street bridge. I haven't run in years. But oh, that first leap, that first step, that first deep breath, oh, is magical. The world quiets as the wind rushes past my cold ears, my legs

deer chops with savory apple compote: i'm so sorry bambi.

2010-10-14T15:24:00.000-07:00

It was blustery yesterday, with a pervading smell of autumn. You know the scent, one of damp leaves mixed with a sharpness in the air that contrasts from the mellowness of summer; the one that makes you think of jumping in piles of leaves (or raking them), tingling cheeks from cold air mixed with sunshine, and the beginning of hot chocolate and marshmallow season. The wind made miniature

red current and almond thyme bread dressing/stuffing: the day of the year to let sorrows drain away and joy take its place.

2010-10-13T23:42:00.000-07:00

Stuffing. Or rather, dressing. To me, it is the essence of Thanksgiving. Given birth out of the cavity of a chicken (too graphic?). It is the dish that is most remarked on by friends and family, whether in bread or rice form, requested and served by many. But what is the proper terminology for this savory side? Stuffing was its original name, but then it didn't appeal to the 'proper' upper

thyme pork tenderloin with caramelized peaches: lick a pot and give thanks.

2010-10-09T22:41:00.000-07:00

I had a potluck yesterday. Celebrating Thanksgiving and the return of a friend to loving arms. We did honour to friendship and love with food. And herbs. With a little pumpkin thrown in. Pot lucks apparently originated in 16th century England, referring to the food leftover for unexpected guests. In the 1800s it came to mean a communal meal, probably coming from the 'potlatch'

spicy shrimp scampi: clearing of the throat, with a bit of alliteration.

2010-10-07T11:10:00.000-07:00

We went to kareoke last night. And all aspired to be as 'hip-hoppity' as this master of the beat. He was amazing. The look on Stelna's face was replicated around the table. Impressive. I was scheduled for a chamber choir audition last night. However, being sick for two weeks isn't exactly beneficial to your upper range, so I canceled it. But what better place to practice for the grand audition

vegetarian mexican taco soup: ole!

2010-10-06T20:04:00.000-07:00

Ole! I love a good Mexican dish, especially when I get to share it with a friend. John recently came back from Hawaii, and brought me a lovely little instrument - a ukulele. Marvelous. So, to celebrate, we ate Mexican (incongruous I know). Vegetarian Mexican Taco Soup 3 cups vegetable stock 3 cloves garlic, chopped 1 large onion, chopped 1/2 jalepeno pepper, seeded and minced 2 tsp. oregano 1

a mark of life, a pleasure to witness.

2010-10-05T23:09:00.000-07:00

Rani was married Sunday. A gorgeous bride, wrapped in a stunning red sari, ushered in to meet her soon-to-be-husband by a bag-piper. The bride lived with my mom and I for a couple of years - she was an integral part of my childhood, and I always thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met. I was honoured to be at her wedding, experiencing her joy. Her nephews performed a

roasted chicken with cranberry sage stuffing: giving thanks, early.

2010-10-04T11:59:00.000-07:00

If you think about it, its rare that Thanksgiving-themed meals are asthetically pleasing. They consist of huge globs of comfort food, or sauces drizzled liberally over the plate. However, just looking at this makes my mouth water, because the very disorderly heaps represent family, love, warmth, and lovely smells that bring all together. I was supposed to have a large potluck, a pre-game party

white pepper split-pea soup: not only for throwing.

2010-09-30T19:04:00.000-07:00

I love split-pea soup. There, I've said it. I know that, by making this statement, I've automatically been relegated to the ranks of food-throwing babies or toothless elderly. But wait, the soup that I love isn't the gelatinous mass which looks like it could become the new Blob and is served to make people even sicker in the hospital, but rather is a lightly spiced, rich soup which exudes comfort

garlic mustard crusted red snapper: when you're sick, why not?

2010-09-29T11:31:00.000-07:00

There's something about putting a succulent forkful of fish on your tongue and lightly pressing it to the roof of your mouth, feel it part into flaky little bits. I find its the one 'meat' that I can really handle when my throat hurts. Snapper has a light taste which lends itself to a strongly flavored crust. Simple, quick and delicious, breaded snapper was just the meal to make last night (and

honey-glazed pork tenderloin: layers of flavor and layers of fabric.

2010-09-27T10:08:00.000-07:00

It is rare that I make a meal solely for myself. But there is something calming about slowly mixing ingredients together, taking time to smell and taste, knowing that the only stomach I need to appease is my own. Pork is a traditionally an autumnal meat and although it is not kosher for one culture, it is one of the most popular meats in the world. A pork loin is one of the leanest cuts of meat

vietnamese stir-fry: a send off for a friend.

2010-09-26T23:12:00.000-07:00

A friend is leaving. Robbie is jetting off, across the world, to obtain a rich accent and perhaps a Welsh pony. We had to send him off in style -- with loving friends around, some wine, and good food. The night began with an epic board game and progressed to food. Then some more board games. Then some deep and delicious cake. Then the St. Regis pub. What could be a better progression? Every

tom ka gai: thai chicken soup for the soul, and the sick.

2010-09-24T00:02:00.000-07:00

There is nothing I abhor more than being sick. The runny nose, unceasing cough, lymph nodes the size of golf balls, and listlessness that usually results in me entering in random contests online because my mind cannot handle anything more strenuous. Heck, for my brain activity to cease it can either vaguely concentrate on winning free appliances (which I would never use) from Canadian House and

leek turkey soup: liquid on a day filled with falling water.

2010-09-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

The only way to describe this past Sunday is wet. When it wasn't pouring, it was drizzling, and when it wasn't drizzling, it was spitting. I was once again computer-less, book-less, and wandering aimlessly through the sodden streets. The solution? As always, make soup. This time, however, I had a leek just reclining in my crisper, waiting to be used (peeling back a layer to show me the lovely

eat! fraser valley: oh i was in my glory.

2010-09-21T14:47:00.000-07:00

After a glorious day picking up cheap wine and food at Trader Joe's in Bellingham, Josh and I headed back across the border to experience copious amounts of food. Eat! Fraser Valley was in Abbotsford and overloaded my senses. A large culinary trade show put on by the Food Network, I was flying as high as a kite on the smells of mini burgers, crepes, balsamic vinegar, and a myriad of other smells

coconut carrot soup: warm soup with a warm fire.

2010-09-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

I love soup. I have said so before, and will say again. A creamy soup, where it has been blended so finely that it just rolls through your mouth, allowing the tastes and spices to touch every part of your tongue and slide down your throat. Bread just soaks it up, saturating itself with steaming goodness. A 9000 year old culinary tradition, soup embodies home, no matter where you are. Brendan had

basteeya: moroccan chicken pie to make a games night.

2010-09-15T12:54:00.000-07:00

Basteeya. The word just sounds exotic. And delicious. Introduced by the Andalusians in the 15th century, I can only think that this pie has been improved upon over the centuries. Its savory taste warring with the sweetness of the crust is . . . indescribable. I set Josh to the task of butchering a whole chicken (it was cheaper than buying breasts). Unfortunately, many expletives were heard

breaded chicken fingers with honey mustard sauce: gourmet mystery sticks.

2010-09-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

I realize that I've never really made a stereotypical North American meal for this blog. It's always Vietnamese, Italian, Jordanian, etc. Anything but 'Western' food. Normally, the idea of food that is popular in Canada or the US, such as sloppy joes and curly fries, makes me shudder. However, there is something appealing about chicken fingers. They remind me of childhood in a collective way -

creamy tomato soup: shield against the rain.

2010-09-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

As I've said before, and will say again, rain inspires soup. Whether its drizzling, pouring or spitting, the continuous falling water that characterizes Vancouver makes you want to curl up somewhere warm, with a quilt and a bowl of soup. I always loved the rain. Especially driving. There is something about jumping into a car, rubbing your hands to revive the feeling, and then being contained in

dal shorva: the indian version of soup for the soul.

2010-09-09T11:10:00.000-07:00

Any soup cooking on the stove emits a smell of home. There is something about the moisture that fills the air from evaporating stock, making the smell of soup different from all other scents from stove top meals. The soup scented air in my apartments wraps around me like a blanket, making me warm when I'm cold, or comforting me when I'm sad. If there is one food that cures all, it is soup. And

(pseudo) malaysian pork stir-fry: a meal to be lulled to sleep with.

2010-09-07T10:52:00.000-07:00

I think I spent most of my weekend, the last long weekend of Summer, in Langley. Odd. I went out on Friday night to the soccer game, Saturday night to celebrate a friend's new house, and went to mass at Trinity Sunday morning (T'was lovely! With so many people, and the music, it was just what I needed). I just can't seem to draw myself away completely from the tangled web that is my old alma

vietnamese rice paper wraps: the best theme for a potluck.

2010-09-03T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've decided that themed pot-lucks (called 'pot-licks' by me when I was younger - it made more sense, for you were to lick the pot at the end because it was so tasty!) are the only way to go. With Vietnamese smells mingling with strains of the accordion, it could not have been a better night. Rice paper, both edible and not, has been used for centuries in East and South-East Asia. The kind you

basil lime turkey quesadillas: heart-stopping, childish laughter, kooza soul-lifting beauty.

2010-09-02T11:26:00.000-07:00

I cannot describe how excited I was yesterday afternoon. The butterflies were only heightened when I went on lunch break and saw red figures gracefully prancing on the side of a Granville street building - Kooza was in the air. Cirque de Soleil is in town for only a few more days. So Brendan took me to see it (I obtained a few photos of the inside before the show started, but then was [kindly]

citrus red curry basa fillet: smells to greet a wanderer.

2010-09-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

I wanted a simple dinner. Poached fish, in my head, equates to this. I thought one friend was going to come to dinner, and another showed up in his place. Kevin had to stay home, it had been a long day, and Allison came to my door. Spectacular! As long as I am feeding someone, I am happy (and when they are lovely friends that you've been wanting to visit with for a while, it doesn't hurt). I

ice cream (cup)cakes: birthday baking, the frozen edition.

2010-08-31T10:09:00.000-07:00

I asked Brian what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, and he answered, individual ice cream cakes. Supposedly him and his roomies have become ice cream connoisseurs, and their freezer perpetually looks like an ice cream parlor. BBQs are the way to go for parties: sitting outside, the wind ruffling your napkins, enjoying the last rays of summer, and having random seagulls come and steal

shortbread tarts with cream and fruit: baking birthdays.

2010-08-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

I don't bake a lot. That is pretty evident from my posts. But birthdays, mostly because of alliteration, call for baking. As I had one group of friends over, I baked for another. Tartlets are always a hit at a party - unfortunately mine weren't that good-looking, but sure tasted lovely (shortbread makes everything taste spectacular)! The secret to good shortbreads is to substitute about 1/4 of a

turkey breast in spicy plum compote: pillars of friendship.

2010-08-25T14:10:00.000-07:00

As I've said the past couple posts - my food is starting to reflect the change in seasons to come. Rock fruit is ripening and is enticing me to use it in every meal, till I can no longer take part in the bounty until next summer. There is nothing better than letting fruit simmer on the stove, with spices and sweetness pervading the air. Well, there is one better thing: watching Pillars of the

Chicken Borscht: food for films.

2010-08-23T19:47:00.000-07:00

Again, it was a cold day on Sunday morning. I'm starting to feel the chill of autumn, and my inclinations in cooking are reflecting it. There are two things that I adore when I'm making dishes for people: serving them foods that they have never eaten before, and somehow incorporating my favorite vegetable of all time, beets. Borscht served both those purposes on Sunday. Gord and I had actually

basil pesto chicken with penne: saturday sharing.

2010-08-22T23:01:00.000-07:00

It wasn't that pleasant a day on Saturday, weather wise. The temperature couldn't decide whether it wanted to be hot or cold, and the sun only occasionally graced us with its presence. Summer is showing us that it is soon going into hibernation and giving its warm throne up to colorful autumn. With the change in the season, comes a change in food. Josh, Stelna and I felt the chill beginning to

thai panang curry: nose-sweating roommate joy.

2010-08-19T14:54:00.000-07:00

With my mandatory lunch hour at 12:15 (my boss prefers I take early lunches, I prefer later, but, as always, the boss wins), I always try to do something productive with the hour given to me. Yesterday, I walked over to the Korean grocery store and picked up ingredients for the Thai dish I was making for dinner (yes, they may be Korean, but they stock many more South East Asian ingredients than

pan fried salmon with sweet mustard sauce: fish to remind me of a good day.

2010-08-17T14:04:00.000-07:00

My 'real' birthday was on Sunday. It was a more mellow day than the one before as we were in 'recovery mode' from our adventures. Again. Yet again. Breakfast. At Nice Cafe. We had to show Robbie and Gord - they loved it. After our hearty meals, we headed over to the Latin American Festival at Trout Lake. Filled with music and food, we couldn't help our hips from swaying, but then realized -

oven roasted pork ribs: a day of birth, with friends encompassing.

2010-08-16T20:29:00.000-07:00

I have the loveliest friends. And I had the loveliest day. My morning was filled with good food and a great friendship (again going to my favorite spot for breakfast - the Nice Cafe on Main Street). I decided to celebrate the day I was born on a Saturday because, honestly, who wants to celebrate on a Sunday (though Sunday the 15th must be a spectaular day for not only was Napoleon Bonaparte

korean beef bulgogi: a barbecue among friends.

2010-08-14T09:15:00.000-07:00

I always find Fridays are impatient days. I sit at work, almost visibly tapping my foot, my eyes quickly moving to the clock and away again: I just want the weekend to begin! To delay this its-the-end-of-the-work-week fever, I always try to do something that will distract me during lunch. So, after a quick pop-in, pop-out to my favorite place - the library - I headed over to CBC to see what

fresh watercress salad with sweet balsamic vinaigrette: only found at a vancouver market of farmers.

2010-08-12T19:37:00.000-07:00

I love a slow day. Work wasn't, but my lunch was. As I meandered through the crowded hot streets of Granville, I came upon my favorite buskers the Sons of Granville. They are often playing between West Georgia Street and Robson Street, and have complimented me before on a blue dress I wore one day (in front of people - embarrassing - but points to them for stroking my ego), yet that is not the

jordanian beef mansaf: a dish to honour guests.

2010-08-11T15:15:00.000-07:00

They say (whoever 'they' are), that there is a national dish for every country. If that is true, especially in today's globalized world, I think I would judge each country not on its people, culture, natural beauty, or historical sites, but on this one supreme dish. And, if I was to judge Jordan on this basis, it would be one of the top countries in the world. I remember eating mansaf at a small

and let the blessed bells ring out, filling our hearts with joy.

2010-08-09T12:23:00.000-07:00

I was blessed and honoured to be the 'official' photographer (and the only girl in pants) at my friends' wedding this past weekend. Josh and Anne, as a couple, have been an integral part of so many of our lives for the past seven years. I (and probably a good dozen others) have a claim on bringing them together in high school - Josh, in our art class, would talk about that beautiful and perfect

poached halibut with roasted garlic and dill sauce: a warm, flaky welcome home.

2010-08-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like coming home (and being able to bring dirty laundry to your mom!). As I flew in, I was thinking that what we make for dinner should mimic the comfort of home. Evidently mom agreed with me - for right before she picked me up, she went down to the docks and bought fresh halibut (a perk of living in a small coastal town). Mom loves dill. Always has. I didn't when I was younger.

spicy peach chutney: picnic fare

2010-08-06T11:58:00.000-07:00

If you are wanting to have a sophisticated picnic on the beach, peach chutney is the perfect accompaniment to simple yet lovely food. As we walked down the longest sets of steps ever to Wreck Beach, right near UBC, the sun (through the obnoxious amount of smoke that has settled on Vancouver due to too many wildfires) coated everything in a hazy pink glow. The perfect setting for a picnic. Wreck

best vinaigrette ever: mixed with chinese crab and politics.

2010-08-05T22:15:00.000-07:00

I know food and politics don't mix. Well, usually anything and politics don't really mix (in polite society, however with a bit of wine anything is possible, and even the most passive can become the most passionate about what they believe). However, I can't but have a (ironically we were drinking wine, but very light lovely stuff, Moscato Della Venezie sparkling white) conversation with Kevin

pork tenderloin with thyme plum coulis: meat after a day of wine, and fruit for night energy.

2010-08-04T14:52:00.000-07:00

After a day full of this on Saturday, I made this. The perfect compliment to an overload of wine (the taste of wine, not the wine itself, I liberally used the bucket provided for spitting so ingesting the wine isn't needed - gross I know, but I was driving!). Driving past all the fruit stands in the Fraser valley inspired me to create a dish using seasonal fruit - namely, the tangy sunny flesh

chinese lettuce wraps: the test of friendship.

2010-08-03T16:31:00.000-07:00

One of my only memories of a Chinese restaurant (that's right, I've been to few and far in between, and definitely none in the past 5 years - a feat I know!) involve getting messy with lettuce wraps. Hands struggling to hold the breaking lettuce together, warm salty sauce dripping down my chin, and looking over at others partaking, our eyes smiling. It was the perfect dish to celebrate a day of

the vineyards of the fraser valley: accompanied by crackers and wintersleep.

2010-08-02T18:10:00.000-07:00

My Saturday took an unexpected turn this weekend. I transited out to Langley, bags slung across my back, like a weighed down Indiana Jones (there was only standing room but of course I insisted on reading and looking ridiculous) ready for adventure. I was expecting to go on a rugged undertaking with friends, through mountains, forests, and fields to a cabin tucked into the countryside some

savory shepherd's pie with yam crust: celebrating the arrival of baby 5D.

2010-07-30T14:08:00.000-07:00

I love shepherd's pie. Even as a kid, just adored it. The tender meat with herbs, occasional veggies, and sauce saturating the fluffy potatoes piled on top. I would want the flavor all over, so I would swirl and mix it together, and although it looked ugly, it was marvelous. People prefer their shepherd's pie in different ways, with different ingredients - I think the instinct for peas in a

lime-poached fish tacos with salsa verde and pico de gallo: food for fireworks fiestas.

2010-07-29T15:08:00.000-07:00

I always look for something to inspire my culinary pursuits for any given night - whether it is a colour, event, person or even request. Last night, it was fireworks. There is a competition concerning fireworks here in our lovely city. Yesterday, it was Mexico taking center stage and, inspired by that great country's cuisine, I decided to make soft tacos. But they weren't just any tacos, they

seared sesame-crusted ahi tuna: a holy fish?

2010-07-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite appetizers, at any restaurant, is seared ahi tuna (also known as yellowfin or albacora). There is something about the smooth texture and the deep, rich colour of a tuna steak. Maybe it's just because I'm in trendy Vancouver, where the ability to eat sashimi is crucial to move in fashionable yuppie social circles, but I like raw fish. Lightly seared to make a crust with that

Stir-Fry Salad with Thai Peanut Dressing: a wake-up dish.

2010-07-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

It was a long day yesterday, mostly because my body thought it was night for most of the morning. The beginning of my weekday-wake-up-routine before I go to work is this: blearily open my eyes, roll off the edge of the bed, throw myself towards the bathroom, wash my face, and reach for my chewable vitamin C. Unfortunately, that reaching is usually done blindly as I'm drying my face. As I placed

saucy jamaican jerk pork: 'every mikkle mek a mukkle'.

2010-07-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

Kevin, Josh and I decided to meander across the water on Sunday to enjoy our sunshine with a copious amount of people: it was the Caribbean Days Festival this past weekend in Lonsdale Quay. Unfortunately, the population of our city is such that the amount of Caucasian people far outweighed any other race. It was still a great time though, with clouds of barbecue smoke wafting through the grounds,

creamy spinach and artichoke tart: too tame a dish for a stagette.

2010-07-25T16:34:00.000-07:00

It was my friend's bachelorette party on Saturday - a day that we've been looking forward to with anticipation. I contemplated the night before - what appetizer can I bring that everyone will enjoy? Spinach dip. Then I thought - what can I do to jazz it up, to make it a bit different than the 'usual'? Tart form. Spinach dip is the pervasive appetizer at any get together. However, it can range

oven cooked chicken with roasted red peppers, artichoke hearts, and kalamata olives: enough food for a decision

2010-07-24T17:44:00.000-07:00

I made a big decision today. They (whoever 'they' are) say that education determines tour life. If so, then I may have skewed my trajectory. Or aligned it with what my end goal truly is - we shall see. I decided to let SFU know that I will not be attending their Master's program for International Development in the fall, regretfully. I've decided to work for a year and take classes so I can

roasted farmer's market vegetable salad: aka - simple sexy summer salad from surrounding soils.

2010-07-23T15:34:00.000-07:00

I arrived at my auntie Jen's door yesterday to find a box of fresh goodness waiting for me. She's heading off to her other house in the land of Nova full of Scotians, so she was passing along the produce she wouldn't use before she left to her oh-so-loving-and-adoring goddaughter. My godmother is a marvelous woman. So strong, funny and wise. I don't know what I would do without her. She is a

lime maple poached salmon: a fish feast.

2010-07-22T12:25:00.000-07:00

I realized last night that I hadn't shared the coup d'etat of this past weekend's recipes - lime maple poached salmon. (P.S. This was the kitchen I cooked all this food in. Isn't it glorious? Revel in its beauty and counter space. I will dream of it at night after cooking in my small hole of a cookery area.) Salmon and maple seem to go together like bread and butter, like apples and oranges,

pan-fried tofu: lines, lines and more lines.

2010-07-21T15:22:00.000-07:00

There is something magnetic about lines. Your eye follows them, drawn to wherever they are leading. And yet they seem so unnatural. There are not many organic things that are composed in a straight line - the term 'organic' conjours up images of swirls and beauty that can not just stay in one straight direction but must wind, curve, and twist. The word 'line' corresponds in my head with 'man-made

roasted potato salad with balsalmic vinegrette dressing: greenery is for girls.

2010-07-20T15:32:00.000-07:00

It was a girl's night last evening. I had the pleasure of sitting down, in White Rock, with friends to just be, well, a girl. It was a night filled with all the giggling, the stories, and juxtaposition of serious discussions and completely frivilous ones, that is afforded (and usually assumed) to happen when our gender gathers in groups. It is nice to be near the ocean again, when there are

bruschetta: commemorative chow for a celebration

2010-07-19T15:11:00.000-07:00

It was a celebratory weekend these past couple of days. My mom turned, well, let just say 39 years of age - and dang, she looks good. We decided to let loose and venture into the mountains. Whistler is not only a great place to ski (yes, ski, not snowboard, ski!) but is lovely in the summer. The views are stunning, and make you realize that the license plate 'Beautiful British Columbia' isn't

pad thai with pork: inception of a nationalistic noodle.

2010-07-16T15:59:00.000-07:00

Pad thai was one of the first dishes that I started to make, in my third year of university (when we were all starving - literally - students) as a means of feeding a large amount of people. It's a one-pot dish, and benign enough that even those who do not like 'exotic' food, enjoy it. As people say when throwing baseballs, for pad thai - its all in the wrist. Stirring is the basis for this meal

lamb kofta on middle eastern salatat and bulghur Wheat, with toomeh (lebanese garlic sauce):

2010-07-15T11:36:00.000-07:00

I can already hear the cries of derision and distaste (not to mention the pitchforks being dusted off and torches lit) that will erupt from some of your lips with this statement: last night, I made lamb. And dang, it was tasty - this comment coming from an ex-three-year-strict-vegetarian. Maybe its the Aussie in me, but I've always loved lamb, even when I was a child and read many books about

black bean wraps: baaaatter up!

2010-07-14T15:28:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was a day for reminiscing. Slow pitch was the game of the day, with Gord playing for the honour of the UBC law students, and a small group of us cheering from the side (we were the only spectators - so he had all the cheers!). While sitting on the grass that-smells-so-much-like-summer, I remembered the slushies, Spitz, way-too-high-socks, and camaraderie that accompanied my childhood

fluffy fabulous french toast: kierkegaard's (i would like to believe) favorite comfort dish.

2010-07-13T16:13:00.000-07:00

I had a boring day - but I reveled in it. My days have been incredibly busy lately (not necessarily a bad thing), but I felt the urge for a slower day, one where I could meditate on certain thoughts or appreciate my meander home along sun-dappled pavement. My lunch hour was spent at the library. I should have been undergoing an x-ray for my foot (or going to communion, but I was allowed lunch

spanish sun-dried tomato pasta with spicy ricotta chorizo meatballs: the spanish soccer team's (probable) sustenance for their day of triumph.

2010-07-12T18:45:00.000-07:00

I've resolved to attend as many events as I can in Vancouver this summer. The city has so much to offer - a Jamaican festival, a choir walk in the middle of the woods (sounds ethereal!), and a neanderthal festival. How could I ever be bored? (especially with the last one) Although Commercial Drive is a lovely place (it even has random swings attached to old, leafy branches along its streets) I

taco salad with mango salsa: browning ground beef after browning our bodies.

2010-07-11T23:18:00.000-07:00

I love breakfast places. I have to say, the Nice Cafe might become one of my favorites. Tucked away off of Main St. on 8th Ave., it is a charming brick-walled establishment with the smells of the-best-kind-of-Saturday-mornings wafting out of its doors. I sat there with my glorious breakfast, and a good cup of coffee, while listening to Stelna expound the positive attributes of free-range eggs

orange grilled chicken on grape walnut salad with balsamic reduction: cooling protien for a full night.

2010-07-10T19:26:00.000-07:00

A wonderful night was preceded by a marvelous day. Not only was it sunny but friendship abounded throughout my day. I had lunch with Jeff, the theology student from church, at Nuba – lovely food there, however, the walk is a bit interesting past the New Amsterdam Café.