Archive | July, 2011

Sherri’s Best Choco-Mint Brownies

30 Jul

Recently I have lost a dear friend of mine to a job in the UK.

I’m happy for her, yes.

I am, however, feeling very lost without her. She was my shopping/fashion guru (I have no sense of style. You would never guess my mother was a fashion designer.), my boy trouble counselor, and more importantly, my foodie buddy! We loved to eat together, cook and bake together….talk food, breathe food….

All I have now is her brownie recipe.

I have fond memories of watching her make these: measuring everything with care and insisting on the best ingredients; good butter, chocolate, eggs, etc. Watching how carefully and to the book her method was….and my favourite part was when she would bring me in a small care package with a fresh batch. All she had to do was give me a look, and I just knew that I was in for a treat. She cuts them really small, and keeps them in her freezer. Small little bites of pure unadulterated chocolate heaven. She said that just knowing that they were in her freezer at home was enough to get through the day. I too think they need to be cut small. Any bigger and the guilt would overpower the brownie. These are no foo foo brownies. These are real serious brownies. These are last meal brownies. These are the BEST brownies. They’ll probably change your life.

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Cucumber-Mint Sorbet

26 Jul

Well folks…

I’m so glad that the Fabi that went to the garden centre a couple of months ago, looked at the cucumber plants and thought: “hmmmm…I’ll pass.”

It seems that everyone this year has an abundance of cucumbers. They’re getting thrown at me left right and centre. I like cucumbers. But not THAT much. Solution? I COULD make pickles, I COULD make cold cucumber soup (my mom has a killer recipe)….but I’d rather make dessert. Story of my life. August’s farmer Marc even asked me to make a dessert out of them; it was meant to be.

Cucumber-Mint Sorbet. Refreshing, super easy and super tasty. It was definitely the right choice. At least it felt like the right choice, as I had a couple of scoops last night for dinner in hopes that my sweat mustache would go away. What? Yeah, I went there. Sexy.

I have no air conditioning and I bake in a kitchen with no hood vent. I think I have an excuse there.

I’m also trying to redeem myself for shoving minty high fat dairy products in your face yesterday. See? Ying AND the Yang. I’m good.

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Minty Ice Cream Adventures

25 Jul

Photos other than the one seen above are compliments of Cait. I’m sure you can tell by now which ones I take vs. hers….shutup.

I am not embarrassed to tell you what my favourite ice cream flavour is. It’s called Superkid. It’s multicoloured. It probably has nothing but artificial colours and flavours in it but it’s probably the best thing ever. Unfortunately, this flavour is only available at Laura Secord and I rarely get the chance to indulge. So what flavour, pray tell, does Fabi go for as a second choice? Mint chocolate chip of course! I love every minute of a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream in a waffle cone.

Fun Fabi fact: I like chunks in my ice cream. Which is why not just any mint chocolate chip ice cream will do. Don’t give me those shoddy brands with stupid flakes or swirls of chocolate. I will not be pleased! I need me some big chunks of chocolate. It’s a necessity.

I recently took it upon myself to create an ice cream that would make my life complete. I made ice cream. I made it minty. I then made cookies. Double chocolate chip cookies. I mixed the two together. I then died and went to heaven.

For some reason I had never attempted ice cream until my chef kindly threw her barely used ice cream maker at me. If I had known it was so simple. I would have been making hundreds of litres of ice cream ages ago.  The recipe is simple.

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Real Life Breakfast (Buttermilk Banana Berry Pancakes)

23 Jul

 

Fact: I have a lot on my plate.

Fact: I’ve been working a lot

Fact: Baking yummy goodness is on the back burner. Heck….cleaning my apartment is on the back burner.

Fact: I also have no air conditioning in my apartment. No fun.

These aren’t excuses for no blog posts….merely facts. Straight, hard facts.

I’ve made it out into the backyard to pick some golden and red raspberries…that’s a good thing.

I’ve been checking on my carrots, they’re doing swell thanks for asking.

This morning I had 10 minutes to make and eat breakfast. All I had were two brown bananas.

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Orange-Olive Oil Cornmeal Cake

18 Jul

Ever have those days, where you wake up to find that you fell asleep with a book on your face, and said book is now bent all out of shape after you turned around and slept on it?

Where the one day when you think, screw it, I’m wearing these ugly pants to the gym, I don’t care, is the morning that you run into that cute buff dude that only shows up once in a blue moon?

Where the hot water in your shower runs out just as you are getting ready to rinse the conditioner out of your hair?

Where you go to have a bowl of cereal for breakfast and the last of your milk decided he didn’t want to live in this cruel world anymore and went sour?

Where you didn’t realize your milk committed suicide until after you take the first bite?

Where your oddball landlady left all the doors open while she sat outside with her two weirdo cats that sometimes stare at you through the window, and now your apartment is ridden with bugs? Namely, flies??? Flies that land on your face while you’re trying to eat your second attempt at breakfast?

Sometimes, a girl just needs a piece of cake.

Sometimes, a girl just needs a piece of cake that makes her feel like the world is coming to an end because there is no way a piece of cake can taste THAT good otherwise.

Sometimes, a girl just needs a piece of cake that makes her say, “Holy f-ing moly this is a damn good piece of cake.”

Yep. I totally said that while devouring a piece of this cake.

And you will too.

Bad day or not. It’ll rock your socks.

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Double Spelt…Double Chocolate…Double Yum Cookies.

13 Jul

Photos by Fab

The perfect dessert, to me, is still a chocolate chip cookie. If you want to make me happy, give me 2 chocolate chip cookies with a glass of skim milk, and meet me on cloud nine. It’ll be great. I love chocolate chip cookies so!

Lately, however, I have not been very good to myself. I’ve been working a lot, baking a lot of cool things…mostly to impress you…yes you…and have not left much time for baking a good old chocolate chip cookie. Why? Well….if I had my way, I’d bake chocolate chip cookies every day, and post nothing but chocolate chip cookies, and you’d get bored, and I’d get larger because nobody at work will want to eat my baked goods after a while so I’d have to eat them….and so on and so on.

The result, is me looking longingly at every order of cookies and ice cream that goes out at my restaurant and wishing for nothing more than a bite of that crispy, buttery, chewy centered, hint of chocolate-y goodness in my belly!

I had to do it. I had to make chocolate chip cookies, I’m SORRY.

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Peaches and Cream Scones

10 Jul

Confession. I have made so many batches of “shame scones” in my life that I cannot even count.

Come again? (that’s what she said)

Shame scones are failed scones. Put the word shame in front of the name of any baked good and you’ve got yourself the perfect definition for a failed attempt at yummy baked goodness. You might come across this term a lot in further posts. And when I say might, I mean most definitely.

At August Restaurant we bake cream scones and buttermilk biscuits every Sunday morning for our brunch service. There I am, at 7:30 am, wrists deep in butter and flour. My scones? They have recently reached perfection. My biscuits? Still shame biscuits, although they’re improving big time. Maybe certain quick breads and I just weren’t meant to be friends.

The scones took over a year to perfect. Sad. I would make the dough too dry, or too wet, cut them too big or too thick, or sometimes they all fused together during baking; puddle scones if you will. I would look into the oven to find that I had created yet another batch of shame scones. Then I would pout for a few minutes. Then eat one. Then feel a little better. Then promise myself that I’d do better next time.

Thank goodness I have a patient chef; she does me the favour of not asking me if I suffer from some sort of retardation. I am grateful. She even laughs sometimes, as she goes to have a scone for breakfast before the rush. Again. I am grateful.

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