The Opera Queen

Tag: Nigella Lawson

Go Eat

By

On April 6, 2017

In food, writing

I’ve gotten away from food writing, among other things, the last few years. There’s no real reason for this (other than dramatic life events, I suppose) — my love of cooking remains unabated, and I do it several times a week, more than usual the last while, as I stock up my freezer with portion-sized things in anticipation of a busy time.

However, sometimes I don’t crave anything hearty so much as fresh, light, tasty. I love my salads, but virulent IBS doesn’t make it possible to enjoy salads as much as I’d like. It’s only been through trial and error I’ve discovered what my body will and won’t accept: Boston lettuce, yes; kale-anything, no. Based on some tasty recent experiences at a favorite restaurant, I started experimenting with basic ingredients, ones I knew wouldn’t upset me, but would still satisfy my hunger for crunchy, tasty, light… and easy. It may come as a shock to some, but working from home doesn’t automatically mean that nothing is hard, tiring (even exhausting), or draining — quite the opposite, particularly if one happens to live alone.

Regardless of work environment and family status, the last thing one may wish to do at the end of a busy, full day is cook up a large, heavy meal, especially at the end of a winter season that’s already been filled with many meals of that nature. Some very basic washing, blotting, chopping (similar to Nigella Lawson describing stirring as “soothing,” I find chopping has a similar effect on me), and then light mixing, is the best kind of therapy I can think of, not to mention incredibly nourishing.

I’ve been heartened the last little while by the reaction I received to my first “light dinner” experiment; when I posted a photo of my creation on Instagram, the reaction was pleasingly enthusiastic. Tonight I decided to make a follow-up, using a few ingredients I wish I’d originally had, and usually always do have on-hand. I think we all have our basics we like to have at hand — in our pantries, refrigerators, sitting on the counter or breadboard, waiting to be used. My basics (as you’ll see listed below) include flat parsley (also called Italian parsley), cannellini (a white kidney, but smaller), plum tomatoes, roasted red peppers (else a chopped, marinated peppers), feta cheese, kalamata olives, sometimes sun-dried tomatoes, and more often than not lately, radicchio (because I can digest it without trouble; because it keeps for a while; and because it is tasty). These ingredients are in addition to very good olive oil and white balsamic, both of which I always have at hand. I use almost all the ingredients in the recipe below — but if you want to use everything, go for it; feel free to throw in some marinated artichoke hearts, pieces of cooked, chopped chicken breast, and/or snips of curly endive and/or fresh dill, too.

Of course, this should be enjoyed with crusty baguette that has been warmed up quick in the oven.

Photo: mine. Please do not use without permission.

Radicchio Dinner Salad

1/2 head of radicchio
1/2 bunch flat parsley
1 plum tomato
1 whole roasted pepper OR 2-3 spoons of chopped peppers from the jar
1 400g/398ml/14 fl oz tin of cannellini, rinsed and drained
8-10 kalamata olives, pitted
1 double-thumb-sized chunk of feta (optional)
6-8 sun-dried tomatoes (optional)
extra-virgin olive oil
white balsamic
fresh pepper
salt

Thinly slice radicchio lengthwise, then roughly chop. You’re aiming for luxurious, longish purple shards. Place in a large salad bowl.

Rinse parsley and roughly chop. Shake excess moisture off. Wrap in a towel to blot water.
Do the same with the cannellini; after rinsing and draining, wrap them in a towel (paper or cloth; either is fine) to absorb the excess moisture. This step is very important, both for flavour, and for the texture of your salad.

Chop plum tomato, keeping mind to discard the seeds before placing in bowl with radicchio. (Again, this affects not only the flavour, but the texture, and if, like me, you have a hard time digesting them, it’s a favour to your body.)

Roughly chop roasted pepper, or measure 2-3 generous spoons of chopped pepper from the jar. Throw it on top of your radicchio. Don’t worry if you get a bit (just a bit!) of the oil from the marinade in there; that gives flavour.

Roughly chop kalamata olives and throw in the bowl.
Same with sun-dried tomatoes, if using, and feta, which you can roughly chop, or crumble with your fingers straight into the bowl.

Retrieve the towel-blotted parsley, then cannellini, adding both to the bowl.

Add a small glug of olive oil, and a sprinkling of olive oil; grind in pepper and salt as you wish.

Toss.

Enjoy (especially with crusty baguette).

Store unused portions in airtight (preferably glass) container.

Easy, delicious, healthy; now wasn’t that easy?

Lovely Lawson

By

On January 28, 2011

In food

 

A new Nigella Lawson book is always cause for celebration in my world.

With plenty of know-how, an approachable style, and a playful spirit, Lawson’s work is an automatic go-to when I’m running low on ideas and inspiration. Her other works, like How To Eat, Feast, Forever Summer, Nigella Christmas, and Nigella Express are chalk-full of yummy, smart, and mainly easy dishes. Her basic pizza recipe from How To Be A Domestic Goddess is a staple in my kitchen, and it isn’t too much of an exaggeration to state that How To Eat was life-changing.

Sure, Nigella is a food goddess -much ink (and drool) has been spilled chronicling that aspect of her -but she’s also a seriously good writer. Without a trace of smarmy know-it-all-ness but with oodles of honesty, Nigella’s been chronicling what goes on in her kitchen now for almost two decades. It helps that she used to be a journalist; it’s equally helpful that she throws in plenty of personal references to keeping her children, friends, and work colleagues nourished. With a slew of titles and television shows under her belt, she strikes me as something like a super-elegant, knowledgable, refreshingly un-hipsterish, print-loving version of a food blogger. With great power -and beauty, and culinary skills -comes great responsibility, and Nigella ably, amply fulfills the requirements for being a wily, wonderful kitchen-witch.
Unlike her last book, a holiday/Christmas book from 2008, her latest, Kitchen: Recipes From The Heart Of The Home (Knopf), offers a cross-section, multi-seasonal approach, with a firm focus on the basics and homey favorites. Within the pages of the 400+ page hardcover tome, you’ll find clear directions, easy-to-understand terms, as well as a thorough Express Index. The book is handily divided into two sectons: “Kitchen Quandaries” and “Kitchen Comforts”. Each section contains chapters like “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”, “The solace of stirring” and, happily, “Chicken and its place in my home”. Nigella has never made a secret of her love of a simple roast chicken throughout her work, and indeed, I still use her basic recipe from How To Eat as the basis of my own: start with a good organic bird, stick half a lemon up the bottom, “annoint” (her word) with butter and olive oil, stick in the oven. Easy-peasy.
So it’s nice to see her acknowledge her love of poultry, and to introduce fresh new ideas that are, as ever, Nigella’s signature blend of yummy and easy. As she writes in the chapter introduction, “for me, a chicken remains the basic unit of home. I don’t really feel a kitchen is mine until I’ve cooked a chicken there.” I can’t agree more. Dining out last week in New York, I struck up a conversation with a restaurant manager one night about our shared love of food; he asked me about my own specialty in the kitchen, and answered, after a momentary shyness, “roast chicken.” There’s something undeniably wonderful about its scent filling the house, the yummy drippings, the moist meat, and the luscious leftovers. Equally, it’s nice to see these easy, warming recipes; Thai Chicken Noodle Soup, Poached Chicken With Lardons & Lentils, and Chinatown Chicken Salad are all delicious, easy, and yes, inexpensive. I defy anyone who swears they can’t cook to try Nigella’s Quick Chicken Caesar recipe. I suspect, like much of Kitchen itself, that she wrote it just for them.
The introduction also features a fantastic section called “Kitchen Confidential”, which outlines all the tips, tools, and tricks for home cooks of all abilities. She details the usefulness of having boiling water handy, the benefits of buttermilk in cooking, the uses of baking soda, when and how to freeze stock, and her love of having a myriad of bottles (like vermouth, marsala and garlic-infused oil) around her stovetop. She also doles out an important piece of advice for home cooks of all levels:

This is so much easier to say than to do, but try, when you’re cooking for people, not to apologize nervously for what you’ve made, alerting them to some failure only you might be aware of, or indeed, might have invented. Besides, it only creates tension ,and although I do believe food is important, atmosphere matters so much more.

Atmosphere, and I would argue, confidence. Kitchen: Recipes From The Heart Of The Home is a tool to provide you with just that when you approach any culinary -or indeed, sensual -endeavor. You can make something, and do well, and enjoy it, with others, or just by yourself. And why wouldn’t you? Go forth. Cook. Eat. Live. Be happy. So says Nigella… and it’s gorgeously, delicious true.

Damn Good Dinner

By

On March 15, 2010

In food

Few things inspire me like a person new to the culinary world; it implies both a healthy curiosity and a concern for healthy eating. Anything homemade is always going to beat microwaved Frankenfood. So a recent note from a fellow Twitterati/ journalist felt like a call to inspiration, the way I painter is drawn to canvas or a musician to their instrument. Sharing food ideas and any help is my passion, because I love to cook.

I sent this fellow journalist a response, included a link to my last recipe posted (a hit with busy moms), as well as helpful book suggestions (listed below). I also promised myself I would starting posting recipes more often.

As it happens, I had a very hectic day: two blog posts, several phone calls, emails, a doctor’s appointment, and some running around. I wanted something fairly easy and effort-free, if also homey, flavoursome, and healthy. Ergo, meet my Oven-Roasted Herb-Garlic Chicken Breasts.

Prep time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 30-40 minutes

You will need:

4 chicken breasts, skin and bone on
2 tbsp butter
2 tbsp olive oil
2-3 garlic cloves
1 sprig rosemary
1-2 tsps dried oregano
1/2 lemon
1 tsp sea salt

Pre-heat oven to 425F (use the convection setting if you have it, otherwise set at 450F).

Pour 1 tbsp of the olive oil into a large broad oven dish; you can use a large glass one or a nice square roaster, but keep it shallow, and make sure the breasts fit snugly together.

With clean hands, anoint the fresh chicken breasts with the butter; Nigella Lawson has a wonderful expression (from her basic roast chicken recipe) of spreading the butter around “like a very expensive handcream” -which is apt. Make sure every little bit of the chicken breasts are lubricated. Place in the oven dish, making sure pieces are snug but not busting.

Wash and dry your hands, and then carefully pick the needles from the rosemary sprig. Discard the stalk. Using a very sharp knife, finely chop the needles, and sprinkle them evenly on the tops of the breasts.

Follow this with the oregano (again, use your fingers to sprinkle -much nicer distribution that way). Pour the other tbsp (or so) of olive oil on top.

Take your garlic cloves and peel, then half them. Place the flat part of your knife on top of them, and give a few good pounds, so you’re crushing the cut cloves (you may need to do this in stages, doing a few garlic pieces at a time -which is perfectly fine). You’ll find nice flat pieces of fragrant crushed garlic to scatter on top of the chicken breasts.

Take the half a lemon, cut it again in half, and slice into very thin pieces; scatter on top of the breasts. Sprinkle the sea salt on top (again, use your fingers) and drape a piece of tin foil on top, then pop the dish into your hot oven.

(You can use this time to throw a salad together, if you wish; a basic cucumber/tomato/mixed greens is good with a light dressing. I also happened to have some roasted potatoes already made, so I popped those into an earthenware dish, gave a glug of oil, a grind of pepper, and threw into the same oven for the chicken’s last 10 minutes.)

After 15 minutes, remove the chicken, and take off the foil. Things will be sizzling and fizzling, so mind you don’t stand too close or poke your nose in to inhale the fragrant, herb-garlic aroma.

Using a baster or a spoon, spread all those lovely chickeny/buttery/olive oily juices over the breasts a few times, then whack back in the oven for another 10 minutes or so with the foil off.

Poke a breast (pun unintentional) with a sharp knife after the ten minutes is up; the meat should feel solid, and the juices run clear. Take the chicken out (again, mind the sizzle), baste one more time, and whack back in for 5 to 7 minutes.

For a nice burnished top, turn the broiler on medium-high heat and leave the chicken breasts in (without moving the oven rack) for about 3 or 4 minutes after this (keep watch). The lemon slices and crushed garlic might be singed and blackened at their edges; this is perfectly fine.

Remove and… voila. Enjoy. Serve with salad and, if you like, starch of your choice.

Oh, and those book suggestions: I recommend these for both newcomers and seasoned home cooks, for the breadth of their ideas, accomplishment of their respective authors, and overall ease. They are:

To this I would only add one other book: How To Eat, (Random House, 1998) by Nigella Lawson, which provided inspiration for this recipe in the first place.

All of these titles are perffect for the cook who’s harried, hurried, and not entirely familiar with the culinary arts. Bon appetit!

Hurts, Wrinkles, Desire (aka Life)

By

On February 8, 2010

In opera

This afternoon I had the pleasure of hearing the dulcet tones of Shelagh Rogers float across my office. Shelagh was the host of a program on CBC Radio (since canceled) called Sounds Like Canada, but has since gone on to host a weekly literary program, The Next Chapter. Today’s show had a distinct theme: bleak endings and new beginnings, particularly related to matters of the heart. With the yearly Valentine’s Day assault kicking into high gear, it seemed a particularly timely topic, with a refreshingly bittersweet twist.

One of Shelagh’s guests was Mary-Jo Eustace, the spurned ex-wife of actor Dean McDermott, who infamously left her for Tori Spelling and went on to do reality television. She has a new book about her experience called Divorce Sucks and has been featured in Hello! Canada as well as Good Morning America, Dr Phil, Joy Behar, Access Hollywood, Extra, Inside Edition, Bonnie Hunt, People Magazine and US Weekly. I interviewed Mary-Jo Eustace myself around this time last year. She was co-hosting a cooking show with Canadian food personality Ken Kostick called He Said, She Said. Along with yummy, easy-to-prep recipes, the show featured witty, sometimes salty exchanges of the two acid-tongued hosts. I was eager to meet them and learn more about their chemistry and how they come up with their food ideas.

I was not interested in the tawdry details of her break-up. I’d been warned by the publicist not to broach the topic of Mary-Jo’s personal life, I didn’t, in truth, have any interest in wading into those waters; they were, to me, too deep, too painful, and frankly, none of my business. And, being a foodie, I was more interested in her relationship to food and her viewers. She was polite and classy in answering my questions but I sensed a wary kind of judgment as well, manifest in a few brief barbs related to what she perceived to be my youth.

Regardless of this, I sensed a real sadness about her, and I left the interview feeling her anger was really a ruse covering a deeper wound. I also sensed an intense worry over her age and its relationship to her potential desirability as a woman. Looking at my own wrinkles and bumps lately, I sense that anxiety too. Media outlets can push the “elegance” of all the Meryl Streeps and Helen Mirrens they like -the fact remains that they’re not known as smoking hot babes. If you’re over 30, how do you compete with the like of Elisha, Jessica, Megan, et al? The truth is: you don’t. Self-acceptance is a long road, and it’s certainly made harder with an unquestioned man-boy culture that deems female aging to be equated with worthlessness -or worse, sexual repellance.

Where did this come from? I saw photos of Madonna in W Magazine recently, and I was utterly inspired. She may have had work done, but who cares? She looks glammy, vampy, campy, unapologetic, and utterly present. “Would it sound better if I was a man?” she whispers knowingly in her song, “Human Nature“. I have to wonder if the same spirit applies to women who age loudly, unapologetically, with sexual aplomb, blazing confidence, searing intelligence, and scalding wit, wearing heartbreak, healing, and a hard-won wisdom loudly and proudly. I can only hope that, like Mary-Jo, Madge, and yes, Nigella, I can embody a few of these qualities. Me, go gently into that good night? I don’t think so. But I wouldn’t mind being called a smoking hot babe one more time.

Woman. Hungry.

By

On January 28, 2010

In food

As I tucked into my quickly-thrown-together past earlier tonight, the thought occurred that it was perhaps a bit late to be digging into such a rich dish. 10:30pm? Yikes.

“Have to hit the gym tomorrow,” I thought, with more than a hint of anxiety.

While I am a big promoter (and lover) of physical activity, I can’t deny that a larger thought overtook the guilt-tinged one: damn it, I’m hungry. I had a long, stressful day, it’s cold out, and damn, I was really hungry. Women are often, I feel, given the nth degree of guilt when it comes to our relationship with food. It’s as if we’re only meant to eat salad, fruit, and tuna, and never revel in the hugely enjoyable delight that comes with gastronomy. “Stay thin!” every media image shouts, “body fat is disgusting!” It’s as if I have choose: a great body, or fulfilling my appetite. How unfair.

Thus, it follows that a large part of my attraction to Nigella Lawson is her turning away from this guilt over all things food-related, and freely, sensuously celebrating indulgence in the acts of cooking and eating. I still sometimes think that, despite my truly admiring her bringing in a decidedly European approach, we’re too far too youth-and-skinny obsessed (especially in North America) to truly heed her message. She isn’t arguing for gluttony -but nor is she arguing for poe-faced self-denial. She’s arguing for rich, luscious womanhood, something I’m still not sure North America can wrap its size-0-youth-obsessed heads around.

And so it was that I found myself greedily spooning in mouthfuls of gorgeous, creamy, vegetable-laden pasta lastnight, amidst watching documentaries, writing future blogs, and organizing a myriad of projects. It hit the spot. I offer this handy stir-together recipe for all busy, harried women -and men -who want a good, nourishing meal after a long day. Pour yourself a glass of wine while you’re at it. Eat, and enjoy.

You’ll need:

roughly a handful of pasta (or two, if you want leftovers)
salt
olive oil
Noilly Prat (or other good white vermouth)
1/2 cup broccoli (baby is best)
1/2 red pepper
1/2 tomato (or 1 plum tomato)
1/4 red chili
a handful of spinach leaves
1/2 cup tomato sauce (passata, jarred, or creamy are all fine)
roughly 4 tbsp fresh-grated parmesan

Salt and boil water. Add pasta, stir, add more salt (I use coarse-cut sea salt, but use whatever you like).

As the pasta cooks, prep the vegetables. I’ve listed broccoli, red pepper, spinach, and chili, but you can also use carrot, zuccini, onion -whatever you have on-hand, but keep it varied, colourful, and flavourful.

Peel broccoli stems and discard the peels. Cut peeled stems on the diagonal in medium strips; judge florets accordingly. You want them to be bite-sized. Set aside. Roughly chop red pepper (again, keep pieces bite-sized -medium-ish, in other words). Set aside. Chop tomato and set aside. Wash and roughly dry spinach leaves. Remove stems. Chop roughly and set aside. Carefully slice chili pepper (it’s a good idea to wear gloves); if you don’t like things too spicy, discard the seeds. Set aside, making sure the chopped chilis don’t touch anything else.

Drain pasta once it’s cooked; 8-10 minutes should do the trick, depending on what type you use -I like penne or large shells for things involving sauces, but if you only have spaghetti or some other ribbon-like pasta, then leave out the tomato-based sauce (and indeed, chopped tomato) and go with butter and garlic instead.

Using the same pot you cooked the pasta in, heat up the olive oil. You’ll need just enough to coat the bottom of the pan. Turn down the heat to medium. Add chopped broccoli, and stir around to coat. Add a splash of Noilly Prat and clamp the lid on to steam lightly for 3-5 minutes. When broccoli is a bright green, add the red pepper and stir. The mixture might still be liquid -that’s okay. Add the chopped tomato and stir around. Clamp on the lid and allow to bubble merrily for about 2-3 minutes. Add the chilies and stir; let cook for about a minute.

Shake off excess water from the pasta and throw in, along with any tomato-based sauce you may be using. Stir. Add chopped spinach. Stir stir stir. The spinach might seem overwhelming for the pasta, but as it is heated with the rest of the mixture, it will quickly wilt down, leaving gorgeous green ribbons winding their way through the pot.

Gently grate the parmesan straight in. Stir gently and turn off the heat. I’ve given a measurement of 4 tbsp, but certainly, use as much (or as little) as you wish. You want the cheese essentially to draw things together. Grate more on top (if you wish) once it’s in your plate, in a mound of gorgeous tomato-y lusciousness.

Spoon in. Drink wine. Repeat.

And most of all: no guilt. You’re hungry. Period.

My Favourite Things

By

On January 3, 2009

I don’t like lists. It’s the main reason I resist writing hoary old “Top Ten Shows of 2008” sorts of things. Unless a writer/artist experiences a heck of a lot of different things (not just theatre, but music, cinema, telly, & you know, life) they’re going to be creating from inside a navel-gazing bubble. So instead of doing a formal list of shows I liked in 2008, I’m going to provide a few favourite live moments from 2008, along with stuff I’m looking forward to in 2009. Call it the Ghosts of Good Stuff, Past & Future.

2008:

–Festen / Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me: The Berkeley Street Theatre ended the year with a duo of powerhouse dramas in both its upstairs and downstairs spaces. Both about families of different sorts, the skillfully directed and acted works were punches to the gut, and stayed with me far past my exiting the theatre’s doors.

–The Music Man / Moby Dick: The yin and yang of the Stratford Festival this past season. Both seeming-opposites, playing in the largest and smallest festival spaces respectively, and yet both had so much in common. I had to think for hours which one was actually more epic -the story of man vs. whale or man-in-a-small-town (on the surface anyway). Brilliantly directed, with charismatic leading men, the Festival made a brave, brilliant choice to have two such works playing at the same time.

–Rachid Taha: The Algerian-French singer’s concert at the Phoenix in July was a mix of Arab, rock, pop, dance, punk, chaabi, and… everything else. In an interview last year, he quoted Frank Zappa in describing his music as couscous. No kidding. A sweaty good time, Taha and his 7-man band played for a riotous, celebratory two-plus hours. Not a word was in English, either. It didn’t matter. Brilliant.

–The Williamson Playboys: Opening the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival with a host of other acts, the Playboys (played with ferocious playfulness by Doug Morency and Paul Bates) won over the crowd with their mix of gentle, fierce, silly and profound. I haven’t laughed so hard, for so long, in… too long. Lesson learned: you just haven’t lived until you’ve heard Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog played with just a ukelele and tuba.

–Nigella Express / Nigella’s Christmas Kitchen: I know, I know. This isn’t technically a series, so much as it is a chance to ogle the British Domestic Goddess. But the tips are really practical (if you can pay enough attention) and the results are damn good. In this case, it is as easy as it looks. Honest. And Nigella’s love of food is a joyful expression of life -something we all need to remember.

–Election night: After the drama of the Democratics, then the even-more-dramatic U.S. election campaign that featured an assortment of interesting players, the whole thing culminated in a huge gathering in Chicago. Jesse Jackson’s tears, chanting masses, Oprah’s runny mascara, and the President-Elect’s confident waves and smiles made for a moving, affecting piece of real, live theatre. I’ve never seen anything like it. Part 2: The Inauguration, coming soon.

2009:

–Blackbird: Written by David Harrower and directed by Joel Greenburg, Studio 180 is back at the Berkeley after last year’s stunning Stuff Happens, David Hare’s deconstruction of the politics behind the Iraq War. If Blackbird is anywhere near as thrilling and compelling, the Berkeley will have another solid play under its roof.

–Antigone: The timely Sophocles tragedy gets the Soulpepper treatment. A favourite play of mine (personal disclosure: I starred in a production in London moons ago), I can’t wait to see powerhouse actor Liisa Repo-Martell in the lead, chewing the scenery a host of other great Canadian actors, including David Storch and Claire Calnan.

–Them And Us: Actor/writer Tracy Dawson’s take on modern relating gets a theatrical exploration. I know, I know, I can hear every male friend of mine yawning at the thought of sitting through a play about… relationships. But if Dawson’s energy is anything to go on (I interviewed her recently), the show is sure to be sarcastic, funny, insightful, and have something for both genders.

–The Entertainer: John Osbourne’s rarely-performed piece (in Canada, anyway) receives a production at the Shaw Festival, courtesy of Shaw Fest Artistic Director Jackie Maxwell. Exploring notions of “entertainment” and our expectations around it, the piece has a timely relevance, and features some of Canada’s finest performers, including Benedict Campbell in the lead.

–The Soloist: Joe Wright’s filmic adaptation of the Steve Lopez book. Lopez is a columnist with the L.A. Times who met the homeless Nathaniel Ayers years ago; the book explores their relationship, and the vitality of music, art, and writing. Featuring Robert Downey Jr. as Lopez and Jamie Foxx as Ayers, I’m thinking this will be one for the Oscar voters next year.

–Jessica Lea Mayfield: The singer/songwriter from Kent, Ohio caught me with her beautiful tune, “Kiss Me Again.” Thoughtful without being pretentious, uncomplicated without being folksy, she’s an interesting combination of Cat Power, Patti Smith, and Joni Mitchell, but definitely brings a style all her own. And she’s only 19. Holy smokes.

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