jamiemaw

Thank you for your kind remarks, DLV. And please stay tuned!

Maggie, I was able to convince the Roasted Adolescents to sign a release; photos this afernoon.

Of Tension and Release: Tofino Great cooking—like sex, fishing and Beethoven—is about tension and release. Today, we’re hoping to find all of these vital, life-sustaining components, and to celebrate them, some in front of you. On the wild west coast of Vancouver Island, the remote town of Tofino hangs on for dear life through bombastic storms that roll in - all the way from Japan and Russia - clear across the Paciifc. Tofino is about a 50-minute flight from Vancouver in a twin-engine aircraft, or a two-hour ferry ride and several hour drive over the mountainous rainforest of the island. We take a wheeled aircraft; the chances of landing (as much as I adore the Beaver) are better on the inland runway (built as part of the RCAF Coastal Command in WWII) than in the oft-foggy harbour. Although its terrible beauty is most obvious in the scud of clouds and moody sky, look down. Little miracles of survival astound at each step; this is a place of necessary resilience and adaptability. The fierce onshore winds sculpts the vegetation. The German word for this phenomenon is krumholtz—bent wood—bent to the will of an unstoppable, roaring ambition. Up until a decade or so ago, Tofino was a coastal town in transition. Logging and the commercial fisheries, especially salmon, had begun to move on. It re-invented itself, almost by chance, as an eco-tourism resort, with whale watching, surfing, idling, hiking and the salmon sports fishery taking hold. But it’s also very much about the real estate; values have increased dramatically and the expansion of the hospitality industry in Tofino and its neighbouring town of Uculet has been hefty. Marketing Tofino’s stormy, five month-long winter season was originally a challenge. But someone, in a flash of native brilliance (some credit Mayor Whitey Bernard), actually branded ‘The Storm Season’, especially in Germany, and now tourists come by the wide-body load throughout the winter to walk the beaches, admire the crashing surf and eat and drink, from the coastal larder, very well. Well, I know it brings out my inner Nietzsche. For that matter, on a good day—when the rain blows horizontal—you can throw in a garnish of Schopenhauer. What better thing to do than take a chilled Dungeness crab back to one’s hot tub at The Wickaninnish Inn (aka ‘The Wick’), open a bottle of the local pinot gris and turn out the lights? The hotel trains spotlights on the crash and moan of the surf; on a good night the waves sound like a whole stadium of applause. Or when the wind begins to shriek in the arbutus and firs, an express freight about to derail. But we’re not going to Tofino just to find our outer Lena Horne. Eva and I have been putting off a visit for too long. And frankly, having travelled so much in the past year, I would just love to hold her next to me. She played the Chopin étude last night with that Danish precision of hers. And then her right hand—in the scant 90 seconds the piece allows—found 1848 before returning home. The Wickaninnish Inn (for authentic Canadian pronunciation, slur the last syllable as if you were slightly drunk) is one of the town’s resorts that got Tofino rolling again. It sits on the northern point of Chesterman Beach. We'll show you around when we land. But the brilliance of yesterday is wrapped in a shawl of fog this morning; a clairvoyant couldn’t tell you what day it is. On most Sundays I take the morning off. Good newspapers make a warm duvet and strong coffee cleaves the mind, much as the little aircraft that we are just about to board will surely cut through this mist-damped air.

My god that kitchen is spotless *drools * How often do these guys get to use it ? ← Yhey use the kitchen every day, throughout the year. The Terrace (where Chef Cuff is positioned during the season) has its own kitchen, but most of the prep goes though here - Mission Hill caters for up to 600 on-site.

Please talk more about this dessert. Were the quince preserves or poached? How did the soufflé taste? Merci pour le blog. C'est formidable! Zuke ← If you look to the back of the image, Zuke, you can just make out the poached version over the preserved. Quince is high in pectin, and takes the coddle well. Perfect foil to the warm, nutty depths of the chestnut souffle. A lovely dessert and so local it walked over.

Your camera has a cuisine setting? Were they marketing directly to eGulleters? Brilliant! ← I have the identical camera, and I use the cuisine setting too... I like the simplicity of this camera... cg ← Well you certainly did a beautiful job with it last week, cg!

Due to making dinner for your viewing pleasure today, jayhay, I was forced to espy the vertiginous peaks of Mount Eva, a not unpleasant prospect that brings a more profound meaning to the term "gaping Maw."

HEINEKEN 2005! Nice touch. Paired with which appetizer? As for your mention upthread of a camera--Olympus 500--with a "cuisine" setting, more tongue in cheek? Tasty travels. ← All of them, actually, although I did break training and have a flute of the Lanson. It's the Olympus 500 Stylus, about US$300 or so.

I suppose you were enjoying yourself, with tongue firmly planted in ... cheeks. divalasvegas, you took my line ... Please describe the flavor & the texture of the wild boar cheeks. How "gamey" was it? It didn't dry out, ehh? The pairing with the Shiraz, how well did it work? I'm speculating that the boar cheeks had a strong flavor & needed something similiarly strong as well. Truth be told, though, there must be a lot of grimacing boars out there. ← Yes, as you could plainly see in the prep roll-call, we had more boars than the 19th hole at Kelowna Golf and Country. Part of the braising fluid was also shiraz. The gaminess softens during the long braising time, and comes out more like a lovely (and very moist) lamb osso buco. The shiraz provided immaculate support. It's a big, rich, rosy-cheeked weather kind of dish to be sure; the (unpictured)puréed cauliflower was a snowy riposte.

Your camera has a cuisine setting? Were they marketing directly to eGulleters? Brilliant! ← I have the identical camera, and I use the cuisine setting too... I like the simplicity of this camera... cg ← Yeah, more than half the time the big aluminum case stays home - too much lug factor, to say nothing of pulling the wonk factor in a restaurant. The Olympus has other features too, including the Karl Rove-approved "Documents" setting for shooting menus and "Behind Glass" for deli-cases.

Yes, it's hardly intuitive that beets and a dash of vinegar would support oysters, is it? But they live and breath as one in the mouth. Strangely soothing in combination, the beets introduce an earthiness not seen since Lena Horne.

In my absence, Eva, bless her burnished heart, has done lots of shopping for tonight. So in addition to Seven Hour Sacrificial Lamb and Cheesier Than Mariah Carey Scalloped Potatoes we'll also be featuring Roasted Adolescents, easily one of my autumnal favourites other than Loose Morels. By the way, the seven hour lamb comes from the La Régalade cookbook, by chef Alain Rayé of West Vancouver via Paris. Good guy. Until then, Jamie PS - Your questions gladly answered!

Chestnuts (Well, Chestnut Soufflés) Roasting On An Open Fire Ingo Grady and Michael Allemeier, two of the most gracious men in culinary and wine show business, outdid themselves last night, in the relaxed setting of Ingo's home. His fiancee Patti had decorated it in the reds and greens of Christmas and a fire sang in the grate. Our day began at 11, with a visit to the beautifully-equipped Mission Hill Family Estate kitchens. There, winery chef Allemeier and his executive sous, Tim Cuff were beginning the dinner prep - something decidedly seasonal, and a salute to the Ice Wine Harvest that took place over the past week. The dinner was relaxed but detailed (including lovely printed menus) and a joy - the laughter ran thick and fast. Here again is the menu: Lanson Champagne 1996 Loimer Riesling 2003 Heineken 2005 Spinach Cakes with Smoked Salmon Oysters on the Half Shell (Malpeques & Gigamotos) - Beet Mignonette Lior Gougeres 2004 Mission Hill Five Vineyards Pinot Blanc Sunchoke and Leek Soup with Weathervane Scallop Sweet Garlic 2002 MH Reserve Shiraz Slow Braised Wild Boar Cheeks with Truffled Cauliflower Purée 1997 MH Grand Reserve Gewurztraminer Ice Wine (46 cases made) Chestnut Soufflé with Gingered Quince Vanilla Bean Crème Anglais The Preparation Chef Allemeier prepares the gougeres . . . While chef Cuff watches over a stock reduction. The gougeres are piped onto the baking sheet. They would prove a diabolic accomplice to the Lanson - light and subtly cheesy. The boar cheeks are removed from their marinade of mirepoix and aromatics, and patted dry to take the sear. Chef demonstrates the Grande Dame induction hob to Tiffany Soper. Note that the pan of water next to her hand is on a fierce boil. Cedar Jelly - a classic Canadian condiment. Imagine rosemary on crack. The boar cheeks come off their sear, ready to hit the braise. Fresh vegetables and aromatics are readied for the braise. And finally, the warmed stock is added . . . The bread cools nearby . . . While a legend for the winery's herb garden awaits spring to catch it up. The Chagal tapestry in the entrance foyer to the winery. Dinner: The fire on, cold Champagne, a mess of great friends. This, when it's all said and done, is about all I care to know. The only thing missing was Eva, who had a very busy week and had to stay back in Vancouver. The gougeres were crisped pillows of captured light. And cheese. Alibi, MH Reserve Shiraz, Quail's Gate Pinot Noir. Cold-smoked salmon on spinach blinis. Chef Allemeier, your correspondent, our host Ingo Grady, and Grant Stanley, head winemaker at the adjacent Quail's Gate Estate Winery. Grant used to run the floor at London's Bibendum. The womenfolk were cowering in an adjacent room. Giagamoto oysters on the half-shell, with beet mignonette. Sunchoke and leek soup with weathervane scallop and sunchoke chips. The money shot: steaming slow-braised boar cheeks and root vegetables. Chestnut souflé, which would be accompanied with gingered quince and creme anglais. Seven o'clock would come rather early this morning. Well, seven o'clock and -8 degrees C (about 17.5 degrees F). And yes, we boarded by the tradesmen's entrance. At the other end of the 35-minute flight, in Vancouver, we walked off into more sunshine, but +8 degrees (47.5 degrees F). Positively balmy! I hope that you enjoyed visiting the Okanagan Wine Country with us. Tonight, I'm cooking at our home in Vancouver. And tomorrow morning, we're off to the wild West Coast of Vancouver Island. I really hope that this bright, warm(ish) weather holds. I want to walk on Chesterman Beach - where the waves arrive from Japan and collapse on the sand like spent lovers - and hold my one true love tight. See you soon, Jamie

This useful Boy recipe (see story upthread) is straightforward and delicious, Russell. Once you've located the graham flour, the assembly takes all of five minutes. Then it's into the oven for about the time required for a restorative pre-tea Sunday nap. Just set the alarm. As regards the additions, I grab whatever's handy. Dried cranberries work very well on their own--just throw in the whole package (170 grams or about 6 ounces) minimum. Currants and raisins (a generous handful of each) also promote the toast, especially when it's simply oozing with butter.

Susan, Believe it or not, most of the (non-archival) shots were taken with a little Olympus Stylus 500; it has a "cuisine" setting that enriches glorious ingredients on glossy white plates, but also has a pretty good lens for landscapes and portraits. Some of the larger architectural shots were shot on my old Nikon SLR's. You can thank the brilliant Okanagan sky for some of those other-worldly effects--the light is magnificent there. Well, I'm back in Vancouver, slightly winded, and just about to prepare the lamb for dinner. Wish me luck, Jamie

Gloria’s Irish Soda Bread A family favourite—and dead easy. Graham flour is coarser (it contains more bran) than whole wheat and works best, although whole wheat flour can be substituted. Use fresh baking soda. We often add dates, craisins (dried cranberries), raisins, currants, figs and fennel or anise. The plain loaves are excellent for toast and preserves or with gravadlax.The doctored ones are lovely with tea. An egg wash will deliver a shiny top. In a large mixing bowl, combine 5 cups graham flour 2 cups white flour ½ cup wheat germ ½ cup sugar 5 tsp baking soda 5 tsp salt 1 litre buttermilk Up to half ½ litre milk Blend dry ingredients thoroughly. Add buttermilk and mix with a rubber spatula, adding additional milk until dry spots have disappeared and dough takes on the glossy appearance in the photograph. Chopped dates or other dried fruits add an extra dimension and make for a great tea-time bite. Place dough in loaf in lightly buttered loaf pans. Place in a pre-heated 350 degree oven. Bake for 65 minutes in a convected oven, about 10 minutes longer in a standard oven, or until a wooden skewer comes out cleanly. Cool on a wire rack for one hour. Makes two loaves

We arrived back home at Treetops late last night after a wonderfully cosseting meal and retinue of local and long distance wines - only to collapse into bed. A magnum of Lanson had launched the evening, interspersed with some cleansing ales to help me keep my weight up. We're up very early to fly back to Vancouver to prepare for our dinner party there - we'll be visiting Jackson's Meats on South Granville on the way in from the airport to pick up the central ingredient for "Seven Hour Sacrificial Lamb." Once the lamb's in the oven, we'll post the prep-and-devour photos from last night's dinner. And, as threatened, we'll post the photos and recipe for Irish Soda Bread as well. Cheers, Jamie

I don't spot wide discrepancies as much as I used to, Chris. Service levels are relatively high here because of the rigorous training provided entry-level service workers in the Casual Fine Dining sector. What happens more often is that dreadful attitude that can overwhelm a night of joyful cooking. Fortunately, those servers typically go back to their careers in forensic accounting shortly thereafter. That's what happened at a memorable lunch at Le Cirque 2000; paved with parvenus it was surely one of the most pretentiously staffed rooms in Christendom. And then there are the rooms that serve shockingly good food but whose food safety practices are, uhh, non-existent.

A crappy wine list obviously isn't good, but what about no wine list? I've eaten at plenty of good Chinese restaurants with no wine list at all, and I figure you have, too. So is your basic philosophy that a restaurant should either present a good wine list or none at all? ← No, my philosophy is that restaurants should sell beverages that complement their food. Thankfully, in the (considerable) universe of Vancouver's Chinese dining scene, there has been a considered evolution in wine pairing. Some restaurants have hired consultants to match dishes; others have put together more proforma agents' lists. But your point is well made; some Chinese restaurants have lethargic lists and occasionally, as you say, none at all.

Will you talk about the Gunther Seeger experience? He is a local chef of great accomplishment and his press is uniformly high. His restaurant here is always among the Top Five ... ← Melissa, A couple of summers ago I journeyed to Paris with a number of North American chefs for the convocation of the Relais Gourmands. Quite good field trip, actually. The North American chefs feted the Euros the first night, cooking an elevated form of American kitchen food (mac and cheese etc.) that caused some controversy. There were 170 Michelin stars in one room that night. I have many of their trading cards. Then the North Americans fanned out across the France, Spain and Italy to guest chef. We attended one such dinner with Mr. Seeger at Au Crocodile in Strasbourg. The owner/chef, Emile Jung, who had just lost his third star and whose wife had become ill as a result, gave an impassioned speech; his central theme was that the preceding night's dinner was ample evidence that "American chefs have no fundamental grasp of their terroir, of traditions, and essentially, of flavour. It was only later that he discovered that--being good little Canadians--we spoke French. Gunter's meal redeemed the night however. The next night, our Relais delegate from Vancouver, Rob Feenie, cooked with Chef Klein at L'Arnsbourg in rural Alsace. Stunning. The French media in attendance were a little disbelieving; perhaps they hailed from the same school of analysis as Jung.

Not yet. I've had near perfect experiences though, sometimes when my expectations weren't that high going in. One was at Au Crocodile in Strasbourg, with Gunther Seeger of Atlanta guest-chefing alternate courses.

Hey Jack, This just in . . . British Columbia Wine Institute Media Release December 9, 2005 – FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Cold snap in Okanagan kicks off Icewine harvest Okanagan winemakers and grapegrowers are short on sleep this week. Cold temperatures throughout the region gave winemakers and grapegrowers the opportunity they needed to harvest their Icewine grapes. Because Vintners Quality Alliance (VQA) standards require that those grapes are picked and crushed at -8 °C or lower, most Icewine grapes are picked in the middle of the night when the mercury dips to its lowest point. The British Columbia Wine Institute (BCWI) administers the VQA standard, and wineries are required to call a special BCWI telephone line to report which vineyards were harvested, the temperature at harvest time, the grape varietal, and an estimate of how much was harvested. It’s typical for calls to be received at 4 a.m, which means sleepless nights and chilly fingers for pickers. This week, fifteen wineries called in to report Icewine harvests in vineyards from Kelowna down to Oliver. Varietals harvested were ehrenfelser, riesling, pinot blanc, pinot noir, merlot, cabernet franc, traminer, muscat, verdelet, gewürztraminer, and kerner. An estimated total of 212.5 short tons were picked and crushed. “The harvest seems to be over for this week because temperatures have risen slightly, but some wineries still have grapes on the vine, so more grapes will be picked if and when it gets cold enough again this winter,” said BCWI communications manager Jeff McDonald. “Winemakers and grapegrowers are very positive about the quality, and we’re looking forward to an excellent Icewine vintage for 2005.” Wineries reporting included Andres Wines, Blossom Winery, Calona Wines, Fairview Cellars, Gehringer Brothers, Hainle Vineyards, Hawthorne Mountain, House of Rose, Jackson-Triggs Okanagan, Mission Hill, Nk’Mip Cellars, Paradise Ranch, Sumac Ridge, Tantalus Vineyards, and Tinhorn Creek.

Like orgasms in a nunnery, Andy. You know they're goin' on, it's just hard to put your finger on it. But we're almost positive that some Canadian males bake - but just try to find them! Hell, there are probably Canucks who moisturize too. Equally elusive. So I can only give you a strong maybe on this one. Here's the slightly longer answer: [P.S. - That was a breakfast steak.] Excerpted from Great Chefs Cook at Barbara-jo’s by Jamie Maw Friends of the shop: Jamie Maw, Murray McMillan, Glenys Morgan Featured Book: The New Food Lover’s Companion (Barron’s) Barbara-jo's Books to Cooks is the culinary crossroads of British Columbia. Visiting chefs, cookbook authors and food writers demo from their books frequently, and lesser plebs like me are sometimes invited along to . . . Barbara-jo McIntosh: Every so often I like to use creative licence and throw a unique event to promote a book that I admire. When Sharon Tyler Herbst published a third edition of the highly popular Food Lover’s Companion, I decided my only option was to host an evening of Jeopardy! – and position myself as the Alex Trebek of food trivia – with a wee gaggly of well-known food personalities. I asked Jamie Maw, food and travel writer, to write a few words about his recollections of the evening and, as you see, he has not left much for me to say: “How about asking more boy questions,” I shouted politely at Barbara-jo McIntosh. I was turning crimson, by degrees Fahrenheit, then Celsius. Barbara-jo’s is not a place that I associate with the Inquisition. But that’s precisely what I was getting that night, in gallons, cups and pecks – and then their metric equivalents. And the only humour that I could mobilize to rescue my deepening humiliation was, necessarily, of the deeply self-deprecating kind. Several months before, I had signed on to participate in a sort of culinary Olympiad. The format: Answer – and answer quickly – any and all questions based on our study of the Barron’s Food Lovers Companion, a seven-hundred-page brick thick with food, wine and culinary definitions. In fact any definition, from the more than four thousand in the book, was up for grabs. And my competitors were hardly flyweights: Murray McMillan, the well-travelled (and well fed) food editor of The Vancouver Sun, and Glenys Morgan. Glenys owned a leading cookshop, cooked professionally for many years and then, most famously, trained hundreds of chefly aspirants at the Dubrulle School of Culinary Arts and Deep Tissue Massage. Even worse, all of this was in front of a paying crowd, many eager to see one or more of us self-flambé. As a serial procrastinator, during a trip to Acapulco (on assignment, of course) that immediately preceded the competition, I had put any reflection on the now loathsome Barron’s off completely. Or almost. Like reading War and Peace, I was still stuck in the first chapter, or in this case, the “A’s” – trying to assimilate asafoetida [ah-sah-feh-the-dah], “a flavoring obtained from a giant fennel-like plant that grows mainly in Iran and India…,” and atemoya [a-teh-moh-ee-yah], “though it’s cultivated in Florida, this cross between CHERIMOYA and SWEETSOP is a native of South America and the West Indies. About the size of a large sweet BELL PEPPER, the atemoya has tough dusty green skin…” In short, my modest brain, now addled into prune whip by Mexican heat and humidity, was not up to the job. I very nearly sent Barbara-jo an urgent missive, but no – I swore to myself – I’d get cracking on the flight home. And I did, making it clear into the “B’s” before breaking for a snooze somewhere over Manzanillo. “Question one,” began out Inquisitor, Barbara-jo McIntosh, herself no slouch at this sort of thing, but tonight looking much more headmistress than bookshop proprietor. “What is asafoetida” I rang my bell instantly, barely beating out Glenys. “Though it’s cultivated in Florida, this cross between…” I began. “Wrong,” said Headmistress McIntosh. “Glenys, would you like to correct our tanned friend?” And so it went. Murray and I split pretty evenly on male-friendly words like banger, hardtack, poutine, groundnut and yabbie. But Glenys grabbed everything else: corn salad, conchiglie, dragee, tzimmes and zuccotto. And many more. By the end of round one, Glenys had easily doubled Murray’s and my collective score. Then it got much worse: We broke into a lengthy series of baking questions. Baking questions! My baking repertoire is limited to Irish soda bread. For my annual apple pie I follow the pastry recipe on the back of the shortening box. And that’s when I measure at all. “What is the acceptable substitution for one of cup of sifted, self-raising flour?” the headmistress barked. “One cup sifted all purpose flour plus 1½ teaspoons baking powder and 1/8 teaspoon salt,” Glenys promptly answered. “What is the volume of an 8” x 8” x 2” square pan?” Eight cups, as it turns out. Of course, Glenys knew that too. That’s when I rudely demanded that Headmistress McIntosh ask some more boy questions. But it was not to be. Instead, definitions and preparatory techniques for burdock, granadilla, kibbeh, ugli fruit (Murray and I worked that one to death, but were both wrong), varak (we had clearly moved beyond the B’s now), and wakame and lassi (“A leading brand of American dog food?” I volunteered), followed faster than the 101st Airborne going downtown. Needless to say, Murray and I were largely blanked, only responding to male-sensitive questions such as infusion, offal and roux. “Proper noun or not?” I enquired about roux, hoping for a bonus point for naming the founders of Le Gavroche and The Water Side Inn. “Not,” replied the headmistress. One point only for the application of heat to butter and flour – a gimme. But by now, it was more rue than roux for Murray and me. Just to make sure, the headmistress consulted the chief scorekeeper (Adrienne O’Callaghan, who measures when she bakes) at unnecessarily short intervals. By now, Glenys’s score threatened to triple our aggregate. One final chance for redemption. “What is Spam, and part two – where in the world is it most consumed?” the headmistress demanded. I rang my bell furiously. Finally. I know quite a lot about pork products and even have a Spam snow dome on my desk. “Spam is a prepared pork product manufactured by the Hormel Corporation that chiefly informs the diet of the state of Hawaii,” I fairly screamed. “It is occasionally used in sculpture competitions,” I added. Two points, too late. The event was over, the humiliation final and brutish. I could barely choke down my thoroughly chilled beverage. To this day I feel little affection for asafoetida. I congratulated Glenys thoroughly on the new automobile she won, and she congratulated us for being such great sports. Our prizes were brand new copies of Barron’s Food Lover’s Companion. I’ll use mine to keep the back door open on breezy days. When I’m cooling down my annual apple pie. After escaping the amazingly sympathetic crowd, I asked Headmistress McIntosh how the questions could have been so transparently one-sided – so, well, girly. “Couldn’t you have balanced things by asking for stuff like spice rubs of leading steakhouses of the U.S. Midwest, pickled herring, vindaloo and the best places to eat barbecue in Kansas City?” I asked. “And you know I don’t measure,” I said. “It’s never too late to start,” the headmistress said firmly, and with the absolute conviction of those who do.

It makes me feel like I'm eating in a prison. Or a commisary. I want to say to the server, "Yes, I really am staying for dinner." I love bread and it's also an excellent telltale as to the chef's eye for important detail.

It's been a very hectic week from a business perspective and I'm looking forward to the chance to respond to more of your questions, including Andy's. He wondered if Canadian men took up baking (along with moisturizing) during the hockey strike. And I'll lead you to the Kelowna restaurant thread. And many thanks to you all for your warm words of encouragement - I very much appreciate them. Please keep your questions coming. Back in a while . . . Jamie