carswell

Just remembered a tasty, vegetarian-friendly grilled sandwich published in the Globe and Mail a few years back. It appears that's not the only place, as Googling the title turns up several hits. Here for example: Grilled Portobello Mushroom Sandwiches with Sun-Dried Tomato and Goat Cheese Spread.

Charcoal-Grilled Vegetables: a Primer.

It'd be redundant since a casserole in French is just a round, usually metal pot with a handle (e.g. a large saucepan, sauté pan or dutch oven), not a baking dish.

Great minds think alike, &c. I'd wondered about that, too, especially as the recipe's title refers to candied lemon. On the other hand, the peel is blanched twice and then cooked another 20 minutes, so it wouldn't be exactly picture-perfect at the end. And it would have performed at least one role: adding another layer of flavour. wyf4lyf's reply should clue us in.

5cl miel de fluers (this is flower honey, right?) Yes, though since most if not all honey is flower honey he may mean wildflower honey. 30cl fond de veau (veal stock?) Yep. 3gr fleur de thym frais (does this really mean thyme flowers, or will fresh thyme leaves be OK?) Could be either, though thyme flowers are in vogue these days. If he meant flowers, he should have written fleurs. Fleur in the singular can mean fine or best, as in fleur de farine and fleur de sel; I don't recall ever seeing it used that way with herbs, however. Any chance he could have written feuilles (leaves)? Sel -- poivre -- coriandre "graine" (I'm assuming this means coriander powder?) Literally it means seeds. Unclear whether he's using the term to distinguish whole-grain from ground or dried (and presumably ground) from fresh (cilantro). edit: Mallet's right. I'd misread and thought the coriander was added before the reduction but it's added only at the end, along with the salt and pepper, which almost assuredly means it's the dried and ground variety. 1. Citron --> peler..laver..couper en juilienne..blanchiz 2 fois --> reserver (blanch twice???) Yep. 2. Dans une casserol "Torrifiu"(**) cuire a sec le thyme 4 mn It's a stretch, but could the mystery word be T-fal, i.e. the brand name widely used as a generic for non-stick? Anyway, I wouldn't sweat it. agouter le miel et le citron reduire de moitie "spiritueux" (**) Reduce by half. I'm going with syrupy. anuisonner (**) a votre gout sel-poivre et coriandre Season to taste: assaisonner a l'envoie au chenage. Still stumped, though I bet the a is actually et (and). Second thought: could it be au chinois (an extremely fine cone-shaped strainer)? Was the sauce strained? When it says "reduire 1/3", is that to reduce by 1/3 or TO 1/3 of the amount? By a third. And it's a bit unclear when to add the julienne of lemon peel. I'm inclined to add it along with the lemon juice, but let me know what you think. Reduce the lemon juice and honey by half. Add the zest and cook 3 minutes. Add the wine and cook 5 minutes. Add the veal stock and cook 15 minutes, until reduced by a third.

Mallet's right. We need context. What kind of dish is the recipe for? If you can't scan the recipe, can you at least provide the sentence or paragraph in which each term occurs? 1. Chantal's line of thinking is interesting, except that torréfier means roast in the sense that coffee, grains and tobacco are roasted (i.e. "toasted" would almost be a better translation). I don't recall ever seeing the term used in a recipe. My first hypothesis was that it was a brand name or a regional name (the terminal u is vaguely Corsican), but Goggling your various decypherings turns up nada. Other thoughts: could it possibly be terrine (rectangular pan in which pâtés and terrines are prepared) or terre cuite (fired clay)? 2. Reduce by half sounds good but I'm confused by the spiritueux, which probably wouldn't be used to describe wine anyway. Could it be sirupeux (syrupy)? 3. Chenage has me, er, stumped. If it had something to do with oak, the first e would be wearing a circumflex.

Do you mean a bread bakery or a pastry shop?

This just in. The latest flyer from the SAQ Signature store is announcing another "10% off all purchases of $100 and over" sale this Thursday through Sunday, July 28-31. In the past, these sales have been system-wide and I expect this one will be too, though there's currently no mention of it on www.saq.com. edit: As suspected, the sale is system-wide.

Answers to your query will vary from province to province. As a rule, I rarely find prices in the States to be significantly cheaper than here, so I tend to bring back wines that I can't get at the SAQ or LCBO. Recent "suitcase imports" include Renardat-Fache's Cerdon de Bugey, Ogier's Côte-Rôtie, Punt e Mes and Ridge's Pagani Ranch zin. The problem is that you're effectively limited to bringing back two or three bottles per adult per visit, above which abusive duty is charged (see here for one particularly harrowing story).

According to the product's website, Private Preserve is a mixture of inert gasses (apparently including nitrogen). As the gasses are inert and heavier than air, how can they become ineffective quickly? Blind trials in my own home have shown Private Preserve to be the most effective system; wines (of any colour) stored up to three weeks in the fridge under gas have not suffered in the slightest. (Note that I typically transfer the wine to an approriately sized screwcapped bottle before gassing it.) Freezing comes in second place, the main problem being its tendancy to cause some red wines to throw a deposit. VacuVin comes a distant third and then only for short-term storage (less than 24 hours). It's worth noting that many of the best wine bars also favour inert gas.

Sami. Were these sour cherries or bings?

Here's a cool-season favourite of mine: Eden's Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Caramelized Shallots and Crispy Kale. Very popular with kids, too. Roasting kale gives it a texture a bit like deep-friend spinach.

Well, that sounds like the same brand that I know ...and neither of us can find the name! ← Yang Jiang Preserved Beans with Ginger? (There are other brands but this is the one I usually find in Montreal's Chinese stores.)

Craig Camp is right about the gasket. It could be poorly seated or old and inflexible. Also, when you fill the bottom half of the pot, make sure the water doesn't cover the pressure relief valve. And don't grind the coffee too fine, overfill the basket or tamp the grounds.

Yep. And so's Les Chèvres, Les Caprices de Nicolas, Laloux, Le Pégasse, Milos (I think; they stupidly don't list their hours on their website), Ferreira (ditto), Cube, Cocaigne, Continental and Guy et Dodo, etc., not to mention L'Académie <weak attempt at sick humour>. I just limited myself to two classic bistros that I often visit on Sundays and Mondays. Yep. Excuse my brain fart. Thanks for the correction.

Heads up, Chantal. Just back from Exofruits on Côte-des-Neiges where they had baskets of just-off-the-truck first-of-the-season Ontario sour cherries and peaches. The cherries were $3.99/lb and much redder than usual. If a green grocer has them, the farmers' markets probably do too. And it looks like the weather will moderate on the weekend, meaning it won't be insane to turn on the oven. Clafoutis, anyone?

Don't forget the nifty Google calculator. Just go to the Google search page and enter the variables in the following format (sans brackets): <what you want to convert> in <unit you want to convert into> For example (click for results): half cup in teaspoons 2.4 kg in pounds 9 inches in cm 200 degrees celsius in fahrenheit Not that it's perfect. It won't tell you how many tablespoons there are in a stick of butter. Yet.

Couldn't that also be considered a Bellini variant?

Nope. Is the Cambon a private import? Haven't tasted any 2004 Bojos yet but it's supposed to be a classically styled vintage. Maybe I was a little harsh re the Brun. The TNs were from memory and I was disappointed at the showing of a wine I normally love. That said, a French friend has since reported that the Gault et Millaut guide, also normally a Brun fan, found the wine to be totalement raté (i.e. Brun blew it). Another eGer has written that he found the Poncié "thin and empty," though, which is about 180º from my take on it, so go figure. Should also mention that the Clos de la Briderie is not only gamay. Though that variety dominates, the wine also contains some cabernet franc and cot (the Loire's name for malbec).

I didn't see any earlier today on a lightning run through the place. Will let you know if/when I do. (Beautiful raspberries were very much in evidence, however.) There were a couple of interesting new additions to the extension: - Philippe de Vienne (of Olives et Épices) has opened another store — this one between Havre aux Glaces and Les Délices de la mer — called La Dépense. Mainly condiments, many of them ethnic (Chinese, Mexican, etc.). - A tortilla maker has set up shop in a stall facing Olives et épices. Didn't get a chance to taste her wares but the griddle looked absolutely authentic. Was in a rush because I'd just picked up some ice cream from Havre aux glaces and wanted to get it into my freezer asap. Unfortunately, it wasn't their newest flavour, the sold-out ginger-rhubarb sorbet. But I did get a chance to taste the nougat ice cream on Bastille Day and it was a knockout.

Dropped by the newly opened Caffe Art Java on the north side of Mont Royal Blvd., four or five blocks east of the metro station, yesterday. Sorry to say it's not really an espresso bar. Although there's a small counter for adulterating takeout orders, no provision has been made for ordering an espresso for immediate consumption while standing. You place and pay for your order, take a number in a plastic holder and sit at one of the tables, where they bring the order to you. Much attention has been lavished on the decor: two levels with seating arranged to maximize opportunites for watching the to-and-froing on the boulevard; folding French doors at the front open to the street; clean, modern decoration; designer chairs; high-definition plasma screens running a latte art instructional video. The main counter is in back. The first thing you see is a refrigerator case packed with sandwiches, wraps, pastries and desserts. Behind that is the order station, a couple of grinders and a drop-dead gorgeous La Marzocco machine (I'm guessing a four grouper, though I didn't get a barista's eye view) outfitted with "naked" (spoutless) portafilters — a Montreal first as far as I know. I began with a double espresso at a pricey $2.40. It arrived promptly in a properly heated cup. The crema was as thick as I've ever encountered; the texture exceptional; the flavour rich, layered, beautifully complex — "browner" tasting and less intense than Café Italia's but, flavourwise, probably the best I've encountered in Montreal. The only sour note was a slightly sour note, the kind you get when the machine is a bit under temp. I didn't see them make the shot so I don't know if they ran water through the group before pulling it. If they didn't, they should have because the machine wasn't seeing much use on a oppressively muggy afternoon. The beans, ground fresh for each order, are the Leftist Blend from Gimme! Coffee in Ithica, NY. You can also buy them to take home. Sandwiches (on baguette) and wraps run $9-11. My sandwhich — roast chicken breast with avocado and pesto — was good, though light on the pesto. It was served with chilled fresh asapragus and a cherry tomato and onion salad jarringly garnished with pistachios. Other sandwiches featured lamb; duck confit; prosciutto and parm; beef and blue cheeese; and, I believe, a veggie option. Service was pleasant if slightly confused: when ordering, I'd stated that I wanted to start with the espresso, then have the sandwhich with a bottle of mineral water. They brought the mineral water first, so I sent it back; then they forgot to bring it with the sandwich. I'd intended to order a latte after finishing the sandwich to see if they lived up to their name. But by then the heat and humidity made the thought of a large hot milk-based drink unappealing. The lattes served to the table in front of me looked liked they'd come out of the latte-art porn video: perfect microfoam and photo-worthy rosettes. Even on the basis of a single visit, I feel confident in saying that Caffe Art Java is one of the city's premier coffee houses. And if they can get their machine up to temp, they may well take the crown.

A couple of Provençal dishes are perennial favourites around here. While they're traditionally made with beef, they also work with lamb. Tian de boeuf: Combine lots of sliced mushrooms with fresh bread crumbs and chopped garlic, shallots and parsley. Season with salt and pepper. Spread half the mixture over the bottom of a baking dish. Place slices of beef over that. Top with the rest of the mushroom mixture. Moisten with white wine. Sprinkle with some more bread crumbs. Drizzle with olive oil. Bake in a moderate oven for 30 minutes. Boeuf miroton is similar but the mushroom mixture is replaced by a thick sauce of sautéed onion and garlic and tomatoes seasoned with a dash of vinegar, bay, nutmeg and salt and pepper. Layer sauce, then beef, then capers, then sauce, then bread crumbs. Drizzle with olive oil and bake.

My understanding is that the definition is fairly strict: fruits or plant parts (including flowers) soaked in brandy or other spirits with sugar syrup. Can't let this thread go by without mentioning a Kir variant invented a couple of years ago by an e-friend, Jenise Stone, who had just acquired her first jar of that Swedish staple, lignonberry preserves. To a flute of bubbly, she added a small dollop of the runny preserves, which sank to the bottom and flavoured the wine with increasing intensity as one drained the glass. And thus was born the Lars Royale. Taking her idea and running with it, I've since replaced the preserves with the lignonberry syrup sold at the IKEA food shops. Now that Aligotés are no longer cheap, I look elsewhere for sharp whites for making still Kirs: the Loire (e.g. Muscadet, Cours-Cheverny), Switzerland (Fendant) and Austria (really low-end gruner veltliner).

Your recipe sounds fine, though I'd recommend a couple of changes. Start by browning the rabbit over medium heat (the lack of skin means high heat tends to make the surface of the meat dry and stringy), removing the pieces as they brown. When finished, throw out all but a tablespoon or two of the fat, then soften and, if desired, brown the onion and garlic in what remains. Add the rabbit, seasonings and white wine to the pot. Let the wine bubble a minute, then cover the pot and turn down the heat to very low; you want the gentlest of simmers. Cook 30-40 minutes turning the meat 2 or 3 times. You could also omit the onion and simply use a couple of smushed garlic cloves to add savour. In that case, discard them at the end, remove the rabbit to a platter, add a few tablespoons of cold water to the pan, turn the heat to high and stir and scrape until the sauce is emulsified and syrupy. Pour over the rabbit and serve. Other variations I like: replace the rosemary with sage; replace some or all of the white wine with lemon juice. Have never heard of boning for sautés and fricassees, by the way.

Last Thursday saw the SAQ's latest "new arrivals" release, this one devoted exclusively to 2003 Beaujolais. (The complete list can be found on www.saq.com by clicking the "Nouveaux arrivages" button.) Since the quantities involved are limited, I made a point of tasting three wines I thought might be good bets. As you may recall from news reports, 2003 was an exceptionally hot and dry summer that presented challenges to winemakers across Europe. In Beaujolais, the harvest began in mid-August, a month earlier than usual. In fact, only two other vintages were as precocious: 1822 and 1555. Some producers and many retailers (including the SAQ) have trumpted the vintage as the best in half a century. Others, mainly lovers of classic Beaujolais, have declared it a disaster. The three wines I tasted have me leaning toward the latter camp. Jean-Paul Brun may be known for using a minimalist approach to make supple, minerally red Bojos (not to mention delicious chardonnays that represent some of the best QPR in French whitedom) but you'd never suspect it if all you had to go on was the 2003 L'Ancien, Terres Dorées ($17.90). The pleasant red fruit on the nose and attack hardly begins to compensate for the dilute yet harsh mid-palate, non-existent finish and shallow flavour (narry a mineral in sight). Avoid. While Jadot's 2003 Fleurie from Château de Poncié ($28.05) is darker to the eye and much denser and rounder on the palate, it shares L'Ancien's lack of depth and short finish and shows none of the silky texture or fresh flavour that are the hallmarks of the appellation. Forget minerals; this wine is all about fruit and there's no escaping the impression that some of it's stewed. Since old vines with their deeper roots are said to have coped better with 2003's heat and drought, I'd asked my SAQ outlet to set aside a bottle of the Brouilly Château de Pierreux Reserve ($28.25), which is made from old-vine (minimum 40 years) grapes. Only when I got home did I notice they'd given me the Château de Pierreux tout court ($25.60). Like the Poncié, this is a heavy, one-dimensional, all-fruit-all-the-time Beaujolais. Here the fruit isn't stewed so much as candied, like the cherries used in fruitcakes. While the Poncié and Pierreux are drinkable, they also run more than $25 a bottle. Hard to justify forking that over when there are still some excellent 2001 and 2002 Bojos around. And if you're desperate for some good gamay juice from 2003, look to the Loire. For example, Clos de la Briderie's 2003 Touraine Mesland Vieilles vignes can be had for under $18 a bottle: like the Bojos, atypically rich; unlike them, a joy to drink.