cold days & long nights
soup & stew, breakfast for dinner, and a holiday cookie recipe
Hi friends. Hope you’re staying healthy and coping with the stresses of this month all right, or else wishing you a speedy recovery and peaceful times to come if you aren’t. Unfortunately our nice time out last Friday for Iain’s final night in town, barbecue and beers at Patina in Port Coquitlam, has been tainted by the fact that half the attendees have since tested positive for covid. And I mean literally half— everyone sitting on the side of the table facing the restaurant got sick, and everyone on the side facing the kitchen did not, due to the nature of certain viruses and the cruel hand of fate (I was on the non-cursed side). However, at one point during the evening four of us did laugh ourselves into hysterics because I somehow knocked my glasses off my face directly into my plate of beans, and no illness can take that moment away from us. (The beans are very good, by the way.)
I’ll be taking the next two weeks off from writing to prepare for the holidays and hopefully find some time to relax. I’ve shared a holiday cookie recipe the past two years with my final newsletter of the year, and I will again this year at the end of this newsletter (I’ll also link to the previous two if you’d like to make either of those, and as always, you can find all my recipes in the index here). And if you’ve still got a few gifts left to buy, you might find a couple of ideas in my gift guide, in case you missed it at the beginning of this month. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday if you’re celebrating, and I’ll see you in the new year!
It’s been hard to feel enthusiastic about cooking, these days: I get so lethargic close to the solstice, especially when I’m working as much as I have been lately. All the things I’m excited about making when I’m grocery shopping or browsing recipes on the weekend— when I have spare time and a little bit of energy— seem to drift away from me when the week begins again. I keep finding myself looking into the abandoned bits of produce in my fridge drawers and sighing with guilt.
I impulse bought some eggplant off the dollar rack last week, forgot about it, and then hastily roasted it on the weekend before it went bad. Then I threw it in the fridge and again made it a problem for future me. Thankfully I found an eggplant and puy (French) lentil stew recipe in an Ottolenghi book that I didn’t end up following because I didn’t have all the ingredients, but it was a great inspiration. I used a couple of ribs of celery and some carrots chopped up with onion for aromatics, then added garlic, tomato paste, smoked paprika, ground coriander, and thyme. I chose faux beef broth for maximum winter stew vibes but vegetable or chicken would be good too.
The eggplant broke down a bit while the lentils cooked and it turned out to be a really nice hearty, comforting dish for a rainy night. I loved the smokiness of the paprika, and serving it with a bit of sour cream and chili crisp on top took it to the next level. I regret not having some bread to eat with it, but you can’t win every battle.
Last week, my friend Emily recommended this recipe for mushroom soup with pearl couscous, and I remembered I had a browser tab open with the recipe this week while Jeff was back on the Island for work. I moved the cutting board to the opposite side of the kitchen so I could watch trash television while prepping the vegetables, which is one way I motivate myself to cook when I’m the only one home— and particularly at this time of year, where the fact that 16 out of 24 hours are now night has me wanting nothing more than to sit under a blanket on the couch where I subsist only on chips and hot mugs of tea.
Emily said she’d added a parmesan rind to the broth as the couscous cooked, which is almost always a good idea to punch up the flavour profile of certain soups— I also like this trick for minestrone or tomato/white bean. The herb amounts listed in the recipe are pretty paltry, so bring those up too (rosemary is a good addition). I halved this since I was only cooking for myself, and it made enough for dinner and a couple of work lunches. I used oat milk in place of the cream, but I think I would have liked coconut milk better; I just didn’t want to open a can for only ¼ cup. Texturally this was really nice, with lightly sautéed mushroom slices and big, satisfying couscous pearls. My favourite mushroom soup is probably still the Hungarian mushroom, but this was lovely and equally easy to make, and although it was good on day one, it was even more delicious on day two.
In further mushroom endeavours, I also had some shiitakes, and revisited this delicious noodle bowl with crumbled tofu, quick pickles, and chili crisp. It does make a mess of dishes, but doesn’t take long to make and it is so, so satisfying. I usually make the full amount of sauce even though I halve everything else in the recipe, because I like to sit in the lap of luxury, all right?
I bought a napa cabbage thinking I’d make hot & sour soup with it, forgetting I’d used up my brick of tofu in the above stir fry. Since Jeff was still away and I wasn’t feeling super creative, I made a bastardized okonomiyaki omelette type thing, using a potato, some carrot, and some of the cabbage (shredded in the food processor) in a batter with egg and flour, and a little fish sauce for flavour. It wasn’t super crispy like okonomiyaki because I used more egg, but it was a very tasty and fast breakfast-for-dinner situation that I would definitely make again. And since this only used up a fraction of the cabbage, I may just have to.
Also this week Jeff made puttanesca, because we had a bunch of tomatoes that were getting soft and I didn’t feel like cooking. I realised when he asked me where my recipe was that I make it by feel now because I’ve done it so frequently— I really don’t look at a recipe. So I gave him a book that had one in it, but kept coming into the kitchen to say things like “Oh, but I use more capers than this does. No, why would you weigh the olives, just eyeball it, it’s like a quarter cup of each type. Oh, and I just use anchovy paste instead of chopping the whole ones most of the time. No, I don’t know how much, I just put it in the pan until it looks right.” I had to laugh; a lot of what I learned about cooking intuitively I learned from Jeff, and now often he’s the one who’ll default to doing exactly what the recipe says.
Jeff got this zimtsterne (cinnamon star cookie) recipe from his mom’s partner, who is also Swiss. They’re a little fussier than most of the baking I make at Christmas because of the whipping of the egg whites and the rest time after rolling out and cutting the dough, but they’re very festive looking and only use a few ingredients. I don’t think this recipe can be veganized due to its heavy reliance on eggs for structure, but it is gluten- and dairy-free by default. These make a delightfully spiced cookie with a wonderful texture.
ZIMTSTERNE
3 large egg whites
450g powdered sugar, plus more for rolling
1½ tbsp cinnamon
500g almond flour (blanched or not, both work fine)
Beat the egg whites in a stand mixer on high for 1-2 minutes, until fluffy. With the mixer running, slowly add the sugar in several batches, allowing it to incorporate as you go before adding the next batch. Once all the sugar is incorporated, continue mixing on high until soft peaks form. Set aside ½ to 2/3 cup of the meringue for glazing. Jeff often runs out and will sometimes make extra meringue for this purpose using another egg white and 80g powdered sugar.
While the meringue is mixing, combine the cinnamon and the almond flour in a large bowl. Fold in the meringue when it’s ready, and gently knead together into a ball. Let rest for 30 minutes, and if it’s having trouble holding together at that point, add splashes of water until it does.
Dust your work surface lightly with more powdered sugar, and roll the dough out in batches to ¾cm thickness. Use a cookie cutter (star shape is traditional!) to shape cookies, and arrange on parchment-lined (or greased and floured) baking sheets. Keep the cookies fairly close together, as they will not spread during baking and you don’t want the edges overdone. Glaze using the reserved meringue and a pastry brush or the back of a spoon, and let dry for several hours or overnight.
Heat the oven to 300°F, and bake the cookies in the centre of the oven for 20-30 minutes, rotating at the halfway mark. The glaze should be very lightly browned on top, and it’s okay if the cookies seem a bit underdone in the centre, as long as they hold together— they will firm up as they cool.
2020’s recipe: lavender snickerdoodles
2021’s recipe: ginger molasses cookies
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so donations I can use towards cookbooks or future treats are much appreciated. Lastly, here is a tweet that nicely sums up the reason this newsletter exists.