dine in & out
homemade broth satisfaction, meaty mushrooms, and dinners away from home
Last week in the middle of a busy workday, I got a text from Malloreigh asking if I’d like to join them for a DineOut reservation when one of the other guests had to cancel. I gave the text a cursory read before saying I would love to, and then last Thursday evening, confidently walked from the seabus and texted that I’d arrived… at the wrong restaurant. Luckily, the correct one was only fifteen minutes of power-walking away, and our kind server assured me I was not the first person to mix up “Nightshade” with “Nightingale”.
Anyway, since there were three of us, and three DineOut options for both the starters and the mains, we ordered one of each and enjoyed them all greatly. I had to look up the menu afterwards to see what I was eating, because I was enjoying myself in conversation too much to really pay attention to what they were when they were set down at the table. All the starters were delightful, but my favourite was the potato croquettes, and the eggplant and maitake rendang with coconut black rice was the star of the main dishes. I also loved my cocktail— a bittersweet thing that arrives with smoke held in the glass under a wooden lid— so much so that I ordered a second one. (They also have an impressive non-alcoholic cocktail list.) Oh, and the entire restaurant is vegan.
I saw Malloreigh again on Sunday, because Jeff and I had already been invited weeks earlier to dinner at her place that night. Beforehand we met up at Robyn’s hockey game at 8 Rinks, treating ourselves to mediocre draft beer and very good seasoned fries at the pub up above the rinks, where we could watch the game without freezing down by the ice.
At the apartment, we all had a hand in putting together a Thai-inspired garlicky rice noodle dish with green beans and vegan ground round, and shared a bottle of chardonnay from Fort Berens. After the meal we finished our glasses of wine over several rounds of Boggle, breaking a bar of chocolate into pieces in the middle of the table between us. Any meal shared with friends is a joy, but it’s extra special to be hosted in someone’s home.
While doing some rearranging in the deep freeze, we discovered two freezer bags full of chicken bones which I’d forgotten about, so Saturday afternoon was dedicated to making a big pot of broth. The bones were mostly things that would have otherwise been composted: leftovers after a roast, wing tips, and so on. Making broth is a bit of a production: a huge witch’s cauldron of bones and aromatics simmering for hours (1 at minimum, 2-3 even better), then strained through a colander to remove the solids, then poured again through a fine-mesh strainer to remove anything smaller. But it’s largely hands-off, makes the house smell amazing, and I love being able to make something great out of, essentially, waste.
For dinner that night I instinctively made a pot of chicken noodle soup by poaching a few boneless chicken thighs in some of the broth and shredding them (and certainly not burning my fingers on them doing so while they were still too hot). Then I sautéed a mix of onions and carrots with garlic, thyme and tarragon, and a big dash of Old Bay (the secret ingredient). I also prefer to use cappellini spezzati, a small Italian pasta, rather than egg noodles, since they don’t seem to drink up all the broth as readily. That way the soup holds up a little better as leftovers in the fridge or freezer. A big handful each of frozen peas and/or corn finish this off. I used about a quart and a half of broth and a pound of meat for the soup, leaving me with another two and a half quarts of broth for another time.
Jeff accidentally bought more chicken than was needed for the soup, and having fresh meat in the fridge isn’t something usual for our house. So it always feels a bit like an alarm clock waiting to go off, or one of those timed puzzles in a Legend of Zelda game, until I’m able to use it before it’s past its prime and I can finally relax. Anyway, Monday, inspired by the rendang we had at Nightshade, I chopped it up for a Thai yellow curry with potatoes and a couple of other vegetables. I like the Thai curry pastes because they impart a lot of flavour really quickly, so it’s great for a weeknight dinner when you don’t have the time or desire to let something simmer for ages. I served it with some black rice we’d bought from Bulk Barn but had been too intimidated to cook thus far.
I’d found conflicting information on whether you can cook black rice in a rice cooker, which is the only way I confidently make rice. I saw multiple responses saying no, don’t do it, the texture will be weird, and an equal number of responses saying yes, it’s fine, rinse it and use the brown rice setting. I did so, rinsing the rice twice before starting the cooker (the water was impressively black), but it did come out a bit more oatmeal-like, softer and stickier than I’d hoped for. The flavour was still good, and being that it was hidden under plenty of delicious coconut curry, I wasn’t too upset about it. I might try cooking rice on the stove for the first time in fifteen years next time I make it, though. Here’s hoping that doesn’t prove too psychically damaging.
I’ve been craving really meaty mushrooms lately, and picked up a couple of portobello mushrooms to make the roasted mushroom shawarma again. This is super flavourful and comes together easily in about half an hour. I like to mix the seasonings into the oil in a bowl and toss the mushrooms & onions in it, rather than trying to evenly drizzle oil and sprinkle spices over them in a sheet pan, but if you really hate having an extra dish to wash you could do it like it is in the recipe. I also don’t think the smoked paprika is optional— it’s very necessary! The turmeric yogurt is nice with a bit of garlic and salt added, and if I have hummus around, I’ll throw some of that on the pita as well.
Personally I think this is in need of something pickled, so I tend to use pickled red cabbage which I usually make and keep in a jar in the fridge, and a little hot sauce is another great addition to make it feel a little more like the donairs you’d get at a shop. And please fold it up like a normal person, don’t eat it with a knife and fork like the person who wrote the recipe, unless you like suffering.
Also this week, I made even more cheesy baked beans! They’re always delicious and there are plenty of different things you can do with them— these are made with black beans, a little smoky, a little spicy (at least, they are if you add way more chilies than the recipe says). And Jeff’s been getting in the habit of making pizza dough on the weekend and letting it ferment for a couple of days, so we usually make pizzas on Tuesday or Wednesday, experimenting with various techniques for maximum crust deliciousness. It’s impossible to get the chewy Napoli-style crust with its charred black bubbles in an electric oven, but we’ve still been pretty happy with the results lately.
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. Finally, here’s a cake that just captures the existential horror of being alive.