range life
pandemic Thanksgiving, and being kinda lazy
Doesn’t it feel like we could use a big pause button on life in general? I know this isn’t an uncommon experience but lately things have just been… a lot. A long weekend provides enough of a taste of a break that getting back to the real world sometimes seems extra hard, especially if you’re doing it after eating multiple slices of pumpkin pie. While Canada’s Thanksgiving feels primarily centred around the harvest and not as blatantly colonial as in the US (let’s not even get into the abomination that is Columbus Day), it still cannot be completely divorced from our history of colonization. But we do have the opportunity to celebrate the end of harvest season in a way that honours the earth we share and the Indigenous people who have always cared for it:
Canada’s colonization is not something that’s in the past, merely the sins of our ancestors; it’s something we all need to continue working to undo the effects of today. Give thanks, and give back.
I wrote last week about being sad to lose out on our usual Thanksgiving with many dishes and friends, but by the time the weekend rolled around, I was ready to embrace our relaxed Thanksgiving. Saturday evening we went to check out the soft open of In Vacanza (the pasta food truck)— they’re still getting things fine-tuned in their tiny space but the rigatoni all’amatriciana I had was delicious and I’m excited to see how it all develops! I’d chatted with Eryn, the chef, briefly on instagram and she was so sweet to say hello to us even though she was clearly busy cooking up a storm. The truck is conveniently located in the alley between two small-batch distilleries, The Woods and Sons of Vancouver, so while waiting for our food we picked up a bottle of amaretto from the latter (we have The Woods’ amaro in our bar already, and it’s fabulous).
On Sunday afternoon I made us a cocktail to enjoy while doing the (very easy) prep for our lazy Thanksgiving dinner: equal parts gin, amaro, and amaretto, topped with aranciata Italian soda, plain soda, and lemon zest. The amaretto was the dominant flavour, but it was easy drinking nonetheless. We went a non-traditional route with our dinner (since we have a somewhat traditional feast every year) and made this lovely fennel and oregano slow-roasted chicken, with cocktail tomatoes and loads of garlic. It was peaceful to know that getting our dinner ready basically came down to gathering oregano from outside, seasoning the chicken, cutting tomatoes, and putting it all in the Le Creuset to roast.
I’d made this chicken once before, early this summer, so I had made a note that it cooked faster than indicated in the recipe— it was fully cooked and tender after two hours. Unfortunately I forgot to note that cutting the garlic in half crosswise like the recipe says resulted in loose cloves of garlic from the top half separating and flying all over the place. The first time I did it I just roasted the heads whole and cut them afterwards to squeeze the cloves into the dish while the chicken is resting, which is obviously much easier than digging around in the pot to find all the cloves to get them out of their skins (or worse, serving as is and having to take the skins off at your plate).
I had some leftover tomato vinaigrette in the fridge, so we used that on a salad of arugula, pomegranate, and toasted pumpkin seeds. Slices of sourdough toast were the vessel for the tomatoes and garlic, and it was all very rustic and satisfying. The first time I made this dish, I was wary of the large amount of crushed fennel seeds called for to season the chicken, since I tend to find their flavour overpowering, but I’m glad I didn’t try to use less— with the juicy, buttery tomatoes and roasted garlic flavour, it was perfect. We opened a bottle of oaky chardonnay from last year’s wine trip, which rounded everything out nicely. And of course, not having a veritable mountain of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen made our quiet dinner for two all the more enjoyable.
Getting back to pasta… you know that one friend you don’t see much but then you run into each other and have an excellent time catching up and you’re like, “this is so great! Why don’t we do this more often?” This is the pasta version of that. I forget about it for months and months, and then I’ll need to use up some brussels sprouts, remember it exists, and have a delightful time. The recipe comes from Isa Does It, a cookbook I use often and heartily recommend. It’s full of vegan recipes that aren’t so easy they’re boring, but not so time- or labour-intensive you can’t make most of them on a weeknight with things that are often already in your fridge or pantry.
Anyway, this is a fairly straightforward pasta that tastes complex and sophisticated: lightly charred brussels sprouts, salty pieces of kalamata olives, and crunchy toasted walnut bits. Everything is made on the stovetop, toasting the walnuts while your water comes to a boil, and gently steaming the sprouts with your pasta water before finishing them in the pan. The recipe adds the sprouts to the pan after the onions have begun frying, but if you’re not in a hurry to eat, I like to do the opposite to maximize the sear you get on the sprouts while ensuring they don’t overcook. Send them straight from the steamer into the skillet for a few minutes, toss them around and cook a couple minutes more, then set them aside while the rest of the dish comes together, adding them again at the end. I threw in a bit of arugula this time, too. Obviously it’s delicious as is, but I am a cheese fiend who can’t resist a dusting of pecorino.
Every day this week I’ve thought to myself, “man, I sure wish I had a tasty baked treat right about now,” and yet it wasn’t until Thursday that I finally made something. I settled on these brown butter coconut cookies from Smitten Kitchen, which involved the reverse of remembering to soften butter: making brown butter and then letting it re-solidify. It is worth it though— there is simply no replacement for the nutty, toasty richness of brown butter. The combination of that plus the large-flake coconut elevates a fairly simple cookie to something spectacular.
I halved the recipe because my freezer’s getting full and I didn’t want to be responsible for a veritable mountain of cookies, but the quantities are kind of annoying to begin with and halving them didn’t help. Next time I’ll just make the 4 dozen cookies and create a bike courier service to deliver people the extras, or something.
As the fall harvest comes to a close, our tomatillo plants, which I was worried weren’t going to produce at all, finally managed enough fruit for me to make some salsa verde! This is what I used as a base sauce for the enchiladas I made in the first edition of this newsletter. I don’t have plans for this yet so I just added it to my freezer collection, where I’ve been amassing sauces and soups for when sunshine and vegetables that aren’t roots seem like a distant memory). I thought I’d include my method of making this salsa, since it’s pretty basic and that makes it versatile. The quantities are just how I like to make it— you can add more tomatillos if you want a thicker salsa, or more jalapeño (or use a serrano) if you like it spicier.
SALSA VERDE
340g (12 oz) tomatillos, husks removed
1 large or 2 small jalapeños
¼ cup white onion, roughly chopped
1 or 2 garlic cloves, peeled
¼ cup cilantro, lightly packed
juice of half a lime (about 1 tbsp)
big pinch of salt
Preheat the broiler. Place the tomatillos and jalapeños in a baking dish and cook until softened and blackened in places, turning a few times, 12-15 min.
Remove the stems from the peppers (and seeds if you want less heat), and add the peppers and tomatillos to a food processor or blender along with the remaining ingredients. Taste for salt and lime and adjust as needed. Due to the pectin in the tomatillos this gets a bit gelatinous after awhile in the fridge, but gently reheating in the microwave will restore its consistency (plus, it’s good warm). Makes roughly 2 cups and lasts about a week in the fridge.
Media:
Is anyone tired of hearing about Sohla El-Waylly? I hope not! If you haven’t already, treat yourself to this wonderful profile of her by E. Alex Jung for Vulture. She talks about her inspirations and her experiences with racism and sexism in the food world, but I’ll let the piece speak for itself. She also recently announced a new column at Food52, Off-Script with Sohla. Between this and Stump Sohla, she’s basically living that scene from Pretty Woman where Julia Roberts goes back with all her new clothes to the store where they wouldn’t let her shop, except the store is Bon Appétit.
If you haven’t watched the first few Stump Sohla episodes yet, they’re absolutely delightful (and make me miss our own monthly vegan cookoffs deeply). As a snack food connoisseur, I particularly liked the bodega tasting menu episode: she is tasked to make a seven-course tasting menu using only ingredients purchased at the convenience store. Watching her creativity come to life with the challenge and seeing the obvious excitement she has for trying something experimental brings about the feelings of joy and anticipation we all like in cooking shows— and hopefully, to experience when we challenge ourselves in our own kitchens.
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this week’s newsletter, please pass it on to someone new! Finally, here’s a drinking game you can play with your large dog.