the time will pass anyways

heat wave woes and a potato salad recipe

Hello, friends. Did everyone make it through the heat wave well-hydrated and relatively unharmed? Jeff and I are feeling the effects of going from a well-insulated basement suite that’s in the shade for much of the day to a fourth-floor apartment with south-facing windows at last. Even with the blinds closed, it got up to 27°C inside, which isn’t as bad as it could be— not super comfortable, but we’ve been managing so far with strategic fan movements throughout the day. We’ll see if we make it to next summer without installing an air conditioner of some kind, though.

We also finally took advantage of the fact that we’re walking distance from the ocean, and took the path down to the beach on Saturday, eventually making our way to Cates Park. We didn’t swim, but the paths through the forest were noticeably cooler, and we did share a mint chocolate chip waffle cone from the Wally’s Burgers at the southeast end of the park. (Mint ice cream feels more refreshing than the other traditional flavours when it’s hot out, doesn’t it?) It was a bit early for dinner— we ended up getting sushi later— but we’ve resolved to go back and try a burger before the end of the summer since it’s so close by.

I’ve had a pretty rough week and therefore didn’t do a lot of proper cooking (thank you, box of Costco spring rolls), nor did I take many photos of my cooking when I did. I feel as if I’ve been apologising a lot lately for this newsletter not being what it once was, and I do believe I’ll have inspiration again in the future, but in the meantime I hope that gathering some of my thoughts and meals here still speaks to you in some way. Without getting too deep into it, I spent six hours at the E.R. on Monday night. They sent me home at 2 in the morning having ruled out all the really scary stuff, but I’m now in a four-month waiting period to see a specialist, so my worries are only moderately stabilized rather than eliminated. As they say, though, the time will pass anyways.

The time will pass anyways. It’s something I talk about a lot in this newsletter, because eating and cooking are so inextricably tied to the seasons, to changes in my personal life, to the weather, to events I look forward to and those I dread. And much of the time these markers seem to sneak up on me, a phenomenon we all experience whether we’re watching the calendar or not. At the end of April, I’m still looking behind me wondering what happened to March. An August 1 deadline in early June feels as though I still have all the time in the world, but then I blink and we’re almost midway through July.

The point of the original post was to remind us that we shouldn’t necessarily let the frustration of a task taking a long time hold us back. If you want cilantro to use with dinner, planting coriander seeds that won’t produce sprouts for a week or two might feel pointless, but the time will pass anyway, and then one day you’ll have fresh cilantro ready for another dinner without having to think about it. If you want a sandwich right now, making no-knead bread that has to rise overnight won’t help you, but the time will pass anyway, and the next day you’ll have a beautiful loaf that you made. If I start writing a story because it’s something I wanted to read, it’s annoying that my writing speed is much, much slower than my reading speed, but the time will pass anyways, and eventually I’ll get to read the exact story I was looking for.

I of course hope I see some improvement; that I won’t spend all of the next four months feeling the way I’m feeling now, but even if I do… well, the time will pass anyways. I can do things that might make my day-to-day life easier and more comfortable, I can try to enjoy the things I usually enjoy. And of course, I’ll accept whatever form of good vibes and support you have to throw at me, too. Onward.

sometimes you just need to eat a veggie burger on a brioche bun about it.

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I made some tzatziki late last week, and pan-fried some zucchini to put on top. It’s based on this lovely Smitten Kitchen recipe, but I like to use my own tzatziki recipe for additional texture rather than the more straightforward garlic yogurt. I couldn’t be bothered with the chickpeas this time, but the dish still wants a little crunch, so I chopped up a handful of my cherished bag of Trader Joe’s rosemary almonds. They were nicely salty and the rosemary worked well with the fresher taste of the mint and parsley. We used taftoon to scoop it up, but a fork will do if you don’t have any flatbread around.

I still have a tiny bit of last year’s big batch of pesto in the freezer, and used it for a simple dinner when I couldn’t think of something more interesting to make: linguine with pesto, peas, a little fresh parmesan. And using up the old pesto means now I get to look for a big bunch of basil at the farmers’ market in order to make a new batch to replace it.

We also made pizza before it got too hot to turn the oven on. The crust for these turned out really well— I only wish the dough were a little less sticky so we didn’t have to use parchment (which burns under the broiler and we just deal) to transfer it from the paddle to the stone. Anyway, one was the usual mushroom and olive, and the other was extra-hot capocollo with sun-dried and fresh tomatoes.

Wednesday this week I thought ahead and made potato salad around lunchtime so that it would be nice and cool from the fridge by dinner. The recipe in the Veganomicon is where I started, years ago, but it’s become somewhat of its own thing now, so I’ve included my method below. It’s easily vegan— or not if that’s your preference— and makes the perfect barbecue side. I ate this as a meal all on its own, though, since I live like a bachelor when Jeff’s not home. While making this I was watching the England vs. Netherlands game, and while eating it I was watching Star Trek with some friends on Discord. I am large, I contain multitudes.

CLASSIC POTATO SALAD
2-2.5 lbs (1-1.2 kg) Yukon gold potatoes, unpeeled
½ cup mayo or vegan mayo
scant ¼ cup (40 mL) white vinegar
2 tbsp each grainy mustard and olive oil
1 tbsp sugar
1 tsp dried dill (or use 1 tbsp fresh dill, and some parsley if you like)
½ tsp turmeric
¾ tsp salt, and black pepper to taste
2 ribs celery
1 large or two small dill or kosher pickles (not the gigantic deli ones, I feel I should specify)
optional additions: grated carrot, a chopped boiled egg, green onion or chives

Chop the potatoes into medium pieces, around ¾” to 1”. It’s fine if some are bigger or smaller— you want some to stay more solid and some to break down a little as they cook. Put them in a pot and cover completely with water, and salt it well. Bring to a boil with the lid on, then continue cooking with the lid ajar for about 10 minutes, until you can pierce the largest ones with a fork and some of the smaller ones have broken down. Drain and give them a rinse under cold water, then let cool for 10-15 more minutes.

While the potatoes are cooking, make the dressing in a large bowl. Whisk together all the liquid ingredients and spices. Cut the celery ribs in half lengthwise, then into small slices widthwise. Dice the pickles, adding both these and the celery to the dressing. Add any of the optional ingredients you may be using at this time, too, and taste for salt. When the potatoes are cool, mix everything up with a spatula or a wooden spoon and taste for seasoning, then refrigerate for at least two hours, until fully chilled. Makes a good amount for a family dinner, about 6 cups. Double it if you’re bringing it to a big party.

A tip for boiled potatoes in general: when you’re ready to wash the pot and strainer after, give these (and your masher/ricer if you’re also mashing them) a quick scrub under cold water. This will loosen the starch more easily than hot water. When most of the starchy residue is gone, then you can wash normally with soap and warm water.

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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 any donations, especially while I’m still looking for work, are greatly appreciated. Claire is coming to visit next week and I may be too busy having a great time to write, so until I see you again, here, have this.