rabbit and green olive ragout

Rabbit is very lean meat. It's so lean that it can kill you through rabbit starvation, a rare form of protein toxicity that sometimes kills isolated explorers who run out of vegetables and fat and have only very lean meat to eat for extended periods. There is no danger from rabbit if eaten with vegetables, fat and carbohydrates though, so no need to fear this pasta. But rabbit starvation is good to keep in mind if you're planning an arctic expedition or post-apocalyptic survival bunker. Preppers take note.

Even though it is so lean, it can be very tender if you cook it slowly. Farmed rabbit is very mild meat and it goes well with bright, sour, salty flavours. This ragout has similar flavours to puttanesca: tomatoes, olives, capers and lots of garlic, but it's cooked very slowly. I like to put in some of the olives and capers right near the end of cooking to give both slow cooked and fresher versions of their flavours to the sauce. 

rabbit ragout: 

• one whole rabbit, cut into pieces (ask your butcher to cut it, or follow these instructions)

• one pound of tomatoes chopped (fresh, canned or frozen are fine)

• one cup chicken stock

• olive or vegetable oil

• one cup green olives, divided

• 2 tbs capers, divided

• one whole bulb of garlic, peeled and smashed

• one large yellow onion, chopped

• a bunch of parsley, roughly chopped

• a generous amount of homemade or dry pasta

In a large dutch oven on medium heat, sear the rabbit pieces with a little oil, browning on all sides. Remove the rabbit and set aside. Sauté the garlic and onions until golden brown.  Add the tomatoes and cook until they begin to soften. 

Return the rabbit to the pot. Add the stock, half the olives and half the capers. Increase the heat until the liquid simmers vigorously and then reduce to medium low. Cook on low until rabbit is very tender and falling off the bone, around 1.5-2hrs. Remove pan from heat. Remove rabbit pieces, shred the meat off the bone and return it to the pan. Add the remaining olives and capers. Serve over fresh papparedelle, made from super rich pasta dough like this one from smitten kitchen or over any other pasta you like. Sprinkle over lots of fresh parsley.

Photos by Tyrel Hiebert

chess pie bars

This recipe wasn't always bars; it started as pie. Chess pie. The first time I made it I followed the Milk Bar recipe and made it into a pie and that was great. But it struck me that the pie would make great cookie bars too.  There is something about pie that demands an occasion. A party or a weekend dinner.  A pie wants guests, planning, intention. A bar cookie is not similarly demanding. It is an afternoon snack, and a dessert and it is almost appropriate with coffee in the morning. It is potlucky, midweeky, casual, nonchalant. A bar is ready for you anytime.

Chess pie is a kind of sugar pie from the southern US. If sugar pie isn't ringing bells for you, other varieties include pecan pie, buttermilk pie, shoofly pie and butter tarts. Sugars pies have sticky, gooey, runny, not quite set up fillings in pastry or another crust, with or without extras like nuts, chocolate or fruit. Even if you make it in pie-form, this recipe is a big departure from traditional chess pie; the pastry crust has been replaced by an oatmeal cookie crumb crust. 

A note on weird ingredients: the corn powder in the filling is tricky to find. If you find a source of powdered, freeze-dried corn, that's perfect. If not you can look for whole freeze-dried corn kernels and grind them finely into a powder. I found mine in a Victoria institution, Capital Iron, a camping-gardening-kitchen-furniture-antiques-hot tubs-miscellany-everything store. It was in a kind of survivalist/prepper area of the store, with big drums full of food and supplies to outline the zombie apocalypse. The only size available was a huge four litre tin, bigger than my head. I am the now proud owner of a lot of freeze-dried corn. More than I can ever foresee using. It's worth it to find the corn, it give a nice, nutty, hard-to-put-your-finger-on sort of flavour, it's not like other sorts of sugar pie I have tried. If you can find very finely ground cornmeal, that will work too, though the freeze dried corn is more flavourful. If you need to skip it altogether though, you'll still have a respectable sugar pie and you can certainly add nuts or fruit or chocolate to make it more exciting. 

crust:

Adapted from Milk Bar. Note: This makes enough crust for two pies. The crumbs will freeze well so you can save them for next time. Or just eat the extra cookie.

• 1/2 cup butter, at room temperature

• 1/3 cup brown sugar

• 3 tbs granulated sugar

• 1 egg yolk

• 1/2 cup flour

• 1 1/2 cups rolled oats

• 1/8 tsp baking powder

• pinch baking soda

• 1/2 tsp salt

Beat butter and sugars in a stand mixer until very fluffy. Reduce speed, add egg yolk and then return to high speed until fully incorporated. Scrape down the sides. Add all dry ingredients and mix on low speed until there are no dry spots. Dump the dough onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet and flatten it with your hands.

Bake at 350 for around 15 minutes, until it is golden brown and cool on a wire rack. Break apart into large chunks and pulverize them into a rough rubble in a food processor. Divide in half and set one half aside for later. 

filling: 

 Adapted from Milk Bar.

• 3/4 cup granulated sugar

• 1/4 cup + 2 tbs light brown sugar

• 2 tbs milk powder

• 2 tbs corn powder

• 1/2 tsp kosher salt

• 1/2 cup butter, melted

• 160 g (3/4 cup) heavy cream

• 1 tsp vanilla extract

• 4 egg yolks

Combine sugars, milk powder, corn powder and salt in the bowl bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.  Add melted butter and beat to combine. Add cream, egg yolks and vanilla and beat on low until combined and silky. 

assembly: 

• 2 tbs butter, melted

• 1/2 recipe of oat cookie crumbs

• 1 recipe filling

Heat oven to 350. Line an 8x8 pan with parchment paper.  Mix oat crumbs with melted butter and press into the bottom of the parchment lined pan. Pour the filling over the oat crust. Bake for 15 minutes, the reduce the oven temperature to 325. Keep the door open for a couple minutes to help the temperature reduce. Then continue baking for about 5 minutes, until the middle of the pie is semi-set but still somewhat wobbly. Chill on a wire rack and then transfer to the fridge. Chill for at least three hours, preferably overnight. 

Photos: Tyrel Hiebert

strawberry rhubarb crumble ice cream

I don't have an ice cream machine and I feel conflicted about them. I like making ice cream and a machine certainly makes the process easier, and give a slightly smoother, creamier result. I have waffled back and forth over buying one. But they are terrible space hogs and they are pretty one-task. I have plenty of space hog kitchen tools (stand mixer, food processor) and even lots of one task items (vegetable spiralizer, pasta roller, ravioli molds). But I'm just not sure I would use an ice cream maker more than a couple times a year. But it's summer and it's hot and this perfect idea of a summer ice cream kept rolling around my brain; strawberry rhubarb crumble ice cream. All the components, the gooey fruit, the crispy crumbs, packed into the ice cream. 

Thankfully, you don't actually need an ice cream machine to make ice cream. David Lebovitz has a great post about making ice cream without a machine, and I have been used his technique a few times. It's so labour intensive that every time I do it, it puts me right off making ice cream for a long time. But it also satisfies my occasional urge to make ice cream without having to buy a bulky new kitchen tool. I'm pretty sure all the whisking must be cardiovascularly effective too, so making this is effectively like going to the gym. Good job!

strawberry rhubarb compote:

• 1 cup rhubarb, chopped
• 1 cup strawberries, chopped 
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2 tbs water 

Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan. Cook over medium heat until fruit is falling apart. Set aside to cool. 

crumbs: 

• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1/2 cup cold butter

Combine ingredients in a food processor. Process into a rubble. Tip the crumbs out onto a baking sheet lined with parchment. Bake at 350 until golden brown, 10-15 minutes.  Set aside to cool.

vanilla ice cream: 

adapted from David Lebovitz 

• 1 cup whole milk
• A pinch of salt
• 3/4 cup (150g) sugar
• 1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
• 2 cups cream
• 5 large egg yolks
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Combine milk, salt, and sugar in a medium saucepan; heat on medium. Scrape a teaspoon along the inside of the vanilla bean; add seeds and bean pod to the pot.  Take the pot of the heat and infuse for one hour, covered. 

Make an ice bath by filling a large bowl with ice and water and place a medium bowl in the ice bath. Set a strainer on top and add the cream to this bowl. Stir the egg yolks together in a small bowl. Heat the milk in a sauce pan and pour a very small amount into the yolks, stirring constantly. Repeat this, adding about half the hot milk to the yolks. Return the yolks/milk into the saucepan and cook on medium until it thickens. Scrap the bottom of the pan well and stir constantly to prevent scolding or lumps. Strain the thickened custard into the cream. Stir to combine the cream and custard. Chill for several hours or overnight. 

If you are using an ice cream machine, freeze the custard following your machine's instructions. 

To freeze your ice cream with no machine, pour the custard into a wide, shallow pan and place in the freezer. Set a timer for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, remove the pan and whisk vigorously. Make sure to scrape down the sides where the first ice crystals will begin to form. 

Repeat this process every 30 minutes until the ice cream is very thick and whisking becomes very difficult. This will take ages, depending on how cold your freezer is, probably several hours. 

Stir the cooled crumbs through the ice cream. Swirl the rhubarb compote through the cream. I like to keep distinct blobs of rhubarb strawberry goo in a vanilla ice cream matrix, so I stir it in minimally. Return to the freezer until the ice cream is firm, at least a couple hours. 

hazelnut mocha cake

I was very excited to discover, while assembling this cake, a new use for my blowtorch. I love my blowtorch and I like to use it as much as possible. I used to have one of those small culinary blowtorches with a little, tame flame. Then I got a big one from the hardware store. It has a much larger flame and it takes much less time to do the same job as a smaller blowtorch. Plus, it makes me think of the welding in Flashdance. I discovered my new reason to wield the blowtorch when I was pouring the ganache over the chilled, frosted cake. The ganache was a bit cool so that it wouldn't run too much and the cake was very cold. I started to coax it over the sides of the cake to make little ganache icicles but it set up really quickly on the cold cake and only a few little chocolate rivulets ran over the sides before it stopped running entirely and  just sat there on top. I thought that the cake was doomed to be lopsidedly ganached. But gentle application of blowtorch flame loosened up the ganache and the cake was saved. 

This cake is a bit of an undertaking to make, I recommend doing it in stages, at least over two or three days, so that it's not overwhelming. There's nothing all that hard to make, but there are  a lot of components. 

coffee syrup: 

• 1/2 strong brewed hot coffee
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla

Dissolve the sugar into the coffee. Set aside to cool. This can be made well in advance and stored in the fridge or freezer. 

hazelnut cru nch: 

adapted loosely from baked 

• 3/4 cups crisped cereal, rice or millet
• 1/2 cup feuilletine flakes
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons golden syrup or corn syrup
• 2 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1/4 cup roughly chopped hazelnuts 

Cook the sugar and syrup together with 3 tbs water in a small pan, stirring to combine. Let the syrup come to a boil and check the temperature with a candy thermometer. While the syrup is cooking, mix cereal, hazelnuts and feuilletine in a medium bowl. Once the syrup reaches 235 F, remove from heat, add butter and pour over the cereal mix. Coat the cereal with the syrup quickly and spread thinly over a baking sheet. Let cool. Store in a sealed container in the fridge. 

coffee italian meringue buttercream:

adapted from Martha Stewart

• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 2/3 cup water 
• 5 egg whites or 1/2 cup + 2tbs pasteurized egg whites
• 2 cups butter, softened
• 1 vanilla bean's innards or 1/2 tsp vanilla powder
• 3 tsp coffee extract

Bring sugar and water to a boil in a small sauce pan. Using a candy thermometer to monitor the temperature, continue boiling until the mixture reaches 238 degrees. 

As the sugar is boiling, whip the egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer on medium speed. The goal is to get the egg whites stiff when the sugar reaches 238; if they are getting close to being stiff but the syrup isn't hot enough I turn the mixer to the lowest setting until the syrup is nearly up to temperature. 

Once the sugar syrup is up to temperature, turn mixer up to high speed and pour the syrup into the egg whites in a very thin stream. Lower the speed to medium and beat until the outside of the mixer bowl is no longer hot to the touch. Add butter in small chunks, 2-3 tbs butter at a time. The frosting will very likely curdle; this is normal and it should resolve if you keep beating. A stand mixer is very useful here because it makes your arm ache if you have to hold a hand held beater for that long. Also, I like to leave the frosting beating at this point and do something else rather than stand watching the curdled mess. 

Once the frosting comes together again, add the vanilla and coffee extract and mix thoroughly, scrapping down the bowl. 

Note: this recipe will make far more buttercream than necessary for these macarons, but it freezes very well and I like to keep frozen buttercream in the freezer for frosting emergencies. Use what you need and store the rest in a mason jar in the freezer. When you just want to frost a few cupcakes, scoop out frosting as required with an ice cream scoop and bring up to room temperature. Whip in a stand mixture-it will break at first and look horribly like a runny, viscous scrambled eggy mess. Keep on whipping and it will fluff up again. 

chocolate frosting: 

• 8 ounces chocolate
• 3/4 cups heavy cream
• 1 tbs golden syrup (or corn syrup if you wish)
• 3/4 cups butter

Heat cream and syrup over medium high heat. Pour hot cream over chocolate in the bowl of a mixer and mix on the lowest setting. Scrape the bowl to mix and make sure all the chocolate is melting evenly. Let the chocolate cool to room temperature. Mix chocolate mixture on medium speed, adding butter a little at a time. The frosting will become remarkably light and silky, though still deeply, intensely chocolatey.

Make the chocolate frosting  directly before frosting the cake, do not chill the frosting. It won't stay smooth and silky and lovely if you chill it. 

hazelnut vanilla cake:

recipe adapted from baked

• 2 1/2 cups cake flour
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 tbs baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup butter
• 1/2 cup shortening or lard
• 1 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 tsp vanilla or 1 tsp vanilla powder
• 1 large egg
• 1 1/2 cups ice water
• 3 egg whites
• 1/2 cup hazelnuts, toasted and ground into a fine meal

Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl and set aside. Cream together the browned butter and the lard. Add the sugar and the vanilla and beat until fluffy. Add the egg and just combine. Turn the mixer to low and add the flour mixture and water in turns. Scrape down the bowl to ensure everything is mixed properly.

In a clean bowl, beat the eggs until soft peaks form. Gently fold egg whites into the batter until well combined. 

Divide batter between two 6 inch pans and bake at 325 degrees F for 40 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean. Allow cakes to cool completely and cut each cake into two layers, trimming off the tops if necessary to make even layers. 

Chill or freeze cake layers wrapped in cling wrap.

This step can be done well in advance; the cake can last in the freezer if triple wrapped in cling wrap. 

assembly:

Set out cake layers, frostings, syrup and hazelnut crunch. One layer at a time, brush the cake with syrup, frost with alternately chocolate or coffee frosting and sprinkle on the hazelnut crunch. Stack on another layer and repeat until you have five frosted cake layers. Roughly frost the top and side of the cake with coffee frosting and refrigerate until the frosting is set hard. Re-whip  the remaining coffee frosting until it is soft. Cover the cake with the remaining coffee frosting. Chill again. 

If you wish, drizzle the cake with a little ganache (1/4 cup cream, 1/2 cup chocolate, melted together and cooled slightly) and a few whole hazelnuts. 

Photos by Tyrel Hiebert 

penne a la vodka

This is a deceptive little sauce. It looks more or less like plain old tomato sauce, it's just as easy to make as plain old tomato sauce.  But it is not just tomato sauce; it's tomato sauce with vodka! And cream! It's richer and creamier and fancier. It's fancy tomato sauce.  If you want to make it even fancier, you can serve it topped with some shrimp sautéed in garlic and butter. Or really lean into the carbs + butter combo theme of this meal and have some garlic bread. 

I have been making this recipe for a few years, ever since I saw it on Smitten Kitchen, where the brilliant Deb Pereleman adapted it from a Rachel Ray recipe. But I was reluctant to post it here, for some reason I couldn't quite fathom. In her post, Deb talks about being embarrassed by the original name of the recipe: "You Won't Be Single For Long Vodka Cream Pasta". I find names like this more than just embarrassing-they make me shudder, they make my skin crawl a little. I can't say them aloud; the idea of ordering something with a name like this makes me feel unwell. Embarrassing names like this tend to turn up in bars that have house invited libations  (I feel like there may be a correlation between names of this sort and bartenders who call themselves mixologists, but this is just a hunch). I wonder about the thought process behind these names. Do bartenders and menu writers do this knowing the moment of anxiety they will produce among their more neurotic customers when they contemplate saying these things? I have sometimes resorted to pointing at what I want rather than having to say the unpleasant names that proud (or malicious?) bartenders or chefs have given their inventions. If the idea of this sort of name is unfamiliar to you, browse through any Guy Fieri menu and I think you'll see what I mean. If you can contemplate saying "guy-talian" to another human being without breaking a sweat, you are a stronger person than me. 

Maybe the residual embarrassing-name-shame I felt from just reading about the recipe was keeping me from sharing it. But I powered through my overdeveloped sense of awkward-name-anxiety for two reasons:

• This pasta is really tasty.

• And it has another name! A proper name, a sensible name. A name I can say without blushing: penne a la vodka.

penne a la vodka:

adapted from smitten kitchen

• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

• 4 cloves garlic, smashed

• 2 shallots, minced

• a big pinch of red chili flakes

• 3/4 cup vodka

• 1 cup chicken stock

• 2 cups tomatoes, roughly chopped (if it's not tomato season, canned or frozen tomatoes are probably better than fresh)

• salt and pepper

• 1/2 cup heavy cream

• lots of fresh basil, shredded

• penne

Fry garlic, shallots and chili in oil and butter over medium heat until they begin to brown. Add vodka and cook until reduced by about half. Add chicken stock and tomatoes. Cook until the tomatoes are falling apart and the sauce has thickened. Add cream and simmer on medium low until the pasta is ready.

While the sauce is cooking, cook penne in a generous quantity of salted water. When the pasta is al dente  drain it and toss into sauce. Serve, topped with basil and a little parmesan if you want. Call this dish whatever you like and try not to be too stressed out about it. 

Spicy tequila sour

This is a kind of seasonless cocktail. It can certainly qualify as a summer drink; the tequila and lime combination feels beachy and sunny. But the pleasant heat from the jalapenos has a winterizing effect; it will warm you during these rainy, snowy, grey months while you pine for sunshine and heat. This cocktail is highly effective all year round. It will fortify your spirits and remind you that winter can't actually last forever.

The tequila sour is based on the whisky sour, but with tequila and lime in place of whisky and lemon. It's easy to double or triple for and you set it out in the pitcher for self serves cocktails if you like. 

jalapeno simple syrup: 

• 1 cup sugar

• 1 cup water

• 1 jalapeno, thinly sliced

Combine all ingredients in a small pan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until the syrup is quite spicy when you taste it (let it cool well before tasting!). Keep in mind that the other cocktail ingredients will mute the heat; I try to make the syrup a bit hotter than I want the drink to be. 

Let cool. 

hot tequila sour: 

• 6 ounces tequila

• 3/4 cup fresh lime juice

• 4 ounces jalapeno syrup

• 1/2 cup water

• thin lime and jalapeno slices to garnish

Combine tequila, lime juice, syrup and water in a pitcher with ice and stir to combine. Adjust to taste, adding more lime juice or syrup if needed. 

Divide between four glasses and garnish with lime and japapeno slices.  Share with some friends who need a beachy, balmy, spicy boost!

Photo credit: Tyrel Hiebert