Let Them Eat Cake

And now for another disaster...signed the Anti-Chef.

Sunday morning... who doesn't like the idea of waking up to the smell of a fluffy cake cooking in the oven? And so, with my heart in the right place and my head somewhere out in left field, I emptied the pack of cake mix (don't judge me) into the pan and slid it in the oven. Timer said 45 minutes, easy enough. Except I didn't see the fine print, which read: Cooking time 45 minutes, but if this is Caterina - stand beside the oven because you will surely manage to screw even this up. Next thing I know, the house is full of smoke, and Franck is waking up screaming "Merde! Merde!" and there I am, with my burnt cake in my hands, cursing "Les recettes Bonne Maman" under my breath. 

To make matters worse, with the onset of cold weather, I'm morphing into a tea drinking yuppy and have been trading in my Louboutins for slippers. Glerups to be precise.  Made in Denmark, these booties are felted in pure, natural wool. I picked them up at my favourite Scandinavian boutique in Paris' St. Paul neighbourhood. Sexy ja?

Tisk, TISK!

et Merde. This happens to me every single time. What is the point of putting these things if they always tear off before doing their job! Frustraaaaaation!!!!! 

Deep breaths Cat, deep breaths. 

Dog's Breakfast

Franck is off in Denmark for the week, and I'm starting to get hungry. Whenever I'm not here, he says that he basically stops cooking and whenever he's not here, my diet turns to pasta, cheese, bread, (and cookies!). Cooking for one is never inspiring, but luckily - I have a dog to take care of!  

Presenting Emile. He's kind of like a skinny model - "I eat all the time, whatever I want, and never get fat." Ha! Of course, Emile doesn't like regular dog food, so tonight, he will be served pasta mixed with hamburger meat.  He is an Italian greyhound after all.

Hiatus

Wowza. 

I realise that I haven't posted in almost a month - but what can I say - I needed a break from cooking once a week. I've spent the past while back and forth between Abu Dhabi and Dubai - living the good life and eating in restaurants night after glorious night. You know how sometimes you miss a home cooked meal? Well, sometimes I miss two weeks of non-stop eating out. And when I say eating out - I mean dress your best, jump in a waiting Mazarati, check your coat (Kidding! Weather was gorgeous in the UAE) dive into prawns, sea bass, and sake, and order everything off the menu that you can't pronounce. Dubai is all about working hard and working it harder. Now I'm back in grey, rainy Paris and staring at Franck's Kitchen like it's a foreign, inanimate object. I am going to need to get my mojo back and start getting inspired again. Though I won't be cooking this evening as Friday night Parisian life is calling me - I will be slipping on these Louboutins. Yes ladies, Christmas came early. Back from Dubai and three pairs richer. (Bank account is a whole lot poorer.) But the morale is high and sometimes that's all that matters.

A Personal Post

Breakfast...

As much as I would love to go on about how I owe my fantastic figure to starting the day off with yogurt, freshly cut up fruit, and a warm cup of green tea; it's really actually down to great genes and kick starting the day with a café and chocolate biscuits (followed by a daily dose of wine, cheese and bread).


I never could stand waking up to a massive spread on the table for breakfast... you know, when people empty out everything in their fridge and cupboards and display it on the table like it's Christ's Last Supper: breads, cheeses, meats, eggs, juices, five types of cakes... just seeing all that food early in the morning makes me positively sick. 


Life is complicated enough that I like to keep to keep my mornings simple with a warm coffee, a bit of milk, and a few classic biscuits (nothing too fancy, elaborate and commercial). 


I have tried tea... but you need to drink several pots of the stuff to get the whole 'it's so good for you' effect - which by the way, you also get if you eat just one apple a day - and that comes minus the yellow teeth. (Yes, tea drinkers, your teeth are yellow and mine are going red from all the wine). Sure everything that surrounds tea is lovely: the cups, the smells, the visions of India, the rituals, but frankly, nothing compares to a shot of espresso. 


Once I was smitten for a man - and then in the morning he asked for 'tea please' and I had to leave him because I henceforth considered him a pansy. I know that may sound horrible, but what can I say, I'm half Sicilian. 

When is it OK to cheat?

When it's with an Italian - 'ovviamente'. 

Sauces from La Favorita

My girlfriend Julie Brassard (see below), came over for dinner last week (a dinner that Franck made) - and, inspired by this blog, brought me sauces from La Grande Epicerie - which is, Paris' haute couture destination for food. I never go there. 
But that's besides the point...introducing products by La Favorita! The Anti-Chef (moi) suggests that you serve them in a bowl to accompany toast as an appetizer or as a sauce to accompany a pasta or meat dish. When your hubby compliments you and asks about the sauce, smile demurely and say, "Thanks amore, it's an old recipe from Nonna."  If you don't have a Nonna, say, "Thanks amore, it's an old recipe from Caterina's Nonna." (You can borrow mine, she's lovely). No one will know you are cheating, because everyone knows that Nonnas always have the best recipes.  

Julie: another beauty and great chef.  This woman however is not a cheater. A few years ago, we were both in Montreal for a big meeting and instead of afterwards ordering pizza, she came back to the office a few hours later with an exceptional dinner that she had prepared for everyone. All of a sudden the table cloth was laid and it was Thanksgiving in the middle of June. On a work night. Yes ladies. A work night. I was stunned and felt highly inadequate. Needless to say her hubby won't be looking elsewhere. 

Salmon and Maple Syrup

As you can see from the above title, this meal I made last week combines two things I love deeply: salmon and maple syrup.

A well-balanced meal: salmon, skinny spaghetti (numéro 1), green beans and red wine from Chinon. Everyone says drink white with fish, but I find that the red brings out the flavour of the maple syrup.

As you know (or don't), maple syrup is a Canadian delicacy... it's a syrup made from the red sap of sugar maple, red maple or black maple trees. In cold climate areas (ie. Canada) these trees store starch in their stems and roots before the winter. This is then converted to sugar and rises in the sap in the spring. Quebec produces most of the world's supply of maple syrup.  No, that didn't just come from the top of my head, I copied it from Wikipedia.

Canadian maple syrup. Bottled like a fine wine.

I have always enjoyed maple syrup, sometimes, when I'm feeling homesick for Canada (yes, it does happen), I go to the fridge, and take a shot of the good stuff. You may think that's gross or unhygienic, but it's no different from sticking your finger in a nutella jar when you think no one's looking. Moving on.

Franck and I were in Toronto a while back visiting my friend Laura - I've added a picture of her below because she's gorgeous and who doesn't like looking at pretty women, especially on a Monday morning when you'd rather be anywhere but back at work. Not only is she a classic beauty, but she is also one of the best chefs I know.  While we stayed with her, Laura made us killer mojitos every night, and also barbecued salmon with a maple syrup dressing which was delicious. I had never tasted this before, and last week decided to give it a shot on my own. Admittedly, it wasn't as good as Laura's, but it was still yummy, which is a great reminder that there is hope for all of us. There were many recipes online, check the one I found below.

Laura Boag. Beauty and Chef Extraordinaire. Please come visit us soon.

From All Recipes:

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup maple syrup 
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic salt 
• 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 pound salmon
• 
  

1. In a small bowl, mix the maple syrup, soy sauce, garlic, garlic salt, and pepper.
2. Place salmon in a shallow glass baking dish, and coat with the maple syrup mixture. Cover the dish, and marinate salmon in the refrigerator 30 minutes, turning once.
3. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C).
4. Place the baking dish in the preheated oven, and bake salmon uncovered 20 minutes, or until easily flaked with a fork.

We accompanied this dish with a bottle of red 'Chinon' and Jacqueline Du Pré's Elgar Cello Concert.

An unbelievable concerto performed by one of the world's best cellists who tragically died of MS at 42. See this video. Her husband is the conductor. The concerto is fantastic, I think I will buy the music for violin, because learning this concerto will be less daunting than cooking stew. 


And now - the shoes:

Red shoes: a fashion don't

A shot from the one night I dared wear them out. As you can see they look fluorescent.
A big mistake.

I bought these in Dubai, and it was definitely a fashion no. Whenever I'm in the UAE, I tan and wear  bright colours to match the sun. When I saw these red shoes I thought, "Oh, how cute will my slender legs look in little white shorts and these red shoes on a yacht." Wrong, wrong, wrong. First of all, when on a yacht, you remove your footwear. Secondly, contrary to what you think, red shoes look good on no one. Red boots neither. So there I am at the party when my Emirati, Cavalli-loving girlfriend  turns to me and says, habibti, why red? Shouldn't you have worn navy? In that instant - I knew she was right. Contrary to what people (and myself included) might think, red shoes only belong on Dorothy and only for a few minutes, when she wants to go home, and that's it. Any other circumstance is just 'haram'.


Reason? If you wear red shoes, people don't look at your face, they look at your feet - because they are just so bright. Hit by the force of blinding colour, one can't look away. Instead of being sensual, red shoes just stand out too much and make you look all off balance. The viewer gets confused and embarrassed because he feels like his eyes are magnetised to your feet and will eventually turn away and leave. 


So now I only wear these shoes indoors when I cook salmon.

Until next time, your Anti-Chef. xx