Cashew Caress in a Spinach-y Hug

It has been a lazy weekend. Out in the forest on the western shore snug in warm vests around a camp fire, it was the kind of weekend where we took long walks and read our books in the warmth of a thick fog down at the beach. Sand stretched into rocks which stretched out and under slow, crashing waves, which seemed to come from a white blanket of cloud hovering just far enough to give us the beach to rest, and to play.

The major moment of our days camping was building and lighting a fire for the evening. It took most of our attention, and all of our efforts. It was then around the roaring flames giving off both heat and light that we could sit and watch the cascades of dancing light around the trees. We had sticks for roasting marshmallows, and after a disappointing first gluten free s'more which I described as only worth it if you intended on giving your jaw a workout while trying to chew the two home made gluten free Graham crackers sandwiching a perfectly toasted marshmallow and a small square of chocolate. Appalled, I stuck them straight in the waste. I would have liked to at least given them a second life, but being too chewy and tough, I couldn't think of a better place for them.

I was instead comforted by the leftover chocolate, if marshmallows go hand in hand Graham crackers, then chocolate slips so easily into mine.
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This West Coast Living

For Dad's birthday: a West Coast feast of Mussels

I've always sort of complained about living on an island and travelling to school everyday: the ferry, and the commute which entails, plus all those missed sailings that leave you waiting, or worse, stranded after the last boat of the day to Bowen disappears around the corner. There's also the effort and planning involved in going to town for the day, or even just to pick something up from a store which would normally only take 10 minutes. (Some might argue that kids from Bowen have an exceptional sense of time and organisation - I'll add that it's necessity rather than choice.) Add in the time for busing and you'll be home at 8 tonight, tell your teacher you can't come before school tomorrow either, unless you want to get up at 5 am. However, that isn't the point of this post. I wanted to take the time to share a moment of appreciation I had today for where I live, and the amazing opportunities I've enjoyed growing up in such a rural, carefree environment. From the moment when we could walk and play, I was outside, exploring the tunnels of trees and ferns that made up our backyard, which seemed to expand across the whole island. It wasn't until I turned seven that I remember realising our backyard only made up one part of a whole neighborhood of houses each with their own backyards. Which meant more trees to explore, more trails to map out, and wearing our exploring hats and holding fake cameras to capture our adventures, we made our way quietly - so as not to disturb the wonders of the trees, we loved to imagine a whole community of fairies hidden away among the branches and beneath the underbrush of the forest - and eventually found the perfect site to set up a wooden fort. Collecting large sticks and fallen branches to build our own camp, each new place became somewhere to play for hours. 

There was also the great big rope swing that was strung between two trees, one that I only ever swung on once before bulldozers moved in, and as quickly as the trees came down, as well as the forts of kids and evidence of their alternate worlds, houses were built up maximising the space that was once an entire planet still being explored to kids. 

It seems there is always a battle between nature and the destruction of machines. Not so literally as science-fiction might suggest, but the great bodies of orange bulldozers are always the first sign of trees to fall, dirt to be picked up and moved by the ton, and a whole new façade for the area. I remember along the Cape Roger Curtis coastline a few years ago, an area which has undergone a huge development, bulldozers were the first to show up, and since then have marked the continuing changes occurring and those to come. Lots have been cordoned off with fences and signs pushing the public out of areas we we've always had free range to explore, and the areas we've had to play camouflage and hide-and-seek on our walks with visiting relatives have now become shadows of the newest house, or somewhere beneath the newly paved road across the bed of what was once a seasonal stream.

And now, as houses are slowly being constructed with optimal views, the path which long-time residents of Bowen have always enjoyed has been squished into a thin and controlled line along the coast, with fenced hedges along either side. It is unclear whether the fences are to protect the plants from hungry deer (the grass and ferns which they once fed on bulldozed into piles of dirt), or to deter people from damaging the hedges in a fight of protest. A sense of distrust between both groups that was established from the onset of the project.

Mum and I walked along this path today, one that has become even more popular as more and more people come to see the changes that have undergone as million dollar lots are purchased, and we noted the slow integration of pieces of construction into each lot, perhaps in hope that the public will fail to notice, and their private dock will pass through council so they can travel to their summer cottage without being forced to ride the ferry, and meet the people who have grown up and seen all the changes that money and a sense of entitlement or power that often goes along with it which has been brought to the island. 

We used to walk down this path as kids, with our parents and their backpacks that held food for a picnic, and if we were planning on making a day out of it, matches and paper for a fire on the beach. Today, people are still trying to claim the beach as a public space, and in the middle of a circle of arranged logs was a fire pit made from rocks set above the high tide line to keep it on the beach until someone, disgruntled by trespassers, dismantled it. This reminded me of days we would spend at the lighthouse of the Cape, paddling in the rock pools looking for starfish and sea snails, and building rock forts for nature dolls that my sister would sometimes make out of mosses and sticks, and for hair, 'old man's beard.' Our parents would always have a large thermos of fruity tea, and passing around the flask we would warm up before dashing out after only just finishing a cheese sandwich. There were days when we would miss the beach completely after getting caught up in games among the trees, spending hours playing hide-and-seek, or running through the ferns and trails so caught up in the excitement. 

It's sad to see the coastline completely changed, transformed from the wilderness I remember from my childhood, and molded into someone else's perfected ideal of how nature can be controlled. Advertisements for the area, videos of the coast and the 'natural beauty' of the properties including wildlife and the untouched landscape, reflect a peaceful coast, but as buyers bring in supplies and ideas for building, that serenity quickly becomes past, and changes to the natural ecosystem as our neighborhood once saw when I was seven, leaves the coast and the area just like any other human settlement. With each additional property, and each new home built, it becomes more and more urbanised, a sterilized version of nature, manicured to banish the 'wild' out of wilderness.

I'd like to share a recipe for a west coast favourite, and along the Cape Roger Curtis rocks, the main ingredient can be found, growing in great expanse, and before the waste of many residents spoils the availability of these, they can be harvested and cooked fairly quickly - a delicious seafood dish. Mussels have always been a favourite of mine, and I suppose with living on an island, or near the sea, I've developed a taste for the salty taste of any seafood. It may as well be one of my favourite's, although we don't usually take mussels straight from the rocks. It can be done, and with enough knowledge about which mussels are good to eat, I bet they'd be delicious. Using store-bought or mussels straight from the sea, or even from a local fisherman who knows the rocks well, seafood feasts are great for weekend dinners, parties, and tasty treats.

Mussels in White Wine and Cream Sauce

{Print me here}

{Makes 1lb mussels, which served 3 of us perfectly}

{Ingredients:}

1 lb fresh mussels

2 oz dry, white wine

4oz (118 mL) heavy cream

1 large shallot, diced finely

2 cloves garlic, diced finely

1/3 cup fresh parsley, chopped

{Directions:}

First, wash the mussels in cold running water, doing a quick visual inspection of each mussel. Throw any mussels away that have a cracked or broken shell, feel very light, or are open. Open mussels can be tapped gently on the surface, and fresh ones will close, if they don't, throw them away. Finally, remove any "beards" on the mussels (these are what helps the mussels to hold onto rocks) by pulling up and down to remove. Rinse again, and you're ready to cook!

In a large saucepan with a thick bottom, one that has a tight fitting lid, heat wine, shallots and garlic, and bring to a boil.

Add the mussels, and cover with the lid, lowering the heat to medium-high and cooking for about 5 minutes. At this point the mussels should all be fully open, and should be plump and juicy - careful not to overcook.

Spoon out the mussels into a serving bowl, leaving the liquid in the saucepan. 

Add in the cream and bring to a boil, and then add the parsley before pouring over the mussels.

Serve immediately with freshly baked bread, such as these delicious gluten free Rosemary Garlic Bread Buns which I seem to make every time we have mussels (they're so quick and easy!) and are perfect to dip in the remaining liquid. The shells of eaten mussels can be used as tongs to eat other mussels.

Enjoy! xx S.

Starts with a Chip, and Dip!

Last week I perused through recipes, and trying to decide upon what to make as a simple appetizer for mum's dinner party this weekend, every tab on my iPad was open to a different chef. The recipe I eventually chose, a simple Mexican staple (at least our idea of it), was salsa, but one sneaky ingredient that I didn't know left me puzzled.

The ingredients list had one unfamiliar vinegar, white balsamic vinegar.

"Just perfect, another thing to buy that I'll never use again."

I though to myself, and scanning the grocery shop shelves, I couldn't seem to find it anywhere.

I was the list girl in the never-ending aisles, wandering endlessly up and down, up and down. I felt like I was five years old again and even started to feel the panic of losing your mum in a big, unfamiliar place.

I almost gave up at that point to regular balsamic vinegar, already tucked in the cupboard, and also, barely used.

However, I really am glad that I double checked the aisles, because next to the Balsamic de Modena, an Italian vinegar, and White Cider Vinegar, and across the teas and coffees (I thought it was an odd location at the time), there was just what I was looking for - a clear glass bottle with a transparent, white liquid, that could only be balsamic vinegar.

As I stood in the aisle, I wondered how the two, with a very similar name, could be so different. And so, on my iPhone standing there facing the shelves, I did my research: It turns out that Italian vinegar production has been going on for thousands of years with a process very similar to that of vineyards in the production of making wine. Sweeter grapes are used, and of a much whiter colour, and are pressed into what is called "must" before being simmered for long periods of time (hours) until they thicken into a caramel-like substance. This syrup-y liquid is then portioned into many barrels, made from different types of wood to give the vinegar flavour and the "character" that its label boasts, and then aged. What is called "authentic vinegar" requires an ageing time of at least twelve years, however cheaper balsamic vinegars are not aged for nearly as long and in much larger quantities. The cheapest brands will be mixed with wine vinegar and be coloured by additives.

The white grape must is blended with white wine vinegar and then cooked at a very low temperature, this is required to prevent any darkening. The flavours of dark balsamic vinegar, the kind I always seem to have plenty of in the cupboard, and white balsamic vinegar are quite similar in flavour, despite balsamic vinegar being sweeter and having a more syrup texture. I found the white to be less rich, and also to have much less of an after-taste, which was really lovely in the salsa!

A huge reason that many use white balsamic vinegar in cooking rather than the regular balsamic is to prevent a discolouration. Since balsamic vinegar has such a strong colour and will change the appearance of the dish, white balsamic is used with lighter coloured foods, such as tomatoes and other sauces or dressings. Regular balsamic vinegar could work in this recipe, if you don't mind a darker salsa.

I know it seems like a summer recipe, this salsa, an odd pair to the start of Christmas festivities and decorations today, however, as we would start a dinner party, we shall start off December's posts with a little chip and dip.

Roasted Tomato Salsa
Print recipe here.

A colourful array of vegetables in this wholesome salsa makes a perfect appetizer to any party. The complementary herbs and spices bring about authentic flavours of the tomatoes and onions, and with only a subtle pinch of chile spice, everyone can enjoy this salsa whether served with chips, crackers, or on gluten-free bread as a bruschetta dish.

Ingredients

3-4 c roma tomatoes diced into large chunks
1 small red onion, finely chopped
3 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
200 mL corn kernels, sliced from a cooked corn cob, or for a  
      quicker version, use canned corn kernels

2 tsp dried parsley
2 tsp chile powder

3 tbsp grape seed oil
1/4 c white balsamic vinegar

salt and pepper to season
a few chopped basil leaves to serve

Directions

Preheat the oven to 375°F and place a large baking dish on the side.

Toss the chopped vegetables, corn kernels, dried parsley and chile powder together in the baking dish.

Drizzle the grape seed oil and white balsamic vinegar over top the vegetables, and mix well.

Place the dish in the oven and cook for 30 - 35 minutes, tossing halfway and adding more chile powder if desired upon tasting (Careful! It will be hot!)

Remove from the oven and set aside until completely cooled, store in an airtight container in the fridge, and serve at room temperature with chopped basil and salt and pepper on top.