Manchego and Membrillo

The trip to Barcelona could have gone in many different directions, but the two boys under five and the 27 week pregnant belly set the tone. No long lingering meals in tapas bars washed down with sips of Rioja. No cava with my Serrano ham. No Neil Young under the stars at the Primavera music festival. No ‘once in a lifetime’ meal at El Bulli.

But that’s ok. When your ankles look like stuffed sausages, afternoons under the olive tree by the pool aren’t so bad.

Before dinner we’d put a tray of local cheeses together – Mato de Montserrat, Garrotxa, and Manchego. The smell of verbena filled the air and fat lemon slices - fresh from the tree- bounced in my aqua. And the ankles were elevated. Muy bien.

Manchego is a slightly salty cheese, but the taste depends on maturity. The Spanish love to pair it with its best friend, dolce de membrillo. Together, the two become more than the sum of their parts.

Membrillo is a sweet paste made from quince. It’s sold at cheese counters in blocks and placed along cheese on a cheese board. We bought this one at Boqueria in Barcelona. Layer it upon fresh bread and a slice of manchego, and really, we’d practically forget there were boys beneath our deck chairs playing with plastic soldiers.

freestyle puff pastry

There's nothing like the infectious enthusiasm of fresh passion.

This morning I was swimming lengths with my fellow cougars. Every 50 meters coach Gary, (AKA 1976 Olympic swimmer who's just discovered his kitchen) would shout out something about puff pastry.
Or knife cuts.
Or a restaurant he'd like to visit. Had I been there?
I love it. I get to stop hyperventilating while simultaneously reflecting on why the puff pastry covering his chicken pot pie didn't last well in the freezer. 50 meters later I figured it out. He thawed it, then froze it again. No double freezing Gary. Then he tells me not to lift my hands too high while doing the crawl. I look like a synchronized swimmer circa 1986.

Through it all I learn about feeling the water. Some hands are better at finding slow water to pull -the slower it is, the more control we have over pulling through it. when it's done properly, it's artistry.

Kind of like cooking.

CBC radio's the current recently aired a documentry on the subject- the art of feeling water, that is:

"There is a certain kind of person who is a little different from the rest of us. They exist on land, like the rest of us but they live ... thrive in the water. On land, you might pass them by. in water their movements are strong, graceful and intuitive. They can take our breathe away.
The Current's Chris Wodskou is not one of those people. But he wanted to find out what makes them tick especially elite athletes in aquatic sports such as swimming, diving and synchronized swimming ... people whose success depends on how well their minds and bodies can mesh with water. And so this morning our Watershed series submerges itself in their world. Chris Wodskou's documentary is called Water Babies.

http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/2009/200904/20090430.html

I'm no elite athelete, but I can trade cookbooks for coaching.

chicken and eggs

According to the calendar, it's spring. But fresh snow is on the ground. Never mind. It's time to start thinking about new life. Eggs are the perfect vehicle in which to do so.

Carbonara. Whisked eggs tossed through hot pasta. Sizzling bacon with its fat. Parmesan cheese. Pine nuts if you have them. Chopped parsley if you need colour.

Apparently I'm not the only one thinking about eggs. My cousin Claire Cameron, a writer living in Toronto who happens to have blogged on chicken coops in her 'hood, has noticed a surge in traffic on her site. City dwellers want hens in their gardens.

Claire's site.