Changing Neighbourhoods

I've been MIA for awhile. Have I stopped cooking? No and I certainly haven't stopped eating.

There have been many changes happening in this household and many many blessings that have been coming our way. One big one is we will be moving from Ottawa. It's a welcome move but a fixed date has not been set. Sometime between June and August.

We'll miss our neighbours, our neighbourhood, our good friends who have hopped over to our house in their pyjamas from across the street.

Every year, around Easter, bunnies start hopping across the lawn. The maples unfurl their leaves and shade the house from the hot summer sun. Our neighbourhood is wrapped in greenery that gives each of us a private oasis in the summer.

I will miss the cedar deck that my father in law built. That will be the hardest part, since I know he put so much heart into it.

But it is time to move on - I only hope that whoever buys our house will love it and the neighbourhood as much as we have loved it for 15 years. It's a good place.

On another note...

I am having huge difficulties with my gmail account and every time I open it, my browser crawls to a stop. Anybody know how to fix this? Spammers, please don't suggest any enhancements - it certainly won't help.

Snow Day

For the first time I can remember, God declared a snow day.

Snow days are the holiday highlight of all children. And, to tell the truth, I still love a snow day. School buses are cancelled because of the dangerous driving conditions; that means that a good 100% of the children beg their parents to keep them home from school for the day. When nature takes it one step further, the schools have to be closed.

If we are lucky enough that the schools are closed, each child suits up in the morning and plays outside in conditions deemed too dangerous for learning.

Curiously, it's strangely peaceful. There is no traffic. Only the shrieks of overjoyed children and the wind howling can be heard as the children tumble and wade through the snow.

Most businesses gear down, since everyone knows that if we aren't taking care of our children, we are having fun lobbing snow balls at our neighbours.

This past week we received over 80 cm of snow (almost three feet). Neighbours pitched in to clear the snow and grind away at the snow plow deposit of grimy ice at the end of the driveways.

It's a great time to slow down and appreciate your family and neighbours - and we have great neighbours.

But for the first time I can ever remember, church services were reduced and/or cancelled. I guess God really did focus us on our priorities.

Zucchini Heaven

I am awash in a sea of zucchini. It is a modern miracle because no zucchini has followed me home from the grocery store recently and my garden is a barren wasteland thanks to some fat neighbourhood raccoons. My suspicions are turning to some of the most kind generous and sneaky neighbours on this side of the Rockies.

After some long lazy summer days, we had been chatting with our neighbours and catching up with each other’s lives. In one of these casual conversations I innocently mentioned that my family and I love zucchini. Not long afterward zucchini began anonymously appearing on my doorstep. One behemoth weighed five pounds! We are thinking of saving it for Halloween and carving it instead of a pumpkin or adopting it as the youngest member of our family.

There are only two approaches to cooking zucchini. The first is a favourite among zucchini lovers. It not only enhances zucchini flavour, it puts zucchini on centre stage. The secret is to brown, grill or fry the zucchini at high heat and salt it so the flavour is accented. The second approach is the slight of hand where you sneak grated zucchini into other dishes and deny that it ever existed.

Zucchini gratin, zucchini fritters, stuffed zucchini and battered zucchini cause my family to drool with anticipation. Chocolate zucchini cake, zucchini muffins and chili with zucchini are my way of making healthy food that I’m sure my children appreciate. To be honest, I’m forced by the sheer magnitude of the zucchini wave lapping at my doorstep to invent new and interesting ways to serve zucchini. I’m resorting to sneaking it into every dish and hoping that no one notices.

As he was handing over a few zucchini, one of my neighbours admitted to me that his opinion of cows has been elevated to new levels since he discovered that…NOT EVEN COWS WILL EAT ZUCCHINI…. since he is obviously not a zucchini lover, I sent my daughter over with chocolate zucchini cake in an anonymous brown paper bag marked with a big “Z”. We also have new neighbours moving into their home this week. I’m thinking it would be mighty neighbourly of me to share the bounty.

For others in zucchini distress, I’m including one of our favourite methods of serving zucchini. Feel free to experiment as much as you like; zucchini is a forgiving palette. Just make sure your oil is at the right temperature and fries everything to a golden colour.

Zucchini Fritters

1 lb of grated zucchini 1 cup flour
2 tsp baking powder 2 chopped green onions
Handful of fresh sage – chopped (whatever herb you like best)
1 egg

oil for frying
salt
wedges of lemon

Mix together the first six ingredients. Pour oil to a 1 cm depth into frying pan and heat on the stove top. Test the oil temperature by putting in a small drop of zucchini batter. If bubbles form around the mixture and it puffs and becomes golden; your oil is hot enough. Drop dollops of zucchini into the oil and flatten them slightly to make small patties. Turn over once they are golden on the bottom. When they are golden brown, remove them to drain on a paper towel. Sprinkle them with salt and serve with wedges of lemon.

If you are wondering, yes, I still love zucchini. I’m thankful for each one that appears on my doorstep. However, just in case anyone is interested, what I REALLY love is seafood and chocolate.

Raccoon Plumbing ... Plumming

No plums this year. This poor tree has been decimated by raccoons once again.

Almost every evening last week a family of raccoons would amble up to our sliding patio door. They would peer into the glass and chirrup for a bit of supper. When they spied us coming to the door they would come closer but we would chase them away. Raccoons are cute but very destructive. Besides, they are not very discriminating gourmands. They will just as readily dive into an unattended a garbage can as rush to watch us smoking our barbecue.

So the raccoons were pretty miffed because we weren't providing take out meals. They weren't used to be given the cold shoulder. I suspect that a few people think they are really cute and toss them a few victuals. Hence, the raccoons turned their attention to our poor plum tree.

Last year when we came home from vacation our tree looked as if a mad hacker had cut off a third of the branches. The cuts were so sharp I even asked my neighbour if he had been trimming our tree at night. That's not such a strange request since our neighbour is very skillful with the hedge trimmers. Skillful yes but nuts no.

The idea of raccoons chomping on the branches never crossed my mind. Until one night I heard loud chewing. I grabbed the spotlight and pointed it toward the tree. Raccoons were swinging from the branches, chewing the branches and dropping them to the ground. Once the branches dropped, the racccoons would eat the fruit off the branches from the ground.

This year I hoped it would be different. But the tree was battered once again. You would think I could pick the plums before they were eaten but they weren't ripe.

I hope they get the runs.

I apologized to my neighbour.

Happy Feet vs. Linux

There are some budding entrepreneurs in my neighbourhood. On nice Saturday mornings some of the kids haul out their used toys in hope that someone will buy them and fund the purchase of newer more desirable toys. The newer toys in question are sometimes purchased from the table two driveways down and around the corner. It’s a nice thriving little economy.

One little neighbour was doing a great job for two hours on Saturday but there were a few leftovers. One leftover was a stuffed penguin. To his father, it looked like a Linux logo but to me the penguin looked like Lovelace the guru in the film Happy Feet - without the six pack ring necklace. Marketing is everything; so I went back home and pried a six pack ring off a pack of pop. The kids thought it was a great idea but no buyer stepped up to the plate. Now the young entrepreneur is keeping the more attractive accessorized penguin to the detriment of our local economy.

The last we heard, the penguin was freed from its inhumane necklace.

Rhubarb Leaves are Poisonous

My mother always had rhubarb in the garden. We would get a bowl of sugar and eat a stalk of rhubarb, dipping the stalk into sugar after every bite. We would alternately pucker in mock agony over the tart taste and reach for more.

When I left home, I abandoned rhubarb as a tortured treat; however my new family home had a colossal rhubarb plant in the garden. What do you do with 10 pounds of rhubarb? Eat five pounds of sugar? I would harvest the rhubarb and foist it onto our neighbours. I split the root and redistributed it among friends. I transplanted the plant to a neglected place in the garden to curtail its fertility. It took me years to learn to cook with rhubarb and appreciate its unique taste. Now the shoe is on the other food and I have a neighbour who has no ideas about rhubarb. This recipe is dedicated to him.

Rhubarb Sour Cherry Compote This sauce has a more sophisticated pucker factor and is fantastic with French vanilla ice cream.

2 cups/250 mL of rhubarb stalks, sliced thinly
2 cups/250mL GF sour cherries in syrup
1 cup/250 mL white sugar
2 tablespoons/30 mL cornstarch + 2tbsp/30 mL cold water

Put first three ingredients, sliced rhubarb, sour cherries, and sugar into a heavy saucepan. Stir until sugar dissolves. Cook over medium heat until it begins to bubble. Reduce the heat and simmer until rhubarb is tender.

Mix 2 tablespoons/30 mL of cold water with the cornstarch. Once the rhubarb is tender, add this to the mixture. The mixture will appear cloudy. Cook, while stirring, until the mixture becomes clear and thickens. Remove from heat.

...
Dear neighbour. Thank you for the offer of the rhubarb. I helped myself. I know you are unfamiliar with this vegetable since it isn't native to your country. I thought this recipe would help you the next time you are inundated with rhubarb. Thank-you kind neighbour for your generosity. Oh... that pile of leaves I left should be discarded. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you that rhubarb leaves are poisonous.