Comfort and Joy

I'm tired when I finally arrive back at home, and want nothing more than to sit, relax, and enjoy that it's the end of the day.  Well, perhaps a bit more than nothing more... a glass of wine and good smells coming from the kitchen are also a nice touch.  Home is where the heart is, so they say, and home is where all my stuff is according to the late, great George Carlin.

Home is my soft place to land, where my comfort lives, and where I get to get comfortable.
 
There has been a lot of talk for the past few years about comfort foods and how people crave them, even possibly need them.  I know I do.  Whether it's a matter of outta-sync hormones, or a busy day stressing about stuff, or crappy weather, or even just ingesting too many diverse and fancy foods -- all of which could contribute to this feeling of having to self-medicate by eating; it's a fact, research hasn't quite pinpointed the exact cause, but it is scientifically acknowledged nowadays as a real phenom.  And we all eat at funerals.

Sometimes I really, really, want comfort food.  And there are times I know I actually need comfort food.

But what is it?  Everyone has their favourite indulgence, either based on childhood memories or a singularly memorable meal, or particular flavours they love.  It should be fairly simple (although it may take a while to prepare), maybe a bit rustic or peasanty.  Cheese seems to be required, or at least a creamy texture somewhere, and carbohydrates -- lots and lots of carbs, presented in bread or rice or potatoes or ice cream.  Which explains why fast food is so prolific, in its attempts to replicate comfort food and the fact that it is readily available.  However, if Tom wants sauerkraut soup, Mickey D's is not going to dish it up for him, and I've never found fastnachts at Tim's prepared the way my Mennonite grandmother made.  For most of us, if we want our comfort food we either move back in with Mom and Dad (unlikely, as they're relishing their retirement in unlikely ways), or figure out how to make it ourselves before curling into a fetal position.

Luckily, there are grown-up, sophisticated comfort foods to alleviate our hungry angst and disguise our childish behaviour.  It's called pasta.

Think about it, what's not comforting about pasta?  Carbs, sauce (creamy if you like), cheese, rustic, and simple.  It tastes good, it fills you up, and if you make it yourself it's cheap (so you can stop stressing about that)!

When Tom thinks he needs to make me comfort food, he turns to pasta.  And when I thought it couldn't get any better than having a thoughtful, caring husband making me comfort food, he got a pasta machine and started cranking out homemade pasta.  Wow.

There is nothing better than fresh pasta.  Forget the stuff the supermarket tries to pass off as fresh, forget even Vincenzo's lovely, lovely stuff.  Fresh is better.  Way better.

Tom's Home made Carbonara

Here's what he did to make Carbonara.  For the pasta he mixed 2 cups of flour, 3 eggs plus 1 yolk in the food processor, scraped out the dough ball, wrapped it tightly in plastic and let it sit in the fridge for about forty-five minutes to get it relaxed.  The dough was then put through the pasta machine on the #7 setting a few times to knead it, then setting the machine consecutively lower each pass all the way down to the #2 setting.  After dusting the sheets with flour, he stacked them, rolled them, and then cut them into noodles and let them dry while starting the sauce.  

A few slices of prosciutto were chopped and fried crisp, then taken out of the pan and drained on a paper towel.  At the same time, he started boiling salted water for the pasta.

While the pasta was cooking (which only takes a couple of minutes, as it's fresh-made), he melted 2 tablespoons of butter in the first pan and then tossed in the finished pasta.  Over all he poured a mixture of 2 eggs that were whisked with 1/4 cup of half and half cream, and then sprinkled a couple of heaping spoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese.  After tossing and cooking this for about two minutes, he added the crispy prosciutto.  Just before serving, he finished the plate with chopped parsley.  All in all, it took about an hour to prepare right from scratch -- but if the pasta was pre-made, the time would be cut to about 15 minutes, tops.

So easy, so satisfying, and so right....this is heavenly!

Crab Cakes

The view from here

I had been craving some good seafood for a while, but Tom kept complaining about the price...and he's right, it can be very expensive.  As with most of the meals we make, we want quality, fresh ingredients to cook a memorable dinner -- not that there aren't times when kd and wieners will suffice -- but seafood, well, it's gotta be good.

We are lucky (some would say spoiled) to have an excellent fishmonger around the corner from our home, Caudle's Catch, so he stopped in the other morning to see what was on tap (hah, what was on sale), and came back with a small plastic tub of fresh wild crab flakes.  Really, I thought?  Peeling  back the lid, however, removed any doubts as the scent was incredibly delish; you could almost smell the sea!

Funny thing, though, as he was chatting with our neighbour Ruprick later in the day, they realized that they'd just missed each other at the store.  It turned out that Ruprick bought halibut and some prepackaged batter stuff and was planning a nice supper for his lovely Newfie wife.  This detail is important later in this post.

Anyways, Tom kept griping about the price -- $13.00 for about one pound of crab flakes -- and I kept telling him to knock it off and make me the best crab cakes ever!

He began with about half a pound of the crab dressed in an old bay spice that he'd concocted (including coriander seeds, all spice, paprika, dry mustard, cloves, mace, bay leaves of course: using an old electric coffee grinder to grind 'em up), lemon juice and zest, and worcestershire sauce.  After letting that stand for a few minutes, he added just enough mayonnaise and Panko breadcrumbs to develop a soft pattie consistency, and then pressed the patties in fresh breadcrumbs to coat them for a crust base.

By the way, did you know that the best way to clean an electric coffee grinder (that is, when it's been used for grinding things other than coffee) is to whiz bread and/or bread crumbs through it?  It works.

Back to the cooking...I was assigned to salad duty, as I am, as he says, "the salad queen" (I know, I know, but somebody's gotta do it), so I created a dazzling baby spinach and arugula greek-style frisee to offset the sweetness of the crabcakes.  Tossed with an olive oil vinaigrette, a few cherry tomatoes, slices of black olives, red onion and some feta cheese -- yum!

Next, he made the dip by whisking together mayonnaise and roasted garlic (yeah, we're crazy, and we often have that handy in the fridge), adding horseradish and some hot pepper sauce.  A little salt and pepper and voilá, good eats!

Tom gently fried the crabcakes in a little bit of oil, I poured the chardonnay and set the table, and we enjoyed another lovely April evening.

Crab cakes with Roasted Garlic Dip and Greek-style Spinach and Arugula Salad

Oh, and Ruprick?  Turns out he had bought haddock, not halibut, and the packaged breading mix was crap.  Ooops.