This blog hasn't received much attention lately and it's not because of disinterest, it's because I don't find as much time and have enough money to try new recipes. I've gotten creative with the same five cheap ingredients I get every week, but it's never anything interesting enough to post.

While I do save during the work week on food, I reward myself once a week with a breakfast/brunch out at a restaurant. This has been ongoing since January 1. Every Sunday (sometimes Saturdays) I venture out to a new restaurant for a benny or hash. These aren't really reviews of the food, but more about tales of my visits and thoughts that transpire in those 30-60 minutes of sitting down.

Read my thoughts. Go eat their food.

Before last year, I was never a big fan of cauliflower. I'd eat it if it was served, but rarely did you see me picking up a head of it from the grocery. Then came the introduction to cauliflower rice. It's not something I have to say everyday, but to say it in my head is still long, so I've termed it crice. So last year was the discovery of crice and this year is the discovery of caulicrust (if shortened like crice, it just becomes crust). It's basically taking crice, then flattening it out on a baking sheet. Bake that crice, sprinkle your pizza toppings and with one more heat bump, you get your Panago solution. It no way gives you a direct substitute to the bouncy soft wheat crust, but it's another means of getting tomato sauce, vegetables and cheese in your mouth in pie form. And if it has to be said for reassurance, it does taste good.

I almost slipped into savings shannon mode when I saw my meat sales at pricesmart today. I may have stood still and in silence for too long in the meat aisle. A heavy internal argument was being had, but in the end I turned away from the double pack of meat. The second argument to convince me going to Windsor Quality Meats wasn't a long ways failed, but an alternative option was given (thank you, yelp). Excited that I had an option closer to home, I ventured to Cioffi's. Like Windsor, I brown bagged a piece of tenderloin. Unlike Windsor, it was pricier. A $3 difference, but I told myself not to judge by the price until I tasted it.

There is a $3 difference, and it's $3 more than it deserves (no thank you, yelp). I shouldn't judge based on one experience at each place, but the cut at Windsor was far better and not that kindness goes into the quality of the meat, but I felt more welcomed by the staff there. Screw distance, I'm going back to Windsor.

No picture. Picture the last steaks I made, but with disappointment.

Because I don't have the money to dress like Gwyneth Paltrow (at the moment), I gave cooking like her a shot a la GOOP. Although, I think it's more accurate to say, I gave cooking like the recipes she posts a shot. Or is it, recipes that are chosen by her team and she approves, then they post? Or is there someone there as her proxy that approves and she never sees them? I don't know, I'm a sucker for anything Gwyneth Paltrow and even if she doesn't hand pick or hand write half of the content, the fact that it has her stamp of approval is good enough for this sheep.

New England Bouillabaisse. I made the trip to the Daily Catch down on Commercial to get some fresh mussels and clams. Fresh mussels they had, canned clams I'd have to settle for. After I threw the halibut stock onto the counter, my total came to $12.50. Throw in the basa fillet I bought a day before and my dinner bill was $14. On par to a meal out, but I didn't have to tip or have to put on pants while I ate.

Aside from realizing the luxury of not having to have clothing restrictions during a meal, this cooking day taught me that I will not be buying frozen mussels ever again.

If you don't find this appetizing, I suggest you look up this recipe on the GOOP site. You'll get a visual of what it's actually supposed to look like or maybe mine does look as it should and that bouillabaisse had to succumb to the Hollywood pressures and someone like Madonna's photo editor had to airbrush out all its fat to reveal its mussel thigh gap. When did a thigh gap become a desirable thing?!

My vegetables looked spectacularly colourful... before I took them out the oven. Grilled them 10 minutes too long and they came out like a mushy mess. And obviously this botched batch was for my entire's week lunch. Five days. Five days straight of shoving the shit job I did in my face and into my mouth.

When it comes to salmon, I don't need anything more than squeezed lemon juice. Unlike my neglected vegetables, I gave all my love and attention to my dear salmon. I can stomach ruined vegetables, but to dry up a piece of salmon would be a sad story that I'd never forget.

Ever since I failed at coconut flour pasta, I've been wanting to redeem myself. I've conquered pasta before. Heck, I made spinach pasta once. That's a few pages into the cuisinart booklet, way past the intro pastas. Not needing to prove myself too much, I wanted to stick to the basics this time. Flour and egg. No funny business. Because I am on a budget these days and can't really be buying full bags of new ingredients, there was a smidge of funny business. I again decided to make do with what I had at home. This is why I say I cannot bake. I tend to enjoy making do with what I have and that often means altering a recipe. Luckily, when it comes to cooking, unlike baking, mods and slight personal adjustments are more forgiving. The mod today was whole wheat flour. The result was pasta that I could ingest. I was hungry and I made something that I could eat. Some may say that was a success. Enjoyment was not part of the requirement.

I will have to fully redeem myself when I run out of whole wheat flour or when someone gifts me white flour.

I'm not going to beat myself up too much. I only half failed at my dinner. It really wasn't a downer that the pasta was terrible, because my tomato sauce took my focus off of it. There's nothing to boast about my tomato sauce. It isn't original. No one will ever talk about it other than me, and I will most likely never offer it to anyone. It's simple, it's dependable and it satisfies me.

Tomato sauce: crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, onions, green peppers, celery, chilli peppers, basil and oregano.
Pasta: whole wheat flour (don't do it!) and eggs.

I am not a baker or any kind of dessert maker. Cookies, muffins, cupcakes, pastries. Fail, fail, fail, fail. I blame it on my disinterest in eating sweets. Let me clarify so no one accuses me of being a liar when they see me with an Oh Henry, because I guarantee that you will catch me with many in my lifetime. What I'm saying is... I think about chips all day. I smell salted fries and my eyes dream and my mouth waters. When someone offers candy, cake or ice cream to me it takes me zero effort to say no. If no one puts any of those items in front of my face, I would not think about them until the next time I see it. And sometimes the thought of something sweet will bring up the need for savoury. But... BUT! There are days when the right chocolate at the right time, just feels so right. There is a certain time in a month that that does happen.

What this is building towards is that I had a very proud dessert making moment. Although it didn't take much skill to pull off, for someone who often burns pillsbury doughboy cookies, these cheesecake phyllo cups with raspberry sauce turned out. That's my standard for my dessert. They turned out.

Note that I served these to friends and my washroom never became the focal point of the evening.
Note two. These were inspired by the cheesecake cups my cousins' grandma made one Christmas. I can promise one thing. You will never hear me adding my own flair to desserts. I will never go off the books.

Supersize Me and Food Inc. did nothing for me. Ageless fries and corn pumped cows were of no concern. It took a satirical headline photo from the Daily Show to care that the health of the animal I eat, affects my health. It's not that I didn't understand it before, but I grew up with the idea that there was prestige in always getting the best deal. Why would I buy one chicken breast for $6 if I could get a pack of 6 for $11? It never occurred to me that I needed to shop for the best deal for my body. I can't remember what the bit was on the Daily Show, but the photo was of four pigs in a pig farm lined up like sardines on their sides. Aside from their pen being filthy, it was just sad to see. That's when I made, what I hope to be permanent, a turn. Educate myself more about the meat (and food in general) I eat. I was given a couple of recommended knowledgeable butchers in town that sell local and ethical meat. It's a bit difficult to visit them during the weekday before closing hour, but I've accepted that I probably shouldn't eat as much meat as I do. So visiting the butcher on the weekend and only bringing home a brown bag enough for one or two meals per week really isn't a deprivation. I'm trading in my previously frozen $10 pack of 4 steaks for one juicy grassfed tenderloin.

First attempt was at Windsor Quality Meats on Main. I was meat shy and didn't inquire as much as I should have about where the meat was from, or what was a good cut for how I was cooking that night. I just pointed at the tenderloin. "Is there a piece you want in particular?" "Uh, just a good one, please." I have a long education ahead of me.

Jamie Oliver walked me through this one. Red wine sauce for my tenderloin and thyme oven roasted carrots. The next night I repeated the sauce and made a fried patty which was originally intended to be coconut flour pasta. Despite the internet telling me that coconut flour makes poor pasta, I wouldn't believe the opinion of many until my dough crumbled all over my pasta maker.

No bread and didn't want to spend money buying bread. Solution: finally use my coconut flour again. The canadian in me was tempted to stray from my plan for a sandwich as I whipped up the batter. I was ready to fry up two eggs and two strips of bacon, and drizzle copious amounts of maple syrup on the cakes. Then I got sad thinking about the unused vegetables. Back to the panwich! And it was pantabulous. The runny egg ran messily all over my hands, but pantabulous!

Pancakes: coconut flour, honey, vanilla, almond milk, salt
Panwich: grilled red peppers and zucchini, runny pan fried egg, spinach, alfalfa sprouts, onion, avocado vinaigrette.
Avocado vinaigrette: avocado, olive oil, sherry, dijon mustard, cayenne pepper, salt