Phew

What I discovered about myself this week: I can make it approximately 3 days on my own without losing my mind with the girls, and I am a wuss for only making it 3 days. It was an exhausting week with Hubby out of town for work.

Then, on Thursday, I ran into a girl that I knew from high school. Turns out she only lives a few blocks from me. And she is a new mom, with an adopted 14 month old. Oh, and her husband is stationed in Afghanistan with the Forces so she is doing the single mom thing - all the time. I am in awe of women (and men) who can handle life alone like that. You definitely need good support systems.

This week, thankfully, my neighbours were home so they were able to come over once and watch the baby while I ran out. If I didn't have them I don't know what I would do! Especially this week when our phone and internet went out and was only fixed today. They were also some friends simply to talk to.

On the plus side, I did take as much time as I could to sew - during naps. Today I finished the top of this quilt. I liked this picture so much that I am posting it first. After no internet for nearly a week I have to play catch up with my posts. And while finishing it today I came up with the name: Inspired Improvisation.

Backseat Adventure - The Italian Centre Shop (Edmonton)

Every good Italian thing - like pancetta, caciocavallo, the best sandwiches in the world, and canolli - is worth a road trip. Shortly after Hubby and I got married we moved across the city, a mere 5 minute drive to what is arguably the best grocery store in the world - the original Italian Centre Shop. Aside from the farmers' market and milk from the chain grocery store, we bought everything else we ate from this store. Tucked into an inner city neighbourhood this corner of Italy (and Europe) brought us great gastronomical, social, and aesthetic (you should have seen the boys in the deli) pleasure.

The Italian Centre Shop was one of the things we missed the most about Edmonton when we moved to Calgary 5 years ago. There are good Italian shops here, but they weren't quite the same. Not in character, not in food, but maybe still with the boys in the deli. Sure, the aisles were too narrow and there never really is a downtime, but it is a special place.

Since we moved a second Italian Centre Shop opened in Edmonton, on the southside of town. Conveniently, it is located a mere 5 minute drive from my mother-in-law. This saves me the traffic and construction congestion to get through downtown to the original location.

Arguably, the character at the second location is just not the same. Having made a few trips there I can say that it is improving. Lack of character is more than made up for with wider aisles and the bakery alone.

Sadly, the boys in the deli are not there either. Of course, I have to say that knowing that my brother-in-law's nephew now works there. He and a bunch of older men and women. Either way, the staff are knowledgeable and generally friendly. They are quick to offer a sample if you are curious about one of the nearly 50 cheeses they carry. And, more importantly, they are quick to give you cooking advice. Pick up your number and catch the drool while they wait to serve you.

I must confess that I went a little crazy when I was there. My mother-in-law bought olives, olive oil, and feta - exactly what she came there for. I controlled myself at the deli, buying only some panchetta, proscuitto parma, caciocavallo cheese, and montasio cheese. Then I bought a few bottle of oil, some balsamic vinegar, cookies, even pop. The cart got a little crowded for the baby. And Hubby was none too happy about packing it all for the trip back to Calgary

It was all the start of something good. After our regular Sunday morning market visit I made roasted brussel sprouts with pancetta for dinner. Yesterday I made proscuitto wrapped melon for moms' group. The Monster loved the pancetta, not surpising as it is a close cousin to bacon - one of the only meats she will eat these days. She wasn't a fan of the proscuitto parma. I plan to simply nibble on the remainder of the caciocavallo throughout the week and make some fricos with the montasio cheese, although I haven't decided between apple or swiss chard.

Back at the store we finished our shopping with lunch. This location has a cafe attached, aptly named Spinelli's after the owners. We indulged in the best sandwich ever - salami, spicy capicola, ham, provolone, and hot vegetable spread all on a ciabatta. Lucky for us the Monster didn't want anything but her brownie. That meant we didn't have to share and she happily munched away on her completely indulgent lunch. And if I drank coffee I'm sure this cappuccino would have finished things off nicely, my mother-in-law thought so. I was just excited to get home and cook.

Sources:
The Italian Centre Shop
Original Location: 10878 95 Street 780-424-4869
South Location: 5028 104A Street 780-989-4869

Mine! Mine! Mine!

There is that moment in time that every parent dreads in the development of their toddler - the Mine! stage. When the fork you are using, when the book you are reading, when the toy the other little girl is playing with, or when the quilt on the bed is always "Mine!" to your kid. It's exhausting to chase them arround attempting to extol the virtues of sharing or explaining that other people need those things to eat, mow their lawn, or move. It's infuriating when they can't grasp it, even though we should know better and realize an 18 month old doesn't necessarily know any better themself. So we follow behind them, chastising them as much as we can and apologizing profusely to the man whose cane she tried to steal or the little boy whose cookie she took.

I will not, however, apologize for my upcoming bit of selfishness. You see, I am painfully addicted to my cherry jam. Rather, to cherry jam with ricotta on toast. I could eat this every day, two or three times a day. The only thing that stops me from doing this is supply.

Sure, you can get cherry jam in the store. Most of it is imported from Europe and is quite chunky and thick. I find it all rather cloying, but it will work in a pinch. This summer I was inspired and decided to make my own. So far I've made three batches and I still worry whether there will be enough to get me to the next cherry season.

Making the jam, while time-consuming - was actually quite easy. I even decided to try it without using the pre-made pectin. I thought I was rather brave, having used Certo my entire life. With a little bit of searching I came across a post by the ice cream guru David Lebovitz. It was all coming together.

Following his basic directions I pitted all my cherries (with my paring knife), cooked them down a little, measured, then added sugar and boiled away. Then I put them in my specially bought jars. (Smart me bought new jars of a different shape for all my cherry jam. That way there can be no mistake between the cherry I love and the strawberry for the Monster and raspberry for Hubby.) A half hour later I realized that the jam was not going to set. So I emptied the jars back into the La Creuset, quartered an apple for some added pectin, and boiled again. Success this time. So I tried again with cherries and peaches. Yesterday I decided that I didn't have enough in the pantry and made another batch of plain cherry.

Instead of rationing my supply, I will enjoy it all. The Monster and Hubby will not. They are not allowed to touch my cherry jam. And yes, I will have a temper tantrum if I see their fingers or spoons even in the vicinity of my cherry jam. Maybe the Monster will shake her finger at me and tell me to share, and maybe I will. Likely I won't. It is all mine, mine mine.

Black Currant Adventures

When travelling with a toddler it is important to note the difference between fruit farms and farms with animals. A few weeks ago a girlfriend and I saddled up all the girls (she has two as well) and went south to Okotoks for a morning at Kayben Farms. This was exciting for us moms, but a great let down for the Monster when she realized that, other than the black cat hanging out by the cash register, this farm did not have any animals.

That being said, the girls were troupers and worked up a good amount of excitement for berry picking. We were too late for strawberries but the black currants stood ready for us. The excitement lasted oh, about two minutes. At that point A (my friend's oldest) decided that black currants were gross and the Monster hated getting her arms scratched by the bushes.

My girlfriend and I stuck to it - hell we weren't giving up without a fight and at least a half a bucket of black currants. We gave the girls snacks and sent them off to pick flowers/weeds. In between policing them and making sure the babies were happy we managed to get about a half bucket. By then the girls were done with the field. We headed back to the main building, drooled over flowers, and treated the girls to a black currant slush.

I headed home with all the black currants, armed with great intent to turn them into something. I'm not a fan of jelly, preferring jam. After boiling down the currants with some water and straining them overnight I was left with 10 cups of tart juice. What to do? What to do? To be honest, I couldn't decide so I just froze the juice.

After seeing Julie's post about blackcurrant sorbet and ginger ale floats and my current fixation with the ice cream maker I thought about ice cream or sorbet. My original thought was syrup, but I was having a hard time finding instructions or a recipe. Then I saw a show on Vermont and they, of course showed a sugar shack. Hmm, you make syrup by boiling the crap out of the sap. I decided that's what I would do with the black currant juice.

First I had to find bottles. A few trips to restaurant supply stores and Canadian Tire came up with nothing. Then my mother-in-law suggested a winemaking store. Jackpot! A dozen 375 mL bottles with plastic, reusable stoppers.

It turns out buying a dozen bottles was optimistic. My 10 cups of juice, after an hour of boiling, turned into about 900 mL of thick syrup. Well, not quite syrup yet. I added in 3 cups of brown sugar, a half cup at a time. It is still a bit tart, but I didn't want it sickingly sweet.

All that's left it to make pancakes for dinner and enjoy our labour.

Sources:
Kayben Farms
Winemakers Wine Co 403-258-1200