My Favourite Summer Baking with Longing for Marché St. Georges

There are few things I enjoy or remember more about my summer holidays then long afternoons alone or with friends at a cafe. Even if I'm enjoying only one mug of coffee, the act of sitting and drawing out the experience, makes it seem as if I'm drinking coffee "all day." And what could be more relaxing?

We're spoiled here in Toronto -- there is so much good coffee .. here ... here ... here...oh and this one and this one.. this is one of our old stand-bys, where I drank I gigantic up of cinnamon laced coffee served to me in a beer glass and enjoyed and peanut butter and jelly sandwich, all alone. This one is a frequent stop on our bike rides, and this one, just around the corner from me, holds such sentimental value. I've enjoyed solo breakfasts over bottomless coffee here and here, because breakfast treats make the coffee experience that much better, don't you think?

Despite all the wonderful cafes here in Toronto, yesterday, my heart tugged towards to a neighbourhood coffee shop that we went to in Vancouver: Marché St. Georges.  It's tucked away in quiet residential neighbourhood, away from the more stylish, sleek-looking cafes on busier, streets. It's also a market that sells unique products and gifts such as specialty teas, coffees, cookies and an intriguing honey, flavoured with thai chillies. Although the gifts were tempting, we settled on iced coffees and a few treats -- a cherry crumble tart and a butter tart -- and let the late afternoon melt into evening.

But yesterday when I was thinking about Marché St. Georges, it occurred to me that I wanted to have breakfast there, sitting in the patio, slowly enjoying a coffee and something sweet, warm and fruity, in front of some reading material or maybe even some *gasp* planning for September. If anything were to make the prospect of going back to work in a few weeks bearable, it would be breakfast and coffee at Marché St. Georges. But since I'm in Toronto and no longer rambling about the streets and trails of Vancouver, I'll just savour the memories along with my fruity and caffeinated breakfast.

And my breakfast of choice? It would have to be a simple summer fruit crumble. When I got back from Vancouver, there were baskets of sour cherries just begging to be taken home from the farmer's market. Some of them were cooked down and jarred, but most of them went into making this crumble many, many times. In with the cherries, I threw some raspberries, and some chopped rhubarb. A squeeze of lemon would have made sense, but I didn't want to taint that beautiful, almost almond-like flavour of the sour cherries, so I skipped that part. I also skipped the spices I would generally add to a crisp or crumble topping like cinnamon or nutmeg, just to keep things nice and fruity and pure.

I ate this warm, right out of the oven with my coffee, but it was equally as good eaten cold then next day with some yogurt. It was beautiful and the perfect way to wake up on a perfect summer day.

Simple Summer Fruit Crumble
inspired by Joy the Baker
serves 4-6

6 cups of fresh summer fruit, chopped if necessary (berries, cherries, peaches.. go wild)
2 tablespoons of natural cane sugar
1 cup + 1 tablespoon of spelt flour
1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons of rolled oats
1/3 cup of brown sugar
2 tablespoons of maple syrup
3 tablespoons of Earth Balance (or butter)

1. Place your fruit in a large baking dish. Sprinke over the cane sugar, 1 tablespoon of flour and 2 tablespoons of rolled oats. Mix well.

2. In a bowl, stir together the rest of the flour, oats and brown sugar until everything is evenly combined. Add the maple syrup of stir gently.

3. Add the Earth Balance or butter and with your fingers, rub it against the flour mixture until you get a nice coarse meal.

4. Spoon the crumble mixture over the fruit mixture and bake in a 350 degree oven for about 25 minutes or so, or until the crumble is golden brown and the fruit is bubbling up.

A Sure Sign of Spring: Rhubarb

It's still a bit nippy out there. The winds are still whipping by my face in the morning, and I still reach for my pair of fuzzy socks when I'm walking across the cold concrete floors.

But ... spring is definitely on the way. It was warm enough for me to take my hat off this afternoon, the sun peaked at us for more than just a few minutes, and this past weekend, I saw rhubarb in the market. Yup, rhubarb -- those beautiful pinky-red stalks of deliciousness. They are a sure sign of spring. I couldn't resist snatching up a bunch and immediately turning them into something sweet and gooey and tasty. And what could be easier than a crumble?

I mixed my rhubarb with a crisp apple to give it a little sweetness, and added a double dose of ginger -- candied and fresh -- to give this dessert a little spice. It's the perfect mesh of flavours to have while winter melts into spring -- fresh and tangy, warm and spicy. Perfection!

Because I baked this crumble in a smallish baking dish, it ended up being more like a pandowdy -- the top of the crumble topping turned nice and brown and crumbly, but the because it ended up being such a thick layer, the further you went down, the more biscuit-like it turned. Totally fine by me, though. The biscuity parts were tender and tasty and soaked up the rhubarby-gingery juices really well. It was the perfect way to end a meal, and as the original recipe suggests, also perfect served with a dollop of yogurt and alongside a strong coffee for breakfast.

Happy spring!!

Rhubarb Apple Ginger Crumble
adapted from Poppytalk

For the Fruity Part
1 pound of rhubarb (about 4 large stalks)
1 large apple (I used a Jonagold)
1/3 cup of brown sugar
1 tablespoon of minced fresh ginger
1 tablespoon of candied ginger, chopped fine
juice and zest of a lemon

1. Mix all the ingredients in a large pot and heat gently -- stirring frequently. Let the fruity mixture bubble and cook for about 5-7 minutes, or until the rhubarb and apple start to get soft and juicy.

2. Pour the mixture into a baking dish -- keep in mind that if you use a smaller (like 6inch) dish, you'll get pandowdy-like results -- biscuity with a bit of crumble on the top. If you more crumble/crisp- like results, use a larger dish.

For the Topping
1 cup of spelt flour
1/2 cup of rolled oats
1/4 cup of brown sugar
1 tablespoon of minced fresh ginger
1 tablespoon of candied ginger, chopped fine
1/3 cup of butter (I used Earth Balance)


2 tablespoons of maple syrup

1. Mix the flour, oats, sugar and gingers together. Using your fingers, rub the butter into the flour mixture until you get a coarse mealy texture.

2. Add the maple syrup and use a spatula to incorporate into the crumble. Spread the crumble mixture over the fruit mixture.

3. Bake in a 350 degree oven for about 30 minutes, or until the fruit starts bubbling up over the top, and the crumble is nice and golden brown.

Rhubarb, oh Rhubarb

 I'm obsessed with rhubarb. Utterly obsessed. I think it's because I discovered the tangy, fruity goodness of rhubarb only recently. I was never exposed to it as a child -- only in those horrible commercial strawberry rhubarb pies that had a goopy thick filling that was pretty much all sugar and very little fruit. When I first picked up the beautiful green and red stalks at the market, I baked them up into this crumble with raspberries. Ever since then, I was hooked. Last year, I made orange rhubarb madeleines that were fragrant and spongey. I even sneaked a little into last year's strawberry preserves. So this year, when I saw them for $1.99/pound at the market, I indulged .. several times. The most recent, being this roasted strawberry rhubarb upside down cake. It's a combination of two different recipes, and the secret is a big splash of balsamic vinegar mixed in with the fruit as it's roasted.

This cake is awesome. It's simple to make and beautifully moist and lemony. It's the kind of cake that you can whip up for unexpected company, or to cheer you up if you're having a rough weekend. It's probably also perfect for Dad tomorrow and brought over the top with a little dollop of whipped cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I enjoyed mine plain, usually as an after school treat, and when I brought a slice to my stressed-out colleague, she said it made her day a little bit brighter.

There's still rhubarb out there and the local berries are just starting to get beautiful, ripe, juicy and cheap.  Roast your fruit, beat your eggs, pick out some interesting whole wheat flours and find a beautiful organic yogurt to put into this cake. Make someone's day a little bit brighter.

Roasted Strawberry Rhubarb Upside Down Cake
adapted from Joy the Baker and Everybody Likes Sandwiches

1 large, or 2 small stalks of rhubarb, washed and chopped
1 cup of strawberries, washed, hulled and halved
1.5 tablespoons of natural cane sugar
1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegar

2 eggs
1/2 cup of brown sugar
zest and juice of half a lemon
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/4 cup of canola oil
1/4 cup of plain yogurt
1 teaspoon of baking soda
1/2 cup of spelt flour
1/2 cup of whole wheat flour

1. Combine the fruit, cane sugar, and balsamic vinegar in a 9 inch baking pan. Toss well. Roast in a 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until the fruit gets soft and the juices start to bubble and thicken ever so slightly.

2. While you're waiting for the fruit to roast, make the cake. Mix the eggs, brown sugar, lemon juice and zest, vanilla, oil and yogurt in a large bowl. Mix until everything is well-combined. Sift in the flours and baking soda. Mix until just combined.

3. Pour the cake batter over the roasted fruit and pop it back in the oven. Bake for 30ish minutes or until the cake gets a beautiful golden brown and a cake tester inserted comes out clean.

4. Let the cake cool completely. Run a knife along the edge of the cake to loosen it from the pan. Invert a plate on top of the cake. Now flip!  Carefully lift off the baking pan and admire your work. Enjoy in the sunshine.

Fun with Rhubarb

I'm having lots of fun with rhubarb this year. Lots and lots. Last year, I felt like I missed out on the deliciousness of rhubarb. But not this year. In fact, there are still 2 thick, pinky-red stalks in my fridge waiting to be turned into something delicious. I've made strawberry rhubarb crisp a couple times. Very simple: just toss strawberries and rhubarb together with a sprinkling of sugar, some lemon juice and zest, and top with this easy vegan crisp topping. A very perfect summer dessert. I've also made these fantastic, moist, healthy rhubarb and walnut bread/muffins. So delicious. The oatmeal and lemon zest topping really make it special.


But, the most interesting thing I made with rhubarb were these orange rhubarb madeleines. There weren't really supposed to be madeleines, and any traditionalist would probably scoff, but I thought it would be fun to bake up some of the batter in a mini madeleine pan that my love bought for me a while ago. Me and madeleines have a very special relationship. In the name of romance, I sought out a madeleine recipe after studying Marcel Proust's À la Recherche du Temps Perdu in 4th year university. I don't remember much about the book (only that his sentences sometimes took a page to finish!), but I do remember the famous reference to madeleines. Apparently, a taste of the lemony, spongy cookie/cake sent him back to his childhood, where he would have madeleines and dip them into his tea. I found that so romantic and beautiful, and even made them as a parting gift to one my favourite profs who was retiring that year. I used a recipe from my old favourite cookie book, and seeing as the madeleine pan I recently purchased wouldn't fit in the toaster oven that I baked in at the time, I used pretty, shell-shaped moulds instead. They were a great hit with my family, and with my prof, who very much appreciated the gesture.


When I moved out, I searched high and low for the pan, to no avail. One day, I came home to the lovely smell of lemon and butter and two brand new madeleine pans. When I had batter left over from this recipe, I thought it would be so cute and fun to make madeleines instead of muffins. The recipe is tweaked from kickpleat's citrus yogurt cake. I used only orange zest and juice, threw in some oatmeal for extra nutrition, and added a good amount of rhubarb compote. The compote really spread the rhubarb around so that each bite was infused with its tangy goodness. It was perfectly matched with the fruity olive oil, and sweet, frangrant orange juice and zest. I think the madeleines were perfect as they were, but if you wanted a little extra, I would throw in a pinch of cardamom to give it a bit of depth and mystery. Can't go wrong with cardamom, can we?

My rhubarb adventures aren't over yet. Maybe it's time for pie .. I'm afraid of pie ... but maybe, just maybe ...?

Rhubarb Orange Madelines
adapted from Everybody Likes Sandwiches and poppytalk

Rhubarb Orange Compote:
2 stalks of rhubarb, chopped
3 tablespoons of sugar
1/4 cup of orange juice

Cake:
3/4 cup of skim milk yogurt
1/4 cup of orange juice
zest of one large orange
1/3 cup of olive oil
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/2 cup of sugar
1/2 cup of rolled oats
1 egg, beaten
1.5 cups of whole wheat pastry flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
a pinch of salt

1. To make the compote, combine all the ingredients in a small saucepan and heat over medium until the mixture bubbles. Turn the heat down to medium-low and simmer with the lid on, stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb breaks down (about 10ish minutes). Set aside

2. In a large bowl, combine the oats with the yogurt and orange juice. Let stand for 10 minutes. Add the zest, oil, egg, sugar and vanilla, and whisk to combine.

3. Sift in the flour, baking powder and salt and stir gently until just combined. Add the rhubarb compote and mix well.

4. Spoon the batter into a madeleine pan, and pour the rest into muffin tins or a mini loaf pan. Bake in a 350 degree oven. The madeleines or muffins should only take about 10-15 minutes. The mini-loaf should take about 20 minutes.

5. Enjoy with a good book and a cup of tea.

Ooooooops.. some very tasty miscalculations

Ok, I'm going to say it. I'm a bit uptight. Whew. That was hard to admit -- but like all things that make us stronger, admitting our weaknesses is good in the long run. Like that time in high school when the good-looking guidance counsellor suggested that if I hated math, I might not want to go into the science field. I was furious at first. He didn't know me! I was going to be a scientist and that was that. Math was just something I'd have to deal with or learn to like. A year later, I was lining up at 8:00am in the morning with a note from my Mommy asking the ex-cop VP if I could swap Algebra/Geometry for Writers Craft, and switching my university dreams from University of Toronto to York University. Mr. New-Guy-Guidance was right. I didn't want to admit it, but in the end, I did. And I wholeheartedly regret not telling him.

But I'm off topic! My uptightness, yes. I'm a little uptight. (Sorry for getting mad when you told me before!) Sometimes, I plan everything out, and it all works out. Other times, I have a perfect plan that doesn't follow through. Though I've had a pretty good coping strategy, I'm pleased to say that I'm learning to make the best out of a situation that comes about unplanned instead of just accepting the consequences as is.

For example, last week, I made a this beautiful roasted tomato pasta salad to take to a barbecue party. The recipe called for a vinaigrette made with lemon juice, mustard, balsamic vinegar, olive oil and honey. Yum! Fabulous combination that tasted awesome. However, when I assembled the salad, I found that my tomatoes that had been roasting with balsamic vinegar, olive oil and garlic, produced lovely juices that reduced nicely in the oven, and coated the pasta perfectly. What did that mean? My lovely little bowl of vinaigrette went unused. Instead of putting plastic wrap over the bowl and leaving it in the back of the fridge for a month, which I would have probably done before, I surprised my partner by using it to marinate some chicken thighs. "Look what the balsamic vinegar did for the chicken!" he exclaimed when searing them off. I smiled proudly when I saw a yummy-looking, caramelly crust on the outside of the chicken. We'll definitely be doing this one again!

Balsamic Roasted Chicken

2 teaspoons of grainy mustard
juice of one lemon
1.5 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon of olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
4 chicken thighs
1/4 cup of broth or water
2 sprigs of thyme

1. Prepare the marinade by whisking together the lemon juice, mustard, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper.

2. Place the chicken thighs in a large dish and pour over the marinade. Turn the chicken several times in the marinade so that everything gets coated evenly. Let it sit in the fridge for at least an hour.

3. Heat some olive oil in a stainless steel pan until smoking. Place your chicken thighs carefully in the pan, making sure that you let any excess marinade drip off. Save the remaining marinade for later. Sear the chicken thighs for about 3-4 minutes on each side until a nice, dark, sticky crust forms.

4. Remove the chicken from the pan and let it rest for a few minutes. In the meantime, add the remaining the marinade and broth/water to the pan and let it reduce a bit, making sure you scrap up the yummy, balsamicy bits from the bottom. Add the sprigs of thyme.

5. Put the chicken back in the pan and place in a 350 degree oven for about 15 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through.



Example number 2 (hey, I'm getting less uptight already!): For an outdoor dinner with my parents, I was going to make the best strawberry and rhubarb crumble. The best. That's what kickpleat said so I had to give it a try. I had 3 lovely stalks of rhubarb begging to be used up. However, when I went to the market, there were no more Ontario strawberries. Instead of sulking in disappointment or breaking down and buying those gigantic California strawberries, I looked to the local fruit that replaced the strawberries on the shelf: beautiful, delicate, ripe raspberries. I had never really baked with fresh raspberries before, let alone combine it with rhubarb. It didn't seem like a good idea at first -- tart rhubarb + tart raspberries ... ? I gave it go, and thought, if we're going with "tart" we're going all the way. I added a big dose of lemon, popped it in the oven and hoped for the best. Result? Bubbly, crumbly, very tart, lovely raspberry flavour and a hit with my family. Yup, definitely the best.

Raspberry Rhubarb Crumble
adapted from Everybody likes Sandwiches

3 stalks of rhubarb - chopped
1/2 pint of fresh raspberries
juice of half a lemon juice
1/3 cup of sugar
1 teaspoon of corn starch

1/2 cup of flour
1/2 cup of ground almonds
1/4 cup of oats
zest and juice and half a lemon
2 tablespoons of honey
1 tablespoon of brown sugar
1/4 cup of canola oil

1. Placed the chopped rhubarb and raspberries in a baking dish. Sprinkle over the lemon juice, corn starch and sugar. Toss so that all the fruit is coated.

2. Prepare the crumble by first mixing together the flour, ground almonds and oats. Add the honey, brown sugar, oil, lemon zest and juice and stir until a crumble forms.

3. Spread the crumble evenly over the fruit. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes or until the crumble gets golden brown and the fruit gets bubbly. Pucker up and get ready for a bite!