Harvest Season Begins - Clauer Hoffest

Somewhere I once read that in Japan, the women all change their outfits on one undeclared day, heralding the arrival or Spring. How a season can arrive on one day is a mystery to me; I'm used to seasons slowly creeping into the next. Take Fall for example. Fall is the harvest time in Germany, a season in which vintners go painstakingly through their vineyards to start production for the next release of wine. This is not the case in Germany this year. The summer has bled into the harvest and created a very hospitable environment to enjoy the harvest.

This year, we enjoyed the harvest with a local, family-run vintner, with the party they threw.

Frankly, the Workaholic and I have both been exhausted in the last little while and we were reluctant to take public transit to the middle of nowhere, walk on the side of a country road and rely on the GPS of our smart phones to get us to our ultimate destination. But the Heidelberg Crowne Plaza set up an oyster stand. I was willing to get lost in the woods for the promise of succulent oysters and sparkling wine. Thankfully, both the Crowne Plaza and the Clauer Sekt lived up to my expectations.

After a walk that lasted eternity, walking in the ditch, against oncoming traffic, we arrived amid a field of retro-tractors. These, although amusing, were not Sekt and oysters. I quickly surveyed the surroundings, found a sign and was in my happy place. There are places I need orientation and there are places with sparkling wine. The 2 groups are normally mutually exclusive.

Wine and festival: we ran into friends, shared some wine and danced to a swing quartet. A decent party by any measure. Are we ready to return? Perhaps next year. We may have a better idea of how to get there on the train.

Clauer Wine: http://www.weingutclauer.de/
Public Transit to Clauer Vineyard: Grab a bunch of friends and split a taxi.

The Lady who Lunches

Last week, surrounded by great self-made fanfare, I returned to my blog. Now I am faced with a few harsh realities:

1. days are getting shorter leaving less daylight hours to take photographs of food
2. taking pictures of your food at the work cafeteria makes you look like a weirdo
3. the "Program" the Workaholic insists on following is restrictive (it's a program, not a diet)
4. I spend a lot of time cooking as a result of aforementioned Program

Last week had a few fun lunches that were relatively easy:

• the homemade summer rolls
• a chickpea and arugula salad
• a quinoa and black bean salad
• black bean salad with fresh corn, avocado and tomatoes

The chickpea and arugula salad has been a mainstay of the program. Easy to prepare and it keeps overnight.
Contents:
chickpeas (from a can, then drained)
arugula
chopped tomatoes
chopped grilled eggplant & zucchini
(tip: grill a bunch of things & add to sandwiches, salads or dinner through the week)
chopped red onion
red wine vinegar
olive oil




Part of the pleasure of bringing my own lunch when we have a fully catered canteen is the reaction of my coworkers. When I brought my Quinoa Salad with Black Beans, my lunch date asked me if he could be in the picture. Behold my salad & my coworker:
Contents:
Cooked quinoa
Black beans (dried & then cooked)
parsley
tomatoes
red onions
olive oil
apple cider vinegar

The next day, I had the pleasure of a surprise visit from an old friend. I was so engrossed with catching up, I got back to my desk only to realize, I had no photos. I quickly called the Workaholic and he has happy to oblige. I quickly discovered that the Workaholic is in a much darker environment than I am.

Contents:
Black beans (the dried kind are the best I can find in Germany)

grilled corn, shucked

chopped tomaotes

chopped avocado

lime juice

cilantro

chili

Fruit Salad:

Pear

Blueberries

1/2 Kiwi

Cranberry juice to keep it from looking gross

That's it. A week of lunches. Let's see if I can find anything new this week. While still adhering to The Program, of course.

Reconnecting through lunch

Hello again!

It has been a while since I was last here. Eons ago, I took on a new job that allowed me to either cook or to write about cooking. If I gave up the cooking, I would have had the time to write about food but no material. An uncomfortable situation. I chose the food.

I'm back because an old friend, Emily, is running a contest of sorts on her site. She encourages everyone to get creative with their lunches. Because I have come to the conclusion that my cafeteria's offering of fries & schnitzel is not always my friend, I have been packing a lot of my own lunches. Today was a Vietnamese-style summer roll with a peanut dipping sauce and chopped mango and strawberry.

The rolls are filled with Thai basil, lettuce, bean thread, MSC-approved shrimp, mint, and slices of carrot, radish and red chilies.  The peanut sauce has chili oil, peanut butter, maybe soy sauce, maybe rice vinegar, maybe green onions. I'm not really sure because it was leftover from something else. Because I planned this lunch ahead of time, the actual assembly was 20 minutes for 4 rolls. It took me more time to make the fruit salad that I only realized was necessary after I saw all the empty space in my lunch box.

Summary: both the Workaholic and I were content. And it was the envy of my co-workers who had spaghetti with meat sauce.

Salmon Exchange I - Alaskan Smoked

There has been a long absence in my blogging. This may have been noticed by the astute, interested reader. This may have fallen by the wayside of readers who have found other blogs in the meantime. The absence, however, can easily be explained. I can have 2 of the following 3 things in my time: a stimulating job, fun food adventures or regular blog entries. Because blog entries require input, that is, fun food adventures or similar, I have had to reduce the amount of entires due to the advent of the stimulating job I started on August 1.

In spite of my limited time, I have managed to enjoy the summer and the company of friends. This post was inspired by one friend and made possible by another. After learning that I can consume salmon, one friend from Ireland promised to bring me some Irish smoked salmon from the Emerald Isle. I thought that Canadian Pacific Salmon might be a pleasant way to repay the favour. Every Canadian airport has a few things in the duty free shop: ice wine, maple syrup and smoked salmon. My part of this exchange would be easy to contribute. Flights to Toronto were already booked.

As I told people of my newly discovered lack of allergy to salmon, I also mentioned the plans of the salmon exchange. One day on Skype, the Workaholic's sister heard of my plans. She also made a trip out to Alaska. A few days into her trip, I got an email informing me that salmon was on it's way to the lower 48 States. I only had to get it to Toronto and then to Germany. Vacuum sealed and fully frozen, I put the pink flesh into my suitcase. After a drink in the airport bar and a 7 hour flight, the salmon was still cold. I called my Irish friend and a few others and invited everyone over for hors d'oeuvres.

Platter of Pink

On the platter was cold smoked sockeye salmon, hot smoked king salmon, hot smoked sockeye salmon and salmon jerkey. And everyone brought something over as well - organic bread, a garlic pecorino, a few bottles of prosecco, olives and other nibbles. As for the salmon - we all decided it was an indulgent treat worth the hassle of bringing it over 7,000 km.

Salmon Jerkey

We never made it out for dinner and we went through all the cheese and wine we had in the house. A small price to pay for such a lovely treat - both the salmon and the company. We all look forward to repeating the pleasure soon. The Irish salmon has already reached the continent.

Camp Paella

One of the benefits of being in a vacation home as opposed to a hotel is the fact that there is a kitchen and you can cook the foods found at the local market. The down side of cooking in the kitchen of a vacation home is that the spice rack is often bare. My task was to make dinner for 6 people in a vacation home, a stone's throw away from a local farm, with only dried cilantro and a bag of rice in the cupboard.

The farm had phenomenal corn on the cob, but we had just had that a few nights previously. I bought a pint of fresh peas, got in the car and drove to the supermarket. My plan was to use what I deemed the only salvageable item in the kitchen: the rice. My plan was a paella because it only relies on wine (readily available), stock (easily purchased at the store) and saffron (here, I was concerned). The supermarket had "American saffron" which is very different than the Persian strands I have in my kitchen. These blossoms are named "American" but grown in China and imported by a company in Quebec. I put my hesitation aside, threw the orange blossoms of saffron in the cart and continued shopping. "Try the local foods," I thought to myself, "even if they are global".

You're on vacation. Don't worry if what you cook turns into a disaster. You get the chance to try something new. Enjoy the company and watch the sun set.

Camp Paella
1 onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
olive oil
1-454g bag of rice
a glass of white wine
1/2 tsp American saffron
1 L of salt-free chicken stock
1 red pepper, diced
1 pint of peas, shelled
350 g frozen shrimp
350 g frozen bay scallops

Thaw seafood, reserving liquid.
Saute onion in olive oil, add garlic. When translucent, add red pepper. When the pepper is getting soft, add rice & stir until coated.
Add wine. When liquid from wine has evaporated, add stock. Continue stirring now and then.
Sip own glass of wine & chat with other vacationers.
Check on rice every now and then. If it needs more liquid, add the liquid from the thawed seafood. Ensure rice is almost cooked.
Add peas and seafood, allow everything to cook for a few more minutes.

Eating Out: Duff's Wings

"Ooh, let's order 100 wings, all medium hot; that's only very hot, not very very hot!" screams out one of the 8 little league boys at a neighbouring table. We're at Duff's in Buffalo, who may not have the claim of being the home of the original Buffalo wings, that claim goes to the Anchor Bar, but was the recent host of president Obama.

Of course you can make wings at home and you certainly don't have to go to Buffalo for the pleasure but there's something special about the wings there. I'd normally drive right past a place like Duff's, a decision based not only on appearances but also based on the fried, vinegar smell of the parking lot. Inside, the dark dining room is made even darker by wood panels. It's loud. There's no bar. The chairs are stackable and covered in vinyl. Nonetheless, we have to wait for a table for lunch.

We order 30 wings, which might be excessive but we were very hungry. We were not aware of the fact that the chicken wings at Duff's are from some sort of weight-lifting chickens with ridiculously large arms. 20 wings clearly would have been sufficient for our amount of hunger, which would have been 10 per person. This is the minimum order, and had we not been starving ourselves before, 10 mutant wings would have been enough to share.


After the wings arrive with their requisite celery and blue cheese sauce (spellt "bleu" in Buffalo), we dug into our wings, the smell of spicy vinegar permeating our nostrils before we could even take a bite. Too hot to eat just yet, I dipped my first wing into the cheese sauce. Not bad. We ordered the medium-light, after being warned that the medium is hot, and the hot is very, very hot. The medium-light sauce eats it's way through my lipstick and I can feel a light warmth outside my lips. Recharged after my afternoon snack, I leave the bar that I would normally have never entered, full of a not-so secret treat.

Football needs Wings

It's the World Cup of Football right now, and I can't stop watching matches. Last night , I cheered as Japan made it on to the next qualifying round. In a few hours, I'll put aside my things and watch Portugal vs. Brazil and North Korea vs. Cote D'Ivoire on split screens. But all this football is making me hungry.

If you're from North America, you likely think of the game with quarterbacks and huddles and big headgear when the word football is mentioned. I've never really understood the appeal of this game, it goes a little too slow for my taste. However, I love the beer and wings that go along with it. So, even if this is a different kind of football - one actually played with feet - I made some wings to go with the game. And having a Buffalonian around means that there are going to be Buffalo wings.

The wings are pretty easy, if you have a bottle of good hot sauce.
1) boil wings
2) place wings in bag with hot sauce and melted butter (lots of melted butter)
3) bake wings at 200°, turning them over once.
4) broil wings if not crispy enough
5) place wings in bowl, toss with more hot sauce and melted butter
6) serve with celery and dip.

The dip is normally a blue cheese dip, which is spelled "bleu cheese" for some reason I am yet to understand. I took 125 g of roquefort, 2 tbsp of mayonnaise, 3 tbsp of yogurt and 1 tsp of lemon juice.

There are higher fat versions of both the wings and the dip, but considering I'll be eating a few of these over the next few weeks, I can't really afford to go for the full-fat versions. Although I'd be tempted if I was in Buffalo.