The Hunger Struck - Confessions of a Food Fanatic.

I’ve been hearing the praises of oatmeal for breakfast for many a year, starting from childhood, and have successfully managed to ignore or at least fain disinterest. While I was attracted to the health benefits and the possibility of staying full for longer than I was used to,  I suppose it was more out of a bored feeling I would get at the thought of reintroducing this into my breakfast routine.

You see, my childhood was one that was over populated by bowls of bland oatmeal. Even though there was plenty brown sugar and milk available to perk it up, it was never enough to get me excited about eating in the mornings. I remember begging my mother for anything but oatmeal for breakfast, followed by several dramatic demonstrations of my dislike once I didn’t get my way.  I also remember that I secretly thought it wasn’t terrible when I eventually did eat it, because I must confess I’ve never been one to starve myself even out of protest. Yet despite not hating it completely, like I wanted people to think, it didn’t inspire me or get me excited like I thought all food should. To be quite honest it still doesn’t.

Now these may look like your regular scrambled eggs, but my dear friends, they most definitely are not. No, these eggs are completely different, they are soft, creamy and are almost nothing like the standard north American scrambled fare. I’m sure there are many of you who have had the French version of this classic and ever since I first attempted this slow cooking process with my eggs years ago, I have not looked back.

This is one of those times where it just made sense. I was never a fan of scrambled eggs. I would see my friends eating them and wonder what it was about them that they fancied. Or whether they were just satisfied with mediocrity. In my experience scrambled eggs are dry, relatively boring and a sure way to ruin a great farm egg or render your average egg completely inedible. Sure you can add other flavors and dress them up but underneath it all I fell like you should be able to enjoy the egg itself, not simply use it as a flavorless vehicle on which to add a whole bunch of ciaos.

A bit crazy? Yes I am.

Several weeks ago I bought a huge butternut squash and because I’m somewhat indecisive, it has been sitting on my counter untouched ever since. I found myself staring at it everyday, uninspired by the thought of making soup or roasting it as is, just bored of my usual recipes. Bored, bored,  bored.

What to do?

After a few weeks I decided that it was time to search around a bit and hopefully get inspired by what others have made and maybe find something that is a bit out of the ordinary from me. Something sweet like muffins but better, it definitely had to be better than muffins.

Well I didn’t have to search long before I found the answer tucked away in the 2006 archives of La Tartine Gourmand. The second I read Squash Harvest Loaf I was captivated and knew what had to be done.  Sometimes all it takes is a quick glance through the ingredients of a recipe to feel completely confident about how it will turn out. Pureed roasted butternut squash + buttermilk + Roasted Pumpkin Seeds, Pecans, Walnuts… what could go wrong?

Kolaches are something one doesn’t find too often on bakery shelves in Vancouver. These little pastries originated in the Czech Republic, and consist of a sweet yeast dough with fillings ranging from different types of fruit preserves to cheese. I first discovered these little things years ago when I still lived in New York, but until recently have not really had any strong desire to tackle these in my kitchen.

I’m not one of those people who is easily intimidated by making yeast breads of any kind, but there is something I can’t quite put my finger on that happens when I make sweet breads involving yeast: they never taste quite as good as when they’re made by other people.

Similar to when I was a kid, I always thought my friends sandwiches tasted way better than mine. Not because my mother didn’t make a good sandwich, because she did, but for some completely random reason that makes no logical sense.

One of the very first things that I baked, completely by myself without any help from my mother were scones. I’m not exactly sure why it was scones that I chose. I know these were a favorite breakfast growing up, and they were one of those things that I made every morning during a summer job I had at a bakery in my early teens, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was that attracted me to the scone in the first place. Not that they aren’t wonderful, and the most perfect accompaniment to a lovely cup of tea at anytime of day or night, just not something you would imagine a kid really wanting to make.

I think that one of the reasons I love them so much today is that they are a neutral canvas and can be mixed with many a different fruit either fresh or dried, cheese both mild and strong (Stilton and Pear Scones are one of my favorite combinations) and are extremely easy to pull together. So easy in fact that it’s quite possible to get these together in the morning while your coffee is still brewing and have one of these beautiful little things in your mouth before your first cup is empty.