The Hungry Squid

I have a confession to make: I am an autumn junkie. Please don’t get me wrong – a squid likes nothing more than to lie by the poolside on a hot July afternoon, or to barbeque in the park, or to have a drink (or a few) with friends on a terasse late into the summer night. But to be honest, the lack of air-conditioning in my apartment and the subsequent restless sleeps were getting to be a bit more than I could handle, not to mention the fact that turning the stove on heated the apartment up faster than you can say “incoming jellyfish!”. No, for all its ice cream-filled virtues, summer will always be a close second to the austere beauty and serenity of early autumn. The crisp   air and the soft sun against a pale blue sky evoke images of leather boots, red leaves and... fall cooking. Because let’s face it, I am unabashedly and incurably food-crazed. Emboldended by the cool late-summer breeze, I decided to turn the oven on for the first time in months and celebrated

Post-thesis submission (5 days ahead of the deadline, thank you very much) and pre-employment (scheduled to begin next week), I have been in transit, first to M’s lair and then home, where I entered a household bursting to the brim with out-of-town guests. A wildly busy and often hilarious week ensued, and I am just now getting used to the quiet of my Montreal 3 ½ . On of my favorite things about going home is the availability of cupboard upon cupboard of spices, powders, extracts and flours, many of which are required in ¼ teaspoon amounts in the recipes I like to try my hand at. My mother, the avid cook that she is, loves to experiment with cuisines, and she has an enthusiastic tasting panel in my brother and my dad (and occasionally me). Unfortunately, I have no such luxury; every recipe essentially serves one, which limits my experimentation with cooking to healthy foods that can be consumed guilt-free for 5 days. And the occasionally chocolate pear cake… S

The shoulder of pork was huge. Dark brown marrow, exposed in a thick shell of dense, mother-of pearl bone, was nestled in a sea of deep red meat and marbled with creamy ribbons of fat, which spread luxuriously across the top of the cut like a triumphant, artery-clogging crown. 6 lbs of pure, unadulterated pork, and it was our job to turn it into a sumptuous barbequed meal – sans barbeque. Challenge accepted. Earlier that weekend, I had been tempted by an invitation for pulled pork, but alas, travel plans already in place, I had to decline. However, the idea of tender pulled pork, drowning in a sea of smoky, tangy barbeque sauce, lingered in my brain, and, in the midst of my celebratory culinary binge, I had the idea to try my hand at the dish. M could not be more enthusiastic – being the carnivorous mammal he is, he jumped at the chance to prepare such a protein-heavy meal, and was more than willing to handle the raw meat (something that I am still a bit squeamish about). The

Day 3 of my freedom from the Thesis, and I have entered a new level of food nirvana. M and I embraced the end of this academic era with a gastronomic adventure, starting with late night sushi, breakfast on the terasse of a quaint Kingston bakery, farmer’s market produce shopping and a exquisite dinner that celebrated the bounty of summer – sweet Picton corn, tender local yellow cherry tomatoes, crisp, deep green bunches of basil and mint, fragrant fresh thyme, pungent red and green onions…. Our mid-August supper was rather simple, starting with mojitos, brewed with 60 mint leaves, rum in a (large) plastic jug. Mojito mania! Refreshed, we then proceeded to make our mains: chili cumin chicken thighs, and grilled corn salad. Unfortunately, city living made it impossible to barbeque the cobs, but, pan fried, this salad was still excellent – I can only imagine how charring the corn on the grill would elevate its flavor to outstanding. A note: we unfortunat