Thanks to this allergy-induced haze that is now my life, we’ve had to extend soup season through spring. Is there anything better than a cozy broth-y veggie packed soup filled with delicious, pillowy morsels of tortellini when you’re feeling poorly? I think not.
When I first moved to Vancouver and couldn’t cook a lick, we used to order minestrone soup from a cute little Italian place on Robson Street whenever I was sick, it sort of become a tradition that sort of evolved into variations this tortellini and vegetable soup, when we started cooking at home.
My sister has made this soup so many times, she could probably put it together in her sleep; it’s simple, flavour packed and comes together quickly with any combination of vegetables and tortellini or whatever handy pasta you have in your pantry.
Spring may have brought its sparkle and burst of sunshine, but it also came carrying my old nemesis, pollen.
Lately, I’ve been a congested wheezy, sneezing mess; my eyes, throat and eyes itch, and I’m tired all the time.
I was going to post the recipe for this sumo orange citrus cake last week but I’ve sadly been busy being miserable.
Since sumo citrus is only in season for a short time, I really wanted to share this recipe before the season ended – I even shot a little video to go with it!
We jokingly dubbed the long dull days between Christmas and spring sumo orange season because you could always count on the huge, nubby, strange looking orange to help brighten a wintry day.
I’m not exactly certain when I first noticed sumo oranges, it must have been two or three years ago. When I spotted them at my local Whole Foods, they were huge, bumpy-skinned with a top knot like a sumo wrestler’s. I got them out of curiosity and was pleasantly surprised that I really liked them.
This time last year, I was preparing to travel to Havana for the first time. I was excited and a little apprehensive about the trip because even though I’d read all the travel guides and seen the photos, there was still this aura of mystique surrounding travel to Cuba that I couldn’t decode.
Havana turned out to be vastly fascinating and insightful; different from any place I’d been before. I fell in love, intrigued by the bold and colourful way the city and its people exist. In the short few days, I learned of the captivating culture and history of Cuba, from the revolution to Santaria; I was riveted by the scenery, the grand architecture, the colourful crumbling buildings and the antique cars that warp you back to another time.
I put together a little guide (with lots of photos, sorry!) on how to discover bits of Havana in slow exploration. This guide would be especially useful to first-time visitors.
Imagine us wandering through the aisles of a giant hypermarché on the outskirts of Paris, my sister and I were snapping up as many jars of poudre de Colombo we can bring back home, and dreaming up a thick and saucy lentil and sweet potato stew infused with warm aromatic spices of Colombo powder.
This was last year, and we’ve made the stew a few times in the past months; my sister thankfully found a local source for Colombo curry. It has been just as we had imagined, bowlfuls of a bright and peppy stew, thick, fragrant and rich with chunky sweet potatoes and creamy toothsome lentils – it has become a weeknight staple for us during the colder months.
For years I’ve thought about these incredible waffles I had at a little bed and breakfast we stayed at on a weekend getaway to the Sunshine Coast. They had these charming cards printed with the recipes of some the favourite items on the menu. I grabbed the recipe card for the overnight yeast-raised waffles after taking my first bite.
The waffles were thick, perfectly golden with a crunchy exterior and chewy on the inside, they were the most glorious thing I ate that weekend, and I determined I was going to make them every day for the rest of my life. It sounds like an exaggeration but not by much, they were that good!
For one reason or another, I never got around to making the waffles, I subsequently lost the recipe card, but making these waffles on a lazy weekend morning stuck with me like a romanticized idea.