Pink of Perfection

Relationships — and not just romantic ones, but with our friends, too — open us up to all sorts of delights we might not have known otherwise. Take me, for example: Before Sebastian and I started dating, I thought I didn’t like Chinese food, had never listened to David Bowie, and thought the internet was for buying shoes. And now look at me — it’s a rare fortnight that doesn’t see me ordering fried pork dumplings to my door, I listen to Ziggy Stardust when I’m washing the dishes and folding laundry, and I don’t think we need to go to into how much the internet has shaped the trajectory of my little life.

Also B.S. (Before Sebastian) I had never heard of poutine, but he talked about it like it was the holy grail of foods. (Perhaps it was made more fantastic by its relative unavailability to us.) So, when work took me to Montreal several years ago, my beloved came with me. While I sat at a book conference, he stay locked in our hotel room and built the original Pink of Perfection and dreamed about eating poutine for dinner. Finally, one night, I rescued him from his hard work and we took the metro to another part of town. We found ourselves at a diner and, intimidated by the locals, managed to choke out an order for poutine and two Molsons. The poutine was just as so-wrong-it’s-right delicious as Sebastian had led me believe. And now, if you can believe it, there’s a burger joint a mere 10 blocks away that serves up this Quebecois delicacy.

But to learn the ropes of the real deal, I figured we needed a bona fide Montrealer to give us the scoop. Cat Taylor from Montreal is Chic tells us everything you ever wanted to know:

Back in the late 1950s when poutine is said to have been conceived in Quebec, no one could foresee the foray this unique product would make into some of the most sought-after dining establishments worldwide. The trend has spread past the North American shores to Europe and the myths and legend of the poutine story continue to grow.

But I’m here to give the facts.

Continue reading “Guest Post: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Poutine” »

I have long thought that one of the biggest obstacles to making a house feel like a home is all those blank walls. That’s why we made this giant horse silhouette way back when, why I hang album art, and why I frame vintage sewing patterns. But there’s a project I did awhile back that I never told you about, and it’s the kind of crafting I love: pretty fabric + junk you have laying around the house = something pretty to hang on the walls. Instead of framing fabric, which is a lovely idea, I wrapped box lids with fabric (as you would a present) and hung it right on the wall. This was originally conceived as a grouping of box lids in complementary fabrics (kind of like a quilt for your wall). I can’t quite remember how I ended up with just the pink birds, but either as a solo piece or a grouping, the project is equally successful — it’s just another way for me to great colorful, cheery fabrics into my home without having to haul out the sewing machine.

Continue reading “Shoebox Art” »

When we were still in the darkest days of February, Sebastian and I threw a Scandinavian-themed dinner party. Ever since I read this this, I’ve been wishing I were born Danish. Perhaps this would mean I were tall, effortlessly cool, and blond, but it would certainly mean my home was a white canvas of zero clutter punctuated by bright bursts of color. Without a plane ticket to take me to Copenhagen or a time machine to travel back and screw with the family tree, the only way I know how to access the culture of another place is to eat their food. And what more visceral method is there, really?

Our dinner party didn’t give grant me blondness, but it was a chance to drink Aquavit with some of our dearest friends, eat smoked salmon, and revel in one of my favorite dinner party dishes of roast pork with apples and prunes in a mustard cream sauce. My clutter problems didn’t magically evaporate, but we did have a good laugh at the pictures of Max von Sydow demonstrating a skoal in my fantastically musty-smelling copy of The Cooking of Scandinavia procured in a church basement (along with the rest of the complete Time Life cooking series — the find of a lifetime). What more can one really ask from a dinner with friends?

Continue reading “Pork Loin with Apples, Prunes, and Mustard Cream Sauce” »

Chantelle Nicole Designs is offering a $40 gift certificate to one lucky Pink of Perfection reader to use in their shop of of sweet and lovely hand-stamped silver jewelry.  Enter to win by leaving a comment about what makes you feel your prettiest by Sunday, March 14, 12 midnight EST. One winner will be selected at random, but everyone else is free to use this 10% of coupon: POP10

If the weather’s going to warm up and get all spring-y, I better hurry up and tell you about the last lingering hearty cold-weather recipes before it’s too late. Which leads me, with no ado at all, to a no-holds-barred chilly night dinner of bolognese.

Do you have a restaurant that is your go-to for all sorts of occasions, be it a celebration, lazy brunch, or candlelit dinner? Ours is a little Italian brasserie (is that an oxymoron?) a few blocks down the street. The prices are reasonable enough that we can swing in for lunch or dinner, but the atmosphere is sexy enough to feel like a treat. They have ridonkulously good fries (not quite shoe string, but skinnier than most), a steak that can bring tears to your eyes, and a burger that will make you forget the worst hangover. But for a cold weather lunch, I can’t resist their bolognese served with thick paparadelle. With a glass of wine and a seat on the black banquet across from my husband, I’m in heaven.

There are few things more comforting than shuffling around the house on a weekend with a pot of ragu simmering on the stove. It is the same sensation as puttering around the house with a roast chicken in the oven. The fragrance of a wholesome, sustaining dinner fills the air and fills you with a historic, elemental sense of satisfaction: I have put together this and that and now it cooks away while I sit here and read, you think. How glorious! And it is glorious. Even more so when you spoon out some of the rich sauce on top of a bowl of noodles, and settle down on the couch for a movie (thanks, Margaret!). This is the type of cooking and eating that ranks sky high in the book of satisfaction: nominal effort, slow-cooking, and a deeply luxurious result.

Continue reading “Before Winter’s Over Bolognese” »

image via muffet

Last week was not the stuff the good life is made of. Bogged down with melting snow and a bout of laryngitis that went from bearable to bad, I somehow lost my way. And I know you know what I mean: the days when everything loses its luster. Sadly, all the stuff that got you fired up about life is still there, it’s just not resonating with you in the same way. You slog through each day with no spark.

Well, I spent the weekend petting puppies and getting pep talks from a close friend, going to bed early, and drinking lots of Throat Comfort tea. And now Monday feels like a real fresh start. I’m not saying that I woke up feeling that the world was fresh and new and full of potential, but I’m actively reminding myself that it is.

And that’s what’s so glorious about spring. Just as you are starting to lose hope, the sunlight starts stretching past 5pm and the air warms up enough that you open the windows. It’s the natural cycle of things to at times have to turn it and rebuild before you can be renewed. I see a bouquet of daffodils in my future.

What’s your favorite thing about spring? Do you feel yourself wanting to take on shelved projects with a renewed sense of vigor? Do you, too, find yourself wanting a puppy?

I’ve been having one of those blah weeks. Know that feeling? There’s nothing actually wrong — in fact, besides a scratchy throat that makes me sound at turns like Kathleen Turner, everything’s going quite well — but there’s something that I just can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s this last leg of winter gray or that I need a shot in the arm of get-out-of-town or learn-something-new excitement. Whatever it is, there it is. In fact, just saying it out loud feels like I’ve thrown the ballasts overboard. It’s out there now, hopefully sinking to the bottom of the dark oceanic depths from which it came. Now maybe something fabulous can come and take its place.

This isn’t the kind of psychic ennui that can be undone with a fantastic dinner, but if it were, this recipe would be the cure. I’m filing this one away in the “quick and easy but in line with my fantasy vision of myself” folder. I have always thought of the recipes in How to Cook Everything as little more than utilitarian; this, however, is simple but otherworldly. You pop the sliced potatoes and onions in the oven with nothing more than a bit of olive oil, turning them every 10 minutes until the onions turn languorous and the potatoes become golden and crisp in patches. They you lay the fish on top, drizzle a bit of olive oil over the fillets, and in 8-12 more minutes you have a supper that is wonderously simple but perfect in every way: lush with flavor, and easy but refined, like a woman with a very expensive haircut who wears it in a just-rolled-out-of-bed sort of fashion.

Continue reading “Roast Cod with Potatoes and Onions” »

Can I tell you a secret? This winter I made a discovery born completely out of pure, unadulterated laziness. One of my most abhorred kitchen tasks is peeling butternut squash. I hate the thick skin, the irregular shape. Just writing about it my nose has assumed a position of crinkled-up-in-annoyance. See, I don’t even like to think about it. Which is a shame, really, because I love the stuff once the hard work is done. That is why, when I once saw butternut squash already peeled and chopped in the grocery store, it was the kind of convenience food I could really get behind. When I didn’t see it again, though, I decided to just stop peeling. That’s right. Whether roasting (which Sara Rose convinced me was a-ok) or chopping up for a soup, I just left the skin on. What’s a little bit of extra fiber?

And that, my friends, is the only way I could bring myself to make this vegetarian winter stew. And it’s a good thing I found a work-around, because I really loved this, rich as it is with red lentils and topped with a smattering of chopped peanuts, yogurt, and cilantro. It’s the sort of decadent yet basically healthy food that gets me through winter without consuming a truckload of extra sharp New York State cheddar cheese and 40 gallons of tea.

Come to think of it — holy hey, it’s March! Did you read your Astrologyzone horoscope? Are you hanging in, or so deeply sick of winter that if you have to pull on your tights once more you just might yip?

Continue reading “Winter Squash, Red Lentil, and Chickpea Stew” »