The Culinary Couple

Since seeing Food, Inc. and reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, we’ve become more conscious of the food we eat — especially the meat we eat.

We do not support factory farms that follow inhumane practices, which unfortunately are the source of most supermarket meats.

And so we buy our meat — often chicken or pork or lean ground beef — direct from local farmers and butchers we know and trust.

Both Gearhart’s Meats and Holland Bros. Meats are within a 15-minute drive from our house. Gearhart’s has great bourbon marinated chicken breasts, and Holland Bros. does specialty smoked meats and sausages. Also, when I have time after work to stop at the Boalsburg Farmers Market, I buy pork chops from Bill from Cow-A-Hen Farms in Mifflinsburg.

While the aforementioned film and books convinced us to change the type of meat we eat, they convinced some to stop eating it altogether, like my new friend Anna. She writes the blog Newlywed Newly Veg.

Anna and I met a few weeks ago through our connection to a new State College café, The Enchanted Kitchen. We met for lunch and hit it off immediately. And then we both went on vacation. We were finally able to reconnect last night over dinner — and this time with our husbands.

I happily accepted the challenge of preparing a vegetarian meal for our guests. I’m still not sure how Nick and I managed to clean the house and prep the food in just an hour-and-a-half. But we did. The meal was tasty, and the company was perfect.

Appetizer: Roasted Red Pepper Hummus with Naan and Veggies
Cocktails: Homebrews and Mojitos
Main Dish: Portobello Mushrooms stuffed with Heirloom Tomatoes, Spinach, Parmesan
Side Dish: Orzo with Roasted Eggplant and Cinnamon-Cumin Dressing
Dessert: Blueberry Crumble Cake

The orzo side dish was an exceptionally exciting one for me. I’ve never cooked with Moroccan flavors, and the cinnamon-cumin combination was surprisingly good. The eggplant gave it substance, and the golden raisin gave it sweetness. I highly recommend it, whether you’re vegetarian or not.

We’re so thrilled to have connected with another young couple (with culinary interests, too!). You can read Anna’s dinner recap here.

Today we received the sweetest and most clever thank you note. It’s currently hanging on our fridge.

It’s from my sister, Laura, and her boyfriend, Stephen, who visited us a few weeks ago. How many 18- and 19-year-olds do you know who handwrite thank you notes? How many 28- and 29-year olds for that matter? (Thank you, Mom, for teaching us to be thankful!)

Let’s read it together, shall we? (Note: recipe for “watermelon deliciousness” at the end of the post.)

“Dear Emily and Nick, Thank you for your hospitality and the soft Jersey sheets.” (Stephen was so in love with the sheets on our guest bed that he had to go to Target to buy a set for himself.)

“We had an awesome time going to Canoe Creek and kayaking for the afternoon.” (Indeed, we did! You two make us old married folks feel young again.)

“I liked the crab dip a lot.” (Gearhart’s Meats gets weekly shipments of this dip from Baltimore. It’s insanely good.)

“We also enjoyed our hike to the limekilns.” (Our neighboring state park is rich in limestone, which was quarried during the early 1900s.)

“We had a blast at the Al-Tuna Curves game. ‘We want AL!’” (Al-Tuna is one of three mascots of our local minor league baseball team. We had sweet seats in the first row.)

“And the food you made was scrum-diddly-umptious.”

“And the watermelon deliciousness that I consumed in large quantities.” (The deliciousness to which Stephen is referring: watermelon granita. And, yes, he ate at least five servings. Recipe to follow.)

“Anyway, thanks for the fun-filled, action-packed weekend! We love hanging out with the Wileys. Can’t wait to come visit again soon. Love you both!” (We love you, too! We’re happy to play hosts anytime!)

Looking for a charming British retreat on this side of the Atlantic? Look no further than Niagara-on-the-Lake, a brief 25-minute drive from the crowds and commotion of Niagara Falls. It’s located at the opposite end of the scenic Niagara Parkway past vineyards, farms, parks, and gated homes.

The British established residency in the small Ontario town in 1781. During the War of 1812, Americans captured and destroyed the town, but the British rebuilt it and its historical charm is well maintained today.

Wine bars and artisanal cheese shops and specialty boutiques now occupy the 19th century buildings. Quaint B&Bs and inns sit alongside private mansions on tree-lined side streets. And the flowers, oh the flowers. I’ve never seen such perfectly manicured baskets, beds, and boxes.

We had an authentic British dinner at Moffat Pub: fish ‘n’ chips with a side of mushy peas for Nick and bangers ‘n’ mash for me. (Though I still prefer our homemade bangers ‘n’ mash — I credit the beer and mustard seeds.)

And we couldn’t resist sharing an ice cream cone — nearly everyone we passed had one. Not only does Cows have sweet ice cream flavors (Freckle Frenzy, Wowie Cowie, Moo Crunch), they also have a line of clever t-shirts (Dunder Moofflin, Team Jacowb, Dancing with the Steers). Really, you have to check it out.

Following dinner and dessert, we walked a few blocks to the shore of Lake Ontario to watch the sunset. It was the ideal way to conclude our summer vacation.

Thanks for following along! Here’s a list of all recaps:

• Saratoga Springs: Chianti Ristorante
• Saratoga Springs: Mrs. London’s Bakery and Putnam Market
• Saratoga Springs: The Water that Put the Place on the Map
• Saratoga Springs: BBQ and Cobbler and Fireworks
• Quebec City: The Lower Town
• Quebec City: Le Cochon Dingue
• Quebec City: History, Beers, and Chocolates
• Montreal: The First Day of My 28th Year
• Montreal: The Second Day of My 28th Year
• Montreal Rain to Niagara Mist

Where have you traveled this summer?

We had one more sight to see on our way out of Montreal: Parc du Mont Royal.

Mount Royal (mont Réal in Middle French and Mont Royal in present French) was first discovered by Jacques Cartier in 1535. It is the mountain for which Montreal is named.

The park is one of the city’s largest green spaces. There are numerous hiking trails, a lake, and even a small ski slope. The most visited spot is just a 10-minute walk from the parking lot: Kondiaronk Belvedere, a semicircular plaza with a chalet, overlooking downtown Montreal.

It was hazy when we reached the top, and we could barely make out the skyline, the bridges, and the river. It was not difficult, however, to clearly see the rain clouds that were steadily rolling in.

Just as we started our short decent, the sky opened up and the rain showered down. We ran from the cover of one tree to the next until we finally reached our car — completely soaked.

Fortunately, we had a seven-hour drive to sufficiently dry our clothes (and frizz my hair).

We pulled into the Days Inn at Niagara Falls just as the sun was setting. We were upgraded to the honeymoon suite, which included a fireplace and a red heart-shaped jacuzzi tub. I kid you not. I’m sure it was a hot spot in the 1970s, but, man, was it cheesy.

We didn’t choose the Days Inn for its romance, of course, we chose it for its location.

The next morning we walked across the street and onto the Riverwalk. Nick was less than thrilled that I wanted to walk the roughly 4km for our first view of the Falls (to his defense, we hadn’t yet showered or eaten). He tried to run away from me, but eventually he gave in and posed for the camera.

We passed quaint B&Bs with colorful gardens and a stone church on a corner. And just as we walked under Rainbow Bridge, we saw Niagara Falls in all its glory. It wasn’t as tall as I’d imagined, but the mist was sure impressive.

By the time we got back to our hotel, ate breakfast, and showered, it was after noon and time to head back to the Falls. We got a tip to park a few blocks from River Road to avoid paying $20 in fees, and we felt so proud of ourselves for cheating the tourist trap.

And, oh my, what a tourist trap it was. I didn’t take any photos besides ones depicting natural beauty, but trust me, there were many, many manufactured spectacles. Picture high-rise hotels and chain restaurants, Ripley’s Believe It Or Not and the Guinness World Records Museum, arcades and gaudy souvenir shops.

We walked as quickly as we could through the crowds of screaming toddlers and agitated adults and purchased our tickets for the Maid of the Mist. It’s the one attraction I definitely recommend doing.

The boat ride was brief, but we sat for several still moments under the mist of Horseshoe Falls. It was pretty incredible — the pure, powerful sound of hundreds of thousands of gallons of gushing water.

And despite the commercialism, I do believe the views from the Canadian side are more attractive than those from the American side.

So what did we do that evening? We found a more intimate and comfortable town nearby.

Next up: Niagara-on-the-Lake

We continued to celebrate my birthday on July 8th with a few activities we couldn’t fit into July 7th.

First up: A 90-minute guided boat tour along the Saint Lawrence River. We boarded the Bateau-Mouche and cruised past the Olympic Stadium, La Ronde Amusement Park, the Biosphère, and the Molson factory. The cool breeze from the river was a welcome relief from another hot and humid day in Montreal.

From the boat, we saw the birthplace of Montreal at Pointe-à-Callière …

… and the ultramodern Habitat 67.

Afterwards we wondered into Chinatown for lunch. I had poulet à l’orange and Nick had poulet tso générale. And we each chugged at least four glasses of water.

We took in some more sights — Place Jacques-Cartier and Place d’Armes — before returning to our hotel for a break.

Once we had a sufficient amount of time to refresh in our air conditioned hotel room, we were ready to eat again. We were both craving crepes, and Crêperie Chez Suzette delivered.

I ordered La Laurentienne with ham, Swiss cheese, asparagus, and béchamel sauce, and Nick had La Québécoise with ham, Swiss cheese, and Canadian maple syrup. (He was generous enough to allow me to dunk forkfuls of my crepe into his sweet syrup.)

And then the most perfect belated birthday dessert: La Sonia with fresh strawberries and bananas, ice cream, and a Belgium chocolate sauce.

Next up: From Mont-Royal to Niagara Falls

What did we do with our only free Saturday in July?

We went to the gym and ran errands and spent the remainder of the day in the kitchen.

We turned chickpeas, roasted red peppers, and sun-dried tomatoes into hummus and slathered it onto warm whole wheat pita bread.

We broke in our new Cuisinart with carrots, radishes, and squash. We tossed the shredded veggies with lemon vinaigrette and topped it with sliced avocado for a simple, light salad.

We baked a dangerously delicious cobbler with blueberries and peaches from the farmers market.

And then we moved our glasses of wine from the kitchen to the dining room for a game of Scrabble. Nick won. Rematch tonight, perhaps?

How did you spend your Saturday?

(I sure hope I’m not boring you all with these vacation recaps. It allows me to organize our photos and document our memories, and I thank you for sticking around! Speaking of documentation, I eventually do plan to finish our wedding recaps. Perhaps before our first anniversary? Only 36 days away!)

We drove from Quebec City to Montreal on Tuesday night and checked into the Hilton Bonaventure. (Thanks to Uncle Jim and Aunt Vicki for hooking us up!) Have you ever noticed that the size and softness of hotel towels is directly proportional to the cost of the room? Let’s just say the Hilton had the largest, most luxurious towels of our trip.

It was late by the time we arrived, so we asked the concierge for a nearby dinner recommendation. He suggested Brutopia on Crescent Street. It was perfect. We enjoyed honey beers and shared a “Bru Burger” made with ground beef and ham and topped with aioli and avocado.

I woke up the next morning to Nick’s rendition of “Happy Birthday To You.” It’s the fourth birthday I’ve spent with him, and I always look forward to his annual serenades.

We showered, took advantage of the continental breakfast, and headed to our first destination: Notre-Dame Basilica. We’ve both visited European churches and agreed that this North American one ranks as a favorite.

The construction of the sanctuary was completed in 1830, and the interior was finished 40 years later. The decor is dramatic and colorful, and the Gothic architecture is among the most elaborate in the world.

It’s awe inspiring.

We continued our tour of Old Montreal — the part of the city that dates back to New France in the 1600s — with a stroll along Rue Saint Jacques and Rue Saint Paul.

And at this point, I need to acknowledge the heat wave that overwhelmed Montreal during our two-day visit. Temperatures reached record highs of 38°C, which equals 100°F — and that doesn’t even include the humidity factor. Some employees were instructed not to come to work due to the unbearable heat, and cooling stations were set up around the city.

We did our best to see the sights, but were forced to take indoor breaks almost every other hour. One such break was taken at Les 3 Brasseurs.

The microbrewery has 28 locations in France and several in Quebec. I drank the smooth, refreshing blond, and Nick had the aromatic brown. To eat, we had the fish and chips (2/5 stars) and the homemade flamm (a.k.a. pizza) with onions, bacon, mushrooms, and grated gruyere (3/5 stars). The food was not stellar, but the beers were satisfying.

Next we wondered around Marché Bonsecours where local artists — from painters to sculptors to wood carvers — set up shop.

And then it was time for another break. We were in desperate need of a dip in the hotel pool, but instead of walking the hot pavement back to our abode, we decided it was the perfect opportunity to explore what lie beneath.

Montreal’s Underground City is the largest underground complex in the world with close to 20 miles of tunnels. The first connection was constructed in 1962 and expanded drastically throughout the 90s. The labyrinth is as aesthetically appealing as any above ground space and most halls are wide enough to host shops on both sides. There are clothing boutiques and art galleries and sushi restaurants and gelato stands, even banks and dentists.

Now it should be noted that I am not a swimmer. Nor am I a wade in the pool with twenty strangers type of person. But, wow, I have never felt so refreshed by a public pool. We easily could have stayed in the cool water for the remainder of the evening, but we knew there was more exploring to do. So we dragged ourselves out and back into dry clothes and onto the Metro en route to the Latin Quarter.

The original plan was to get drinks and an appetizer at one location and move to another for my birthday dinner. However, after sharing a pitcher of Boréale and finishing less than half of a platter of poutine (never, ever again shall we eat poutine), we were both rather uncomfortable. French fries with cheese curds and gravy? Foolish us for thinking when in Canada, we should do as the Canadians do — they must have stronger stomachs. And did I mention it was hot? And that we were sitting on the terrace?

And so rather than searching for a trendy restaurant, we attempted to “walk out our bellies” along the eclectic Rue Saint Catherine. It runs through the Gay Village and is located near five universities. It’s hip and artsy and full of vibrant life — very good people watching.

Despite the poutine that was still sitting heavy, I insisted we find dessert. I couldn’t let my birthday end without consuming something sweet! Reuben’s Deli it was — for chocolate cake and decaf coffee.

Next up: The birthday celebration continues

Nick is in Pittsburgh today and tomorrow for work obligations, and so I have the house to myself tonight. I considered going for a run along my favorite trail, but instead I bought some goodies from the farmers market and came home to cook.

Eating instead of exercising — you see where my priorities lie tonight. And I don’t regret it one bit.

For dinner, I roasted heirloom tomatoes with olive oil, kosher salt, and basil from our front porch garden and tossed them with fresh basil garlic pasta from Fasta. I also drank a glass (or a glass and a half) of Cassie’s Blush from Spyglass Ridge Winery and ate a slice (or two) of apple oat bread from Gaffron’s Sunrise Bakery.

And now I shall retreat to my couch with a book and a blanket.

P.S. Don’t feel bad for Nick — he sent this photo an hour ago.

How do you spoil yourself when you’re home alone?

On Tuesday morning we grabbed coffees and croissants from Paillard (a.k.a. Canadian Panera) and climbed the hill to La Citadelle to watch the Changing of the Guard.

The wall was originally built around Quebec City in the 17th century, and the current fortification was constructed by the British in 1820 to protect Canada from American invasion. (I’m happy to report the city never experienced conflict.)

The Changing of the Guard has been a tradition at La Citadelle since 1928. The pomp and circumstance lasted almost 45 minutes and included English translation. (The Royal 22e Régiment is the only French speaking regiment in the Canadian Army.)

Following the demonstration, we toured the grounds — which includes both British and French architecture — and solved the mystery of the goat.

Bâtisse X is the tenth generation mascot of the regiment. The first was presented by the Queen of England.

And in big bold floral letters, the official motto of Quebec: Je me souviens, which means “I remember.” It refers to the French and British heritage of the territory and its establishment as an independent province.

Also, the citadel offers one of the best views of the city and the river.

By that time we were ready for a couple of cold ones. We stumbled upon L’ Oncle Antoine, a charming pub located in an old gunpowder building in the Lower Town. The beers — blonde for Nick and rousse for me — were refreshing, and despite the sweltering heat, I couldn’t resist a bowl of French onion soup. (Noticing a trend?)

We enjoyed our final stroll along Rue St-Pierre and treated ourselves to petite chocolates — well worth the price.

On our way out of the city, we couldn’t resist exploring one more icon: the Parliament Building. It was under construction during our visit, but they masked it well (notice the printed canvas on the left side of the building).

Quebec City is lovely and romantic and proud of its French, British, and Canadian heritage. It’s a small piece of Europe on this side of the Atlantic with it’s own unique local charm.

Next up: Montreal

(Catch up on previous road trip recaps.)

What do you order on a 95 degree evening from a restaurant with no air conditioning? Steaming seafood pot pie and messy maple ribs, of course.

Okay, perhaps it wasn’t the smartest (or most photogenic) choice, but it was the most delicious meal of our entire trip.

Not one, not two, but three Quebec City locals suggested Le Cochon Dingue for our only dinner in the city, and it lived up to its recommendations.

“The Crazy Pig” opened in the Petit Champlain district in 1979. The menu is full of comfort foods with a bit of French flair: pear, cranberry, and brie in a puff pastry; tartine duck confit and cheddar cheese on country bread; chocolate cake with Chantilly. Canadian influence is also evident in its maple vinaigrette and maple ice cream.

My pot pie included lobster, crab, shrimp, scallop, and salmon from the Magdalen Islands near Nova Scotia. There was not a single bite that I didn’t taste the fresh, tender seafood in cream sauce. (Though I could have done without the side of fries.) I countered the hot dish with a cold biere rousse.

And Nick’s maple house-smoked ribs were incredible. (They would have won our vote in the BBQ festival.) We splurged and ordered the full rack, and between the two of us, we cleaned every bone. To drink, he had a pale ale from Alexander Keith’s.

We were literally sweating by the time we took our last bites and set off in search of a public fountain in which to bathe.

I kid, I kid. We actually returned to our hotel to shower and freshen up and then headed back to the Lower Town to see the Château Frontenac at night. What a beauty she is.

Next up: From Quebec City to Montreal