A visit to Mother's Dumplings

Drew hasn't visited with his friend Nancy since his birthday (where she cooked a feast of lobster ravioli!) and they are way overdue for catching up. Dim sum is their brunch of choice and Nancy has the perfect location: Mother's Dumplings.

Everything is made fresh and it is fascinating to watch as the cooks, theatrically on display behind glass, roll the ingredients into little balls and tuck them into wrappers to be sent to be boiled, baked, steamed or fried. The menu is made up of recipes that the chef Zhen learned from her mother. It is pricier than Nancy and Drew's usual dim sum haunts but the dumplings are startlingly fresh tasting and there is not the usual grease. Best of all: a peek into the kitchen reveals a sparkling clean interior instead of the horrors of a favourite dim sum palace that will remain unnamed.

Raul has to work but Nancy's other half, Bruce, joins in and the conversation almost upstages the food. The boiled shrimp, pork, egg and chive dumplings are a vivid green and burst with flavour but the steamed Lamb Shui Mai packs the most punch and the little puckered bundles are fought over. Nancy raves about the broth for the beef and noodle soup with bak choi - it is rich with beefy goodness but mild and subtle - Drew is less enamoured with subtle and adds hot sauce to kick it up. The bbq-ed pork bun is the most standard dim sum option but also the most delicious. Drew is particularly partial to a side dish of spicy peanuts that mix well with everything.

Bruce is excited about a chocolate-banana smoothie for dessert but Nancy and Drew debate the options endlessly. Nancy is leaning towards rice pudding but Drew is curious about the assorted sweet buns. "It's a risk but it'll either be something extraordinary or something we'll tell a story about," he speculates. The sweet buns are extraordinary. Two varieties are gelatinous but brimming with fruity sweetness. There is a tiny lemon almost cupcake that is very tasty but the best is a stunning jewel of a treat shaped like a brightly coloured fruit - "It looks like a little bum mooning us," notes Drew referencing one of Nancy's more notorious escapades - that is a cake stuffed with a fruit paste: a work of art that tastes as good as it looks.

Dim sum may be composed of tiny delicacies but the trio eat enough to be a full meal. Mother's Dumplings is a great place to visit and dine slowly with style.

Mother's Dumplings is at 421 Spadina Ave. mothersdumplings.com

Apple Crisp

It pours rain all day and despite a delicious lunch of pulled pork sandwiches (the leftover pulled pork with the addition of caramelized onions, avocado and some coleslaw) and bean salad (also with avocado chunks added - it was a big avocado) Raul is restless and decides to bake a wholesome treat. He googles many recipes before he finds the apple crisp recipe he thinks has the best potential. Of course he then makes some necessary adjustments . .

Ingredients:
Crisp Topping
1/2 cup all purpose flour
3/4 cup oats (Raul substitutes Drew's Mom's granola to add nuts and flavour)
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/3 cup butter
Fruit 
6 cups sliced apples
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tbsp water
1 tbsp lemon juice

Directions:
Preheat oven to 375ºF 

Topping: Combine flour, oats, brown sugar and cinnamon in medium bowl. Cut in butter with pastry blender or two knives until mixture is crumbly. Set aside.

Fruit: Arrange apples in greased 9" (23 cm) square baking dish or 1 1/2 qt (1.5 L) casserole. Sprinkle with sugar, water and lemon juice.

Sprinkle topping evenly over fruit.

Bake in preheated oven for about 40 minutes, or until fruit is tender-crisp.

The apartment fills with a sweet aroma and the dog, already restless from the absence of a long walk because of his aversion to getting wet and his raincoat, paces while he waits. "Do we have to let it cool?" asks Raul.

"A bit," answers Drew. "It's best when it's still warm. Or the next day. Do you want me to run out and get ice cream?"

"In this weather?" says Raul incredulously. "Besides we don't have room in the freezer for another thing. I have an idea."

The freezer is full, partially, because No Frills had a sale on Nestle Drumsticks two weeks ago and Drew stocked up. Then Food Basics had a sale, not as good but still a significant sale, and Drew stocked up further. In his defense it has been great ice cream weather until today, and Raul was enjoying the occasional cone as well. Raul dishes up the apple crisp and then takes a Drumstick and slices it cleanly down the middle. "Not only an instant post-modern scoop of ice cream," he announces proudly, "but also a bit of chocolate and a few more nuts."

Pound Cake

"It was an experiment, a science experiment," laments Raul. "A science experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. There was a dozen eggs about to go bad . . ."

"Buck up," says Drew. "Even Bill Nye the Science Chef had the occasional mis-step." Beneath his flippant surface Drew is concerned. The pound cake - that wound up being a several pound cake though that may have had to do with Raul's not noticing that the recipe stated: Serves 16 - is the latest baking attempt that was less than successful and one more failure and Raul's fragile sanity may hang in the balance. Two lemon cakes were terminated when the texture was not perfect and the Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Banana Bread met a similar fate despite an attempt to turn it into biscotti. Drew had actually enjoyed the biscotti and was perturbed when every crispy slice vanished overnight, never to be seen, or savoured, again.

"It's the oven," continues Raul. "There are cold spots. I baked it for a half hour longer than the recipe called for and it burnt on the outside on one side but was still doughy inside. I have, you should know, baked successfully before."

"And this was a success," encourages Drew. "It's just a little heavy. But isn't pound cake supposed to be heavy?"

"Yes," says Raul. "But if we eat all this cake we will be heavy too. We'll be lying helpless on the floor with bloated bellies. Like the snake that swallowed the dingo whole."

"We could Mildred Pierce it and share it with the neighbours."

"We will not share that cake with anyone," asserts Raul. "It will be gone in the morning."

For the record the recipe comes from grouprecipes.com and the results are no reflection on their usual thoroughness.

Butter Cake Or 12 Eggs Cake

Ingredients: 
1 pound salted butter 
4 cups sugar 
12 eggs 
4 cups Pillsbury all-purpose flour 
1 ounce bottle lemon extract (Raul used vanilla extract)

Directions: 
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. 
Cream butter and sugar together. 
Add one egg at a time, mixing well after each addition. 
Add flour gradually. 
Mix in lemon extract. 
Pour mixture into a large Bundt pan or Angel Food Cake Pan, greased and floured, to about 1 to 2 inches from the top. 
Bake for one hour or until cake tests as done. 
Allow cake to cool thoroughly.

By the time the cake is done, Raul is too discouraged to make icing from scratch so he heads across the street to Food Basics for some Betty Crocker Whipped Fluffy White Icing or, as Drew calls it, Betty Crocker Pop n' Spread. The cake is substantial but delicious and R&D valiantly eat as much of a large slice as they dare. "I can eat this for the next eight days," enthuses Drew fraudulently.

"It must have been when all the bubbles overflowed," obsesses Raul. "All the lightness flowed right out and burnt on the oven floor. With God as my witness, I will yet bake a perfect cake."

Old Fashioned Oatmeal Cookies

After the less-than-perfect, "A catastrophe!" corrects Raul, texture of the banana bread, Raul, while vowing to solve and correct the problem, retreats to a recipe he has already conquered. Drew's Mom is famous for, among many baking miracles, her oatmeal cookies. Raul was fascinated from the first bite, "Economical, healthy and tasty. Perfect." Drew's Mom sends the recipe via email and Raul works to perfect it (something he should remember before flagellating himself too severely about the banana bread). He discovers the importance of brown sugar (as the recipe calls for) rather than golden or white, whole wheat flour (as the recipe calls for) rather than all-purpose and, his own addition, the use of bargain priced but high quality Chefmaster Margarine (a trick he learned from a chance conversation at No Frills with a woman who claimed Chefmaster was the closest to ghee so ideal for cooking and high temperatures). At one point a tortilla press is pressed into service to create the perfect thickness and at another a giant wooden rolling pin is acquired from the thrift store to roll out the dough.

Raul also deviates from the original recipe by adding in chopped granola (courtesy of Drew's Mom who makes it from scratch) to add a nutty flavour, more fibre and nutrients. For this particular batch Drew casually inquires whether there are any dark chocolate chips left from the disasterous (but still being happily eaten) banana bread. There are and Raul stirs them in and then lives in terror while the cookies bake, "What if the chocolate is the culprit in the banana bread catastrophe?"

Old Fashioned Oatmeal Cookies

1 c butter or margarine

1 1/2 c brown sugar

2 eggs

1 t vanilla

2 c whole wheat flour

1 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

1/2 t salt

4-5 c old fashioned oatmeal (large flake)

or 3 c regular oatmeal

Combine in your amazing Kitchen Aid mixer :)
Roll out, cut in circles, bake at 350'F for 12 minutes.
Enjoy!!!

The cookies turn out perfectly: crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside. The dark chocolate is a delicious enhancement but alas renders the cookies poison to the dog. "Another catastrophe!" complains Raul.

"Perfect," purrs Drew as he blithely munches in front of the miffed mutt. "More for me. I mean . . . How tragic! I'll give him some crumbs that are not contaminated with chocolate."

Dark Chocolate Marbled Peanut Butter Banana Bread

While shopping the endlessly fascinating aisles of Danforth Variety & Fruit Market Raul picked up a huge bunch of over-ripe bananas for a mere 39 cents a pound. Banana bread is in the offing. He googles and browses until he finds the most intriguing and sensible recipe in existence. The aforementioned recipe resides at What's Baking in the Barbershop? a very entertaining yet practical blog out of Boston. The recipe is modified from recipes found at Cooking Light so R&D feel safe in reproducing it here.

Ingredients:

-2 cups all-purpose flour

-3/4 tsp. baking soda

-1/2 tsp. salt

-1 and 1/2 cups mashed, ripe banana (about 3 medium to large bananas)

-1/3 cup low-fat vanilla yogurt

-1/3 cup creamy peanut butter

-3 Tbsp. melted butter, cooled

-2 eggs (or 1/2 cup egg substitute)

-1/2 cup sugar

-1/2 cup light brown sugar

-1/2 cup dark chocolate chips

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine the flour, baking soda, and salt; set aside. In a large mixing bowl, combine the banana, yogurt, peanut butter, cooled melted butter, and eggs. Mix well until combined. Add both sugars, and continue to mix well. Next, add the flour mixture a little bit at a time and beat on low speed until just moist and combined.


Place the chocolate chips in a medium-sized microwave safe bowl, and microwave on high in 30-second increments, stirring after each time. Continue until the chips are completely melted and smooth; cool slightly. Add 1 cup of the banana bread batter to the melted chocolate, and stir until well combined.

Coat a 9 x 5 inch (or 8.5 x 4.5) loaf pan with cooking spray. Swirl the plain batter and chocolate batter together with a knife in the pan (see the stages of this process below). Bake at 350 for 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until a knife or toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for 10 to 15 minutes before removing from pan to cool completely on a cooling rack.

Of course the loaves are not allowed to cool for half an hour before tasting. The bread is delicious but the peanut butter/banana section has an odd texture - like a very firm pudding. Raul is devastated. "We should have waited to cut it," he wails. "And where did that faint taste of mint come from? This is way too heavy for the height - it fell. Maybe it was using crunchy peanut butter. Or the yogurt. Or maybe it needed to cook longer. Or . . ."

"Or maybe it's just delicious and don't worry about it," says Drew while he cuts himself a second slice.  

"I'll figure it out and get it perfect," vows Raul. "Or maybe someone will read this and have a solution. As God as my witness we will have perfect dark chocolate peanut butter banana bread." 

Dinner and a Show: Dining at Mysteriously Yours

R&D do not dine out at restaurants very often - partially budget constraints but mainly because Raul enjoys cooking so much. When there is an opportunity it is embraced whole-heartedly and when, for work purposes, there happens to be a meal involved: all the better. This is R&D's fourth visit to Mysteriously Yours Mystery Dinner Theatre, 2026 Yonge St and Raul begins planning his choices before they have even left the apartment. Or he has even seen the menu. "Salmon or chicken, salmon or chicken," he ponders. "I know you'll go for the beef."

R&D began attending Mysteriously Yours when Drew was invited to do theatre reviews of their productions but this is the first time that they will be casting critical eyes and tastebuds on the culinary offerings. Dinner theatre has a bad reputation for the food being an afterthought - the show takes precedence, everything must be prepared and served in large quantities and quickly, the average dinner theatre patron is not gastronomically adventurous, etc - but this has never proven to be the case at Mysteriously Yours. Executive Chef Rossy Earle takes pride in her offerings and also sells a line of specialty products under the banner SupiCucu including a popular Diablo's Fuego hot sauce. Officially the food is labelled "fusion" reflecting Earle's Panamanian heritage, unofficially it means that familiar dishes have just a little more bite.

The current production is Upton Abbey which could loosely be described as Downton Abbey played for farce and with the addition of a few murders and a character based on Columbo. To this end the menu - and cocktails - have been tweaked to reflect and upper class British sensibility, more Upstairs, Downstairs than Coronation Street or pub fare. It is a warm summer evening so both choose to start with a Baby Spinach Waldorf Salad ("cherry tomatoes, grapes, celery, walnuts & apple vinaigrette"). "Fresh and lively," enthuses Drew though he notices that both eat the grapes first rather than blending all the flavours. They can be picky eaters.

Raul has the Chicken Lyonnaise ("with caramelized onion gravy, buttermilk red potato mash & green beans") while Drew, as Raul predicted, has the Braised Beef Pot Pie ("boneless beef rib, potatoes, mushrooms & vegetables braised in stout, topped with pastry"). The chicken is moist and tender and the gravy has a nice little after bite. The green beans absolutely glow with goodness and are cooked just the far side of al dente so that they are firm but don't quite crunch. The pot pie bursts with flavour and is packed with more meat and mushrooms than potatoes - no filler - and somehow the pastry remains flaky and light despite mass production.

Desserts arrive during the first intermission and Drew is extremely pleased, for the fourth time, with the Chocolate Brownie ("served with Triple Sec chocolate ganache"). He muses that he should have perhaps got into the theme of the evening and gone for the English Trifle but a chocoholic has to do what a chocoholic has to do. Raul is equally pleased with the Apple Crumble Tartlet ("with caramel sauce & whipped cream") and announces loudly, with a pat on his stomach, that it is surprisingly filling.

The service is, as always, impeccable, efficient and friendly (thanks Adrian) and the show is hilarious. Add in a delicious meal and Mysteriously Yours turns out to be a bargain. Raul crunches the numbers and pronounces the evening a smashing success.

Chocolate-Chip Drop Cookies

"These are the very first cookies I ever made," says Raul as he looks up from the Joy of Cooking that he has been reading. "I was just reading all your mom's notes in the margins and came across this. I must have been seven or eight and I borrowed the school's copy of the Joy of Cooking over the summer. Somewhere I found enough money for chocolate chips and we had the rest of the ingredients in the kitchen. I made them and ate them before anyone else got home that day."

"Just make sure you use real chocolate chips and not those chocolate-flavoured waxy ones," suggests Drew.

"Where do I find real chocolate chips?" asks Raul.

"If they don't have it at Food Basics," suggests Drew. "Just get a dark chocolate bar and I'll break into little chunks."

"Too much work," says Raul skeptically.

Fortunately Basics does carry real dark chocolate trips and no smashing and bashing is required. The only recipes Drew could find online were from the newer editions of the Joy of Cooking and they just are not the same. The edition that R&D have was Drew's mother's treasured copy that she gifted Drew when he was browsing the margin notes, they are fascinating and a mini-family history and they had a bonding nostalgic moment. Or perhaps she was just tired of answering phone calls about basic cooking questions - the original edition does really cover everything and in simple, plain language - the "what does one do with squash?" question being the breaking point.

In the absence of a link here is the recipe though Raul warns that although it states that it makes 45 cookies he was only able to stretch it to 43. Fortunately they are a delicious 43.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Cream:
1/2 cup butter
Add gradually and beat until creamy:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
Beat in:
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Sift and stir in:
1 cup and 2 tablespoons sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
 1/2 teaspoon soda
Drop the batter from a teaspoon (Raul uses the small ice cream scoop that he acquired to create photo-perfect mashed potato mounds), well apart, on a greased cookie sheet (Raul uses parchment paper to save on washing up). Bake for about 10 minutes.

The cookies - the ones that aren't eaten instantly - cool, and Raul gets to work on Drew's mother's classic oatmeal cookies which are a story for another entry.

Burgers and Key Lime Pie

The rainy and unseasonably cold weather finally breaks, and a busy Sunday is spent in the sun (Drew) and on the road (Raul). The sirloin tip steak (40% off at Food Basics because it was about to reach its best before date but instead went in the freezer to be preserved for when desired) is already thawed but a more summery, lighter and simpler meal is called for. Burgers. And the Key Lime Pie made yesterday that has been setting in the fridge. A perfect sunshine combo.

While Raul does the bbq'ing, Drew improvises the toppings (it is important to make him feel he contributes). Lots of rummaging in the fridge pulls forth a combo that works and has a bite: slices of marble cheddar, chopped heritage tomato, minced garlic, Miracle Whip, wasabi mustard and corn relish. Slapdash, a little pretentious, but utterly delicious. And the combo redeems the slightly disappointing Selection quarter pound beef burgers that were bought speculatively on sale instead of the favoured Schneiders Beef Steakettes. Mickey, the dog, gets a third burger all to himself and gives it an unqualified rave before faking starvation and begging for more. Drew not-so-secretly hopes that Raul will get another dose of ambition and once again create burgers from scratch. The last batch, though they did crumble a bit on the bbq, were spectacular, meaty and juicy. Maybe the next time ground beef is on sale.

The Key Lime pie is a masterpiece: especially considering it began as a lark when the mix came on sale at Sobeys for 99 cents a box. While stocking up on Shirriff Lemon Pie Filling and Dessert Mix - Raul's lemon meringue pie with blueberries (idea courtesy of Drew's Mom's garden creator, cat nail clipper and all-round saviour, Dale) is a melt in the mouth taste sensation - a sweet little old lady eyed the overflowing basket and admonished, "You're ambitious." Her husband immediately retorted, "You should be so ambitious," and pointedly placed a box in their basket. Next time Raul intends to add some lime juice and, well who knows what else but his mind is whirring, to give the key lime pie it a bit more pizazz and enough bite to match Drew's carefully constructed burger toppings.

Though a sophisticated pre-Tony Awards dinner was considered de rigueur, the casual bbq'ed burgers and light-as-air but twice-as-tasty pie prove perfect for rejoicing in Andrea Martin's win. Raul tears up during a performance of "My Own Little Corner" from Cinderella because it reminds him of his childhood in the Azores with an actual hearth, Drew just gets annoyed because Harvey Fierstein never gives a speech. Another piece of pie cures both.