Roasted Apple Sauce

An adorable little girl knocked on my door a couple of weeks ago and offered to sell me some apples for her school's fundraising efforts. Who could resist? I ordered 10 lbs of local McIntosh apples; since they're such a great cooking apple, I've been dreaming of what I want to do with them ever since.
Apple sauce, which I've never made before, was the first thing on my list. While I originally had planned to cook it on the stove, I came across a few recipes that used a roasting method. Since I love what roasting does to food, my interest was certainly piqued!

Now that I've made my own apple sauce, I realize that the hardest part is peeling and coring the apples. Needless to say, apple sauce is now on my list of Things People Should Make Themselves Instead of Buying.

Since I'm much more likely to eat apple sauce on pork or cottage cheese as opposed to on ice cream, I barely sweetened mine. A couple of tablespoons of dark brown sugar were all I added; then, on a whim, I drizzled in about a tablespoon of maple syrup. I mixed the sweetened apples with apple juice and lemon juice, a few generous shakes of nutmeg, and a pinch of salt.

I poured the apple chunks into a roasting pan and nestled a couple of cinnamon sticks and a few shavings of lemon peel among them.

After roasting until the house smelled divine, I removed the cinnamon sticks and lemon peel, and stirred the apples. They just fell apart! I used a potato masher to smooth it out a little bit, but it didn't take very much work.

This apple sauce is delicious! It's spicy, with a deep, concentrated apple flavour, and just a bit of sweetness, and I'm not ashamed to say it's the best I've ever had. I'd love to try making some more with the addition of cranberries or blueberries.

I think I'll leave a little bit of it stored in the fridge for this week, and then freeze the rest in small portions. Besides eating it with pork or cottage cheese, as I mentioned earlier, can anyone suggest other ways to use it? Please let me know!

However, even if you don't, I suspect I'll be just fine eating it on its own.

Roasted Apple Sauce: The Recipe

Ingredients

4 lbs apples (12 large, 16 small) peeled, cored, and chopped

1 cup apple cider or apple juice

juice of 1 lemon

2 tbsp dark brown sugar

1 tbsp pure maple syrup

1/2 tsp nutmeg

pinch salt

2 cinnamon sticks

few shavings lemon peel

Directions

Toss apples with juices, sugar, maple syrup, nutmeg and salt. Pour into a roasting pan and add cinnamon sticks and lemon peel. Roast in a 400F oven for 45 minutes. Remove cinnamon and lemon peel, and mash with a potato masher.

Enjoy!

Embracing Fat

Like any other person in our society who watches TV, reads magazines, and associates with other human beings, I am constantly bombarded by two little words. Two words that make my skin crawl, two words that invite me to bash my head against my desk, two tiny little words that represent everything I think is wrong with the way we eat.

Those two little words? "Low" and "Fat".

I have rage, people! Low-Fat Rage! I hate how "low-fat" has become the gold standard qualifier against which we judge the nutritional value of food. Actually, in a lot of cases, "food." Here are some food items that you may hear are worth gorging on, due to the fact that they're low in fat (or, LOW-FAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! as certain magazines love to exclaim):

-angel food cake

-gummy bears

-jelly beans

-marshmallows

-Crystal Light

-Frosted Flakes

-birch bark

That list sure represents the foundations of a healthy diet. I wonder why those clowns over at Canada's Food Guide haven't jumped all over this!

In all seriousness, it's a shame that fat has gotten such a bad rap over the years. Every single cell in your body is made up of fat. Your brain? Mostly fat! Fat fuels us. Why has it become the Boogey Man?

We have been misled, for years, about what is healthy for our bodies. It's no longer a secret that most food that is labelled as low-fat contains a terrifying amount of sugar (which, in abundance, is actually more like the Boogey Man, if you ask me, but I digress.) Forget our bodies for a second. What about our minds? We've been made to beat ourselves up and measure our self worth over what tasty things we put in our bellies! That's no way to live.

You know what tastes great? Butter. Eggs. Cheese. Cream. Real mayonnaise. Olive oil.

You know what tastes awful? Guilt.

Just let it go! I promise that you will be much happier. Isn't that what really matters? A few years ago, after reading In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan, and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingslover, I decided to forget all of my Fat Guilt. It felt so wrong for a while, but I soon got used to my 2% milk, regular cheese, full-fat mayonnaise, and butter, because my life was so rich (pun intended) with deliciousness.

I have news for those who read things like this and say, "My stars! That's so unhealthy! Surely you're sabotaging your health by eating such evil things as butter!" Actually, eating fat does not equal getting fatter. Since making the transition to eating real food (that is, anything that grows in the ground, or on trees, or comes from an animal) I have never been healthier. I'm in better shape and at a lower weight than I ever was when I eat what I had been brainwashed into thinking was good for me. Even though I include fat in my diet, my blood pressure is in the healthy lower range, and the results from my routine blood work are better than average. My doctor loves me!

Here's the thing about real, natural fat: it tastes so good, that you only need a little. A small piece of real applewood smoked cheddar is far more satisfying than an entire block of low-fat, rubbery cheese. I'd rather eat one tablespoon of real, thick, 6% fat yogurt lightly sweetened with honey or maple syrup, than an entire 750mL container of thin, runny, non-fat yogurt sweetened with acid rain, or whatever it is they put in there.

So, in the spirit of embracing fat, I thought I would share part of what I had for brunch this morning. Since it's Saturday, I wanted it to be special.

I whisked three eggs with a splash of milk and some kosher salt, and poured it into a pan that was coated in a bit of sizzling butter.

I added some feta cheese, which was left over from Greek Finger Food Night (a popular Friday night meal at our place.)

Once I folded the omelette, I put some more cheese on top, just to make it look pretty.

I then finished it off with a dollop of tzatziki sauce. Mmmmm...

I'm convinced that if I had instead made an egg-white-from-a-carton omelette fried in margarine or cooking spray, with low-fat cheese and a dollop of non-fat yogurt, my foodie self would have been so unsatisfied, that I would have run to the store and bought an armload of (LOW-FAT!!!!!!) licorice for lunch to console myself. OK, maybe I'm exaggerating...but right now I feel satisfied, nourished, and, most of all, content. And nothing tastes better than that.

Memories of Tzatziki

Growing up in Fredericton, New Brunswick, I was exposed to amazing Greek food; in fact, the quality of the Greek food is one of the things I am most proud of about my hometown. As a young girl, I developed an obsession with tzatziki sauce, the so-garlicky-it-burns condiment made of cucumber and yogurt. Whether I slathered it on pita while I shared a cold pikilia platter with my mom at Dimitri’s, or eat it spread on a Pano’s donair for breakfast at the Boyce Farmer’s Market on Saturday, tzatziki sauce has always held a very special place in my heart. I’ve eaten it with a spoon from the Styrofoam takeout container, people; true love knows no manners.

Now that I live in the neighbouring city of Moncton, I find myself hard to please when it comes to my favourite condiment. While there is a perfectly lovely Mediterranean restaurant here, it does not specifically identify itself as Greek; therefore, its version of tzatziki, which is neither thick nor garlicky enough for my tastes, just isn’t the same. Grocery store brand obviously won’t do, either, so what’s a girl to do? Well, this girl makes it herself.

I read dozens of online recipes for tzatziki sauce, and combined elements from the ones that sounded most like what I can get at home. After little tweaks here and there, I finally have a formula that I love to call my own.

If you think tzatziki is only good for pita bread or donairs, think again. I make it every single weekend in the summer, because it is so versatile. I love it as a condiment for sausage, chicken, burgers, steak, pork tenderloin, or potatoes, as a dip with any vegetable, dolloped on top of an omelette, as a dressing for pasta salad, and in a big bowl surrounded by chips or crackers. The possibilities are endless.

While it would be nice to be able to run out and pick up a container of delicious tzatziki sauce whenever I please, I don’t mind taking the time to make my own. It’s rewarding to satisfy my cravings in my own kitchen, by successfully recreating a taste that I've always adored. However, even though I really enjoy my own version of tzatziki, some things just can’t be changed: when I’m at Mom and Dad’s, it’s Greek takeout all the way.

Tzatziki Sauce: The Recipe

Amanda’s notes: Since I can’t get Greek yogurt around here, I buy the thickest I can find, Balkan-style yogurt (6% M.F.), and strain it to thicken it even more. This can be done by placing a couple of layers of paper towel in a sieve, adding the yogurt, and sitting the sieve on top of a bowl in the fridge overnight. Discard liquid.

Because there is a lot of water in cucumber, after grating and salting, I squeeze out as much as I can by scooping it into paper towel or a clean dishtowel, and wringing.

Unlike the smooth tzatziki I grew up with, this one is chunky from the grated, skin-on cucumber. If you’d like a smoother texture, you could peel then puree your cucumber in a food processor before adding it to the yogurt.

I usually use about 6 cloves of garlic, but I really like the sting. Use 3 or 4 if you’re unsure, and more if you’re a fanatic (I once used 10, but it was bad for my social life).

Ingredients
1 large container Greek yogurt (about 2 cups)
1 cucumber, grated
6 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 tbsp olive oil
1-2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
Salt
Paprika

Directions
Whisk olive oil and lemon juice in the bottom of a bowl. Fold in yogurt. Add cucumber and garlic; mix well. Salt to taste. Let tzatziki sit in the refrigerator for at least a few hours before serving. Garnish with paprika. Enjoy!