I didn’t even have a chance to prepare a Halifax favourites post before actually leaving Halifax – too busy wrapping up school & jobs. As time consuming as that was, I’m now done, back in lovely Ottawa, and have the time to share a few of my favourite spots in Halifax.
What’re your favourites? I’m sure there are many places I didn’t even get a chance to try, as my time there flew by so quickly!
- Ace Burger (@aceburgerco) - the classic & deluxe – such a busy place, you’re lucky if you get a seat!
- Sugah (@SugahHFX) – blueberry ice cream with fog burner coffee mix-in – zillions of combos available
- Tom’s Little Havana (@TomsHavana) – scotch night & cards – what beats drinks, eats & games? Also, this used to be a cigar bar, making it even more fantastic!
- Two if by Sea (@Twoifbyseacafe) - croissants beyond belief – both in Halifax & Dartmouth
- Propeller (@PropellerBeer) & Garrison (@GarrisonBrewing) – local seasonal & standard brews, as well as growlers (best deal)
- Hamachi Kita (@HamachiHouse) - salmon & tuna maki with tempura (yes!) & lots of other fresh options
- Julien’s Bakery (@JuliensHydro) - the most delicious almond croissants, brioche & café
- Charlie’s Club - cheapest pool in town
Some photo creds to Kevin James
Actually. Lemon really is the best. I’ll be honest, I’ve had zero time for making anything photo / blog worthy, as school is wrapping up and I’m close to graduation (!!). While school’s ending soon, I thought I’d do a quick round-up of some must-try recipes featuring lemon as a key ingredient. Obviously, I’m missing lots of options, so please suggest your favourites!
Meyer Lemon Loaf - Sprouted Kitchen
Lavender and Lemon Cloud Cupcakes - Sweetapolita
Lemon Poppy Seed Cupcakes with
Lemon Curd Filling & Blueberry Cream Cheese Frosting - Adventures in Cooking
Blueberry-lemon Coffee Cake - Sweet Pea’s Kitchen
I’ve been trying to think of ways to switch up some of my staple meals in an effort to be a bit more healthy and eat more veggies. This salad is one that my mother made over the holidays and it was a hit with everyone that tried it. As you may know, I love recipes that don’t really need to be followed precisely. Once I got a sense of the basic ingredients for the salad and dressing, I customized this recipe for what I had on hand and what I wanted to eat.
In the salad:
- 1 1/5 cups lentils
- 1/2 cup cooked wheat berries
- 1/4 yellow pepper
- 1/4 cup broccoli
- 1/2 zucchini
- 2 stalks green onion
- 1/4 cup grape tomatoes
In the dressing:
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 1/8 cup red wine vinegar
- 1/4 tsp cumin
- 1/4 tsp curry powder
- 1/4 tsp cinnamon
All of the above are pretty approximate, so definitely experiment and make the recipe suit your own tastes. As for the veggies, everything is finely chopped and the wheat berries are cooled before being mixed in. Once you get the contents all together, add the dressing, mix, and serve!
On another note, I currently have a lovely loaf of whole wheat, seven grain, cranberry loaf rising and waiting for the oven. Another post will follow shortly!
[A guest post by my dear friend, Amit Ajwani]
Wellington shares its name with many famed things, one of them being a Duke. Adding to its snobby appeal, even its name is capitalized. This was a source of great segregation in the past.
“Mi lord, may’ive a bit more beef wellington please?”
“It is Beef Wellington, you fishwife. Make that mistake thrice and I shall have you killed.”
This sort of back and forth was common amongst the classes.
I typically shy away from costly and elaborate home-cooked meals for peasantry’s sake, so I never really knew what Beef Wellington was. I just knew that it was a classic and opulent English dish, and a likely candidate for one of the most sacred Christmas dinner traditions of all: oneupmanship.
In its essence, Beef Wellington is the finest cut of beef, the tenderloin, used for fillet mignon, seared in a hot pan and basted with English mustard, then wrapped in prosciutto (or foie gras, if you are an especially horrible person), a paste of tasty seasoned mushrooms called a duxelles, all rolled up in pastry, and baked as you would any baked thing.
Serving a Beef Wellington is nothing short of dramatic. You slice into what appears to be a dense loaf of bread, and it bleeds steamy pink meat juices. It’s magical, in an odd sort of way, like you’re a child again, experiencing wonder for the first time, combined with the feeling that something’s just been murdered.
“Mi lord, how’d the beef get in’ere?” an especially classless voice pipes up. “Issit witches agin? Mi lord, iffit’s witches, may be burns dem?”