Doris Plum wins a little blog award!

Hello my little sushi rolls,

Well you'll never guess what happened. Ginger at Self Conscious Posturing tagged me as one of seven Stylish Bloggers. Basically it's a wee blog award that is then passed on to other Stylish Bloggers in the blogosphere.

Those tagged as stylish bloggers must reveal seven interesting factoids about themselves before passing the nomination on to other deserving candidates. The whole idea is to consolidate the blogging community, develop new readers and friendships and say HURRAH for producing content that people like to read when they are otherwise unoccupied.

So, I shan't delay. My seven maybe-interesting nuggets are:

1. [OCD alert.] I organise my wardrobe into garment order (left to right: tops, skirts, dresses, trousers, jackets, coats, dressing gowns) and then arrange each segment in colour order (lightest to darkest). I've done this since I was twelve, lord knows why. I'm not even a very tidy person, but the wardrobe has to be perfect.

2. I grew up on an tangelo/kiwifruit orchard in a little rural community called Bethlehem, which is in Tauranga, New Zealand.

3. My favourite flowers are tulips. They have so much historical, economic, and artistic baggage (cf. Dutch speculation in tulip bulbs in the 17th Century). And they are pretty, which helps. Pretty always helps.

4. One day I want to make a 'Thumbelina' Christmas dinner; a single baby quail for each diner, plus baby carrots, baby beetroot, baby spinach... wouldn't it be the best?

5. I don't have any tattoos. Not even one. I had a bunch of piercings in my teens and early twenties (including a sizable silver spike under my lip) but now I don't even wear earrings.

6. My favourite music to cook to is Patsy Cline. I put on my apron, sing along to Patsy, stir my pots and just feel like life couldn't be better. Never fails to cheer me up. Sweet indie bands can make good music to cook to as well. I actually discovered two new ones last week: Tennis and Spring Breakup. Check them out!

7. My mother is a personal trainer. She's an absolute machine and is in far better shape than me.


So my nominations are...
- Antonie at Antonie Hates
- Ellen at Little Hometown to a Big Ol' City
- Jeremiah at Foreignish Fotos
- Sarah at Girls and Bicycles
- Nigel at Toronto Verve
- Jo at Hubris
- All the ladies at Pretty Pretty Pretty


To leave you on a foodie high, here is an oldie but a goodie: Alie and Georgia Present Ham Daiquiri. You like ham? You like alcohol? You like pineapple? This is for you.

Love,

Doris

Iconic Canadian Drunk-Food

Hello my little cream puffs,

So you may have seen my little preamble video about donairs in Halifax. The video of me actually EATING the donair got chopped into bits (too big to email!), so I took it down. Technical issues seem to be plaguing me right now - it's a fairly consistent theme. BUT onwards and upwards as my mother would say.

THE DONAIR IN REVIEW
You can read a little more about the donair in my previous post on the subject. Upon sampling, I felt the donair was pretty odd to be honest, but I can imagine it would have been fantastic had I been maybe two whiskeys drunker. The garlic sauce was so sweet it almost constituted dessert, and the meat had this sausagey aftertaste that I wasn't overly keen on. I couldn't actually finish it, but luckily I had two *lovely* ladies to help me out. On a ratings scale of one plum to five plums, I would give it two plums.

BUT!
Much better on the Iconic Canadian Drunk-Food front is poutine. Poutine! It's just fries, gravy and cheese curds but holy moley, it is delicious. See picture above. I arrived in Toronto almost two weeks ago, and I've had two variations on the poutine theme; plain poutine from a pub called Clinton's (excellent, surprisingly good gravy for a vegetarian dish), and a duck poutine from Prohibition on Queen St East (slightly blander, soupier gravy, but the duck on top was very good indeed).

Toronto is pretty much foodie heaven, so I'm pretty excited about eating my way around it. And this weekend I'm going to Kensington Markets, which is supposed to be pretty wonderful. I've been so excited about eating out that I haven't cooked at home very much, so I promise to post some exotic new recipe soon...

Much love,

Doris

The Donair! Part One.

The news in brief...

Montreal bagels! Shazam! My friend here in Halifax had some stashed away in the freezer and they are fantastic. Thin, chewy, liberally sprinkled with sesame seeds and love. Served up with cream cheese and homemade rasberry jelly, this is a Canadian WIN on the culinary front.

That is all.

xxxxLove, Doris

Halifax is a bit nippy, eh.

My dear little peach pies,

Well, I made it into Canada. I had a wretched time saying goodbye to everyone I met during my last nine months living in the backwoods of Massachusetts (my Halifaxian friend Abby rather helpfully pointed out that I could have had a baby in that time). However, fresh beginnings are exciting. Yes indeed! New city, new flatmates, new job, and new food.

The first night I was here, Abby cooked me fresh linguine with lemon zest, basil, smoked ham, and cream. We drank red wine and had a haphazard catch up on the last six years. It was a pretty simple dish but it was exactly what I needed in a time of transition - and somehow that magical alchemy of a familiar face, carbs and alcohol made me feel right at home. Brilliant.

I'm only here in Halifax until Saturday, so I asked Abby what dishes might be considered uniquely Halifaxian so I could sample some new things while I'm here. Unfortunately she wasn't able to volunteer many options, as not many exist. One thing she did mention was the famous (infamous?) Donair. According to good old Wikipedia, a donair is a variation on the doner kebab. It was originally introduced in Halifax, Nova Scotia in the early 1970s. A restaurant called King of Donair claims to have been the first to serve this version in 1973. The owners of King of Donair had originally tried selling Greek Gyro sandwiches, but had a hard time selling them so replaced the lamb with beef and the tzatziki with a sweet garlic sauce, thus inventing the Donair.

Well how 'bout that? I have a feeling I might need to have a few beers before attempting to consume this Canuk delicacy. Any thoughts, my little sausages? I'll let you know whether this culinary adventure eventuates or not... If you care to cast a vote or simply volunteer an opinion, you can comment on this post or email me: dorisplum(at)gmail.com.

Love, Doris

Eating out in Portland, Maine? Pretty much the Best Thing Ever.

For my final American roadtrip, Pascoli and I went to Portland, Maine. The only thing I knew about Maine was that it has good seafood, so I vowed from the outset to try and eat the ocean's bounty at every single meal. I love a good self imposed challege and very nearly succeeded. Here's a very quick review of the highlights:

Oven-baked garlic mussels at Fore Street. These plump little parcels of deliciousness caused me to make noises that I would not normally share with a public audience. The sourdough served to mop up the juices just about had me on my knees in worship too. Nicely chewy, proper crust, plenty of wonderful sourdough bubbles. Fore Street is pretty famous in Maine (and beyond), and they recommend booking about five years in advance and putting your hypothetical firstborn down as collateral. But you should totally do what we did: rock up with no reservation and eat appetizers in the lounge. This is food cooked with care and intelligence.

Lobster Roll at Becky's Diner. Imagine your usual lobster roll: finely shredded bits of lobster meat, heavy on the mayo, generic bun. My lobster roll from Becky's blew that shit out of the water. It had two claws full of meat, left intact so you know it hasn't come mass produced from five different crustaceans. Lightly toasted yeasty bun, crunchy iceberg. Becky's Diner is right on the waterfront, and is open at 4am to cater to their fishermen clientele. Totally unpretentious and pretty awesome all round.

Clam Chowder at Gilberts. Another waterfront joint, Gilberts is famous for its award winning chowder. I loved my chowder, but disappointed with my side of oysters, which tasted bland and were a bit heavy on the batter. Still, great chowder is great chowder. Worth a visit.

Sushi at Benkay. We missed out on Rock n Roll Sushi night at Benkay (at 10pm every Saturday they serve sushi along with rock n roll music and a laser light show - holy shit!) but we went for lunch the next day instead. The sushi was super fresh, imaginative, and beautifully presented. The bathroom had a large scale print of a Japanese mermaid getting fondled by a hapless admirer. The soysauce came in tiny teapots. The wakame salad was the best I've ever eaten; lemony, great texture, well balanced, right temperature. Win all round.


I won't give a run down of every crumb that passed my lips in Portland, but suffice to say, if you like seafood (fresh, tasty, and treated with respect) you'll love Portland.

Love, Doris Plum

PS: I'm leaving the States tomorrow! I'll be sure to fill you in on my culinary adventures in Halifax next week though...

Philly Cheesesteak TICK

I recently enjoyed my first authentic Philly Cheesesteak. I was on my way back from a weekend trip to Washington DC, and took a little detour to Philadelphia on the way home to sample this unique American... well I use the term "delicacy" loosely.

For the uninitiated, a Philly Cheesesteak consists of thinly sliced strips of steak and melted cheese in a long roll.

It's been around since the 1930s, with various iterations over the years (it was originally served minus cheese, with chopped steak instead of sliced).

Whilst there are many cheesesteak places in Philadelphia - and indeed, throughout the States - there is a particularly fierce rivalry between Pat's and Geno's.

I chose Geno's, for no real reason at all. It's a hole-in-the-wall style place with bright red tiling, a line-cook who looks like he's spent some time in a local penitentiary, and "We Support Our Troops" plastered across every formica surface. Other gems included: "This is America, when ordering please speak English," and "Land of the Free BECAUSE of the Brave."

Poetic, isn't it?

So anyway, the cheesesteak. I was a bit scared of the Cheese Whiz variety, despite the NY Times calling this canned orange monstrosity "the sine qua non of cheesesteak connoisseurs." I went for the provolone option instead. I was pretty excited about trying out this iconic dish, but... I really can't think of much to say about it.

There was meat. There was cheese. And there was bread. It was well cooked but not imaginatively so. Nor was I expecting it to be. It's a Philly cheesesteak. Ta-da! Ticked off my list. I bet kids *love* these things, they are easy to chew and pretty bland and inoffensive. I think that's part of the reason for the intense cheesesteak love; people have all this nostalgia leftover from childhood cheesesteak experiences.

I'm sorry Philadelphians - it just didn't light my fire. Or as the lovely Sarah Jane would say, "It didn't exactly blow my skirt up." Cheesesteak lovers, please don't hunt me down for saying this on the interwebs. Remember, Philadephia is the city of brotherly love... Hmm? No?