A Perfect Sunday: Visiting Fort Langley

On a recent weekend, my hubby promised me a blog-worthy outing that would allow me to indulge in some of my favourite idle pursuits. Walking, daydreaming, picture-taking...all at the contented slow-mo pace that suits me best when chores are done, work is tucked safely away for the weekend and the pantry is stocked with endless possibilities for meal-making. Yes, I'm talking Sunday. A sunny one at that!

So, on a beautiful October Sunday we crossed to South side of the Fraser River and meandered throught the countryside to the Salmon River Trail. A modest walk along the riverbank through grassy fields, scrubby bushes and cottonwoods that leads to historic Fort Langley. Fort Langley is a dreamy little village chock-a-block with heritage buildings, antique stores, tea shops, galleries and, of course, a 19th century fort - one of the first on the Canadian west coast.

On this particular Sunday, we didn't visit the fort itself (well worth a Sunday afternoon of it's own and a great spot to take visitors). Our first stop was at a roadside stand to buy some tiny sugar pumpkins. Oh, I love these pumpkins! So cute, so round, so jolly! They are my one weakness, and I emptied my wallet of loonies and bundled an armful into the car.

Our next stop was the Salmon River Trail, where we stood and watched the water snake toward the Fraser. A truly idyllic little waterway, and easy to imagine long-ago picnics on its banks or berry-picking children splashing among the bushes.

The trail took us to the banks of the Fraser - it forks around McMillan Island, and we followed the South Fork - greeting other couples, annoying the cyclists and generally dawdling and stopping to discuss and photograph whatever caught our imaginations.

A boat lazily navigates the Fraser.

The church on McMillan Island

Cottonwoods against the blue, blue, sky.

Once we got into Fort Langley proper we browsed through gift shops, admired antiques and stopped to read plaques and markers. Time stretched in such a luxurious way on this particular afternoon that we were not surprised to find ourselves at the perfect time in the perfect place - teatime at Tracycakes! We stopped for tea, cranberry scones and cucumber sandwiches - Tracycakes is a sweet little cupcake house where our bill was presented on a silver tray accompanied by inspirational sayings for us to take home. Tea, cupcakes, and inspiration. My kind of place! (not to mention the very clever black & white decor).

Antiques and collectibles line the sidewalks.







A plaque commemorating...something. (It was really interesting at the time!)

 

A classy touch at Tracycakes.



Pumpkin, bench, pig.
  

Fully satisfied by our afternoon tea, we took to the other side of the main street, peeked in a few more windows, bought some cozy early Christmas pajamas for me and then wandered back along the trail to our waiting car. On the way home we spotted a shameless cranberry bog displaying its redness in the almost-twilight. I wasn't the only picture-taker gobsmacked by the scene.

Cranberries are a many-splendoured thing...

Patience on the bog...

We arrived home full of fresh air, happy weariness and Devon cream. Some time later, I snuggled into my new PJs, warmed up a most delicious mushroom tart and turned on an episode of Doc Martin. Our perfect Sunday turned into a perfectly contented Sunday night. All within twenty minutes of home. *Sigh*

Visit them online:

Historic Fort Langley
Tracycakes
Doc Martin on Wikipedia

Sharing the Love of Food

Today I figured out how to add a page to my blog. Big doins' I know! In keeping with my philosophy of the 'the power of small', I am revelling in this little accomplishment and decided to use it as a space to post recipes, thus I've creatively named the page 'Recipes' and I've posted one. Ahem.

(Note: not sure if I will be able to post another one, so enjoy this one!)

The debut recipe is for Caramel Pecan Tart - a favourite dessert for patrons of Chez Piggy, a well-known restaurant in Kingston, Ontario. Hubby went to Queens University and, ten years ago,  as part of our courtship trip back through time to all the places we'd lived, worked and studied (well, studied - at least in his case) we visited Kingston and had a beautiful summer lunch in the sun-dappled Chez Piggy courtyard.

Kingston is well worth the visit - site of Fort Henry, where hubby spent summers dressed as a 19th century British guardsmen, guiding tourists - full of wonderful old stone buildings, great shops and good eats.

Chez Piggy itself was opened in a renovated limestone livery stable by Rose Richardson and Zal Yanovsky. Yanovsky played with The Lovin' Spoonful - so apt for someone destined to share his love of food and a healthy appetite for the good life.

I'm happy to share their recipe for Caramel Pecan Tart. It's become a favourite of friends and family here at the West Coast, one I regularly serve as a 'company' dessert. I like to dress it up with some whipped cream, and once in awhile I even salute it, Fort Henry style.

http://www.chezpiggy.com/

http://www.forthenry.com/francais/index.htm

Foraging for Food: How about it?



Braised Squirrel Aurora

Just a quick little post about discovering Hank Shaw's Hunter Angler Gardener Cook blog today. Just love it. Talk about a DIY guy. Also very keen about his decision to follow his dream and embrace his life philosophy. He is truly living at the edge. His recipes are mouthwatering and definitely portray real food. I've posted a link to his blog in my faves list.

I must admit I can't see myself foraging in quite the same way, although I do love my weird little garden and growing the plants that sprout as volunteers from the compost pile. Come to think of it, there are an awful lot of fat squirrels scurrying around the yard. Hmmmm.

Soup: Soul Satisfying Food

There is something about a pot of home-made soup simmering on the stove that gives me comfort. In fact soup-making is my one weakness, and it doesn't take much in the way of motivation to get me started. I keep organic chicken stock in the pantry, and save and freeze veggie cooking water, and of course any bones or remnants of roasted fowl or beast end up in the stock pot or frozen for later use. I have actually been known to invite a dozen people over for turkey dinner, just so I can save the carcass. Seriously.

I make soup by instinct, and my instincts usually tell me that the fresher the better for your veggies and that butter and cream are great additions to just about anything you have on hand. Yes, I am channelling Julia Child. And this doesn't just apply to soup. I was moved to make the soup that is the topic of this blog after buying some gorgeous bunches of celery and a basket of fresh mushrooms at one of the last Farmer's Markets of the season.

 

This particular soup really needs garden or farm fresh celery. It has a much more delicate stalk, more abundant leaves and its taste is incredibly pungent, and - well - celery-flavoured. Now is the time to get the last of it.

And mushrooms. These beauties are from the Shan Ming Mushroom Farm in Maple Ridge B.C. They are gorgeously flavoured - musky and earthy. And just-picked (plucked?) fresh.

Because I cook by instinct, these measures are approximate, but they should get you through to a beautiful, flavourful autumn soup that marries celery and mushrooms in a creamy, delicious fall meal. My basic rule is keep tasting. Adjust as it moves you!

1/4 c butter
2 c fresh celery stems & leaves, chopped
Medium onion, chopped
3-4 lge King Oyster mushrooms - stems chopped, tops sliced
6-9 button mushrooms - sliced
Bunch of Enoki mushrooms - long stems chopped, otherwise leave whole
(Or any other mushroom combo of your choice)

1/2 c white wine

3 c chicken or vegetable stock

Sea salt

Freshly ground pepper

1 c heavy cream

Melt butter in bottom of  your favourite heavy soup pot. Add chopped onion and lightly saute for 3-5 mins. Add chopped celery and leaves. Add sliced mushrooms (reserve Enokis). Sweat these together covered until celery is soft and mushrooms are limp. Salt and pepper to taste. Add white wine and simmer for a few minutes. Add chicken or vegetable stock (or both) and simmer for about 30 mins. Add the Enokis just a couple of minutes before you add the cream. (about five minutes before serving). If soup is bubbling, reduce the heat before you add cream. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve with love.

Falling for Autumn



 It is already full dark and not yet 7 o'clock in the evening. Fall is upon us. As much as I lament the loss of summer, there is a sweet anticipation in the Fall, when the leaves turn and crackle underfoot and the air is chill and tainted with smoke. Not quite mittens, but certainly sweater time, and a fine time for brisk walks. hot tea and good company. Today, I took the garden out.

Squash, beans and tomatoes nearly filled my basket. I managed to rescue a couple of ripe Black Krims from bandity raccoons - their greedy paws and sharp teeth snatching the best from the vine (how do they know?). The rest I'll ripen safely indoors, wrapped in newspaper in a cardboard box. The herbs are neatly trimmed and the little space under the stairs looks a bit barren as a few straggling vines cling to the trellis and the tomatoe stakes stand empty.

Yesterday, we attended one of the last outdoor Farmer's Markets for the year. A gloomy, overcast day broke into clear sunshine and blue sky and market-goers lingered, having formed friendships over the summer, sharing recipe ideas and pointing out favourite vendors.

Loaded stalls were filled with summer's harvest. Cranberries and carrots, squash, garlic, celery, potatoes and peppers, cauliflower (*swoon*) and corn. Honey. And mushrooms, those earthy, naked denizens of Fall.  We filled up packsacks and shopping bags and brought a bounty home with us.

I devoted  the afternoon to cranberry sauce making.Thanksgiving is just around the corner - next weekend for those of us in Canada, and Christmas is not just a remote possibility any more.

Tonight I am making fresh Cream of Celery and Autumn Mushroom Soup. Fresh pungent celery and King & Enoki mushrooms. It is simmering on the stove as a type. There is that sweet anticipation, again. Soup. Soon. Yum.

And the other anticipations - what will winter bring? And the pause as the garden slumbers - what will grow there next year?

Autumn is like the rest between the notes in music, so important  in the composition. Fall, it seems, makes me a little philosophical too. How about you?