Windmills Café: Dim but Delicious – January 31, 2009

I briefly considered skipping over this set of pictures because of the crappy quality. I am not a good photographer, by any means. When tourists ask me to take their picture, I always wonder if they’ll end up with a shot of my finger, or if I’ve accidentally cut someone out. It seems like all of the compositional skills went to Christine. Couple that with my arsenal of below-standard cameras (see note on the left-hand side), and you’ve got yourself some incredibly grainy shots of... actually, I can barely make out what I photographed! It was incredibly dark in the restaurant, which I think is my only complaint.

But I figured I don’t ever remember to take pictures when I’m dining out, so I might as well post these pics and write a short blurb. Anyway, ignore this post if your eyes are prone to bleeding after being assaulted by bad pictures.


Jimmy and I have been ignoring non-Asian restaurants because they are just too expensive. I can either choose a $28 steak dinner for one person, or spend $28 IN TOTAL for an appetizer, three entrées, drinks, tax, and tips (I am referring to Little Saigon’s dirt cheap menu, by the way) which fills two people. Although we went to the Keg a month before, my taste buds were dying for something not based on soy, oyster, or fish sauce. We decided on Windmills Café.

Every time we visit Windmills, we order their mussels. One night two or three years ago, we had their house mussels (double-smoked bacon in a white wine broth), and I just about swooned. So far, we’ve enjoyed every version they’ve made. This time around, we ordered one that we’ve ordered before—mussels with chorizo. I think it’s called the Portuguese. The dish is packed with flavour and spices from the chorizo, and I’m so happy they bring it out with a basket of bread. We ended up asking for another basket of bread to soak up the mollusc juice. Incidentally, we inhaled this appetizer before I remembered to bust out my camera phone, so no pics. Oops.

Jimmy wasn’t feeling particularly hungry that night, which is shocking, for anyone who knows him, so he ordered the charcuterie plate. It had some tangy cured duck breast, buttery prosciutto, spicy salami, fragrant pâté, and gamey venison sausage. The plate also came with slices of baguette and some tasty little olives. Jimmy didn’t like the duck breast because it looked raw to him. I happily devoured the little slices of slippery meat. He did love everything else. He mentioned that they were all salty (duh, it’s CURED) which means instant win in his books. Any other day, I would have stolen his plate for myself, but lucky for him, my food arrived an instant after his.

I ordered the salmon with some sort of glaze (apricot?). It came with sautéed vegetables and basmati rice. I remember the dish struck a delicate balance between salty, sweet, and tangy. The salmon was perfectly cooked, more fluffy than flaky. I loved the just-barely-cooked vegetable sticks. They were tender on the outside and crunchy through the middle. I know one was carrot, but I’m at a complete loss as to what the other vegetables were. One of the white ones tasted... earthy. Like celery root, but less celery. Similar to fennel, but minus the anise flavour.

Anyway, I loved the dish. It was a dish that demonstrated the skill of the chef who came up with it. The flavours complemented each other in every forkful. Often in a dish that contains so many flavours and textures, some parts begin to blend together. Here, the salmon was perfectly salty, the rice perfectly fluffy and fragrant, the vegetables perfectly crunchy and buttery, and the glaze perfectly sticky, sweet, and tangy. I found a dish that appealed to my taste buds as well as my appreciation for creativity. For the moment, it’s my FAVOURITE fusion dish. Definitely a must-try.

For dessert, we ordered the crème brûlée. (Yes, this is already half-eaten.) It’s one of my favourite desserts to order and also happens to be the one for which I have the highest standards. I prefer a room-temperature custard with a crispy, and not crunchy, topping. The custard had obviously been in the fridge (cold ramekins) before they blowtorched the sugar, so it lost a few points with me. However, the top half of the custard was warm from the aforementioned blowtorch, making me very happy. The topping wasn’t quite crispy, but it wasn’t crunchy either. It was... crinchy. Too thick to be crispy, too thin to be crunchy—I think my made-up word does it the most justice. The specks of vanilla were enough to make Jimmy happy.

Our bill with tax and generous tip came to $66, which I didn’t mind forking over. The menu tends to run on the pricey side, so we normally save Windmills for a special occasion. I suggest going for brunch or lunch, if you don’t mind waiting for a table. The dishes give you more bang for your buck, and the lighting is much better. Being able to see what you’re eating is always a good thing.

Fin.

~ * ~

Windmills Café
184 Princess Street
Kingston, ON
(613) 544-3948

Cold Weather Calls for Comfy Food – January 9, 2009

*Yay, I’m finally in 2009! Methinks procrastinating this long is a bad idea because I’ve forgotten what I put in the shepherd’s pie. Will that stop me from posting a recipe? Of course not!

In the middle of a particularly cold winter storm, I was not looking forward to trekking out for groceries. I don’t live far from a grocery store, but in - 20 degree weather, I’d sooner take a fork to my eye. It’s just too damn cold.

Jimmy was working that night, so I knew he’d want something easy to eat after work. I considered making instant noodles, but dismissed the idea. Instant noodles are a terrible start to the weekend. I needed something I could pull together from what I already had in the kitchen, but wasn’t a horrible dinner. I normally have ground beef in the freezer because I buy the huge club packs when it goes on sale. Divide it into two-cup portions, freeze individually, and you’ve got ground beef for months. I also have quite the selection of frozen vegetables: peas, corn, broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, you name it. The potatoes were leftover from the bag I bought when I made clam chowder. The ingredients lit the way to shepherd’s pie.

I grew up eating shepherd’s pie, and it was easily one of my favourite things to eat in the winter. I think my mum made this often because it’s so easy. Start cooking the meat mixture while you boil water for potatoes and frozen corn. Once the potatoes are done, season and mash. Spoon the meat into loaf pans or larger baking pan. Add a layer of corn, followed by a generous heaping of mashed potatoes. (Here’s the difference between pâté chinois and shepherd’s pie. In shepherd’s pie, the corn is mixed with the meat, but in pâté chinois, the corn is layered. My mum’s shepherd’s pie is actually a pâté chinois, but we always called it shepherd’s pie.) Smooth and sprinkle the top with paprika. Cover with tin foil. Since all of the ingredients are fully cooked, you just need to reheat it in the oven. Remove tin foil for the last 15 minutes to brown the top. Better yet, broil that sucker until the mashed potatoes form a skin. Let cool for at least 10 minutes, cut, and serve with gravy or ketchup.

I don’t know how my mum does it, but hers always tasted the same. I’ve made shepherd’s pie a few times now, and it always turns out differently. The following recipe is a mash-up of what I actually used and what I remember my mum used. Had I posted this sooner, I could have written a more accurate recipe, but then blogging would be too easy, lol.


Meat Mixture:

1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 package lean ground beef (about a pound?)
3 tsp salt
1 tsp ground pepper
2 tsp dried oregano
2 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp ground cumin
½ cup beer or red wine
1 ½ cups stock (chicken, beef, or vegetable are all acceptable)
4 dried bay leaves
1 cup frozen corn
4 slices of bread, diced

1. Heat up a large pot with vegetable oil. When you can feel heat with your hand just above the pot, toss in the onions and the garlic. Turn heat down to medium, and sautée until onions are translucent.
2. Crank heat up back to high and brown the beef in the same pot. Don’t be afraid of the fat that renders from the beef. Pour off some of the fat into a bowl, and set aside.
3. Add herbs, cumin, salt, and pepper. Cook until fragrant. There should be plenty of brown scum accumulating at the bottom of your pot.
4. Stand back and pour the beer (or red wine) into the pot. Stir like you mean it, scraping the bottom of the pot.
5. Once most of the beer (or wine) has evaporated, add the stock, bay leaves, and frozen corn. Bring to a boil, and then turn the heat down to medium-low. Start preparing your potatoes.
6. Reduce the mixture until there is about an inch of liquid left above the meat mixture. Then, and ONLY then, stir in the bread. If you do this step too soon, you’ll end up with grey mush.
7. Check for taste. The meat must be flavourful, or the shepherd’s pie will be blaaaaaaaaand.
8. Turn off the heat, and continue to stir the mixture until all of the liquid has been absorbed.


Potato Mixture:

5 cups potatoes, diced
1 tsp salt
Reserved fat from meat mixture
½ cup milk
Paprika, for sprinkling

1. While the meat is simmering, begin peeling and dicing potatoes
2. Bring a large pot of salted water (about a tablespoon of salt) to boil.
3. Cook the potatoes until fork tender. You can overcook the potatoes, but do NOT undercook them. Your mash will turn out crunchy and unappetizing. Turn off the heat.
4. Drain the potatoes, and return them to the pot.
5. Mash the potatoes with abandon, adding the salt, reserved fat, and milk. The potatoes should be fluffy and creamy at the same time.


Assembly:

1. Spoon the meat into the bottom of two or three loaf pans, or a large rectangular baking pan.
2. Heap on the potatoes, smoothing as you go.
3. Sprinkle the paprika over the potatoes, and cover the pan with tin foil.
4. Put into a 375 degree oven for 20 minutes.
5. Here, you have two options.
a. Remove the foil, and return to the oven for another 10 minutes; or
b. Remove the foil, and broil for 5 minutes.
6. Take it out of the oven and let it sit for at least 10 minutes before cutting.
7. Cut up into squares, scoop into bowls (it’s easier to eat it that way), and serve with ketchup or gravy.

I always preferred my shepherd’s pie with ketchup and not gravy. It was just something we always did when we ate it at home. Admittedly, the first time I ate someone a shepherd's pie not made by my mum was in first-year university. They served it at the caf with a ladleful of gravy, and I was appalled. I asked for a plate without gravy and got my own ketchup.

When I gave Jimmy the option of accompanying sauce, he balked at the mention of ketchup, so I made a simple gravy. Using meat mixture pot (just after spooning it all out), I sautéed half a medium onion (sliced) in a tablespoon of butter. Once the onions got fragrant, I added a tablespoon of flour. I sprinkled some salt and pepper, and poured a little less than a cup stock while whisking as fast as my little arm could whisk. Adjust the seasoning to taste, and add a teaspoon or so of dark soy sauce (for colour). This only took five minutes to bring together, and I think it tastes better than packaged gravy.


The huge pan of shepherd’s pie was far too much for two people to eat late at night, so I put the pan in the fridge. I find it’s one of those dishes that taste better the next day. The potato firms up and the entire thing is easier to cut and scoop out. It tastes great after reheating, too.

I like it for the fact that it’s easy to put together, especially if you’ve made some of the components in advance. Because of the wait times in between reducing the mixture and cooking the potatoes, I’m able to multitask and get some other chores done. I can start a load of laundry before I cook, put it into the dryer just after the potatoes are done, and pick it all up just after I take it out of the oven. In the meantime, I usually do some dishes and clean up the mess I made in the kitchen. Having good food and a clean house on a cold day is so much more comforting than instant noodles.

Fin.

Much Love for Doraemon!

I must admit that I didn't know who or what Doraemon was until I met Jimmy. Apparently, it's the cartoon hero of many Asian childhoods (except for mine).



The last time he went to Taiwan, he brought back three volumes of translated Doraemon manga, so I could appreciate it's awesomeness. Now that he's brought the beloved robot-cat-from-the-future to my attention, I notice Doraemon everywhere!

Anna the Red blogs about making Doraemon onigiri here. Kawaiiiiiiii!!

Dimly-lit Steakhouses + Bad Camera Phone = 1 Photo – December 29, 2008

In December, I got a new phone as an early Christmas present—the Motorola ROKR. I am madly in love with its trendy little functions. Did you know that the phone is essentially a touch phone with buttons that disappear depending on its context? When I play music, all the number buttons disappear and music buttons appear. It’s so gimmicky and trendy that I can’t help but love it.

However, the phone has one major weakness: the camera. All of my pictures taken with the camera have a nasty grainy quality. The pictures have a grey haze that I can’t get rid of.

I came home from work one day, too exhausted to cook. Jimmy and I decided to call up his brother and go to the Keg Steakhouse. We hadn’t been there in almost a year, so we braved the snow and the wind to make the trek. I’m dramatizing a little—it was only ten minutes away. But it felt longer because of the inclement weather.

I really don’t know why steakhouses think that dim lighting makes for a better meat-consuming atmosphere. I prefer being able to see my food when I’m eating. In any case, the dark interior coupled with my crappy camera phone meant that all the pictures I took that night were unsalvageable... except for one.

We started with the escargot stuffed in mushroom caps. I don’t think that it’s the snail meat I love so much as it’s the fact that everything is smothered in butter and cheese. How could you go wrong?

This is a shot of Jimmy’s Caesar salad. He ordered the New York Classic dinner, which came with this salad, vegetables, sautéed mushrooms, and garlic mashed potatoes. He liked all of it, but mentioned that the potatoes weren’t quite garlicky enough.

His brother ordered the Sirloin Classic, with the same sides. He was wary of the size of the steak when it arrived, and declared that he might have to order more food. Of course, he totally underestimated the amount of food on his plate, and almost couldn’t finish his dinner.

I ordered the feature, a rib-eye topped with lobster and shrimp sauce. I didn’t get a salad or vegetables, but I was able to order a twice-baked potato. Yummmmmmmm... it was first baked, had its fluffy innards scooped out and mashed with tasty bits (sour cream, butter, green onions, bacon bits, and cheddar cheese), piped back into its shell, and baked some more. Tangy and cheesy, it was heavenly. The steak was cooked perfectly rare and juicy, just the way I like it. I wasn’t able to finish my steak (shock!). I took the leftovers home and made fajitas the next day.

Let’s see... to drink, the guys ordered pop, and I indulged in my favourite cocktail—the Seabreeze. According to the menu, it contained Polar Ice vodka, cranberry juice, and grapefruit juice. I declined the waitress’ offer to make the drink Keg-sized because I’m a little bit of a lush and the bartenders always mix the drink REALLY strong. Potent potables, indeed. (For those of you who missed the SNL reference, search “SNL Celebrity Jeopardy” in YouTube.)

At $120-ish before tip, the bill was reasonable for an appetizer, three steak dinners, pop, and a cocktail. We don’t go there often (read: we don’t have wads of cash to burn), but it’s a nice break from our usual restaurants.

Now, if only the Keg would start investing in light bulbs and if I could remember to bring my camera, I would be able to pad these posts with more food porn.


Fin.

~ * ~

The Keg Steakhouse
300 King St. E.
Kingston, ON
(613) 549-1333