Thursday's Child: Bosphorus Bridge, Turkey

Ortakoy Mosque and the Bosphorus Bridge

Having the chance to visit more than one continent has been pretty great.  But having the chance to visit more than one continent in one morning was one of the coolest travel experiences we've had. With Istanbul being part of both Europe and Asia, we were able to do just that simply by driving across a bridge.

The Bosphorus Bridge

On our final day in Istanbul, we had a guide and driver so we could see the outskirts of the city.  After visiting the stunning Chora Museum, we went for a drive along the Bosphorus Strait and Sea of Marmara, both of which are part of the route that connects the Mediterranean and Black Seas. 

Fishing boats by the Bosphorus

We started in European Ortakoy, home of the stunning Ortakoy Mosque.  As we crossed the Bosphorus Bridge over the strait, we arrived in the Asian district of Beylerbeyi and enjoyed a beautiful view back across to Europe. 

According to Greek legend, when Jason was searching for the Golden Fleece, he was nearly killed by the mythical Clapping Rocks that guarded the Bosphorus and prevented sailors from making their way through the straits.  On the advice of a prophet, he made it through safely and thus was able to retrieve the fleece and bring it home.  I'm pleased to say that in the twenty-first century, it's much safer travelling those waters.

A view of Europe, from Asia

The great Turkish writer, Orhan Pamuk, has written about the national emotion of huzun and describes it as being a kind of collective melancholy that is almost spiritual in nature.  He speaks "of the old Bosphorus ferries moored to deserted stations in the middle of winter, ... of the children who play ball between the cars on cobblestoned streets; of the covered women who stand at remote bus stops clutching plastic shopping bags and speak to no one as they wait for the bus that never arrives".

- from Istanbul: Memories and a City, Orhan Pamuk

Father's Day

"To pull the metal splinter from my palm
my father recited a story in a low voice.
I watched his lovely face and not the blade.
Before the story ended, he'd removed
the iron sliver I thought I'd die from.

I can't remember the tale,
but hear his voice still, a well
of dark water, a prayer.
And I recall his hands,
two measures of tenderness
he laid against my face."

- from "The Gift" by Li-Young Lee

On Father's Day, here are some of the things I learned from my dad, Paul Baker:

- Loyalty is important - to your family, your friends, and your sports teams.  My dad grew up cheering for the Cleveland Indians and Browns, so his loyalty was tested for many years, but he never stopped rooting for them.  One of the best things my dad and I did was to travel to Detroit to see the Indians play the Tigers.  It was the first (and only) time in his life he saw the Indians play in person.  We went in the summer of 1984, when the Tigers won just about every game they played, but the Indians won that game.
- On a related note, he taught me about the pervasiveness of a sports curse.  I clearly remember him assigning me to watch the end of one Browns' game.  He left the room because he was clearly bringing them bad luck simply by watching the game.  The minute he left the room, they took the lead and never gave it up.  I'm sorry to say this same curse came to rest on me after he died.  I watched the first half of the January 1988 AFC Championship game against the Denver Broncos, then went for a long walk during the second half to give the Browns a chance.  I got back just in time to watch the last five minutes.  Anyone who follows football will realize it was actually me who lost the game for the Browns, not Earnest Byner.  Sorry about that.
- Hard work is a part of life.  My dad worked long hours as a farmer, and took two other jobs to help make ends meet.  That was a powerful lesson about putting your nose to the grindstone and getting the job done.
- The examples you set for your kids are more powerful than the words you say.  When I was 13, my dad gave up his lifelong smoking habit because he didn't want to be a bad influence on me as a teenager.  He never complained about it or talked about how difficult it was for him.  I have never forgotten that.
- The person you are isn't dictated by the car you drive, the house you live in, or even the things you say.  It's the way you treat people, not just in public, but when no one else is around.  It's about being kind to everyone, regardless of whether they're powerful or powerless.  It's about treating all people as if they really matter - because, of course, they do.

Serve these frittata bites to your father, or anyone you love.  Happy Father's Day to my dad, my husband, and every other man who loves his kids.

Spinach, Sundried Tomato and Feta Frittata Bites

(adapted from The Healthy Foodie) 

Makes 6 large frittata bites

Ingredients

1/2 Tbsp olive oil

1/2 onion, finely chopped

pinch salt

pinch pepper

1 small garlic clove, minced

1/3 cup bell pepper, finely diced

2 cups baby spinach leaves, chopped and lightly packed

4 whole eggs

2 egg whites

1/2 tsp fresh thyme

2 Tbsp sundried tomatoes, finely chopped

1/2 cup feta cheese, crumbed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and lightly brush a 6-cup muffin pan with olive oil.

Drizzle large skillet with olive oil and heat over medium heat.  Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent and tender, about 4 – 5 minutes.  Add salt, pepper, garlic and bell pepper, and continue cooking for about a minute, until fragrant. 

Throw in spinach leaves and toss gently until completely wilted, about one minute.  Remove from heat and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, add whole eggs, egg whites and fresh thyme.  Beat the eggs until fully incorporated and slightly frothy.  Add spinach mixture, sun-dried tomatoes and feta cheese.

Spoon into prepared muffin tin.  Do not fill the cups more than 3/4 of the way to avoid spillage.  Cook for 22 – 25 minutes, until eggs are set and top starts to colour.

Let cool on a cooling rack for at least 10 minutes before removing frittata from muffin tins.

Can be served immediately, or eaten at room temperature, with a green salad.

Thursday's Child: Istanbul, Turkey

This month, I'm sharing some of my memories of Turkey, a beautiful country that's been in the headlines this month for the protests in Taksim Square, and the government's response to them.

One of my most vivid recollections of Istanbul was how the city engaged our senses.  The morning we visited the Blue Mosque, we exited the building to see a parade in the adjacent Sultan Ahmet Square. Although we didn't know what it was commemorating, the stirring music and gorgeous uniforms held us spellbound. And the five daily calls to prayer that issued from the mosques were captivating.

The beautiful Rustem Pasha Mosque is one of the best-hidden sites in Istanbul, but well worth the effort to find.  Built in the 1560s, it was named for the Grand Vizier who had recently died. It's located in a very busy section of the old town, literally on top of some of the stores in the market so their revenues could help run the mosque.  It's hidden down a tiny alley in the noisy commercial section, but once we entered it was a haven of artistry and serenity. The interior walls are covered in some of the most glorious collections of tile produced in the Ottoman era, including the rich red hues that were so difficult to manufacture.  The mosque is tiny and difficult to find - and we were thrilled to have visited.

When we left Rustem Pasha, we walked to the nearby Spice Bazaar, also known as the Egyptian Bazaar because it was originally built to sell goods brought back from traders who travelled to Egypt.  Like the mosque, it dates to the 1560s, and probably seemed as exotic to those sixteenth century city residents as it does to twenty-first century tourists.  In addition to spices, merchants sell rose blossoms, honeycomb, dried fruit and, of course, Turkish Delight. The fragrances were bewitching!

Thinking of Istanbul with great fondness.

Cooking from the cupboards

Some days I know in advance what I'm planning to serve for dinner, and I make sure I've got everything I need from the grocery store.  But not every day works out like that, and I have to rely on the ingredients I have on hand to make something that's fast, healthy and delicious.

It would be hard to beat this recipe on all counts.  It takes no time to prepare, is full of healthy ingredients, and tastes wonderful.  And as a bonus, it uses ingredients that I usually have in my fridge and cupboards.  I made it last week for the first time, and you can be sure there will be many more times for this amazing recipe!

Spicy Carrot and Chickpea Pita Pocket

(adapted from River Cottage Veg)

1 Tbsp unsalted butter

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 rounded tsp cumin seeds

4 carrots, peeled and sliced thin

1 large clove of garlic, minced

Finely grated zest of 1 orange, plus a good squeeze of juice

1 tsp smoked paprika

14 ounce tin of chickpeas, drained and rinsed

pita bread or fresh, soft flatbread

4 heaping Tbsp sour cream or plain yogurt

Heat the butter and oil in a frying pan over medium heat.  Add the cumin seeds and let them fry for a minute or two.  Add the carrots and fry for 8 – 10 minutes, stirring often, until tender and starting to brown, but still with some bite.

Add the garlic, orange zest, smoked paprika and chickpeas and cook until the chickpeas are hot.  Remove from the heat and add a good squeeze of orange juice.  Taste and add more orange juice if needed.

Spoon some of the chickpea mixture into the pocket of a warmed pita, top with sour cream or yogurt, and serve.

Thursday's Child: Taksim Square, Istanbul

As I wrote last week, travelling makes the world seem smaller, and sometimes helps me understand what’s happening internationally.  The downside is that sometimes it means my heart is breaking as I read the news.

This week, Istanbul's Taksim Square has been in the headlines.  What began as a protest against the removal of trees from a city park has turned into a widespread protest against the government, and a subsequent crackdown on the demonstrators.  And what might be just another international story becomes personal as I remember our family stopping in Taksim Square on an ordinary day to feed the pigeons.  From there, we walked down the beautiful Istiklal Caddesi, a shopping street open only to pedestrians.  It was a Sunday afternoon, and as tourists we were in the minority; it was very much an area where the locals came to shop.  Lined with bookstores, boutiques and restaurants, it was lovely yet familiar.  We could have eaten at McDonald’s if we wanted (we didn’t).  A tram ran up the middle of the street for anyone who chose not to walk.  

Istanbul is a city with glorious antiquity.  We'll never forget visiting Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, and many other wonderful reminders of the past.  But we were delighted to spend a few hours in the modern section, rubbing shoulders with the people who actually live and work in the city.

A city that is now holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next.

Strawberries

"Oh lush
summer,
ripe
apple
cart,
verdant
strawberry
mouth,
lips of wild plum,
roads
of tender
dust on dust,
midday
coppery red
drum."
- from "Ode to Summer" by Pablo Neruda

Nothing says the beginning of summer like strawberries.  I grew up in southwestern Ontario, and the strawberry crop always came just in time for my sister's mid-June birthday.  It was the first of the summer fruit - raspberries, blueberries, peaches - and we couldn't get enough of them.  We'd run out to the garden in our bare feet and come in with a bowlful of berries for dinner.  One or two of them might have been eaten along the way.

One of the great surprises of my adulthood was developing an intolerance to strawberries.  I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the huge quantity I ate as a child. So now fresh strawberries are off-limits.  But for some reason, I can eat them in any other format - if they've been frozen, made into jam or, like in these bars, cooked.

That's what makes this a perfect beginning-of-summer recipe for me. It's the best way I've found to take me back to the days when I was a child, and ate strawberries with joy.

"In the afternoon,
fire
rests,
air
makes clover
dance; it enters
the deserted factory:
a fresh star
rises
in
the cloudy
sky.
A summer night
sizzles
without
burning."
- from "Ode to Summer" by Pablo Neruda

Brown Butter Strawberry Streusel Bars

(from Une Gamine Dans La Cuisine)

For the crust and crumb topping

1 cup plus 5 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into chunks

3/4 cup sugar (first amount)

1/4 cup sugar (second amount)

pinch salt

2 egg yolks, slightly beaten

1/2 tsp almond extract

3 cups plus 3 Tbsp all-purpose flour

For the Strawberry filling

3 heaping cups of fresh strawberries, hulled and cut into chunks

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup freshly-squeezed lemon juice

1 Tbsp corn starch

2 Tbsp red wine (you can replace with water, if you like)

Line a 9” x 13” pan with parchment paper.

To prepare the crust:

Brown the butter (see here for directions on browning butter).  Let cool to room temperature. 

In a large bowl, combine the cooled brown butter, 3/4 cup sugar and salt.  Stir until well-blended.  Add yolks and almond extract and whisk until smooth.  Stir in the flour until you have a stiff dough.

Transfer about 2 1/2 cups of the dough to the pan and press it evenly on the bottom.  Refrigerate the pan for about 40 minutes.

To prepare the topping:

Add the 1/4 cup of sugar to the remaining dough and, using your fingertips, work the sugar into the dough until it is crumbly and sandy.  Cover and set aside.

To prepare the filling:

In a large saucepan, combine the chunks of berries, sugar, lemon juice, corn starch and wine.  Stir to combine.  Bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat.  Once it starts to boil, reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid turns into a thick syrup (about 8 – 10 minutes).  Remove the pan from the heat and let the mixture cool to room temperature.  (Note: it will continue to thicken as it cools.)  I allowed about 40 minutes for this.

To make the bars:

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Remove the pan from the refrigerator and prick the crust several times with a fork.  (Note: Chilling and pricking the dough will keep it from puffing up too much in the oven.)

Bake the crust for about 15 minutes. 

Remove from oven and set aside.  Increase oven temperature to 350 degrees.  Spread the berry mixture over the partially-baked crust.  Sprinkle the remaining dough mixture over the berries and pat into place.

Bake 25 – 30 minutes, or until the crumb topping is light golden.  Cool for at least 3 hours before removing from pan.