Product Review: Honibe honey drops

As a run-up to Mmm...Canada, this week's posts will feature Canadian foods and food products. And yes, I will strive to do a post a day. This miniseries will start with a new product developed and produced by one of our Maritime companies.


There's something very soothing about a honeyed tea. Unfortunately, runny honey is a bit sticky--anyone venturing into my kitchen after I've made tea with honey can easily spot the teeny, sticky dribble trail from the honey pot to my mug. It's slightly annoying, but a fact of my tea-making life.

Prince Edward Island's Island Abbey Foods has come up with an alternative to traditional liquid honey, made especially for tea and coffee drinkers: The Honey Drop. Thanks to John, its inventor, I found product samples in my mailbox.

Honey Honey drops are blister packed solid honey losenges. Each drop is equal to about a teaspoon's worth of honey, and dissolves easily into hot liquid, with a bit of stirring.

What's nice about it is that it doesn't have the associated sticky, drippy, dribbly issues that runny honey has. Simple peel open the blister pack and drop it into your drink and stir.

Yes, I know you can get those teeny packs of liquid honey. Apart from the dribbles, they can squoosh if they're in the bottom of your purse, or have something heavy (like a stapler) drop on them...not that I've had that lovely experience...

And very important (to me, at least) is that it's made of pure honey--no additives, no artificial flavours. Honey Drops comes in two versions -- regular honey and honey and lemon--and yes, the lemon is pure lemon and not syntethic.

I'm going to classifiy it as a traveller's nice to have sort of thing. I'll still keep my honey jar for baking and buttery toasts, but these losenges are good to keep in your desk drawer for your 2 o'clock cuppa or if you're the type to doctor your own take-away beverages.

As an aside...
When I was exploring their website, I found that you can order not only the Honey Drops, but also various varietals of creamed and runny honey...something to look into if you want more than the standard offerings from your own bigscarymegamart.

cheers!
jasmine

Savour the season: Asparagus

Back in February 2007 I began what I had hoped to be an ongoing series entitled "Savour the Season." Basically, what I wanted to do was focus on seasonal eating in Ontario. I planned to research that month's ingredient--a bit of botany, a bit of history, a bit of mythology--then share what I learned. I got two posts in (one about globe onions and one about parsnips) and began researching a third, but my studies over took me and then I needed to take my break.

Now that I'm back, and happily studies-free, I'm bringing back Savour the Season...just a little differently than first intended.

Even though research is one of my favourite parts about writing about food (there's just something about reading about food migration and how home cooks have changed how they prepare an ingredient that appeals to my geeky side), sometimes I just don't have the time to pore over books and sift through (and evaluate) web pages. So, rather than give up on the entire series, I'll start identifying seasonal ingredients as such and post the "bookish bits" as and when they happen.

Gosh, that was a long-winded introduction...

When I was younger I really didn't like asparagus. The only times I remember having it was when I'd attend swanky-ish dinners, and the chef would boil the living daylights out of them. On my plate would lie flaccid, waterlogged spears. I'd cut a bit off eat it and then, pretend they didn't exist while my attention turned to its platemates.

Since then, I've developed two theories about food:

1. If you don't like an ingredient, try it in a different way (don't like it boiled? Try it roasted or baked in a tomato sauce or steamed or...)
2. Pretty much everything is improved with bacon.

When it comes to asparagus, I've learned that I prefer spindly spears to those that rival my vacuum's pipe. I also have learned that the only way I really, really like them is roasted. I've tried them boiled, steamed, in soups and in risotto. Roasting wins hands down.

I can't remember when I first tried roasted asparagus spears. They were prepared really simply: tossed in a bit of olive oil and then liberally seasoned with salt and pepper. Wow. They were good. Asparagus went off the "politely nibbled on" list to being the recipient of my Ms Pacman impression.

Add this revelation to trying them roasted and wrapped in pancetta...and I was in springtime bliss. So when this year's asparagus crop started appearing at the bigscarymegamart, I knew what I'd be doing...

Out came the rashers of streaky bacon from the freezer, to bundle up four or so spears, depending upon their thicknesses. I drizzled them with olive oil and sprinkled them liberally with salt and pepper before popping them into a 180C/350F oven, until done.

Yummy yummy yummy.

I took some into work for lunch the next day and some of my workmates wondered which cafeteria station served them up...I suppose I should stop teasing them in that way...especially when I reheat them on the stoneware dinner plates...

cheers!
jasmine

Milk Calendar Mondays: Super-Fast Chicken and Vegetable Curry

Okay...so I'm a little early with this month's Milk Calendar Monday adventure. I suppose I could have waited until next week, or the week after. But while sometimes these recipes are the gustatory equivalent of forcing yourself to clean out a meat-filled freezer that's been accidentally unplugged during the hottest weekend of the year, the subsequent post can be like cup of sweet, steaming hot mint tea that not only masks the taste of the sorry excuse for "adventurous" but it makes your tummy feel good.

And this blog is pretty much about feel-good tummies.

As Elizabeth noted during May's post, June's offering is the Super-fast chicken and vegetable curry. She wasn't the only one afraid to look at the recipe.

I really tried to go into this month's recipe with an open mind and receptive tastebuds. But the truth is My Dear Little Mummy is the best-ever South Indian cook. Period. She makes the very yummiest curries--hot, mild, swathed in gravy, thickened juiced clinging to each and every piece of meat--she has never, ever, ever made a bad curry (spaghetti, muffins, and the occasional soup can be different stories). Yes, I do make my own curries--while not quite as good a Mummy's, my offerings do have their fans.

As expected, the dairy people provided a very, very, simple "curry." You aren't making your own masala, nor are you really layering any flavours. Such exercises take time, and I suppose if one of your objectives is to quickly pull together a meal (and when I say quickly, I do mean a combined prep and cooking time of less than 30 minutes), such tasty things are sacrificed. Also, Indian food carries the unfortunate stigma of being complicated with long ingredients lists. For the novice, uncertain, or lazy amongst us, spying half a dozen spices could be off-putting.

For me, the off-putting parts were *surprise* the half-litre of milk and the cornstarch. I know why the milk is there (the half-cup of yoghurt probably wouldn't be enough to warrant its calendar placement), but, again, I think it's a waste of good milk. I know the cornstarch is there to mimic the effects of long-cooking--to produce a clingy gravy--but the starch combined with the milk made is seem rather nursery-food like to me.

And yes, I went the "adventurous" route (sans coriander leaf--totally forgot to pick some up, and as it wasn't in the main recipe, I didn't feel like nipping out to the shop) and used fresh ginger and chillies. The other changes I made were using hot curry powder, instead of mild (I don't have any mild right now and didn't feel like making some) and toasted almonds instead of peanuts..and I used more nuts than called for.
I served it to a friend (one who is not Indian). He thought it acceptable in a non-curry-like way. To him it was perhaps a soup; it could be a stew. He admitted that if he went to a restaurant and ordered a curry and received what this recipe produced, he'd probably feel misled.

Me...I thought it had as much bearing to curry as Chef Alphadoodlio's canned kiddie-friendly pasgetti does to anything Mama Cream Puff makes for our favourite Cream Puff.

And again, I have no idea what I did wrong, but this recipe made so much I could have easily filled my sink basin with the "curry." In fact, I swear it kept reproducing in my wok...regardless of how much of the stuff I dished out, the quantity never seemed to change. I even checked underneath the wok to see if there was some sort of tube system hooked up to it to automatically refill my vessel with the stuff. Nope...no tube system...just a lot of "curry."

We both agreed that something was missing--it was definitely lacking in something. I began listing the ways I would fix this recipe, and try and keep it within the easy, commonly pantrifed and thoroughly dairied mandate the recipes seem to follow. Get rid of the half-litre of milk and the corn starch (but keep the yoghurt). Tweak the spicing with some black mustard and fenugreek...maybe some others. Add fried onions along with an acid--lemon or lime juice.

But then I realised my version might actually take some effort...which would make it palatable...and perhaps people would like it...which doesn't seem in keeping with several of the recipes I've tried thus far...

Meh.

cheers!
jasmine