The “No Expectation Let Yourself Love and Be Loved Cake”

Valentine’s eh? A holiday filled with expectation and commercial horror. Or so seems to be the opinion of my ever-liberated generation. I have celebrated Valentine’s with few of my boyfriends, but only because there haven’t been many to celebrate with. I was either so engrossed in my studies I didn’t look around the room twice to see if someone might be interested, or I had just started dating someone, and it was much too early to make a big deal about it.

Valentine’s is unfortunately associated with this need to buy all sorts of presents to prove how much you love someone. This seems to be the root of the problem for many people. Shouldn’t we be able to express this every day? Of course! Good grief. I’ve always celebrated Valentine’s whether I was with a boyfriend or not. It’s a delightful excuse to eat delicious things with some favourite people and celebrate one of the most important things in this world: love.

Growing up, we always had a Valentine’s day breakfast. My mom would set the table in red and white; there would be flowers in vases, chocolates and cookies beside our place mats, and sometimes little “ I love you cards”. No matter what we had planned for that morning, we always ate together. Scones, coffee cake, cinnamon buns, or anything else delicious would be served with scrambled eggs and strong black tea. Someone would turn on Chicago’s "Make Me Smile" and we’d all sit ourselves down. Being the joyful little unit that we are, we’d all say “Happy Valentine’s!” Wave our forks and napkins around in the air and dig in.

My first boyfriend only wore shorts. Even in winter. This didn’t bother me – I found his long skinny legs charming. He swam, skateboarded, played the bass and ran track. We were sixteen and knew nothing about relationships. As we stumbled through, stealing kisses after track practice and clambering back into our clothes when we heard our parents coming home, we learned a lot about each other and about loving. I remember a rather juvenile conversation we had about what clothes we would look best in. I admitted he would look great in a red t-shirt and black pants. He grimaced of course at the mention of pants and I laughed saying it really didn’t matter, I’d love him anyways, but it would look good…. Valentine’s rolled around that year and we’d been dating for maybe four months. I don’t remember planning anything special, but we both cooked up something on our own accord. I made him a huge heart-shaped “red cake” (a family favourite) complete with cinnamon heart decorations and “I love you Eric” written in the middle. He showed up at my locker wearing a red t-shirt and black pants, carrying a Styrofoam carton with a cinnamon bun in it from my favourite bakery. Huge points.

A couple years later – a far cry from being innocently sweet and sixteen – I celebrated another Valentine’s with a Montreal, tree-planting boyfriend. Looking back, I can’t help but smile. Things weren’t going so well, to say the least, and I used Valentine’s to try and prove how perfect we were for each other. If I could make the perfect dinner, he would know how much I loved him. In the week prior, I scoured the city for ingredients. I bought little cards for our two other roommates and left them little candies at breakfast. On Valentine’s I cooked all day, making yet another heart-shaped red cake complete with cinnamon heart decorations. For dinner, I made a moose tajine (yes, a tajine with moose meat instead of the traditional lamb or chicken – it didn’t pair so well with the spices, I must add). I dressed up, lit candles and waited for him to come home from school. When he walked in the door, he was surprised, but underneath seemed uncomfortable. Why had I gone to so much trouble? Dinner was good, but we said little and ate too much – our full bellies trying to fill our empty hearts. The evening was filled with unsatisfied expectation. It was Valentine's after all! We should be so in love! But I knew it wasn't working and I had no idea how to get out. After dinner we went and played hockey with friends. Skating around the rink, I remember wanting to keep skating as fast as possible, forever, until I couldn’t see anyone anymore but myself. But I kept going in circles.

I made another cake this year. Molly’s Winning Heart’s and Minds Cake. Except I’m calling it the “No Expectation Let Yourself Love and Be Loved Cake”. You can visit her website and read all about it here.


Happy loving folks.

Salmon with Strawberry Balsamic Reduction Sauce

A dear friend by the name of Ali came for dinner the other night. I rarely get to see her because she now lives in Victoria on the west coast and it was with great pleasure that I prepared a rather special meal for her. I have to give my dad credit for the idea, as I certainly didn't think it up myself, and it is also because of him that I have the basic knowledge necessary to realize this easy and delicious little recipe.

I can't think of any other way I want to spend my time these days besides cooking for other people. Eating what I cook is fun, and when people ask me what kinds of things I like to cook I reply by saying, well, it's whatever I feel like eating. So as a result I am often trying new things and furiously reading various recipes to find the best way to make something. But I get the most pleasure out of sharing what I cook with other people. (Bonus for future or unborn family members!) The only catch to the following recipe is incorporating the butter, but it's not as tricky as it is delicious!


Strawberry Balsamic Reduction Butter Sauce

This makes about 1 C of sauce.

I cooked a 450 g fillet of King salmon at 400 degrees until it was just that bright translucent pink at the thickest part, about 15 minutes. This cooking time will vary depending on the temperature of the fish. I took mine directly out of the fridge so it was cold and therefore took longer. It also depends on the thickness of your fillet. So make sure you check after the first 10 minutes, then the next five and then the next 1 or 2. Don't forget that your fish will continue to cook once you take it out of the oven, so take it out just before it's done. (This takes a bit of practice.)

This is essentially what they call a Beurre Blanc because the butter is incorporated slowly with a reduction of wine or vinegar and acts primarily as an emulsifier. The amount of butter or other ingredients depends largely on personal preference.

1 Large shallot chopped
1 TBS Balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 TBS Lime juice
3/4 C Chopped strawberries
3 TBS Butter

1 - Cut butter into small 1/4 inch pieces and put on a plate in the freezer.

2 - Chop up fine and fry the shallot.

3 - Add vinegar, lime juice and strawberries. Cook this until it becomes thick and bubbles. When you streak the spoon through the sauce the streaks should stay. This is the only tricky part: you want to reduce it just enough, but not so much that too much water evaporates and the sauce is bitter, or not enough and the sauce is too watery.

4 - Add the frozen butter, stirring vigorously until the butter is half melted. Transfer the sauce into a bowl or an insulated mug and continue stirring until the butter is completely incorporated into the sauce. The butter must be frozen so that the water molecules already present in the sauce can slowly surround the fat molecules in the butter. If this happens too fast, or the sauce heats up too much, the sauce will separate as the fat droplets break apart from the water molecules. This is also why the sauce is transferred into a bowl or mug before the butter finishes melting.

Then serve with some summer vegetables such as yellow squash and kale sauteed with a little olive oil, and salt and pepper. And rice is always nice!




Oh yeah, and this chocolate cake, if it moves you.



- murph