Top Secret Chocolate Mousse

I seem to be stuck in the 1980's lately. Last month, I made Nanaimo Bars inspired by new wave (Modern English's I Melt with You), chocolate, and movies (Valley Girl). Today, it's Top Secret! and chocolate mousse. Just in time for Valentine's Day.

I flip through a few recipes for little chocolate desserts like pots de creme, chocolate custard, chocolate tartlets, chocolate tortes, and chocolate mousse. Somehow it's chocolate mousse that I cannot stop thinking about, which puzzles me. It's not something I've ordered for a decade or two and until today, I've never made it from scratch.

There was a period of my youth when dining out meant ordering a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, shrimp cocktail, vegetable tempura, or a plate of brie and fruit as a starter, followed by a salad with hunks of bacon, chopped boiled eggs, strands of yellow cheese, and matchbook size croutons for dinner along with dinner rolls, and finally at the very end, a small teacup of chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream.

A quintessential 1984 spread also brings to mind the movie Top Secret!, an over the top comedy about Nick Rivers, a 1950's rock 'n roll star (think Buddy Holly or Elvis Presley) who goes on a music tour in Germany, falls in love with the heroine Hillary Flammond at a performance in East Germany, and then signs up with the French Resistance and joins the fight against world-wide Nazi domination.

In this hilarious scene Nick meets Resistance member Chocolate Mousse:

[Introducing his men]
Du Quois: This is Chevalier, Montage, Detente, Avant Garde, and Deja Vu.
Deja Vu: Haven't we met before?
Nick Rivers: I don't think so.
Du Quois: Over there, Croissant, Souffle, Escargot, and Chocolate Mousse.

To celebrate this Valentine's Day, I'm combining zany excess with rich chocolate mousse served with brandy black currant whipped cream. It's a bit boozy and naughty so I recommend skipping dinner and going straight to dessert.

What's your favorite movie inspired dessert recipe?

Top Secret Chocolate Mousse with Spiked Chantilly Cream

adapted from Chez Panisse Desserts by Lindsey Remolif Shere

Yield 3 cups

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate

2 tablespoons brandy

2 tablespoons water

4 eggs

1/2 cup unsalted butter (at room temperature)

Chop the bittersweet chocolate into small pieces. Melt the chocolate, brandy, and water in a double broiler (I use a medium size metal mixing bowl over a small heavy saucepan filled with hot water and set over medium heat), stirring constantly, until smooth and glossy. Remove from heat. Separate the eggs, put the egg whites in a medium size heat proof bowl and the yolks in any small bowl.

Whisk the egg yolks one by one into the chocolate mixture until well mixed. Cut the butter in pieces and whisk until smooth. Set the chocolate over hot water, if necessary, to help the butter melt. Warm the egg whites slightly over the hot water and beat them until they hold soft peaks. Fold them quickly into the slightly warm chocolate mixture. Pour into serving bowls or glasses and chill. Serve with a few dollops of Spiked Chantilly Cream.

Spiked Chantilly Cream

adapted from Chez Panisse Desserts by Lindsey Remolif Shere

Yield about 2 cups

1 cups of whipping cream

1 tablespoon brandy

1/2 tablespoon sweetened black currant juice

1 tablespoons sugar

1/4 teaspoon vanilla

In a large bowl with a whisk, whip the cream into soft mounds until the volume doubles in size and the cream barely holds its shape. Stir in the brandy, black currant juice, sugar, and vanilla. Serve on top of the Top Secret Chocolate Mousse or chill until ready to use.

Serving Up Platefulls of Art, an interview with Megan Fizell

Photographer Megan Fizell cooks up bite-sized art history lessons and recipes for her blog Feasting on Art. She serves up an irresistible blend of classic art, food, and photographs each week. One look at Cezanne's Cherry and Nectarine Clafoutis inspired by Paul Cezanne's Still Life with Plate of Cherries and you'll be hooked.

A&L: Hi Megan. Your blog Feasting On Art combines art, food, and photography. Can you tell us how you started this blog and how it has grown over time?

MF: I conceptualised Feasting on Art while living in London. I assumed there was already a cookbook that detailed recipes inspired by art and I was shocked when I couldn't find one. Connecting food and art seemed so natural and I decided to test the response to my idea through a blog once I fully relocated to Sydney. Via the collaborative element introduced in October, I hope to turn the blog into a space that fosters dialogue about both food and art. I am currently working on a few proposals so hopefully Feasting on Art will be in a few new places in the future.

A&L: Do you remember when you first started to pay attention to art and photography?

MF: I had a wonderful French teacher at school that used to incorporate art into our language lessons. Due to this exposure I began to study fine art during my final year which prompted me to enroll in an Art History course during my first semester of university. From that point on I never looked back and devoted all of my studies towards all forms of art.

My father studied photography at school and growing up I used to spend time with him in his darkroom and was completely mesmorised by the images appearing as if by magic. From these early experiences I have always had an interest in the medium.


A&L: Why are still-life paintings so important?

MF: I love still life paintings because they are so much more than a simple picture of a couple of apples. Often they are saturated with iconographic meaning and in the past were used to depict nationalistic pride. With food and cultural identity so closely intertwined the appearance of food throughout visual history is not surprising.


A&L: How would you describe your photographic style?

MF: Focus on light, clean lines, and symmetry. I work with a small depth of field setting to place the focus on the most important part of the composition.

A&L: Who are your favorite photographers and artists?

Images provided by Megan Fizell.

MF: My favorite photographers are Aya Brackett, Marian Drew, Martin Parr, and André Kertész. Artists would have to be Edouard Manet, Frida Kahlo, and the paper cutting art of Peter Callesen.

A&L: Name three things that are always in your refrigerator.

MF: Seeded mustard, Byron Bay Green Jalapeno Chilli Sauce with Coriander, and dill pickles.

A&L: Tell us about when you lived in London and grew interested in food and cooking.

London Market, Megan Fizell, photos displayed with artist's permission.

MF: My love of food is thanks to my wonderful roommate Cassie. She was always experimenting in the kitchen and I found myself wanting to learn. It helped that London has amazing restaurants and markets - I was a regular on Brick Lane haggling prices and negotiating free bottles of wine. I would give anything for a really delicious pot of clotted cream, the dairy here in Australia doesn't compare.

A&L: What is your favorite music to listen to while cooking?

MF: I listen to a lot of jazz - Nina Simone, Sarah Vaughan, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald during meals but while cooking I usually have an episode of the Splendid Table on in the background.


A&L: You work part-time as a gallery associate in Sydney, run your own freelance photography business, Tres Jolie Studios, and publish a blog. Was it hard to learn the rules of business, while working, and blogging at the same time?

MF: I find that I struggle with balancing my time the most. More often than not, I spend more of my day than I would like in front of a computer, especially since I recently increased my hours at the gallery. I have to make a point to not blog or spend the evening focusing on my business and instead enjoy the beautiful Sydney summer.


A&L: Can you describe your typical day?

MF: I walk to work and spend the majority of my day working at the gallery hanging art, working on the website, and photographing new paintings. Depending on the weather I will either make a quick dinner and work on my own projects, researching and writing for Feasting on Art or processing images for Tres Jolie Studios, or head out for dinner with my partner and a quick walk down by the beach. At this point in my life I find that I never have enough hours in my day!


A&L: What is your favorite Feasting On Art recipe and why?



Enchiladas, Megan Fizell, photos displayed with artist's permission.

MF: I had a hard time deciding my favorite recipe from Feasting on Art. It was between the coconut milk ice cream (inspired by my favourite Frida Kahlo painting) and chipotle chicken enchiladas. I finally decided on the enchiladas simply because it is the only recipe I have made more than once - it is my favorite winter dish and although I tend to add a bit too much chili, it is always disappears very quickly when I make it for friends.

{Chipotle Chicken Enchiladas}
serves 4-5 people

3TB vegetable oil
1/2 rotisserie chicken, shredded
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp Mexican chili spice
1 red onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic
1 c frozen corn
5 jalapeno chilies (pickled)
4 chipotle chilies
1 can diced tomatoes
1/2 tsp flour
10 flour tortillas
1 1/2 c enchilada sauce (recipe below)
1 c shredded cheddar cheese
coriander/lime/sour cream to serve

Set oven to 350F. Saute onion and garlic in a large pan. Once soft, add corn and chilies. Stir well and add the canned tomatoes and spices. Shred the rotisserie chicken and add to the saute pan. Dust with flour to help thicken and set.

Coat the bottom of the baking pan with 1/5 of the enchilada sauce. Pour 1/2 of the remaining sauce onto a large plate and dip each tortilla in the sauce coating both sides. Fill each tortilla with the chicken and vegetables from the saute pan. Roll the tortilla around the filling and place in the baking pan seam side down. Repeat with the remaining 9 tortillas until the baking pan is full.

Pour the reserved enchilada sauce as well as the remaining sauce from the plate over the rolled tortillas. Top with the shredded cheese and bake for 15-20 minutes until the entire dish is heated through and the cheese is toasted.

Serve with coriander, a squeeze of fresh lime juice and sour cream.

{Enchilada Sauce}

3 TB hot chili powder (use only 2 if you are sensitive to very spicy food)
3 TB flour
1 tsp cocoa powder
1/2 tsp garlic salt
1 tsp oregano
3 c water
1 can crushed tomatoes

Add all of the ingredients to a large sauce pan. Whisk to remove any lumps and cook until it has reduced by 1/3. This is a very spicy sauce, substitute with mild chili powder to reduce the heat while maintaining the flavour.

A&L: How do you come up with new content for each blog post?

MF: Each post is slightly different. Sometimes I find a painting that I really love and want to learn more about or I will find a really interesting ingredient at the market and then look for a painting to research. Each post has a slightly different beginning but I have begun to focus on intertwining ideas of sweet and savory - peppercorn ice cream, strawberry BBQ sauce, and Parmesan shortbread.


A&L: What book is on your bedside table right now?



34-365, Megan Fizell, photos displayed with artist's permission.

MF: ‘The Art of Eating’ by MFK Fisher and the cookbook ‘Flavouring with Mustard.’


A&L: Tell us about your greatest adventure.

Mexico City, Megan Fizell, photos displayed with artist's permission.

MF: In 2006 I travelled to Mexico City to study art during winter break at university. We criss-crossed the city visiting Rivera's murals and Kahlo's home and studio. Between climbing the ancient pyramids at Teotihuacan and walking down the Calle de los Muertos (Street of the Dead) I had my very first taste of mole poblano and countless tacos out of the street-side shopping carts.

You can see more of Megan's work at Feasting on Art and Tres Jolie Studios.

chocolate, love, and superpowers

A dark square of chocolate makes me weak, drop to the floor weak. Melt a square on your tongue, and well, you know what I'm talking about.

As the chocolate dissolves, the world ceases to exist, it's locked in some kind of chocolate freeze frame, maybe even a chocolate nirvana. Time becomes irrelevant, thoughts float away, and you are left with nothing but pure sweet cocoa, it's a bit like having a temporary superpower, only better, because you don't have to fight any supervillains in order to enjoy said powers.

Then again, chocolate is layered in complexity, it's also like the 80's new wave song by Modern English, I Melt With You. Yeah, it melts on the surface but underneath that first layer, chocolate is love and rebellion, like the song. It's the love that stills time and shouts it's us-against-you, world and we gonna fight to stay on top.

Chocolate also means movies and impossible crushes, like going to the movies with your best friend to watch Valley Girl for who knows how many times and you both swoon over Randy (Nicolas Cage) with a bucket of popcorn, a bag of sugar coated chocolates, and two cokes between you and you are convinced this is what love is about.

Lucky for us, our choices in love, chocolate, and superpowers do improve with time.

Which brings me to this month's chocolaty Daring Bakers' challenge, nanaimo bars, named after the Canadian city. Nanaimo bars require no superpower abilities, however they do call for two layers of melted chocolate and one layer of vanilla custard. Super indeed.

I made a lighter version of the original recipe which calls for granulated sugar, butter, cream, and milk by and used maple syrup, coconut oil, and coconut milk. Sweet, but not tooth-achingly sweet. This recipe for homemade gluten-free graham crackers is one for the archives, especially when paired with chocolate.

The January 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Lauren of Celiac Teen. Lauren chose Gluten-Free Graham Wafers and Nanaimo Bars as the challenge for the month. The sources she based her recipe on are 101 Cookbooks and www.nanaimo.ca.

For Gluten-Free Graham Wafers
recipe from Lauren of Celiac Teen who adapted it from 101 Cookbooks

1 cup (138 g) (4.9 ounces) Sweet rice flour (also known as glutinous rice flour)
3/4 cup (100 g) (3.5 ounces) Tapioca Starch/Flour
1/2 cup (65 g) (2.3 ounces) Sorghum Flour
1 cup (200 g) (7.1 ounces) Dark Brown Sugar, Lightly packed
1 teaspoon (5 mL) Baking soda
3/4 teaspoon (4 mL ) Kosher Salt
7 tablespoons (100 g) (3 ½ ounces) Unsalted Butter (Cut into 1-inch cubes and frozen)
1/3 cup (80 mL) Honey, Mild-flavoured such as clover.
5 tablespoons (75 mL) Whole Milk
2 tablespoons (30 mL) Pure Vanilla Extract

Directions:
1. In the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade, combine the flours, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. Pulse on low to incorporate. Add the butter and pulse on and off, until the mixture is the consistency of a coarse meal. If making by hand, combine aforementioned dry ingredients with a whisk, then cut in butter until you have a coarse meal. No chunks of butter should be visible.
2. In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, whisk together the honey, milk and vanilla. Add to the flour mixture until the dough barely comes together. It will be very soft and sticky.
3. Turn the dough onto a surface well-floured with sweet rice flour and pat the dough into a rectangle about 1 inch thick. Wrap in plastic and chill until firm, about 2 hours, or overnight.
4. Divide the dough in half and return one half to the refrigerator. Sift an even layer of sweet rice flour onto the work surface and roll the dough into a long rectangle, about 1/8 inch thick. The dough will be quite sticky, so flour as necessary. Cut into 4 by 4 inch squares. Gather the scraps together and set aside. Place wafers on one or two parchment-lined baking sheets. Chill until firm, about 30 to 45 minutes. Repeat with the second batch of dough.
5. Adjust the rack to the upper and lower positions and preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (180 degrees Celsius).
6. Gather the scraps together into a ball, chill until firm, and reroll. Dust the surface with more sweet rice flour and roll out the dough to get a couple more wafers.
7. Prick the wafers with toothpick or fork, not all the way through, in two or more rows.
8. Bake for 25 minutes, until browned and slightly firm to the touch, rotating sheets halfway through to ensure even baking. Might take less, and the starting location of each sheet may determine its required time. The ones that started on the bottom browned faster.
9. When cooled completely, place enough wafers in food processor to make 1 ¼ cups (300 mL) of crumbs. Another way to do this is to place in a large ziplock bag, force all air out and smash with a rolling pin until wafers are crumbs.

Nanaimo Bars
recipe from Lauren of Celiac Teen

For Nanaimo Bars — Bottom Layer
1/2 cup (115 g) (4 ounces) Unsalted Butter
1/4 cup (50 g) (1.8 ounces) Granulated Sugar
5 tablespoons (75 mL) Unsweetened Cocoa
1 Large Egg, Beaten
1 1/4 cups (300 mL) (160 g) (5.6 ounces) Gluten Free Graham Wafer Crumbs (See previous recipe)
1/2 cup (55 g) (1.9 ounces) Almonds (Any type, Finely chopped)
1 cup (130 g) (4.5 ounces) Coconut (Shredded, sweetened or unsweetened)

For Nanaimo Bars — Middle Layer
1/2 cup (115 g) (4 ounces) Unsalted Butter
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons (40 mL) Heavy Cream
2 tablespoons (30 mL) Vanilla Custard Powder (Such as Bird’s. Vanilla pudding mix may be substituted.)
2 cups (254 g) (8.9 ounces) Icing Sugar

For Nanaimo Bars — Top Layer
4 ounces (115 g) Semi-sweet chocolate
2 tablespoons (28 g) (1 ounce) Unsalted Butter

Directions:
1. For bottom Layer: Melt unsalted butter, sugar and cocoa in top of a double boiler. Add egg and stir to cook and thicken. Remove from heat. Stir in crumbs, nuts and coconut. Press firmly into an ungreased 8 by 8 inch pan.
2. For Middle Layer: Cream butter, cream, custard powder, and icing sugar together well. Beat until light in colour. Spread over bottom layer.
3. For Top Layer: Melt chocolate and unsalted butter over low heat. Cool. Once cool, pour over middle layer and chill.

the shopkeeper

On a sultry July day, the shopkeeper lounges in front of his antique shop. A wide brim straw hat masks his shiny scalp from the sun. He rests his denim clad legs and bare feet over a chair. He sips black turkish coffee and reads the Daily Gazette. His dog, a pale golden lab, sleeps nearby in the shade.

The shopkeeper and his dog stretch mid-morning. They cross the road to a grassy field, narrowly avoiding the tangle of cars speeding by. Through the field and uphill, the two walk until they reach the top and disappear down the other side.

The sign on the shop reads, Be back in thirty.

On their return trip, the shopkeeper pulls a torn baguette, a wedge of Camembert cheese, and three medallions of salami from his pocket. He tosses the salami to his dog as they sit on the edge of the brook running through the base of the field.

A customer waits outside the shop door. She taps her foot, thirty-five minutes pass. When the shopkeeper and his dog return to find the woman outside he unlocks the door, removes the note from the door, and greets the woman.

"Nice day, isn't it," he says, "hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Right, never mind all that, just let me in," she says, "I'm looking for a particular painting. A rare and stolen painting taken from a museum in Zurich two years ago. Maybe you've seen the painting in question, Van Gogh's Blossoming Chestnut Branches? It's been missing for two years. A little absurd that such a treasure could end up here, I know. Why would you have a Van Gogh for sale in this little shack out in the middle of nowhere? Well, I'll tell you why. It was traced ... "

Her voice trails off as if she can't be bothered to explain herself further. She brushes past the shopkeeper and his dog, in near collision.

"I can't say that I've seen a Van Gogh," he says, "outside of a museum I mean. Care for a cup of tea?"

"Tea," she hisses, "really, I can't be bothered with such frivolity at a time like this. The world is coming unglued and I don't think tea is the answer."

The woman puts on a pair of gloves and sorts through a stack of modern paintings.

Inside his standing room only shop is a tidy homage to silver, porcelain, paper, and glass. The narrow aisles are barely hip-width, yet with all the history stored in postcard sized space, it is spotless. Not a speck of dust to be traced with a white glove. The clocks, spoons, books, paintings, maps, and furnishings are densely packed in an architecture of display.

The shopkeeper takes a seat on a narrow bench next to a towering stack of yellow newspapers. He straightens the stack then walks over to the record player and carefully places the needle on and plays Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings.

"Listen," she says, "I'm sorry if I'm being a little brusque. My reputation's on the line and I must find this painting."

She hands the shopkeeper her business card.

Cassandra Templeton

Art Recovery Specialist

16 East 81st Street

New York, New York 10001

212.ART.4YOU

"Mr. Renard, I'll be in touch," she says.

"Please, it's Jean-Louis," he says.

She hurries outside closes the shop door, he walks over to the painting centered on the back wall and nudges it a hare right, just until the sun lights up the citrus colored branches.

The food art of Laura Miner, an interview

After I discovered Boston-based artist Laura Miner on Eat Me Daily’s web site, I had to learn more about the artist behind the camera.

Read on.

Dyatlov Pass Incident, 2008, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

For art and food lovers, Miner offers a haunting visual and emotional twist on food art. Her close-up photographs of food stills and landscapes ask us to view the act of eating in new and often unsettling ways.

Snowball, 2009, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

In her 2009 series, Viscid (meaning glutinous/sticky), Miner photographed pre-packaged sweets, like Twinkies and Snowballs that have become lunch box staples for American youth and adults alike.

Twinkie, 2009, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

Twinkie is a moody photograph. It’s also set in fantasy, one where the yellow snack cake was victimized and left to rot. Straight pins pierce the yellow charred looking flesh; the cream breaks through the skin.

Jelly (1 of 3), 2009, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

The viewer falls prey to both seduction and disgust when viewing Miner’s mangled snack cake images and her war torn food landscapes. Either way, she stirs unexpected emotions in her photographs.

Blackrain or Nagasaki, 2008, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

Nedelin Disaster, 2008, Laura Miner, photos displayed with artist's permission.

A&L: Describe the first photograph or piece of art you made? When was that?

LM: The first photograph I remember taking was in 2002. I was a freshman in high school taking a color photography class at RISD (Rhode Island School of Design). We were just taking pictures of things we brought in. I brought a plastic magnolia flower. The classroom didn't appeal to me as a background, so I photographed the flower inside a blue plastic bag. The photograph is dreamy. The light filtering through the bag makes everything look soft. It's like a flower underwater. It sounds really dramatic for a first photograph, but my instinct has never been to document reality.


A&L: Who and what have inspired you as an artist?

LM: In the beginning I was definitely channeling my past. I used to make dollhouses out of boxes and shelf tops at my grandma and grandpa's house. While I played I always wished that I were small enough to fit in the worlds I made. Later, when I started photography, I learned very quickly that I could make worlds that only existed in the photograph. Through that I could express my imagination better than I ever could. David Levinthal was a huge influence. His train set figurines in film noir settings were the exact combination of childhood imagination mixed with darkness that I was going for. Levinthal's work influenced my set building, love of macro photography, and tendency to use a shallow depth of field.


A&L: When and why did you start photographing food?

LM: I didn't consciously photograph food until my junior year of college. However, I have been photographing food since I was 15. In one of my first photography classes in high school I photographed cut peaches in black and white. It really repulsed my classmates. This definitely inspired me to use photography as an emotional tool, and food just fell into my work over the years. When I was a junior at Massachusetts College of Art and Design I took a bright and colorful photograph of a raw steak on 70's era foil wallpaper. My teachers and peers got really excited about the colors and textures in the photograph. I realized how much people could enjoy and hate certain foods, and decided that it would be a good thing to really investigate my relationship to food and photography. That is when I started my Food Landscapes, which included scenes made completely out of food items describing alien landscapes as well as the settings for horrifying real life events.


A&L: What do you think of David Lynch’s food sculpture photos like Clayhead with cheesy turkey and ants? I see some similarity in your food landscapes to his art.

LM: This is really embarrassing, but I have not seen those and could not find them on the Internet. I love David Lynch. I see similar tones in his films as I do in Levinthal's photographs. Lynch's films have been a strong influence on my interest in bizarre, sexual, and violent subject matter. I like how he can take something as squeaky clean as suburbia and make it disturbing. My work relates to his in this way. I take something as innocent as Twinkies, and I give them a dark existence.


A&L: Who are your photographic influences?

LM: Like I said earlier David Levinthal and David Lynch were huge influences. Ana Gaskell, Cindy Sherman, and Laurie Simmons also inspire me. Photographers, who make their work by playing and pretending, or staging such acts, really appeal to me. I like to think that I am doing something similar with my work. I also enjoy Uta Barth's photographs of "backgrounds". Her work really makes you think about what a photograph is as an object and a plane of existence.

A&L: How do you feel your work compares to your contemporaries?

LM: The kind of work I saw amongst my classmates at Mass Art (photography and other mediums) very often revolved around childhood memories. I think my contemporaries are fixated on understanding their past and the psychology behind it all. I know that I am concerned with the psychology behind food, and I keep returning to my childhood by building imagined environments.

A&L: What other subjects aside from food fascinate you?

LM: Serial killers. Even though I am extremely sensitive to blood and gore, the psychology behind heinous acts is really fascinating to me. In the same realm of interest, some of my food landscapes were based on tragic incidents that happened during the cold war. The Dyatlov Pass Incident and the Nedelin Disaster were my favorites. I am driven to mix food and violence. Maybe this is because I want the viewer to see something they allow into their bodies in a negative context, or as the embodiment of a negative occurrence. However, people also think my work is more beautiful than repulsive. My photographs walk a very thin line.

A&L: What camera(s) do you shoot with or is it project specific?

LM: I use a monorail 4 x 5 camera most of the time, but I have been known to use a digital slr or 35mm. My Food Landscapes, and the Viscid series were done with my 4x5. Currently I am working with 35mm.


A&L: Can you describe your photographic process? How long does it take for you to shoot one of your food landscape or food art images? How do you set-up your food landscapes?

LM: I try to photograph within a few hours because of the delicate nature of the food I use. However, some of the food landscapes sat around for a few days before I photographed them. I would plan out to a very small degree which food I would use. I always found something that appealed to me and bought it, and used it whenever I needed it.

On a table, with some plastic wrap and whatever I could get a hold of to prop it all up, I placed down some food, looked through the camera, and added more as I felt fit. From there the landscapes formed. Mold found its way into some of my work, but unfortunately the food began to stink faster than it molded. I also froze some of the food. It was important for images like Dyatlov Pass Incident to appear as cold as the Ural Mountains. Images for that section of the series tended to be more planned, less improvisational.

With the Viscid series I had a plan from the beginning about which snack cakes to use and what kind of environment they would be in. I bought a good portion of my supplies at once. It would take me a day to photograph one scene. I spread dirt out on a table, arranged the plastic plants, set down my cake of choice and start thinking about what I could do to accentuate its properties and appear ravaged. Then I would set up my camera, and explore the terrain, find the best angles, and dramatic lighting.


A&L: What’s next?

LM: I want to make more sculptures in conjunction with my photography. I have been working with epoxy resin and snack cakes so far. It would be great to go further with that. Otherwise, I think I'm going to stay on the sweeter end of the food spectrum with my subject matter.

To contact Miner or to discover more of her work, check out her web site.

my flux capacitor

If I travel back in time with a flux capacitor (in Back to the Future style), I would set the dial to September 8, 2007, our honeymoon in Wellington, New Zealand.

First, I would visit the Satay Kitchen in downtown Wellington, a restaurant tucked inside an alleyway of shops. D and I arrived there through a series of hilarious misadventures, all leading back to a plateful of day-glow yellow vegetable curry and spicy peanut sauce.

We flew from Auckland to Wellington that morning. It was a short flight, just under an hour. At the airport, we found a shuttle to drive us to the cheapest youth hostel listed in the Lonely Planet guide.

"Where to," the driver asked.

"The hostel on the hill," I said, "it's listed in the Lonely Planet."

I waved the book in the air. He peered at me through the rear view mirror.

"Are you sure that's where you want to go," he asked.

"Oh, yes," I said.

"I mean, wouldn't you rather stay at the International hostel. It's in the center of the city and the museum is right across the street," he said.

"No, the one on the hill will be fine," I said, "the reviews say it's great for the price."

He dropped us at the hostel. We checked into a room with bunk beds. The shared bathroom facilities were down the hall from our room. This was our honeymoon after all and adventure was at the top of my list.

The room was on the second floor. It possessed a particular aroma, one that had been curing for years in the low pile carpet, curtains, mattresses, and linens. A ghastly combination of mold, mildew, and sweat.

"I think we need a little air," I said.

I opened the window looking over the fire escape. D and I sat on the edge.

"Maybe incense would help," he said.

A plaque next to the door read "Absolutely no smoking or lighting candles or matches under any circumstances."

We dropped our bags and left to find a smoke shop. We bought a box of Nag Champa incense and a lighter. Before we left the store, I asked the clerk if he knew of any good Thai or Malaysian restaurants. He gave us directions to The Satay Kitchen, singing it's praises of brilliant and fast food as if he were at a pulpit made of glass and inside it held hand-blown glass pipes and ceramic cigarettes.

We thanked him and ate the best satay I've ever eaten, curried vegetables and rice in a bath of spicy peanut sauce before we returned to the hostel.

We lit a stick of incense with an open window, feeling like two teenagers lighting up behind the football stadium on a Saturday night. Smoke swirled in the air and drifted out to the city.

We sat on the ledge and after several minutes looked at each other and in unison said, "Let's get out of here."

We booked a ferry reservation for Picton on the south island, scheduled to leave later that evening and checked out. The clerk at the desk stared at us in amazement when we told her we couldn't stay due to the stench in the room.

"Allergies," I explained, "I'm allergic to mold and dust."

In hindsight, I think it was more about having a honeymoon adventure, you know bunk beds can be romantic too, than it was about saving a few dollars on a night in the city.

The January 2010 DC Challenge was hosted by Cuppy of Cuppylicious and she chose a delicious Thai-inspired recipe for Pork Satay from the book 1000 Recipes by Martha Day.

For my challenge, I substituted tofu for pork and made the peanut sauce for dipping. The satay was good enough to make me want to build my own DeLorean time machine equipped with a flux capacitor to travel back in time, although it simply cannot compare to The Satay Kitchen's fare.

Pork Satay with Peanut Sauce

Satay Marinade

1/2 small onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 T ginger root, chopped (optional) (2 cm cubed)
2 T lemon juice (1 oz or 30 mls)
1 T soy sauce (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 tsp ground coriander (5 mls)
1 tsp ground cumin (5 mls)
1/2 tsp ground turmeric (2-2.5 mls)
2 T vegetable oil (or peanut or olive oil) (30 mls)
1 pound of pork (loin or shoulder cuts) (16 oz or 450g)

Feeling the need to make it more Thai? Try adding a dragon chili, an extra tablespoon of ginger root, and 1 tablespoon (0.5 oz or 15 mls) of fish sauce. (I keep some premature (still green) dragon chili peppers in the freezer for just such an occasion.)

Directions:
1a. Cheater alert: If you have a food processor or blender, dump in everything except the pork and blend until smooth. Lacking a food processor, I prefer to chop my onions, garlic and ginger really fine then mix it all together in a medium to large bowl.
2a. Cut pork into 1 inch strips.
3a. Cover pork with marinade. You can place the pork into a bowl, cover/seal and chill, or place the whole lot of it into a ziplock bag, seal and chill.

Faster (cheaper!) marinade:

2 T vegetable oil (or peanut or olive oil) (1 oz or 30 mls)
2 T lemon juice (1 oz or 30 mls)
1 T soy sauce (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 tsp ginger powder (5 mls)
1 tsp garlic powder (5 mls)
1 tsp cayenne pepper (5 mls)

Directions:
1b. Mix well.
2b. Cut pork into 1 inch thick strips (2-2.5 cm thick), any length.
3b. Cover pork with marinade. You can place the pork into a bowl, cover/seal and chill, or place the whole lot of it into a ziplock bag, seal and chill.

Cooking Directions (continued):

4. If using wooden or bamboo skewers, soak your skewers in warm water for at least 20 minutes before preparing skewers.
5. Gently and slowly slide meat strips onto skewers. Discard leftover marinade.*
6. Broil or grill at 290°C/550° F (or pan fry on medium-high) for 8-10 minutes or until the edges just start to char. Flip and cook another 8-10 minutes.

* If you’re grilling or broiling, you could definitely brush once with extra marinade when you flip the skewers.

Peanut Sauce

3/4 cup coconut milk (6 oz or 180 mls)
4 Tbsp peanut butter (2 oz or 60 mls)
1 Tbsp lemon juice (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 Tbsp soy sauce (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 tsp brown sugar (5 mls)
1/2 tsp ground cumin (2.5 mls)
1/2 tsp ground coriander (2.5 mls)
1-2 dried red chilies, chopped (keep the seeds for heat)

1. Mix dry ingredients in a small bowl. Add soy sauce and lemon, mix well.
2. Over low heat, combine coconut milk, peanut butter and your soy-lemon-seasoning mix. Mix well, stir often.
3. All you’re doing is melting the peanut butter, so make your peanut sauce after you’ve made everything else in your meal, or make ahead of time and reheat.


Pepper Dip (optional)

4 Tbsp soy sauce (2 oz or 60 mls)
1 Tbsp lemon juice (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 tsp brown sugar (5 mls)
1-2 dried red chilies, chopped (keep the seeds for heat)
1 finely chopped green onion (scallion)

Mix well. Serve chilled or room temperature.

Tamarind Dip (optional)

4 Tbsp tamarind paste (helpful link below) (2 oz or 60 mls)
1 Tbsp soy sauce (0.5 oz or 15 mls)
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 finely chopped green onion (scallion)
1 tsp brown or white sugar, or to taste (about 5 mls)

Mix well. Serve chilled or room temperature.

a new year

"Happy New Year," I say.

A woman in her young sixties hunches over a speared shovel in the middle of a her driveway, almost out of breath. She wears a heavy overcoat, sweat pants, and snow boots.

Several inches of ice break into small chunks ready for a cocktail glass to toast the new year. Except she doesn't look to be in a salutatory kind of mood.

The axe strikes the ice and scatters more chips. She looks up to acknowledge me.

"Yeah, right, if I live through it," she says.

Arctic air blows across her face. She wraps her hands around the handle and continues breaking into the frozen past.

I think about the potato leek tart cooling on the kitchen table.

Warm goat cheese, Parmesan, purple potatoes, and leeks tossed in a parsley puree.

Maybe I'll invite her over for dinner – sharing a meal and conversation may change her mind.

p.s. What's your favorite meal or recipe to celebrate the new year . . . please feel free to share in the comments section.

Potato Leek Tart with Parsley Puree and Goat Cheese

(printable recipe)

Yield 6 to 8 servings

1 (9-inch) prebaked Tart Shell (see recipe below)

3 medium prebaked potatoes, yellow or purple, cut into thin rounds

6 small to medium leeks, cut into thin rounds

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

4 ounces goat cheese

1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1 large egg

1/2 cup creme fraiche

1/2 cup milk (whole or low-fat)

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 cup parsley puree (see recipe below)

2 teaspoons fresh parsley leaves (chopped)

Preheat oven to 400 F. Keep the prebaked tart shell on its baking tray.

Slice the leeks and prebaked potatoes into thin rounds and place them in a bowl of cold water to remove dirt. Strain.

Heat the butter and olive oil over medium heat in a large skillet, add the leeks and potatoes and cook until tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Toss the leek and potato mixture in a medium bowl with cup of parsley puree. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Beat the goat cheese with the egg until smooth, then stir in the milk, creme fraiche, pinch of salt, and black pepper. Grate the Parmesan cheese onto the bottom of the tart shell. Pour the custard over the cheese and bake until the custard is golden and set in the middle, about 30 minutes. Sprinkle parsley leaves on top. Remove the tart from the pan and transfer to a plate. Serve warm.

Parsley Puree

Yield about 1 cup

2 cups parsley leaves (thin stems are okay), rinsed and dried

sea salt

3-4 cloves garlic

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Place all ingredients in a food processor or blender and process until smooth, stopping to scrape down the sides of the container if necessary. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if necessary. Set aside.

Savory Tart Shell

1 1/4 cups white spelt flour

1/8 teaspoon sea salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut in small chunks

up to 1/4 cup ice water (as needed)

Blend the flour and salt in a mixer with a paddle attachment or in a food processor, then add the butter just until the the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add enough water for the dough to come together, then shape it into a disk and wrap with plastic. Chill the dough for 15 minutes.

Roll the dough into a 10-inch circle and place it on top of a 9-inch tart pan with removable rim. Shape the dough into the edges, the dough should stand about 1/4 inch above the rim and is about 1/4 inch thick. Prick the bottom with a fork 6 times, then freeze for 20 minutes.

While the tart dough rests in the freezer, preheat the oven to 425 F. Save left over dough to patch the tart shell.

Place the frozen tart shell on a baking tray and bake until it's light in color, about 25 minutes. Check after 15 minutes and deflate any swollen pockets of dough with a prick from the tip of a knife. Remove the tart from the oven when ready, mend any holes by gently pressing in small pieces of left over dough. Cool on a wire rack and set aside.

(This recipe is inspired by Deborah Madison's "Savory Goat Cheese Tart with Leeks" found in her book Local Flavors: Cooking and Eating from America's Farmers' Markets).