When most non-vegans think of vegan food we think spouts, copious amounts of tofu and generous portions of lettuce.  We don't often think tasty, fresh and "gosh, I didn't even know it was vegan" nutrition; which is the cornerstone of vegan cuisine served at Zen Kitchen.

The Zen of Ottawa's dining scene finds it's home in what used to be a small house on Sommerset, in the heart of Chinatown.  It's comfortable room, with warm coloured walls and abundant natural light seats it's clientele easily despite it's small size.  Our server, Chelsey, had an excellent grasp of the menu and it's ingredients, and all the questions we peppered her with were easily answered.

I started with the white-tea ginger kombucha, which is a fermented, flavoured tea, served cold (top photo).  The fermentation gives it it's fine effervescence.  I remember kombucha from the vending machines of Japan, it's extraordinarily refreshing.  The Zen Kitchen version, with the zip of ginger, clears the mouth and readies the palate for a menu void of meat, eggs and dairy.

The lunch menu is tight, with six options that include the Zen Burger (mushroom & walnut based), a Ruben sandwich (smoked tempeh & house fermented sauerkraut), Gourmet Salad (organic greens & spiced pepitas) and Mac & Cheese (with artisnal pasta & chipotle Mornay sauce) plus the two we tried, the Tortilla Wrap and the Sobe.  Lunch mains are $14 and come with your choice of soup, salad or fries and you can make the those fries a poutine for an extra $3.

The apple-butter-miso dengaku tofu skewers, with Hall's Apple Butter and white miso is featured on the Zen Kitchen dinner menu on the Main Sized Caesar Salad and the lunch menu's Gourmet Salad.  First pan fried, then skewered, sauced and finally grilled, it's tofu done, very well.  I'm not a big fan of tofu myself, it's the texture that offends me, but this was firm, crisp on the outside and soft and warm on the inside, was a marvelous combination of savory, salty and sweet.

"We don't do much tofu and we don't try to imitate meat" volunteers co-owner & sommelier Dave Loan.

Zen Kitchen offers refreshingly little in the way of tofu and no meat substitutes, like tofurky.  Which only serves to underscore the variety of ingredients on the menu; the use of nutrient rich foods, seeds, nuts and greens makes for food that is refined and lively.

My lunch, the Tortilla Wrap with garam masala curry and puy lentils, sauteed vegetables, house pickled onions, spiced chutney.  Sauteed vegetables included avocado and sweet potato, which were outstanding and smooth against the curry and lentils.  The fresh crispness of micro greens, fresh and raw, lent a slight crunch.  It was not overly spiced and perfectly seasoned, and for me who's who's eating lighter... the perfect lunch.

Sopé - leavened house corn tortilla with sauteed vegetables and tofu scramble, Mornay sauce and house salsa, served with a side of rice is among the many Zen Kitchen gluten free options and my charming companion's lunch, which she consumed with appreciation and some well chosen adjectives.

We were both thrilled to see Sopé on the menu, it's hard to find Sopé outside of Mexico and the southwest United States, one of the stables of Mexican cuisine and wonderfully adapted to vegan cuisine at the hands of Chef Caroline Ishii.  The tortilla itself is a marvel, it has height, like a little corn cake, and the tofu scramble was tasty and sharp.  The mornay sauce made with the nutritional yeast, is a clever substitute for cheese against a tangy simple salsa and a creamy guacamole.

In one of the most intimate and connected conversations I've had with a chef, co-owner Chef Caroline Ishii shared a vision of her cuisine that is at once simple and articulate.

"It's not just vegan food, it's good tasting food... delicious food!  It must be as good, or better, than the original." 

If Chef Caroline hadn't driven that point home with entrees, she sure packs a punch with the sweets, which show a deep understanding of both technique and ingredients.   Chef's Dessert Sampler ($12) Peanut Butter Pie, Chocolate Beer Cake made with local Broadhead Beer served with an orange coulee, and Carrot Zucchini Cake with creamy citrus frosting and raspberry coulee.  As well as the gluten-free Sundae with Brownie chunks, chocolate sauce, vanilla ice cream, house whipped cream ($6) in the bottom photo.

Dessert left me speechless.  Using coconut cream to substitute for dairy whipped cream (with the stabilizing agent of guar gum) is at once tasty and pleasing to both the mouth and the eye.  The carrot zucchini cake was moist & spicy, not enough people use allspice in my opinion, so I was delighted to find it's flavour here.   I left inspired to try a few do Chef Caroline's ideas at home!

Many list 'love' as their secret ingredient, Zen Kitchen adds not just love, but the conscious intent to deliver the very best in nutrition and taste.   Among the most deeply satisfying meals I have had anywhere, Zen Kitchen delivers truly inspired cuisine.

"I have a need to nourish."  ~ Chef Caroline Ishii 

Zen Kitchen
634 Somerset Street West
Ottawa, Ontario
613-233-6404
www.zenkitchen.ca

Dear Santa;

Thanks for the Easy Bake Oven in 1972, it was swell.

The dog was the lucky recipient of my baking ‘experiments’ for years.  Some things change and some things stay the same.  The dogs are still occasional recipients of kitchen disasters, which are fewer now but in many ways far more spectacular.

To think, it all started with that Easy Bake Oven and a box of Betty Crocker cake mix.

Which brings us to this year Santa Dear, while you may have heard me pining for a  Komodo Kamato Cooker (Easy Bake Oven on steroids), I’m writing to let you off the hook this year because I gave myself the gift of letting go.

For years I’ve been the peace maker, the catalyst, the coach and the healer.  I've repaired broken relationships, mended fences and stayed in contact.  I’ve reached out and reached in, forgiven and made amends so that everyone would be happy.

This year I’m taking a different tact, issues that need addressing, I've addressed as much as others would allow.  People I love who have chosen, for their own reasons, to leave my life are free to do so.  I honour their decision.  I trust that they know what's best for them at this moment.

We’re all just doing the best we can with where we’re at.  

Instead of picking up the pieces for those who have not asked for my help, I remember that we are all capable of fostering our own healing and I give those that need it, the time and space to do so.

I’m sure you understand this sentiment Santa, some accept the gifts you give with enthusiasm and others can’t see what you offer because they’re so mired in personal turmoil and pain.

When they’re ready, some will find their way back, while others may choose to hold on to that pain for a long time to come.  I know all too well how pain can become your companion, your friend, your identity; because there was a time when it was mine.

I have come to learn that those who choose joy --- will find it.

So you can skip my name on your list this year Mr. Claus, I already have everything I need.

There’s still cookies though,

~ Gypsy

PS:  Do you sell reindeer meat?  What, like I'm the first to ask...?!

There is nothing that says autumn quite like apple pie.  It reminds me of home; gathering apples with my mother, standing on a chair over a bucket in the sink learning to peel, core and cut as she told stories of her childhood.   How she and her siblings would help spilt and stack the wood for my Grandmother’s stove; then being the eldest girl, she would stand on a chair beside her mother and help peel, core and cut.

The stories my mother told about growing up on a farm income, her father ill from Black Lung disease (before government health care and workman’s compensation), never failed to impress upon me the good fortune of my life.

Somehow apple pie has become a symbol of appreciation; for friends and family, far and near, for the roof over my head, the clothes on my back and the fact that tonight I will enjoy more than this pie.  The simple act of being grateful for what you DO have brings forward more to be grateful for.

There have been lean times.  I have known hunger (the pangs of which are still familiar) but like many things, this too did pass.  This is the reason I buy food for street people, support orphanages as I travel and food banks at home.  This is why I feed people, mind body and soul --- I am grateful to be able to do so.

I can't think of a better way to amplify the power of gratitude, that is apple pie, than to add one of nature's most nutrient rich fruits to the mix.  The Gojo (pronounced: go-GEE) berry contains more vitamin C than oranges, more beta-carotene than carrots, and more iron than steak.   Goji is called the “longevity fruit” and claims say it's good for everything from weight loss to fighting cancer; perfect for my "Attitude of Gratitude Apple Pie".

May you live long and be grateful.

Apple Goji Berry Pie - Recipe

Prep time: 1 hour
Cooking time: 50  minutes - 1 hour

Ingredients:

Pate Brisee – Butter Pastry

2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup cold, unsalted butter, cubed
1/4 cup cold, lard, cubed
1/4 cup ice water
flour, as needed
2 tablespoons cream, for glazing

Apple Filling

1 ½ - 2 pounds (approximately 6) baking apples, peeled, cored & sliced
½ cup dried goji berries
1/3 cup honey
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground, fresh nutmeg

Method:

Dough: Place 1 cup flour in salt in standing mixer with dough hook attachment, turn on low and add the butter in a handful at a time, in about 4 batches. Increase to medium speed and when butter is incorporated, stop machine, scrape down sides or dislodge dough from mixing arm. Turn on to low again and slowly add remaining flour, followed by the water, mix until just incorporated. Remove and wrap in plastic wrap refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Apple filling: Mix apples, goji berries, honey and spices in a bowl and allow to stand, at room temperature for 10 - 15 minutes while you prepare the pastry.

Preheat oven to 425*

Rub a thin coat of butter over the inside of a 9-inch pie plate. Roll out approximately two-thirds of the dough and line the inside of your plate. Pack apple, goji berry filling into the pie shell, heaping to the center.  Roll out the remainder of the dough to from the lid. Dampen the edges of the pastry with water and then gently transfer pasty to top of pie, pressing the edges firmly to crimp.

Use remaining dough to decorate top if you wish; cut, dampen the back with water and gently apply.  Use paring knife to cut one or two small steam holes on the top then brush with cream.  The cream glaze gives the pie a light sheen and helps it to brown.   Before baking, be sure to place your pie on a baking sheet, just in case juices bubble over.

Bake in a pre-heated 425* oven for 20 minutes, then reduce the temperature to 350* and bake for a 20 minutes.   Immediately turn the oven off and let the pie stand in the warm oven, door closed, for another 10 -15 minutes.

This method of cooking helps the pastry to brown, the apples to cook through and then allows the juices to settle - without burning.

Gypsy note:  A tough day with pastry.  Oh well.  Still grateful, I have PIE!

Happy THANKS-GIVING.

Brushed with cream, about to go into the oven, with great thanks...

Celebrate every moment, every milestone, every day, every corner turned.  This is your life. ~ Gypsy

Friday, March 25, 2011. Graduation day at Le Cordon Bleu Ottawa.

A day to celebrate the achievements of friends and former classmates, cheering wildly from the bleachers, herding them into small groups for forced photo opportunities.  These are the moments that make up our lives.  Milestones remind us how far we've come, they demonstrate the trajectory of our life and allow time for renewal and adjustment.

Each life is formed by the choices we make.  Perhaps the most important life lesson - learned at any age - is the lesson of learning to trust yourself and the choices you make.  Interesting that this day of celebration should fall on the anniversary of the day that changed my life.  One year to the day since my final departure from The Dragonfly Inn, the day I embarked on a whole new life.   In it - I gave myself a freedom that before I'd only dreamed of.

I created something totally new and recreated myself in the process.  On those days when doubt creeps in, I step back to see the bigger picture, the underlying passion that is the foundation of this new life.  Five countries and 30,000 miles.  I let my desire for salt and sand lead, followed with an insatiable desire to learn.  I did things I've never done before, I learned to 'wing it' in whole new ways, and the results are nothing short of amazing.

I learned to think less and feel more.  The heart has greater intelligence than the brain --- it will tell you when to move forward, when to stand still and when to run like hell.

I learned to listen to my heart... one thing I know for sure... it always works out.   Every single time.   So if it looks like it's not working out that just means it's not done cooking yet.

"How long do we cook it Chef?"
"Until it's done..."

I chose not to walk across the same stage as my former classmates now graduating from Intermediate Cuisine. Instead I chose my own stage, pushing to new heights and professional achievements, following my bliss.  I have my own trajectory of life, love and personal happiness.

The way we create success is not by turning our back on those we love, but by wrapping our arms around them at every opportunity, no matter where we go, because that is where happiness lies...

... in the heart.

I have a good heart.  It guides me well.  I trust it.  It loves champagne and celebrations, naps, chocolate and laughter.  Can't wait to see where that heart takes me next.  It keeps going on about Italy... this should be interesting.

Apparently, it's not done yet.

This is my own version of  'Superior Cuisine'.   This Gypsy has itchy feet.

Congratulations on a job well done! Drink in your life...

Well... the knives are sharp...

It all boils down to this.  How much have you learned?  How far have you come?

Can you now step up and be confident enough, solid enough within yourself and the new knowledge imparted over the last ten weeks to cook... well?

Yes.  Of course we can.

Spent the weekend in good company.  Laughing.  Practicing and quizzing all day.

Blowing off some steam on Saturday night.  My booze addled brain appeared to absorb more readily on Sunday morning.  Sunday night at 9pm... we hit the wall... the wall that said:

"You know what you know... now... let go."

Letting go.

There is such a thing as "over studying", moving past the place of knowledge into the place of doubt.

Instead, I sharpened the crease in my pants and the edge on my knifes. Then I slept, easily dreaming.  Grateful for every moment along this journey of 20,000 miles.  It has been one truly amazing year.

This is what I came here for.  To know what I did not know.

No matter what the outcome, I am better for the experience.  Richer for the knowledge.  Deeper in the kitchen.

Tonight, after I serve these last two plates in Basic Cuisine, I will clean out my locker and come home to the bottle of champagne in the fridge, and I will celebrate the journey.

I will toast the many times I set fear aside... fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of success... fear of not being enough.  I will toast moving my entire life, embracing the moment, and with one big, deep breath... jumping...

That is something worth celebrating.

Then I will open the fridge and say..."Hmmm, do I want the lamb, the chicken or the veal?!"  There's a whole lot of French food in my fridge!

Feeding my lovely neighbour Daname!

 There is a certain calm that comes with the smoothing of wrinkles.   A quiet that is afforded the freshly pressed.

I remember the day, three months ago, when I slipped into the white jacket with blue piping and embroidered crest of Le Cordon Bleu, Ottawa for the first time.   It was a day that was two years in the making.

It said to me that I was now a member of a private club; the fellowship of butter.

In that first moment as I saw myself in it for the first time I saw in my reflection a life not yet fully dreamed.  A life of opportunities yet to be discovered and doors yet to be opened.

Each time I iron that crest I am reminded of those who have walked these halls before me and those who will come after...  living their dream.

Each day I slip into that jacket’s cool crispness I am reminded how far I've come in just one year.

Then I turn up my sleeves, tie my apron around my waist and walk into the shining stainless steel kitchen with very sharp knives.

Pressing on.   We have less than two weeks until our final exam.  These last nine have flown by in record speed.  Opprontily knocks and doors swing open.  Where will these Gypsy feet take me now?

Something tells me... it’s time to get that Ontario driver’s licence... I’m going to be here for a while.   Just a few details yet to iron out.

I love an open door and a "welcome" mat.

Living dreams not yet dreamed.

The trinket men arrive by bus just after 6 AM, hauling large beige sacks on their shoulders stuffed with tourist swag; jewellery, wooden bowls, snorkelling gear, t-shirts and fridge magnets, to set up shop on the beach for the day.

The sun is thin, rising behind the mountains to the east that are the ridgeback of Roatan, a 40 mile stretch of land surrounded by reefs. The home beach - West Bay Beach is a sunset beach, shaded by the mountain in the early morning, it makes it a cool walk, swim or... run.  It has been my practice for the last two weeks to go to the beach as the sun comes up and... move.

Before the ATVs churn the sand, the beach men emerge with long rakes and divers load tanks into waiting boats - life begins anew with the ocean at our feet.

It’s simple. I like simple.  Actually, it’s easy I really like... make things as easy as possible.
There is elegance in island life. A simple rhythm that finds itself in 12 hours days balanced by 12 hour nights. Equality.

For the last 3 months I’ve been asking myself the same question: “Am I brave enough to move... to paradise?”

When I moved to Nova Scotia I often joked that it was as far as I could go, without leaving the country.   Now, with the flood gates open to new opportunity, do I know what I want?

Yes. It’s a simple life... well lived.  A life filled with joy and love (a decent kitchen) and... it’s warm.

Last night I barely slept, tossing in thoughts that make me uncomfortable, dreams that made me sweat. Rather than run or walk... this was a morning for the water. Floating on my back in this crystal clear bay of the Caribbean I heard a new question...

“Can you live without this?”

New answer. No. No, I cannot live without the life I’ve found. I need it.
It's a part of me, the part of me that longs for quiet and relaxed... and fun. The part that naps in hammocks and cries at long distance commercials.

My heart is at home...

Can I live without a certain amount of first world comfort to live in a setting that brings me great peace? Yes. Can I live without warm waters and sandy beaches? No. Does it have to be this beach? No. (I think I prefer to move around a bit, travel light - a year here, 4 months there, and 6 months there - Atlantic, Pacific, Indian, and Mediterranean... so much world to be explored.)

On Saturday I depart for Mexico, and then back again to Canada. I leave behind... a little over ten pounds which fell off me in two weeks, like stepping out of a fat suit. I leave behind... a shell necklace, a gift from an artisan in Cuba, it broke on the terra cotta floor after a day in the ocean, I think it’s best to give it back to the waters it came from... a gift to a new life.

One I just can’t live without.

Tourists lounge by the pool.  Taut nubile bodies in high-cut bottoms and slack pale bodies with no right to “Speedo”.  Bless Brazilian women.  Bless European men.   He strides by with the same confidence as she - her naked, round rear half exposed in the sun... him... flashing as he walks. 

I’m just here for the sun. 

One must assume that he purchased that Speedo in 1976. It makes me wish Speedos had an expiration date, slowly rotting away in a drawer only to be left with a tag that reads “Sorry Monsieur, we regret to inform, you are no longer Speedo material”.  I suspect that, if this were the case, he would immediately purchase another.  There should be a licence for such things. 

If nothing else it amuses me.  I practice diverting my eyes.  No books to read, I am content to lean back and watch the clouds go by.   Mist swirling into mist appearing and reappearing.  To the left, a black cloud looms, Havana’s 2 o’clock shower. 

High above us floats a bright butterfly.  Oblivious, it flits along its way, drifting on the breeze on an uncertain course out to sea and just as quickly it’s snatched from the skies by a stealthy swallow. 

Gone is the butterfly. 

Snuffed out and fed to chirping baby birds under the eaves of the Copacabana.  I am reminded how precious freedom is.  Easy and carefree one moment, crushed the next. 

Everybody’s gotta’ eat.

Gathering my things I join my companion, Texas, at table near the sea wall, in the shade.  We're having a lazy day.  It’s not long before the rain starts.  Gentle showers, then without warning, it gushes buckets and sends even the children - delighting in playing in a pool with water that bounces up - scurrying for cover. 

Everybody out of the pool, and into the rum.  Except the kids of course. 

As I sip my Cuba Libre, I ponder... the butterfly... the sparrow... the cloud... the nature of liberty. 

The uncertain future of a nation on the knife’s edge of change.  Will beautiful buildings now compelling become an endless stretch of MacDonald’s and Starbucks in a homogenized post-communist Cuba?  What will become of her people when it is again franchised by America?  Will there be equality in change or simply more disparity?  Time will tell. 

I am grateful to have seen it, flawed and imperfect, still gripping to its ideology, but, everybody's  gotta' eat.  Until then... there is music and beauty in everyday and the smiles of a people so welcoming... I wish them wings. 

Such is a day in Havana.