People are always comparing the F.C. to someone.  At a party, an actor friend likened him to a young Marlon Brando. My clever screenwriting pal Gerard thinks he looks like the blonde guy from Dukes of Hazard (ick!) but mostly I think he looks like “David” as in The Statue of David.

To prove the point, during our cfc photo shoot last night (taking pictures of the Scandalous Scallops In A Creamy Tomato Sauce) my friends Brent and Peter  snapped these very decisive pics.

I can’t believe it! Margo, my make-up artist friend and boy magnet from NYC, finally sent me a recipe! She’s currently living with her hot American boyfriend (Greg, a clothing boutique owner) in a cottage they rented in upstate New York from a former porn star. (It’s true.)  I can’t wait to pay a visit and see what else she’s cooking up there. This is one of her latest green concoctions, beautifully photographed. Thanks Margo.  Montreal misses you.

The Greenest Thing Going 

Margo didn’t provide any specific directions and quantities, but I think we get the idea. With salads, it’s okay to be loose and flowing.

Ingredients

spinach arugula avocado minced fresh herbs mixed with olive oil rock sea salt fresh pepper  

Remember Catherine, the girl who flirted with my friend  Marc by emailing him some of her favourite recipes (see: A Taste Of Catherine)? Well I finally had the chance to meet her (Marc and she are dating now) and man, did she live up to her Flirty Fruity Couscous Salad. (You really can judge a girl by her recipes.) Even cooler,  this brainy gorgeous girl is writing her Master’s thesis on food semiotics. How perfect is that?   I’ve asked her to guest blog in the near future and I really hope she does.

Inevitably Catherine and I were talking about my blog and  whether or not I should feature a recipe with each post. (I’ve been holding back on certain posts with no recipe attached.)  She said I should relax about that. Mix it up.  Surprise people. But I wasn’t sure…

That’s when “The Raw and the Cooked” came up.  (“The Raw and the Cooked” is a book by French structural anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss who uses these food terms to describe culture.)  Using this handy analogy, I decided my blog was cooked. It’s written and shaped. Stories always make a food:love connection. Photos have to be well-lit and appetizing.  Recipes titles need to be funny and punny. And posts must contain recipes.  ” I’m a cooking blog,” I argued, “so it’s okay to be cooked.”

But I’ve changed my mind. about this. As a professional writer, I’m trained to bake my words until there’s no nutrients or flavour left in them. This is one of the reasons I wanted to write a blog in the first place; to express what I’m actually living and feeling, not processing everything through the TV formula mill (yet another apt food analogy.)

So, like a crispy carrot on a veggie tray,  some of my cfc posts will be more raw, a quick thought or silly idea.  Others might even be half-baked!  And no, not all posts need to have recipes.

When I told people that I was having my first official dinner date with the F.C. at my apartment,  it was greeted with some controversy. Questions and comments included, “Isn’t cooking at your place a lot of pressure?” Or, “Sounds too intense for an early date.”

Well I say cooking chez toi is way less intense and pressured than eating in a restaurant.  Okay, I admit I’m a control freak– and home is a place I already know and feel good in. No annoying waiter, no bad music and no awkward moment when the bill arrives. And the cooking part gives me chance to parade around in a pretty outfit; stirring, chopping, and twirling around like a kitchen nymph.  What’s high stress about that?

That said, I agree, there are also risks. So here’s my checklist for ways to come off as a domestic goddess (not Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction.)

Six Tips to a Perfect First Date Dinner Chez Toi

1. De-spinster your apartment; removing all but one of your seven cats, bridal magazines and anything that seems too controlled or perfect. Your place should be relaxed, not nutty.
2. Don’t pick a complicated dish. My Man Trap Moules Frites says I’m sexy and chill, but Foie Gras-Stuffed Roast Turkey and Baked Alaska says I’m desparate. Spend your extra energy — and money — looking hot.
3. Don’t invite a total unknown. The first date dinner chez toi is only for the cock you’ve already sparked with, like I did with my French cock.
4. Sprinkle loose change on the floor; a quarter here, dime and penny there. I don’t know why, but guys like finding money and giving it to you. It’s the retriever in them. If they pocket it, you’ll know they’re freaks and can scratch them off your list forever.
5. Turn off or dim all overhead lighting. A kitchen that’s bright enough for a dentist to work on your back molars isn’t conducive to romance, and very unforgiving on your skin. 
6. If you have a roommate, pick a night when they’re out. If not, it’s okay for a roomie to pass through and say hi, even sample the food and wine. Good roomies give you “context.” They show Mr. Cock that you have others in your life who care about you. However, if your roomie is too much of a wild card (talking about past boyfriends or how much you stunk up the bathroom yesterday morning) stick to the plan of making sure they’re not home and, yeah, try to find a new roomie.

Marc taste-tests Catherine on my front balcony.

My friend Marc is flirting with a promising little dish named “Catherine” who’s ingredients include Masters Student In Philosophy, amateur pianist and… vegetarian. (Marc is a carnivore.)

After connecting at a party (where they talked about food) Catherine emailed Marc some of her favourite vegetarian recipes. Marc tried one, loved it, and scheduled a first date.

When I heard about this, I knew it was a “cooking for cock” story. Why? For one, I just love the fact that Catherine flirted with Marc by sending him a recipe she loved — a sample of her in a way.

Curious I decided to try one of Catherine’s vegetarian recipes. She sent Marc four (it takes four seasons, and four recipes, to know a woman) but I chose Catherine’s Flirtatious Couscous Salad because it’s summery and cool. And if this salad is any indication of Catherine’s dating potential,  I think I’m in love.  

That's Marc's hand, stirring Catherine's couscous.

Flirty Fruity Couscous Salad

Easy to prepare,  cheap, light, low in fat,  the Morroccan seasoning and fruity yumminess give this salad a sexy, exotic kick. Perfect for a romantic picnic or summer barbeque. I paired it with grilled lamp chops one night, and a curry veal sausage another time. Also yummy on its own, for lunch, dinner or picnics.

Ingredients:

2 cups Good Stock (I used organic chicken stock since I’m not vegetarian)

3/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/4 teaspoon turmeric

1 cup couscous

1 medium carrot, cut into 1/4 inch dice (or smaller)

1 small red onion, cut into 1/4 inch dice (or smaller) (because I don’t love raw onion, I used 1/4 cup  only)

1 small red bell pepper, cut into 1/4 inch dice (or smaller)

1 small cucumber or zucchini, cut into 1/4 inch dice

1 small Granny Smith apple, cut into 1/4 inch dice (or smaller)

1/3 cup currants or raisins (I used dried cranberries, from Quebec.)

1-2 cups canned chick peas, rinsed and drained (I used 1/1/2)

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

In a heavy medium saucepan, whisk together the stock, cinnamon, ginger, cumin, and turmeric. Add the couscous in a slow steady stream, stirring constantly, and continue to boil, stirring, for 1 minute. Cover the pot tightly, remove from the heat and let stand for 15 minutes.

Fluff the couscous grains with a fork, transfer to a large mixing bowl and let cool. Then fluff again, rubbing with your fingers to break up any lumps.

Add the carrot, bell pepper, cucumber, onion, apple, currants and chick peas and toss.

In a small jar with a lid, shake the remaining 1/2 tablespoon olive oil with the lemon juice, salt and pepper until well mixed. Pour over the salad and toss well. Cover and refrigerate for several hours or up to 3 days. Season with additional salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste before serving.

I’ve been working in Toronto all week and crashing with my ex, aka, The Architect Cock, who I share a house with in Parkdale.  We went to Fiesta Farms for some groceries and the A.C. found some fresh Ontario peas for 2.99 a bag.   Excited, he said, “Imagine how these would taste in your risotto?”  (I’d made him my Risotto Aphrodisio the previous night with frozen cheap ones…)

For lunch, I wanted to use the peas in a salad. After reading a few recipes on the net that called for mayo, sour cream and bacon  I decided to keep it simple and light (the A.C. though brilliant and adorable, could lose a few pounds, and my nagging is probably one of the reasons we’re no longer together.)  I paired the peas with avocado and tomato. For a dressing I made an olive oil, lemon and mint vinaigrette. (There was tons of fresh mint in the garden, and mint seemed to be a common element in the recipes I found online…)

The morning rain had cleared so we ate the salad outside.  The Architect Cock looked very content and cute with his pea salad, and my hearted warmed, panged even, watching him on the chaise longue under the sun,  savouring each bite.   In that moment, everything was working between us in a way I wished it could all the time.

I Will Always Love You Pea Salad

Ingredients

Two cups fresh peas

1/2 cup avocado chopped (not too ripe)

1 firm vine ripened tomato, seeds squeezed out, chopped

juice of 1/2 fresh lemon

salt and pepper

two cloves garlic

a few sprigs of fresh mint

2 teaspoons grated or shaved parmesan

Directions

Steam peas for about 2 minutes, then rinse under cold water.  In a bowl, mix peas with chopped avocado and tomato. Toss with vinaigrette. Divide into two bowls and garnish with a sprig of fresh mint. Yum!

Next time I’m going to add a little shaved  or grated parmesan. I experimented at the end, sprinkling on a little grated in my dish, and it was good too.

On the topic of getting older, my Dad (aka “Dick” ) used to joke, “Let’s just say I’m not buying any more green bananas.”

Does this apply to men too? Right now, I’m at a point in my life where many of the single men I meet are younger, including The French Cock. But what can you do with a green banana?

When I looked up bananas on the Net,  under the heading, “banana selection and storage” one article said to “Base your choice of bananas depending upon when you want to consume them.”

When do I want to eat this banana? I seem to be enjoying him right now. Good flavours. Sweet. Nice texture. Perfect size. But am I getting the full antioxidants of a ripe banana? Is he ready for the things I”m ready for, in fact, long overdue for, it not too late for? 

For quick ripening, one article suggests putting your green bananas in a brown paper bag. Will that work with a person? Or do you have put in air holes?

But wait a sec– can’t a green banana be good on its own terms? 

When I looked up green banana recipes on the net I found many recipes (http://uktv.co.uk/food/recipe/aid/599172 looked good)  mostly for the plaintain, which “can be enjoyed at all stages of ripeness”.  Even more interesting, one article said that bananas are better for cooking when they are underripe since they maintain their consistency.

And it’s true, the FC has already proven solid under a many heated situations, including an overflowing toilet, minor health scare (I have one a week) continuous references to my biological clock, and an ex-boyfriend in Toronto who I still love. 

This green banana also introduced me to his family within the first month of knowing him. Celebrates anniversaries. Plays tennis gracefully. Isn’t clingy. Holds down a 9-5 job. Can talk about marriage and kids without blanching.  Encouraged me to start a blog (even bought me the domain name as a push).  Is into real estate. And the kicker? He’s taking me to the south of France this summer for a friend’s wedding. How much more proof do I need?

Photo kindly taken for me by Joey Bangsund. 

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