Widow's Endorphins: Aye Aye, Aioli!

Widow's Endorphins: Aye Aye, Aioli!: Like the signal from a Bosun's pipe, the call went out that one of our own would be in town, and it was all hands on deck.  This w...

Aye Aye, Aioli!

Like the signal from a Bosun's pipe, the call went out that one of our own would be in town, and it was all hands on deck.  This weekend, we had a mini reunion of "the girls" from highschool.  We may have graduated in 1974, but whenever we get together, we're 17 again!  

Each of us was to bring a dish to the potluck luncheon.  Some of us are vegan, or vegetarian.  Some are allergic to peppers, or stone fruits (unless they're cooked, which changes the enzymes, and makes them safe to eat.)  Some of us are on a low carb diet.  Some of us just don't like olives.

It was a simple dish of sauteed leeks, and pistachio nuts with garlic lemon aioli.  My Mum, who made everything from scratch, from grinding her own wheat for flour, to making her own mustard and mayonnaise, used to make aioli - a rich, thick French mayonnaise.  It has five basic ingredients:  egg yolk, olive oil, garlic, lemon, and mustard, plus salt and pepper.  What could possibly go wrong?

I could not find a garlic press.  After a futile attempt chasing pieces of garlic as they slid around a mortar and pestle, I found a meat tenderizing hammer.  A chimpanzee hammering on a clove of garlic might look brilliant on Youtube, I however, looked like, "you boob!"  

While all of this was going on, I forgot that while I'd turned off the stove, I'd left the leeks over a hot burner, and a few pieces were scorched.  When done properly, the leeks are translucent white and bright, fresh green.  They shouldn't be left to brown.  Oops.  

The egg yolks, smashed garlic and mustard were whirred through the blender, while I slowly added the olive oil, a small amount at a time.  It's a delicate process, because the oil can separate from the eggs. I could hear the change in consistency of the mixture, as it thickened into aioli.  I then added the lemon juice.  The aioli was perfect.  That's when I made the fateful mistake of adding the salt and pepper.  

The flecks of bright red pepper made me gasp.  While she has no problem with black pepper, our hostess is allergic to cayenne, and all red peppers.  The Agatha Christie book of etiquette lists poisoning the hostess as one of the top five things not to do at a luncheon.  So, I started all over again!

The leeks and aioli made it out to the suburbs, where they shared an amazing buffet table with grilled asparagus and tomatoes, vegan pate, ham and cream cheese pinwheels, cream cheese and bacon spread on French bread, curried cauliflower and raisin salad, spanakopita, crab cakes, skewered scallops and bacon, scalloped potatoes, sweet and sour mini meatballs and Chinese fried rice, a cheese platter, baked brie with balsamic vinegar, soda bread, almond cake, apple cobbler and chocolate rum balls.

We talked and laughed for six hours!  We brought a trunk load of memories and new stories.  Like a nautical braid, our lives are woven together.  We feel anchored here, in home port.

    

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.  

Widow's Endorphins: The Birds and the B's

Widow's Endorphins: The Birds and the B's: What a beautiful ending to a glorious first day of 2020 in Vancouver!  Westcoast sunsets are spectacular!  The intensity of the coral ...

The Birds and the B's

What a beautiful ending to a glorious first day of 2020 in Vancouver!  Westcoast sunsets are spectacular!  The intensity of the coral pink in the evening sky took my breath away.  The sunset reflecting on the water was almost supernatural.  It truly is as the tourism slogan says, "Super.  Natural.  British Columbia."

Earlier in the day, I took a long walk along Vancouver's False Creek seawall, celebrating the new year, and the new decade.  The difficult teen years are over, and we're in the twenties now.  There's promise in the air!

The birds and b's were everywhere!  Bicycles, backpacks, benches, boats - all the b's jostling for space along the seawall. 

There were black birds in bare branches.  Seagulls bobbing in the deep blue water, made room for more gulls swooping down to join them.  The seagulls calling from the water's edge, could barely be heard over the throaty caws of the black crows in the tree branches overhead.  An artist has created folk art birdhouses.

 

So much for birds, let's talk about the b's.  B is for bike paths.  One quickly learns that the seawall is divided into two paths.  One side of the painted white line is for pedestrians, the other, for bicyclists.  Boys with backpacks, and mothers with baby buggies, kept to their side of the walkway, to allow couples on bicycles to pedal past on the other side of the dividing line.  Even as the afternoon crowd grew larger, the dividing line was never crossed.

As I walked along the path, I overheard pieces of conversations, and observed the little vignettes of life.  A young mother, carrying her toddler spread-eagle across her hip, ran down an embankment laughing as she cried, "fly like a bird!"  The little one raised her arms, as if to soar.  A bride-to-be and her friend were discussing the merits of her fiancees guest list, which to her relief, included most of their mutual friends.  An elderly Asian man squinted in the sunlight to see the dragon boats his son was pointing out to him.   

B is for buildings.  The False Creek of my childhood was an industrial area, often shrouded in thick fog.  From the Cambie Bridge, one could still see Sweeney's Cooperage, an old barrel making business, long since replaced by condos and parkettes.  Expo '86 and years later, the 2010 Winter Olympics changed the landscape of False Creek.  Prior to 1986, only the far West side of the water was developed.  Afterwards, development spread Eastward to where Science World, and the Olympic Village condos are located.  There's new development along the entire stretch of False Creek.

B is for boats.  I have a thing for boats.  Big yachts, little tug boats, sailboats, dragonboats, the Aquabus which takes people over the Granville Island Public Market and the West End - I could watch them for hours!  The freighters and cruise ships can't get into the creek, so they stay further West in English Bay, or on the other side of the city, in Burrard Inlet.

B is for beautiful beginning to the new year, and the new decade. 


Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.