I’ve wanted a KitchenAid stand mixer for a long time. Like, a really long time. But I could never *quite* justify the purchase… I talked myself out of buying one quite a few times — “it’s too big,” “it’s expensive,” and even, “Oh, I can just use my hand mixer…”

But finally, my good ol’ Betty Crocker hand mixer bit the bullet (only one beater spins, now, and it makes an odd sound). The Bay was having a great sale on the Artisan mixer the other day, and I *almost* bought one, except they didn’t have the colour I liked in stock. I also learned from a good friend and fellow cupcake baker, Lindsey, that the KitchenAid Artisan model actually has plastic gears, so it isn’t as sturdy, shall we say, if you want to make doughs.

After a bit more research, I also discovered that the Professional model has a more heavy-duty engine. Also, Costco sells a model for $380. Sold.

Welcome to the family:

Hello there, beautiful! No more handmixing for me!

The first project I tested it out on was frosting for these delectable Earl Grey cupcakes I made…

Fill them 2/3 of the way

Bake for 18 minutes or so… (until they spring back when touched)

I changed the icing recipe a bit, adding in a citrus twist with some lemon zest (to enhance the bergamot flavour of the Earl Grey tea)… And I put the new mixer to work!

Putting it to work!

As you can see, I still managed to get icing sugar all over the place (I have a real knack for making a mess in the kitchen). But it was a hell of a lot easier on my poor arms!!

I finished them up just in time for dinner (perfect timing).

A frosted cupcake!

This could only be a good sign.

I returned later that day, when the office lunch crowd had dispersed, and saw what all the fuss was about:

Cupcakes.

Yeah, yeah… they were super trendy like 5 years ago. I don’t care. They’re still adorable. And more importantly, delicious.

From a quick visit to their website, it seems that there are only 2 locations of this lovely little bakery, both in Toronto. I think they should open one in Nova Scotia (specifically, about a block away from my office…) They’re committed to using high-quality ingredients, as well, which I admire:

At Prairie Girl Bakery, we have several fundamental beliefs about baking:

• We believe that any type of “mix”, vegetable shortening, “trans fat”, lard, preservatives, artificial flavors and bright food dyes have no place in a knock-your-socks-off cupcake;

• We believe in daily quality control, both in the kitchen and in the front of the stores, with the goal of baking up and serving the perfect cupcake each and every time; and

• We believe in never selling our customers “day old” cupcakes. When we have any delicious Prairie Girl cupcakes on our shelves as we close up the store, we give them to our friends at Toronto’s Second Harvest, a charitable organization with a common sense approach to hunger.

It’s even clear that a lot of thought has gone into their packaging. They have nifty, custom cupcake boxes that keep your baked goods safely stored upright during transport (no squished icing here, my friends):

It was a truly tasty Toronto treat.

But Pinterest recipes/projects can go horribly wrong. As evidenced by this hilarious post on Buzzfeed: http://www.buzzfeed.com/newu1085/17-pinterest-fails-654m (check it out: it’s worth it).

As you can see, Pinterest recipes can go very, very wrong.

Last weekend, I had a few friends over for a potluck/ladies night, and decided to attempt this dish dubbed cookie dough dip: http://addapinch.com/cooking/2011/10/14/cookie-dough-dip-recipe/

Seriously.. how good does that look?

It’s not exactly good FOR you.. but it tastes good! It’s also really easy to make. See? Not a Pinterest fail:

Here’s what you need to make it:

• 1 8-ounce package of cream cheese (use the normal kid; low-fat might change the texture)
• ½ cup butter (I used a bit less)
• 1 cup icing sugar
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla
• 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 package toffee bits

Cream together the cream cheese, butter and icing sugar. Then, add in the brown sugar and vanilla until the texture is smooth. Finally, add in the chocolate chips and toffee bits and combine well. Serve with slices of apples and thin chocolate biscuits, or graham crackers.

My sweet tooth isn’t as strong as hers (fortunately), but I do love the odd cookie, square or slice of cake.

Most Christmases, I organize a cookie exchange with coworkers or friends… This year, I’ve been lazy and decided just to bake whatever the hell I feel like, and give the treats away as little homemade gifts.

The difficult part was deciding WHAT to bake. So, I turned to my “cookie Bible”:

This special issue of Better Homes & Gardens’ cookie guide has served as my go-to guide for baked treats since 2009, when it arrived in Whistler as part of a care package from my mom. It’s pretty awesome: it features lots of kind of unusual twists on traditional favourites (like citrus shortbread). I’m always tempted to try a bunch and have to force myself to pick just a few to try out.

This year, I’ve decided to start out with their Candy Bar Squares:

These were really easy to make, and I didn’t even turn the kitchen into a disaster zone. I left them in the fridge to harden overnight, and plan to slice ‘em up later and package them for gift boxes (that is, if I can hide them from Kevin). I’ll post the recipe later tonight, in case you want to try making them, as well!

I also made my mom’s Peanut Butter Balls (disclaimer: I have no idea where she got this recipe, but she has been making them since I was wee, so they are, in my mind, my mom’s. Straight up.) For anyone who doesn’t know what a peanut butter ball is, I pity you. I truly do. I also insist that you try making them. You won’t regret it (well, your cholesterol levels may… but YOU won’t). They are SO good that I once almost killed my brothers’ friend, who has a peanut allergy, with them at a Christmas party years ago, because HE. ATE. THREE! True story. They’re THAT good:

I also whipped up a batch of melt-in-your-mouth mini shortbreads, topped with a candycane sugar:

Also on my baking plan: Espresso brownies, a rum cake, and a mamma-jamma gingerbread house (which I plan to enter into Movita Beaucoup’s epic Ginger 2012 bake-off: stay tuned for more on this baking foray, which will likely be a highly-entertaining disaster).

Okay, back to the kitchen I go! xo

A few weeks back, we had a chance to check out the new lounge/restaurant that just opened on Barrington Street. We attended the grand opening of Tempo Food + Drink, sampled a couple of their killer cocktails, and shared a decadent bacon maple cupcake (seriously).

But the place was hoppin’, and we couldn’t seem to snag any of the appetizers that were being served throughout the room. I read over the menu during that visit, and wistfully remarked via blog post that we would have to come back and try and food. Someone out there in the Twitterverse was listening, and we were actually invited back as guests to try their new menu (lucky us!)

So, on Friday night, we battled the Mooseheads home-game traffic and headed down to Barrington Street, parked and trudged up to the restaurant. Rookie mistake: Turns out, Tempo actually offers their patrons complimentary two-hour underground parking (I think its just across the street, but you actually should ask management for more info). Still, it’s a nice perk, especially if you’re just stopping in for their “Tempo Tapas Tini Time” after work, between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m.

The restaurant was busy when we arrived, but we were quickly greeted by a friendly hostess, who ushered us to a table in the dining room.

It’s clear that a lot of thought has gone into the design of this space. It is modern and sophisticated, but still manages to be kinda funky, which is a tough feat to pull off, really. The lounge features huge mirrored walls, a bird mural, and a warm colour scheme, and soul/funk music is is piped through both the bar & dining area. Solid wood finishings are scattered throughout, which lends the space a warmer, more organic feel (and while the design is very cozy, I would recommend avoiding sitting too close to the hotel lobby, at the far end of the dining room, as there seems to be a bit of a draft coming in from the Delta). Once you nestle into your seat, you’ll notice a fair amount of thought has also gone into the menu.

Tempo shows great attention to detail in their design. Their branding is modern, and even their water glasses are unique.

The cocktail menu is rooted in the traditional, but the mixologists have put a bit of a Maritime, musical spin on things, giving each a theme and unique name… This time around, I tried the “Con-Brio” ($9):

The Con-Brio is sweet & refreshing: a combination of gin, Cointreau, Madeira, lime, demerara sugar, gingerale & mint.

Kev, as usual, stuck with beer:

Kev likes to keep things simple when it comes to cocktail hour…

To start, we opted to share an order of “Tempo Chips” with a side of garlic lime dip (which is normally just served on the bar side):

Tempo “chips” are actually crunchy, thick-cut potato slices served with a zippy garlic lime dip ($6).

It’s a generous serving, and is really perfect to share with a few friends over cocktails (it isn’t too garlicky, either, which is nice…)

We also shared the Seafood Box ($18), which is an inventive “Mini Main” from the dinner menu:

The Seafood Box contains pan-seared scallops served on a bed of charred corn puree, poached shrimp nestled in tzatziki, freshly-shucked local oysters, a jar of pickled
mussels, and a jalapeno salsa ($18)

I was impressed by the Asian-inspired plating and the thought that so clearly went into the presentation. The oysters were uber-fresh and lovely with a bit of the jalapeno salsa, the scallops seared to perfection, and I found myself mopping up the remnants of the buttery corn puree with Tempo chips. Also, I was initially a bit skeptical of the jar of mussels tucked away in the corner of the box, but was pleasantly surprised by the delicious ceviche-like citrus vinaigrette it contained. Kev and I both agreed this was our favourite part of the box. The one element I could have done without was the shrimp-tzatziki combination: I would have preferred an extra oyster, instead.

We agonized over selected our mains for a little while, but ultimately, we were both very pleased with what we picked. Kevin opted for their salmon ($26):

Tempo’s salmon main is oven-roasted and served with a fabulous goat cheese mashed potato, “horseradish snow,” delicate smears of leek & pear purée fondant, candied beets and parsnips ($26)

I, on the other hand, was drawn to the lamb offering ($27):

Tempo’s lamb main features succulent slices of grilled Oulton’s loin, peanuts, jalapeño-mint pico de gallo, a green coconut curry sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes, roasted corn,
and green beans ($27)

I managed to convince Kevin to swap a bite for a bite, so had a chance to sample the incredible, creamy potatoes, which were infused with the distinct ripe tartness of goats cheese: a unique foil for the salmon. Alas, he would not share his beets, so I can only imagine they tasted as good as they looked!

The lamb dish was an impressive take on a traditional flavour combination: rather than an old-school mint jelly served with lamb, the chef included a hint of mint in her pico de gallo, adding an element of both heat and sweet to the plate. The curry added yet another layer of “heat,” which was tempered by its own creaminess. And again, the plating was done to perfection.

After our mains, we were both too full to even share dessert (which really is saying something; we’re both suckers for sweets) and were quite happy with our first meal at Tempo.

That isn’t to say that the experience wasn’t without its hiccups. Let’s face it: Tempo just opened a few short weeks ago, and it takes any restaurant a while to work the kinks out (hell, there are restaurants that have been open for YEARS and still have terrible service, or so-so menus). Our drinks were a wee slow to arrive, and there was a long stretch where we sat and waited to order. But really, the atmosphere was so lovely that we honestly didn’t mind sitting and chatting while we waited. And the server, once she did arrive, was both professional and friendly.

Tempo offers up a bit of upbeat urban funk, without fuss, coupled with the flair of a fine dining menu. And that’s music to my ears.

** I am occasionally offered complimentary product samples and invited to restaurants to sample menus. If an offer is extended and I accept, a favourable review is in no way guaranteed. That’s just not how I roll. I’m also not a “food critic.” I’m not a papered chef, and therefore, am not comfortable critiquing the work of someone who has trained for years and probably prepared far more meals that I will ever eat. I do, however, write about my own dining experiences, and offer my thoughts on what I liked, and what I didn’t!

Scratch another one off the list! I *finally* made it to Chives! *waits for the crowd to stop cheering*

Okay, but seriously, I really was just waiting for an excuse to indulge in a nice meal there. I have heard only good things: local, seasonal, fresh fare. Simple dishes with a creative twist.

And according to their own website:

“We strive to offer an extraordinary casual dining experience for our guests, void only of pretense, and full of sincere Nova Scotian hospitality. We use seasonal ingredients and look to Nova Scotia first for our products, then to the Maritimes.”

I’m down with their food philosophy, and they’ve been in business in Halifax since December 2001 (I believe), which means they must be doing something right.

Nestled in a small, quirky space on Barrington Street (an old bank, evidenced by the remaining vault, that is now used as a wine cellar of sorts), the decor is warm and earthy, with driftwood sculpture, waterscape paintings, stained glass, salt crystal candle holders on each table, and low lighting. A lot of thought and care has gone into giving this dining room a rustic and elegant feel.

But to keep the atmosphere fun and lively, jazzy tunes were pumped into the dining room during our Friday night dinner, and people happily chattered away, while sipping cocktails and wine and savouring their meals.

While I was excited to finally visit Chives, I was also a bit sad about the occasion: my brother, Ben, was leaving for Alberta the next day. No, he’s not going off to work on the rigs. Rather, he’s chosen another ski town to call home for a season (I keep warning him that Banff is no Whistler…), and we wanted to celebrate his adventure by enjoying a nice meal as a fam.

I made reservations for 6:45 p.m., which seemed early enough that we wouldn’t be famished when we arrived, but also wouldn’t be borderline “early bird” diners. It’s a thin line to tread, my friends.

Our server was absolutely lovely: attentive, without being cloying, informed, and, most importantly, she had a sense of humour. There’s nothing worse than a fine dining restaurant with stuffy staff. Fer real. People wanna have fun when they eat out.

Brother Ben and I both ordered one of my favourite cocktails: the Dark ‘n Stormy (a highball cocktail concoction of ginger beer, cane sugar, dark or spiced rum and lime: sweet with a bit of zing). I love mine: simple, a wee bit sweet… But Ben commented that his tasted like iced tea. Meh. I noticed that he finished it, anyways! My one comment is rather finicky, but really, I’m not down with plastic swizzle sticks or swords for garnish. This place is pretty locavore-focused, and seems to use a lot of organic materials (cork menus, salt crystal candle holders, wood everything…). Why not use a more eco-friendly material, like sugar cane swizzle sticks? It would fit well with the decor and add a sophisticated, thoughtful touch to the cocktail menu, IMO. Just a suggestion!

Moms ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, and my darling, predictable Kevin ordered some domestic beer. *sigh* 

Since their focus is on seasonal and local fare, the menu isn’t huge, which I actually really like. Those of us who suffer from the dreaded Order Anxiety don’t have to agonize over our decisions, and there really is ample selection for any palate.

We whet our appetites with their airy buttermilk biscuits, served in a stamped paper bag and smeared with whipped butter and molasses. They are phenomenal: Not greasy, like many biscuits, but flavourful and almost flaky.

My mom doesn’t have a very large appetite, so she quickly decides to try their daily special appetizer as her meal (gotta hand it to her, she’s strategic: saving room for dessert). The special is a Snow Crab Bisque ($12.99), a rich and creamy soup punctuated with a crispy crab cake in the centre. She seemed to really enjoy it, confirming that it was, in fact, as sumptuous as it sounded.

Ben struggled with deciding, but ultimately settled on the Butter-Roasted Sea Trout and Grilled Scallops ($29.99). This dish features a smoked haddock potato cake, wilted greens, pickled beets and a roasted Valley corn sauce. Ben, normally a quick eater, savoured every bite, and carefully examined their plating before digging in (he has one year of culinary school under his belt, and a serious passion for anything edible).

(Note: I’m going to apologize at this point for the terrible photo quality. The lighting is dim, and I still have an iPhone 3GS, which doesn’t have a flash. Yep, you read that correctly. It is clearly time for an upgrade.)

I opted for the Lobster Crusted Haddock, because, well, it’s LOBSTER. CRUSTED. HADDOCK. *drool* The menu describes it as being served with a new garden vegetable hodge podge and lemon fennel salad, which kind of led me to believe that it would come with salad. Makes sense, no? Well, I was a wee bit sad when this arrived, sans salad/side:

It was a pretty small portion, and nary a crunchy bit of lemon fennel salad to be found, though perhaps it was buried beneath? Still, I didn’t detect any fennel or lemon in this dish… And though it was a small dish, they say that good things come in small packages (and they’re right: this had a  silky-smooth texture, loads of lobster bits, and smooth, sweet flavours). I cheerfully cleaned my plate:

Kevin, my domestic-beer-meat-and-potatoes fella, ordered just that. Meat & Potatoes (seriously, it’s a main course). A generous portion of PEI beef striploin, prepared medium-rare and nestled atop a  dijon potato puree, and served with mushroom & onion ketchup, candied field tomato, french onion gravy, and crispy potato frites, this dish was the star of the show, in my humble opinion (I even managed to sneak a piece of meat, when he wasn’t paying attention):

He was a happy man.

Somehow, when the dessert menus arrived, we just couldn’t say no.

Kevin and moms both ordered the Sugar Moon Maple Creme Brulee (I can’t believe I forgot to take a photo of that dish; it was so pretty…) I did, however, snag a bite. There were a definite maple flavour, but it wasn’t overpowering, and the top had been torched to thin-and-crunchy perfection. That ultimately combination of creamy-smooth-crunchy; you can’t beat it.

Ben isn’t really a sweet-eater, which is somewhat shocking, because I’m fairly certain that our mother’s bloodstream is at least 50% sugar. Anyways, even he was persuaded into trying a dessert. He selected the BumbleBerry Brioche Pudding, served with white chocolate & berry sauces, a chantilly whip and honey vanilla ice cream:

I, on the other hand, am a chocolate lover, through-and-through. So it wasn’t really a contest: Flourless chocolate torte with whip and cinnamon ice cream:

All said it was a lovely dining experience: good company and service, a special occasion, and a decadent assortment of dishes. Definitely not an every-day dinner, but a perfect spot for a bit of a splurge.

Six days in Montreal is simply not enough… Still, we made the most of our short stay, filling our bellies with oodles of Quebecois goodies.

We spent just one night at the Montreal Jazz Festival, taking in the sights and sounds as we sipped a beer (of course):

Beforehand, we indulged in a fabulous dinner on the 8th floor patio of Terrasse Place d’Armes:

Beautiful, right?! Our meal was also superb:

At just one page, the menu is surprisingly diverse (and en anglais, aussi!). After a few sips of my clear sangria (sparkling wine, peach schnapps, and plenty of fresh fruit), we decided to try their mini kobe burgers, BBQ duck confit wings, and Parmesan pita chips with hummus and baba ghanoush.

For our mains, we opted for the entree-sized kobe burger, topped with brie, bacon and a house-made ketchup; the filet mignon, cooked to medium-rare perfection and served with a tomato garlic salad and fresh fries; and the grilled albacore tuna, which was lightly seared, nestled on a bed of fennel puree and braised pink radishes, and accented with an artful smear of tobido mayonnaise.

The food was phenomenal; beautifully prepared and presented, perfectly seasoned and fresh. Coupled with the view and the company, I didn’t have a single complaint about the evening.

We spent a lot of time eating breakfast in Montreal. I don’t know if its a French thing, or just a Kevin thing, but we consumed a lot of eggs during our stay. The first place we went was an all-day breakfast joint called Eggspectations, and I loved it:

A hearty plate of smoked salmon eggs benny, fresh fruit, asparagus and toast, piled on a mountain of thinly-sliced roasted potatoes. I begrudgingly shared with Kevin, because I couldn’t polish the whole plate off by myself…

He, on the other hand, does not share breakfast.

We also at breakfast twice at a place called Kewi (sp?!). It was a solid breakfast spot, but I preferred Eggspectations, to be honest.

Another day, we went for “real” poutine (because apparently the poutine we eat in the rest of Canada isn’t the same). After sampling the authentic dish from Valentine’s, I must say, I noticed a major difference in the cheese: it has a sharper flavour, and isn’t as rubbery as the stuff that is in most poutine dishes:

Kevin even split a “steamer” with me (aka a steamed hot dog):

One of my favourite things about Montreal? You can buy wine & beer at the corner stores. Kevin had always told me you could, and I never *really* believed him… But what do you know?! It’s true!

Along rue Duluth, I stumbled across a real gem: Les Chocolats de Chloé. Stepping into the cool, mint-chocolate-scented air was like discovering a little corner of heaven – hand-crafted chocolates lined the shelves like tiny soldiers.

The chocolates sadly would not have survived a 30+ degree day in my purse, but I happily snagged a jar of salted caramel spread to enjoy later:

See?! Real specks of vanilla bean. Mmmmm…

I couldn’t resist bringing a little taste of Montreal home to Halifax, either: I toasted one of my amazing Brossard Bagels and spread each side with a thin layer of butter and caramel spread. Divine.

I love it when I eat (or drink) something, and am transported somewhere else.

I’m normally a latte drinker — volume matters, when it comes to caffeine, right? But the other day, while enjoying lunch with a friend at Epicurious Morsels in the Hydrostone, I decided to order a cappuccino. When this pretty little saucer landed on the table, I took a small sip and was immediately taken back to my travels in Italy, a collection of oh-too-short days when our daily diet consisted of nothing more than pizza, pastries and oodles of cappuccinos just like these.

Then, my cake arrived:

A velvety-smooth chocolate fudge-like concoction, the Boca Negra cake  (Spanish for “Black Mouth”) is amazingly rich. Definitely a dish for chocolate lovers. Served with a bourbon white chocolate sauce (that’s the little dollop at the top) and a wee strawberry, I savoured each and every sliver of this divine cake, letting each bite melt in my mouth.

I may even try to make it at home (that’s how you know I really love something).

And contrary to popular belief, French cuisine is not necessarily pretentious. Sure, less-adventurous eaters may be deterred by some of the dishes (hey, bone marrow and snails aren’t for everyone) but generally speaking, French food is all about quality, simple ingredients and comfort dishes, like French onion soup. Délicieux, non?

Well, my recent meal at Bistro Le Coq proved that French food doesn’t have to be fussy.

It was a rare sunny afternoon in downtown Halifax, and a friend and I were determined to find a prime patio where we could grab a bite to eat (I had the additional motives of, a) not wanting to end up at the Economy Shoe Shop or the Argyle, and b) wanting to tick another one of the restaurants off my 2012 to-do list).

So, we first strolled down to Pipa (which is also on my list), but not even the 1/2 price sangria could entice us to claim a seat on the bare patio. (Call me crazy, but I always worry a bit if there is literally no one seated on a bright and sunny patio)

We wandered back down towards Blowers Street, and checked out the menu posted at Bistro Le Coq. Classic steak tartare, charcuterie, and tuna tartare immediately caught my eye, but it was the moules à la Normande et frites that truly sealed the deal.

We snagged a sunny spot, and waited. After a few minutes, our dapper server appeared table-side with a bottle of water and menus. Parfait.

I didn’t go inside the restaurant during our visit (though I definitely plan a return trip), but they’ve done a good job at making their patio space stand out from the rest on Argyle. Fresh flowers, a white picket fence railing, tea towels as napkins and other special touches help to create a feeling of seclusion on what is usually a very public space.

I was pleasantly surprised by the depth of selection on their cocktail list. After perusing the drink menu for far longer than I usually do, I settled on the French 75, a classic, crisp combination of gin, Champagne and lemon juice. Tart and refreshing, with some bubbles thrown in for good measure, of course:

I was also torn over what to eat. There were just so many dishes that I suspected would be fabulous… but I eventually settled on the dish that had sealed the deal on restaurant selection: the moules à la Normande et frites (in plain English, mussels & fries). More specifically, these were steamed PEI mussels served with a luscious white wine, leek cream sauce, which was studded with applewood-smoked bacon, and served with a pot of duck fat fries ($11).

Oh. My. God.

It was love at first bite. I took my time extricating each and every plump mussel from its shell, and luxuriously swirling it in the sauce, alternating with a fry or two. Occasionally, I made a departure from this ritual, dipping a fry in the side of what I believe was a house-made truffle mayonnaise. Be still my heart.

Of course, you can’t forget the thin slices of buttery, toasted bread tucked along the side: perfect for sopping up the dregs of unbelievably creamy sauce.

My friend seemed equally satisfied with her choice, the crêpes du jour, which was, that day, an impressive creation filled with an assortment of veggies and swathed in Bechamel sauce.

Of course, I was so enamoured of my moules à la Normande et frites that I scarcely noticed what was on her plate. My bad.

This was a meal to remember, in my books: Sunshine, good company and cocktails, and unbelievable food. I will be back.

Like just about every other person in their mid to late 20′s that I know, I’m hardly a high roller (I’ve just dug myself out from a mountain of student debt and bought my first house…)

But I still love to eat well, and my former career as food columnist in a town like Whistler has truly spoiled me for life: There, I discovered the wonders of buttery fois gras, venison, spot prawns and other (pricey) gourmet delights. One such goodie, however, I was already well-acquainted with, thanks to my East Coast roots: lobster.

These creepy-looking crustaceans have always been a favourite dish of mine, though I still only usually had a chance to enjoy them a few times a year.

But every once in a while, a family friend (with a lobster license) will unexpectedly drop a few off at my parents’ house. It’s always such a treat to open the fridge door and find them there, just waiting to have their shells cracked open for their sweet meat (well, I’m editorializing a bit there: if they had a choice, I’m sure they would prefer not to be eaten).

*Ponders becoming a vegetarian for brief moment … then, back to reality*

Anyways, last week was one of those lovely occasions, and my mom generously sent me packing with two lobsters in tow (note: I am extremely spoiled).

Since the crustaceans were already cooked, all I had to do was wrestle their spiny shells open, pluck out the segments of meat, and, of course, figure out what to do with it.

I considered making some sort of lobster sandwich (or a lobster club sandwich, which I’m fairly sure would have blown Kevin-the-club-sandwich-lover’s mind), but then I remembered the steaks sitting in the fridge: SURF & TURF! Of course!

I set to work, marinating my steaks:

Then, I got started on the lobsters, taking great care not to mangle my fingers on the spiny shells:

That is one serious chunk of lobster meat, my friends. It took a huge amount of restraint to not gobble this up. Seriously.

Now that the meat was out of the shells, I had to figure out what I wanted to do with it… I decided, since it was already cooked, but cold, that I’d pull the tail meat out of the shells and stuff them with a bit of butter, salt and lemon. Then, I shoved ‘em back into their tail shells, wrapped them up in foil and threw them on the grill for just a few minutes, to warm them up and melt the butter. I prepared the little legs in much the same way, even though they’re kind of a pain to eat…

The meat from the claws I chopped up and set aside. Then, I melted a bit of butter in my frying pan (which has been inexplicably scratched):

Threw in a few capers:

And fried them up until they were crispy and brown. Then, I tossed in the lobster meat and briefly cooked it (but not for long; lobster meat can turn rubbery very easily):

The meat took on a nice, rich colour, and the capers and butter added a bit of saltiness and zip to the dish.

Then, I made up a simple Caesar salad:

I threw the steaks on the BBQ and cooked them to medium-rare, plated the salad and topped it with my lobster concoction: