Tag: Nigella Lawson

trees, nature, winter, landscape, rural

… And To All A Good Night (2024) !

This year in classical music and opera saw a lot of hype, a bit of hope, dribbles of desperation and ample ambition. With snow melting out the window and the world both quiet and loud in the post-Christmas, pre-New-Year rush, now seems as good a time as ever to remember, reflect, and of course, to read.

Some of you know this website formally began in 2017 to platform long-form conversations, the kind of thing I felt was missing (and still feel is missing) from mainstream classical music coverage. Fast forward seven years and many conversations later, and there seems to be even more reason for The Opera Queen‘s continued existence than ever. No, I am not x-y-z mainstream outlet; there’s value in being an outsider and to the readership that attracts. This site does not do album reviews, sometimes does live reviews, occasionally offers essays and features on non-classical things – those elements will continue – but mostly it specializes in talking. (Those of you who have met me in real life might not be surprised.) As author Catherine Blyth wrote in her 2009 book The Art of Conversation, “More than words, conversation is music: Its harmony, rhythm and flow transcend communication, flexing mind and heart, tuning us for companionship” – and hopefully a bit of inspiration too.

The paucity of those conversations at The Opera Queen over the last little while is owed chiefly to demands of my day job teaching in a Media and Communications department at a Canadian university, a position that tends to hoover up time, energy, resources. Most Friday nights over past four months found me unable to do little more than Netflix-and-chill (or in my case, 20/20-and-sushi). Rest assured, there are more interviews in store – and more music/theatre/media writing too; some interview chases have been in the works for several months now, and I hope to share the fruits of those efforts soon, and see far more live work, when and if resources allow for such experiences. Let us hope. Nothing brings me alive quite the way live opera does, or can, or ever will – except of course talking with the people who actually do it.

For now, I am staying put and thinking back on the many excellent exchanges published at this website over this past year – conversations with people like Brad Cohen, the General Director of New Zealand Opera; conductors Hannu Lintu and Louis Langree; director Renaud Doucet and designer André Barbe. I also spoke with Cambridge Professor David Trippett about editing Wagner In Context (the c-word!), bass Brindley Sherratt about his (overdue, brilliant) album of songs; baritone Ludovic Tézier backstage at Opera Bastille. For these, and for all the others, I am wholly grateful. I am equally filled with thanks for my readership, and their enthusiasm, passion, and continuing commitment, both to my work here, and to the art forms we all cherish. From my heart: merci beaucoup, vielen dank, mille grazie!

A late-December reading list amidst the snow and cold of the Northern hemisphere seems like a good thing, along with two recipes. Enjoy, and may we all find a little bit of quiet, and a little bit of peace, this holiday season.

Berlin Woes

Recent cuts to the budgets of Berlin’s arts institutions have polarized opinions; while cultural leaders repeatedly underlined (in public and before performances) the centrality of arts institutions to both the economy and a broader national identity, Berlin’s Mayor, Kai Wegner, stated that prices for classical events should be raised and that it isn’t right how, in his view, ‘the shop assistant in the supermarket, who probably rarely goes to the State Opera, uses her tax money to subsidise all these tickets.” / „dass die Verkäuferin im Supermarkt, die wahrscheinlich eher selten in die Staatsoper geht, mit ihrem Steuergeld diese Eintrittskarten allesamt mitsubventioniert.” (“Kai Wegner gibt Mentalitätstipps“, TAZ, Rainer Rutz, 1 December 2024) Wegner also implied support for a more North American-style system with far less government dependency by arts organizations and far more in terms of commercial programming.

German daily TAZ took Wegner at his word and asked cashiers in Berlin about opera and ticket prices. What did they say? Well, you’ll never guess. (“Gehen Kassiererinnen in die Oper?“, TAZ, Katja Kollman, 6 December 2024)

Scores & Violins

Just what do orchestra librarians do, and how does their work differ from that of other librarians? San Francisco Classical Voice has a wonderful feature on the under-appreciated position which hosts insights from San Francisco Opera Orchestra librarian Carrie Weick, Oakland Symphony / Marin Symphony / Monterey Symphony / California Symphony librarian and musician Drew Ford, and San Francisco Symphony’s principal orchestra librarian Margo Kieser, who says her past work as a musician, especially transposing scores for singers, was definitely helpful. The feature also explores the ins and outs of critical editions, how the job has changed, working with concertmasters, and interactions with various music figures past and present, including Jesús López Cobos, Sir Mark Elder and John Adams. (“The Scorekeepers: Orchestra Librarians and Their Work“, San Francisco Classical Voice, Lisa Hirsch, 4 December 2024)

Keeping in the realm of education: various residents of the rural Scottish island of Great Cumbrae have been learning how to play the violin and viola for free on instruments loaned by local organizations. The adult learning initiative is part of a PhD project on community music led by violist/educator Arianna Ranieri, who says participants have been “turning up every week with a hunger to learn– and have even begun have jam and practice sessions outside of the Saturday classes– it is a teacher and researcher’s dream, and shows how important it is to have these opportunities for adults in rural areas.”  (“Free violin lessons enrich adult learners’ lives in rural Scotland”, The Strad, 5 December 2024)

Still with strings: Following the sudden passing of György Pauk in mid-November, music writer Ariane Todes published pieces of her two conversations with the acclaimed violinist and teacher. Among the many nuggets therein are Pauk’s insights into technique (“The thumb should always be a little bent”), the role of singing  (“Timing comes from breathing, which is why the best way to understand a phrase is to sing it.”), the importance of playing Bartók (“it’s helpful to be Hungarian but you don’t have to be”), teaching approach, practice habits, what the operas of Mozart offer, and much more. Pauk’s reminiscences on the “once-famous Hungarian violin school” and its approach are particularly touching. (“Interview with György Pauk“, Elbow Music, Ariane Todes, 19 November 2024).

Viennese Delights

January anywhere can be dreary, but January in Vienna seems a bit less daunting thanks to the city’s multiple cultural offerings, including some sunny-sounding operettas. Johann Strauss II’s Das Spitzentuch der Königin (The Queen’s Lace Handkerchief) will be presented at Theater An Der Wien, the very spot the work premiered in 1880, under the baton of its composer. The piece is a political parody with a thinly-disguised monarchy engaging in misadventures with the poet Cervantes, who derives inspiration for his real-life Don Quixote along the way. The work includes the famous “Rosen aus dem Suden” (Roses from the South) waltz. Königin previews on 5 January before its formal opening on 18 January, and runs through the end of the month.

Over at the Volksoper, Offenbach’s “science-fiction operetta” Die Reise zum Mond (A Trip To The Moon) is on now through 31 January. The work premiered in Paris at the Théâtre de la Gaîté in 1875 (as Le voyage dans la lune) and has its basis in Jules Verne’s 1865 novel From the Earth to the Moon. The Volksoper’s eye-catching production (by director Laurent Pelly) explores themes of climate change and youth empowerment; it opened in October 2023 to raves, and features members of the company’s children and youth choirs performing in multiple roles. Also at the Volksoper is Im weißen Rössl (The White Horse Inn), by Ralph Benatzky along with multiple collaborators, both musical and text-based. Based on a highly popular play by Berlin theatre artist Oscar Blumenthal,  the work revolves around a waiter’s longing for his boss at a busy summer resort; the Volksoper’s production (by director Jan Philipp Gloger) explores the perils of tourism. Rössl opened earlier this month and runs to the end of January.

Along with operetta, uplift arrives via Philharmonix, who will be giving a concert at the Konzerthaus on 14 January mischievously titled “Guilty Pleasures“. A collective composed of members of both the Vienna and Berlin Philharmonic Orchestras, their fun, zesty mix of classical, jazz, and lyrical works that evoke the city’s illustrious coffeehouse culture, especially during the Belle Époque. The January date is the second in a series of three Vienna appearances the group are making throughout the season; their next appearance in the city is set for April.

Just as fun: Prokofiev’s Peter And The Wolf is set for a series of performances, in a staging by Martin Schläpfer,  ballet director and chief choreographer of the Wiener Staatsballett, and featuring youth members of said ballet corps. The production joins a long history of Peter presentations, one that has included recordings, orchestral performances, and animation, including a clever 2023 retelling narrated by Irish artist Gavin Friday and animation by Bono released last December. The Wiener Staatsoper presentation with its young dance corps happens at Wiener Staatsoper’s new NEST facility (aimed at junior audiences), and runs from the end of January through to 9 February.

Sound Of The Season

‘Tis the season of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, hurrah! First performed in Leipzig between Christmas Day 1734 and 6 January 1735, Bach had actually composed the gorgeous six-cantata oratorio (made up largely of much parody, or repurposed, music) a decade earlier. Among the many performances to be found online, those done by Netherlands Bach Society caught my attention; the Dutch group released a fascinating introduction to the work last year, and more recently shared videos of the first three cantatas of the oratorio, all with English subtitles. Once you know the words to the chorales, you cannot help but sing along, but just in case you need some pointers, here’s the full text (with English translations), courtesy of the Bach Cantatas website. Jauchzet, frohlocket!

Musical keys have personalities (or so goes the thinking) and Bach’s Oratorio is centered around the key of D Major (“the key of Hallelujahs“) – so what’s your personal key? What does it say about you? Find out with this fun little quiz, courtesy of Van Musik. (“Tonart-O-Mat“, Arno Lücker, 27 November 2024) Mine is apparently D-flat major, the key of Debussy’s “Claire de Lune” (and, apparently, “eine wunderbare, hochromantische Tonart!” 😀 ).

Yum

cake, baking, homemade, bundt, Christmas, festive

Nigella Lawson’s eggy vanilla cake, chez moi. Photo: mine. Please do not reproduce without written permission.

Once a prolific holiday baker, I am now a confirmed rarely-ever baker, but for pizza and the occasional loaf of hearty bread; one recent cold day I found myself hankering, not for sweets but for process, texture, aroma. The sensual aspects of baking, together with its demand for patience and respect for step-taking, made for a lovely late-afternoon pursuit and a rather nice result. (“Spruced-Up Vanilla Cake“, Nigella Christmas, 2008). I don’t have Nigella Lawson’s fancy Christmas tin, but my trusty bundt pan did nicely. Also: don’t fret if you don’t have (enough) yogurt; a bit of vinegar dropped into heavy cream (and left to sit for twenty-ish minutes) does the trick.

This year’s Chanukkah happened to fall on 25 December, but as I had the cake (above) I decided against making homemade doughnut or latkes, the latter being something I once produced in copious quantities using Lawson’s recipe from her 2004 book Feast as a guide. This recipe for Kartoffelpuffer, which uses flour in place of the more traditional matzo meal (which I would still use), is easy, and… mmm, lecker:

New Year’s Eve may well be a Fledermaus affair, enjoyed with a bit of smoked fish, some salad olivye, pickles, pelmeni, and a glass of bubbles. Until then: thank you, dear readers, for your continued support and trust, and here’s to more talks, thoughts, and life-giving performances in 2025!

Go Eat

I’ve gotten away from food writing, among other things, the last few years. There’s no real reason for this (other than dramatic life events, I suppose) — my love of cooking remains unabated, and I do it several times a week, more than usual the last while, as I stock up my freezer with portion-sized things in anticipation of a busy time.

However, sometimes I don’t crave anything hearty so much as fresh, light, tasty. I love my salads, but virulent IBS doesn’t make it possible to enjoy salads as much as I’d like. It’s only been through trial and error I’ve discovered what my body will and won’t accept: Boston lettuce, yes; kale-anything, no. Based on some tasty recent experiences at a favorite restaurant, I started experimenting with basic ingredients, ones I knew wouldn’t upset me, but would still satisfy my hunger for crunchy, tasty, light… and easy. It may come as a shock to some, but working from home doesn’t automatically mean that nothing is hard, tiring (even exhausting), or draining — quite the opposite, particularly if one happens to live alone.

Regardless of work environment and family status, the last thing one may wish to do at the end of a busy, full day is cook up a large, heavy meal, especially at the end of a winter season that’s already been filled with many meals of that nature. Some very basic washing, blotting, chopping (similar to Nigella Lawson describing stirring as “soothing,” I find chopping has a similar effect on me), and then light mixing, is the best kind of therapy I can think of, not to mention incredibly nourishing.

I’ve been heartened the last little while by the reaction I received to my first “light dinner” experiment; when I posted a photo of my creation on Instagram, the reaction was pleasingly enthusiastic. Tonight I decided to make a follow-up, using a few ingredients I wish I’d originally had, and usually always do have on-hand. I think we all have our basics we like to have at hand — in our pantries, refrigerators, sitting on the counter or breadboard, waiting to be used. My basics (as you’ll see listed below) include flat parsley (also called Italian parsley), cannellini (a white kidney, but smaller), plum tomatoes, roasted red peppers (else a chopped, marinated peppers), feta cheese, kalamata olives, sometimes sun-dried tomatoes, and more often than not lately, radicchio (because I can digest it without trouble; because it keeps for a while; and because it is tasty). These ingredients are in addition to very good olive oil and white balsamic, both of which I always have at hand. I use almost all the ingredients in the recipe below — but if you want to use everything, go for it; feel free to throw in some marinated artichoke hearts, pieces of cooked, chopped chicken breast, and/or snips of curly endive and/or fresh dill, too.

Of course, this should be enjoyed with crusty baguette that has been warmed up quick in the oven.

Photo: mine. Please do not use without permission.

Radicchio Dinner Salad

1/2 head of radicchio
1/2 bunch flat parsley
1 plum tomato
1 whole roasted pepper OR 2-3 spoons of chopped peppers from the jar
1 400g/398ml/14 fl oz tin of cannellini, rinsed and drained
8-10 kalamata olives, pitted
1 double-thumb-sized chunk of feta (optional)
6-8 sun-dried tomatoes (optional)
extra-virgin olive oil
white balsamic
fresh pepper
salt

Thinly slice radicchio lengthwise, then roughly chop. You’re aiming for luxurious, longish purple shards. Place in a large salad bowl.

Rinse parsley and roughly chop. Shake excess moisture off. Wrap in a towel to blot water.
Do the same with the cannellini; after rinsing and draining, wrap them in a towel (paper or cloth; either is fine) to absorb the excess moisture. This step is very important, both for flavour, and for the texture of your salad.

Chop plum tomato, keeping mind to discard the seeds before placing in bowl with radicchio. (Again, this affects not only the flavour, but the texture, and if, like me, you have a hard time digesting them, it’s a favour to your body.)

Roughly chop roasted pepper, or measure 2-3 generous spoons of chopped pepper from the jar. Throw it on top of your radicchio. Don’t worry if you get a bit (just a bit!) of the oil from the marinade in there; that gives flavour.

Roughly chop kalamata olives and throw in the bowl.
Same with sun-dried tomatoes, if using, and feta, which you can roughly chop, or crumble with your fingers straight into the bowl.

Retrieve the towel-blotted parsley, then cannellini, adding both to the bowl.

Add a small glug of olive oil, and a sprinkling of olive oil; grind in pepper and salt as you wish.

Toss.

Enjoy (especially with crusty baguette).

Store unused portions in airtight (preferably glass) container.

Easy, delicious, healthy; now wasn’t that easy?

Lovely Lawson

 

A new Nigella Lawson book is always cause for celebration in my world.

With plenty of know-how, an approachable style, and a playful spirit, Lawson’s work is an automatic go-to when I’m running low on ideas and inspiration. Her other works, like How To Eat, Feast, Forever Summer, Nigella Christmas, and Nigella Express are chalk-full of yummy, smart, and mainly easy dishes. Her basic pizza recipe from How To Be A Domestic Goddess is a staple in my kitchen, and it isn’t too much of an exaggeration to state that How To Eat was life-changing.

Sure, Nigella is a food goddess -much ink (and drool) has been spilled chronicling that aspect of her -but she’s also a seriously good writer. Without a trace of smarmy know-it-all-ness but with oodles of honesty, Nigella’s been chronicling what goes on in her kitchen now for almost two decades. It helps that she used to be a journalist; it’s equally helpful that she throws in plenty of personal references to keeping her children, friends, and work colleagues nourished. With a slew of titles and television shows under her belt, she strikes me as something like a super-elegant, knowledgable, refreshingly un-hipsterish, print-loving version of a food blogger. With great power -and beauty, and culinary skills -comes great responsibility, and Nigella ably, amply fulfills the requirements for being a wily, wonderful kitchen-witch.
Unlike her last book, a holiday/Christmas book from 2008, her latest, Kitchen: Recipes From The Heart Of The Home (Knopf), offers a cross-section, multi-seasonal approach, with a firm focus on the basics and homey favorites. Within the pages of the 400+ page hardcover tome, you’ll find clear directions, easy-to-understand terms, as well as a thorough Express Index. The book is handily divided into two sectons: “Kitchen Quandaries” and “Kitchen Comforts”. Each section contains chapters like “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”, “The solace of stirring” and, happily, “Chicken and its place in my home”. Nigella has never made a secret of her love of a simple roast chicken throughout her work, and indeed, I still use her basic recipe from How To Eat as the basis of my own: start with a good organic bird, stick half a lemon up the bottom, “annoint” (her word) with butter and olive oil, stick in the oven. Easy-peasy.
So it’s nice to see her acknowledge her love of poultry, and to introduce fresh new ideas that are, as ever, Nigella’s signature blend of yummy and easy. As she writes in the chapter introduction, “for me, a chicken remains the basic unit of home. I don’t really feel a kitchen is mine until I’ve cooked a chicken there.” I can’t agree more. Dining out last week in New York, I struck up a conversation with a restaurant manager one night about our shared love of food; he asked me about my own specialty in the kitchen, and answered, after a momentary shyness, “roast chicken.” There’s something undeniably wonderful about its scent filling the house, the yummy drippings, the moist meat, and the luscious leftovers. Equally, it’s nice to see these easy, warming recipes; Thai Chicken Noodle Soup, Poached Chicken With Lardons & Lentils, and Chinatown Chicken Salad are all delicious, easy, and yes, inexpensive. I defy anyone who swears they can’t cook to try Nigella’s Quick Chicken Caesar recipe. I suspect, like much of Kitchen itself, that she wrote it just for them.
The introduction also features a fantastic section called “Kitchen Confidential”, which outlines all the tips, tools, and tricks for home cooks of all abilities. She details the usefulness of having boiling water handy, the benefits of buttermilk in cooking, the uses of baking soda, when and how to freeze stock, and her love of having a myriad of bottles (like vermouth, marsala and garlic-infused oil) around her stovetop. She also doles out an important piece of advice for home cooks of all levels:

This is so much easier to say than to do, but try, when you’re cooking for people, not to apologize nervously for what you’ve made, alerting them to some failure only you might be aware of, or indeed, might have invented. Besides, it only creates tension ,and although I do believe food is important, atmosphere matters so much more.

Atmosphere, and I would argue, confidence. Kitchen: Recipes From The Heart Of The Home is a tool to provide you with just that when you approach any culinary -or indeed, sensual -endeavor. You can make something, and do well, and enjoy it, with others, or just by yourself. And why wouldn’t you? Go forth. Cook. Eat. Live. Be happy. So says Nigella… and it’s gorgeously, delicious true.

Damn Good Dinner

Few things inspire me like a person new to the culinary world; it implies both a healthy curiosity and a concern for healthy eating. Anything homemade is always going to beat microwaved Frankenfood. So a recent note from a fellow Twitterati/ journalist felt like a call to inspiration, the way I painter is drawn to canvas or a musician to their instrument. Sharing food ideas and any help is my passion, because I love to cook.

I sent this fellow journalist a response, included a link to my last recipe posted (a hit with busy moms), as well as helpful book suggestions (listed below). I also promised myself I would starting posting recipes more often.

As it happens, I had a very hectic day: two blog posts, several phone calls, emails, a doctor’s appointment, and some running around. I wanted something fairly easy and effort-free, if also homey, flavoursome, and healthy. Ergo, meet my Oven-Roasted Herb-Garlic Chicken Breasts.

Prep time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 30-40 minutes

You will need:

4 chicken breasts, skin and bone on
2 tbsp butter
2 tbsp olive oil
2-3 garlic cloves
1 sprig rosemary
1-2 tsps dried oregano
1/2 lemon
1 tsp sea salt

Pre-heat oven to 425F (use the convection setting if you have it, otherwise set at 450F).

Pour 1 tbsp of the olive oil into a large broad oven dish; you can use a large glass one or a nice square roaster, but keep it shallow, and make sure the breasts fit snugly together.

With clean hands, anoint the fresh chicken breasts with the butter; Nigella Lawson has a wonderful expression (from her basic roast chicken recipe) of spreading the butter around “like a very expensive handcream” -which is apt. Make sure every little bit of the chicken breasts are lubricated. Place in the oven dish, making sure pieces are snug but not busting.

Wash and dry your hands, and then carefully pick the needles from the rosemary sprig. Discard the stalk. Using a very sharp knife, finely chop the needles, and sprinkle them evenly on the tops of the breasts.

Follow this with the oregano (again, use your fingers to sprinkle -much nicer distribution that way). Pour the other tbsp (or so) of olive oil on top.

Take your garlic cloves and peel, then half them. Place the flat part of your knife on top of them, and give a few good pounds, so you’re crushing the cut cloves (you may need to do this in stages, doing a few garlic pieces at a time -which is perfectly fine). You’ll find nice flat pieces of fragrant crushed garlic to scatter on top of the chicken breasts.

Take the half a lemon, cut it again in half, and slice into very thin pieces; scatter on top of the breasts. Sprinkle the sea salt on top (again, use your fingers) and drape a piece of tin foil on top, then pop the dish into your hot oven.

(You can use this time to throw a salad together, if you wish; a basic cucumber/tomato/mixed greens is good with a light dressing. I also happened to have some roasted potatoes already made, so I popped those into an earthenware dish, gave a glug of oil, a grind of pepper, and threw into the same oven for the chicken’s last 10 minutes.)

After 15 minutes, remove the chicken, and take off the foil. Things will be sizzling and fizzling, so mind you don’t stand too close or poke your nose in to inhale the fragrant, herb-garlic aroma.

Using a baster or a spoon, spread all those lovely chickeny/buttery/olive oily juices over the breasts a few times, then whack back in the oven for another 10 minutes or so with the foil off.

Poke a breast (pun unintentional) with a sharp knife after the ten minutes is up; the meat should feel solid, and the juices run clear. Take the chicken out (again, mind the sizzle), baste one more time, and whack back in for 5 to 7 minutes.

For a nice burnished top, turn the broiler on medium-high heat and leave the chicken breasts in (without moving the oven rack) for about 3 or 4 minutes after this (keep watch). The lemon slices and crushed garlic might be singed and blackened at their edges; this is perfectly fine.

Remove and… voila. Enjoy. Serve with salad and, if you like, starch of your choice.

Oh, and those book suggestions: I recommend these for both newcomers and seasoned home cooks, for the breadth of their ideas, accomplishment of their respective authors, and overall ease. They are:

To this I would only add one other book: How To Eat, (Random House, 1998) by Nigella Lawson, which provided inspiration for this recipe in the first place.

All of these titles are perffect for the cook who’s harried, hurried, and not entirely familiar with the culinary arts. Bon appetit!

Woman. Hungry.

As I tucked into my quickly-thrown-together past earlier tonight, the thought occurred that it was perhaps a bit late to be digging into such a rich dish. 10:30pm? Yikes.

“Have to hit the gym tomorrow,” I thought, with more than a hint of anxiety.

While I am a big promoter (and lover) of physical activity, I can’t deny that a larger thought overtook the guilt-tinged one: damn it, I’m hungry. I had a long, stressful day, it’s cold out, and damn, I was really hungry. Women are often, I feel, given the nth degree of guilt when it comes to our relationship with food. It’s as if we’re only meant to eat salad, fruit, and tuna, and never revel in the hugely enjoyable delight that comes with gastronomy. “Stay thin!” every media image shouts, “body fat is disgusting!” It’s as if I have choose: a great body, or fulfilling my appetite. How unfair.

Thus, it follows that a large part of my attraction to Nigella Lawson is her turning away from this guilt over all things food-related, and freely, sensuously celebrating indulgence in the acts of cooking and eating. I still sometimes think that, despite my truly admiring her bringing in a decidedly European approach, we’re too far too youth-and-skinny obsessed (especially in North America) to truly heed her message. She isn’t arguing for gluttony -but nor is she arguing for poe-faced self-denial. She’s arguing for rich, luscious womanhood, something I’m still not sure North America can wrap its size-0-youth-obsessed heads around.

And so it was that I found myself greedily spooning in mouthfuls of gorgeous, creamy, vegetable-laden pasta lastnight, amidst watching documentaries, writing future blogs, and organizing a myriad of projects. It hit the spot. I offer this handy stir-together recipe for all busy, harried women -and men -who want a good, nourishing meal after a long day. Pour yourself a glass of wine while you’re at it. Eat, and enjoy.

You’ll need:

roughly a handful of pasta (or two, if you want leftovers)
salt
olive oil
Noilly Prat (or other good white vermouth)
1/2 cup broccoli (baby is best)
1/2 red pepper
1/2 tomato (or 1 plum tomato)
1/4 red chili
a handful of spinach leaves
1/2 cup tomato sauce (passata, jarred, or creamy are all fine)
roughly 4 tbsp fresh-grated parmesan

Salt and boil water. Add pasta, stir, add more salt (I use coarse-cut sea salt, but use whatever you like).

As the pasta cooks, prep the vegetables. I’ve listed broccoli, red pepper, spinach, and chili, but you can also use carrot, zuccini, onion -whatever you have on-hand, but keep it varied, colourful, and flavourful.

Peel broccoli stems and discard the peels. Cut peeled stems on the diagonal in medium strips; judge florets accordingly. You want them to be bite-sized. Set aside. Roughly chop red pepper (again, keep pieces bite-sized -medium-ish, in other words). Set aside. Chop tomato and set aside. Wash and roughly dry spinach leaves. Remove stems. Chop roughly and set aside. Carefully slice chili pepper (it’s a good idea to wear gloves); if you don’t like things too spicy, discard the seeds. Set aside, making sure the chopped chilis don’t touch anything else.

Drain pasta once it’s cooked; 8-10 minutes should do the trick, depending on what type you use -I like penne or large shells for things involving sauces, but if you only have spaghetti or some other ribbon-like pasta, then leave out the tomato-based sauce (and indeed, chopped tomato) and go with butter and garlic instead.

Using the same pot you cooked the pasta in, heat up the olive oil. You’ll need just enough to coat the bottom of the pan. Turn down the heat to medium. Add chopped broccoli, and stir around to coat. Add a splash of Noilly Prat and clamp the lid on to steam lightly for 3-5 minutes. When broccoli is a bright green, add the red pepper and stir. The mixture might still be liquid -that’s okay. Add the chopped tomato and stir around. Clamp on the lid and allow to bubble merrily for about 2-3 minutes. Add the chilies and stir; let cook for about a minute.

Shake off excess water from the pasta and throw in, along with any tomato-based sauce you may be using. Stir. Add chopped spinach. Stir stir stir. The spinach might seem overwhelming for the pasta, but as it is heated with the rest of the mixture, it will quickly wilt down, leaving gorgeous green ribbons winding their way through the pot.

Gently grate the parmesan straight in. Stir gently and turn off the heat. I’ve given a measurement of 4 tbsp, but certainly, use as much (or as little) as you wish. You want the cheese essentially to draw things together. Grate more on top (if you wish) once it’s in your plate, in a mound of gorgeous tomato-y lusciousness.

Spoon in. Drink wine. Repeat.

And most of all: no guilt. You’re hungry. Period.

My Favourite Things

I don’t like lists. It’s the main reason I resist writing hoary old “Top Ten Shows of 2008” sorts of things. Unless a writer/artist experiences a heck of a lot of different things (not just theatre, but music, cinema, telly, & you know, life) they’re going to be creating from inside a navel-gazing bubble. So instead of doing a formal list of shows I liked in 2008, I’m going to provide a few favourite live moments from 2008, along with stuff I’m looking forward to in 2009. Call it the Ghosts of Good Stuff, Past & Future.

2008:

Festen / Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me: The Berkeley Street Theatre ended the year with a duo of powerhouse dramas in both its upstairs and downstairs spaces. Both about families of different sorts, the skillfully directed and acted works were punches to the gut, and stayed with me far past my exiting the theatre’s doors.

The Music Man / Moby Dick: The yin and yang of the Stratford Festival this past season. Both seeming-opposites, playing in the largest and smallest festival spaces respectively, and yet both had so much in common. I had to think for hours which one was actually more epic -the story of man vs. whale or man-in-a-small-town (on the surface anyway). Brilliantly directed, with charismatic leading men, the Festival made a brave, brilliant choice to have two such works playing at the same time.

Rachid Taha: The Algerian-French singer’s concert at the Phoenix in July was a mix of Arab, rock, pop, dance, punk, chaabi, and… everything else. In an interview last year, he quoted Frank Zappa in describing his music as couscous. No kidding. A sweaty good time, Taha and his 7-man band played for a riotous, celebratory two-plus hours. Not a word was in English, either. It didn’t matter. Brilliant.

The Williamson Playboys: Opening the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival with a host of other acts, the Playboys (played with ferocious playfulness by Doug Morency and Paul Bates) won over the crowd with their mix of gentle, fierce, silly and profound. I haven’t laughed so hard, for so long, in… too long. Lesson learned: you just haven’t lived until you’ve heard Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog played with just a ukelele and tuba.

Nigella Express / Nigella’s Christmas Kitchen: I know, I know. This isn’t technically a series, so much as it is a chance to ogle the British Domestic Goddess. But the tips are really practical (if you can pay enough attention) and the results are damn good. In this case, it is as easy as it looks. Honest. And Nigella’s love of food is a joyful expression of life -something we all need to remember.

Election night: After the drama of the Democratics, then the even-more-dramatic U.S. election campaign that featured an assortment of interesting players, the whole thing culminated in a huge gathering in Chicago. Jesse Jackson’s tears, chanting masses, Oprah’s runny mascara, and the President-Elect’s confident waves and smiles made for a moving, affecting piece of real, live theatre. I’ve never seen anything like it. Part 2: The Inauguration, coming soon.

2009:

Blackbird: Written by David Harrower and directed by Joel Greenburg, Studio 180 is back at the Berkeley after last year’s stunning Stuff Happens, David Hare’s deconstruction of the politics behind the Iraq War. If Blackbird is anywhere near as thrilling and compelling, the Berkeley will have another solid play under its roof.

Antigone: The timely Sophocles tragedy gets the Soulpepper treatment. A favourite play of mine (personal disclosure: I starred in a production in London moons ago), I can’t wait to see powerhouse actor Liisa Repo-Martell in the lead, chewing the scenery a host of other great Canadian actors, including David Storch and Claire Calnan.

Them And Us: Actor/writer Tracy Dawson’s take on modern relating gets a theatrical exploration. I know, I know, I can hear every male friend of mine yawning at the thought of sitting through a play about… relationships. But if Dawson’s energy is anything to go on (I interviewed her recently), the show is sure to be sarcastic, funny, insightful, and have something for both genders.

The Entertainer: John Osbourne’s rarely-performed piece (in Canada, anyway) receives a production at the Shaw Festival, courtesy of Shaw Fest Artistic Director Jackie Maxwell. Exploring notions of “entertainment” and our expectations around it, the piece has a timely relevance, and features some of Canada’s finest performers, including Benedict Campbell in the lead.

The Soloist: Joe Wright’s filmic adaptation of the Steve Lopez book. Lopez is a columnist with the L.A. Times who met the homeless Nathaniel Ayers years ago; the book explores their relationship, and the vitality of music, art, and writing. Featuring Robert Downey Jr. as Lopez and Jamie Foxx as Ayers, I’m thinking this will be one for the Oscar voters next year.

Jessica Lea Mayfield: The singer/songwriter from Kent, Ohio caught me with her beautiful tune, “Kiss Me Again.” Thoughtful without being pretentious, uncomplicated without being folksy, she’s an interesting combination of Cat Power, Patti Smith, and Joni Mitchell, but definitely brings a style all her own. And she’s only 19. Holy smokes.

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