stuff, written by me

Category Archives: Food

Way back at the beginning of November (what honestly feels like five years ago),  I got a call I’d spent months crossing my fingers for, about Birdland. It was the call from Ye Olde Federal Film Entity (who shall remain nameless until they finally give us the money, but you all know who I’m talking about), telling us that they  will  support the project, as long as we  sent them a few outstanding documents and updates by Dec 1.

A month to tie up loose paperwork might seem like a reasonable timeline to you, but in this case, it was like asking us to cook a Christmas dinner in half an hour. I can make “a dinner” in half an hour, but turkey just don’t roast that fast.

Some of what they wanted was relatively easy to pull together, but some items required time and finesse.  Like, for example, casting.

It should surprise no one that after rushing like crazy to hand everything in on deadline (we sort of did, and got an extension on a few things, and then handed those in on time in early January), we’re actually still waiting for them to review the paperwork and get back to us.  They  are slower than  The Turin Horse on quaaludes. Don’t get me wrong. I like The Turin Horse. But holy mother of pearl, this process is slow!

I know, you're thinking "this post isn't about baking!" but goddammit how do you think I get through this shit without impulsively making gingerbread for the first time?!

I know, you’re thinking “this post isn’t about baking!” but goddammit how do you think I get through this shit without impulsively making gingerbread for the first time in my life?!

Anyway, now that we’re at least at the “paperwork is happening” stage of things, we’re able to move on with one of the more exciting parts of the process – casting.

We had to get four actors to “commit” to the project in advance, as a requirement of our funding, in time for that December deadline. I put the word in quotation marks because the  commitment is loose – basically a letter saying “if a wide variety of unspecified conditions are met, I’d be interested in starring in this film”. It’s a low-impact thing to get from an actor, but they still have to like the project and be theoretically available on your schedule. So, unless you have an actor friend who will flat-out lie for you, you do have to find actors who are legitimately interested in being in your movie, even though the letter is by no means binding.

Flour and a whole lotta spices. A good start for any baking experiment.

Flour and a whole lotta spices. A good start for any baking experiment.

It’s also not easy to get on short notice, because you need to give the actor a respectful amount of time to read the script and think about it. Ideally, you don’t want to simultaneously ask  two actors for a letter about the same  role (just in case they both say yes – in which case you have to awkwardly tell one of them that it’s been snapped up – a maaaaaajor faux pas). Approaching actors one at a time means waiting until each person says no before approaching your second or third choice. That takes time.

Anyway. Incredibly enough, we did manage to get letters from four very good  Canadian actors – indie stars, even!  Obviously, nobody’s signed a contract yet, so I can’t publish their names, but I can say this: it was heartening to see talent-of-a-certain-caliber take interest in our ultra-low-budget movie. I say that not because I have little faith in the project, but because I have little faith in people’s willingness to work for below-scale rates, as we will be asking them to do because our project is part of Actra’s  Canadian Independent Production Incentive Program (CIPIP for short – pronounced “see-pip!”).

There were lots of agents who blew us off as well. Which  is really the thing I want to talk about in this post.

Eggs and cream and junk. Oh, and molasses!

Eggs and oil and cream and junk. Oh, and molasses!

Because we weren’t yet green-lit and weren’t yet able to hire a casting director, we were just cold-emailing agents ourselves to say “hey, here’s our script and our plan, whaddayasay?” Sometimes, that worked. Most of the time, that got us a polite brush-off. Many said “yes, thanks, I will pass it on to Ms. X” and then never got back to us. That type of “thanks, we’ll look into it” basically means “no” in my books, because as I’ve learned, movie people really never say “no”, even though they mean “don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Bub”! In a few cases, all we got was icy silence. Life is harsh in Agent-Town.

We were lucky to find an ally at one of the big Canadian agencies, a powerful agent by local standards, who  really liked the script and helped us out by not only signing up one of his clients but lobbying on behalf of the project to his colleagues, so that we were able to get another great actress on board from within his agency. Lucky us – and I truly un-sarcastically mean that. His enthusiasm was a huge help. But lots of agents said no without really bothering to read our materials, and that’s fair enough. They get flooded with material, they’re protecting their clients, or steering them toward a certain type of movie, or a certain budget level, or whatever, and c’est la vie.

But now! Now we’re doing the paperwork and moving forward. Now we’ve got a casting director on board. And honestly, it’s a whole new world.

let's not forget the massive amount of freshly grated ginger. I feared it would make my gingerbread kinda ... "hairy".

let’s not forget the massive amount of freshly grated ginger. Because ginger is so fibrous, and because I threw in a half cup, I feared it would make my gingerbread kinda … “hairy”.

Now that we have a casting director, our film seems legit, and when she puts out a call with descriptions of the roles we’re trying to cast, we suddenly get a flood of names submitted – including some whose agents wouldn’t return our calls about those exact same roles a month ago.

This is only phase one of the whole process. Just because an agent has thrown their client’s name into the hat for a certain role doesn’t mean the actor’s schedule will actually  be open  during our timeframe. It doesn’t mean the actor will like the script or feel that they’re right for the part. It doesn’t mean that they will ultimately agree to some of our other requirements (nudity, for example).

So, you might be saying to yourself “I get it, seeing an actor’s name on the potentials list means almost nothing”. But there, you’d be wrong. The one crucial thing it does mean is this: the actor’s agent, who to a large extent controls the career decisions they make, has looked at our synopsis, our budget level, and our abysmally low rates of pay for actors, and they have said “sure, I’d be willing to put my client into this production”. And that, in itself, is a big deal.

It rises!

It rises!

Next week, we’ll be meeting with a bunch of actors who are a bit too big to audition (at this budget level, especially) but are willing to meet us for a coffee and discuss the project, and that feels like a big step forward. In a week or two, we might be able to publicly announce a few of the names who are attached, and that will help us get the others on board.

The dance continues.

In the meantime, how does an intrepid young producer sublimate the stress of this process without just setting the whole town on fire and walking away? Baking, of course.

Sure, the prime season for gingerbread may have just passed, but I’m sharing this  recipe anyway, because  delicious loaves of cakey, gingery bread should never be out of season.

I used this Martha Stewart recipe but cut the sugar from 3/4 of a cup to about 1/2 a cup. It turned out great. And it wasn’t “hairy”.

mine on the left, hers on the right

mine on the left, hers on the right


Lately, I’ve been cooking as a way to deal with stress. I mean, I’ve been cooking more for the past couple of weeks because I’m in love with my new kitchen, obviously. But it’s also a brilliant way of forcing myself to do something other than a) work, or b) worry about work.

You can’t really multi-task while cooking. You can listen to a podcast or something, but you can’t really pause to send emails or do paperwork, unless you want to smear butter or flour or meat juice all over your laptop and important documents. Pretty much the only other activity that has this effect is going to the movies, where I turn off my phone (because I’m not a monster). But who has time for movies? Apparently not me (although I did see Interstellar and Gone Girl so I guess I’m not at zero for “movies people are on about right now”).

Anyway, this isn’t about how I wish I had time to see Whiplash and Birdman (maybe next week, though). This is about how I’ve been feeling really  overwhelmed with my workload lately, and I haven’t been making time to do the things that usually de-stress me, like going to the gym, or seeing friends, or going to the movies.

But no matter how busy I am, I have to eat, right? And I can’t afford to eat out every day (besides, that would be depressing), right? So! Cooking! You gotta do it anyway, might as well make it fun.

Anyway, I had a craving for mac & cheese the other day so I made up a recipe, which turned out great. For me, 30% of the joy of cooking is in the cooking itself (I like to chop, stir and mash), 30% is in the eating (duh), and 40% is in the creativity of inventing a recipe. I love reading recipes, and deciding that none of them will be as good as the one I can make up myself.

I like to sneak vegetables into everything I cook (even desserts sometimes – see: beet cakes, avocado chocolate mousses) so I decided to try something I’ve seen in other recipes but never tested before: using puréed squash to add creamy texture without adding actual cream. Not that I have anything against cream, mind you.

start with the basics, like onions and bacon

start with the basics, like onions and bacon

I also have a sneaking suspicion that caramelized onions make everything better, so I started with those. And bacon. I caramelized, I fried, and I set them both aside. Then I peeled and chopped the squash and boiled it until it was soft.

Then I made a béchamel sauce, the base without which, I am terribly sorry to tell you, any mac & cheese is subpar. Béchamel is just basic “white sauce” and it’s easy to make, so don’t be intimidated by the fancy French name. Melt some butter, add an equal amount of flour into it to make a roux, and before it gets too dark, slowly add milk. I used about two tablespoons of butter and flour, and two cups of milk. I also added a generous pinch of nutmeg. I’m pretty sure that’s how my mom does it. Anyway, it’s great.

roux - the mortar with which the bricks of your cooking pyramid are bound, y'know?

roux – the mortar with which the bricks of your cooking pyramid are bound, y’know?

Once the béchamel was done, I added the cooked squash and mashed it with a potato masher. Then I added about three cups of shredded cheese. Use whatever blend you like. In my case, it was 50% old cheddar, 25% pecorino romano and 25% smoked gouda (adds A+ smoked flavour). I’ll also note something obvious: this recipe could be made with way, way, way less cheese (a small amount of a particularly sharp-flavoured cheese would be adequate to give it zing and gooeyness), if you want to make an even “healthier” version. My goal was not to make it some kind of diet dish, only to inject a little bit of healthy veg without spoiling or changing the classic flavour.

photo 6

the béchamel and squash mix should resemble a thick soup

I’m bad at measuring pasta so I took the casserole dish I was planning to bake it in, filled about 1/3 of it with dry pasta and boiled that amount, because I figured it would grow in volume to approximately double its size, which, when combined with the sauce, would roughly fill the dish. Makes sense, right? Worked perfectly.

An aside: while I cooked, I listened to some old episodes of Canadaland. I’ve been finding podcasts very soothing lately, because they take my mind off my constantly racing thoughts (my mind is a hamster wheel of ‘to do lists’, basically). Colin’s a comedy podcast listener, but I’m all newsy and factsy, so it’s a loop of This American Life, Canadaland, Planet Money, Freakonomics, Stuff You Should Know and Radiolab (plus Serial, obviously, although I am not ready for it to be over). If you have any other podcasts to recommend along those lines, please send them my way! I am always looking for new ones.

I used whatever this pasta is called, because macaroni is kind of boring

I used whatever this pasta is called, because macaroni is kind of boring

Aaaaanyway, I boiled the pasta to very-al-dente, drained it and added the previously-set-aside bacon and caramelized onions, then combined it with the squash’n’cheese mixture. Then I poured it all into the casserole dish. Final touch: more cheese and some breadcrumbs on top.

photo 8

I baked it for about 20 minutes then broiled it for another 3-4 (I very nearly burned it – beware your broilers, people, it only takes a split second to go from perfectly golden brown to black). The stove we have at the new place is very fancy (I googled the brand, and I’m pretty sure it’s this one) and I’m still getting used to it. Or maybe I’m just getting used to having an oven that works the way it’s supposed to, unlike our old one. I don’t have to kneel next to it and blow on the pilot light to ignite it, how novel!

To recap:

ready for a sprinkling of cheese and breadcrumbs

ready for a sprinkling of cheese and breadcrumbs

topped and ready for the oven

topped and ready for the oven

aaand done!

aaand done!


  • 2 small onions, chopped
  • 1 small butternut squash
  • 4-6 slices of bacon
  • macaroni or other pasta of your choice (I think I used 3-4 cups?)
  • 2 cups of cheddar cheese, grated
  • 1 cup of smoked gouda, grated
  • 1 cup of pecorino romano, grated
  • 2 tablespoons each of butter & flour, pinch of nutmeg & 2 cups of milk (for béchamel sauce)
  • breadcrumbs (to add crunch!)


  • Sautée onions and fry bacon, then set aside
  • Peel & chop butternut squash, boil till completely soft, then set aside
  • Grate all the cheese, then set aside
  • Make the béchamel sauce (go here for instructions) and don’t forget to add a pinch of nutmeg
  • Add cooked squash to béchamel sauce and mash/purée
  • Add 3/4 of your grated cheese to squash & sauce mixture
  • Cook pasta until it’s al dente (but not as done as you’d normally like)
  • Add in the bacon and caramelized onions
  • Mix with cheesy squash sauce
  • Pour into casserole dish, cover with the cheese you kept aside & add sprinkling of breadcrumbs
  • Bake in 350 degree oven for 20-30 minutes, until it’s bubbling & browned on top

The finished product: just what the doctor ordered! Served with a simple lettuce / arugula / mushroom salad and a dash of hot sauce. Just as good when reheated the next day, and I’d definitely make it again. Maybe with more smoked cheese and a dash of smoked paprika next time, but either way I’m never going back to mac & cheese that doesn’t have squash in it. You really couldn’t taste the squash because the cheeses overpowered its mild flavour, but it added a level of creaminess to the whole dish so that it was never runny but also never dry (especially at the ‘leftovers’ phase – very important). Plus, eating a plate of cheesy pasta and getting a serving of vegetables feels nice. Life hack! This cream sauce is actually a nutritious gourd!

photo 12

I can’t believe it’s squash!

I made a pie. I’m not sure if it’s a chicken pot pie or just a chicken pie (does it have to be made in a pot to be a “pot pie”?) but either way, I made up the recipe and it turned out great, so here it is. I am not a good follower of recipes. I usually read a few and then I cobble together my own based on flavours I like, and what happens to be in the fridge. So, if there’s one thing I’d like to encourage you to do, it is to not take this recipe too seriously. Cooking isn’t science. Either that, or I’m just bad at science.

Let’s start with the basics. I started by putting half a chicken breast and two thighs (all boneless and skinless) into a casserole dish with about half a cup of water (I would have used stock but I didn’t have any) and popped it in the oven to bake/poach.

colourful carrots

colourful carrots

The recipes I consulted all called for the same quartet of vegetables: onions, carrots, peas and celery. I didn’t mess with that formula too much, although I added a few brussels sprouts (why not?) and sautéed it all in about a teaspoon of butter because let’s face it, butter is the best, but you don’t actually need half a cup of it to make something delicious.

all chopped up

all chopped up

Oh yeah, I forgot. I also added corn. Frozen corn & peas, fresh everything else.

Spice-wise, the recipes I consulted mostly called for dried thyme, which I did use, but one clever lady whose blog I consulted suggested a “teeny bit” of turmeric. That’s my kind of measurement. I used approximately five shakes of the spice tin. Next time I’ll probably double that amount.

totally un-measured quantities of spice

totally un-measured quantities of spice

Once the veggies started to soften, it was time to add liquid. Most of the recipes I checked out called for what seemed like huge amounts – three cups of chicken stock, plus another cup or so of milk or cream, that kind of thing.

I didn’t have chicken stock and I thought three cups sounded like way too much, so I used the next best thing: miso. I mixed a heaping tablespoon in a cup of warm water, mixed it until the paste dissolved, and poured it in. Flavour-wise, the miso added a perfect saltiness without overpowering the veggies.

no chicken stock, no problem

no chicken stock, no problem

I also added about a cup of 2% milk, because that’s what we had in the fridge (and because a creamy pie is a wonderful thing). I cooked the veggies until they were soft and added a heaping tablespoon of whole wheat flower to thicken it.  By this point the chicken was done. I tore it apart with a couple of forks, and added it to the pot. I was originally planning to cube the chicken but one of the recipes I found called for shredding and I thought it would give the pie a nicer texture. Definitely true!

The mixture seemed a bit dry at that point so I added a few more splashes of milk, as well as some salt and pepper. Not too much milk though, because who wants a soggy pie?

tender chicken

pulled chicken

I’m no baker and I don’t have the patience for things like “making dough” so I bought some, pre-made. I might attempt my own pie pastry next time but for today, just making a chicken pie for the first time in my life was adventurous enough. I let the filling cool off a bit, then piled it as high as it could go into a 9″ pie pan.

pile it in as high as it'll go

pile it in as high as it’ll go

Then I tossed a second pie crust on top (making sure to cut some holes in it to let the steam out) and pressed it all together. Finishing touch: a generous brushing of egg over the top of the crust.

never underestimate the importance of an egg wash

never underestimate the importance of an egg wash

I popped it onto a baking sheet (in case of spillage – the baking sheet is a lot easier to clean than the bottom of the oven) and slid it into the oven at 350 degrees until it was golden brown. I think it took about 35-40 minutes. I just kept checking it every 10 or so until it seemed done.

the finished product

the finished product

Because I added a lot less liquid than most recipes called for, it was more dense and less soupy than some pot pies I’ve had. It sliced really easily and mostly kept its form.

An interesting and juicier alternative would be to add more liquid to the meat and veggie mixture (more stock, a splash of wine, whatever) and then bake it in a big casserole dish with a pie crust on top, but none on the bottom. I considered doing this but I was really in the mood for pastry.

perfect slice

perfect slice

Et voila! To recap, here’s the recipe:


  • One large onion, diced
  • 1/2 cup diced carrots
  • 1/2 cup diced celery
  • 1/2 cup diced brussels sprouts
  • 1/2 cup frozen or fresh peas
  • 1/2 cup frozen or fresh corn
  • 1 cup of chicken or miso stock
  • 1 cup of milk (plus more if needed)
  • 1 heaping tablespoon of flour (I used whole wheat, any kind will do)
  • A dollop of butter
  • dried thyme and turmeric to taste


  • Poach, fry or bake the chicken, as is your preference, then tear or cut into small pieces
  • Sautée onions in butter, then add other veggies
  • Once veggies start softening, add stock and milk, simmer till liquid starts to reduce, then add flour to thicken
  • When chicken is done, shred it and add to vegetable mixture. Pour into pie crust and pile high
  • Top with a second pie crust, brush with egg and bake for 35-45 minutes

I served it with a simple tomato, basil and shallot salad (+ olive oil, obvs) and a dash of my favourite hot sauce.

check out that hot sauce action shot!

check out that hot sauce action shot!