Up where we belong

There has recently been some debate in the local paper here in Edmonton about cycling on the sidewalk (or what I call the pavement). Some cyclists prefer to ride on the sidewalk as they see riding on the road as too dangerous. In most cases, from what I can see, these are usually the big boys who look as hard a nails, but evidently that’s all swagger. You see them sitting as far back as they can on the saddles of their customized bikes nonchalantly weaving in and out of the pedestrians along Whyte Avenue. Now Whyte Avenue is probably one of the busiest sidewalks in Edmonton. It’s stupid to cycle along this sidewalk, mainly because, due to the numbers of people walking along it, it would take you ages to actually get anywhere!

I don’t generally have a problem with cycling on the sidewalk – I have to admit to doing it myself at times. However, this is usually when I want to travel the wrong way down a one-way street, or after I’ve crossed a road at the most convenient place to do so and I’m travelling against the flow of traffic. In both instances, we’re talking about riding on the sidewalk for no more than about 50 metres or so - and doing so very slowly. (Although here in Edmonton you see so few people out walking along the residential roads, at any time, that causing injury to someone by riding on the sidewalk is something that I imagine happens very rarely, if ever.)

During the debate as to whether cyclists should be “allowed” to ride on the sidewalk, one of the members of the provincial parliament said something to the effect that cyclists should ride on the sidewalk and that it’s safer for them to do so. Now this I have to disagree with. Rarely is it safer to cycle on the sidewalk than the road. One of the reasons being that the majority of motorists aren’t expecting to see a cyclist on the sidewalk so won’t be looking out for one. This means that if a car is pulling out of an alleyway (of which there are a lot here), there’s a good chance that if you’re cycling along the sidewalk the two of you will collide. For starters, as a cyclist, you will be travelling faster than a pedestrian will be walking. The motorist will be thinking that he can travel at a speed that will enable him to stop in time if he sees someone walking; however, this speed may not enable him to stop in time if you’re approaching on your bike. That’s just one of the dangers for cyclists riding on the sidewalk.

Cyclists are safest when they’re predictable and we are most predictable when we’re riding on the road: this is, after all, where we belong. Which brings me to an important point about this issue: anyone who wants to be taken seriously as a road user should use their vehicle in the manner for which it was intended. If we all take to the sidewalks, then we lose credibility as cyclists – and as road users. I don't know about North America, but in the UK it’s taken years for cycling to be accepted as a credible mode of transport and not just something people do because they can’t afford to drive. If cyclists move from the roads to the sidewalks then we risk going back to the situation where cycling is again viewed as a substitute mode of transport, not a preferred one.

Stick to the roads whenever you can. Ride assertively and predictably. And try not to feel intimidated by motorists. Remember that we have every right to be on the roads. It’s where we belong.

Great digestive biscuit recipe No. 1

This is the easiest dessert in the whole wide world. Just three ingredients and no instructions - the photo shows how it's made. I use a nice thick Greek yogurt, although if you really wanted to go for it, you could use cream. The biscuits are digestives (McVitie's to be precise), because they’re not too sweet and are relatively sturdy.

As soon as you bite into this it will fall apart – so a plate’s fairly useful. Don’t bother with any cutlery though; fingers are all you need.

Bean and gone

I have a great recipe for broad (fava) beans (or rather Rose Elliot does), which is why I decided to grow them this summer. When buying seeds I’m always tempted by the packets with those little veggie cartoons on the front: if kids can grow them, surely I can! I had moderate success with the broad beans. The beans I picked were of a decent size, color, and shape, and tasted good; however, some pods were soft and misshapen and their beans weren’t good. I’m not too sure if the beans were blighted by a disease or if I just didn’t give them enough room in which to grow (I have a modest sized veg patch in my back garden). I also think they may have suffered from a lack of water when I was away for a week or so.

Anyway, they take a good photo!

Rose Elliot's Penne with Minto Pesto, Peans, and Beans (or a variation thereon):

Boil up a pan of penne. While the pasta is boiling, finely chop some mint leaves, crush a garlic clove and stir these into some olive oil. When the pasta is almost ready, add peas and broad beans. Once the pasta’s cooked, drain it (taking care not to lose any of the small peas during the process!), then stir in the mint pesto and season. Serve with parmesan cheese.

Note: If the broad beans are particularly tough, you may need to boil them first, remove their skins, and then add them to the pasta once it's cooked. Frozen peas and beans work just as well, and if you can’t get broad beans, use lima beans.

Lovely jubbly

Unless I’m in a really good mood, I can usually count on the fingers of one hand - excluding my thumb - what I like about living in Edmonton (although when I lived in the UK I rarely needed more than one hand for the same exercise). One of those things is cooking on the barbecue in the summer. I know that barbecue cooking isn’t exclusive to Alberta, but to me it sort of is as before I moved to Canada I had never used a barbecue. I had eaten food cooked on one, but never used one to cook on myself.

When our landlord was showing me and my boyfriend round the house we’re now in, she pointed to the contraption tucked away at the back of the shed and said that we could use it (the barbie) if we wanted to. Seeing as my boyfriend is vegetarian we didn’t think we would ever bother to roll the thing out of the shed, but this being my third summer in Alberta, I find I’m using the barbecue more and more.

Yesterday evening I thought I would try cooking chips on it using Jamie Oliver’s “recipe” from his Jamie at Home cookbook. It’s not so much a recipe more a suggestion (but then I suppose all recipes are): slice potatoes in half inch rounds, par boil for five minutes, drain the water, throw in some olive oil and herbs, shake around, and then place the potatoes on the barbecue. I had only one of the herbs Jamie suggested using, which was rosemary, and I think that most of this got washed away with the olive oil at the bottom of the pan as there seemed to be very little green stuff stuck to the potatoes when they went on the barbecue, but nevertheless, these chips were bloomin’ lovely! (As the geezer himself would say.)

What helped with their loveliness was serving them with rhubarb habanero ketchup. I picked this up when I was downtown yesterday in the city’s gourmet supermarket (for gourmet read sells sundried tomatoes). It’s a locally produced ketchup-cum-chutney and very tasty. Habanero peppers are small spicy peppers from Havana (habanero meaning from Havana – La Habana – my clever boyfriend told me). The ketchup is made by Cooks Corner with all natural ingredients. Lovely jubbly!

So that’s two things I like then…

Chip off the old block

The problem with not eating fast food on a regular basis is that you don’t know how the menus work. Today I ventured into the city centre to buy tickets for a concert and as I hadn’t eaten lunch before hopping on my bike and cycling in, I thought I would catch up with Colonel Saunders and see how things are with his KFC. However, when I got to the KFC concession stand in the city centre mall I couldn’t be bothered to queue (it is, after all, just seasoned chicken remember).

I therefore decided to try some New York Fries. Less damaging than KFC (no meat at least), and probably cheaper (although on reflection I’m not sure it was). I always approach fast food menus with a little trepidation as they’re not quite as simple as they should be. To me, at least, it seems there are endless permutations of items and to simply ask for a burger and chips would just leave everyone confused (if not a little disppointed given the creativity that's gone into producing those menus). Anyway, the menu at NYF didn’t look too complicated (although I did wait until the customer in front had moved off so she wouldn’t actually hear what I was about to order). At the time, the chances of walking away with a simple portion of fries seemed out of reach, so I asked for a portion with sour cream and tomatoes (these were two of the four ingredients under the heading “Veggie Works”). The woman behind the counter – see what I mean? I don’t even know the correct term for someone who dishes this stuff up! – explained that the Veggie Works included all four ingredients. I knew then that I had screwed up, so said that that would be great and yes, please. I walked away feeling very grateful for her patience in dealing with someone who obviously belongs in the first half of the 20th century.

But thrifty NYF ain’t. $4.99 for a bowl of about thirty fries, covered in Cheez Whizz, sour cream, chopped tomatoes and green onions. And half of those fries tasted of little else than the plastic cheese. Next time I’m standing my ground and having just the fries!

On a green note though, I kept the plastic fork the woman advised me to pick up once she’d handed me my fries. I will keep it in my bag with my plastic spoon. I find it difficult to use this stuff and then throw it away. I’ve been carrying the spoon around with me since I found it impossible to throw away one of those plastic stirrers you get in the coffee shops (I think I’ve also got that in my bag too!). The spoon’s great though: just use it to swirl your milk into your coffee, stick it in your mouth to wipe it and then put it back in your bag. Although I sometimes take a little extra care with hygiene and use an old tissue I might have in my bag to wipe it clean...

Soap story

The reason I got into soap-making has nothing to do with thriftyness, or green or DIY living. It’s because I’m a sucker for a pretty package. In fact it doesn’t even have to be pretty. Some products are packaged in such a “natural” way that there’s little room for prettiness – and still these pull me in. The products I get a particular thrill out of seeing cleverly packaged are those that fall into the “lotions and potions” category – shower gel, hand lotion, and especially soap. Soap is such a useful product, too; shower gel and hand lotion I can live without (almost), but soap certainly has its uses. That’s why I bought a book from Amazon and set about making my own. As you can see, I’m still working on the packaging…

Making soap's just like cooking really. You take quantities of basic ingredients, mix them together, and then enjoy the results. You have to wait a little longer when making soap than you do, say, a cheese pie, to sample your endeavours however. But when you see your first bar of soap foaming up as you turn it over and over in your wet hands, it’s well worth it. And making your own soap does of course incorporate thrifty, green, and DIY living. It’s cheap to produce your own bars, no unnecessary chemicals or materials need be used, and you make it completely from scratch.

A very basic recipe for making soap involves just three ingredients: lye, fats, and water. There are lots of other ingredients you can add if you want your soap a little less basic, such as essential oils, bees wax, colorings, but these three ingredients are all that you need to make soap. If you've never used sodium hydroxide (lye) before then you need to know that it should always be handled with care. Wear rubber gloves and protective eye-wear when dealing with lye, and keep it stored away from children and animals - and anyone else who might be curious enough to know what it is! And before you ask, no, it's not possible to make soap without lye; there's no "safer" alternative.

Basic Soap Recipe (suitable for vegetarians)

Ingredients:

2oz (57g) lye

5oz (142g) distilled water or spring water

16oz (454g) vegetable fat (for the last soap I made, I used a 50/50 mix of olive oil and corn oil)

Equipment:

2 enamel or stainless steel pots

2 glass candy thermometers

Weighing scales (kitchen scales are fine)

Eye protection (DIY glasses or similar)

2 plastic spatulas for stirring

Old towel or blanket (to wrap soap once in mould)

Plastic mould (use what you can find!)

Knife for cutting the soap once it's hardened

Melt the fat in a pot. Use a stainless steel or enamel pot; don't use aluminum or iron as these will react with the lye, which you will add later. Once the fat has melted, turn off the heat and leave until the temperature settles at about 130 degrees F (54C).

In another stainless steel or enamel pot, place your water and then carefully pour the lye into the water. Put on your protective eye-gear and rubber gloves for this (and never pour water into lye or you’ll have an explosion on your hands!). Stir until the lye is dissolved. The mixture will give off a small amount of fumes, so be careful not to have your face too near and breathe in; it's best to do this in a well ventilated part of the house. Leave the solution until the temperature settles at about 130 degrees F (54C).

Then add the lye solution to the fats and carefully stir intermittently. After a while the mixture will start to thicken and then "trace" (leave a trace when it falls from the stirrer back onto the mixture in the pot). Once this stage has been reached, pour it into your mould. Don't worry if it takes ages for your soap to trace, sometimes when working with vegetable oils it can. If you've spent the best part of two or three hours stirring your soap every so often and it's thickening but not actually tracing, just pour it into the mould and it'll be OK. Wrap your mould in a towel or blanket for 24 hours, after which time the soap should be hard enough to cut (if your soap took a long time to trace it may not be hard until two or three days after having poured it into your mould). Whenever it is hard enough to cut, take your soap out of the mould and, wearing the rubber gloves (the soap will still be caustic at this stage so may irritate your skin), cut it into bars. Cover the bars and place them somewhere to "cure" (complete the saponification process) for six weeks before use.

Saponification occurs when an acid (fats or oils) is mixed with a caustic alkali (sodium hydroxide in the case of hard soap, also referred to as lye or caustic soda). When these two are mixed at a certain temperature, a process called saponification is triggered, the result of which is soap.

Once you've mastered this basic recipe you can experiment using different fats and oils, and then start incorporating other ingredients into your soap, such as fragrances, colors, and even fruit and vegetables.

Source: Melinda Coss: The Handmade Soap Book

Cheez pleaz

There’s a great scene in the film Infamous (starring Toby James as Truman Capote) where, having recently moved to Kansas, he's invited to a dinner party (of sorts). Being used to spending his days dining in the best restaurants in New York, Capote goes in search of a fine cheese to take as a gift to his hostess. At the local supermarket he's horrified to find that the only cheese on sale is Velveeta. Velveeta is far from fine cheese, or any cheese come to that; it's a "cheese product" – the original Cheez Whizz.

Capote was right: You can tell a lot about the civilization of a place from the cheese its inhabitants consume. I felt a bit like Capote when I first went to buy cheese here in my local Safeway's. On first sighting, I took the orange colored cheese in the supermarket to be slabs of Red Leicester and found it a bit strange that this particular cheese was so popular in Alberta. Until, that was, I discovered that the orange cheese was in fact regular processed "cheddar." In Alberta, the cheddar we get in the UK is referred to as white cheddar (and isn't orange).

But if you're looking for something a little more exotic than orange cheese here in Edmonton, then you may have a problem, especially when it comes to halloumi cheese. Because it seems that this cheese can't be had for love nor money. Well, actually you can find it if you venture out to the bigger supermarkets - but only during the summer months. The assistant in Save on Foods, where I was unable to buy some the other day, advised me that it's only stocked during the summer (it's the middle of August now but seeing as it's winter for six months of the year here, I suppose it's conceivable that autumn's already upon us).

The reason that halloumi is only stocked during the summer here in Edmonton is that, as it doesn’t melt, it’s a great cheese for the barbecue. And it certainly is: no more having to worry about what to feed vegetarians, and no more having to worry about whether what your guests are eating is actually cooked! But halloumi is more than just a gimmicky cheese that holds its shape when heated; it's also a delicious tasting cheese, creamy and salty with a lovely soft and chewy texture. There’s also something else that’s a little gimmicky about it; it squeaks when you eat it.

For great tasting halloumi kebabs (or kabobs as they're called in North America), marinate chunks of the cheese, with cherry tomatoes, squares of red pepper and red onion, and mushrooms in olive oil, crushed garlic, a little lemon juice and some chopped herbs (thyme, parsley, mint, and oregano work well). A few hours in the marinade should be enough. And then thread the cheese and veggies on to skewers and away you go. Use the remains of the marinade to baste the kebabs while they’re cooking. And if it’s raining, just use the grill.

Halloumi shouldn't be a "seasonal" cheese; it tastes just as good cooked indoors as it does out. So if anyone knows where to get it (all year around) in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, please let me know!