Creamy Buttermilk Ranch Macaroni Salad

I’m just going to start off by saying that I am so not the kind of person who tries out for reality television.. I don’t even watch it!

Yet somewhere out in the ether of the internet, there exists a photo (or possibly several) of me standing amongst a frenzied crowd in downtown Toronto before the crack of dawn, surrounded by people yelling and shoving self-promoting signs at a panning camera lens (I was not, for the record, one of those people).

It all started with a nudge (okay, more like a heavy push) from a friend. Me? Masterchef? I would never do that. That’s just crazy.

But that is exactly why I did it. Because over the past couple of months, I’ve come to realize that doing things just because they aren’t comfortable is not actually the way to be doing things at all. The quite opposite, in fact.

So I did it. I stayed up all night making a recipe that I thought completely encapsulated myself and my approach to food. I took my favourite summer dessert, strawberry shortcake, and made it tinier, healthier and infused with just the right amount of whimsy. Two-bite strawberry shortcake, I called it, before carefully stuffing them into containers, packing up my cooler and falling into bed just a few hours before I would be lining up outside for the auditions. (Don’t worry, that recipe will be popping up here soon!)

To cut to the chase, I didn’t make the cut. And to be completely, utterly honest, I’m not the least bit disappointed. The point of this crazy little adventure was not to get on television at all, but to prove to my reserved, humble little self that saying “no” to something simply by proxy of it being scary gets me absolutely nowhere, but wholeheartedly embracing the weird and wonderful opportunities that come my way will ultimately make me a happier person.

That’s what food is to me – a constant push and encouragement to be better, try harder and never doubt what I’m capable of. My relationship with food has taken me on an incredible journey – it’s shaped my career, my confidence and the way I see the day-to-day challenges. It’s made me lose my cool while [over]cooking 30 servings of basmati rice for a banquet class at George Brown, but it’s given me the gumption to stand in front of Masterchef judges and present them my dish without the slightest tingling of self-doubt.

Food is so much more than what you put on a plate three times a day. It’s a language, an expression of who you are and what you stand for, and it teaches you lessons about yourself you never thought possible from a simple bag of cornmeal or a bowl of icing.

Whether you’re crafting a simple grilled cheese sandwich or concocting a grand three-course meal, remember that every step you take in the kitchen is an expression of yourself. Make it count, take some risks and trust yourself. You never know where it will take you.

Macaroni Salad IngredientsCreamy Buttermilk Ranch Macaroni Salad
Serves 6 to 8.

This recipe is my own version of my mom’s classic summer go-to side dish. The creamy combination of Greek yogurt, sour cream and buttermilk give this simple ranch-style dressing just the right amount of tang.

3 cups elbow macaroni
2 to 3 carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
1 cup chopped cheddar or mozzarella cheese
1 green or red apple, chopped
2 green onions, sliced

Buttermilk Ranch
1 cup Greek yogurt
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 1/2 tbsp chopped fresh chives, divided
1/2 tsp each sea salt and fresh ground black pepper


1. Cook macaroni according to package directions. Drain and rinse with cold water until cool.

2. Meanwhile, prepare buttermilk ranch: In a blender, combine Greek yogurt, sour cream, buttermilk, garlic, 1 tbsp chives and salt and pepper. Blend until smooth and well combined. Transfer to a bowl and fold in remaining 1/2 tbsp chives. Cover and refrigerate until needed.

3. In a large casserole dish, combine macaroni, carrots, bell peppers, cheddar and apple. Stir in buttermilk ranch until fully combined. Cover and refrigerate until cold.

4. To serve, garnish with green onions.



Watermelon Gazpacho with Fresh Basil Cream

gazpacho 4

Every once in a while, we need a fresh start.

In order to grow, we need to every so often challenge ourselves, sweep the cobwebs, shake out the rug and take inventory of what we have. And most important, we need to determine whether what we have is what we really want.

You might have noticed my site looks a little different than it did the last time you visited. It’s fresher, brighter and a better reflection of the kind of person I really am and continue to strive to be.

Over the years, this blog has been a resource for me – it’s grounded me, taught me how to cook and given me opportunities I never would have had otherwise. In turn, I’m going to make this blog a resource for you. I’ll be incorporating short how-to videos and offering more instruction on how to make cooking healthier, easier and more enjoyable, and I’ll continue to share the recipes I’m concocting in my own kitchen.

I want to help you rediscover your kitchen as the creative oasis that it is. I want you to take joy in cooking and view dinner as something to be savoured each and every day – not something to dread the minute the five o’clock hunger pangs come along.

Please let me know what you think of the new look – I’d love to hear your thoughts! And special thanks to my friend, graphic designer and illustrator Bianca DiPietro, for creating my adorable logo at the top. For more of her work, check out her website.

I created this refreshing soup a few weeks ago, when we were suffering through a pretty intense heat wave here in Toronto and my stove and I just weren’t getting along that well. It’s a great mid-afternoon cool-me-down for those days when it really is just too bloody hot to eat, let alone cook, and it literally comes together in just a few steps. The basil cream is an indulgent and delicious topper, but totally optional. Here’s what you need to do:

1. Chop your watermelon into medium-size cubes.

watermelon chopped

2. Peel and halve cucumbers lengthwise and remove seeds by running a spoon along the middle of each half.

seed cucumber

3. Purée it all in a food processor with lemon juice and white balsamic for a hint of acidity… and that’s it!


Watermelon Gazpacho with Fresh Basil Cream
Serves 6 to 8.

Serve this chilled soup as a refreshing light summer lunch, or spoon it into small mason jars for a cute dessert option!


6 cups cubed watermelon
3 cups peeled, seeded and roughly chopped cucumber
2 tbsp fresh lemon or lime juice
1 tbsp white balsamic vinegar
1 avocado, peeled, pitted and chopped

Basil Cream
1 cup heavy (35%) cream
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, finely chopped (TIP: Basil bruises and browns quickly, so wait until you’re ready to fold the basil into the cream before you chop it.)


1. In a food processor or blender, purée watermelon, cucumber, lemon juice and vinegar until smooth. (TIP: You may need to work in batches, depending on the size of your food processor or blender.) Refrigerate until chilled.

2. In a large chilled bowl, add cream. With an electric hand mixer or whisk, beat until stiff peaks form. Fold in basil.

3. Serve gazpacho in chilled bowls with a dollop of basil cream. Garnish with avocado.



Tomato, Basil and Mozzarella Toss with Crispy Garlic Chips

tomato saladI want you to reframe the way you think about cooking.

Ditch the recipe, hide your cookbooks and put away that smart phone. Hit up your local market and gravitate toward the brightest, freshest ingredients you can find. Then go home and own – really, truly own – your kitchen.

Too often we feel lost in our kitchens – like we need a guidebook or action plan to do what is at its core a very simple task. We dread the moment we enter our kitchens, and are easily tempted by the can of Campbell’s that’s been lurking in our cupboard since God-knows-when.

But what I love about cooking is the control. I really, truly crave control. And too often in our lives, we aren’t at the helm, but rather following someone else’s idea of what we should be doing and how.

So when you get in your kitchen tonight, don’t let someone else dictate how you chop your garlic or whether you sauté chicken or shrimp. Do it your way, have fun and don’t be afraid to fail.

This super simple toss happened one night when I had a plethora of tomatoes kicking around the fridge and was craving soft mozzarella in a really passionate kind of way. I added basil and deep-fried garlic because, well, they’re delicious, but you should try adding your own mix-ins depending on your tastes. Chopped watermelon would be divinely refreshing, feta or goat cheese are always delicious, and mint is a nice, light topper too.

beauty shot 2

Tomato, Basil and Mozzarella Toss with Crispy Garlic Chips
Serves 3 to 4.

Whip up this five-minute dish for a light lunch or summery side. The quickly caramelized garlic chips add sweetness, plus they infuse heart-healthy olive oil with irresistible flavour for a hassle-free dressing.


3 tbsp olive oil
2 to 3 large cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 pint grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
1 180-g tub buffalo mozzarella, drained and cheese torn into chunks
1/2 bunch fresh basil, chopped


1. In a small skillet, heat oil on medium. Add garlic and cook, shaking skillet occasionally, until garlic is golden and crisp, 4 to 5 minutes. (TIP: Garlic should be completely submerged in oil, so you may need to use more oil depending on the size of your skillet to ensure garlic is covered.)

2. In a large bowl, toss tomatoes and mozzarella. Add garlic and oil from skillet and toss to coat. Garnish with basil.



Beef Tenderloin with Raspberry Wine Sauce and Blue Cheese

beef tenderloin

Sometimes you just need to feel the weight of a rock beneath your feet, the chill of a river’s rush lapping at your toes and the calming peace of being completely alone.

It’s in those moments that you truly find yourself, ground yourself. The minute details that cloud your mind daily start to fade, and you realize that life really is just about putting one foot in front of the other, regardless of what obstructs your path.

Last week was not a good week for me – my company closed its doors, leaving myself and 60 of my colleagues and friends out of jobs. It was heartbreaking, saying goodbye to the magazine I’ve loved and cared for over the past two and a half years.

The truth is, my job had become my identity – and from it, I reaped my sense of worth. I came to respect myself and know myself as the associate editor of Clean Eating Magazine, rather than the person I’ve been all along.

So last week, when for the first time in – well, forever – that I woke up without a plan, a schedule of events or miles-long to-do list, I was lost. I floundered, cleaned the heck out of my apartment and spent a lot of quality time catching up on my Facebook feed. I got angry and sad and frustrated. I cried and ate far too many granola bars. I mourned.

But this week is about letting go. I’m spending time by the river, dipping my toes in the stream. I’m picking strawberries with friends and testing out the recipes I’ve been dreaming of but never had time to actually make. I’m just being with myself, learning about myself and appreciating who I am and all that I have.

I’m grateful for my time with Clean Eating – the friends I’ve made, the lessons I’ve learned and the skills I’ve developed. When I moved to Toronto to take this job, my team in many ways became my family, and the doors of Robert Kennedy Publishing became a sanctuary from the homesickness and loneliness that accompanied leaving my friends and family behind.

And while I’m sad to see this chapter of my life close, I’m finally ready to look forward, to embrace this next challenge and spend a little more time with my toes in the water, learning about myself.


Beef Tenderloin with Raspberry Wine Sauce and Blue Cheese
Serves 4.

1 tbsp butter
1 shallot, minced
1 1/2 cups red wine
1 cup beef broth
1 1/2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1/2 tsp each sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, plus additional to taste
1 tbsp olive oil
4 beef tenderloin medallions (5 to 7 ounces each)
1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese
1 cup fresh raspberries


1. In a medium or large skillet, melt butter on medium heat. Add shallot and sauté, stirring often, until beginning to brown. Add wine, broth and vinegar. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer and cook until liquid reduces by two-thirds, 25 to 30 minutes.

2. Season beef with salt and pepper. In a separate large skillet, heat oil on medium-high. Add beef, leaving at least 1 inch between each medallion, and cook, turning once, until reached desired doneness. Remove from skillet and tent with foil. Let rest for 5 minutes.

3. Season wine mixture with salt and pepper. Stir in raspberries and simmer, stirring occasionally, until berries begin to break down.

4. Divide beef among serving plates and top with wine mixture and blue cheese.



Glowing Grain Salad with Dreamy Avocado Dressing

Glowing Grain Salad

Today I just cooked.

I didn’t worry about the rent, or my overdue Visa payment, or the ants that are taking over my bathroom.

I didn’t stress over my job or my career path or why my boyfriend hasn’t proposed yet.

I didn’t even consider whether I’ll have time to have babies before my ovaries start shriveling or how the hell I’m ever going to be able to buy a decent home, or whether I should pack it all up and move back East to be a pharmacist or a barista or something.

There was none of that. There was just me, my knife and my stove.

I was in control, a feeling I can’t say I’ve experienced for quite some time now. For the past few months, I’ve been more or less rudderless and confused, struggling to figure out exactly what happened to me and how I get out.

My plans backfired. I’d done everything right – worked my way to the top of the class, elbowed into my dream job and had, as far as I was concerned, “made it.”

But they don’t teach you in journalism school how to look your colleagues in the eye as they’re walked out the door. They don’t prepare you for the reality of surpluses and restructuring or whatever other buzzword flies around when an industry is on the edge of collapse.

What I did today was cook – because at the end of the day, that is all I can do. I put my knife in my right hand and a sweet potato in the other and I just chop. I slice away my anxiety and worry and frustration and tears and I make food that nourishes me, soothes me. I take control of my kitchen and I make something beautiful.

This salad is my latest obsession. Bursting with fresh seasonal produce, hearty barley and topped with a creamy avocado and lime yogurt dressing, it transcends salad territory, edging its way into summer comfort food.


Glowing Grain Salad with Dreamy Avocado Dressing
Makes 5 servings.

1 1/2 cups pearl barley, rinsed
2 tsp olive oil
2 5-oz boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to an even thickness
1 bunch asparagus, trimmed and chopped into 1-inch lengths
2 cups loosely packed baby arugula or spinach
1 pear, chopped
1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 avocado, peeled and pitted
1/2 cup plain 1% yogurt
Juice of 1/2 lime
1/4 tsp sea salt

1. In a large saucepan, add barley and enough water to cover by 1-inch. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a gentle simmer and cook until tender, 30 to 35 minutes. Drain well.

2. Meanwhile, in a medium skillet, heat oil on medium. Add chicken and cook, turning once, until golden and cooked through, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a cutting board and use 2 forks to shred chicken into bite-size pieces.

3. Fill a pot with 1-inch water and fit with a steamer basket. Bring water to a simmer and add asparagus to basket. Cook until tender-crisp, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer to a bowl of ice water until cool, then drain and set aside.

4. Prepare dressing: In a blender, combine avocado, yogurt, lime, salt and 1/2 cup water. Blend until smooth, adding additional water as needed to reach desired consistency. Season with additional salt and lime juice, to taste.

5. In a large bowl, combine barley, chicken, asparagus, arugula and pear. Toss to combine. Divide among serving bowls and garnish with cranberries. Serve with a dollop of dressing.



Healthy Granola, Three Ways


So what’s your excuse?

We all have them – these everyday annoyances we tell ourselves are more important than what we should actually be doing.

I’m not talking about housework or taking the dog for a walk – I mean the things we really want and should be doing, but foolishly let life get in the way of, like switching careers or leaving a bad relationship or, say, writing this blog post right now.

Maybe it’s a financial excuse (who can afford to go back to school?) or a time excuse (who’s got time to be single?), but ultimately it all comes down to fear and frustration.

I’m afraid that people won’t read what I write or that what I do write won’t live up to what I wrote last time. I’m frustrated that what I love to do – tell stories – is going out of style in favour of shorter, punchier news bits that require little time or knowledge to read and understand.

And then come the excuses – the floor needs vacuumed, the tub needs scrubbed, dinner needs made, dishes need washed, lunch needs to be packed – and before I know it, it’s bedtime and I haven’t written so much as a word.

It should come easy. I spent four years in school learning to write and I’ve got five years’ experience writing for newspapers and magazines, yet somehow it’s so much easier for me to sit down at work and pump out 400 words on a musician or an entire column on pomegranates than it is for me to sit down and write for myself, which is, after all, what I spend all this time wanting to do.

At first I thought it was just writer’s block and that the dread that comes with staring at an empty page was just an unfortunate side effect of what I do. But upon closer inspection, I saw glaring examples of people around me letting the small stuff get in the way of their goals, too.

I see people staying in relationships because they’re scared of being single, or sticking it out at dead-end jobs because the idea of pushing themselves into something else seems like too much work. Or there’s my boyfriend, TJ, who insists that he needs to amass every possible piece of camera and lighting equipment before he can even power on his video camera to make a simple video.

It’s fear, yes, but there’s a comfort in sticking with what you know, even if it makes you terribly unhappy. Think back to the proudest moment of your life – chances are it didn’t happen because you stayed in your comfort zone.

So how do I get out of this funk? How do I get back to actually enjoying writing again and seeing it as a joy rather than a chore? I guess, like everything, I just have to do it, get it over with and then hope to God it gets easier the next time.

When I made these three low-sugar and low-fat granola recipes over a month ago (yep, it’s been that long), my boyfriend was openly skeptical. He took a bag to work out of desperation one morning when he didn’t have time to have breakfast, and halfway through the day, I got a text that read, simply, “make more.” The Pear & Walnut has become a favourite in our house, but I also like experimenting with whatever kind of dried fruit I can get my hands on at the bulk store – dried bananas, peaches, figs and mango are all great options.



Pear & Walnut Granola
Makes 3 to 4 cups.

1 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 cup chopped dried pears
1/2 cup walnut pieces
1/4 cup pepitas (aka shelled pumpkin seeds)
1/4 cup plus 3 tbsp pure maple syrup
1 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp sea salt

1. Preheat oven to 325˚F.
2. In a large bowl, mix oats, pears, walnuts and pepitas. In a small bowl, whisk maple syrup, oil and salt. Drizzle over oat mixture and stir to coat.
3. Spread mixture on a large parchment-lined baking sheet and bake, stirring every 5 minutes, until oats are golden, 20 to 25 minutes. Let cool completely. Store in an airtight container or bag for up to a week.

Apple Pie Granola
Makes about 3 cups.

1 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 cup chopped dried apples
1/2 cup sliced almonds or walnut pieces
3 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
4 tsp honey
1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/4 tsp sea salt
1/2 cup dried cranberries

1. Preheat oven to 325˚F.
2. In a large bowl, mix oats, apples, almonds, sugar and cinnamon. In a small bowl, whisk honey, vanilla and salt. Drizzle over oat mixture and stir to coat.
3. Spread mixture on a large parchment-lined baking sheet and bake until oats are golden, about 20 minutes. Let cool completely. Stir in cranberries. Store in an airtight container or bag for up to a week.

Coconut Papaya Granola
Makes about 3 cups.

1 cup rolled oats
1 cup chopped dried papaya
1/2 cup shredded dried coconut
1/4 cup honey
1 tbsp pure maple syrup
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/4 tsp sea salt

1. Preheat oven to 325˚F.
2. In a large bowl, mix oats, papaya and coconut. In a small bowl, whisk honey, maple syrup, oil, vanilla and salt. Drizzle over oat mixture and stir to coat.
3. Spread on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake, stirring every 5 minutes, until oats are golden, about 20 minutes. Let cool completely. Store in an airtight container or bag for up to a week.



Kale, Sweet Potato and Sausage Soup with White Beans

soup final

There are foods that sustain you, satiate and fulfill you. They can be delicious, hearty and satisfying – for some, it might be a creamy bowl of luscious pasta.

For me, it’s soup – soup tends to live in that same place in my heart as my Granny’s apple pie or my dad’s phenomenal weekend coffee. It’s not necessarily perfectly seasoned or cooked just right, but it soothes, comforts and ails in a way that makes everything seem alright, if even just for a spoonful.

It starts with the prep – I find comfort in the simple sautéeing of my favourite vegetables, followed by a quick deglaze with broth and some seasoning to hit that fine balance between salty and savory, hearty and slurp-worthy. Soup doesn’t ask for much; a quick simmer will do.

And then there’s that moment, that perfect second when your brimming ladle hits the bowl, offering up chunks of tender veggies, melt-in-your-mouth meat and full-bodied broth. It makes you wonder why you ever bother trying to make anything else, because this right here, this is the crescendo of comfort food.

I like this soup for its simplicity, but also for its use of seasonal ingredients in this blustery time of year. Kale and sweet potatoes are unbelievably bitter and sweet (and inexpensive!) during the winter months, and they really steal the show for vibrancy and flavour.

To round out this soup, I opted for simple ingredients I already had in my kitchen – sausage for oomph, mushrooms for flavour and white beans for extra creamy texture. You can go ahead and switch up the add-ins depending on what you have on hand, or you can make it vegetarian and double up on beans for extra filling protein and fiber. A curl of Parmesan is great as an indulgent garnish, but make it your own by playing around.

Kale, Sweet Potato and Sausage Soup with White Beans
Serves 4 to 5.

To dress up this simple soup, serve with crusty bread and fresh Parmesan.


1 tbsp olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
500 g uncooked mild sausage, casings removed and chopped into 1-inch chunks
1 cup sliced brown cremini mushrooms
2 small sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 cups chicken broth
3 to 4 cups chopped kale, stems and tough ribs removed
1 19-oz can white kidney or navy beans, drained and rinsed
Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste


1. In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat oil on medium. Add onion and sauté, stirring frequently, until translucent. Add garlic and sauté until fragrant, about 1 more minute.

2. Add sausage and sauté until browned. Stir in mushrooms and potatoes and sauté until mushrooms soften, about 4 minutes.

3. Add broth and 3 cups water. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook until potatoes are beginning to soften, about 10 minutes.

4. Stir in kale and beans and cook for 3 more minutes. Season with salt and pepper.



Maple Pecan Shortbread Cookies


Where I come from, spring is marked each year by the ritual tapping of trees.

It’s a silent act; you rarely see them attaching their rustic metal buckets to the maples that dot the roads and form the woods of the county. You’re lucky to catch them at work, collecting the golden sap that later ends up in shiny bottles on local store shelves.

It’s one of few true labours of love I’ve ever seen. It’s intensive, barely profitable and time-consuming, but I don’t think you’ll ever meet a sap-maker who’s ever so much as considered not tapping each spring. And if you’ve had the pleasure of tasting fresh, still-warm maple syrup, you’ll understand why they do it – it’s nature’s pure unadulterated caramel.

When I was a kid, one of the highlights of the spring thaw was visiting the sugar camps in the height of the season. They were always out in the middle of nowhere, at least an hour’s drive away, but the anticipation of it all made every agonizing mile stuck in the back seat of the car well worth it.

I remember the steam bursting from the boiling buildings, visible as soon as you got within a five-mile radius of the camp. If you rolled down the window, you could smell the air perfumed with sugar.

Most of all, I remember the maple syrup lollypops – these were the highlight of each trip. Workers would bring a simmering bucket of syrup out to a wooden block filled with fresh snow – they’d drizzle steaming sap over the ice crystals as us kids jammed wooden sticks into the gooey mixture, swirling them around madly to get as much sugary syrup as gravity would allow. We’d rush to jam the lollypops into our mouths before they cooled down too much – the heat, after all, was the best part.

I still love everything about maple syrup – the rich, smooth texture and bold earthy-sweet taste. And that smell – one whiff of it and I’m home. If life were easy, I’d swear I’d ditch the city in a flash and give it all away for a sugar camp.

It was during one of these maple sugar daydreams that I dreamt up this twist on the classic shortbread. Each cookie has just a hint of maple, but when combined with this super-easy maple syrup glaze, it’s like you’ve died and gone to a sugar camp.



Maple Pecan Shortbread Cookies
Makes 32 to 36 cookies.


3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 cup vegetable shortening, room temperature
1 1/2 cups icing sugar, sifted
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 – 1 1/2 tsp maple extract
1 egg plus 1 egg white
1 3/4 cup cake and pastry flour
1 3/4 cup bread flour
32 – 36 pecan halves

1/4 cup pure maple syrup
1/2 cup icing sugar


1. Preheat oven to 375˚F. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper.

2. In a stand mixer, cream butter and shortening until smooth. Gradually add sugar, stirring on low until light, fluffy and no lumps remain. Add maple extract and salt and stir until combined. Scrape down sides of bowl and gradually stir in eggs.

3. In a large bowl, sift flours. Gradually mix into batter until just combined. Working in batches, transfer batter to a piping bag fitted with a large star tip. Pipe batter in a tight, circular formation to form 1 1/2 inch-wide rosettes. Top with pecans and bake until bottoms are golden, 8 to 12 minutes.

(NOTE: If you’re not into piping, simply gather the dough into a ball, chill it for 30 minutes to an hour to firm up, then roll out and cut into 1/4-inch-thick rounds.)

4. Let cookies cool on sheets for 5 minutes, then transfer to wire racks to cool completely.

5. Prepare glaze: In a small saucepan, heat maple syrup on medium. Add to clean stand mixer and gradually mix in icing sugar until smooth and slightly thick. Let cool.

6. Once cookies and glaze are cool, transfer glaze to a re-sealable ziplock bag and seal tightly. Snip a small hole in one corner of bag. Using bag, drizzle glaze over cookies. Set aside until glaze is set.



Apple Pie Cookies

Historically, I haven’t been very good at taking care of myself. I eat well and I exercise, but I’ve never really paid attention to what I really need, which is something a little less superficial.

Because every once in a while, I feel myself slipping. It’s tempting to ignore, to pretend it’s not lurking there under the surface. A really good counselor once told me that I need to make appointments with myself. Write it in your day planner, she said. “7 pm – 7:45 pm: Read a book/watch tv/go for a walk. Whatever you want.”

Except I never did it. And here I am, six years later, still struggling with the same issues that brought her to give me that advice. So call this an early New Years’ resolution, or my own personal Happiness Project of sorts, but as of today, I’m going to take care of myself.

After much consideration, deliberation and flat-out day-dreaming, I have come to the conclusion that the key to keeping my sanity, staying cool and being myself lies within the following items/events/random compilation of things I like:

Evenings. I love ‘em. Cozy jammies, hot tea and a good book are heaven to me. For some reason, they never seem to feel as good when the sun’s out.

Cat Cuddles. If you’ve ever so much as ran into me on the subway platform, you probably gained from my fur-covered pea coat that I like to spend quality kitty time.

Writing. It should come as no surprise that writing is my therapy – there’s something cathartic about transforming the dozens of thoughts that race through my mind at once into words that I can organize into logical sense.

Water. I was born in what was literally called a “cottage” hospital beside the Gulf of St. Lawrence on Newfoundland’s north west coast. I grew up in a small town known for having the highest tides in the world. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to shake that intrinsic need to be near water, and I’ll never fully understand the sense of belonging that comes over me when I hear the sound of a tide lapping against a nearby rock.

Jodi Picoult. Yeah, yeah, she’s hardly Jane Austen, but I’ll be damned if I can put one of her books down once I’ve opened the paperback spine.

Mashed Potatoes. Only my boyfriend knows this about me, but when I’m really stressed, I’ve been known to fill a bowl with a heaping pile of mashed potatoes, gravy and as much cheese as I can rummage from the fridge – then microwave the lot until it’s greasy and bubbling. There is nothing better.

Apples. When I was a kid, I would buzz through these by the bushel. Some of my clearest memories are from visiting the apple stands that would dot the country road not far from where I grew up. The smell of the Jonagolds, Galas and Spartans would drive me into such a frenzy that my dad would have to pull over the car before we got home just to wash one off for me to eat right then and there.

Pie. What’s not to love about a flaky crust and warm juicy filling with a heaping, melting scoop of vanilla bean ice cream on top?

Cookies. There’s just something so irresistible about a dessert you can palm. I love them moist and chewy, with lots and lots of rich chocolate chunks.

So whether it’s enjoying an evening on my couch with a book (perhaps with a furry cat nestled on my lap) or taking a walk down to the lake, I’m going to make at least one of these things part of my everyday.

Which brings me to the topic of this post – to get a jumpstart on this daily task, I’ve compiled three of my absolute favourite things – apples, pie and cookies – into these adorable little treats.

I can’t take credit for the idea – they were inspired by the apple pie cookies at this cozy restaurant around the corner from my apartment called The Good Fork. If you’re ever in Toronto’s Bloor West Village, check them out. Or you can save yourself the trip and just make these pies yourself.

They’re a lot easier than they might look – once your dough is made and chilled, roll it out very thin. If it’s too thick, your cookies will be too dense, and that’s no fun. Then you punch out the circles, dollop some apple filling on top and cover with a second circle. Voila! Apple pie cookies!

Apple Pie Cookies
Makes 30 to 36 cookies.


5 1/4 cups flour, plus additional for dusting
1 tbsp plus 1/4 tsp sea salt, divided
2 tbsp plus 1/3 cup granulated sugar, divided
1 lb shortening, chilled
2 large eggs, divided
2 Gala apples, peeled and diced (1/4 inch)
1 tbsp cornstarch
2 tsp brown sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground clove


1. In a large bowl, whisk flour, 1 tbsp salt and 1 tbsp granulated sugar. With a pastry cutter, cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

2. In a small bowl or measuring cup, beat 1 egg and enough cold water to make 1 cup. Slowly add to flour mixture, mixing with a fork; add only enough liquid to make the pastry form a ball.

3. Turn pastry onto floured cutting board and knead until mixture is just smooth; do not over-mix. Divide into thirds and refrigerate for one hour.

4. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, combine apples, 1/3 cup granulated sugar, cornstarch, brown sugar, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, 1/4 tsp salt and clove, stirring to coat. Refrigerate until ready to use. (TIP: If refrigerating for a while, drizzle with a few drops of lemon to prevent apples from browning.)

5. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Dust work surface with flour. Roll one-third of dough about 1/8-inch thick. The dough should be thin and pliable, but thick enough to hold the filling. With a 2-inch round cookie cutter, punch out circles and transfer to parchment-lined baking sheets. Repeat with remaining dough.

6. In a small bowl, beat remaining 1 egg. To assemble cookies, spoon about 1 heaping tablespoon of apple mixture into center of 1 dough circle. Take a second dough circle and brush its underside edges with egg. Place over top of filling, pressing edges to seal. Push the tines of the back of a fork up against edges of cookie to seal completely. Cut 4 slits in top of cookie. Repeat with remaining dough circles and apple mixture.

7. Brush tops with egg and sprinkle with remaining 1 tbsp sugar. Bake for 25 minutes, until tops are golden. Let cool on sheets for 10 to 15 minutes, then transfer to wire racks.

I love them served warm with ice cream, but they’re a great on-the-go snack, too. Enjoy!


Nova Scotia Blueberry Pie

It’s hard to be easy on yourself.

Like most, I’ve long been aware of the fact that I truly am my worst critic. No one obsesses over my mistakes and translates them into failures quite as harshly as myself.

Case in point:

I’ve been having a hard time with school lately. Working full time and then rushing to class two nights a week is draining, and to be honest, I haven’t been enjoying chef school as much as I thought I would. It’s hard – really, really hard – in a way that I’m not used to. As it turns out, a liberal arts degree doesn’t really make you cut out for a hard-ass chef’s kitchen.

But this week was different. Despite my usual fretting and mad scrambling to get everything done on time for the chef, I received a really good compliment from him. Like really good.

After I got over my initial shock, I was elated. I danced in my car on the drive home from class. I cried a little. I actually believed that maybe going to chef school wasn’t just some frivolous pipe dream, but could actually lead to something I never thought myself capable of. I was, as I announced to my boyfriend that night, proud of myself.

And then something stupid happened. I’m not 100 per cent sure where it came from, but suddenly the idea popped in my head that maybe I hadn’t turned the gas oven off at school.

At this point, a normal person would probably brush the worry aside and go back to basking in their temporary glory.

But not me. I neurotically fixated on this minute detail, going through all of the nightmarish possibilities over and over until well past 1 am. Visions of the George Brown campus bursting into flames danced over my eyelids, but most of all, I pictured the chef peering down at me next class, taking back what he’d said that had made me feel so good.

It’s almost like a perverse denial of self-respect, like my mind couldn’t allow myself to be proud, so it desperately sought out some way to cloud my happiness. It’s frustrating, but sadly not something that’s by any means foreign to my psyche.

My mom is no stranger to this self-deprecating behavior. Despite being a successful overachiever, over the years I’ve watched her struggle with her own doubts and fears. So naturally, I knew who to call when I couldn’t shake this nagging feeling.

As expected, she knew exactly what I was going through, and had had a similar situation just last week. But what she said really stuck with me. Probably because it was true.

We don’t let ourselves accept compliments when we don’t think we deserve them, she said. We find some way to negate the positive, some justification for our own feelings of self-doubt.

Most of the successful people I know suffer from this, so I guess in a way I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for being hard on myself. But nonetheless, if you have any pointers for getting over this – or at the very least, pushing them aside in order to sleep at night – I’d love to hear them.

This recipe comes from my mom, who’s aptly from Nova Scotia. Every fall, she hauls out her classic old Nova Scotia recipe book and automatically thumbs her way to the blueberry-spattered page. It’s a favourite of mine too, especially since it’s such a simple dessert to throw together when you’re busy trying to get dinner on the table.

Nova Scotia Blueberry Pie
Serves 8 to 10.


1/4 cup flour
2/3 cup white sugar
4 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 9-inch unbaked deep dish pie shell

1/2 cup flour
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup butter, cold, cubed

Whipped Cream (optional)
1 cup heavy whipping cream (35%)
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp white sugar, or to taste


1. Preheat oven to 425˚F.

2. In a large bowl, add 1/4 cup flour, white sugar and blueberries, stirring to coat berries. Stir in lemon juice and transfer to pie shell.

3. Prepare topping: In a medium bowl, combine 1/2 cup flour, brown sugar and cinnamon. With a pastry blender, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs, rubbing between your fingers if needed. Pack over berry mixture.

4. Bake for 20 minutes. Reduce heat to 350˚F and bake for 45 to 50 more minutes. (NOTE: If using fresh blueberries, bake for 10 to 15 minutes less.)

5. Prepare whipped cream: In a medium bowl, use an electric hand mixer to whip cream, vanilla and sugar until stiff peaks form. Taste for sweetness and adjust as desired. Serve over pie.