Food and Drink

The first "date" my "husband" and I went on – and I use both terms loosely – was a picnic, at his suggestion.

I was truly impressed, not only because of its built-in romanticism, but also because he offered to make the whole darned thing. To this day, we still laugh about it, for it was a picnic like no other.

Not that it really mattered what we ate, we were so ga-ga over each, but the whole thing was meat. Alongside a babbling brook in a woodsy glen in the Duffey Lake corridor, he carefully unpacked and arranged on a blanket three containers: one of spicy Thai chicken, one of marinated salmon, and one of blackened Cajun-style wings (I guess he had to use up the parts left over from the Thai chicken). Oh, and a couple of slices of bread.

Nary a fruit nor vegetable had so much as touched the inside of that thermal picnic bag. Luckily, I was prescient enough to have brought my own water bottle along.

Regardless, the whole affair was delicious and impressive, all the more so because it was an unusually hot May that year and you knew he had spent more than a few hours over an equally hot stove the day before.

Therein lies the magic of good cold food on a hot summer’s day, or anytime.

Given its detachment from the mundane reality of measuring spoons, dirty food processors and empty spice bottles, it seems almost mystical. It’s as though a sepulchral great-aunt has drifted into your kitchen and slaved away unbeknownst to you, leaving behind no dirty dishes and a platter of delectable cold cuts or bean salad before quietly slipping out the back door.

The queen of gourmands, M.F.K. Fisher, once said that a whole, perfectly roasted chicken, with its breast done to a golden brown, stashed in the fridge for you to pick at made you richer than having a ton of money in the bank. It’s also much easier to secure.

I’m also big on cold roast chicken, or turkey, and have been since I was a kid. A school lunch of roast chicken sandwiches made with a light skim of mayo, too much cranberry sauce, and lots of salt and pepper and lettuce were my idea of heaven.

And there’s nothing wrong with cold roast pork you can chisel away at, or a big container of home-made potato salad or sliced beets that turn into an instant side dish or snack with a drizzle of horseradish or the mustard-based dressing described below.

James Beard was always big on cold food for picnics or easy summer meals. He grew up on the Oregon coast and family and friends would often trudge out to the beach and enjoy cold poached fish, or clams and crabs harvested from the ocean the day before.

One of his favourite dishes was to take Cornish game hens, poach them in chicken broth and cool them until they were tepid, then serve them on a platter with a border of sliced or shredded raw vegetables – such as carrots, cucumber and celery – that had been marinated in a vinaigrette sauce.

One cold vegetable people often overlook is beets. Try roasting them, wrapped in foil, on a pan in a 350-dregree oven for about an hour. You can store them in the fridge, then peel, slice and serve with a dressing anytime.

Or you can grate them raw (wash and peel them first, of course) and serve with your favourite dressing or a small dollop of horseradish. How easy is that? Their pungent, earthy flavour makes a perfect counterpoint to cold roasted meats.

Halibut season is upon us and one of the easiest cold dishes is to poach a couple of fresh steaks in a court bouillon for fish. Boil a quart of water with one small onion stuck with a couple of whole cloves, a slice or two of lemon, a couple of sprigs of parsley, 1.5 teaspoons of salt, four or five peppercorns and half a bay leaf. Add a half-cup of vinegar for a vinegar court bouillon if you like. Simmer your halibut for 15 minutes.

If you poach a couple of extra steaks, you can have some for dinner that night and then chill the others for future cold meals. Shred the flesh with a bit of good mayo and fresh lemon for halibut salad sandwiches on a fresh baguette. So good. Salmon is great this way, too.

One of the important points of planning a cold meal that Beard emphasizes is, unlike my dear husband’s first picnic for us, to serve a variety of textures and flavours. If you have cold meat or fish, counterpoint it with a crisp green salad. Consider creamy yogurt dips, or a cold soup.

If you’re having guests at home for a cold supper, then you’ve done most of the work beforehand like that mystical great-aunt, so try something contrasting like a hot fruit soufflé for dessert (they’re much easier to make that you might think).

Top it off with a chilled white wine or light fruity red and you’ve got yourself a magically easy meal with little fuss.

Beets in mustard vinaigrette (from Dr. Andrew Weill)

1 pound beets

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

3 tbsp. prepared mustard, preferably whole grain or Dijon

1 medium onion, chopped

Salt to taste

3 tbsp. red wine vinegar

Roast the beets as described above, or boil them. Cut the tops off, leaving an inch of stems. Place them in cold water to cover, bring to a boil, reduce heat and boil until they can be pierced with a sharp knife, about 45-60 minutes. For the dressing, place the mustard in a bowl. Whisk in the vinegar, then the olive oil until the sauce is smooth and creamy. Add the onions. When the beets are done, submerge in cold water until they are cool enough to handle. Cut off the roots and tops and slip off the skins. Slice and mix with the mustard sauce. Marinate in the fridge for at least 24 hours. Before serving, mix well and add salt to taste. Or you can add the sauce to sliced beets as you like.