I do breakfast

After reading my November 24 letter, Carmen Jobin, a loyal reader, reminded me that maybe it was time I revisited my bucket list. I’d written about it last August in my letter entitled “Before I turn off my heart,” but I’ll gladly tell you about it again. Thank you, dear Carmen! It’s certainly a good time, maybe the last occasion, to rack my brain in search of some gentle excitement! My mind works at full steam, but it’s often my darned kneecaps that prevent me from moving. During the fall season and all through winter, I wear nice knitted wool socks. I used to knit them myself, but these days, I’d rather save my precious fingers and keep them for typing on the iPad. For a while now, especially when I’m watching television, I notice that my stalwart toes have the tendency to curl around each other. I write, seated at my large kitchen table, the oven giving off smoke in front of me. Did I forget the frozen pizza? Ten times a day, I lose my reading glasses. Have I been to the mailbox this week? I forget to take my vitamins every second day or so. I never should have said it out loud. All these small holes in my memory are adding up and it has my charming daughter worried. It seems like my fingers are my body’s only truly reliable soldiers. Standing at attention or hiding between the lines, they always have nice things to recount. So, dear Carmen, does this old woman really feel like revisiting her bucket list? Maybe I should forget about my aches and pains and consider a few road trips since I love driving so much. I’d love to tour my native Gaspésie once or twice more. To see the whales, converse with the seagulls and, mostly, to fill my head with new memories. I’m also planning to visit our two Cora restaurants located in Newfoundland. I could stay there for a few days and take some time to visit the large island, Gros Morne National Park, and Bonavista, the small fishermen’s village and its collection of small brightly coloured houses scattered along the rocky coastline. I can’t forget Cape Spear Lighthouse and the famous humpback whale I still haven’t seen. Why not go back to Boston, revisit Quincy Market, the New England Aquarium, Cambridge and the illustrious Harvard University where I was once invited to give a talk? When I was younger, I dreamt of going to Iceland where my favourite authors reside. I even looked up how to get there just a few days ago, but I hesitate. I weigh the pros and cons. I don’t know on which foot to dance. For so many years, I was the one who gave orders. What’s happening to me? My mind elaborates a getaway, and my poor heart enjoys the sweet yellow flesh of a mango. Dear Carmen, maybe I could forget about my list and reflect upon what I still like? In this bookish house I so cherish, there are three couches in which I disappear, sometimes in one, sometimes in the other, carried away by a gripping story. I bless all the trees that surround me; I fuss over the lupines, with their spectacular colours, in the summertime. I transplant them here and there around my two porches as if I were living in their native paradise, on Prince Edward Island. I also love each season, which I find as beautiful as the masterpieces of the great artists. I sincerely appreciate the crows, my best friends who caw, coo and squawk and who always seem to be taking good care of me. I simply adore the language of poetry, especially the very short poems called haikus. For nights on end, I calculate each line, each word, and it eases my mind. Of the few countries I’ve had the pleasure to travel to, I most prefer Italy (2004). There I visited Rome and the Vatican, where I admired Michelangelo’s work of art on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel from close up. I'll never forget it: God stretching out his finger to Adam to give him the spark of life. A few years later, I found a sublime reproduction, at a very good price, which has hung above my bed ever since. In Norway (June 2006), I had to purchase a big bag to bring back a large quantity of the country’s well-known pure wool that I had bought. That winter, I knitted scarves and mittens in assorted colours for everyone. Another year I walked several kilometres on the Great Wall of China, which runs some 9,000 kilometres. The construction of this imposing barrier began around 220 BC under the Qin dynasty. I also visited Japan in the spring, when the cherry trees don their floral coats. It’s the most beautiful sight in the world. I’ve visited so many countries. Where will I go tomorrow? I often go to the movies and once in a blue moon a show. When I'm feeling a little gloomy, I call on my memory and it always offers me a plateful of good memories. Cora ❤️

Caramel, caramel, you spin me like a carousel! I certainly don’t have a sweet tooth, but I adore caramel. Truth is, I’ve always regarded caramel as a precious elixir, an extra-special treat, much like the chocolate crafted by Quebec’s own Geneviève Grandbois or the celebrated baba au rhum. A specialty so rarified that I would never attempt to make it myself. In 2020, confined at home, I discovered the virtues of DIY ingenuity and creativity. I realized that there is great satisfaction to be had in devoting oneself to a subject and bringing it to life or improving upon it. Manual work quietens my mind and uplifts my heart. Putting our hands to work gives us enjoyment, but there is also the joy of contemplating the creation itself. Whether a delicious raspberry pie, a pretty fabric mask, a plateful of fudge, a splendid drawing or a woven ring of flowers to crown our head. They all give happiness. It’s as if tinkering here and there, doing things for ourselves fills us with a whole bunch of well-being hormones. All these hours of contented creative concentration have generated so much enthusiasm! To take my mind off things during this period of isolation, I transplanted celery stalks to sprout fresh ones, drew owls, decorated the house, strung pearls together into pretty necklaces and bracelets, I wrote you letters each week, and, of course, I tried new recipes. While flipping through an old food magazine that talked about caramel, I puffed up my chest and told myself I too was capable of making caramel. I looked through several recipe books in search of a recipe. There turned out to be many, and none of them were exactly the same. Some said to add corn syrup to white sugar with a few drops of lemon juice; others to use brown sugar instead of white sugar; and others to add water and cream to the sugar and finish with a little butter. Feeling a bit bewildered, I called Éric, my old friend who’s a chef. He suggested a pinch of potato starch to thicken it. At that point, I began to suspect that caramel is like shepherd’s pie or Christmas tourtière – everyone has their own version, and theirs is the best in the world! Caramel is an addictive treat that entices and comforts. It’s only when you apply heat and the sugar begins to burn that the colour, texture and flavour turn exquisite. It’s amazing how this caramel came to have so much meaning for me. Maybe because I finally dared to try it, believing in my ability to do it well. Perhaps that’s the magical ingredient in any concoction: to have the confidence that we are capable of creating our own life, each in our own way, with our own ingredients. I’ve concluded that caramel is a little like life: a dangerous and addictive adventure, yet so seductive. Like life itself, the best caramel is the one for which we choose the ingredients, attentively maintain the heat and gently savour at home. I’ve loved caramel ever since I first tasted it as a child biting into an apple dipped in the sweet sauce. I’d never dared to make it though, and you only have my word that it’s delicious. I was proud that I plucked up my courage to attempt such a rare treat and overcome my fear of failure. According to my taste buds, this is the world’s best caramel, but only because of what it means to me. So here’s my version of the best caramel in the world! Pour about 2 cups of white sugar into a medium-sized saucepan on low heat. Gently stir with a whisk until the sugar becomes liquid and begins to boil and slowly brown. When it reaches the desired colour, add a cup of slightly warm 35% M.F. cream and a heaping teaspoon of cornstarch mixed with a little bit more of the warm cream. Mix until fairly thick and remove from the heat. Allow to cool (try placing the saucepan in a snowbank or at least in the fridge) and give yourself a pat on the back for daring. Enjoy! Cora ❤️

As you already know, we opened our very first Cora restaurant in May 1987 and it was an immediate hit. The weekends were especially memorable: the infernal congestion of cars looking for a spot in the tiny parking lot. Families, amazed by what they had heard or mesmerized by descriptions of certain dishes, ran to join the lineup of customers that encircled the building where we occupied the first floor. At the back of the kitchen, my eyes skimmed over the hubbub of the 29-seat space to the bay window at the front, where I could hear the excited clamour of the crowd eager to enter. For a laugh, I’d sometimes whisper to the kids that we were like some creatures on show at an amusement park with six fingers on each hand and hair down to our feet. My youngest would always get annoyed at my dumb imagination, and of course, because they were the only teens whose mom made them work every weekend of their lives. Thank goodness, the crowd wasn’t there to gawk at us, but rather to marvel at what was on their plates. They came to see for themselves if it really was as extraordinary as the rumours. As time passed, the need to offer new items to delight our customers became an ongoing challenge, so we put together a small group of people who were “nuts about food.” We would get together once in a while to whip up some ideas. Nothing was off the table, as long as the new dishes rekindled some childhood memory that still lingered on our tongues. And that’s how, one morning, the beautiful, tall Annie, athletic and lively, arrived to tell us about the story of the famous grilled cheese her mom used to make her when she was little, accompanied by a bowl of Campbell’s tomato cream soup. It was her favourite meal, she declared, her voice trembling slightly. I wanted to know more, but Annie remained mum. We focused on the idea of a grilled cheese that would be so delicious, it would make the rain stop. For the next few weeks, we tested a thousand and one ways to glorify this grilled sandwich and turn it into an amazing meal full of goodness. A simple dish to enjoy as is, accompanied by attractively cut fruit or potatoes crisped on the griddle. A dish that, when made at home, would increase the astonishment at the table fourfold. As a young girl who ate codfish five days a week, served up boiled, pan-roasted, in nuggets, salted or topped with white sauce, Annie’s grilled cheese made my heart cry. Among the best attempts the team presented, I leaned towards the version that we would eventually christen the “TUNA MELT.” Imagine a sandwich sizzling happily away on a hot griddle or in a pan, its belly stuffed with a generous helping of canned tuna perfectly mixed with sliced green onions and just a touch of mayonnaise. Add two beautiful slices of yellow cheese, each one hugging the bread and preventing the fish from slipping from its hideaway. Imagine the first mouthful releasing an explosion of flavours. The tuna’s flesh mixing with the hot, tasty cheese, running onto your fingers. Feel the thrill to your taste buds, the rustling of your memory as it recalls the irresistible draw of forbidden fruit. Of course, you can choose the type of bread as well as the DNA of your cheese. Your little ones will gobble down this simple grilled-cheese sandwich – especially if served with a delicious canned vegetable cream soup or even some chicken and rice soup. With a little creativity, a heat source and a sprinkling of love, you’ll most certainly transform these two staples, bread and cheese, into a true culinary masterpiece. You too will be able to metamorphose this plain grilled cheese into a dazzling meal for your loved ones. The possible garnishes are infinite! “Once familiar and comforting, delicate and refined, the grilled cheese is a sandwich with multiple facets that’s always irresistible, whatever form it takes.” Cora ❤️ Psst: I add a little finely chopped celery to the garnish because it adds a pleasing crunch-crunch to the texture, and also because I’m crazy about celery. I put it everywhere!