Mme Cora's letter

It was so beautiful out! I didn’t cook today. It was simply too beautiful outside, almost like a summer’s day. Instead of my usual nature walk, I went off to wander the streets of a new residential development in my area. It was such a delight to come across other long-distance walkers, runners dressed in colourful leggings, dogs of all sizes, many pulling their owner behind them at the other end of a leash. I saw an old couple fastened to each other to make walking easier, three teens throwing the last snowballs of the year at each other. I especially loved the children walking in a single file behind their parent, the little ones wobbling along on scooters, the baby tucked in a pretty pouch slung over a father’s shoulders or another snuggled against a young mother’s chest. I thrilled at the veritable concert of birds singing loudly from a bare maple tree as if to catch my attention. Believe it or not, I applauded them. Clap! Clap! Clap! I was also perhaps unconsciously applauding the tenacious and irrepressible life in front of me, defiant gestures in the face of uncertainty. And as I wandered the streets, drawn along by the repetitive patterns of the home’s almost identical façades, I suddenly had the impression of being in an art gallery. Because everywhere, pictures of rainbows were displayed in the windows. Beautiful, brightly coloured rainbows, each one accompanied by the now famous line “It’s going to be okay” written in attractive letters. IT’S GOING TO BE OKAY… After the storm comes the sunshine. This realization fell over me like a gentle mercy. The certainty that life post-virus will bring something positive to each one of us. For those toddlers, who will take their first steps, for the teens, who will be off to university or the runners, who will likely enjoy a long and healthy life. And for me, who will learn how to keep a cool head, live better and incorporate the lessons learned from these trying times into my daily life. In my heart, I have already signed my pact with Solitude (a nod to Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, 1967) and I am happy to honour to it. I love all of life’s different sides, especially the “inexhaustible imagination” that I have still to express before I leave this world. So many words and sentences to seed between the lines so a story can spring to life. Like the roots, branches and buds who wait patiently for the ripe fruit to appear. The end of our confinement will be the perfect time to invent a better version of our lives. For me, I will continue to keep my distance… from overworking, empty chit-chat, meaningless ties and vain distractions that close us off from our own happiness.     For the few decades I have left remaining, I want to embrace life as it comes. Bending down to smell the flowers, running my hands over the rough bark of trees, writing poems to birds and crying when a cloud erases the sun.   Here’s to staying stoic and creative.   ❤️ Cora The flowers heads bent whisper to the ants.

Wanting it all, all the time. Am I the only one who misses dressing up in a chic outfit for an important occasion? The only one to think that this terrible, persistent idleness is beginning to dim the smile on their face? The only one who is afraid that their mind is becoming dull without any challenges to keep it sharp? To imagine that their vivacious spirit may be a little less spirited the longer this situation lasts? With no more duties to perform as Cora’s founder, absent from strategic meetings and deprived of the satisfaction of contributing to our post-COVID-19 future, the question “who am I?” keeps tapping me on my shoulder.    My mind even briefly protested why it should be me who is home-bound while the assassin still dances in the street.     There are lessons that we can all take from this global crisis. The first being the cruel reminder that bad things can happen unannounced at any time. A catastrophe like today’s that has turned our worlds upside-down and taken the lives of 200,000 people in a matter of months, the time it takes for the late-winter snow to disappear. Given our egocentric natures and desire to have it all, all the time, are we ready to reflect on other lessons offered by the current situation? Instead of getting down, should we instead detach ourselves from our titles and jobs to redefine who we are? Without our accomplishments and possessions, all the usual trappings we identify with, what remains of who we are?   Alone by myself here or together at your home with loved ones, let’s really give it some thought. To help keep your fingers from getting stiff, I’m sharing a recipe that is as simple as it is flavourful. This homemade tzatziki is a wonderful condiment to accompany your chicken brochettes or Saturday night lamb chops. Peel a fresh, plump cucumber and slice lengthwise in half. Using a teaspoon, gently scrape away the seeds. Thinly grate the 2 pieces of cucumber over a clean dishcloth. Roll up the cloth (the cucumber tucked inside, of course) and twist to wring out the vegetable’s water. In a medium-sized bowl, add 500 ml of sour cream and 500 ml of plain Greek yogurt. Mix together with 3-4 finely minced garlic cloves. Add the cucumber, stir and place in the fridge. For smaller households, simply cut the quantities by half (250 ml quantities, a medium-sized cucumber and less garlic).   If I have some on hand, I top up the flavour with a little finely chopped fresh dill. A batch of this delicious sauce is the perfect excuse to accompany your meal with a Greek salad. Combine a few tasty, ripe tomatoes, fresh cucumber, thinly sliced red onions, fresh bell peppers, black olives and some good feta. Toss everything with olive oil and red wine vinegar, and then garnish with parsley and a little fresh or dried oregano. "Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.” – Albert Einstein. Thankful for your company throughout these trying times, ❤️ Cora

Talk about a life change. It’s 11:20 on a sunny, beautiful Monday morning and I’ve just gotten out of the bath. It’s far removed from my usual routine where I should be busy at work, either attending a marketing meeting, seeing a supplier or thinking about a pressing issue seated at my desk. Instead, here I am, with the sun high in the sky, with absolutely nothing to do but have a bath, put on my comfy sweats and sit down to type away in search of a little human connection, other than a selfie. The day started out in an unexpected way too: At dawn, I was stirring jam. That’s right, more papaya jam! Because yesterday, a generous stranger dropped off three of them on my porch. As you can already guess, the fruit’s flesh spent the night in the fridge, and by 8 a.m., it was dancing away on a hot stove. If only each one of you lived close by so I could offer you a taste!     The current upheaval has put many of us out of work. So what could be more timely than a delicious poor man’s pudding to bring a smile back to our faces. Here is my all-time favourite version, taken from the Guide de la Cuisine Traditionnelle Québécoise: In a pot, mix 2 cups of brown sugar, 2 knobs of butter, 1½ cups of tap water and a few drop of vanilla extract. Bring to a boil and remove from the heat. Transfer syrup to a large oven-proof dish. In a bowl, beat together 2 good-sized knobs of butter, a ½ cup of sugar and an egg. Add 1 cup of flour, sifted with 2 tsp. of baking powder, alternating with a ½ cup of milk. Place the dough in the syrup. Cook in the oven for about 30 minutes at 350°F. Get ready for the perfect pick-me-up to dispel low spirits! This dessert is satisfyingly rich but costs very little. In 1987, way back when we first started out, I would serve helpings of this poor man’s pudding to workers seated at the restaurant’s counter. It was so good, they all wanted to marry me! I should have accepted one of those offers. I wouldn’t be this youthful old lady today with 3 papayas on the porch. Thank you to all of you, my dear readers, for keeping me company. My ❤ to you all! Cora

I will humbly admit it: my eyes are bigger than my stomach! It’s a little weakness I’ve long been aware of. At the pizza counter, I’ll order three large all-dressed slices knowing full well that I am going to eat only half. Or a big club sandwich buried under a huge helping of the world’s best fries, a good portion of which will stay on my plate. I love ordering well-cooked meat, even if a few chops or sausages will likely go untasted. And I always order a dessert, simply so I can enjoy a spoonful. I blame my curiosity. It also has eyes bigger than my needs; I want to discover how each dish is made. And when I bite into something especially delicious, I inevitably try to reproduce the same delight at home. During these days of self-isolation, I am discovering or improving recipes in my kitchen daily. And I love it, I love the satisfaction of perfecting, in every area.   I have 4-5 pairs of round glasses I enjoy switching between, 5 yellow tops in my wardrobe cupboard because I like the colour, and so many scarves, headbands and handmade wristbands that I almost don’t have enough space to keep them. I guess I’ve always thought big; I overestimate my needs. Shopping is my favourite fun activity because again, my curiosity trumps my reasoning. Same goes for the pile-up of projects in my head. My enthusiasm means more projects than my mental highway was made for. Like a moth to a light, everything that is new to me is irresistible.    After all, isn’t life a great feast, there for our enjoyment and discovery? Have no fear, I am digging in! My appetite for living is also oversized. Life is a vast self-serve buffet of possibilities that I avail myself of like a young-at-heart old woman who is still hungry and curious. During these weeks of self-isolation, we have more time to dream with our eyes wide open, to revisit our shopping lists at life’s buffet of possibilities. Delight your loved ones with drawings of I ❤ YOU and surprise them with dishes you cook up using whatever you find in the kitchen cupboards.  I’ll help you get started, with this delicious recipe for homemade custard that a little girl who knows how to use a mixer could easily make herself. In a medium-sized bowl, add the contents of a small box of instant Jell-O Vanilla Instant Pudding and 2 cups of milk. Mix together until thick. In another bowl, thoroughly beat 1 cup of 35% cream. Add to the bowl of pudding and mix well. Transfer to a container, cover and set in the fridge to chill. Enjoy with your favourite dessert or on a crêpe filled with banana slices or fresh strawberries. I guarantee you that this homemade treat will light up smiles around the table. It’s amazing how easy happiness is when you put your mind (and imagination) to it. It’s true for me – illustrating my little secrets gives me so much pleasure! Sending you all my ❤, Cora

Thank goodness I watched Avatar again last evening. And yes, happily the good side won. Because after coming back from a midday walk yesterday, I felt as if Gorgons* with hair of living serpents had launched an attack on my world. Stepping into the house, I immediately sensed that these dreadful creatures had very likely taken hold of my mind, were sprawled all over the sofas, devouring my food and amusing themselves as they tried on my colourful scarves hanging in the entranceway. Yet instead of feeling fearful, a heavy depression hit me. A sharp sense of dejection, like burnt breakfast potatoes on the stove. All afternoon, I turned in circles like a lioness in a cage. Aimlessly starting then stopping things. I was uselessness. I was good for nothing and at loose ends. I dearly missed my usual activities, my colleagues, my children, their children, my wonderful great grandson, and even (I’ll confess!), a mistaken sense of self-importance that I felt prior to this pandemic.   This nasty virus will likely give most of us a solid kick to our high pedestals. Well, good! Not such a bad thing for the braggers and wasters, the self-centred and reckless of this world.   James Cameron’s cinematic tour de force moved me deeply yesterday. The tall Na’vi of the Omaticaya clan may belong to an ideal fictional world that exists only on the screen, but their basic values are ones we should all strive to live by. So I’m writing to you in a cheerful mood this morning. I’m knitting together a new me. A core of wool as strong and courageous as before, with dozens of new hands to help, to give, to care, to create connections, to cook, to draw, to write and to applaud. Thank you for being there with me. I’m doing fine now. Cora *In Greek mythology, the Gorgon sisters were terrifying monsters who lived in Tartarus.

I am often asked what my favourite breakfast is. Each time I reply without a second thought: The Spinach-cheddar crêpe It’s just as delicious as the Ham-Swiss cheese crêpe, the Banana-chocolate or any other one on the menu. Yet, Spinach-cheddar is still my number one, because of what it means for me.   Let me explain. One day, way back in 1987 when we were first starting out, my son interrupted me as I was chopping up fresh spinach and adding it to some crêpe batter.  – “No, mom, you can’t do that.” – “And why can’t I? I am going to make a big spinach crêpe and grate some good cheddar on top. It’s going to be delicious.” – “No, mom, people don’t eat spinach for breakfast. It’ll be impossible to sell.” – “Let’s see what happens,” I answered, as I continued mixing the spinach into the crêpe batter. I spread it onto the hot griddle and let it cook, flipping after a few minutes. Next, I grated a generous helping of aged cheddar on top, folded it and let it cook a little longer to allow the ingredients to happily mingle together. To serve this delicious flavour match-up, I chose my most attractive plate from my hodgepodge of dishes.     That “impossible” crêpe is still today the most popular savoury crêpe in Canada.  And that’s exactly why it is my favourite – because each time someone mentions it, I remember that when you apply a little creativity, nothing is impossible. So… For all of you who got busy and made crêpes after my last message, go for it. Be bold and adventurous! Add to your batter some small granola chunks, finely chopped kale, chia seeds, ground pistachios, toasted coconut, crispy bacon bits or any other ingredient that inspires you. You might just become like me: a home apprentice who comes up with an unforgettable crêpe. Be sure to name it, and if you have time, take a picture of it. Of course, choosing a good cheese (preferably local) is key. Where I live, we like OKA, Le Pionnier and Le Mamirolle. Psst... send me a photo of your delicious flavour match-up if you like. These days, I have all the time in the world! Cora

Twenty days have already passed since I isolated myself in my Laurentian home, where I have lived for the last 30 years. I am surrounded by thousands of books, including at least 100 books on food and cooking. Besides the volumes of books, you will also find green plants here and there, a few sofas strategically placed in front of large windows and, the king of the manor, a huge 4-oven gas-powered stove (as nearly as old as me!) that is my long-time partner in my cooking adventures. I am constantly experimenting with new recipe ideas at home, the best of which find their way onto breakfast menus. Inquisitive and creative by nature, it’s no surprise that my passion in life is to offer Canadians the most amazing breakfasts in the world! Though I can now rely on an entire team of specialists to create new dishes, I still get a thrill out of spending time in the kitchen exploring ideas.  I bet you’d love to treat your household to some delicious homemade crêpes garnished with your favourite fruit. Well, here’s a quick recipe you can use. - Place some flour in a large bowl (about 2-3 cups depending on the number of mouths to feed). - Add about 2 cups of milk and whisk together until smooth. - Add 2 or 3 eggs and stir. - Add a drizzle of oil, a pinch of salt and a heaping spoonful of TLC. - Pour the batter into a large jug, cover and set in the fridge while you set the table. Give it a try and be sure to adjust quantities to suit the number of people you are cooking for. Don’t forget to serve with maple syrup – it’s the season after all. At our house, we make our own syrup flavoured with vanilla. A little heads-up if you feel like trying this too. Homemade syrup is similar to the papaya jam I wrote about yesterday. It takes “smart” fingertips, plus a plump vanilla pod. Now I’m hungry! Cora

Oh boy! Most of us are entering our third week of self-isolation, limiting our contact with the outside world. I am staying safe and closely following the terrible spread of the coronavirus. Never could I have imagined the drama we are currently living through, and yet, it is unfolding right before our eyes… in our empty streets, in our schools that have fallen silent, in our shuttered businesses and even in our own homes that have been transformed into safe bunkers to keep an elusive enemy at bay. What can we do to stay positive? To keep busy and to hold on to the belief that “it’s going to be okay”? Colouring rainbows, creating new cookies for the kids, perfecting a more flavourful pork chop sauce, reading about making jam or brushing up on our bread-making skills. Well, perhaps I might share with you what a busy white-haired lady like myself does when she no longer has anything important to do?     This afternoon, for example, after returning from my walk in nature, where life is springing back, I gently cooked a new papaya jam. Papayas that I had carefully washed with a kitchen brush, peeled and deseeded, before finely dicing them. The papayas’ sweet flesh spent the night in the fridge covered in three-quarters of its weight in sugar. I was excited to try a new recipe and especially curious to see how it would turn out. Getting comfortable on a stool I had placed in front of the stove, I watched the mixture as it simmered. Despite being on low, I had to skim big milky bubbles from the surface a few times. Gently stirring with a wooden spoon, I waited until the small, hot bits of papaya became clear, bulging at the centre and thickening in perfect harmony with the syrup that was neither too runny or sticky. I trust my fingers more than my eyes to tell me when it’s time to turn off the heat. Simply by touching a few drops of syrup flicked onto a saucer, I can tell that the jam is going to be delicious. Stay safe, Cora