A French Canadian Kitchen

Seamus, Grandma and I spent the day celebrating our Quebecois heritage.  During her childhood my mom learned how to cook many family favourites from her Nanny and Tante Jane.  

Nanny and Aunt Jane

Two recipes that play a particularly prominent role in my childhood memories of visiting Aunt Jane in Montreal are pate de foie gras and maple fudge.  She always had these two treats on hand.

Aunt Jane as she looked throughout my childhood.

Sadly, the taste for pate de foie skipped a generation - this specialty does not float my boat.  Ian's appreciation for it, on the other hand, is one of the many things that endears him to my family.  When he hunted Sandy this past fall, Ian very specifically saved her liver for Mom so that she could make  Sandy Pate de Foie Gras a la Nanny and Tante Jane.

There is something so satisfying about working from an old handwritten recipe.
It creates a feeling of connection between you and the recipe's creator.

The first (and absolutely most disgusting) step in making pate de foie is to grind up the liver.  

Sandy the deer's liver.  Yum or yuck.  You decide.

Oh boy.   The liver slime-ification process is so gross.  

Even Seamus cannot bear to watch.

Once mixed, it looks much less yucky.

Seamus is more than happy to beat the egg.  What a good helper.

After cooking for a long time in the double boiler...

...we finally got there.  Now Grandma will just cool it, whip it, and package it in small portions.

We will soon have a very happy Ian on our hands.

If she could remember, Aunt Jane would be so proud.  

Mom promised to show Aunt Jane the photos during their next visit to see if they jog any recollections of her own pate de foie making days. You never know, they just might.  It is a pretty unforgettable process!