soupnancy

Post Mushroom Week of Treats

2006-11-20

Now that I’ve come down from my mushroom high, and I am catching my breath, happily, I am finding a bit of time to indulge myself. Albeit without much of a break, I still managed to make this a week of treats, knowing that I have to nab the moments before the rush of Christmas parties begins.

Starting with Sunday, to celebrate our success, as well as our first day off in a month, François des bois and I decided to take ourselves out for dinner. We were exhausted, but wanted to eat well and to be served, but without too much fanfare. François had a big slab of meat in mind, and I was in the mood for fish; we both agreed that a nice bottle of wine was in order. We wanted no foie gras or sweetbreads, definately no tasting menu. So off we went on our quest for our reward. However, without driving into Montreal, the pickings are slim as far as good restaurants go, especially on a Sunday. We settled on Derrière les Fagots in Ste-Rose (Laval). It was in this parking lot that we shared our first kiss 3 (or maybe 4?) years ago. Aw shucks.

So, we’re feeling warm and fuzzy as we walk into the nicely lit, peaceful dining room, where the tables are large, linened and generously spaced apart, the chairs are comfortable, the servers warm yet professional. He orders a bloody caesar, and I a glass of champagne. So far so perfect. Until we pick up the menus and realize that it will be difficult to eat simply here. This is a fancypants place, and they know us. And so our battle with the chef begins. Of course, he won out (chefs usually do) and a 7 + course tasting menu with wine pairing ensued, foie gras, sweetbreads and all. At least, François got his beef, and I my fish, but we had to wade our way through umpteen precious little conconctions beforehand. Don’t get me wrong, the food was lovely. We enjoyed the veal cheek amuse and the tuna in a glass with daikon, oyster mushroom, and a yogurt sesame foam; I especially enjoyed the mackerel with coco bean purée, chorizo, raisins and almond. The sweetbreads were very “cochon” with butternut squash, bacon, arugula, Comté and truffle, but delicious. The first dessert, a coconut thingee with pineapple and passionfruit (again in a glass) was refreshingly sublime; the next dessert a valid effort in making quince and walnuts exciting, and the coffee was great. In the end, we left very happy. I guess what we needed most was to have someone else take charge, and to be spoiled. It was decadent and restorative. Sampling a talented chef’s artistry is always stimulating, even if you have to be forced into it. Gilles Herzog is very good.

For the rest of the week, needless to say, I satisfied my cravings for the simplest of food…. Cheese, eggs, oysters, home-made broth, plain white rice and lots of greens; I cannot get enough greens.

Another treat was Thursday night off and a comforting dinner at my home away from home, the Tavern, with my good friend, Barb. I ordered two salads. The kitchen must have thought I was crazy, but that’s what I wanted. A Caesar salad, followed by a grilled calamari, lentil and arugula salad. I know it disappoints chefs when another chef doesn’t order right, and isn’t interested in trying their most elaborate dish that they are most proud of. I remember getting frustrated with other chefs myself, trying to coax Anne into having the latest discovery or Dave McMillan into having something other than roast chicken, not getting it. It took a few years, but now, I realize that that is just the way it goes; the more you work with complicated food, the less you want to see of it on your time off. Or since you’ve tried it all, the more particular you become about what you like and want; you don’t need to impress or be impressed. In any case, I wasn’t going to be bossed into another meal I didn’t order this week. And it was great.

A third treat for me this week was not about eating, but about cooking, in the kitchen of my dreams. I catered a dinner in a private home, and that is where I met this most fabulous kitchen. My favourite feature besides the full set of All Clads, was the GIANT island with pull out refrigerator drawers for your MEP. If you don’t count the wine cellar... Cooking in someone else’s kitchen is often a headache, but this was a breeze, I actually had time to twiddle my thumbs. When asked to add an improvised cheese course, I scrambled to find some garnish, but no problem - the woman of the household had an assortment of aged balsamic and fresh fruit....not to mention all the plateware and utensils you can imagine, a noiseless dishwasher....wow. I’ve been around nice condiments and appliances before, but altogether, this was the best designed home kitchen I have encountered. It is mine now, in my dreams anyway.

A couple more days of work, but with small groups of clients, turned out to be a treat too, because then I get to do stuff I wouldn’t attempt on a big night. I made veal cheeks, sushi (which I had forgotten about because I made too much in the early 90’s) with salmon, wild ginger and sea asparagus, I made fresh pasta with crinkleroot, I fiddled around with dessert, patting a fragile butter crust into molds with an apple, wild cranberry filling and a clover-frangipane topping, adding many more components and steps then I normally would. Usually, I stick to “cook’s desserts”, you know....crème brulée, mousses, simple cakes and ice creams, wafer cookies and every combination of these. I save the sabayon, floating islands and finnicky stuff for small nights. So these small nights are a treat for me, I’m not the one counting the cash.

My week winded up with the treat of treats, dinner with the girls. The occasion was bittersweet since my good friend Ange is moving away, but we had a fabulous time at La Montée de Lait, a little gem of a restaurant on the Plateau, or is it Mile End (on Villeneuve near St-Denis). The room is very stark design-wise, the tables are cramped, but the food is inventive and enticing if you’re in the mood for a few frills without breaking the bank (4 courses for 40$). It is casual but with a “everything 3 ways” kind of menu. The wine list is very winner, as in researched and diverse in the good value category, with a few big bottles for the big spenders.

We sampled most of the short menu and everything pleased. There was a scallop appetizer done “à la carbonara” with bacon, egg yolk froth and parsley purée, a shrimp dish three ways that consisted of a bisque and skewer, another shrimp with leek compote and a fried shrimp with roast garlic and Ossau Iraty, very tasty. The Mac’n cheese was a ravioli stuffed with Mimolette cream, served with tomato confit and onion rings – amazing! The root vegetable medley, although listed very plainly, turned out to be four root vegetables all cooked differently: a sunchoke soup, a raw rabiole salad, a turnip gratin and a parnip dip with parsnip chips, all very successful. I like it when not everything is spelled out on the menu, and the plate surprizes. As a main or fourth, the other girls had pork belly with molasses glaze and brussel sprouts, very good, and I had a venison tartare, which was served in a glass (this time, I don’t agree) with a corn foam and potato chips. After I removed all the chips and started digging in, I found it perfectly seasoned, like a light version of traditional tartare, with the necessary spice, yet made delicate with a light hand and the corn.... I would have preferred it earlier in the meal, but whatever, it was delicious. Everything was. My girlfriends had dessert and equally enjoyed the (again glassed) chocolate-sponge toffee concoction. The fancy water was good too, although the appeal in perusing a water menu (and spending 9$ on a bottle) eludes me. Maybe it gives those in AA, or pregnant or straight, something exciting to do and think about beverage-wise, which is fine I suppose.

I was most glad to leave this place with a pleasant experience to associate it with, since the last time I dined here, although the food was fine, I didn’t have the greatest time. It went sour for a number of reasons, no one’s fault really..... my boyfriend and I were scrapping, he didn’t love his food, I made a poor pick with some experimental organic wine, there was a cold draft, nothing worked. That was the only time over dinner that I didn’t talk for ten minutes straight (we were in silent treatment mode) and it was certainly the only time that we didn’t finish a bottle of wine at a restaurant. Brutal. Anyway, now after today, that is erased, and I will only have fond memories of La Montée de Lait.

My week of treats was perfect. I saw my friends, got to visit my little pad in Montreal , I ate some great food, both simple and elaborate, I am sated. I’m ready to tackle anything. Bring on the Christmas season!

Also, here are some very cool things to check out:

This article appeared in the NY Times a week or so ago – it is a good summary of the food ethics issues I find most important…

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/15/business/smallbusiness/15recall.html?ex=1321246800&en=cb95ab5b4157a753&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

Forwarded to me via Joel, this is a very cool hopeful story about chefs doing their part for peace in the Middle East.

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2006/11/a_little_peace.php

Here are some food movies to see, Ange's contribution....

http://www.elise.com/recipes/archives/004173favorite_foodie_movies.php

11-8-2006

What else can I write about this week but mushrooms? Being smack in the middle of our monumental wild mushroom extravaganza, I can’t think about anything else. Besides, if I don’t talk about them now, I certainly won’t for a while given that I will be pretty shroomed out after this, I reckon.

With close to twenty kinds of wild mushrooms on the menu, I have been cleaning and freezing and drying, pulverizing and cooking all kinds of mushrooms, all kinds of ways, day in, day out, for weeks now for this event, with another week to go.

This event has become a big draw, be it for mushroom lovers and gastronomes, people who know many wild varieties but don’t have access to them all, or for people who know less but are curious, and want to learn. There is something generally intoxicating about mushrooms I think, due to their sweet, deep, earthy aromas, but also because some are literally so, and we all know they can be deadly. Many people see different mushrooms growing in their backyard and wonder whether they can eat them, but don’t dare to; we give them that chance. To visualize the mushrooms we are using, you can go to his website (www.jardinssauvages.com) and click on the mushroom words on the French menu, and a picture of the mushroom pops up.

I always loved mushrooms; it was probably my first vegetable love affair, besides maybe pickles, if that counts. The first dish I ever cooked on my own was a mushroom dish, around the age of 7 or so, I needed to stand on a chair. I sautéed up some mushrooms with margarine (?!) and finished with soy sauce. This is still one of my favorite dishes only fancied up, using wild mushrooms, tamari and real butter, a splash of fine sherry vinegar, black pepper. It’s funny, because although I was always a passionate eater, I did not develop any culinary aspirations until my twenties. However, at an early age, I was particular about what I ate, refusing to eat much of what my Mom cooked, I was one to take charge, and I liked mushrooms.

I have been seduced with mushrooms more than once. I think a part of me lit up the first time I tasted porcini. I remember the day. Same with black trumpets, they still make me swoon, I think they are the sexiest mushroom. Yes, even more than truffles.

Mushrooms played an important role in my courtship with François as well. I was at l’Eau à la Bouche and mushroom fever was just taking hold of me. I was being introduced to new varieties, foragers would come to the back door, and we cooks would go out and pick some ourselves and then dare eachother to eat them. I took a beginners’ course that year. Then François des bois came along with wilder varieties, and his eye on me. We started dating several mushrooms later, and soon after, he managed to get into my house to cook me up a couple of Amanites des Cesars, a rare type considered one of the most noble by the French. In those early days, he would leave baskets of assorted wild mushrooms on my doorstep when he was in Ste-Adèle and I was at work. Some people woo with flowers; with me, mushrooms worked just as well.

A month or two later, when we were officially dating, a paper bag of boletus showed up on my doorstep one morning... That day, I ate breakfast. An omelet with special mushrooms makes for an exquisite start to a day for sure. The thing is, the next time I spoke with François, I graciously thanked him for the nice treat, only to have him respond in shock, even hostility. You see, it had not been him. Apparently, I had another forager/suitor. I had no idea who it could be, François was suspicious and jealous. “Who the hell else was coming to my door with mushrooms?” he demanded. I eventually found out that it was a young cook in the kitchen who either had a crush on me or was trying to suck up, get a little less flack or a better schedule... So, mushrooms started our relationship, and shortly after caused a rift, making for a rocky start.. But it didn’t take long before more mushroom experiences secured it...

Now, they’re bound to keep us together, especially since our annual mushroom event has taken on a life of its own and has become this huge thing. What would we do without them? Everywhere we go, we pick mushrooms: in the Charlevoix, in the Outaouais, in the Laurentians...It isn’t new that mushrooms dictate my schedule really; for the last few years at l’Eau, my vacation time was set according to the end of the mushroom season and our event at la Table des Jardins Sauvages.

Mushrooms are indeed big in my life, but then again, a lot of vegetables are. But because of these mushroom dinners I guess, I have become a mini mushroom diva. I was asked to write an article on boletus for Effervescence magazine, I did a mushroom event at the Pearson School of Culinary Arts, was in a mushroom article in the Gazette; all of a sudden, I’m a reference. I know how to cook, but I am no mushroom expert. I don’t need to be, I have François, my own personal forager and expert. I do like to pick a little when I don’t have to be at the stove though...

If I’m not with François, I am limited to a few of the most familiar. I started with boletus and the obvious morels, chanterelles and lobsters... Now, I can differentiate the most common of the boletus, I do mousserons, bluefoots, lactaires delicieux, puffballs, and lepiotes too. Actually, the best puffball of the season I found by tripping over it on my way to the shed for a spade, that’s hardly foraging is it? François is good at getting the oysters by climbing trees or gently knocking them down with a pole; my job is to catch them before they hit the ground.

When it comes to foraging for wild mushrooms, you need to consult not one book, but several. None seem to be complete, and there are toxic mushrooms that resemble good ones. Going with someone knowledgable is a big help. Then, it just takes time and experience, always referring to the books, and your tastebuds when you’re further along. I think it is wiser to get to know a certain forest or area, discover what grows there, and stick with a variety or two that you have until you know them well. Then, you can move on to new types and new spots. Unless you’re crazy adventurous, don’t dabble with the sketchy kinds, be leary of the prettiest ones. I don’t bother with the ugly gyromite either (like a big, deformed looking morel), which some people prize, who needs a stomach ache?

Again, I’m biased when it comes to boletus because I love them, but for beginners, they are a good way to start. That’s because they are easy to identify and never dangerous. Well, there is one toxic variety but it doesn’t grow here. Of the hundred or so varieties, there are some that are of no culinary interest, others are bitter, but there are 20 odd delicious ones. They usually have a yellow-brownish cap, they have that stereotypical mushroom shape, and under the cap there is a sponge that when you look closely, is really a bunch of little upright tubes, as opposed to the horizontal gills of most other species. They are great fresh in soups and sauces, and even better dried, because all kinds of new aromas develop, reminicent of vanilla, cherries, coconut, chocolate, almonds... depending on the type. People are skeptical, but once you take a sniff in our jars, it is easy to see that it is not a stretch.

Anyone who knows wild mushrooms knows how delicious they can be, but also how elusive they are. Not only is properly identifying them daunting, but finding them is another story. They are hardly predictable. When you have a good spot, it will likely provide year after year, but only under the right conditions, and who knows when. Mushroom hunters are notoriously passionate and persistent, as if they are biten by a bug, revisiting their locations, seeking out new ones, only satisfied by a substancial find. Good spots are coveted, and often kept secret.

I’ve been let in on some of François’ spots, but he’s not worried, I had morels on my front lawn and didn’t even see them. Over the years, I have developed my eagle eye somewhat, but I’m still no hawk. I’m better, but I am only effective one variety at a time. When I’m in mousseron mode, I see them all and pick them at lightening speed. Then I move into bluefoot mode, and collect a whole bunch. Ok, I won’t miss a bright red lobster mushroom underfoot, and I always see the boletus (my favorite), but I easily miss the oysters (I don’t notice much above my field of vision) or others I’m not focused on finding. It doesn’t help that I’m not good at identifying the different kinds of trees, which is an important part of mushroom gathering.

As you can see, it is a complicated business. So, as long as I have a constant supply, my priority will be cooking them. For the firmer varieties like porcini or matsutake or chanterelles, my favorite way is freshly sautéed. Some of the softer varieties, like most of the boletus, are much better dried. That’s why you don’t see them fresh in stores, they are too perishable. You will find them in specialty stores, even some supermarkets. I use them to beef up stocks or sauces (they can do wonders for vegetarian dishes), to aromatize soups, or to infuse in milk for scalloped potatoes or ice cream or flan preparations. We make them into powder and use this “mushroom flour” in crusts for scallops or poultry, or in desserts, you just add them in with the dry ingredients. You don’t need much. A tablespoon (5g) will flavor a small batch of cookie dough or crust. In savory preparations, calculate ¼ the fresh weight of mushrooms you would use. 10-15g of dried mushrooms will nicely flavor a broth, soup or sauce. You just rehydrate by pouring boiling water over top, allow them to soften, drain, and add to your recipe, decanting the soaking liquid, which you can also use.

François is putting a fragrant boletus oil (and mustard) on the market this year, the first of its kind in Québec. You use it like truffle oil, although it is less potent, and so more versatile. There are porcini oils on the market from Italy, but so far I have not tasted one that is made with real mushrooms that is this good. This oil will be a great addition to any cook’s repertoire, even if all you cook is eggs.

There is so much to do with mushrooms. They go great with just about anything, the milder varieties with seafood, poultry, artichokes and cheese, the stronger varieties with tomatoes, eggplant, root vegetables, game and meat. They can be used in compound butters, spreads, salads, casseroles, pasta or rice dishes, as accompaniments, or in sauces for meats. Yet, I hardly feel like going into too much more detail about how to cook mushrooms. Just use a hot pan and enough oil, finish with butter. Don’t wash them (just wipe clean) unless they are very dirty. Make sure to cook any wild mushrooms through. When using dried, keep the soaking liquid and leave the dirt behind. There are more tips in the Gazoo article, and I have included some recipes here too for those interested (see the Recipes section).

I encourage you all to get out there and explore the world of mushrooms, sample the varieties available to you at the market. There are some tasty cultivated ‘wild’ mushrooms being produced in Québec, like the oyster, King oyster, shitake and fairy ring. They are more delicate and more one dimensional than real wild mushrooms, but still delicious, just different. Incorporate dried mushrooms into your cooking; treat them like a vanilla pod or a bay leaf that you can leave in or take out, to infuse in your soups, sauces or stews. They provide meatiness and complexity. Fresh wild mushrooms are more difficult to find and you have to pay the price. But when you can get your hands on some, they are well worth it, a world away and above cultivated mushrooms, not that there is anything wrong with regular mushrooms either. All mushrooms are good.

Mushroom Boom (article in the Gazette on Wednesday Nov.8, 2006)http://www.canada.com/montrealgazette/news/arts/story.html?id=3be34077-2932-4909-88a1-c4320c5eb5e2&k=5279

The tug of war

10-22-06

I’m brainstorming for a holiday menu I need to submit to a client who wants « la totale », which by the way, is a chef’s dream.. where the sky is the limit, you can use whatever ingredients you want. This is rare, and so writing this kind of menu is extremely fun;I decide to make a night of it, well until “Tout le monde en parle” starts anyway. I sit down with a glass of wine, and some seaweed “caviar” canapés (actually just sesame rice crackers with sour cream, scallions, and my faux caviar). All of a sudden, I know I have to get me some real caviar this Christmas season, a 2 or 4 oz jar, half for the client, half for me. It has been ages, and I’m afraid I might not have the chance again.

Caviar is becoming even more rare a treat because the Russian and Iranian sturgeon stocks (where authentic beluga, ossetra or sevruga caviar comes from) are so low, that it is not far from being banned, and in that light, very hard to justify. Especially that I have been riding the food ethics bandwagon, it was virtually off my list, out of my life, probably forever I thought. Not that I can really afford it anyway, but I also knew there were other options. Sturgeon is being farmed here in North America, and there is now pretty decent American and Quebec Abitibi caviar on the market. Besides, there are so many exquisite foodstuffs out there to cook with, what’s the big deal, right?

But the fact is the minute I realize that something is forbidden, or will be cut off absolutely, I almost suddenly panick, and urgently desire it. It is a reflex, I can’t help it.

Since reading a few eco-food books this year, I have become more concsious and have been making an effort to be more socially and ecologically responsible as a consumer. I never leave home without my canvas bags, I buy local, often organic and avoid industrially produced food, I stay away from unsustainable fish, and I buy fair trade coffee. But I also love veal, and I love shrimp, both no-nos. I will never be a radical activist; I want to keep the joie de vivre in my life. However, I do want to do my part, and I know that if I continue the path I’m on, my days of enjoying them are numbered. I already eat them less than I did before knowledge killed the fun. But as time passes, and the threat of real separation from these precious things approaches, even if it is self-imposed, I am finding it harder and harder.

Hence the panic attacks, the backlash. The last time I was in an Italian restaurant, I ordered veal. This week, when my boyfriend asked me to make a big salad with shrimp and lots of stuff the way he likes it, instead of sensibly coaxing him with something equally appetizing, I went out and bought a whack of shrimp. I read all the labels, but of course there wasn’t anything from North America (a sounder choice because it is more regulated here than in Thailand or Mexico, for instance). As I perused the display case, I couldn’t stop thinking how annoying it was that I should have to feel guilty for making a home cooked meal, and that I might have to give up shrimp, and an easy way of pleasing the boyfriend. For a second, I’m furious, and fuelled by the voices of advocates from the books I’m reading these days, I want to go make a fuss, to blast the grocer, or nicely ask them to buy and stock their shelfs more responsibly. Charge, I’ll tell him or her, some people will pay, just give us a choice! But of course, it’s Sunday, there is no one at the fish counter, there are three employees in the entire supermarket, all of whom appear to be under twenty, and the lines at the cash are alleys long with impatient customers. It is obviously not the time to bring up the issue of sustainable fishing. I grab the bag of shrimp and take my place in line, feeling guilty, but more determined to eat these shrimp than ever.

This is the childish behavior of an addict, or of a spoiled brat, isn’t it? It’s not even that I’m addicted to shrimp either. But I guess I am addicted to good food, and spoiled in that I can usually get or make something I’m craving, if not today, then soon enough. And I don’t like being told what to do, even by myself. Yes, I’m indulgent, but being from a modest background, and a family of ten, it is nonetheless ingrained in me to be somewhat moderate and thankful. Most days, I think how lucky I am to have three meals a day, and to have the life I do. At my best, I am very rational, and a good person you see. But at my weakest, I am a big baby, a stubborn glutton, and an anarchist.

I never liked rules when it came to food; I’ve never dieted, so this is all new to me. However, my new internal food battles do remind me of cigarette smoking. In this case, I am an addict. As the tabacco laws tighten, and smoking becomes less acceptable, not to mention the fact that I am getting carded all the time now, it is becoming increasingly difficult to smoke in peace. The more people tell me I shouldn’t smoke, the more I want to. I don’t know if it is that I’ve let the physical addiction manipulate me or if it is just my rebellious nature. Like with the caviar, or the veal, my desire grows with the prospect of being deprived of something dear in the future. So, I keep enjoying my cigarette or my shrimp like they’re my last, but I keep doing it, putting off the real break up to a later date.

I know how straightforward it is to understand what’s going on and that all I have to do is to make more disciplined efforts to do right. But for me, it is a huge struggle. This irrational reflex must be a deep-rooted evolutionary trait that was once crucial to survival, now it is just misplaced, an obstacle to enlightened living, which I will obviously never be good at. The battle between my lower, primitive animal brain, and my higher, intelligent human brain that knows better, is omnipresent in my life, I know I’m not alone. This duality is common to all of us human beings, as dieters all over and men trying not to cheat on their wives will attest. Things would be easier if I hadn’t tasted the good life, I should have become a nun, and spent my time meditating and making cheese. Maybe I’m too much of a free spirit; too in tune with my kid self or my animal self for a serious, thinking, moral adult. I do try to keep them in balance, but some days, one wins out over the other. And I keep hoping that I will grow up and that things will get easier. But for now, blah, I don’t want to read or think anymore until Christmas when I will have my caviar, how yummy it will be... and then that will be it. That’s what New Year’s resolutions are for... maybe I’ll even quit smoking.

More harvest talk

2006-10-05

Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

All the summer stuff is now gone, the autumn vegetables are in full swing, there are some late season strawberries, but basically, the end is really drawing near. It’s time to stock up. I feel the pressure, but it’s hard to find the time. This is my favorite time of year: the market still abundant, the sunny days, the crisp nights, the leaves turning, I always want to celebrate Thanksgiving fully, hold a big feast with friends, yes turkey, but all kinds of stuff, and lots of wine. But somehow, in the restaurant business, in no matter what function, this is always a busy time of year. Maybe one day .

Ok, so the parties and campfires will have to wait, but I do have to put some stuff up no matter what. I did jar some tomato sauce, some ratatouille, some hot pepper sauce, some salted herbs. I even shaved the kernels off ears of corn, froze the kernels, and the naked ears (for broth); I needed to extend the corn season a little.

Now, it’s the mushrooms that are coming in. François is out picking, he’s so good. When everyone is saying there is nothing out there, in one morning, he comes back with baskets full of lepiotes, wild oyster mushrooms, lactaires délicieux, coprins, blue foots... It’s turning out to be a not bad fall mushroom season. Some varieties didn’t bloom, others came out in full force, but rotted immediately – too much rain and heat. So, we missed out on the late season cepes and the puffballs, but the blue foots and some of the later bolets are still promising.

With the mushrooms, we do all kind of things to preserve them for the year. Some we freeze IQF (flash frozen individually), others we dry and make powders, and some we transform right away to make glazes, pickles, soups, sauces, flavored oil, and butter.

When the winter squash come in, we keep some in a cool spot for cooking, the rest get washed with soap and water, and are put out for decoration. Others go into storage for cooking at a later date, say January or Febuary, when anything good is scarce. This way, they will keep for monthes, even ‘til next season, but once spring comes round, we’re all sick of squash, hard to believe now.

We’re also stocking up on local onions, celery, nantaise carrots (the sweet stubby ones), garlic, all the root vegetables.... Keep them in a cool place and you’re better off than buying the same thing from supermarkets, or imported stuff.

Tis the season to revel in the abundance, to cook up a storm, but also to think about the winter ahead and stock up. There is nothing more rewarding and soulful than eating your own preserves in the heart of winter. I don’t want the season to end, but I’m almost looking forward to those cold, sparse monthes inorder to appreciate all the hard work of today.

Salted herbs

4 L (8x500ml mason jars)

1 Leek

4 Carrots

3 Parsnips

4 ribs celery

4c Spinach

1 small bulb Fennel

2 bunches Parsley

2 bunches Basil

1 bunch Dill

1 bunch Thyme

1 bunch Rosemary

1 Tbsp Black pepper

2 Tbsp Fennel seed

2 Tbsp Coriander seed

1 tsp All spice

1 Tbsp Juniper berry

Lemon zest (from 2 lemons)

2 c Salt

Dice vegetables very finely. Chop herbs. Grind spices. Grate lemon zest. Mix well all together and layer with salt, store in airtight containers in fridge. Can (in mason jars in boiling water) to keep longer than a month.

Birth of a blog, and Tomatoes

2006-09-30

So this it it . Finally, I start this blog. Its been brewing for ages, and I can’t wait any longer, for better or for worse.

And, no, its not about soup. I’m “soupnancy” because the label is old enough that it stuck. It came from my years at the Tavern, when I was making 30 litres of soup a day, all kinds. People liked my soup, and I also happened to be somewhat of a tyrant in the kitchen. So when the Seinfeld Soup Nazi episode aired, it wasn’t long before my nickname was coined. I still love soup, but there’s much more on my mind today. I just couldn’t think of anything else to call my blog.

My blog will be about food, cooking, and I whatever I feel like writing about; there’s no real agenda

Today, its tomatoes .

It is harvest season, tomatoes and everything else is in abundance, but the days are numbered. Of all the fruits and vegetables, tomatoes are the hardest to let go for me. I feel an urgency to take full advantage of the last of the season, so I’m doing my tomato dance, cooking up a storm, canning, and savoring every last, fresh taste. Sure, we have hothouse varieties off season that are getting better every year, as well as a reliable supply of good canned tomatoes year round, but its not the same. I’m allowed to make a deal about late summer tomatoes.

I love tomatoes because they seem to have it all. Mainly, they are lively and sweet. I appreciate acidity in food, in wine (and in sourpatch kids). Like most North Americans, I like sweet too. I love vegetables more than any other food group (ya, ya, I know it’s a fruit, but that’s botanist talk). So, obviously, I like that vegetal taste that wine people talk about, which is very present in tomatoes. Of course, I love salt and pepper too, and I can’t think of another place where they shine so brightly.

A perfectly ripe tomato has it all in balance: fresh acidity, sweet juiciness, fleshy meatiness. Tomatoes are great on their own, raw or cooked, and almost everything goes with tomato. Oh, and its great for you; it is an anti-oxidant with its anthocyanins, lycopene, its good dose of Vitamin C; it also provides minerals, like potassium and the all important fibre.

Long cooked tomatoes bring body and umami (glutamate, ie. yumminess) to a preparation, they also add color to stocks and stews. They refresh the palate in cassoulet, they form the base of many sauces we couldn’t live without (ketchup, cocktail sauce, bbq sauce, salsa, spaghetti sauce... ) Even in cocktails, how about a delicious bloody caesar at a 5 à 7? Physically, they are a beauty to behold. Artists paint them, they adorn tablecloths, wall paper, tapestries and aprons. They pretty up salads and buffets, we put them in bowls on our dining tables for a centerpiece. They once garnished breakfast plates across the land, which made perfect sense by the way, tomatoes being the ideal condiment for an egg. I don’t know how they got bumped off by the ubiquitous orange slice in today’s restaurants, and I could strangle whoever is responsible. Anyway.

With all these qualities, I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t love tomatoes. Its not like they give you gas or get stuck in your teeth, allergic reactions aren’t common. Yet I do know a guy who hates them, actually I dated him. I guess no one is perfect. But it’s strange, he is open-minded, has a good palate, eats just about everything else, but he doesn’t get tomatoes. Otherwise he is a fine fellow, pretty normal. He does grow them, and will eat them cooked, maybe there is hope for him yet.

In my tomato life, a climax certainly was meeting Jerome Plante, whom many now know for his heirloom varieties. I worked with him at L’Eau à la Bouche where we were privelaged to serve his tomatoes in a myriad of ways. A big hit was the tomato salad with watercress, truffle, and sheep’s milk cheese. Every week was a different treat, we couldn’t keep all the kinds straight.....Brandywine, beefsteak, zebra, ...even these mini wild tomatoes, they were all knock-outs. I hear that he was at Jean Talon this summer, so his fabulous tomatoes were accessible to anyone, not just select chefs.

Now, I’m mostly cooking with what comes from our own garden, or from this farmer next door named André Cormier. I might not have the same wide variety or expertise as Jerome, and I’ll surely go back to him one day if he’ll have me. But while I can, there’s something about standing amongst the vines, smelling that intoxicating, floral, green tomato aroma, watching them ripen, while swatting at flies and picking them myself. I let them sit on the counter a day to ripen, and so that I can admire them everytime I walk by. Then it’s time to eat or cook them up.

Over the years, I’ve used tomatoes ten zillion ways: in confit, in terrine, tomato gelée, tomato sorbet, tomato foam, you name it. Nowadays, I couldn’t be bothered. My favorite ways with tomatoes are the simplest: in a sandwich or salad, in fresh salsa, in a quick cooked tomato sauce, in ratatouille or chutney, fresh and fast-cooked with mussels, clams or oysters. I also really like them roasted or provençale, that old classic with breadcrumbs on top that I once dismissed as boring.

My favorite ways with tomatoes

Tomato salad with crinkleroot oil, smoked sea salt and greens, maybe some cheese or a poached egg to take it up a notch.

-Slice tomatoes, drizzle them with some good olive oil. I use crinkleroot oil (wild horseradish) for its arugula like bite. Sprinkle on some sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper, a few chili flakes. Dress the greens the same, but with restraint, adding a splash of a good vinegar like balsamic or sherry. Add some fresh mozzarella or some Reggiano, any good cheese. If I want to make it more substancial, I’ll add a poached egg or some garlic toast, some smoked duck or some lardons.

Fresh tomato salsa, “tortilla soup”, and gaspacho

-Halve and seed tomatoes, squeezing out excess juice, and dice. Add some minced shallot, some freshly chopped coriander, a squeeze of lime and/or red wine vinegar, salt, chili, pure or in the form of tabasco, some olive oil. You might want to add a pinch of sugar depending on your tomatoes.

-When I’m alone, I don’t seed or juice them. It makes for watery salsa, but when I’m done, I have this tasty liquid into which I like to dump all the bits of chips from the bottom of the bowl to make “tortilla soup”. It makes a snack into a meal, perfect for midnight after a shift, in front of the TV.

Fresh tomato sauce

-Generally, I prefer a quick cooked tomato sauce, that has that fresh tomato taste, with lots of olive oil. Sometimes, I’ll pump up the mirepoix (vegetable) ratio, add wine, more seasoning, and cook it longer, if I want something more complex, or if I’m adding meat.

-In any case, start by sweating some onions. I usually add a bit of minced carrot and celery, some red pepper. Then garlic, a touch of white wine, good vinegar or lemon juice. Then the spices. I use chili, fennel seed, thyme and oregano. Then go in the tomatoes. Canned is fine, although I usually use half canned, half fresh. If you don’t like skin, then blanch and peel your tomatoes, seed them if you want. You might not want to use all the juice, especially if you won’t be cooking it long. Stick in a bay leaf, even a cinnamon stick if you’re feeling adventurous (particulary good with a pork based sauce). Simmer for 30 min or 1 hour, longer if you’re doing a big batch. Pull out the aromats, douse with a good measure of good olive oil, salt and pepper, and blend.

-With this base, you can play around.....

-add anchovy, olives and capres

-add bacon and mushrooms, (and cream or not)

-add beans, extra peppers and pork or not, spices (cumin, chili, oregano, thyme, cinnamon)

-add curry, yogurt, shrimp or chicken, coriander and coconut

-add tarragon, lemon and cream for mussels, any seafood or chicken

Roast tomatoes as a topping for fish, pasta, even meat

-Halve tomatoes (preferably Roma), toss with olive oil, garlic cloves, herbs of choice, and roast on a baking tray at 400F for 30 minutes. Pull out, peel off the skins if you want, and serve along with the pan juices to dress up fish, meat, pasta or eggs.

-You can do this over a very low heat (160-200F) for hours, and then you have confit, use in the same way.

Ratatouille

-Degorge (slice and salt) your eggplant for at least half an hour. Wipe dry.

Dice up all your vegetables ( 1 onion, 1 eggplant, 2 zucchini, 1-2 red pepper). Mince up 1 celery stick, a couple of cloves of garlic.

-In your big pot, sweat an onion, add a little minced celery, one or two diced bell peppers. Then goes in some minced garlic, some chili flakes, some cumin seeds, maybe some fennel seeds, some thyme, a little rosemary. Deglaze with a ½ cup or so of red wine, and a good shot of red wine vinegar.

-On the side, in a frying pan, saute your eggplant in a good measure of olive oil, toss into big pot. Sauté zucchini in more olive oil, and add to ratatouille. Add a good pinch of salt, sugar and pepper, and allow to simmer for 30min-1 hour. Throw in some fresh basil, and rectify seasoning.

-serve hot or cold, with couscous, pasta, lamb, sausage, eggs or poultry... anything

Peanuts

2006-09-10

Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

I’m in a peanut state of mind. I regularly go through love-in phases with various foodstuffs, often in synch with the seasons, sometimes just out of the blue. These days I’m nuts about peanuts. I am constantly craving them as a snack, and feeling very inspired to incorporate them into my cooking.

I grew up on peanut butter, but somewhere amidst all the excitement of my teen age years, I forgot about it. I rediscovered peanuts around 1994 when satay was all the rage. One day, I was making satay sauce, and started dipping into the peanut butter; I fell in love all over again. Wow, so good.....the memories flooded back.

Me and peanuts go back a long way. Beyond the peanut butter sandwiches in my lunchbox, BBQ peanuts were one of my favorite things as a kid. I always brought a stash with me to summer camp to make up for the terrible food there, but unfortunately soon learned that the raccoons enjoyed them as much as me. I spent much time and energy plotting and scheming to keep my sacred peanuts away from my new enemies. I would leave the less interesting bits from my care package, such as granola bars, lying about, but would wrap my peanuts in layers of bags, inside boxes, hidden in a locked suitcase, and tied to the roof of the tent. The damn buggers still managed to get to them, always leaving the blasted granola bars untouched, arg!

Blast ahead a decade or so, and its the 90’s , I’m being influenced by the “fusion” trend, I go on to dabble in different ethnic cuisines, and uncovered new ways to cook with peanuts. How fantastic they were toasted in a Thai salad, how fine a marriage they made with shrimp, chilies and coriander, how fabulously strange they were in African peanut soup... our relationship grew. But there would be a break-up down the road.

You see, around the same time, peanuts were slowly being shunned from the modern kitchen as the frequency of deadly allergies mounted. No matter that peanut oil made the best fries, actually the crispiest fried anything, it had to go. For years, I fried in canola oil, and now way past the peanut, I drizzled cold-pressed walnut oil or hazelnut oil into my preparations.

Until very recently, I had forgotten how delicious toasted peanut oil is on a green that can stand up to it, with a squeeze of lime or a splash of sherry vinegar. Now that just as many other allergies are a part of the game, and the peanut is not the only villain, I guess we can invite them back into the kitchen, albeit with a little caution.

And that is a good thing. Peanuts are nutritious, packing a good amount of protein, good unsaturated fat, .....

In fact, peanuts are a legume.....

And just plain addictive.

The other day, deep in the middle of my peanut rage, I happened to be in a long line at Canadian Tire when a peanut craving struck, and lo and behold, there they were, little packets of Planters next to the lighters and keychains for 99 cents. Before the thought that I don’t trust big food manufacturers registered, I had already gobbled them down. When my brain caught up, still in line, I got to reading the label, whoa! Since when did peanuts need so much help? There were 20 odd additives present, this and that, I suppose to keep them crunchy, keep them from going rancid, pump up their umami, who knows.....

Ingredients: Peanuts, salt, potato starch, sugar, monosodium glutamate, tapioca dextrose, autolyzed yeast, cornstarch, spices, hydrolyzed plant (soy) protein, smoke flavor, hydrogenated soybean oil, onion powder, garlic powder, monoglycerides, BHT, BHA, propyl gallate, citric acid, tri-calcium phosphate, (may contain other nut types).

Outrageous! You don’t need all that crap if they’re fresh, only a bit of heat, a bit of salt..... Au naturel en vrac at Ahkavan or from a health food store, that’s the way to go. But honestly, do go ahead, and try them again – you’ll see.

Wild foods

By Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

Wild foods are local, regional, seasonal (all the modern buzz words), and a part of our culinary heritage. There is a movement towards rediscovering old heirloom varieties of fruit and vegetables, niche markets are emerging for artisanal products, everything organic. You would think that wild food would be a natural step in our search for local products to endorse, and in our quest for new tastes and ideas. So, why is Toqué the only restaurant in Montreal where you might come across sea spinach or baies d’églantiers? Why aren’t we exploiting what’s in our very own backyards?

Québecois cuisine is amidst an explosion of progress, coming into its own. Chefs are experimenting with all kinds of new products and techniques, some have even moved into labs to push the limits further. In all our exuberent exploration, we have gone off in all directions and lost track of the past. Like with agribusiness taking the place of our traditional small farms, we have forgotten what our ancestors knew about wild foods. While busy trying to uncover every last spice or delicacy from abroad to add to our repertoire, we have neglected our culinary heritage.

There are so many indigenous wild plants that we don’t know enough to appreciate or to protect. We have loads of resources, like wild mushrooms that no one is picking. Most of the mushrooms sold to the high-end restaurants in Montreal come from Europe or out west, while tons grow here.

Besides the ubiquitous fiddleheads of spring, there are many wild plants of culinary interest. All the varieties of wild mushrooms that don’t make it to market because they’re rare or less known or too perishable, for example. All the sprouts (adder’s leaf, orach, chickweed, purselane, live-forever, stinging nettle) and herbs (mint, chives, lovage.....) are more. There are baby bull rushes that you peel and crumble to make a flour that tastes like corn. There are the roots like wild ginger which has a super intoxicating Thrill’s gum-like aroma that is addictive, crinkleroot (wild horseradish) which tastes like arugula and peanut mixed, and of course, the delicious wild garlic bulbs and leaves with their complex, floral garlic flavor. There is labrador tea, and wintergreen leaves and berries, great both in the savory and sweet kitchen. Then, there are all the flower petals, flowerbuds, and wild berries like elderberry, bake-apple, partridge berry, squashberry...... And these are just some of my favorites.

When I first came across some of these things at l’Eau à la Bouche, I was enchanted, curious about all the possibilities. When the novelty wore off in my exploration, I gained perspective, and discarded those plants that were too bitter, or so subtle that they had nothing unique to offer. Afterall, I wasn’t stuck in the woods with nothing else to eat. With all the good ingredients at our fingertips these days, we chefs can afford to be selective. I am selective, but now that I’ve gotten to know these wild ingredients, I love them, and they will be a part of my repertoire forever, as long as I can find them.

That’s what worries me. Well, luckily, I have my François des bois, but what about everyone else? I wish more people could appreciate this wholesome source of food. But a part from picking the weeds in our backyards, sourcing out these indigenous plants is not easy. There aren’t many people in the business, its a tricky business because the people involved are always at the mercy of nature, and a there’s a whole mess of obstacles between the supply and the chef, especially in the city.

One of the problems is that wild plants are less predictable, less easy to acquire and deal with than cultivated crops. That makes it hard for pickers to work with chefs, and for chefs to plan their menus. Most suppliers and chefs won’t bother. Another problem is the lack of pickers, as on traditional farms.

Most important is the lack of knowledge of wild plants, or the rampant misinformation. It is not in our tradition to know much about mushrooms say as it is with Europeans, and even with plants that have more of a history here, the knowledge has slowly been lost from generation to generation. So people don’t know enough about what’s good and what’s not, inorder to look for it, want it, let alone want to pick it for a living.

Another issue is the danger inherent in a lack of knowledge and training. People are leary of wild plants, and for good reason, since the wrong plant, the wrong picking location or method of preparation can indeed cause gastric pain or poisoning. There are some books out there, but without hands on experience, it can be an adventure at best.

François Brouillard, aka François des bois is someone that grew up with foraging, he learnt it from his grandmother. He also read all the books, spent a lot of time in the woods, and survived a few stomach aches, certainly. Afterwards, he spent over ten years trying to make a living supplying restaurants, recruiting and training pickers, educating and proudly selling wild plants to a public that wasn’t ready.

A major set back for chefs and foragers is the lack of regulation. Careless pickers out to make a buck put sub-standard produce on the market leaving a bad impression on chefs trying some for the first time. Often these hacks don’t last, come in with a big batch, and collapse the prices, making it impossible for people who pick properly and respect the environment to compete. If you go further out (to unpolluted areas), pick just the tender tip, leave the root intact, and rotate land so as to be sustainable, you will inevitably have to charge more. But when buyers don’t know the product, they are skeptical about paying a fair price, and they are more likely to be duped, and ultimately disappointed. Even though fiddleheads are common, still many overly mature, polluted fiddleheads appear on the market every year; people don’t know to beware of low prices.

Moreover, there’s a disconnect between the botanists and beaurocrats working for the government, and the people with hands on experience like François. They need to team up somehow to provide a sensible framework for operation, standards for picking, picking permits, and zoning. There was a grassroots organization that people in the industry set up on their own with guidelines and collective goals, which was effective to a certain degree in the beginning, but has gotten bogged down by a conflict of private interests, low participation and has since become irrelevant.

As with projects like the Desjardins report’s reccomendations to the government for standardization and regulations in labelling local products with a Quebecois “appelations controlée” system, big change is complicated, it takes time and requires funding. Without much public interest, the government will not spend money there on research, documentation, or inspectors. But if people knew what they were missing out on, I think it might be different.

A cause that François holds close to his heart is the government’s banning of wild plants on the basis of endangerment, while every year, more acres of land rich in all these wild plants are being bull-dozed to make way for highways, superstores and condo developments. All that biodiversity, big chunks of our culinary history, are being erased just like that. François is fined if he picks the ramps they are going to destroy anyway. Ramps (wild garlic) are not illegal anywhere else by the way. Its only because Quebecois actually eat them, and ramps take a long time to reproduce. Which brings us to the issue of sustainability.

François claims (and has physically shown me) that many plants like wild ginger and crinkleroot, which the government has on the endangered list and wants to ban, have no problem reproducing if you pick them properly. In fact, they like a little trauma. They thrive if you cut off shoots, as long as you leave the root intact. It isn’t people that know how to pick like François that wipe out these plants, its the nurseries who go and rip out entire plants, root systems and all.

This just makes it obvious to me that there should be some kind of regulation, permits issued for people who respect the environment. But of course, its much easier to make a law outlawing the picking of all these plants instead of finding people to enforce proper picking and sustainability. François will have to fight for his right to continue his family’s legacy, and his livelihood.

I just find it unfortunate that before many people even find out about all these edible wild plants, they’re being wiped out, or their consumption outlawed for unneccesary reasons. They could only play a valuable role in our modern, thriving regional Quebecois cuisine.

I would not know about any of this if I hadn’t worked at L’Eau à la Bouche and dated François des bois. I feel privelaged because its made my experience as a chef richer. I want to spread the word, and I often push François to be more of a spokesperson and activist. But at the same time, I understand the difficulty of his situation. As one of the few leaders in the field, he would have to dedicate his life to educating, fighting for regulation, promoting a better understanding of wild plants, to make them them available on the market.

I understand that he belongs in the woods, not exchanging latin words with beaurocrats. I understand that being a pusher for chefs, living out of his van as he covered the province, training pickers year after year, didn’t earn him a secure living. He has been doing his part with passion and integrity for twenty odd years. He has worked with Québec’s top chefs, he’s been on numerous food shows, on the radio, in magazines, even Gourmet Magazine.

Now, all he wants to do is keep the flame alive, and do his little thing in the woods. I don’t blame him for wanting to stay put, tending to his simple woodland table, serving up his special weeds and mushrooms to people who come to him. As opposed to travelling about trying to sell something so misunderstood, and giving conferences, he’s found the woodland table to be the best way to introduce people to the wonderful world of wild food. To give it to them as a finished product with a good time at the table in a warm, bucolic setting, is more satisfying for everyone. People always leave happy, enlightened and excited. And he is doing what he likes best, sharing his passion, on a personal level. He doesn’t want to change the world. Neither do I, really. I just feel that people are in the dark about edible wild plants, and being a part of this wild world, I feel a duty to provide some scoop.

The disconnect in our food choices

by Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

The disconnect between the farm and the table has skewed our perspective. I believe its why our food systems are so screwed up. Its not because we are irrational and immoral people. Its simply because most of us don’t know where are food comes from.

It doesn’t make sense to me that people are all out of sorts over foie gras and lobster, but eat mass produced chicken and eggs from caged birds with their beaks cut off, and beef from corn-fed feedlot cattle, both much more troubling in essence and scale. Its not uncommon to meet affluent, educated people who are against the seal hunt, but eat endangered tuna, wear fur coats, and shop at Walmart. I can’t imagine them getting away with such incongruent behavior in other aspects of their lives. It all comes down to the disconnect.

When you know how a cheese is made, it seems reasonable to pay the price. You would never think of ordering your green beans over the internet from a stranger when your neighbor grows beautiful green beans. Because people don’t look at a package of skinless, boneless chicken breasts and picture what its life was like, they don’t feel sorry for it. Meanwhile they see the lobster alive and kicking, and scream bloody murder when they see it put into boiling water. Or they are grossed out by the idea of an oyster, eating something alive. They may eat chicken nuggets and wieners, but protest the sale of foie gras. They buy a glossy, perfectly shaped bell pepper, ignorant (or not) to the fact that its attractive appearance is the result of pesticides, industrialized mass production and problematic monoculture. They buy lettuce that comes from miles because it looks nice and clean in its package, instead of supporting a local farmer for a fresher, more nutritious product with a bit of dirt on it. They buy something because of the convenience, the packaging, or the price, without realizing the consequences of their purchases on the environment, or that workers were underpaid for these artificially low prices.

What influences people’s food choice rationale? Taste, education, nutrition, availability, price, trends, so many factors, its a complicated picture. One thing is for sure, it appears to be a very personal thing, and there isn’t enough common sense involved.

First of all, when it comes to the living things we eat, there’s the issue of what’s morally ok to eat. Sometimes what gets the green light is based on where a certain animal or foodstuff is situated in the hierarchy on the food chain. But there often isn’t much logic at play here either. Yes to the dumb turkey, absolutely not to the cute bunny rabbit. Many argue that.there are lines easy to draw between an oyster, a fish, and a mammal based on level of consciousness. They say its the natural order of things. Others care more about how humanely the animal was raised, how it was killed, and if it is from a sustainable source. Many follow a scheme based on religion or tradition. Availability and necessity are all others people care about, the lowest price, whatever they can afford. Still others at the other end of the spectrum think its about the ability to feel pain, in which case, all living creatures are out.

However, with most omnivores, what seems more important in determining whether someone will eat something or not, beyond their ethnic origin, is how far the consumer is from the source. The less people know about where their food comes from, the less they seem to have a problem with it. Isn’t that f-ed up? You’d think it should be the opposite, for health and safety reasons if anything. With a local purchase, you can support someone who you know does things right, you are voting with your dollar, you have control that you don’t have in a mass market. Also, I think that just being close, being aware of an animal’s life and death, might make you feel better knowing it was humanely raised and so suffered the least possible. It might also make you appreciate and have more respect for the animal, as the Indians demonstrate in their rituals that thank the animal for giving them its life. If the truth unsettles a diner so much, than perhaps he/she shouldn’t be eating it in the first place, its hypocritical.

If people really knew how everything was produced, they would make very different choices, undoubtedly. Why isn’t this information more available? It takes full time food detectives like Michael Pollan to even get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes. Its our food supply, and we know very little about it. Its not surprising that we have so many conflicting opinions about our food.

Its a complicated affair to be fully in the know, especially in this new globalized economy with most people living in cities, far away from the farm. And with our busy lives, the many other things to think about, no one can be expected to be perfectly virtuous in their food choices. I just think people should be more informed, so that they can make their decisions based on something more than what a celebrity says or what the ads suggest. Afterall, we make food choices everyday, and they impact our bodies, our personal lives, as well as those of our neighbors, both nearby and around the globe, not to mention our eco-system and planet.

We’ve been too busy in our modern, over-taxed lives trying to be efficient in getting food on the table fast, trying new exotic ingredients from afar and buying processed food, we unconsciously let major agri-business and advertising take over, and lost track of what was going on in our backyards and supermarkets, and ultimately what’s going into our stomachs. We can reclaim control over our food supply by asking questions, following the lead of organizations like Equiterre, Slowfood, Organic growers…. and just ultimately following our palates and good sense. I encourage you to use your head people.