soupnancy

If only all days out foraging looked like this..

“I have wild garlic in my back yard. What do I do with it?”

“Where can I find ramps in Quebec?”

“How do I pick them?”

“Am I breaking the law?”

“Wow, you have ramps! Can we have some?”

So many ramp inquiries. Let me attack a few.

If you have ramps (ail des bois) in your backyard, I suggest you just cut off some of the leaves. You can chop them up and throw them into any salad, sandwich or dish. I have been using it everywhere in the past weeks: in shrimp or lobster salad, in green salad, on tomato-bocconcini salad, on pizza, in a cheese sandwich, in mashed potatoes or risotto, on warm buttered fiddleheads, in any soup or sauce..

If you want the bulbs, you just dig in with your fingers and feel around, pull gently and slice the bulb at the base. You want to leave the root strings in tact, if you want them to come back. The bulb is good used in the same ways as regular garlic, but it is more delicate, so it doesn't need to be cooked as much or even at all, if you like the fresh, pungent flavour. I know many people who love to eat them whole in their natural glory; they are popular pickled too. While the leaves are to be used as a fresh herb, I think the bulb is best sliced (as opposed to chopped) and just kissed by heat, thrown into the pan at the end, or onto a pasta or hot dish. If overcooked, it loses all its personality.

We mostly just use the leaves though, for several reasons. For one, it is their floral, mild (for garlic) flavour we prefer. And since it is illegal to exploit ramps commercially, we only use them at home, for family and friends. Actually, in Quebec, you aren't allowed to be caught with more than 50 bulbs. Harvesting ramps is banned in Quebec because the plant was disappearing from over-picking. Ramps are a long loved tradition in rural Quebec, and people were eating them to extinction. Since the demand was there, overzealous and ambitious pickers were pulling up the roots, not only for personal use, but to sell. Since it is a plant that is slow to grow and reproduce, it became threatened. If only it was harvested correctly, all would be fine, but unfortunately, there are always a few bad apples to spoil the fun. Meanwhile, in Ontario, New England and everywhere else, they are still regularly ripped out by the roots and sold at markets.

The last reason why François shaves off all the leaves in his patches on our property is to safeguard them from ramp loving thieves! Without the leaves, no one can know the precious plants are there. Plus we are assured of a bountiful return every year. Sure, we will snag a few bulbs over the course of the season, but always ever so carefully.

We need to make some ramp butter after all (usually coupled with the bite of crinkleroot that so happens to grow in unison with ramps) to pull out when a lobster comes our way, or for the odd grilled cheese sandwich. We will put up a batch for François’ family too, and that’s it. For us, ramps are one of the supremely seasonal things that we celebrate for a few weeks and then leave be.

At a catering event last week for a friend, because it is the height of spring, we used them liberally everywhere, and it was a hit. All guests were instructed to munch on a leaf upon entry to break the ice – everyone that night would smell like garlic and that was it. It would surface in every other dish amidst the 8 course meal, and they were drinking Champagne, fine Burgundy, Amarone, Sauterne etc. - no matter. It provided the main joke (and magic) of the evening.

Spring sandwich ramps, Tomme de Maréchal cheese, pickled pepper

tomato-crinkleroot shrimp with ramp leaves and trout lily

As the fiddlehead season peaks, I am just making sure they are on your culinary radar. I wouldn't want you to miss out on such an essential part of spring fever, that first taste of local green crunch. They are now plentiful at the market. François is certainly doing brisk business.

Most people are enchanted, but it's obvious that the poor fern is still misunderstood by many. Some poeple are scared of food poisoning; others have been turned off due to prior poor taste experiences.

Both of these are the result of inadequate washing or cooking. The thing is, fiddleheads need to be washed and cooked in lots of salted water. Many people seem shocked by our cooking instructions that suggest a double blanch(for 2-3 min each), then refreshing them in an ice cold bath. This is our way of optimizing maximum cooking time and water flushing, while preserving texture and colour. Of course this isn't necessary - the key is lots of boiling water. If you boil them in a sufficient amount of water, you can use a shorter cooking time (say 5-6 minutes) instead of the 15 minutes the government agency reccomends. That edict is to scare people from eating them raw and to provide a safeguard against all that can go wrong: not cleaning, or cooking them in a small pot, or happening on a bad batch due to careless picking or from a polluted source.

Besides cooking, the key to taste quality is your source, andfreshness, of course. If you buy fiddleheads from the supermarket that have been bought on the cheap (from who knows where) and then sprayed and sprayed while they wilt away in the display case, then those government guidlines are for you. If you buy fresh fiddleheads from a good source, then our guidelines are fine.

I saw an article on the new Gazette food blog about fiddleheads. http://communities.canada.com/montrealgazette/blogs/shopchopeat/archive/2009/05/05/fiddleheads-now-i-understand-you.aspxThe author claimed she didn't really like fiddleheads but then admitted she had never blanched them before.. No wonder. She was also surprised by the sheet slipped into her bag with cooking instructions. (That's when I knew they were ours). She didn't appear to be completely turned around when it comes to fiddleheads, but she did say that these were the nicest she had come across. Why didn't she mention the vendor, I wonder? Maybe that's our marketing/PR problem. But still, I think that when food quality so depends on the source and/or the producer, all food journalists and shoppers should be taking note.

The more people talk about provenance and question quality, the more it becomes part of mainstream consumer practice, so that ultimately, local producers doing things right will be favoured over hackers, and sketchy food from big industry that is trucked in from afar or from some indeterminate provinence will be shunned. I don't want nutritional numbers on my labels, I want information on the source. At the fish store or at the meat counter, I want to know where a food item comes from; is it wild or farmed, by who and how, organic, natural or not. Ok, I'm ontoanother topic, stop. Back to fiddleheads, before their time is up:

An article on Fiddleheads I wrote for the Cuisine Canada blog: Fiddleheads leading the parade where they do a better job of presenting my work than me, pictures and all.

http://cuisinecanada.wordpress.com/

And more recipes from a post a couple of years back:

http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/whats-cooking-recipes/2008/5/17/fiddleheads.html

Spring has sprung.  These first pictures are from last week.  François worked hard to collect the first ten pounds of fiddleheads (seen below), out in his canoe, wearing his rubber boot - body suit.  Just a few days later, it's an altogether different story, as the weather wants to jump to summer while skipping spring.  The fiddleheads are now out en masse, and eager pickers are following, down on their knees, in full force, working hard on our property.  By next week end, we will hopefully have enough to keep up with the market, where everyone is anxious for something local and green.  The girls are picking greens and flowers too, so more exciting salad mixes are on the horizon.  My kitchen smells green and floral again with the dog's tooth, day lily sprouts and ramp leaves - how invigorating.  All the better as I move into fiddlehead processing mode and swifter business in general - the season is off to a roaring start! 

I will add pictures and notes as the season progresses. 

 first fiddleheads                                     

erythrone, rampsclaytonie de caroline violet

  day lily sprouts live-forever snow crab nordic shrimp candy  

snow crab: worth the work guinea hen, quinoa, asparagus, day lily sprouts shrimp 'sushi salad' with wild greens

Have you ever tasted a fresh chick pea?

François brought me a pound of the first Nordic shrimp of the season back from the market today, and since this is my “dada” (weakness), I hardly noticed the bag of green things idling on the counter. When I saw them, I became excited again – what, green almonds?? This was almost too much for one night. When he told me they were chickpeas, I was taken aback.

It is not every day that I am faced with a complete stranger in the kitchen, although I love the feeling – the childlike discovery, engaging all the senses in trying to figure out what to do with a foreign specimen. I slid one little green jewel out of its perfect oval pod. It was so loose in its skin like it wanted out, I popped into my mouth; it tasted fresh and herbaceous in the raw state, crunchy like a regular fresh pea. Very nice, but I couldn’t help but think it might be even better. I wanted to cook the lot.

But I had a few guests sitting in the dining room, and I knew that if I got to shucking these babies, dinner would be served hours later. Besides, I already had the meal planned and on the go. I didn’t want to make my dinner party wait. However, as a chef, I could hardly push such a specialty item aside out of inconvenience; I would feel soo guilty knowing that these delicacies were at their freshest only to be sitting in my fridge, their sweetness turning to starch as we ate our fish.

No, now was the time to serve them. So, I decided to throw them into boiling water for a minute or two, then sprinkled them with some salt and chilli oil, thinking how good edamame are that way. Like with whole peanuts, let the noshers do the work. The “kids” could pick on that, sucking the nuggets from their skins themselves, while I fixed dinner. They turned out great - everyone was surprised!

I now know I love fresh chick peas, but chances are I will never shuck another. For most recipes, I will remain with the naked, dried variety. But in season, the fresh peas make for a sublime snack, especially when you leave the work to your guests, which makes them only taste better and go further anyway.

Back from NYC with a spring in my step

And a new perspective on hydrocolloids

I flew down to the big apple to take an advanced studies class at the French Culinary Institute: Magic Potions: Hydrocolloids. For those of you who don’t know, hydrocolloids are gelling and thickening agents composed of sugar chains basically- things like agar, carageenan, locust bean gum, gum Arabic, cellulose based methocel and xanthan, and gellan. Initially exploited in the food industry, they are now being a

pplied more artfully to fine cooking by chefs for enhanced flavours, new textures and forms. We were also introduced to some enzymes like Transglutimase (meat glue), Corelase and Pectinase (used to clarify), with all the latest technology on display to jazz up the demonstrations and make us envious.

This kind of cooking falls into the domain of ‘Molecular gastronomy’, which by the way is a ‘bad’ word according to just about everyone in the field. But whatever, it is the term that is most widely used to umbrella all these new techniques, you know what I mean.

The class was intense, very high calibre; the teachers were great - tops in the field: David Arnold (the science/tech guy and inventor of some of the tools you see) and Nils Noren (the chef with the mettle, formerly of Aquavit, ‘back when it was great’). My time with them was definitely inspirational; it was a lot to take in, and my brain still hurts. My wining and dining by night probably didn’t help that.

 Nils, David and his hot poker

  David's pimped up mixer the carbonator                        It was a good thing for my faint science background, and that I had read Harold great burger: the cheese is a gel, but this tasted amazing because Nils fried the patties to set then cooked them gently sousvide in suet to refry for crisp, served with a cassis liquid gel like ketchupMcGee, Hervé This and dabbled a bit, or I would not have gotten much out of the barrage of terms, temperatures, methods and unconventional dishes. Most of the chefs in attendance had significantly more hands on experience than me with this stuff, there to fine tune their tricks and ask specific questions.

Surrounded by this set, I half wondered what I was doing there at all. The thing is, I’ve been gradually moving away from this movement, as my main focus has been on a more natural ingredient driven cuisine with less manipulation. It’s hard to picture ‘Les Jardins Sauvages’ and ‘hydrocolloids’ meshing. Thinking back to my first experiments in ‘molecular gastronomy’ (or whatever you want to call it), although fruitful, I was left with Anne’s voice resonating in my head, ‘mais c’est tu vraiment bon?’ ‘Would you walk a mile on your elbows to eat this?’ (loose translation). After the novelty wore off, I came to the realization that old fashioned mayonnaise was often better than a new fangled one, that a chocolate mousse objectively had better mouth feel with cream than without. Even if I embraced sousvide for certain applications and adopted foams for layering effects when I wanted flavour without fat, I remembered that many cuts are just fine roasted, pan-seared or braised, and that Chantilly remains the best foam of all. I wasn’t inclined to carry on the ‘for chefs only’ somersaults for the sake of it. The fact is the average customer does not care what acrobatics you are doing in the kitchen. They only care if it is delicious or not. Taste should always be the main goal, not presentation tricks. Of course there is a small market for food as theatre (like chez El Bulli or WD50), but we’re not that, our spotlight is supposed to be on the wild stuff. Nonetheless, I always stayed tuned into the scene somewhat out of curiosity, regularly marvelling at what these avant garde chefs were doing. While I shrugged most of it off, I remained intrigued, and aware that the landscape had changed enormously in the last few years. I knew deep down that there was something to this and that I should be paying attention.

But I signed up for this class mainly because I wanted to learn something new, ANYTHING. Of the classes on offer, it was the one fit into my schedule, and the one I knew the least about. Regardless of how rustic our place is, I’m still fancy Nancy and no matter how simple I say I want to cook, it never is, I can’t help it. And I do want to stay up to date with what’s going on on the cutting edge; I don’t want to become a dinosaur. Of course, I’m always looking for a good excuse to go to NYC too. I was dying to be around other chefs, to learn instead of teach for a change, to come back inspired and juiced, which is what any conference, class or trip does for me.

Mission accomplished. This class certainly opened my mind, challenging it to stretch in all directions. All of a sudden, so many different things become mind boggling possible, when you remove the constraints of hot and cold, and stop thinking only along the lines of gelatine, cornstarch and eggs. It requires learning a new language and new rules, retraining your instincts as a chef. With each new ingredient, there is a new set of properties.. While gelatine sets cold and melts at 55C, others melt at closer to boiling or stay solid hot, then run cold. Some don’t work in acidic conditions; others need or are activated by calcium, some set slowly, and others quickly, then stay that way or not. To stir or not to stir; to freeze or not to freeze. Specific dispersing and hydrating become ultra important, grams and degrees too, you can’t hack around. All of this sucks for an old school chef who likes a pinch of this and that. No, this is about scaling and precision and spec sheets. BUT! You can produce air out of essence, clarify a juice or stock without cooking it (preserving flavours), get a sauce to that perfect consistency in a flash, and have it coat a protein hot so it doesn’t slide off. You can turn liquids to solids or solids to liquids on a whim, and serve hot liquids in separate layers. You can deep-fry mayonnaise, brulée foams, serve ice cream hot (this is arguably not ice cream), make hot buttered drinks that don’t separate, and serve carbonated sauces that hold… Talk about really playing with your food.

I can’t help but think I could fiddle with many of my classics to make them better, how I could so simply perfect our wild grape balsamic aesthetically; but then, do I want ‘Xanthan’ and ‘tartaric acid’ on our ingredient list? The acids are not hydrocolloids, but a part of the arsenal and approach, you see. A recipe with apple would be more appropriately boosted with malic acid than lemon juice (as I normally do). And why not? But clients might think the product is less natural or of inferior quality with additives they don’t understand; it’s the wine screw cap phenomenon. And like with screw caps, I’m sold, but not everybody is.

That’s the thing with these magic potions.  Despite the reputation of hydrocolloids, it’s not really about adding ‘chemicals’ to food. All of these ingredients are natural in that they are derived from seaweed, cellulose, seeds, tree sap or fermentation, no more foreign than sugar or starch. A few of the latest ones come from microbes. They are also used in such small quantities, and if applied properly with taste as the primary goal (not shelf life or productivity like in industry), it not only allows for prettier plates and surprising textures, but potentially a purer taste, so that a beet taste more like a beet. Our teachers reiterated this, reminding us that hydrocolloids were just innocuous tools that could be used to noble ends or not, treated well or poorly. Their ‘no bullshit’ analysis of each product and what is going on in the field offered me an enlightened perspective on the whole game.  Although I would still rather use ingredients in their natural form (say eggs or lemon juice), there is nothing inherently wrong with using a hydrocolloid when these aren't ideal for the task.  We use powdering gelatine or sugar or starch (all extracted from their natural form) without thinking twice; it's no different, it's just that these powders are less familiar and have unpronouncable names, poor guys.

Some of these products and techniques make so much sense. I know that many are here to stay, transforming the way we cook in professional kitchens - new tools in our toolbox. Anyhow, it’s about time mainstream cooking evolved beyond the ways of a century ago; especially equipment wise, it can’t hurt.

No matter how seductive these tricks are, I’m not too sure how much of it I will end up using. I will cherry pick. First of all, I can rule a bunch out because I just don’t have the expensive toys or space or staff. François was very scared I would come back with all these costly requests. No, I am realistic. I will be lucky to get a circulator on Ebay.

However, I will definitely revisit agar, for the liquid gels. (I thought I hated agar). I can’t wait to play with my meat glue (I’ve often wished for it, say to make a roast uniform, and this week, I will try it). The methocel for eggless meringue and foams really interests me. That’s because I tasted a brilliant, delicate, shattering passion fruit macaron (dehydrated foam) that Nils made. This is a great example of the hydrocolloid providing a purer flavour that would otherwise be diluted by the egg. I was intrigued by the ‘caviar’, but now, I’m less enamoured since alginate caviar are tricky, need to me made à la minute, and the taste of the product is masked, deteriorating quickly. But then, the reverse alginate method shows promise (that’s the ‘egg yolk’ Bo), so who knows. If I have time to tinker, I could very well get carried away. It’s fun stuff.

Because my heart lies with traditional food, while everyone else in the class wrestled for reservations at Wylie’s WD50, Taylor and other hot spots known for doing these new science tricks, I went to Babbo and Momofuku (to their puzzled looks).

At Babbo, I had a blast, but the food didn’t exactly blow me away. It was certainly very good; zippy, bold flavours and delectable sauces, generous portions (too much for me). I had shrimp with radish, fennel, sea beans in a jalapeno vinaigrette (very nice, except for the swampy tasting shrimp), black pasta with pancetta and parsnips, quail with scorzonera and saba,; I also tasted goose foie gras ravioli and fennel dusted sweetbreads with duck bacon and sweet vinegar onions thanks to my neighbours… Some interesting wines too like a white Nebiolo.

Momofuku Saam Bar was amazing! Surprising, a party in your mouth, great ambiance, super friendly service, very reasonable. Of course, I had the famous pork belly buns (wow), a hamachi dish with edamame, horseradish and peas, some oysters with kimchi consommé, and I loved-loved-loved the calamari salad. The fried brussel sprouts in fish sauce vinaigrette, and the spicy pork sausage, Chinese greens and fried rice cake dish were equally delish, again tasting from my ‘friends for the night’s plates. There were delectable sweetbreads as well, with chestnut and mushrooms. Overall, this food was not incredibly complicated, yet unique, fresh, interesting, and super tasty. I would love to try Ko, his more upscale 14 seat tasting menu place, but for that I would need a serious date, more time and $$.

I also visited a teeny wine bar with loads of personality and tons of good wines by the glass in the East Village called Terroir, owned by the same guys as Hearth (apparently one of the partners is from To.).

        As you can see, although I might not have come near a hydrocolloid in my outings, I wined and dined like a queen on my own, but never alone, always surrounded by interesting people who loved food as much as me. At all restaurants, people were so nice, pouring me wine, even inviting me to taste their dishes! I found everyone in NYC so beyond friendly (except for bus-drivers and taxi-drivers – who can blame them?).

Such a mix of sights and sensations, such a treat. So much food for the brain, the heart, and the soul. Gotta love NYC.

As we gear up for maple season, we have our fingers crossed for a good one. Excited by a trickle here and there, it is still hard to tell how it will turn out; it needs to warm up, all while staying frosty at night.

Read my article about our favourite source of sugar, the red maple (The other maple) ,on the Cuisine Canada blog. http://cuisinecanada.wordpress.com/2009/03/24/red-maple-the-other-maple/

Even if it isn't a bang-up maple year, there is reason to smile. We spotted the first sprouts next to the melting snow today, March 24 - may be a record! It is obvious that again this year, the ground didn't freeze (with herbs still holding up since last year..), and is gorgedwith water, which has François predicting that it will be a good mushroom year indeed.

I am so sick of people talking to me about foie gras..

I seldom eat it, I serve it on special occasions, I am a fairly ethical chef in general.. Why me? And enough already anyway.

I don’t love it, I don’t hate it, I don’t have a problem with it really, probably because I grew up in the French influenced province of Québec where food, tradition and indulgence (joie de vivre) are deep rooted in the cultural fabric.

But apparently many people (not around me, but on line) do have a problem with it. So, maybe we should all stop serving it. No matter how traditional or yummy it is to many people. Even if it is not any more inhumane than most of the meat we eat, perhaps it is something that we should rethink. But that largely comes down to the vegetarian –meat eating debate the way I see it. And this is a sub-sub-sub category. Like I have said before, foie gras is a luxury, specialty item, consumed by few, largely produced by small family style operations. In other words, a blip on the scale of our omnivorous dilemmas - nothing compared to the crass, mass produced chicken in cages, the corn, petroleum and antibiotic fed beef, the equally antibiotic ridden and environmentally destructive farmed shrimp and salmon, the un-fair trade coffee, chocolate, and every other industrial thing the vast majority of the western population consumes daily in huge quantities. If you saw how your factory farmed chicken breasts or snow peas or shrimp or chocolate bars or T-shirts were produced, you would be horrified - for the health risks, for environmental concerns, for the slave labour and so much more.. altogether far worse than a few ducks that naturally gorge by design, being fed an excessive amount of corn.

So, just when I thought I’d heard it all on this subject, I got a call alerting me to a contest for making faux foie gras!

Making faux foie gras, the contest: http://www.peta.org/FauxFoieGrasChallenge/

I couldn’t be less interested. I don’t even understand.

First of all, how do you make vegetarian foie gras? I’m a cook, not a lab scientist. This is obviously a call to those anti-foie, creative molecular gastronomy dudes (I wonder how many of them are out there?) or maybe agribusiness food science geeks. Such a task calls for ‘meat glue’, emulsifiers, stabilizers, all kinds of chemicals no doubt, and then maybe some fatty vegetable like avocado, some chicken bits, who knows, who cares.. It recalls the once novel but ultimately HUGE aberration that was Margarine, and industrial, processed food in general. The idea of manipulating elements, concocting seductive pseudo-foods marketed for convenience and profit, like all those trans fats and refined sugars - think the biggest mistakes of the last few decades. The opposite of real food! I’m against it.

If you don’t want to eat foie gras, then don’t. If you don’t want to eat meat then don’t. I don’t get this contest, or any of that fancier vegetarian restaurant fare that embraces the concept of making foodstuff look and taste like meat. If you want to eschew meat, then vegetables, grains and legumes are good enough on their own. You can make them tasty without shaping them into meat and crustacean shapes with chemical help, less manipulation is better anyway. I eat vegetables all the time, I rarely eat meat, I know. But I also know that a little meat is probably a good thing. Not only does your body tell you so, but read this when you get a chance .. http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/im-a-natural-born-killer/

All to say I’m not too sure why I’m getting so much attention from both pro and anti foie crusaders; the few times I’ve spoken about it, I feel like I made my stance clear. http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/blog-journalessays/2007/7/22/foie-gras.html

It seems that I was diplomatic enough to have encouraged all kinds of people to write to me, and many yahoos who don’t seem to have gotten what I was saying. No, I don’t think they ever read any of it. They just saw a site where foie gras was being debated and so wanted to insert their propaganda. If they post it on my site, I leave it. If they send it to me as an email, I delete it. I’m willing to engage in dialogue, but with them, there is no dialogue, they have their mind made up, they assume I do too; with no arguments, with an aggressive ‘like it’s so obviously bad because it’s cruel’ kind of attitude, they so turn me off. I would let their words rest on my site if they had the guts to do so, just not in my personal inbox. Like I said before, I would like to see what’s in their fridge and cupboard before taking them seriously -if they are those two-faced unconscious people who eat mass produced chicken breasts from Costco and have never spent any time in nature, haven’t met a hunter in their life or a seal outside a PETA video, never think about where their own food comes from, but then are against foie production - no it doesn’t add up, and I can’t deal. I’m just so tired of that debate.

I have our duck event coming up, so I will be serving foie gras. After that, I don’t know, we’ll see. But it’s going to come down to being more about what my customers say than what these guys say. I have my finger out in the wind, I am flexible, but at this point, it seems that foie makes Quebeckers happy, they’re not quite willing to give it up as a special occasion, celebratory kind of thing. And without any moral high ground I feel solid on, I am willing to accommodate them, at least once a year.

The funny thing is that when it comes to fish, I’m quite a bit more opinionated, I don’t leave it up to the customers at all. I have been avoiding over fished species for years, to the surprise of any fish monger I came across, I was causing a ruckus 5 years ago .. But it’s because to me, especially now, that is much more black and white as an issue; we have devastated our waters with undeniable detriment to the planet, and it’s currently an incredibly neglected cause. Fish as we knew it no longer exist, thanks to trawlers, greedy governments and their indiscriminate technology (ours too), and uninformed eaters of course. The marine eco-system has long collapsed. We have no choice but to choose to eat from the bottom of the food chain and to research the particular sustainable fisheries, anything else is truly criminal or just insane even health wise.. (‘Bottomfeeder’ by Taras Grescoe is a must read BTW). Thankfully, oysters are still good. As long as we have oysters, who needs foie gras. But seriously, we have to be more worried about our fish than our ducks. And I have better things to do than try to simulate foie gras, thank you.

The Green Pan- An early X-mas gift from a friend put one of these babies in my hands. I would never have bought into the marketing at first sight, but how happy am I to have it in my kitchen now? Very. (Thanks Rach!)It’s a non-stick fry pan without the toxic properties at high temperatures, with a significantly lower carbon footprint in production and life. I’ve tried it with eggs, fish, duck, beef, veal, vegetables.. all with great results. At low heat, nice sweating and heat control/conductivity, and most importantly, at high heat, a good sear with little fat required, no muss no fuss, no sticking, easy to clean. I don’t know how it would stand up to commercial use, but for the home, there is no doubt that this is a winner. Buy one for the cook in your life (or for yourself). Available in most kitchen stores, I also saw it at Zone. www.green-pan.com

Green pans aside.. in order to reconcile holiday gift giving and my principles of sensible consumption, I put a little work into my shopping and think hard about my purchases in attempt to be as ethical, green as possible all without being too rigid, still keeping the fun alive. For me that means a lot of cooking (because that’s what I do), and besides, I think the best gifts are home cooked or hand-made, something hand crafted by a local artisan, or at least unique and meaningful in some way, preferably not mass-produced in China. Fortunately, quality and taste usually go hand in hand with the local or fair-trade, artisanal, and sustainable choices.. So here are my suggestions mainly along those lines..

In the home cooking category, you can always volunteer to host/make X-mas dinner - now there's the hugest gift of all, especially for a weary Mom (my Mom is exempt for the rest of her life). The next best bet is baking, making classic shelf stable sweets like cookies, that way you can get it out of the way the week before the madness. Apart from truffles, traditional shortbread and gingerbread, I once made fortune cookies (with food jokes inside), all kinds of trippy flavoured chocolates, spice mixes, spiced nuts, buttercrunch and brittle, hot sauce.. I always dig into my mason jar preserves for housewarming gifts, I religiously make a zillion game meat tourtières, some foie torchon for the usual suspects, as well as miscellaneous other treats. This year Iwill be making big batch of cassoulet (François' request), some soup of course, and who knows what else. Customers will be taking up most of my time this X-mas, so that might be it, we'll see ..

For those of you hitting the stoves:

See Canadian Living Christmas book or site, Gourmet magazine, Martha Stewart or Ricardo X-mas issues. Fine Cooking also has a great holiday baking guide out. There's also a wealth of ideas to inspire you online:

Bon Appetit’s Blog envy: A great holiday recipe roundup from popular blogs http://www.doriegreenspan.com/dorie_greenspan/2008/12/blog-envy-a-great-holiday-recipe-roundup.html

Canadian Living - 9 cookie recipes http://www.canadianliving.com/food/menus_and_collections/cookie_recipes__in_cookie_heaven.php

All kinds of holiday recipes and tips at Gourmet http://www.gourmet.com/recipes/holiday

Gingerbread cookies http://www.elise.com/recipes/archives/001633gingerbread_man_cookies.php

For those of you purchasing gifts in Montreal:

There’s Dix Mille Villages on Monkland (or on St-Denis) for hand-crafted, fair-trade gems such as pottery, wooden toys, X-mas ornaments and trinkets. http://www.tenthousandvillages.ca

La Maison Verte for the ideal housewarming gift, stocking stuffer or more: essential oil based gifts for her, ‘Les Chocolats de Sandra’ fair trade locally made chocolates, Café Rico coffee, and miscellaneous green items to turn someone on to the options out there, be it cleaning products, clothes or bamboo.. You can even shop online now. http://www.cooplamaisonverte.com/

Salon des Metiers d’Art at Place Bonaventure up until this week-end, for an overwhelming assortment of Quebec arts and crafts http://www.metiers-d-art.qc.ca/smaq/

The Jean Talon Market for gourmet edibles, many gift baskets to be had. Philippe de Vienne’s shop (Olives et Épices) is an unbeatabe place for foodie gifts. As is Quincaillerie Dante on the periphery.

Quebec made gourmet gift baskets online http://www.clindoeilgourmet.com/

A good bottle of wine is always nice, jamais de trop.. Many people won’t spend on a bottle for themselves, so I find this to be a nice treat. But splurging is not necessary, I tasted a fantastic local sparkling cider, perfect for the holidays and only 5% alcohol: Domaine de Minot, available at Marché des Saveurs. La Face Caché also has one out in a sharp package, I will be trying that one this weekend..

101 Produits Quebecois à découvrir http://www.editionsgoelette.com/site.php?detail=295

Or see my smart shopping page for tips on local food and arstisanal goods, online eco-guides.. http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/smart-shopping/

And More Shopping Online:

For Charity, A BRILLIANT idea: 

Unicef Gifts of Magic https://www.shopunicef.ca/ec/Portal.aspx?CN=32C5B8993DA5&MN=B2039D949889&LN=EN

Order a sugar shack special at the Endless Banquet, buyraffle ticketsor donate to the UN food program.. http://endlessbanquet.blogspot.com/2008/12/menu-for-hope-5.html

 Send a gift in support of the David Suzuki Foundation http://www.davidsuzuki.org/Donation_Centre/ecards.asp?tr=y&auid=4339335

Liquid Smudge - My mom introduced me to this ambient spray called ‘Liquid smudge’ that is revitalizing, peace and harmony inducing, the supposed cure for all ailments.. Sounds like a bunch of ‘n’importe quoi’, but it does smell amazing; it’s a mix of essential oils.. www.invocation.ca

In the Junky but fun category:

Lee Valley tools for miscellaneous gadgets for the men in your life (or for spice boxes and the original micro-plane if anyone you know doesn’t have one – no brainer!)

Gifts for Bacon lovers

http://www.seriouseats.com/2008/12/bacon-lovers-gifts-guide-holidays.html

Then there’s always BOOKS, BOOKS, BOOKS:

Books I’ve come across recently that I highly recommend:

The Devil’s Picnic, by Taras Grescoe (and Bottomfeeder, his latest)

In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan (not new, but I think everyone should read it and it’s an easy read)

Brain fuel, by Joe Schwarctz – fun for any curious mind

Cookbooks:

La Cuisine et le gout des épices, Ethneé et Philippe de Vienne

Anita Stewart’s Canada

(Only for cooks):

Under Pressure, Thomas Keller

Ma Gastronie, by Fernand Point republished

Canada’s top ten cookbooks http://www.thetelegram.com/index.cfm?sid=192802&sc=85

For Kids:

There’s a barnyard in my bedroom, David Suzuki – bringing nature into our urban landscape for perspective, also ‘The Salmon Forest’

Whining and Dining, by Emma Waverman and Eshon Mott – cooking for kids, with real food and enough flavour for adults

If there ever was an artisan to support.. There’s this Algonquin guy my mom met who writes books for kids (in English/French) and (English/Algonquin), beautiful and informative for a kid from here I would think (examples: ‘Where is the wolf?’, ‘Strange spring’)

Jean Denis Coté is his name, to order:

jdcote07ågmail.com, http://www.aaao.ca/cote.htm

A day of foraging – just what the doctor ordered

Oh and then there’s that upcoming mushroom extravaganza of mine too, for which I am still waiting on 9 out of the 22 varieties with less than two weeks to go (more urgent than any doctor’s orders). So with an uncertain mushroom future and a desire to get out of the kitchen for a day, it was time to get out there and hunt. We decided to tag along as François went on a prospecting run to check on some of his spots. It’s only good for cooks to get out in the woods every once and a while. For the therapeutic effects, but also to value the work and good fortune behind the mushrooms they are cooking up.. The quiet of the woods was somewhat broken by the regular neophyte questioning calls out to François, but despite the badgering breaking his communion with nature, I think he was happy to have so many extra pairs of hands.

François reaches for an autumn oyster sometimes you need a stick

Theo and a patch of shaggy mane

On our field trip, we never lucked into a mega patch of anything, but we found a bit of all sorts: yellow-brown boletus, larch boletus, blewits, a few delicious lactarius, even a couple of chanterelles, some clitocybe, some shaggy mane, one chicken mushroom, some autumn oysters (those were a lot of work). Overall, it was a good day. Stéphanie didn’t get lost in the woods, Theo didn’t fall out of any trees, no one got hit with a stray bullet (it is hunting season after all). And we got a good dose of enthusiasm for what is to come – the autumn varieties are really only starting. We clocked in ten hours or so (five people) and came back with a half trunk load, hardly remarkable, but promising. It was enough for a feast in any case; we scoffed down a meal of veal with bolete and polypore sauce, and sautéed oysters served purely on the side, (and a tomato salad with crusty bread, of course), sweet. It no longer mattered that our knees and fingers were stained brown, that we were exhausted or that we hadn’t gotten anything else done that day.

3 guys, 1 mushroomBut then, there was poor Theo who fell into the stinging nettle a few too many times while caught up in securing his oysters from the heavens, who also ended up with his car in the ditch on the way home. I guess there is a price to pay for all out mushroom fever.

chicken mushroom

The progress of a cèpe d'automne in our yard over the course of a few days- amazing!

Day 1

Day 3

Day 5

Caprese Salad

To fiddle or not to fiddle

I’ve just eaten the same simple tomato salad, three nights in a row, and wow. I’ve been eating pretty solid tomatoes all summer, but they are tasting soo great right now. I might just be clinging onto the last tastes of summer as the nights get colder. I’m already sad to see the greens go (I bought some cultivated arugula last week for the first time), but with the abundance of late harvest veg, it’s not feeling like such a big deal yet. Not to mention that I’m forever distracted by the stops and starts of the mushroom season (I’m still waiting on half the varieties). But oh, when the tomatoes go though, that will be tragic. Good thing I love autumn. And good thing I managed to find the time to execute my annual ‘Operation Tomate’, canning 60L of tomato sauce, without which I don’t know how I would ever survive winter.

As I sat there admiring my wall of brilliant red mason jars, revelling in my fresh tomato thoughts after finishing off yet another lip smacking tomato salad, I thought I should get some of this tomato love on paper. But then I realized that I’ve done that many times before. I put down my pen and paper and began catching up on my internet reading material, until I came across this. What, why, no, you have got to be kidding!? I had no choice but to pick up my pen again.

Check it out - A beautiful deconstructed, reconstructed (however you want to call it), nouvelle ‘Insalata Caprese’! Peeled heirloom tomatoes, injected with basil oil, mozzarella balloon filled with tomato water foam, olive oil powder, basil gel "leaves", balinese sea salt.  http://www.playingwithfireandwater.com/foodplay/2008/09/insalata-caprese.html

Kinda neat, but really, why bother? These chefs are CRAZY.

Maybe I’m just getting old and lazy.. Maybe it’s because the summer season is winding down and the tomatoes are at their best, and that I was still relishing the lingering tastes of my most delicious field tomato salad with fresh cheese, a good EVO with chili and coarse salt. Or maybe it’s just that I had just finished a crazy week in the kitchen cooking more complicated food (but nowhere near as complicated as that Playing with fire and water stuff above).. Altogether, the idea of fiddling with the Caprese at this time of year just irked me.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love to fiddle. And sometimes you have to fiddle with food to make it special. Sometimes too, you just feel like tinkering because you’re a cook and that’s what you do; and sometimes you just have no choice because customers are paying for something they can't make at home. But at other times, all that fiddling can be counterproductive, and seem just plain wrong.

The point of manipulating and cooking ingredients (ie.fiddling) usually involves necessary transformation to a more palatable form or at least embellishment of some sort. With perfectly ripe produce though, it more likely only means time lost and inherent denaturing of the product.

This ‘Caprese Salad’ is only the slightest example of how far out the new wave of a certain breed of chefs armed with the latest in molecular gastronomy, their powders, gels and talent have taken modern food. Not that it’s a bad thing. I’d have to taste the dish; however, honestly right now, I fancy just reading about it while munching on real tomatoes - that François carefully selected which then sat and ripened on the counter until eating them messily as is, was THE ONLY option.

Not to say that I don’t appreciate the contributions of these cutting edge cooks. This level of fiddling requires creativity, research, refinement, and skill. Although I do think they are insane, I have enormous respect for the lot, especially the original leaders like Ferran Adria, Wylie Dufresne, Heston Blumenthal, and Achatz, and now including this new bunch online (more approachable, but just as serious). I was once a disciple of the chef set, curiously exploring it all myself, convinced that this marriage of science, technology and traditional cooking was the epitome of haute cuisine, the ultimate. I have since lost the thread, I’ve been lapped and left behind by the whole movement, yet I still tune in somewhat out of curiosity, for the mental exercise, more than anything.

The one thing that continues to unsettle me about this new trend is the underlying goal of complete and utter transformation, the implicit denaturing of real food, not to mention the use of all the gums and powders associated with the processed food industry. Although cuisine has always been about transformation and all these tricks are basically just new tools and techniques for chefs, it’s just TOO MUCH fiddling for me. It clearly does not mesh with the parallel trend of fresh, local, seasonal ingredients, the shortening of the distance between farm and plate and the shunning of industrial, overly processed food. No, this direction is akin to a swing of the pendulum back to acrobatics for the sake of acrobatics, as in the old French style of chaud froid, and sculpting food, that I thought we sensibly left behind for the sake of taste.. Food can always be a canvas, but that’s not not always in our best interest. Our parents and grand parents didn’t seem to think that playing with our food was such a good thing either.

In any case, the contrast between this fancy Caprese Salad and the simple one before me, which could not have been better at this moment in time, drove my conviction home, leading me yet one step further from ‘molecular gastronomy’ in principle.

My cooking style at the restaurant lies somewhere in between these two in terms of degree of fiddling. In fact, I am constantly torn between the fiddle and fiddle-not camps; out of respect for the ingredients, out of principle and practicality , I hold back, while my artistic sense, curiosity, drive and desire to please, tug me the other way. I’m forever scolding myself for over-complicating things, forever struggling to find that balance in composition that best shows off the ingredients, that best represents our style and concept, that will humbly wow and surprise, all while being true to myself, creative but grounded, straight up but not boring..

(The extent of my fiddling with the Caprese (at the restaurant): Arugula, pickled hedgehog, smoked duck, boletus oil, wild grape ‘balsamic’, mushroom salt )

Even as I try to keep my fiddling to a minimum with my feet firmly planted in the woods as opposed to a fancy lab-kitchen, I shall likely remain plugged in and fascinated by the likes of Ideas in Food, Playing with Fire and their nouveau style Caprese Salad.

The Ideas in Food team http://ideasinfood.typepad.com/

is a favourite source of these antics and reflections. You can tell despite the convoluted technique they use, they have true passion and a reverence for top ingredients. They never cease to amaze and inspire me; they get me thinking wow that’s clever! (or occasionally wow, that’s ridiculous!). I admire their hard work and dedication to their mission (ie. my full inbox). And they come up with the darnest of things, often brilliant and surprising ideas and combinations of ingredients that get me excited. There was the coffee pasta lately that I found intriguing even if I am not a fan of flavouring pasta dough because it cuts the gluten and usually involves a waste of resources as flour really deadens the flavour. But they used a hot water dough, and I also couldn’t help but think that a certain wild mushroom stuffing would rock with the coffee. Then there was their creative and practical notion of speed-infusing with sous-vide which isn't all that new, but they are really working it. On the flip side, there is the occasional combo that elicits an ugh, like bananas and marrow.. They were at their best when describing the creative process the other day, which I thought hit the nail on the head when it comes to exposing a chef’s thought process (and really who better than them).. But then the next post offered up some banality like ‘Guess what, cooking vegetables in their skins provides more flavour’. At times like this, I can’t help but think they are so off in their own bubble of a deconstructed world of beakers and scales, that they sometimes forget about the real world and real food. Similarly though, many ‘regular’ cooks are so caught up in a routine that they forget about all the possibilities for new flavours and pure fun out there.

The truth is that there are many more hits than misses, and either way, it is exciting stuff. Obviously, I love that they (and people like them) are there to be pushing limits and exploring novel ideas. Although I have no desire to cook like that anymore, I do admire them and thank them all for stretching my mind in the subtlest of ways. I don’t know about fiddling so much with the Caprese Salad, and I still believe in ‘real food’ way more, but good on them for carving out a niche and making the culinary arena more dynamic. Wouldn’t it be boring if everyone out there was serving up the same Caprese Salad au naturel, no matter how fresh and sustainable. I suppose there’s room for all kinds of food and people, chefs, restaurants, and Caprese Salads out there. All dressed up listening to classical music, in some exotic locale on vacation, the new-fangled Caprese salad might work better at seducing me than the simple one I want at the end of a hard summer’s night in the kitchen... It all comes down to good tomatoes, time and place, and who’s doing the fiddling.

P.S. Can you tell I like the word 'fiddle'?

Vesce de loup (Giant puffball) contest

(details en Français à suivre)

François has launched his annual puffball contest, that is a call to all adventurous nature buffs (or anyone strolling through the woods) to bring in any giant puffballs for the chance at a prize. The owner of the largest (or should I say heaviest) one collected before September 30, 2008 will claim a 400$ value meal (for 4) at Les Jardins Sauvages during our wild mushroom event in October.

We’ve already received several entries; the biggest so far picked by my very own diamond-apprentice Jonathan at 12 lbs. He stumbled across it on his neighbour’s lawn. Never mind that it was his only day off in a while, so proud of his find, he drove in from the country to François’ stand at the market, much to everyone’s delight. Passers-by were snapping pictures, incredulous that this massive white globe was indeed an edible local wild mushroom. He got to frying bits of it up for curious customers, and ended up spending the day there amidst the excitement. You see, it was 3 times the size of his head, and no matter how much he would have liked to leave it on display, the fact of the matter was that it was ready to be eaten.. Although still pristine white and densely spongey throughout, it was a day or two more advanced than ideal for good keeping; in any case, these babies are best eaten right away.

François has come in with a few of his own too; although not quite as big, they were slightly firmer, which is what we like, hence the weight of the mushroom carrying the most importance. François’ record puffball weighed in at 18lb back in 2000.. With the terrific mushroom season underway this year, and an early start, we expect quite a few more to rival Jo’s (fingers crossed).. He’ll be working anyway (?!).

The contest is more for the fun of it all; the truth is that I would prefer many medium sized ones instead of one mega one for the best taste and texture. Not to mention that I don’t have pans big enough for a full slice of one of those, or enough pans or burners - it would take me all night to fry up one mushroom. It is kind of neat to think that you could feed an army, an entire extended family (or a full restaurant) with one mushroom though, and I must admit, the wow factor is there when you see a biggie up close. But once it’s all chopped up, no one knows or cares how big it was in the first place. Too small is no good either though because the skin to flesh ratio is higher. And do I like the versatility the bigger slices provide (as long as they fit in my pan) .. So aim for big, but I’ll gladly take the smaller ones.

The giant puffball is delicious just sautéed up in pieces, but with the big ones, you can get slices the size of a large sauteuse or hotel pan which opens up other options for dishes.. In previous years, we have used a slice as a pizza crust or layered it in a gratin. Last year I had less, so I fried up strips tempura style. I have also cubed it and added it to tartare, to ratatouille, to stir-fries. It has a delicious, prominent classic mushroom flavour, which is on the softer side when young, becoming stronger tasting with age, but always good, a definite must-try for mushroom lovers. In texture it is oddly spongy yet firm (when good), reminiscent of eggplant, and in cooking too, the way it can really soak up the oil if you’re not careful. You need a really hot pan and a generous amount of oil, then when it starts browning, you can lower the heat, flip the slices over, add a pat of butter, salt and pepper, that’s it that’s all. It won’t ever be crisp (unless you leave it to dry out a bit in the oven), but then you risk bitter notes, so best to leave it as is flavour wise.

If you do find one, you must try it out. If you find two, or come across a biggie, as in more than you can eat, bring it in please! I will be needing a bunch for my wild mushroom menu..

And you don’t have to be an expert forager; these you can see a mile away – like a golf ball or soccer ball (depending on how lucky you are) on the grass. One year when François was away, I found the first of the season, by tripping on one (I kid you not) on my way to the back shed. They come back every year right in the same spot on that path. In drier years, I have seen François water them as babies, watching them, caring for them right up until the perfect moment they are to be picked!

The proper notice (in French) :

Amateur de champignons ou mycologue averti,

Les Jardins Sauvages et François Brouillard, le véritable gourou des sous-bois, vous invitent à participer au concours de vesse-de-loup géante (Langermannia gigantea) de Lanaudière.

Vous avez trouvé une vesse-de-loup géante ? Appelez François au 450 588-5125 et venez faire homologuer votre prise aux Jardins Sauvages, 17, chemin Martin, à St-Roch de L’Achigan.

Le gagnant se méritera un repas pour quatre personnes À la Table des Jardins Sauvages lors d’un de nos dîners thématiques champignons cet automne, une valeur de 400$ mais faites vite, les champignons doivent être présentés avant le 30 septembre.
Consultez le www.jardinssauvages.com pour plus d’informations.

Amanite des césars

A mushroom fit for kings

A very rare and special mushroom, considered the top of all edible mushrooms by many, one that we don’t have the luxury of meeting every year.. In France , they go for 100-200$ a lb, they are a prize. Here, few people know of them, they aren’t on the culinary lingo landscape like morels or porcini, but maybe it’s because they don’t show up much and never in any significant quantity, and are oh so very fragile, so in effect impossible to work into a menu outside the home (of a forager). But for the third week in a row now, we have been offered a generous basket from the wild – and wow.

However, it seems that Philippe de Vienne and co. are more worthy than little old me as they got first dibs, since François brought them to the market to show off, eager to share this special treat with epicureans who could fully appreciate the marvel. He preferred to give them away to the right people as opposed to sell them to people who might not appreciate them to the fullest – that’s how precious they are. I got news of this second hand, and only on the third week did I finally get a taste.. I had to remind François that the last time I tasted an Amanite des Césars was when he was courting me, and because the famous thing had been sitting in his truck for too long, it was hardly spectacular out of the pan. This is the King of Mushrooms I thought at the time? I trust my nose and palette, I wasn’t convinced.. Could both François and the French have it all wrong?

That was five years ago., and I haven’t had a chance to taste one since. Maybe now that he has me, he no longer needs to pull out the rare mushrooms to woo me, but still, I would appreciate a taste before all his new market friends.

Needless to say, I got my taste, actually more than a fair share (4 mushrooms) that I sautéed up simply and gobbled up immediately. Ça se mange tout seul. They were silky and delicate, with an omnipresent yet subtle mushroom taste. This is a sexy mushroom, a dainty mushroom, a girly mushroom. I found the taste oddly reminiscent of button mushrooms (which I love by the way), with a few layers of complexity perhaps, as well as cucumber notes (due to their water content, I suspect), and I loved the tender crunchy texture of the stem.

I am not sure I would say it is No.1 (mushrooms can be like apples and oranges) or the king of mushrooms, but it is certainly a most delicious mushroom, definitely fit for kings and the rest of us too.

We’ll never have enough to put on the menu at La Table des Jardins Sauvages, especially now that we are booked every weekend, so better they go to the market - as long as they go to someone who knows how special they are, and more importantly, that I am first in line, the king of quality control, c’mon..

Maurel Coulombe, a favourite producer of mine, featured in the Chef’ domain show (the cutie ducks) I did recently, whom I’ve been meaning to write about for some time now..

Maurel et Coulombe is an artisanal duck and foie gras producer in St-Jean de Matha, in the most beautiful part of the Lanaudière countryside, 45 minutes north of us, deep in the woods.

After a visit with the young dynamic French couple behind the operation, Yvanne Maurel et Martin Coulombe, I am happy to report happy ducks listening to traditional Quebec folk music, and that ultimately, I wasn’t shocked or horrified out of serving duck or foie gras. This is a small production of 180, or 1000 annually (instead of the 150 000 typical of other more industrial Quebec producers), raised according to traditional methods from the southwest of France (where Yvanne comes from). They are fed a diet of whole corn, no filler, and no antibiotics. They have them on a 4 mo cycle, longer (and more expensive) than the customary 2-3. Their integrity and care is evident on many levels. First of all, they allow their ducks (see the two month olds below) to be outside, despite a fight with the govt agency that wants to forbid it on the grounds of avian flu threats. There is no automation or machinery here, even the gavage is done personally and manually by Yvanne and Martin. They are proud and committed to artisanal methods, but sadly, can’t quite yet make a living at it, making a ‘real’ job on the side still necessary for Martin. We buy a good chunk of their magret production, their foie goes into their signature torchon which is already sold out; but they are starting to jar a variety of terrines for the retail market.

They could never supply the growing demand for artisanal foie gras without expanding, but for now, they choose to keep the control their small size allows them in order to ensure quality, a relatively ethical product, and to make the most of that. In their work and disposition, they are as inspiring as the quotes that mark certain landmarks on their property. Above the doorway of one shed, reads ‘La destiné des nations depend de la manière don’t il se nourrit’, by Brillat Savarin, and emblazoned along the duck feeder, there is a Rousseau quote, ‘Le premier et le plus grand des arts est l’agriculture’.. Yes, I love my quotes.

Back in her kitchen, Yvanne offered me a taste of her coveted torchon made by a secret recipe handed down from her grandmother in Toulouse . Cooked whole in cheesecloth in a super-flavourful broth (the key), this was the duckiest, most savoury torchon I have ever tasted, and what François called the best torchon of his life. Listen, I could not be insulted in face of a hundred plus years of tradition. Not to mention the good kitchen karma residing in the walls of this place to be sure- you see, their farmhouse was once owned by Henri Bouchard, Quebec’s much loved original celebrity chef who had a popular cooking show in the 50’s that was filmed here …

In face of the foie gras wars and sensational headlines that keep popping up in the news, remember that there are real, good people and ducks like these, hardly something we should be fighting off, more like cherishing and holding dear. Look for them and their products, and if you’re in the Joliette area, you can always go for a visit, just follow the foie gras signs.

Domaine Maurel-Coulombe, 450-886-2544

www.maurelcoulombe.com

P.S. I have to say that when it comes to duck, I am still a Ferme Morgan girl too, in that I haven’t stopped loving their Barbarie ( Muscovy ) duck, which is certified organic. I never really wanted another duck producer after discovering them when I was at l’Eau à la Bouche. But now I am in the Lanaudière and so should be favouring the producers closest by, and it’s hard not to be charmed by Yvanne and Martin. You know, we are lucky to be graced with the quality of choice we have in Quebec ; it’s too bad more people don’t know enough to be seeking these guys out. I wish I was big enough to make a difference, but I can’t support anybody, no matter how much I believe in them. These are two duck producers I want to promote and to keep (who needs two duck producers you say?). For me, it’s like apples and oranges anyway - different breeds, different products. For my last duck dinner event, I used both - the Moulard for the foie gras and magret for smoking, and Morgan’s Babarie for roasting and confit.. By the way, Ferme Morgan also has terrific guinea hen, wild turkey, sanglichon, as well as some lamb and beef, and they even market small cuts (as opposed to the whole beasts restaurants buy) for the average consumer, with drop offs at La Maison Verte and other specialty stores.. www.fermemorgan.com

The stars of summer

Now that the novelty of all the sprouts, greens and flowers of spring and early summer has worn off, now that interesting salads are commonplace, and now that I’ve done such wild edibles as cattail to death (in broth, in soup, as a side, in batters, doughs both savoury and sweet), there is a whole new set of foodstuffs, those that mark summer’s peak, that have come in to steal the show..

This dish just about sums it up: Sea spinach, corn, scallops, with tomato crinkleroot sauce  

As does this one: Corn and wild mushroom chowder with sea spinach

Or this one: Wild berry butter cakes with vanillagrass semi-freddo

Yes, my heroes of summer are:

Sea spinach and co.

The star of late summer is the grand arrival of the Marine plants: sea spinach, sea asparagus, sea rocket, marine plantain..

 Baby sea spinach, sea asparagus and marine plantain

Spergulaire

The first tender sprouts I tend to use raw, even though I really prefer it all cooked, if ever so slightly. Sea asparagus is best in a crunchy ‘seaweed like’ salad; sea rocket is piquant and mustardy, so more of a condiment- I keep that raw and throw a leaf here and there for bite, or make salsa verde.. Marine plantain is fun blanched then tossed with spaghetti or in a veg julienne.. My all time fave is the sea spinach, which although great raw, is even more amazing wilted with some garlic and chilli, as well as in soups and stuffings (anywhere you would use spinach) – basically, this is just super-duper spinach, nutty, salty, peppery, so green, so tasty.  

Mature sea spinach at its best

Mustn't forget about the Wild berries, an infallible high point of summer, and it has been a phenomenonal season so far to the delight of many pie makers and jammers (the little old ladies on the side of the road), and me. There’s nothing like sitting in a big patch with your favourite kid(s) and stuffing your face.

It was an excellent wild strawberry season, if you have the patience to pick more than you can eat (not me), or are willing to pay the big bucks for someone else to (no choice).

Also a very good black raspberry season, although the cultivated raspberries seem to be having trouble.. In some parts of the province, the strawberries, raspberries and blueberry seasons have oddly overlapped; here they came in rapid succession and abundantly; now, its the saskatoon berries and little wild blueberries.

Of course, my desserts have been all about the berries all summer, with some flower scents here and there, the occasional hit of chocolate..  Since I am not the biggest sweet tooth, Berry centric 'light' desserts are my favourite kind, and with wild berries, gorgeous on their own, you don't need to pull out many fancy pastry chef moves to make a killer dessert.  

Frozen berry soufflé, elderberry pannacotta, berry rose petal granite, vanilla-grass berry compote stuffed butter cakes, berry lemon curd tartlets with Labrador tea, berry pots de crème, and a 'wild' tiramisu to name a few of my summer sweets.. Berries everywhere, and always with something chilled and zingy on the side, of course.. For a refreshing dip into some cool talk about ice, chilling and the science of cold, read the master Harold McGee’s article  http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/06/dining/06curious.html?partner=rssyahoo&emc=rss..

And Mushrooms bien sur!

We are now officially rolling on that oh so familiar, exciting rollercoaster that is the wild mushroom season, a quickly accelerating course of foraging hits and misses, of guesswork and grunt work and high fives, as François and co. scout his spots province wide, tracking what’s going on where, betting on the next score.. I never know if he will show up with 1lb or 50lb for me to process. And I’m having to fight for my share, as the shrooms fly off the counter at the market. The summer varieties are just starting to boom around here, but in some parts of the province, there has been too much humidity, making it hard to find a pristine patch.. My François des bois has not had much trouble though, keeping me busy with the steady influx of his pickings: chanterelles of all kinds (girolles, flocons, en tube, black trumpet), yellow and red foot boletes, clavaire, polypore, lactarius, Amanite des césars (very rare), even the first puffballs (very early!). Thanks to fellow mushroom freak friends around (and new ones at the market), we have rediscovered some less noble shrooms we hadn’t been using, but that upon retesting, have agreed that they are quite tasty (Boletus American and bolet veiné for example). Sorry, for my lazy lack of English terms.

All to say it’s looking really good – leaps and bounds over last summer to be sure (not hard to beat). Fresh mushrooms of all sorts dot my menus and I’m slowly starting to dry, pulverize, infuse, sauté, pickle and etc, to put up stores for our infamous quickly approaching mushroom event. Now, if only the rain would let up abit, just a bit.. All this rain has been good for the greenery and forests, but enough is enough.

Some brown plates (mushroom dishes): Venison with chanterelles, peas and curry leaf, Wild mushroom stoganoff..

Even I know there is more to life than mushrooms.. 

Hand in hand with the offerings from the wild, come the colors and tastes from the farmer’s fields, from the markets and roadside stands, where even if they are struggling a little more, EVERYTHING is in season. Well, just about everything is out.. Starting with the Lettuces, Peas, garlic and onions, Green beans, Carrots, new potatoes, Kohlrabi, celery, cabbage to the short-lived Fava beans..

 Beatiful peas!

You know it's summer when your MEP board is a still-life..

Grelots picked in our backyard.

François coming in the door with an armful.

Corn on the side of the road

So exciting (the favas), but then you shuck a sack or two or three, and well, that’s enough, time to move on to other beans.. I served them in a fricassee with lobster, corn and sea spinach, in a salad with corn, purselane and smoked duck, and in soup with homemade bacon and sea parsley, keeping a few for later.. My peas won’t last though, like corn, I can’t hold back from using them all over when I have them.

Alongside the green beans (Jade, extra-fine) and yellow flat beans out now, there is the king of summer, early corn, always so sweet, can’t get enough. But it remains to be seen if it will really be a good season...

With summer squash and eggplant out, I am getting into caponata, ratatouille and vegetable gratin mode.. A fun part of zucchini season is frying the blossoms, stuffed or not. I’ve ditched the tempura for an old-fashioned fish and chips style fritter batter (but using cattail flour) and panko, and quite like the results. Not as light, but very crisp and chewy, very satisfying, and a better bet in this humidity.

Zucchini gratin with bee balm ricotta and sea spinach, fried blossom (with cattail flour)

Being the tomato lover that I am, there is still that little something missing for a totally and utterly complete summer orgasm – tomato greatness.. Despite all the good little greenhouse tomatoes all summer, as the first field tomatoes appear, it’s impossible to not get excited about the ripest of the field tomatoes and heritage breeds around the corner, weehoo.. Summer isn’t over yet.

But I bet my little dehydrator wishes it was..

All summer long: Operation dehydration

This little baby is going 24/7, poor thing, drying everything from rose petals to day lily pistils to nettle and elderberry flower, making for a room deodorizer that reflects the seasons.. Now that the mushrooms are taking over the electric device and the ovens too, the ambient scent has changed from floral to well, mushroomy, possibly peculiar to the uninitiated. I wonder what the customers think. They say it’s charming and cool, but..

To dehydrate all the stuff we need, we have no choice but to resort to more natural, old-fashioned methods as well, using any hot dry space we can find.. We have door frame size screens filled with powdered bulrush, various leaves and flowers stacked in an airy hot box with holes, as well as nets of stuff in our attic.. Now, again, if only it would stop raining..

With a dry finish (fingers crossed), this might ring in as a very fruitful season. All I can say is that as wonderful as summer is, I can’t keep up. For the first time in ages, like one might dream of summer in winter, I can’t help but have my moments when I think wistfully of winter, when I’m not in this mad dash and dance with nature, when everything is done, there is no fresh harvest, and a day off isn’t so difficult to come by. Not that I’m complaining really, because cooking has never been this much fun, truly. I think I say that every year at this time (what cook doesn’t?).

But if anyone knows of a good cook for hire, a dishwasher, forager, salesperson, secretary or masseuse, please let me know - I could use them all, and now.

The first images of summer

In the kitchen, at the table, out my window in the garden, and in the wild..

day lilies in bloom: the buds, the petals, plenty to use

purselane

strawberry, rhubarb and rose petal shortcake and granité (with clover and vanilla grass)

low water levels: good for foraging

scallop ceviche with oxalis, wild ginger gelée, bee balm, milkweed brocoli vinaigrette

Pettinicchi in town: another sign of summer

milkweed shoots and brocoli

cattails ready to cook up

pigweed (or lambs quarters)

early summer salad with pigweed, live forever, smoked duck, quail egg, crinkleroot pickled veg

hot in the kitchen (hence the rag-sweat band)

François and his pea shoots

wild pea shoots

Aperos outside

oxalis
snacking on pigweed

Achilée riverside

julienne des dames

lilac season at La Table

armoise, liveche

Terrasse is open

From the woods, the first shrooms..

Morels from my old spot in Ste-Adele

Agarics forestiers - smells like chocolate!!

François' first bolet picks: bolets orangés and bolets jaune

the first baby chanterelles (left)..

I seem to always forget to take food pictures during service, so as for signs of summer on the plate, you'll have to come out to eat...   

My menu this week: http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/menus/ or visit www.jardinssauvages.com

Enclosure

Market treats

One major bonus about my François des bois being at Jean Talon market (besides him being out of my hair) is that he comes home every day with something great to eat. He’s always been good at that, but now it’s not just greens. He is so conveniently close to a dazzling array of fresh ingredients, some sources that we know and love already, among others that he is discovering by the day.

Gaspé style cooked lobster from AtkinsI would never think to buy my lobster cooked, but François convinced me that this guy at Atkins really knows how to cook lobster and he cooks hundreds a day (big ones!), in highly seasoned water in the Gaspé style (with sea salt and seaweed) – and he was right, it’s pretty damn good. Visit Les Delices de la Mer on the south side of the specialty aisle. The lobster kiosk is across from the main store, which is also a good source of fish, scallops and shrimp in season. They aren’t just purveyors of fish, they are actual fishermen and family here..

nutmeg from Philippe de VienneKnowing how much I love spices, François brought me some nutmeg from Philippe de Vienne’s shop (which has been a gaga place of mine since it opened years ago). I carried my jar of 'noix du paradis' around for days, taking a sniff every now and again, even sleeping next to it. The nutmeg was still in its shell so it shook like a rattle and smelled like malted chocolate, vanilla and spice. When I cracked one open, the most fragrant little nutmeg ball was revealed, which grating became a pure joy - I’ve never tasted nutmeg like this. I finally understood the subtleties in difference between mace and nutmeg, having the juxtaposition in my face. I honestly could not stop grating or smelling it or talking about how much I loved it. You could tell François was pleased with his buy; he may as well as given me a diamond ring.

Philippe de Vienne’s Olive et Épices is THE store for olive oils, spices and beautiful kitchen knickknacks/gifts. His other store, La Depense a few doors down is also an interesting stop for curious minds, and a good source for specialty and ethnic dry goods. Say, gram flour or Israeli couscous..

I feel fortunate to have a steady supply of dry ham (proscuitto) from the Cochon tout rond (whose stall is right next to François’), whom I’ve already mentioned here at least once; I also love their chorizo. Their proscuitto has become a staple in our fridge, amazing as a part of a late night charcuterie/cheese platter in lieu of dinner or in a salad, pasta, or atop pizza.

François loves his veal chops, and that means regular visits to Veau de Charlevoix (Charlevoix veal), pricy but worth it. On another night, it could be organic suckling pig from Pork Meilleur; both these are in the specialty aisle.. Fermes Nord-Est close by has small production natural meats too, such as bison, beef and chicken.. François has yet to bring some home - we can’t be eating meat every night after all, but I have visited their farm, met them and know I can recommend them.

He’s also regularly coming home with a new cheese he’s discovered either from Qui Lait Cru or Fromagerie Hamel.. His latest buys were meant to impress me, and they did, but thanks to Yannick I already knew them.. There was the new Baluchon Reserve from Ste-Anne de la Pérade and the Bleu d’Elizabeth from the townships, as well as my beloved Alfred de Compton, his default addition to make sure I was pleased, I guess.  There is also the Tomme de Marechal and the La Moutonnière farmer's sheep's milk cheeses who have stalls of their own in the specialty or organic aisle (Le Clos Vert, Le Soupçon de Bleu (a creamy blue), and the classic La Moutonnière bleu (which I prefer).

For the organic milk he likes, he goes to a little Produits du Terroir shop in the specialty aisle, next to the olives place. He brought me delicious fresh yogurt in a glass jar from there too that I used in a panna cotta that was so exceptionally tasty, I figured it must be the yogurt.  About those olives next door - delish! Especially the goat cheese stuffed green ones.   

Being the fruit lovers we are, we have our spots for fruit even off season (we lose locavore points here). Of course, I put up our rhubarb and wild berries for use at the restaurant, but I do enjoy the odd fresh berry in the morning off season, and well, François power eats fruit all the time. We get most of our seasonal fruit in the country, but in between, a few good sources at the market are key; especially at this time of year, where it’s summer just about everywhere else - it’s hard to resist the taste of a good melon, cherry or pear when it’s been so long.. François is very fussy about his fruit, and takes much care in selecting each piece (he is very good at sniffing out that perfect melon). He likes Eric Lecuyer ‘Le King’ on the north side of the second aisle for a reliable assortment of berries; in season, he has everything from blueberries to currants to ground cherries. For mangos, melons, pears and apples, he likes Trottier, that famously long established family of apple growers, and apparently they usually have good Quebec tomatoes too. They have a few locations around the market, the main one being in the main cross aisle.

At the moment, Jacques et Diane Remillard are selling potted plants, herbs and such in the third aisle, but at the height of summer, they will be in their regular space in the second aisle selling their vegetables and herbs.. They are old friends of François’ and a favourite source of harvest vegetables for us.

Then, there are the farm fresh eggs form Chez Petrin that arrive daily; they also sell honey, maple, and strangely enough (but very useful to know), the beans for cassoulet, all varieties of dry beans in fact.

Once and a while, the women in François’ life get treated to a bouquet of fresh flowers from Chez Daniel, but I like the more frequent wild ones just as much..

There is always the Marché des Saveurs for Anicet’s honey and Cuvée du Diable honey wine, which I love to cook with since L’Eau à la Bouche, or for some other Quebec product I need for a menu, be it cider or Quebec style porto.. Of course, they have much more than booze, it being THE place to shop for Quebec ingredients and gifts, to bring visiting friends, or when you just want to discover or rediscover some new Quebec product.

Perhaps François is so good at surveying the market because he’s not at his stall; I suspect that the girls (Isabelle, Marie Claude and Stéphanie) are doing the bulk of the work while he schmoozes.. You have to understand that he spent much of the nineties here as a farmer who also happened to sell some weird, wild things on the side (which is where Normand Laprise discovered him), so he knows the market, the long established businesses, the family farmers from the peddlers (as he calls the distributor/sellers who don’t know farming and get all their stuff at the Marché Centrale). As a result, he can spot the ruses, the sheisters, the places I now know I should NOT shop at..

Now that’s a real forager for you - as good at the market as in the woods.. François du Marché meets François des Bois - Lucky me.

François and all his foraging greatness aside, there is more to the market than what HE likes.. I like Birri (and so do other people I know who are serious about their food) for all their specialty veg and herbs. I remember the day a couple of years ago when I happened upon their stall (in the first aisle, center), which was spilling over with a variety of beautiful eggplants and squash laid out in their glory.. Granted it was late summer abundance, heirloom tomatoes and all, but I spent over an hour there fondling the stuff, walking off with more than I could carry, elated by the freshness and beauty of my original finds.

There’s the mainstay Capitol, one of my friend Barb’s favourite spots for meat, cheese and miscellaneous dry goods. Of course, she is dating an Italian guy, but he’s a cook and she’s a market regular.. I second that it would make a handy épicerie if you live in the area, especially if you’re into charcuterie, cheese, antipasto and pasta (who isn’t?). She also claims that the new pizza place (Venizzia) on the northwest side of the market is amazing, can’t wait to check it out.

I can’t help but mention Pain Doré; even if they can be spotty, and seem to have suffered as a brand in expansion versus the compounding competition. Everyone seems to prefer Premier Moisson or some artisanal bakery but if in the vicinity, I still gravitate towards Pain Doré for a ham sandwich or a baguette. Maybe it’s nostalgic since I once long ago ate a Parisien (ham, butter and dijon ) with great satisfaction daily. They don’t make it quite the same anymore and now the sandwiches seem to always be made in advance (?!), but the memory lasts.. Or maybe it’s just because I like their bread. I swear I do. It’s happened that I’ve been in some far off restaurant in a village in the Charlevoix or in the Laurentians and loved the bread; where do you get your bread, I ask? Every time, Pain Doré, mademoiselle.. It hasn’t happened lately, but still, I’m loyal.

And being the sucker for books that I am, I have a hard time not dipping into the cookbook store when at the market.. Anne Fortin’s store at the east entrance to the new wing reminds me of a French version of the cookbook store in TO in feel, with its small quarters stacked with a rich and wide array of titles and topics for the serious food book lover.. Digging is required, but many gems are to be found, in both official languages.. She has also opened a used-bookstore nearby, L’Occasion Gourmande (366 rue de Castelneau Est, 514-759-9143).

One last treat from the market is the TV show upstairs, Des Kiwis et des Hommes, a Radio Canada morning food/variety/talk show (that thankfully replays late night) hosted by the lovable duo, Boucar Diouff and Francis Reddy. They have a weekly host chef cooking, as well as other guests including artists, politicians, activists, interesting people all round, and for an hour and a half, they hang around the kitchen and chat about current events, sit at the table to attack a philosophical topic of the day or talk about music; they regularly tour the market and visit farmers, they clown around and stop to offer food for thought.. It’s an eclectic show that does border on cheesy at times, but definitely grows on you. I am mostly fond of it because it takes place at the market and exudes that market spirit, alive with the pulse of the people and food in all its diversity, throughout the ups, downs and intricacies of real life. They entertain and remind us of the good things in life at our fingertips in the heart of the city.

In short, I hope I've given you enough good reasons to visit the market, Jean Talon in particular, today! 

C’est parti! The season is off to a booming start..

crinkleroot, daisy, ramp leaves, live-forever, cat's tongue

violet, dog's tooth, spring beauty

first morels

The fiddleheads have been coming in by the potato sac, officially kicking off the season of wild edibles. We have enough wild greens to make a kick-ass spring salad mix: live-forever, violet leaves and flowers, daisy, cat’s tongue, spring beauty, linden, ramp leaves.. I have stinging nettle to make soup, day lily sprouts, some wild ginger and crinkleroot to play with too.. We’ve spotted the first morels (still in the ground, properly guarded). C’est parti! The cooler is overflowing; it’s time to get infusing, pickling, drying, blanching and putting up, embarking on the oh so familiar, constant rush of the growing season, which is all about trying to keep up with processing the pickings amidst serving customers. This is also when menu planning becomes so fun, even difficult because there is so much to work with.. I launched spring with an elaborate menu for the first two weeks of May, but because it was set before reality hit, my next menus sing spring to another degree because I’m living it now (and I don’t have a camera on my ass day in, day out). I was so inspired by my time in the woods for the first picks, I am buoyed by all the green and the signs of the local abundance to come, spring is in definitely in my step.. The first roadside stands selling local asparagus have appeared too, an essential part of spring, and I’m pumped because I’m done teaching, ready to devote my time to wild times at Les Jardins Sauvages.

crab salad farcie

tartare, wild ginger, day lily, dog's tooth

stinging nettle chowder, my ham, boletus froth

spring mesclun, fried Blackburn cheese, wild grape balsamic

lamb, almond rosemary crumble, mixed veg

Big news! François des Bois goes to the market!

As of Victoria day week-end (or la Fête des Patriotes, ie. this week-end), François will be at Jean Talon market from Thursday to Sunday selling his wild edibles. His stand will be next to the Cochon tout rond in the specialty aisle. He will have fiddleheads, wild spring mesclun mix (the greens mentioned below), edible wild flowers, eventually more greens and wild mushrooms (following the season) as well as his 'new and improved' line of products (mustards, oils, salts, vinaigrettes etc) and flavoured butters. I might even make some soup and sous-vide dishes at some point..

It’s all very exciting. Of course, it means more volume, work and organization, and that I need to be at the table champêtre all the time, but François loves the market; it is where he belongs (when he’s not in the woods), and most importantly, more people will have easy access to wild edibles. Chefs can stop by and stock up.  Generations of Quebeckers can rediscover the traditions and flavours of their ancestors in eating wild greens, and give their immune system a boost in the process.

He won’t be selling anything that isn’t abundant, or that he doesn’t know where and how it was picked. Things like wild ginger and crinkleroot will not be available because although we use them, the government has them on their endangered list. François alleges that this is false (clear in our forest); when picked properly (ie.not pulling out the roots), they actually prosper, but still he doesn’t want to cause controversy or create a demand that would encourage twits to go harvesting carelessly. In some cases, eating a species keeps it alive, in other circumstances, popularity can be detrimental (think ramps in Quebec ).

nordic shrimp, asparagus, radish, cat's tongue and dog's tooth

quail salad, fiddleheads with sesame

Piglet loin, fiddleheads with ham, Rassambleu potato cake, cider sauce

See my ‘What’s cooking’ posts for spring recipes: featuring crab, shrimp, asparagus, fiddleheads, asparagus..

http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/whats-cooking-recipes/

And this week's menu http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/menus/

A visiting tour to producers, while waiting for the snow to melt:

Inspiration everywhere.. 

Rice lettuce, the first sprouts, curry leaves!

I had a very stimulating cooking week. Although we did get our first pickings of wild things to cook with, the excitement mostly came from others’ offerings this time. Travelling is a sure source of inspiration always, even if you only drive 30min out of your bubble. Spending time with passionate, hardworking artisans and farmers is the most rewarding of all, and luckily in Quebec you don’t have to go too far for that. I spent a day visiting a few of these special people, and came back on fire.

My first stop was at les Jardiniers du Chef with Pierre André Daignault. He’s been supplying top restaurants with micro-greens and specialty veg for years, and the place is like a well oiled machine, laid back and mature, yet with an innovative energy still omnipresent. As I sprinted around the greenhouses, sniffed and tasted, I was reacquainted with many old favourites, only more perfect and beautiful, and came across many new items of interest. The winner of the day was his rice lettuce (laitue de riz), like a delicate looking head of romaine that really tastes like sweet fragrant rice. Amazing raw, I could sooo imagine it cooked, silky and toothsome, more deeply flavourful. There was green garlic with an outside bulb you remove leaving what looks like a baby scallion that tastes like a ramp. There was pied de poule (chickenfeet), a thin wiry, but tender green that reminded me of young sea asparagus in texture but with a mild neutral grassy taste. I tasted a nutty Japanese spinach, peppery cress, a number of novel edible flowers, numerous micro-greens, and marvelled at all his still beautiful roots (skirret, chervil root, baby carrots, Chiogga beets, Jerusalem artichokes..). When I got back to the restaurant, and then at home, I prepared as much of my bag of treats in every way I could to sample it all at its freshest (yes, cooking at home after a 15hr day..). Thankfully, I had enough customers the next day to try a few more things out. It was my first taste of summer-like abundance in a while, when you have too many beautiful things to work with, it’s a struggle to fit it all on the menu. I made a little salad with the chicken-feet, some slivered daylily sprout, celery leaf sprouts and crinkleroot oil to accompany my smoked fish rillettes and gravelax on a wild herbed breadstick. I stuffed pintade with boletus and wrapped it in rice lettuce to cook it sous-vide, I also stuffed the pintade with the rice lettuce and seared it after the slow poach, which turned out to be even better. The cress and green garlic adorned a braised lamb and gnocchi dish with curry leaf. I was so pleased I left a gushy message on his answering machine. 

guinea hen stuffed with boletus and rice lettuce, jerusalem artichoke purée

Daignault's microgreens

smoked fish rillettes, gravelax, chickenfeet and day lily with crinkleroot

prepping pintade

Daignault's ail vert

The next stop was Gaspor, St-Canut farms for milk-fed piglet. I hadn’t visited since they automated their operation. Alexandre Aubin, the most charming pig farmer to be sure (although as a result he does more PR now while co-owner Carl Rousseau tends to the pigs) explained the new feeding system and showed me the cute little piglet families in different stages. They raise them to 28kg or 9-10 weeks in comfortable conditions, only milk fed, and air-dry for 48hrs after slaughter. Although still a relatively small production, they are steadily expanding, and they supply fine tables across the country, in New York and beyond. Their piglet is succulent, every part of it, and the fat is a soft, creamy white. I used to get their whole pigs when I was at l’Eau, where it was a work of love finding a way to use it all up; now they sell major cuts, so it’s more accessible. Even if I found the little piglets cute, actually hilarious (they are so playful and squeaky), I can’t wait to get my hams going.  www.gaspor.com

Fromagerie Yannick: Piave on the left

Fromagerie du Marché St-JeromeOn the way back, we stopped at Yannick’s Fromagerie du Marché in St-Jerome, the ultimate cheese shop where big wheels of perfect cheese grace the countertops and knowledgeable, passionate people are eager to introduce you to all of it. I really came for a chunk of my new favourite Piave (raw cow’s milk from Venetie, Italy, kind of Parm like, but ultra nutty), but also left with a Mont Tuilly Suisse tomme (raw cow’s milk) and a raw sheep’s milk Portugese pate molle that is curdled with natural cardoon enzyme (Azeitao), as well as some Lenoir Lacroix (terrific locally roasted and blended fair-trade organic) coffee. Yannick was there, so we had to chat it up, the guy is everything you want to know about cheese in a handsome, suave, soft spoken package. He looks more like an architect or a banker than a cheese specialist and always wears a crisp blue shirt, but he knows his stuff. He pointed me to the most promising of the new Quebec cheeses on the market, and reminded me of the best of the old that have succeeded in mastering consistency. On the subject of the Alexis de Portneuf (owned by Saputo) semi-scandal, Yannick explained that the additive in question was in fact just a a milk component, cheese by-product that is normally thrown out, not something altogether unnatural, and that with their investment in this technology, they were actually doing a good job at making commercially produced cheese. I still think that they should not be marketing themselves as artisanal, and that information is all the consumer needs; I would rather choose a small farmer’s cheese anyway, but at least it’s good to know I’m not committing some food ethics crime by eating a slice of the award winning Sauvagine. However, with all the other incredible veritable farmers cheeses in his shop, it’s not even an issue. His heart is in the Alps , in Spain and Portugal , but the Quebec selection is stellar, all the cheeses are selectively sourced, optimally cared for and served at their peak. His shops (he has two in Montreal too, one on Bernard and one on the West Island ) are heaven for a cheese lover, definitely worth a trip. He really elevates cheese to noble, edible art, thereby doing justice to the artisans behind it all.

first spring pickings

François' first sprouts

micro dandelion

On the home front, things are just as exciting, definitely heating up. The snow is melting quickly, and this week, François brought me my first real basket of stuff. He might have had to work hard and dig deep for it, but it was impressive - daylily sprouts, a little dogstooth and daisy, crinkleroot, a few tabouret des champs tops, some micro dandelion (the only kind I can imagine eating) and a couple of dozen violets, just enough to jazz up a few of my dishes and make my plates look pretty. It’s hard to believe that in a few weeks, these treats will be almost taken for granted as things really start sprouting in earnest and the fiddleheads take over officially launching the party of everything green, fresh and local. All in time.. If spring had come sooner, maybe I wouldn’t have made it to Daignault’s, and I wouldn’t have found love in rice lettuce.

snow receding to reveal day lily sprouts

day lily sprouts

dogstooth or adder's leaf

My last hit of the weekend was the lamb dish, this one thanks to my Man Siva, a dishwasher and prep cook extraordinaire I used to work with at the Tavern years ago.  Among all his other lovable traits, he is also my curry leaf connection.  Looking for a little excitement on my menu (this was before my producer trip), and with Stephanie St-Jean's lamb coming in (Ferme d'Elevage La Petite Campagne), I couldn't think of a better time to call on him.  Wow, I had almost forgotten how much I LOVE the stuff.  Barb thinks it smells like eggs, and although I do pick up some sulfur like notes, I find it very nutty smelling, more like sesame..  I braised the shoulders with the curry leaf, and once cooked, everyone said it smelled like maple syrup.  Anyhow, it was delicious, atop some homemade gnocchi with Mr.Potato's (M.Berard) potatoes that have a natural mushroom aroma with a touch of nutmeg -oh ya.  Sometimes you don't have to travel any further than down memory lane for some inspiration.  Inspiration is everywhere.  A sure sign that spring is here indeed.  Hallelujah!  Now if only the Habs would win.

For Easter: Eggs and God

Easter usually means that spring is in the air, but this year, we’re not quite there yet. It somehow seems premature to jump on the spring bandwagon and cook what the food media dictates to be Easter fare. We’re a long way from local peas, asparagus and ramps; hell the maple season is barely upon us (all that snow needs to melt away from the trees before the sap can run). I’m still plugging away with my root veg and put up wild greens, but I do have a ham curing, some fresh rabbit and a big block of Martin Guilbault’s Terre Promise cheese to play with, can’t complain.

Easter is a celebration for most people, but with different religious traditions (or lack there of), it means something different to everyone otherwise. To me, it has always been above all, a time to be thankful for and to celebrate the egg in all its fabulousness! See my previous post, ‘My Easter Ode to the Egg’ http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/blog-journalessays/2007/4/6/my-easter-egg.html

my duck eggs

In honour of the egg in all its forms, I invite you to view an egg slide show to get to know some more good eggs.. http://www.gourmet.com/food/2008/03/eggslideshow

And if you’re cooking something for Easter, maybe consider an egg dish..

Some of my favourites in what’s cooking.. http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/whats-cooking-recipes/

Now to my egg epiphany! More precisely, I happened upon a moment of clarity thanks to the egg, as I was cooking up a MEP storm on Good Friday listening to CBC. Gospel music was playing while I cracked my eggs for a bread pudding (with wintergreen, chocolate and wild berries).. I paused to bow to the egg, true to my Easter tradition of egg appreciation, but then I couldn’t help but think that no matter how wonderful the egg is, Easter could/should mean much more to me. After all, I am a minister’s daughter who never goes to church and has a hard time remembering what all the hoopla is supposed to be about besides lamb, ham, turkey and chocolate. So, I got to contemplating God, religion and the universe; the eggs lead me there.

You see, MY GOD IS AN EGG, a magnificent artisanal cheese, a biodynamic wine, a perfect ham. My god is real food pulled from the earth, the alchemy of cooking, a sublime taste, the uplifting scent of wild flowers, the soothing, energizing warmth of a hearth.. Anything that can yank me out of my body, profoundly touch me with awe, turn me to putty and I don’t quite know why. My god is in the marvel of childbirth, the dawn of a new season, a bird in flight, the absolute peace found in nature. My god is the harmony of an orchestra, the bliss of a good meal with friends, the comfort of a meaningful exchange or embrace. It’s the exaltation of being struck by beauty, moved by art, connecting with words, or being high on life. My god is the whole truth, the missing link; my god is love, grace, serenity and hope. My god is care, thoughtfulness and trust, the glory of giving all of oneself, feeling gratitude, being humbled, feeling lucky, honouring integrity. It is the power to create, to receive, to dance. My god is also the sound of an anthem in a crowd, what I feel in a church and at the hockey arena; and definitely, my god is all of Leonard Cohen’s hallelujahs.

My god is a real force, but not a being in our image, not a ‘he’ or a ‘she’ or a ‘Jesus’ or a ‘Mohammed’, not even a higher power. My god is all that is beyond our grasp, what eludes science and all our constructs. It is the struggle between good and bad in all of us, the intangible, and the inexplicable. It is soul, intuition, faith, hope, healing, instinct, and the placebo effect. It is what we refer to as nuance or ‘je ne sais quoi’, it is what makes a carrot healthier than the sum of its nutrient parts. It is what makes people use words like wow!, fate, soul-mate, spirituality, karma, guardian angel or devil.

My god is all that we inherently know to be important and true but don’t and maybe can’t know; it’s the thread that binds us.

I am surprisingly fine with this kind of all encompassing and impossible-to-pinpoint god, mainly because life has taught me the limits of our human design. The study of cooking, biochemistry, anthropology, math, physics, chemistry, philosophy, art, etc., not to mention the school of real life and hard knocks all offer up some incomplete truth.. They are all legitimate paths that eventually require us to take a leap of faith, to accept something or just believe because it feels right. We all instinctively know there’s something more. We need a god, so we find one however we can, bring it into our heart (or let it free), put one foot in front of the other, hopefully do some good and sleep better at night.

I’m not sure about that last one, but still.. Some kind of belief system can be a settling and powerful thing. Besides, I hear it’s very positive for longevity and for the community. I also hear that meditating is the end all, but I can’t do it for the life of me. Let’s just say that I am not spiritually predisposed. I never cared what happened in other solar systems or where we go when we die; to me there is so much right here-right now to figure out - priorities right? Nor am I puzzled by the fact that life isn’t fair. It doesn’t bother me that we might have originated from a random explosion of elements and that everything about our life is random. I am all for positive thinking, but I always felt that praying was kind of bogus and weak.

Nonetheless, I do have my questions. Being a student of the sciences before anything else, I once thought math could explain everything, and I was way too logical to ever be open to the idea of gods, angels, out of body experiences, psychics, or even psychology for that matter.. The ultimate power of nature, the success of biodynamics are parallel examples that may have recently helped awaken me. Listening to a scientist (labelled quack) named Rubert Sheldrake on Ideas positing a force field that connects all living things was a tipping point (something else!) for me. Maybe a lot can yet be explained by science, but my gut tells me that there will be no end; we will never really ‘get it’. I know enough to know I know nothing. What I think and feel now is as good as anything.

I’m nowhere near reading horoscopes, but now that life as a cook has brought me in closer touch with my senses and to natural phenomena, I now tend to take my brain less seriously, and am more sensitive to all kinds of inputs. As a result, I feel an octave more alive, like I’m able to see things more clearly and believe more freely. I am ripe for a god of sorts. I no longer need to understand everything, but I do still need to compartmentalize my experience, to rationalize faith, and really, I just need to address the elephant in the room for once and for all. Let me call it God.

Heavy stuff you might say. I, on the other hand, feel light as a feather. I’ve rarely had such a good day cooking.. The bottom line is that appreciating an egg is taking one step closer to God. Happy Easter!