According to an Ipsos Reid and Dietitians of Canada survey, which polled 2201 Canadians, local food preferences vary across the country.
British Columbia: fresh vegetables
Alberta: beef
Saskatchewan & Manitoba: corn
Ontario: apples
Quebec: cheese
Atlantic Region: lobster
Although I’m an Ontarian and do like apples, for me Niagara peaches are the local food that makes me weak in the knees. Ditto for wonderful Fifth Town and Monforte cheeses. What local food do you love most?
I was surprised the other day when a couple of savvy journalists I know hadn’t heard of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA). Granted, their beat is design and not food, but I thought that CSAs were becoming rather well known in cities like Toronto.
So, today, I give you some weekend homework: if you haven’t heard of CSAs please read on. If you have and can recommend a good one or offer tips to the uninitiated, please add a note in the comments section below.
What is a CSA? Originating in Europe about 90 years ago, CSAs offer a way to support local farmers and enjoy a ready supply of farm fresh foods. In other words, subscribing to a CSA gives you the benefits of a garden without having to get your hands dirty (think of the money you’ll save on manicures!)
How do CSAs work? To get involved, you need to find a participating farmer in your area and sign up for a produce subscription. In turn for supplying money up front in spring, you receive a weekly allotment of the farm’s harvest all summer and into early autumn. Finding a local CSA is becoming easier – especially in provinces like Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia and states like New York and California. Most areas have an online directory and many growers with farmers’ market stalls participate in these programs as well.
Are CSA’s just about vegetables? Nope. While many CSA subscriptions are for market produce (such as lettuce, tomatoes and carrots), artisans like Monforte Cheese in Stratford, ON use this system, too. “We launched a CSA program in February 2009,” notes Monforte spokesperson Maureen Argon. “People have purchased our CSAs as birthday presents, wedding presents and one man bought a $500 subscription for his parents 45th wedding anniversary.”
I’m curious, what appeals to you more: growing your own veggies, going to the farmers’ market or subscribing to a CSA? Personally, I’m keen on growing my own garden and going to the farmers’ market. I’m toying with signing up for a CSA, too though. It’s just a question of how much produce I can handle!
Remember when I wrote about the McItaly burger a couple of weeks ago and we had a debate about whether a multinational corporation like McDonald’s could really be sincere and help contribute to local food economies? Well, I have a feeling there will be absolutely no debate when I tell you this story.
Last week I went to the Toronto Buddha Dog location to try the pork based hot dogs pictured above. In the past, the two Andrews who own this mini chain have served almost exclusively beef dogs (turkey weiners sometimes make an appearance, too).
With bacon being such a big food trend, pork producers should be as happy as pigs in sh*t – but that’s just not the case. In fact, Canadian pork producers are struggling at best. So, to show their support for pork farmers, Buddha Dog commissioned an artisan pig farmer to create a premium, gourmet pork based hot dog from a Tamsworth pig. (They also got their baker to create a yummy sage bun and paired these two essential elements with Monforte’s ashed goat cheese and a zesty apple-rhubarb jam. Luanched today, International Pig Day, these tasty treats will be offered at Buddha Dog locations as long as supply lasts.
I know many of you reading today won’t be able to get to a Buddha Dog this month so, I urge you to make sure you support your local pork industry in other ways. Why not choose pork twice a week when planning your menus this month?
So, to help us all plan menus that include pork, please use the comments section to direct us to your favourite pork recipe. You can describe it, share it in full, add a link or reference your favourite recipe from a cookbook.
I’ll start off the list with a recipe from my last book:
Orange Teriyaki Ham Steak
2 tbsp (30 mL) each soy sauce and liquid honey
1 tsp (5 mL) each vegetable oil and rice wine vinegar
1/2 tsp (2 mL) each minced fresh ginger and orange zest
1 small clove garlic, minced
1 ham steak (6 oz/175 g)
sesame seeds (optional)
Blend the soy sauce with the honey, oil, vinegar, ginger, orange zest and garlic in a skillet set over high heat. Bring to a boil.
Add the ham and turn steak to coat in glaze mixture. Cook, turning often, for 3 to 5 minutes or until meat is well browned and glazed. Sprinkle with sesame seeds (if using) before serving. Makes 1 serving.
Should big corporations stay out of local food? I was torn to find a ready answer when I first started to consider this growing trend last Tuesday.
On the one hand, I know that big food companies feed the masses (heck, they feed me, too. Without big food companies as my clients, I’d be at the food bank.) Yet, products like the new McDonald’s McItaly burger, pictured above, seem the opposite of what we want local food to be.
Obviously McDonald’s is trying to leverage the Slow Food trend as a sales tool. Slow Food began (in Italy I might add) by advocating that eating food that was produced locally and processed minimally would lead to both a healthier planet and people. It has a close association with artisan production, not mass marketing.
On the other hand, the McItaly burger will put $4.9 million bucks a month into the soil encrusted hands of Italian farmers by using all Italian beef, cheese, artichoke spread, etc to deliver a local version of what must be acknowledged is one of the most successful restaurant products in the world, the McDonald’s hamburger.
I can’t ignore that people like cheap and fast food. These chains wouldn’t flourish if someone wasn’t buying their wares. Isn’t a local fast food burger better than a globally sourced fast food burger that racks up thousands of food miles on the way to your local drive thru? Likewise, local farms have diminished due to lack of markets so the McItaly burger can’t be bad for them either, right? Won’t this support lead to more farmers with more resources who can supply more food to their local customers at better prices?
If a big player like McDonald’s develops relationships with local sources, isn’t that what we need to really bring local food to everyone?
I know that a lot of you are going to have my head on a platter for this opinion (make sure you serve it with local vegetables!) but I welcome your thoughts. This is a topic that needs to be discussed.
And, may I also recommend you check out this article by Corby Kummer, author of The Pleasures of Slow Food. It reveals the results of the blind taste testing he did between local produce items purchased at Wal-Mart and at Whole Foods.
It’s a blustery, cold winter Saturday and my husband, son and I are in our bright red SUV on a snow swept backroad near Millbank, Ontario. We’re a crimson smear on a landscape made up of white and grey tones. While I check my blog stats on my iphone, my son watches a Family Guy episode in the back seat.
In the plain black car ahead of us, Rachel Bauman, a young, smiley, fresh-faced girl in a neat and trim sky blue, dairy maid’s frock and gauzy Mennonite prayer veil, leads us to David E.M. Martin’s pig farm. Driving behind us in his black Lexus hybrid is top tier food photographer James Tse. His cargo includes his assistant Ron, powerful computer and tens of thousands of dollars of state of the art photography equipment that Ron manipulates to work with this computer so that James can create the lovely images we all expect to see in modern food magazines and cookbooks.
The big topic of conversation in our car is the weather; I’m worried about how we’ll get home later if the storm that’s blustering outside intensifies; my husband Martin points out that our snow tires, all-wheel drive and his cautious driving will get us home easily. As our discussion continues, we pass both open and closed horse-drawn carriages transporting black-clad, grim faced passengers. There’s no doubt that heated, leather seats are keeping us warmer and more comfortable than they are.
We pull into David E.M. Martin’s farm and park our salt-splattered car across from a shiny black, enclosed buggy tethered to an impressively sleek black-brown horse; both stand at the ready for a passenger. We’ll learn shortly that this vehicle belongs to David’s brother who has come down the road to check out the city people who want to take pictures of the pigs.
We’re here because my husband, chef Martin Kouprie, wants not only to meet David so that they can talk about business, but also so that James can photograph the pigs for a book project Martin has in the works. I’m along not just as Martin’s wife but as a food writer eager to learn more about naturally raised pork. We’ve been visiting other artisan food producers for this project to gather background about the ingredients Martin uses in his restaurant and to take portraits of the producers in their work environment. At this stop, only the pigs will be asked to say ‘cheese’ since the Martins are old order Mennonites who don’t allow their photos to be taken for religious reasons.
Arranging this meeting required calling our friend Ruth Klahsen, the owner of nearby Monforte Dairy. Ruth sees David frequently since she sells whey, a byproduct of cheese making, to him, which he in turn feeds to the heritage variety pigs he raises with absolutely no hormones or antibiotics. None of us can phone David because he, like most members of his sect, does not use electricity, telephones or other electronic communication technology. He uses the post, answering letters in a craggy but legible long hand, but that’s the only other way to contact him besides knocking on his door personally.
Although it’s certainly easier to e-mail a wholesale butcher and order 100 pre-portioned pork chops, for chefs like Martin, it’s worth the extra effort to write a letter and do a bit of knife work to enjoy the sweet, succulent pork David E.M. Martin raises.
After we bundle up and follow Rachel through the squalls into the barn, we meet David, a pleasant, slight man with an intelligent twinkle in his eye. He takes us upstairs to meet the heritage breed sows and piglets that live in this lovely old, light-filled barn that smells of animals, dry straw and century old cobwebs. The pigs are shyer than expected, running off squealing when my son Oliver and I put our hands into their pens only to ease back so that they can snuffle our hands cautiously once they decide we’re friendly. Their skin is taught and firm to the touch, covered by a smattering of bristly hair; their ears and snouts are silky and soft.
A few of the pigs I’m petting will make their way to Pangaea over the coming months to be butchered artfully into loin chops and served as delicious entrées such as grilled pork chops served with Brussels sprouts, glazed chestnuts, porcini mushrooms, turnips and sweet red chili and maple sauce. The rest of each beast will be turned into prosciutto, salami, chorizo sausage, bacon and headcheese. These cured items will be arranged elegantly on Villeroy & Boch china and placed on white linen clad tables before the many appreciative diners who come to Pangaea for this handmade charcuterie.
After more than an hour spent talking with David and his brothers about raising pigs and growing heirloom tomatoes, I’m feeling inspired to write articles and blog posts that underline the importance of nurturing a local artisan food culture. I want to tell people to support restaurants and farmers’ markets who carry their products. I’m feeling practically evangelical about the purity of traditional farming and its importance for the future.
As we creep slowly along snow-covered Highway 401 back to Toronto, I realize that to these new acquaintances my job is, if not ineffable, certainly without relevance to their day-to-day lives. Not only do they not watch people like me on TV or read homemakers.com, they aren’t likely to buy one of my cookbooks or pick up a Food & Drink magazine when they’re at the LCBO, either.
The odd thing is that this realization isn’t depressing. In fact, it gives me a liberating new perspective: if I don’t get my blog post about gourmet cupcakes edited in time for my self-imposed 7:30 a.m. posting deadline, it doesn’t really matter. While the picture of the peanut buttercream topped chocolate cupcake may delight a few people and the concept may give others the dessert solution they need for a party, this post isn’t going to change anyone’s life.
On the other hand, if artisan farmers — Mennonite or otherwise — quit raising quality food, the world could change quite a bit. Their participation in the food chain enriches my life greatly, while mine has little impact for them unless I tell their stories and keep all of us focused on not just the joy of a well-made cupcake, but the importance of supporting local agriculture that has integrity.
Local foods are enjoying renewed popularity as people all over North America and Europe realize that nurturing a dependable, nearby food source leads not only to delicious eating experiences but enriched communities, too.
This new trend has spawned interesting new jobs. Take Paul Sawtell and Grace Mandarano who started 100km Foods in 2007. They noticed a lack of infrastructure for local food producers. Before 100km Foods, chefs who wanted local products had to find individual farmers, coordinate deliveries, and source new farms and products themselves. Plus, the farmers had to deal with deliveries, invoicing and receiving orders on top of their regular workload.
Enter Paul and Grace with an ambitious idea to help both sides do their jobs more easily:
“It was literally a case of cold calling farmers, driving up to their farms, sitting at their kitchen tables to tell them what we were trying to do and seeing what kind of products they could offer,” says Paul when asked to explain how 100km Foods started.
He and Grace initially drew largely on the member lists of organizations such as Durham Farm Fresh as well as York Region Farm Fresh to make contacts with the growers. Since then, their roster has grown mostly by taking product requests from chefs and subsequently finding farms that can offer supply.
What’s next? “In the future, 100km Foods will be a resource to GTA chefs offering a vast array of local foods including protein and dairy sourced from north, east, west and south of Toronto, all harvested to order with multiple deliveries per week. We also hope to expand our direct-to-consumer Ontario Artisan Share Program, providing all local, artisan-produced food products direct from producer to consumer.”
What’s happening in your area? Are you involved in CSA’s or aware of restaurants who work with companies like 100km Foods in your area? If so, give them a plug in the comments section.
Does everyone have food memories that take them back to their childhood? Probably. I know I have many.
At this time of the year, popping a semi-seedless Ontario Coronation grape on my tongue and feeling that burst of juicy goodness takes me right back to age 11 when my family lived in a house whose former owners had valued self-sufficiency very highly. Our standard-issue suburban yard was crammed full of wonderful fruit-bearing plants: damson plums, peaches, apples and pears grew in our backyard. All around the house, positioned above the lower storey windows like living awnings, were full, glorious grape vines whose leaves shaded the house all summer. I fondly remember, as an 11-year-old, teetering on my desk chair to open the window, sliding back the screen and picking a bouquet of blue-black grapes to eat before settling down to memorize my first list of spelling words for the school year.
Coronation and the other Ontario blue grape variety, Fredonia, are only available from mid-August to late September, so this is the perfect weekend to pick up a basket if you don’t have a grape vine growing over your bedroom window.
During the rest of the year, most commercially-available table grapes sold in Canada are imported from places like California. You can easily distinguish native blue table grapes from other table grapes by examining their size and skin. Imported table grapes are considerably larger than the blue grapes Canadian home gardeners can grow and they have skins that cling to the flesh of the fruit. Canadian-grown blue grapes, on the other hand, are each about the size of a small marble, cluster in tight bunches on the vine and feature ‘slip’ skins that can easily be removed from the fruit.
These wonderful little grapes are still a favourite of mine to eat out of hand, but I also like to add them to salads and use them in this once-a-year focaccia recipe:
Coronation Focaccia
1 envelope fast-acting dry yeast
2 1/2 cups (625 mL) bread or all-purpose flour (approx)
1/2 tsp (2 mL) salt
3/4 cup (175 mL) very warm water
1 tbsp (15 mL) lemon juice
1 tbsp (15 mL) liquid honey
1/4 cup (50 mL) melted butter
2 cups (500 mL) Ontario blue grapes, halved and seeded if necessary
1/3 cup (75 mL) muscovado or granulated sugar
1. Stir yeast with flour and salt and reserve. Stir water with lemon juice, honey and melted butter in a large bowl. Stir in half the flour mixture and blend well. Stir in remaining flour mixture and turn out onto the counter. Knead for 5 minutes or until smooth and elastic, adding up to 1/2 cup (125 mL) extra flour if necessary. Place in a lightly buttered bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Rest for 10 minutes.
2. Turn dough out of bowl and press out all the air. Roll dough into a large rectangle. Scatter half the grapes over dough and sprinkle with half the sugar. Brush around the edge of the dough with a little water and fold dough like a letter to make a rectangle. Crimp the edges of the dough to seal. Sprinkle with remaining grapes, turning skin side up and pressing gently into dough. Sprinkle with sugar. Transfer to a parchment paper-lined baking sheet.
3. Tent bread with plastic wrap and let rise for 1 hour. Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Bake focaccia on middle rack for 25 to 30 minutes or until well browned. Immediately loosen bread with a spatula from pan (it will be saucy on the bottom) and slide onto a rack to cool. Makes 1 loaf.
So, you’ve got lots of yummy, fresh fruit and you just don’t know how to use it. All you have to do is cut enough of it up to make 6 cups (1.5L). What can you do now besides make a fruit salad? You can make a crumble! (You can call it a crisp if you prefer. I don’t care as long as you save some for me.)
It’s easy to make a crumble. Just toss your fruit with enough honey or sugar to make it palatable and sprinkle with 2 tbsp (30 mL) all-purpose flour; toss well and transfer to an 8-inch (20 cm) round or square baking dish.
Next, throw together the easy crumble topping below; sprinkle it thickly and evenly over the sweetened, raw fruit and bake in a preheated 350°F (180°C) oven for 45 to 60 minutes or until the fruit is bubbly and the topping is golden.
Basic crumble topping
3/4 cup (175 mL) all-purpose or whole-wheat flour
3/4 cup (175 mL) rolled or quick oats
2/3 cup (150 mL) packed brown sugar
1/3 cup (75 mL) melted butter
Toss the flour, oats and sugar together until evenly combined. Drizzle with butter and toss well.
By the way, this topping can be made in bulk and kept in a tightly sealed container in the freezer so that you can use it anytime.
Now, before I sign off, let’s take a poll. Which title do you prefer: crisp or crumble?
This salad was the result of a panic attack: I looked at the counter and realized that I had way too many ripe peaches and tomatoes. The solution? Transform them into something fast!
I can’t seem to resist over-buying when I’m in the produce aisle at this time of year – everything looks so fantastic; it’s local; it’s good value and I just want it all! The downside to buying peaches and tomatoes by the basket instead of two or three at a time when you’re a family of three is that you have to eat a lot of produce quickly to avoid the guilt of wasting the best fruit you’ll taste all year long.
Peach and tomato salad
3 peaches
Balsamic vinegar
1 beefsteak or field tomato
4 fresh basil leaves (approx)
Salt and pepper
Extra virgin olive oil
4 handfuls mâché or another tender, small leaf lettuce
Blanch and peel the peaches. Cut them into wedges and toss with enough good quality balsamic vinegar to coat all over. Slice the tomato into wedges and add it to the bowl. Thinly slice the basil leaves and sprinkle over the fruit. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil. Toss gently.
Taste and add more vinegar, oil, salt or pepper as needed. Toss with the lettuce and serve immediately.
While “real,” “whole” and “local” foods get renewed attention, molecular gastronomy pushes the boundaries of “fake food” in an attempt to make something, seemingly, from ingredients that wouldn’t be considered foods in and of themselves.
Stretching the bounds of molecular gastronomy to their limits, 3-star Michelin chef Pierre Gagnaire collaborated with chemist Hervé This to create the first 100% synthetic recipe called Le note a note. Unveiled in Hong Kong in April, this appetizer consists of apple- and lemon-flavoured jelly orbs that are creamy on the inside and crackling on the outside.
Hmm… while this sounds impressive, I can’t imagine its invention is truly a first-time synthetic food accomplishment. After all, aren’t Kraft slices just a molecule away from being plastic?
What do you think about this event? Culinary breakthrough or Frankenfood horror story?
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