Dinner, July 4 - Getting Real in the Kitchen

Still going strong with local eats. Grass-fed sirloin pan-fried with garlic scapes served with yellow summer squash sauteed in duck fat and a tomato, cucumber and parsley salad. The olive oil and red wine vinegar dressing - not local. Everything else - local.

This entire dinner, including chopping, probably took me 30 minutes to make. Certainly no more than that. I see commercials all the time that insist on telling me I have no time to cook real food. They seem to think that since people (read: women) have jobs (outside the home as well as in) and families, fresh food and cooking are far too troublesome. Impossible, even. Why cook when you can reheat?

Thing is, cooking doesn't take all that long; it doesn't have to, anyway. Most meats grill up very quickly, but you can always chuck some chicken or pork in a crock pot, dump some liquid and veggies and herbs along for the ride, and let it cook while you're at work. Roast a chicken on the weekend and use it for salads during the week. If you're making a batch of marinara sauce or soup or chili, make extra and freeze it. There's lots of time-saving kitchen tricks that don't involve a plastic tray and microwave.

I think we've lost a lot of respect for cooking, and for food. I think we've forgotten the benefits of slowing down - stopping, even - and savouring moments. Cooking forces you to slow down and savour, and pay attention. It's a time where we can do something inherently good for ourselves and, even better, for others; we can nourish them, make them smile. I truly believe that little miracles are made in kitchens all over the world every day, and that these little miracles can help create a world that is happier, healthier, more conscious. Frozen, boxed heat-and-serve roast beef and canned veggies fill your gut the same as home-cooked roast and fresh veggies, but they don't fill your mind or your soul the same way. It's empty food. Dead. To paraphrase Gertrude Stein...there's just no THERE there.

If all you can do is one home cooked, fresh, from scratch meal a week, then do it. Even if you live by yourself. I know too many people who live alone and don't bother to cook much because "it's just me, why bother?" Because, silly...it's you. You're worth the bother.

Slow down and get real in the kitchen, and see if it doesn't spill over into the rest of your life. Might end up being just what you needed.

Hunting/Gathering, July 1

Liberty Village market, Sunday morning. I gathered berries, apples, raw honey, a monster romaine, tomatoes, garlic scapes, green beans, yellow and green round zucchini, cucumber, baby squash and flowers. The various squash/flowers are going to be sauteed with scapes in lard or duck fat and served alongside my meat from last week, though I am dreaming of stuffing the flowers with various savoury fillings, dipping in batter and deep-frying. We shall see. The romaine will find itself in salads or serving as a wrap for tuna/egg salad. Tomatoes get eaten as-is in these parts, but I may branch out and do up a tomato/cuke/scape salad. Berries are getting gobbled up with my new favorite thing, my coconut milk vanilla ice cream; the apples will be sauteed in coconut oil, cinnamon and honey til soft, mixed with some almond meal and maybe topped with ice cream for my quick and dirty version of apple pie/crumble. Not too low carb, really, but it hasn't interfered with my weight loss so I'm going for it.

So far, local eating is a breeze. It's easy to get meat, veggies, fruit and eggs. If I did dairy, I could get that too (and I may give sheep dairy a test, when my bowels and I aren't needed for anything outside of the house for a few days). But what about the stuff we don't think about, like condiments and oils and beverages? How local could I go if I tried? I'm keeping my eyes open for more goods. I did discover a locally made laundry soap, of all things, that I haven't tried yet. But are the ingredients local? I don't know.

For me, there are limits to local eating. At least for now. I don't want to give up my tea or my coconut milk and oil. I like olive oil for dressings. I have no immediate plans to make all of my own condiments, though there are a few I'd like to try doing on my own (ketchup, mayo). But I am committed to buying locally as much as possible, for as long as possible. And I am reading up on preserving and fermenting, so I can store some veggies for winter. I don't know where the hell I'll put them, as I'm in an apartment and have no pantry or cold cellar (though I'm not really using my linen closet...hmmm), but I'm enjoying the idea of preserved 'maters and homemade 'kraut.

One thing I haven't done is ask produce vendors about their chemical use. I don't know why. I prefer to buy organic, especially for certain items like strawberries. But I haven't asked. Quite honestly, I'm afraid of the answer. I have all these beautiful local sources of food, and inside I want them to be perfect. I don't want to find out that they douse their crops with chemical pesticides or pump their soil full of chemicals. Doesn't make sense, does it? It's easier sometimes to just not think about it, to just close my eyes and buy. It feels better, cozier, to pretend that I live in a world where food is totally, utterly safe and nourishing and I can eat anything I want without giving it a second thought. Fear and loathing gets tiring. Sometimes, I just want to eat.

Hunting/Gathering, June 28 - Gotta Pea

I love being a modern-day hunter/gatherer. A quick bus ride to Dufferin Grove Park and there they are, farmers just waiting to give me pastured, organic meat. They kill it and everything. Awesome.

Today's score: Octoberfest elk sausage and wild boar chops from Stonehenge Farms in Guelph; organic, free-run eggs from Country Meadows Organics in Queensville; and turkey thighs, hot dogs, belly bacon and a NY striploin from Beretta Organics in King township, about an hour north of Toronto. The best thing? All the sausage at this market is gluten-free! Just meat and spices - no preservatives, no fillers, no flavour boosters.

Tonight's dinner is going to be a bison patty, wild boar sausage and maybe some bacon and eggs along with peas, I think, because I have to start eating them. I bought them from a market last week and so far have used them in a bison stew, but there are tons left. I may cook them in some homemade beef broth with the last of my baby garlic. If I can be bothered to shell them, that is.

Actually, there's something very romantic about shelling peas. Not romantic in the...romantic sense. Romantic in the "ahh, this is so down home old fashioned wholesome" sense. Shelling peas should be done on an old front porch overlooking a full clothesline and a sea of green fields, in bare feet and a housedress and a kerchief on the head; on a hot, dry day, too hot to stay indoors and watch the paint peel and the floorboards bow and the door frames swell. It should be done while sipping a sweaty glass of fresh, cheek-sucking lemonade and swatting at hovering flies and listening to cicadas and the ping pang of peas hitting the bottom of the bowl. And every now and then, every few pods, you pop a little green bud in your mouth and bite, and it gives up its sweetness to you and, as you lift your apron to mop your brow, you think mmm, this is gonna be a fine dinner.

Course I'll be shelling them while standing at my kitchen counter in my apartment, cats underfoot demanding belly rubs and chasing errant peas on the floor. Not quite the same. And if the above scenario actually WERE true, I'd likely be cursing the heat and trying to pick off flies midair with strategically aimed pea pods, and then I'd remember that I don't even really like peas that much except when they're hidden in things, like stews, and I'd get frustrated and have a cool shower and order Swiss Chalet and veg out on the sofa with "So You Think You Can Dance". Crap, why did I buy peas?

Local Food Challenge - Dinner

Yesterday's dinner was EVOO and garlic-marinated elk steak with grilled veggies and spicy garlic relish, and homemade coconut milk vanilla ice cream with berries. It was so good I could have kissed myself. This will probably be dinner tonight as well, as I have another steak defrosted and ready to go.

Local: elk steak; spicy garlic relish; asparagus; baby zucchini/squash; lard (for the veggies); strawberries; cherries; raspberries; eggs and maple syrup (in ice cream).

Non-local: olive oil; baby carrots, cauliflower and garlic (have to use them up); coconut milk; vanilla extract, PolyD and Splenda (in ice cream).

I didn't take pics of Monday's dinner but I assure you, it looked DELICIOUS. It broke down like this...

Local: bison burger patty; wild boar sausage; hardboiled egg.

Non-local: mustard; Bubbie's sauerkraut and dill pickles; ketchup.

It was hot, and I just wasn't that hungry.

Local Food Challenge, and Food Wusses

Liberty Village farmer's market for Sunday, June 24th: asparagus, raspberries (the first pick of the season), baby summer squash with the flower intact, strawberries, cherries (my favorite!) bison sirloin and a jar of spicy garlic relish.

I have issued myself a challenge: to eat as much locally produced, in season food as possible. This means I'll be hitting the farmer's markets in my area, buying the bulk of my groceries from them and creating meals from what I've found there. Luckily, this includes meat! Some people have told me that the markets in their part of the world don't carry meat. To them I say...nyah nyah! I pity your malnourished, wimpy markets. I get pastured bison, elk, boar, pork, chicken and beef...and I just found a source of uncaged eggs! Boo-ya, bitches. That thar's good eetin'.

Note I said as much as possible. I realize that certain things, like tea, are not likely to be found growing locally. And I am not likely to give up certain things, like tea. Death would be preferable. Since I just purchased a kick-ass ice cream maker, I am not sacrificing coconut milk. I WILL eat ice cream again, dammit. But I'm going to do what I can.

In addition to supporting independent farmers - some of my favorite people on earth and the ones I would forcibly capture and enslave should total technological, environmental and economic collapse occur in my lifetime - local eating provides the opportunity to try foods I've never eaten before, foods you just don't find in Dominion. Last week, I had purple kohlrabi shredded like hash browns and fried, along with green garlic, in goose fat. I was in heaven. It gave me gas and I doubt I'll repeat it, but I was in heaven. For culinary adventurers, farmers markets are treasure troves.

For people like my BF, who are frightened by foods 1)that come from somewhere unhygienic, like the ground; 2) that they weren't given as a child; 3) that don't come from a packet and require the addition of water and/or vegetable oil, farmer's markets are total bloody nightmares. He looks around at tables overflowing with plump produce and sees evil, zombie-like creatures, clawing their way out of the sodden earth and mindlessly infesting our guts with bacteria, parasites and weird-foodness. Total food wuss. The kohlrabi, for instance, scared the crap out of him. "What the hell is THAT, " he demanded.

"It's a kohlrabi. It's like a..."

"Babe...you're not going to EAT it."

I laughed, because love is blind and I find this adorable. "Of course I'm going to eat it, dumb ass."

"It's purple." His eyes narrowed, as if trying to transmit lifesaving information to me through his gaze. "Food should NOT be PURPLE."

"What about eggplants, " I countered.

He nodded gravely. "Exactly."

I may get my tubes tied.

Whole-hog Homegrown

It's summertime, a time when a still-young-dammit girl's fancy turns to produce. Or in my case, to Farmer's Markets. I've decided to try to eat as locally as possible this summer. Usually, eating locally has meant choosing a restaurant within walking distance because I hate the bus. But no more! I'm going whole-hog into homegrown.


It's a trend these days, eating locally, but I'm not doing so for environmental reasons (even though those reasons are good, and I support them.) My concern is more to do with supporting local family farmers. I'd rather buy a bunch of asparagus from the person who actually grew it - someone I can actually see and speak to - than from the bin at Dominion. Family farms are a precious commodity in a food supply network that's becoming more and more industrialized and distant. Plus, as a paleo-food enthusiast it just makes more sense to focus on eating regional foodstuffs (There's a seperate paleo challenge going on...more about that in another post)


I was thrilled to discover that there's a Farmer's Market right in my little 'hood. Every Sunday, the Green P lot down the street from me turns into slow food heaven, with farmers from in and around the GTA hawking their wares. I got some fat, smiley strawberries, beautiful baby garlic and gorgeous little pattypan squashes that I have no idea what to do with. But my big score? Bison! The meat gods have blessed me with a weekly source of fresh bison from my new favorite person, Bill Belch. Bill's farm is in Peterborough, and I'm sure there are bison farms closer to me than that...but I don't care. Bill shows up a block from my apartment with coolers full of meat. I can even call him (toll-free) to let him know what I want. If that 'aint a sign from the universe, what is?

This new market inspired me. I've decided to only purchase produce that I find at Farmer's Markets. I know very little about the growing seasons here in Ontario, and this is an opportunity to learn what's in season and when (I may even - gasp - learn how to preserve stuff for winter use). Who wants to join me? Search out the Farmer's Markets in your area and use them as your exclusive suppliers of produce. And if there's people selling meat or honey or jam, all the better. I scored a jar of Big Ass Muskoka Steak Rub (made by James and Janice Jones, who run the Dorset-based Big Ass Garlic company) that tastes like frickin' heaven...and has a very short list of natural ingredients. I can't wait to smear it on a bison T-bone. Who knows what other treasures the markets may hold?


In the meantime, I need to find out what the hell to do with a pattypan squashes other than think they look like dreidels. They're bottom left, in the plastic container. And no, you can't spin them. I've tried.