The Price of Food and the Cost of Food

'It costs too much' is, by far, the most common argument I hear with regards to why people are not inclined to purchase food that is sustainable - to their health, to their community and to the environment. I'm talking mostly about local and/or organic foods, as that is the little slice of the food world I currently find myself in, but the same claim is often laid upon conventional foods that are considered healthy - you know, the colourful, fresh ones that don't come in boxes with instructions on how to microwave contents in 2 minutes of less. So apparently, when it comes to food, as with many things it seems, cheaper is better. For a long time I just nodded my head when people used this line of defence - partly because I know people don't want to hear things that might challenge their thinking or choices, but mostly because, until recently, that was my validation for not buying local/organic. But the last year has one of great transformation in many areas of my life, including my diet and related food purchasing habits. Between growing my own food, working on a CSA farm, running a half marathon and taking the Locav-or-ganic Challenge while I was in Vermont, I realized I didn't want to be feeding my body cheap food anymore - it's simply not good for my body, nor for the environment, nor for that matter, for my palate, which has become quite fickle after enjoying local food for a few months (it's even shown a distaste for candy!!).

So, because I am a new convert to sustainable food and because I have to listen to people say 'it's too expensive' ALL the time, I am going to take this opportunity to defend the reputation of local and organic foods as 'costing too much' in comparison to industrially produced foods. First, however, I'm going to put forth the proposition that, perhaps, getting something 'cheap' or 'saving money' is not all it's cracked up to be. This quote, from an American president nonetheless, sums it up quite nicely I think.

'I do not prize the word cheap. It is not a badge of honor. It is a symbol of despair. Cheap prices make for cheap goods; cheap goods make for cheap men; and cheap men make for a cheap country' - William McKinley


So here's the thing: there is a very distinct and important difference between the price of something and the cost of something. This is true of most consumer products available to us Westerners, from sneakers to digital cameras to fuel to clothes hangers - we pay a subsidized price at the local Wal-Mart, Future Shop or Shell station, for items that have been produced, assembled, extracted, etc. at a cost that we are never charged -these are called Hidden Costs, (or if you're an economist or accountant, you might refer to them as externalities). Whether that be a social cost, where child slavery and/or labour abuses run rampant in an effort to 'maximize efficiency', or an environmental cost, where toxic industrial wastes are dumped into rivers and non-renewable resources are depleted to such an extent that future generations will suffer, or any other of a myriad of injustices and inequalities that arise as an effect of a supposed 'free market' system. Well, I'm sorry to say, but there is nothing free about this type of economic system, except perhaps the short-term, almost-free prices that us end consumers pay at the cash register. Our 'cheap' is someone else's 'very expensive' toll to pay.

Ah, but to assume the downsides of this (not) free market are only experienced by far, far off nations, and therefore somehow not of consequence to us, would be very wrong. The costs are being borne by us all, as individuals, as communities, as societies. There are a few things, however, aside from our abdication of responsibility as citizens (this in and of itself warrants a blog post of its own), that make it rather easy for us to ignore the costs of our consumptive choices. I'm only going to cite one in this post, as I have a tendency to be long-winded and have been repeatedly chastised for the length of my posts by one particularly dedicated reader (*cough* TC *cough*).

So, in my opinion, the major problem with hidden costs: the 'Time until Incubation Problem' or the T.I.Pping point, if you will. What I'm referring to is the fact that many of our cheap purchases today will not immediately translate into costly tolls on the environment, societies, communities or individuals. One of the reasons we have such cheap food is because we've become exceptionally good at producing high yields of calorie-dense food on the same plot of land, year in and year out. This is a monumental achievement in 20th century agriculture, whereby technology and industrial practices were applied to the practice of farming with great success (if, by success, one measures only the output of food from a given acreage of land). So, through application of fertilizers and pesticides, increased use of mechanization and monoculture cropping, a cheap food system has emerged. One where most families can afford to buy their calories for the day, whether it be at McDonald's or the frozen section of the grocery store. Cheap food abounds. But herein lies the problem - a cost avoided today at the drive-through or check-out, through the establishment of a subsidized, fossil-fuel dependent food system, will be borne in the future.

For example, the costs of monoculturing, pesticide use and fertilizer application on the fertility of the planet's fertile soil will be borne by future farmers and eaters (that's YOU and/or your children), not to mention the rest of the ecosystem that makes up this planet. Then there's the costs to future generations of establishing a farming system dependent on a non-renewable resource - at some point, whole communities and nations of people are likely going to have to revert to a much less energy-intensive form of farming. Not only will they lack the knowledge to do this, they'll also discover that, without fuel to farm, it may be impossible to feed the current population with less energy-intensive farming methods and poor soil - so food insecurity is likely to rise significantly.

And even if one doesn't give an iota about the future societal and environmental costs of their cheap purchase today, there's a high likelihood, when it comes to eating this industrial food, that they themselves will pay a high price, in the form of Type 2 Diabetes, obesity, heart disease, etc.
So wouldn't that be enough to convince people to change their lifestyle, including their diet, to reduce their chance of getting a disease? Wouldn't they rather pay a little bit more for food that is healthy, pesticide-free, free-range/pastured, fresh, and delicious, then end up having a chronic disease or a lower quality of life due to preventable health problems?

Apparently, to look at the increasing rates of obesity and diet-related disease over the past few decades, the answer is an emphatic 'NO'.

And, you know, I am certain there are many, many reasons that people aren't willing (or in some cases, unable) to make lifestyle changes and give good food a chance, but I think the main problem is that we view food in the lens of a 'price to pay'. When we go to the checkout at the grocery store and fork over money for our food, we see it as a loss. And since we see it as a cost that we have some ability to minimize, we tend to stock up on bargain items and go for the cheapest price. We tend to convince ourselves that we just CAN'T afford that local, organic food, somehow ignoring the fact that we somehow can afford to have two cars for a family of three, a flatscreen television with full cable access, a 10 day vacation to an all-inclusive resort in the South, or whatever it may be. And if we dared to consider the purchase of a car with that of food purchasing, most of us would argue that the car is an investment - that it's necessary in order to get to work and make an income or, in the case of a television and cable, that it's an investment in entertainment and relaxation that is needed at the end of a long workday. Do most people think of food this way - as an investment? I don't think so. But really, isn't food the ultimate long-term investment? I mean, really, on Maslow's hierarchy of needs for human survival it's kind of right up there with water and shelter right? So, wouldn't it be worth taking time to consider delicious, sustainably-produced food as an investment - one that gives an immediate return to you in quality of taste, and long-term returns to your health, not to mention the minimization of hidden environmental and social costs?

At the end of the day, many of us (and I suspect anyone reading this blog is a part of that 'us') have the disposable income available to make healthy, good food purchases that may APPEAR to cost more at the till, but that are, in fact, less expensive in the long run, then buying the cheap alternative food-like substances in the middle aisles and freezer section of the supermarket. It is a matter of coming to terms with the fact that 'price' and 'cost' are not synonomous, and that your food purchases are not a matter of what you can afford, but rather of what you've chosen to prioritize. I can only speak for myself in saying that this has been hard pill for me to swallow, acknowledging that my 'I'm a poor student' defense was really not a very good one, given that I drive a car, pay a cable bill and go to the movie theatre regularly. Well, now I eat delicious food and don't pay for cable, and it's been a fantastic trade-off.

I almost want to apologize for the preachy, ranty tone of this blog, but I'm going to resist. The choices each of us makes as a consumer have ramifications for all of us - today and into the future - so I think it's only fair that we be able to speak up and encourage more sustainable, healthy ways of living on this planet we all share. Time to stop nodding our heads.

*** It should be noted that while I imply in this blog post that I accept the argument that local/organic foods are, in fact, more expensive than their industrial counterparts (i.e. have a higher price tag), this is, in fact, not necessarily the case - it's not black and white, but many shades of grey - I just simplified it in this post for the sake of argument or excessive rambling.

The EAT Coast - A Kitchen Party in Halifax, Nova Scotia

I'd convinced myself that the moment I left Vermont and crossed the border into Canada, I would be freed from the seemingly never-ending opportunities to indulge in tempting foods grown locally. Then I realized I'd be crossing the border into Quebec and spending a weekend in Montreal, where the French-Canadiens still 'souvien's that 'bonne nouriturre' is a key ingredient to a 'bonne vie'. Plus, heck let's face it, they're smart and they know that soveriegnty and food independence go hand in hand. So, with visions of cheeses wheels and maple sugar candies dancing in my head, I promised myself I'd reform my gluttonous ways after the weekend, all the while ignoring the fact that this would also mark the last turn of the calendar year.

Yes, that's right, somehow I thought December would be an opportune time to begin reparations to my body which, with the exception of my taste buds, had suffered noticeably from six weeks of life south of the border. ( To be fair, this wasn't a completely absurd thought given that I have *actually* lost weight over the holidays in years past.) I rationalized that there'd be few, if any, social occasions where I could be a 'locav-or-ganic' and that had been my only justification for all the eating I'd done in Vermont - really it was purely research-based eating.
Well, in any case, it turned out I was wrong. Very wrong. I had underestimated the burgeoning local food scene on the East Coast of Canada (now affectionally referred to as the 'Eat Coast'), where I would be spending the remaining days of 2009. And, as I discovered on a weekend trip to Halifax, Nova Scotia, I had also grossly underestimated my friend Tarek's affinity for all things edible and local. He might very well love food as much as me. And that is saying a lot.

Cook. Eat. Drink. Repeat. That basically sums up my weekend in Halifax with Tarek. We did throw in one random 'Jog' on Sunday afternoon, just to shake things up a bit. Even that, however, involved food, as Tarek pointed out restaurants worth visiting along our jogging route and we ended our run with a visit to Pete's Frootique, where organic and local foods were on offer. At the end of the weekend, we agreed we would have to co-author a blog post about Eating on the East Coast. And so, here is what we got up to and chowed down on in Nouvelle Ecosse, in a sort of 'She Said, He Said' manner:

At a Warehouse in Brooklyn

Shannon Said
I made the 3.5 hour drive from PEI to Halifax on a gusty Friday afternoon - the Confederation Bridge was shut to high-sided vehicles and the speed limit for cars was 40km. My Toyota Echo was like a tin can, being whipped around the road every time gust of wind blew up Why am I sharing these seemingly non-food related details of my trip? Because it meant that I couldn't eat. And so, by the time I'd arrived in Halifax I'd had only a blueberry-banana almond shake the entire day. And Tarek clearly had his priorities figured out by the time we arrived at his apartment - they were of the liquid variety. So my next nourishment of the day was also drinkable - this time it was Irish and stout (like a leprechaun!). Suffice to say, by the time we headed out for dinner at 9pm I was ravishing.....in appetite, not in appearance.

I have to give Tarek great credit - he did his research on restaurants before I even showed up and then sent me links to a few of the websites, including one that featured a picture of a rather angry looking chef holding a big carving knife. The menu was more appealing than the chef's photo, and so we found ourselves walking the blustery (i.e. bloody cold) streets of Halifax in search of the very unobviously named 'Brooklyn Warehouse' (the building bore no resemblance to a warehouse and there was no bridge to Manhattan in sight...not even the one to Dartmouth was visible). We'd timed our arrival so we could take advantage of the Prix Fixe menu - a 3 course meal with options for each appetizer and the main. After very little contemplation we also decided we needed to consume more alcohol, this time in the form of a red wine. By the end of our meal I was stuffed, slightly inebriated and wholly impressed with the food, service and ambience provided by the Brooklyn Warehouse. I had a delicious warm mushroom salad served on a generous portion of greens, a terrine platter with pita and a variety of yummy dips, and for the main course chose the pork chop, which was even tastier once I learned that it had been sourced locally. So in the end, we each had an amazing 3 course meal, great service, and a shared a decent bottle of Pinot Noir for less than a hundred dollars. I'm not sure you'd be able to find a comparable meal for such a steal in the 'other' Brooklyn. Maybe, but I doubt it. Plus, chances of being mugged after dinner are probably lower in Halifax...

Tarek Said

When Shannon arrived we wasted no time getting right into one of our favourite pastimes - eating. We knew where we wanted to go - the Brooklyn Warehouse - and we knew what we wanted - the Prix Fixe menu. We had been planning this well before her arriva. So we braved the cold and windy night and walked over to the Brooklyn Warehouse. I went for the Mixed Greens, Red Curry Steamers and the Pork Chop and to go along with it all, we had a very nice Pinot Noir. I'm not going to give you a blow by blow of each course but I will say everything was fantastic. The mixed greens were delicious, the red curry mussels were amazing but the piece de resistance was the pork chop and risotto. I've made risotto many times, so needless to say I've had some really good risotto and occasionally some not-so-good risotto. I wasn't sure to expect, sure bacon in risotto makes sense, bacon does make everything taste better, but I would never have though of combining bacon and vanilla together but it worked! The pork chop was juicy and delicious! I didn't think Shannon and I were going to eat that good again all weekend long but thankfully I thought wrong!




Local pork chops, bacon-vanilla risotto
and seasonal vegetables.








Bacon Makes Everything Better

Tarek Said

The next day I tried and tried to convince Shannon to get up early with me to go to the Farmer's Market. The reason I wanted to go early was because I had to work, sadly some banks are opened on Saturdays, and the only way for me to do both, the market and work is to get to the market before anyone else. Personally, I love going to the market before the rush but if you know Shannon, you know she's not a morning person. She said she would go later and pick up whatever we were going to need. I felt safe letting Shannon pick the ingredients and she did not disappoint. She came back with 11 scallops in the shell @ $0.45 each (but he only charged her for 10 because he thought she was cute), a pound of nitrate free bacon, some locally made cheese (smoked Gouda I think) and some cauliflower. After work I picked up some traditional (raw) kibbie and mint from my father's restaurant. When my father makes kibbie he uses the nicest cut of beef from a local butcher. I picked up 2 pieces of cooked kibbie too. Our main course was going to be a piece of local grass fed beef but we quickly realized we had too much food so we left the steaks for another night. The guy at the market told Shannon how we should cook the scallops, steam them in a pan with some wine and garlic. Simple but delicious and with a small piece of bacon on top..... didn't I say bacon makes everything taste better! I always enjoy traditional kibbie, as it's not something my father makes very often. Kibbie and mint make an excellent combination and I was happy to see that Shannon was not turned off by eating raw beef. We polished off the scallops, cheese and kibbie with a bottle of wine, but sadly I can't think of what kind, or even if it was red or white. How much did we drink??

Shannon Said

OK, let's clarify something right now. I am neither a morning person, nor am I a non-morning person. I can get up early when need be, function at almost 100% and don't even growl at people (most of the time). But when Tarek suggested that we should get up at the ungodly early hour of 7.00 am just so we could get to the Farmer's Market before he went off to his bank job, I put up some resistance. Maybe a lot of resistance. I mean, really, I chose to become a studetn again expressly so I am not a slave to the alarm clock. I told him I'd go to the market on my own and get anything he wanted. He asked for bacon and scallops - I was also meant to pick up vegetables for him and his brother to eat throughout the week.

The Halifax Farmer's Market is AMAZING. I'd been once before, but had basically been dragged through it at high-speed in search of Belgian waffles. This time, I was on my own and had no schedule. The market is housed in a huge, old brick building on the waterfront. Inside, it's a labyrinth of hallways, stairwells and rooms filled with food and craft artisans selling their wares. There were two young guys at the entrance - one was playing a fiddle, the other a stand-up bass - yes, I was indeed back in the Maritimes. Just beyond them, I found chocolate and cheese purveyors. Clearly, this was going to be a fruitful market venture! I wandered around the market, ogling all sorts of goodies and plotting how I could make my purchases and still have a hand free to hold a crepe (I'd not had breakfast). I ended up with two bags full of groceries - bay scallops in the shellfrom a sustainable aquaculture outfit (loved that the guy was able to tell me how to cook them), nitrie-free bacon and sausages from Sweet Williams, apple cider, gouda cheese, and a tonne of vegetables including leeks, kale and organic potatoes. I am still curious as to what the guys did with the leeks and kale!

In the afternoon we stopped by Tarek's Cafe (Tarek's father is also named Tarek and has a restaurant in the North End of Halifax, where Tarek picked up some raw and cooked beef kibbie - this would be my second time eating raw meat. My mother, who works for the CFIA, might be cringing, but I trusted the source. We had been planning to cook up two local, grass fed steaks that Tarek already had in the fridge, but after looking at what we had planned for 'appetizers' I think we both realised we were being overly ambitious. So we saved the beef, and had a delicious sampling of cheeses, pita, raw/cooked meat, and scallops topped with bacon, all of which went well with the Pinot Grigio I'd picked up at the liquor store. I can't stop raving about the scallops and bacon - what an amazing combination. Maybe it's true, maybe bacon DOES make everything taste better, but I did have a few non-bacon adorned scallops and they held their own.

Bay scallops topped with bacon.

A GOURMET AFFAIR AT TAREK'S CAFE

Shannon Said

Tarek told me his father was charming (a trait which, according to Tarek, has not been inherited by him...I've yet to make my own conclusion.), and he was spot on with this descriptor. Late Sunday afternoon we made our way to Tarek's Cafe with beef steaks in hand, hopeful Tarek's father could BBQ them up on his grill. Evidently we looked like we were starving because his father insisted we have a seat while he cooked us up a feast. And he wasn't exagerrating in the least. Plate after plate arrived before us. Well, actually we were first presented with a bowl of spicy peanut shrimp soup - apparently the spice Tarek's father put in the soup was supposed to have special effects, which I'll refrain from elaborating on. Next up was grilled calamari wrapped around asparagus sticks, then just in case we were still hungry after all that lovely seafood, a plate of dips and pita arrived at the table. Despite already being close to full I couldn't pass up the baba ganoush and hummus that were tempting me. Mmmmmm...so delicious and so garlicky!

By the time our main meal was placed in front of us, served with a generous portion of linguine accented by garlic, of course, and steamed vegetables, I was *almost* convinced that one could, indeed, overdose on deliciousness. Still, there was steak to be eaten and I didn't want to appear ungrateful to our wonderful host/chef so I tentatively ate the steak, certain w that my stomach was plotting its vengence with every passing bite. And then they, the two Tareks, poured the last of the SECOND bottle of red wine and it was suggested that we might like to try Arak, a Syrian liquor with a 51.5% proof. Shot glasses were procurred and I drew on the last of my reserves to down two shots of the good stuff. It tasted a lot like zambuca (sp?) or licorice.

Tarek's father, who has been living in Halifax for over thirty years, was a great conversationalist ( a trait his son definitely inherited) and over the course of dinner I learned lots about the restaurant scene in the city (evidently it's changed a lot over the years) and about Tarek's Cafe. The restaurant has been in operation for 12 years, and has expanded in size over time. It is an order-at-the-counter and take a seat or take away type of place (i.e. there's no table service). The menu is mostly Middle Eastern fare, with many pitas, platters and kebab options on the menu. Notably, there's also a juice bar. I asked Tarek (the chef) why he advertised 'gluten free' options and he told me that he had customers who started telling him they couldn't eat wheat because they had celiac disease. So he decided to read up about the disease and now offfers a menu that is about 90% (this may not be correct percentage) gluten free. He also offers many vegetarian menu items.

We also had a bit a conversation about garlic - I noted that while he was catering to celiacs, he seemed to be opposed to having any vampires come withing a 50 foot radius of his restaurant. To say that Tarek appreciates what garlic can do for a dish would be an understatement. Apparently the restaurant goes through 20 to 25 lbs of the stuff a week!!! Tarek (the younger one) told me when he worked at Tarek's 2 (a sister restauarnt owned by his Uncle....so more of a brother restaurant reall) that he would bring bulbs of garlic home and mince/shave them while watching tv. Hehe. The walls at Tarek's Cafe were adorned with bouquets of garlic bulbs just in case any diner was unclear on the love affair the restauranteur had with this plant. Oh my. We talked about many other things, I am sure, but by then the Arak had hit me and I was distracted by worries about whether I'd be able to walk at all given the amount of food and alcohol in me.

Somehow we made it back to Tarek's apartment and managed to find room for some amazing maple ice wine and fudge, which we enjoyed while talking to our friend who lives in Alberta via Skype (the one whose wedding Tarek and I met at this past summer). Monday we went back to Tarek's Cafe for lunch - from the menu this time. I had the Chicken Souvlaki pita with tabouli salad and it was, unsurprisingly, extremely tasty. As I was trying to finish my pita, it occurred to me that I was very lucky neither of my parents had decided to go into the restaurant business. I can only imagine what impact such a decision would have had on me over the years, given my affinity for eating. I am quite certain my waistline would be in even dire straits than it is currently.

I left Halifax fully satiated and with intetions of returning sometime in the new year to enjoy the farmer's market, more of Tarek's hospitality (but shhh...he doesn't know I'm going to drop in on him again!) and some of the restaurants I didn't get around to eating at this time.

Tarek said

For Sunday night's meal we were going to have the grass fed beef. My brother and I had bought an 1/8th (or some fraction) of a cow and even before we received the meat, Shannon and I had agreed we were going to have a steak when she came to visit! We weren't sure what to cook with it, not that we were tired of cooking or out of ideas, I think we were tired from our 10k run that afternoon. We brought over the steak, and a bottle of Don David Malbec (red wine) to my father's restaurant for him to cook on the BBQ. Of course, he made us a few delicious appetizers. I rarely eat that well when I go there alone! Our first appetizer was a molokia soup with shrimp and roasted pine nuts. At some point, the 3 of us, Shannon, my father and myself, finished the bottle of wine we brought over so opened up another bottle of Don David my father just happened to have in the back kitchen. Finally, we had the steak with some asparagus on the side. The steak was perfectly cooked, nice and tender and delicious. Shannon and my father got along, she picked his brain about food and the restaurant business. Afterward, we went back to my apartment and had some fudge we bought that afternoon from Pete's Frootique and a bottle of Jost Maple Ice Wine that had been sitting around the apartment waiting for just the right occasion, and when two 'foodies' get together, they will make the right occasion happen.

An EPICurean Ending

I must preface this blog post with a warning to readers that it *may* contain some controversial/sensitive subject matter. Do not proceed if you are staunchly opposed to strange food combinations, Americans teaching Canadians how to play hockey, or the BBQing of poultry on a special occasion.

*************************************************************

Sadly, my sojourn south of the border has come to close, at least for the time being. My final two and a half weeks in Vermont left me wanting for nothing, except, perhaps, a second stomach and a higher tolerance level for fine red wine. In any case, data collection continued to fill my days, and was especially interesting coming on the end, as I finally tracked down some farmers to talk to. They were, by and large, the most interesting interviewees and if I were living in Vermont, I'd be begging one of them for an internship position so I can learn how to use a ho.

Outside of official research activities, I continued to take in as much of the local food scene as possible through direct observations (i.e. copious amounts of food consumption). Luckily, by this time I'd managed to meet some people who were willing to cook, eat, and drink with me, which meant I no longer relegated myself to Friday nights sitting in Kate's kitchen alone, drinking Boyden Valley apple wine and eating local Holstein balls. To be fair, this particular scenario only occurred twice, but that was 2 times too many for this social Canadian (not to be mistaken with a socialist Canadia because, as I was informed more than once by left-winged Vermonters, 'socialist' is a dirty word in most parts of the US, which I kind of already knew, but found amusing/concerning anyways). So, in the interests of trying to finish this blog post before another turkey dinner comes my way, here are the top 3 food stories from my final weeks in Vermont. Organized, quite judiciously, in chronological order from most matured to freshest.


PIES FOR PEOPLE

On a wet Tuesday evening (Nov 17th), after a full day of interviewing that had left me with no time to eat lunch or dinner, I found myself heading to Sterling College, which is located about half an hour from Hardwick in the small town of Craftsbury. Sterling College is the smallest college in the US, with about 100 students enrolled (that's a total #, over four years!), and on this particular evening, the college's kitchen was to serve as the functional venue for pie and soup making on a rather grand scale.

The task at hand: to make approximately 120 to 150 pumpkin pies for food pantries in the local area, and to make as much soup as possible from the squash puree that had been donated courtesy of High Mowing Seeds. The people who would make it happen: volunteers from Sterling College (mostly students, but also at least one staff member) and UVM (again, a mix of students & staff) and, um, one random Canadian grad student who found herself feeling ancient amongst a group of 20 year-olds that were remarkably mature and knew their way around a kitchen. Our fearless, brillian leader: Elena, who works at the Center for an Agricultural Economy in Hardwick (the non-profit organization that spearheaded the Pies for People project this year) ) and wielded her cooking and organizing skills to great effect. Within the span of 2 and half hours we managed to prepare, from scratch, 110 pie crusts, and defreeze (thaw?) the pie filling and squash soup puree. Oh, and clean! It was a fun night, captured on camera! Not to mention: This was really the 'final piece of the pie' in an inspiring collaboration between local farms, agriculture processors and schools, that committed to bringing Pies to the People, from planting, to harvesting, to pureeing, to preparing the final product.

I think this may be the first time I’ve prepared dessert without so much as a sample tasting! Notably, it was also one of the most enjoyable baking experiences I’ve had. I was salivating (figuratively, not literally b/c that would be gross) over the wonderful expansiveness of a commercial kitchen, all decked out with professional kitchen gadgets, pots galore, sharp knives and a sound system to boot... oh yeah, we were groovin’ to all sorts of tunes. My favorite eavesdropping moment of the evening was when the Dean of Students (probably not actually his official title, but it was something like that) for Sterling College who I’d guess was in his late forties, asked the young male student whose playlist was blaring out of the speakers what the name of the band playing was. When the student replied 'Death Cab for Cutie', the Dean asked him to repeat the name and then responded with 'uh huuuhhh'. I have to admit I felt a hint of jubilation that I recognized the name of the band - maybe I'm not so old after all.

APPLE & BACON A LA CRISP

My friend, Phil, had invited me along to a birthday celebration he was going to and suggested we make a locav-or-ganic dish to take with us. I told him I had a tonne of apples to use up and some local bacon from Bonnieview Farm that I'd been assured was delicious and nitrite free, assuming he'd suggest an apple dish and we would eat the bacon ourselves. Well, it turns out I underestimated the creative cook lurking in Phil, who promptly sent me a recipe for Apple-Bacon Pie. No really, Google it - there are a number of recipes out there for this strange savory-sweet combination of vitamins and fat.

Well, I'm not going to lie, I balked at the suggestion of bringing an Apple-Bacon pie to a birthday party where I knew no one. I could just imagine what they'd think/say. 'And then this Canadian girl showed up with an apple pie that had BACON in it'. It's a well known fact that Americans have a claim on apple pie, hence the phrase 'As American as apple pie', and Canadian Bacon is held in high esteem around the world, heck there's even a movie by the name! Did I really want to be the one to suggest an assimilation of these foods, a merger of deeply rooted culinary heritages? I think not. I am not that brave.

But then I came around to the idea, mostly b/c Phil was so enthusiastic about it and I'm not keen on extinguishing creativity in the kitchen. I gave him the simple task of peeling and slicing the apples and set about making the pie crust. The recipe called for a pre-made crust, but I was intent on making a crust that was from local or organic ingredients so started from scratch with organic flour, local Amish butter, and organic sugar. It seems, however, that I'd become a little too confident in my baking abilities and assumed that I could 'wing it' on the pastry recipe since I'd helped prepare 120 pie crusts earlier in the week (I somehow ignored the fact that Elena had given us very specific ingredient amounts to work with when we made the pie crust mix). Well, in any case, the Amish hadn't packaged their butter in the conventional 'stick', so I had to eyeball the amount. It should be noted that as I patted the dough into the pie pan, I commented to Phil that I *may* have put a bit more butter in than necessary. It turns out I was right on the money in this respect, as I discovered when I checked to see that the pie crust was baking up properly. It was not. Rather, the pastry dough had turned into a soggy, oily, unsalvageable mess.

I attempted to cover my embarrassment at the disastrous results of my pastry-making attempt, by using the oldest trick in the Cook's book - improvisation.

'Sooo...I don't think we're going to be bringing an apple-bacon pie to the party after all. Umm....how about an apple-bacon crisp?' I suggested, while taking a sizeable gulp of red wine in an effort to forget about my baking debacle. It didn't work. So I took another swig and then admitted to being embarrassed by my baking blunder. Phil didn't bat an eye, although he *may* have chuckled a little bit.

I do believe the apple-bacon crisp was thoroughly enjoyed by those that tried it. We ended up with a crisp to suit the vegetarian/traditional eaters and the more adventuresome/carnivorous eaters at the party by sprinkling the bacon on half of the crisp. In the end, I'm kind of glad I messed up the pie crust, because there's no saying that goes 'As American as apple crisp', so I didn't have to worry about justifying the intermingling of culinary heritages, only about the absurdity of pairing bacon with apples. And for the record, the Bonnieview Farm bacon is the best bacon I've ever had.




SMOKEY THE TURKEY AND AMERICAN-STYLE STICK GAMES

While it's true that we have Thanksgiving in Canada, I have come to discover that our celebration of the harvest is markedly different than that of our American counterparts in many ways. First, there's the obvious - Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving in mid-October, Americans in late November. When I was quizzed as to why Canadians had their turkey day so early, I had to postulate, on the spot, that our harvest is likely to end earlier given our northerly climate. This seemed to placate the American inquisitors, but then they (and by they, I mean Joe S.) came back with 'well, what are you celebrating exactly? I mean, did you have pilgrims?' Sigh, no we didn't have pilgrims and I have no idea why we celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada when it's not a British tradition, I suppose it must have been one of the few times we've been inspired by the American way.

As an aside to any Canadians visiting the States - you will be expected to know the rationale for everything that Canada and its inhabitants do or purport to be. You may, for example, be required to explain the Parliamentary system (just tell them it's like the British system with an air of assumption that everyone whose anyone understands the British system of government and they'll back off), or give them a list of Canadian foods (poutine is the obvious fallback here, but you could throw in some other French words for fun like 'tourtiere de lappin' or 'fromage souper' or 'le Horton's de Tim), or, if you're really lucky, someone will ask you what you think of single-payer (i.e. 'socialist) health care. At this point I suggest announcing that a Canadian invented basketball (they'll fight this to the tooth & nail, but just send them here to Canadian Heritage Minutes), that Alexander Graham Bell made the first telephone call from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and that the Star Spangled Banner was written by Francis Scott Key upon seeing Fort McHenry heavily bombarded by the Brits during the War of 1812, which was a war the US basically lost. For extra umph, make mention that the tune of their anthem is actually that of a very popular British drinking song of the time. This should be enough to encourage a change of subject, at which point you can stop worrying about not knowing why Canadians do what they do.

So in the lead up to American Thanksgiving (Nov. 26th) I was presented with two equally tempting invitations. Kate, whom I'd been staying with in Hardwick, invited me to the afternoon dinner she was attending- her daughter and her daughter's friend would be preparing the meal and both of them were professionally trained chefs. If I stayed in Hardwick I could also take part in the community lunch, which would feature turkey and all the trimmings. Two turkey dinners in one day - very, very tempting! On the other hand, Joe had invited me to join him and his wife, Maura, at their friends' (Charles & Holly) house for a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (i.e. for those that had nowhere else to go). Charles and Holly own the Penny Cluse Cafe in Burlington, where both Maura and Charles cook up divine dishes. So, again, dinner would be prepared by two chefs. Really, I couldn't go wrong with either invitation, but in the end I opted for the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with Joe & Maura for various reasons that may or may not have included mention of street hockey and special drink concoctions by Joe.

The day's festivities got off to a roaring start with Joe explaining to those of us standing in his driveway packing the car for the trip to Shelburne, his ingenious idea for transforming a tennis ball into a less bouncy, heavier, puck-like ball for the street hockey games that would take place later on.

'I stuffed some caulk in the balls', he stated rather proudly

And so, unsurprisingly, there was excessive use of the words 'caulk' and 'balls' throughout the day and well into the evening. By the end of the day, Joe was squeezing the caulk out of his balls - a messy job, but somebody's gotta do it.

We made a stop at the Penny Cluse to pick up Maura and a load of food that would be served up at dinner that evening, then headed for the countryside. The festivities began promptly upon arrival at Charles and Holly's with Joe mixing up some sort of cranberry-whisky (?) concoction that he dubbed 'Dirty Turkey' (I think, although I could be corrected on this). He offered me a sample. I tried to decline and failed. OK, here's the thing, I had accidentally consumed far more than my share of two bottles of fine red wine the evening before and was in no shape to be drinking anything besides water. So after one sample I bowed out of the alchol consumption (until I found myself gravitating towards a nice bottle of Riesling later on in the afternoon).

The afternoon was a blur of guests arriving and food being prepared while other food was simultaneously being thoroughly enjoyed. There was a cheese plate, a lamb sausage plate (courtesy of Bonnieview Farms - again, delicious fare!), scallop casserole , cauliflower soup, melon wrapped in prosciutto and that was just the appetizers. I kid you not.

At some point Joe, Charles, and some of the kids made their way outside for some street hockey action (it should be noted it was actually driveway hockey and that Charles had constructed end-boards so not every ball that missed the net had to be chased across the road...). I decided it was time to come into my own as a Canadian and so, for the first time in my life, I picked up stick and played hockey. Yes, yes, I am far too aware of how un-Canadian it is for me to have NEVER played hockey - street or ice - in the 29 years I've claimed citizenship of the great hockey nation. What can I say? I blame my parents. They gave me books to read and a bike to ride, but no hockey stick. Furthermore, I am well aware that Alanis would say 'isn't it ironic?' upon learning that my first hockey game was played south of the 49th parallel.

Well, in any event, I had a blast playing street hockey despite not being properly attired and completely perplexed as to why Charles was repeatedly calling me by my full name. And then, of course, there was Joe, who started calling out 'skrit' and 'ditch pig' as if I should know what the heck he was saying. Evidently I don't speak Canadian slang. I was feeling less and less like a true Canadian as the game wore on, but then, through some miracle of miracles, I scored on the net with a fantastic assist from a teammate! Woooh - there might be hope for me after all.

Meanwhile, while us humans were eating appetizers and playing in the driveway, Tom was spending his afternoon in the BBQ. At six o'clock we (approximately 12 of us) gathered around the dinner table where platters and dishes of food awaited us. I cannot even begin to recall the entire dinner - clearly Tom was the star of the show, a divine tasting turkey that had been grilled and thus had a hint of smokiness that was delightful. In addition there was stuffing which had been baked in a hollowed out pumpkin, mashed potatoes, endive casserole, some delicious roast vegetables with brussel sprouts and bacon making the dish particularly unique, scrumptious dinner rolls that Charles literally tossed to the guests (a little taste of football at the table!), cranberry relish, and other delights I am sure I am missing.

So we proceeded to stuff ourselves with deliciousness courtesy of Maura and Charles. It was, quite simply, a wonderful meal and I was so grateful to be a part of this special gathering of a closely knit group of friends, each one equally interesting, engaging, warm and welcoming. I've always maintained that friends are the family you choose, and I could see this sentiment rang very true in Charles and Holly's house that evening.

After dinner, many of us found our way back to the driveway for more street hockey. Joe had eased up on the 'skrit' name-calling, but dubbed me a 'cherry-picker'. It was neither here nor there to me, since I had no idea what the term meant. So I scored another goal and tried to avoid getting injured on my last day in a country that doesn't have universal health care. At one point, Harold, a friend of Joe's, took a time-out from playing hockey to tune up his fiddle. He sat on the sidelines playing jigs, reels and the such while we chased after Joe's caulky balls in the darkness of a late November evening.

And then we came inside for dessert and more mingling - after dinner arrivals had come in full force from their own festivities to say hello and catch up with friends and neighbors. At some point Joe and I discussed pop psychology and he pegged my Myers-Briggs personality type, which impressed me. That's when I advised him that the Star Spangled Banner was a defeatist war song, which did not impress him.

Eventually we said our goodbyes to our gracious hosts, Charles and Holly. I think I may have made a promise to come back to Burlington solely to enjoy the next Penny Cluse dinner series meal. If it means eating delicious food and enjoying the company of some of the delightful people I met at my first American Thanksgiving, then I may very well find myself back in Vermont sooner then I'd planned. And that would be perfectly fine by me.


Stuffing in Pumpkin - YUM!


Tom is grilled. Joe makes a friend.

Tarek's Take on The Omnivore's Dilemma

On occasion, or perhaps more often than that, I throw out reading suggestions to random people that I may or may not know very well. I have a mainstay list of must-reads that I surreptitiously slip into conversation:

'Oh you want to go to the San Fransisco zoo someday eh? That's cool, San Fran is an awesome city! You know, if you enjoy zoos, I'm sure you'd enjoy the book Ishmael. The main character is a gorilla.'

I obviously choose not to mention that the gorilla, Ishmael, communicates through telepathy with the protagonist of the novel, a young male writer who volunteers to be the gorilla's student as he searches for answers about how the world came to be as it is, and what the future might hold.

Right. Well, in any case, as of late most of my book recommendations tend to be food related and typically the first book I recommend to people on the subject is Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. There are many excellent exposes of the food industry in America out on bookshelves, but Pollan's approach offers multiple perspectives from which to view one's dinner - he basically explores four paths by which food reaches the dinner table: industrial (dominant), organic, local or closed-system agriculture, and personal (i.e. hunting/foraging). There are other books I enthusiastically recommend as well, but Pollan is a captive storyteller who has done his research, both secondary and primary, with respect to America's food systems, and The Omnivore's offers an appetizing point of entry into discovering more about how the food that ends up on your dinner plate, got to be there.

All of this is to say that back in October, over post-marathon drinks at Hunter's Ale House in Charlottetown, I *may* have suggested to newly minted friend, Tarek, that he check out both of Pollan's books. Now, I don't ALWAYS throw books suggestions at new people I'm just getting to know - first I suss them out to see if they'll be amenable to reading suggestions. I do this very subtely by saying 'Do you read?' If they indicate that they read (and don't mention 'Playboy' in their response), then I see them as fair game.

But to be honest, I never really expect anyone to take me up. Quite frankly I am always shocked when I learn that people have listened to any sort of advice or suggestions I dole out. And so it was that I found myself mildly shocked when Tarek told me that he'd actually made the effort to visit the library and pick up The Omnivore's Dilemma. I was even more surprised (pleasantly) when he began reading it and asking me questions. Woohoo - someone to have food conversations with and (possibly?) a convert! The shock of all shocks came when I discovered that Tarek had followed through with his promise to write a 'not a book report', which I happily promised to post to my blog. So, for the second time in as many months, let me warmly welcome guest blogger, Tarek Clamp.

THE OMNIVORE'S DILEMMA - THIS IS NOT A BOOK REPORT

This is not a book report. This is not a book review. This IS what I took from Michael Pollan’s book The Omnivore’s Dilemma, a book that was highly, and repeatedly, recommended during the marathon weekend in PEI. A day after coming from home Charlottetown, my stiff legs walked my aching body into the library. I picked up the book and it has kept me company on the bus ride to & from work.

If we are what we eat, chances are we’re probably corn. That was the message I got after Pollan follows the life of a kernel from a farm to how it gets put into a Big Mac, Coca-Cola, a Swanson’s TV dinner, spaghetti sauce off the grocery store shelf, or almost anything you can think, even the Sausage McMuffin I enjoyed a few mornings a week while booting up my computer at work.

How does corn get into this food? Let’s see. Corn is used as feed for the cattle (7lbs of corn turns into a ½ lbs of edible meat). Corn is used to make a sweetener, HFCS (high-fructose corn syrup), the bun, the burger, ketchup, Coca-Coke. Fermented corn is used to make citric acid (in the Spaghetti sauce).

At no point does Pollan’s book ever turn me off from eating what I enjoy, whether it is my Sausage McMuffin, ground beef, that more than likely came from a Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation (CAFO, i.e. factory farm), or food from a restaurant. I am more consciously aware of what is very likely in the food I buy but he doesn’t try to gross me out or make me feel guilty about liking it. I began to catch myself looking at the labels to see if there really was corn in the food I buy. Now I know there is a very good chance that there is corn in it and, more importantly, I understand why.

Thanks to Pollan I now want to work on a farm. He romanticized the idea of working on a farm, and I have considered and continue to consider, quitting my office job. I know there’s no money in growing food, but rather, only in ‘adding value i.e. processing food. I’ve looked at internships on Joel Salatin’s farm, Polyface, and there’s a chance I could be there in 2011. I tried to convince my friend Shannon to run a farm with me... or work on a farm with me. It’s probably a good thing that she didn’t say “YES, I FOUND US A PLACE TO WORK” because I don’t know if I’d be ready to go. I’m sure I could kill a chicken. I actually wanted to help butcher the chicken my roommate received for Christmas when I was in Ghana but sadly our watchman got to it before I got home. He (the chicken) did make a good dinner.

Sure, I could do it for a week, a few months, maybe even a year, but at some point I’ll want to travel and then who is going to do my job? If I can’t work on a farm, then I want to buy my food from a place like Polyface Farm. And wouldn’t you know I just moved into a new apartment above a store that supports local agriculture. Soon my brother and I will be getting 25lbs of grass fed beef and each week a box of veggies from a local farm! I can’t wait!

I question how Salatin would kill his cows if he was allowed and how he would, or could he, be more ethical than the commercial butchers, who accept a 5% error ratio. Errors being a cow still alive after a 5” “nail” being shot into the head.

Finally Pollan decides to be hunter/gatherer, not my favourite part of the book. He learns how to hunt mushrooms and wild boar. With a lot of help he manages to make a complete meal from food he foraged, something he knows is not an option for the majority of people. Even he can’t do it, except on special occasions. He philosophizes on the ethics of hunting animals, something I have absolutely no issues with, not that I’ve done it but I would. I grew up in rural area, people hunt. They enjoy it, and if they don’t get anything, they still enjoy it. If they do get a deer, they have meat for a while! I don’t know of anyone who hunts for sport, and that, I would probably have a problem with.

So what did I get from this book? That if you want to be healthy, staying as close to source of your food is the answer. Make your meals from scratch so you know what is in your food. Try to buy locally produced items (veggies, fruit, meat, bread) and get to know where your food comes from. The more you know, the better off you are. Money that stays in the community is better for the community. Not because of this book, I’ve been doing this for a few months now already, but I’ve been buying some of my meat and most of my veggies from local farms (local to me is about 100km away) who set up shop at the Saturday market in Halifax.

And that’s it. For now.

'I Am Not A Glutton, I Am An Explorer Of Food'

I found myself suffering title-ist block as I sat down to write this blog entry. Clearly this is because my last attempt at post titling ended in me alliterating my way out of thinking up an even mildly witty title. So this time I cheated. I typed 'quotes about food' into Google's search engine and voila, found the perfect quote for this particular post (what is wrong with me? I have an addiction to alliteration!).

So a thank you to the late Erma Bombeck for offering me an escape from 1 of the 7 deadly sins through the use of creative redirection: 'I am not a glutton, I am an explorer of food.'

Indeed, I daresay if there were a Food Explorer's Club, I'd be vying for top honours in 'Greatest Number of Enviable Eating Explorations'. All I can say is that I'm holding up my end of the bargain, and thusfar Vermont has been holding up its end by offering endless opportunities to be a glutt....um...I mean a gastronomic explorer.

Here then, are accounts of my most recent food explorations, sub-titled by individual conquest.

Burlington Bluebird

Burlington is to Vermont what Charlottetown is to Prince Edward Island. Which is to say, it's the only 'city' in the state. And I use the term city very loosely. I believe the population is approximately 35,000 in the City proper, although I've been told (with great emphasis) that IF you add in the surrounding towns AND the student population of UVM it's more like 70,000. Charlottetown also has a population of approximately 35,000. Notably, Vermont has a total population of 600,000, while PEI's is only 140,000, which seems to suggest that PEI is MORE urban than Vermont. This strikes me as absurdly funny, but I suspect that might be because I am writing this under the influence of many glasses of apple cider.

Right, so my point is that both Charlottetown and Burlington residents enjoy a disproportionate number of great dining choices given their size. Off the top of my head, I would recommend the following restaurants in Charlottetown and area(depending on what one is looking for in terms of food, price, etc.): The Dunes, The Merchantman, The Pilot House, Leo's Thai Kitchen, Cedar's Eatery, Off Broadway, Churchill Arms (for cheap English curry!), and Mavor's . In Burlington, I've enjoyed meals at Penny Cluse, American Flatbread and, most recently, at a place whose name I've yet to learn the origin of (but should).

So last Saturday, after an afternoon of wine sampling at Shelburne Vineyard and an intermission to enjoy some live music at a funky bar called Radio Bean, my friend (we'll call him Phil-up-on-Food or PF for short) suggested we have dinner at Bluebird Tavern. Joe (see Shannon Had a Lot of Lamb blog post) had already recommended the restaurant and I'd been following their menu tweets on Twitter, so enthusiastically agreed. A self-described gastro-pub (basically I think that means they aim to do beer AND food equally well) located on Riverside Avenue, the tavern benefits from its proximity to the Intervale, which is home to several small-scale and incubator farms that serve the local market. The tavern's interior offered a cozy winter cabin feel, which is interesting given that the place used to house a Mexican restaurant. I felt like I should be wearing a parka and long underwear, or at least a wool sweater. Oh well. I ordered a pint of Switchback (thankfully, there are many microbreweries in VT). The menu was full of enticing options, but it quickly became evident that we should enjoy a share dinner. In breaking with tradition, I (kind of) insisted on having the chicken option purely based on the accompaniment, which was foraged wild mushrooms. We had two appetizers to start: kale sauteed in something (memory is failing me) and lamb sausage. What can I say, except that the entire meal was divine. I believe my favorite tastes were those of the foraged mushrooms, which were accented by other tasty morsels (not morels!).

Wednesday, I made a second visit to the Bluebird Tavern with Joe and his wife, Maura. We drank at the bar and sampled off the tavern menu: poutine (Quebec border is about 45 mins north!), butcher's board (meat pates and mustards), and squid (from Rhode Island - not really local, but as local as one could get with seafood in VT). The fare was tasty and the company much enjoyed. While we bevvied a number of people stopped by to say hello to Joe and Maura, which made me think of Ireland and Scotland, where the pub was always 'a third place'...a place for people to come together, say hello, catch up with old friends and, more often than not, make new friends. Maybe, given its unique location in a town and state where 'community' still seems to hold meaning and value, the Bluebird had been able to transplant the tradition of the public house to America. Did I mention I love Vermont?

Jerusalem Art-I-Choke on Soup

On Sunday afternoon I drove to the outskirts of Montpelier to meet up with another new found friend who was testing the soil in the yard of his rental accommodation, which is an impressive schoolhouse-turned-open-concept-house, to see if it was acidic/neutral/alkaline when I arrived. Neutral....just like Switzerland, as Jen Mac would say. He pointed to what looked like some tall weeds in an overgrown area that 'may' have been a garden at one point and said the landlord had told him that those plants were Jerusalem artichokes. He drove a shovel into the soil and moved some of the sod away to find the artichoke. At first neither of us could find the tuber, but eventually landed upon what looked, to me, like a radish. Neither of us was completely sure this was the artichoke in question, but we forged ahead with the artichoke harvest and ended up with about 8 tubers, some larger than others. After a hike that was thwarted by the sound of hunter's shotguns, we decided to make dinner from our foraged food. I checked google images to confirm whether our treasures were, in fact, edible. Well, to be honest, the images didn't exactly match what we'd unearthed, but that didn't stop us from making a Jerusalem Artichoke Soup, which, if I do say so myself, was quite delicious, albeit rather ugly. Best of all, it turns out we didn't mistakenly eat something poisonous. Always a bonus.

No-Economists-Land (aka - A Free Lunch)

In my first year of university, I recall my Microeconomics professor vehemently proclaiming that there is no such thing as a free lunch. He explained that there is always a cost a 'free lunch' because the time taken to eat that free lunch is considered a 'cost'. Well, I've always disagreed with this argument b/c regardless of whether someone else is treating or you are going out on your own nickel, you're still going to be taking time to eat the food, so doesn't that make the issue of 'time' a moot point? Personally, I'm not a fan of classic economic thought, it's rather reductionist and it takes the fun out of things. Except the dude who wrote Freakonomics is still in my good books - he makes economics fun!

In any case, every Thursday there is a community lunch in Hardwick., VT. It's held at one of the churches on Main St., but is not hosted by the church. I believe it was started a couple of years ago by Robin, one of the collective members at Buffalo Mountain Co-op. So I dropped in and found myself at the end of a line of about 20 or 30 people, and there were probably about 50 people already digging into what looked like a hearty, colourful lunch. There was a donation box sitting at one of the tables in a rather understated way. Once I came to the table of food I took a glass plate (yay to no paper plates) and piled some roasted veggies and couscous, then ladled some hearty beef soup into a soup bowl. Apple cake was also on offer, along with apple juice and homemade coleslaw. I sat down with Kate and her two adorable granddaughters, and was introduced to a couple of local folk, including a long-time farmer who raved about how well Quebec treats its farmers and told me neither of his children was interested in taking over the farm (the work's too hard) and another older man who is a blacksmith. And it occurred to me that we are on the brink of losing a generation of very knowledgeable people whose skills we will dearly need as the centralized, oil-dependent systems we depend on become even less stable than they currently are. The era of valuing a certain kind of left-brain thinking over all other kinds of thought and labour is, in my opinion, nearing an end. And when it does, we may or may not be in the position of having a huge gap in essential knowledge around things like how to grow food, how to build homes, how to take care of our health, etc. It would behoove us to be proactive on this front, however, I'm not entirely optimistic that the left-brain thinkers that dominate today are going to have the foresight to avert the loss of traditional knowledge bases.

In any case, I quite enjoyed my community lunch, and didn't meet any economists. I doubt there are any living in Hardwick. And that's probably a good thing. About 120 to 150 people show up for lunch each week and somehow they manage to keep this going, despite the fact that it's free.

Ice Cream from the Dairy-Air of Vermont

OK, so I've been holding out on taking a field trip to Waterbury, VT in hopes that some friend from The Great White North might come to visit me while I'm living here and then we could check out Waterbury together. More specifically, we could check out Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory, which is located in Waterbury!!!! Yes, yes, that's right folks, some of the world's best ice cream is made just half an hour from where I am currently residing, making it very local and therefore within the scope of my locav-or-ganic challenge. Oh what a burden this challenge is. Do you know how hard it is to choose between 30 different flavours of wonderfulness? It's nearly impossible.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First, it should be noted that I could not hold out any longer and saw now sign of any friends from Canadia dropping in on me. So, I decided I'd go it alone, and set out on Friday afternoon - the sun was shining and my legs were sore for no particular reason. Originally my plan had been to hit up two chocolate shops, an organic bakery AND the ice cream factory in one go. At some point during the first fifteen minutes of my drive, I came to the logical conclusion that this was far too ambitious given my time frame (not to mention, far too indulgent).

Yes, it was indeed a day of strange occurrences - my legs were sore and I'd employed logic to make a decision. That's when I realised...it was Friday, the 13th. Strange things were bound to happen. Maybe, I hypothesized, Ben & Jerry's will turn into some sort of Willy Wonka-like movie, where we get to slide down mountains of ice cream, and swim in lakes of hot chocolate sundae sauce. Ooooh, and maybe Ben & Jerry didn't REALLY sell out to Unilever, but are waiting for just the right person to happen upon their factory doors and that person will inherit the dairy-dom. And clearly, that person will be me!!

But I digress.... sometimes I get a little carried away with my food fantasies. Please forgive me.

Before I reached B & J's place, I stopped in at Cold Hollow Cider Mill, which offers visitors the opportunity to see a commercial cider mill in action and, of course, plenty of apple-inspired foods to purchase and enjoy. I bought a half gallon of apple cider. That is what I am polishing off right now. It's delicious.

Ben & Jerry's ice cream factory is fun! That's really the best adjective I can think of to describe my experience there. They've done a great job of creating a comfortable, colourful and funny (in a v. corny way...or should I say 'milky way'?) experience. The factory tour was $3, and took about half an hour - the first 7 minutes of which were a video about the history of the company (they got started after taking a $5 correspondence course on ice cream making through Penn State!). Then we were taken to a viewing deck above the production floor and the guide went through the ice cream making process with us. Unfortunately, there was no ice cream production going on while I was there. Finally we were led to the tasting room, where we were given generous samples of the taste of the day - a Mint Chocolate ice cream (can't recall the exact title). It was delicious. After that, I checked out the retail store, picked up a pint of Frozen Yogurt (Half Baked) for $4.75 and then proceeded to the scoop shop for a cone of some delicious flavor. Normally, I'd go for something with PB in it, but on this day I decided to try a flavour that I'd never had before: Chocolate Chip Cookie dough. It was delicious. Unfortunately, I had been feeling progressively worse throughout the day and didn't have an appetite, so some of my B&J cone ended up on the I-89. Oh dear. Clearly I will need to pay another visit when I am feeling better, if only to stock up on more pints of ice cream to share with friends back in Kingston!


And that, I believe, is an 'almost' complete recount of my food experiences thus far. I'm still holding out on writing about the various food enterprises in Hardwick, but they will come soon, I promise!

Holsteinballs, Chocolate Stout and Other Adventures in Vermont Cuisine!

Pumpkin Lane. What a lovely name for a road! Little did I know when I decided to see where it led, that I would find myself face to face with my dinner choice. Well, OK, not technically this evening's dinner, because clearly the ground beef I'd made into meat balls earlier in the day was not from any of the Holsteins that stopped, stared and then posed for a picture. It was an idyllic farm scene - rolling green hills, cows happily grazing on grass and enjoying the hay that had been put out for them. Across from the field sat a large, white farmhouse. The front lawn was filled with pumpkins of all sizes, green and orange, with a sign that said 'Self Serve'. Adjacent to the driveway was a large sign announcing that this was the 'Snug Valley Farm'.

Hmmm, that's familiar, I thought to myself. Why does that name seem so familiar?

At first I figured it was because I'd been compiling a list of local farms to contact for my research project, but then I realized that, in fact, I'd opened a package of hamburger meat with the Snug Valley label on it earlier in the day to prep for dinner. So there I was, standing face to face with these adorable, curious cows who had stopped grazing on grass to come say hello to me. And it dawned on me that this was probably the closest I'd ever been to seeing my protein dinner choice before it ended up in cellophane. It wasn't a traumatic experience, particularly since I didn't see the cows being slaughtered, but rather saw them enjoying a cow life. And they weren't in one of those horrible CAFOs where most beef cattle spend a good chunk of their life standing around in cramped paddocks, where the ground is a bed of dirt and feces and they are fed diet high in corn and given loads of antibiotics (to treat them for illnesses related directly to their living conditions and diet, ironically).

But this did give me pause for thought about my dinner and its origins. And that, is in fact, precisely what the first few days of my Locav-or-ganic Challenge have given me - more to think about, at every meal. Beyond the obvious questions that you'd expect when taking on a challenge like this, such as 'where am I going to find local meat?' and 'how am I going to survive without chocolate', after only three days I've found myself asking other questions, such as:

'Is eating locally, sustainably raised meat really worse for the environment than eating a diet that is, perhaps, void of meat but full of processed foods and foods that have been shipped from distant fields?'

'How many meals do I really need to eat each day?'

'What is my body telling me about my changing diet, now that I'm eating way more meat and no refined sugars, and minimal gluten?'

Yes, it's most definitely been an interesting few days. My first day, Sunday, I decided to go for a 10k run before eating anything. Or maybe I did have an apple, but not my usual oatmeal breakfast that's for sure! I got through the run, had my almond milk shake (as per my rule, the almond milk was 'stocked food' that I'd brought with me to Vermont). Then, mid-afternoon I decided to dive into making something out of the local ground pork I'd purchased at the co-op the day before. I quickly decided to make burgers - tossed in some onions, spices, an egg and some local, homemade garden ketchup, pattied them up and put them in the oven to bake. About 20 minutes later the fire alarm went off. Oops - so much fat was jumping out of the baking dish I was rather taken aback. I can't recall the last time I'd cooked anything with so many fat drippings. I topped it with some onion and more homemade ketchup, made a nice garden salad with it and then dug in. Wow. The burger was soooo delicious - I think this was partly because the meat was juicy and full of flavor, partly b/c that ketchup I bought as so yum!

In the evening I went to Vermont's state capital, Montpelier, to meet up with a cohort in the local food movement (yes, I need friends!). We enjoyed a pint of local, organic beer at the Langdon St. Cafe, then he needed to grab a bite to eat. I wasn't the least bit hungry and didn't want to burden him with finding a place that served local food in any case, so I watched him eat. Then we went to another bar and I enjoyed a local(ish) chocolate stout. Woohoo ! Myth # 1 debunked - You can 'go local' and still have your chocolate...and in alcoholic form nonetheless!

Yesterday, I headed to Burlington at noon, enjoying a leftover pork burger and salad just before I headed out on my trip. My afternoon was spent meeting folks at UVM - the university has been collaborating with Hardwick's Center for an Agricultural Economy on several local food projects. Two of the staff members took me for a tour of the Intervale - 350 acres of farmland in the city limits (adjacent to the unviersity) that have been preserved in a land trust and that serve to feed residents of the city through various means. There are community garden plots, a number of CSA operations, incubator farms, small scale farms. I even saw pigs on one piece of land!

In the evening I hung out with a self-proclaimed clean energy geek that showed me around town (on bikes of course!), then took me to a pizza place called American Flatbread with a twist - all the doughs are made from organic wheat and the restaurant endeavours to source its ingredients from local and/or organic suppliers. Close enough for me to be acceptable, given the circumstances. We shared the vegetarian special which had a potato leek sauce. Also enjoyed some beer brewed on the premises. Next, my new friend took me to a meeting he was attending of the Burlington Permaculture group. Seriously, I should be living in this city!! To round out the evening, I did some grocery shopping at the City Market, a co-op grocery store with a full line of foods.

Today, as I've already related, I made meatballs, or Holsteinballs, as I've decided to call them after my accidental viewing of the alive version of my meal. Dinner was rice pasta (also from stocked food), which was a last resort after I searched the town high and low for spaghetti squash (this was why I'd ventured down Pumpkin Lane in the first place!), with organic marinara sauce, meatballs and salad. Lunch was a pork burger and salad. Breakfast was a protein shake.

OK, so clearly I'm not a purist, but my diet has changed significantly nonetheless over the past few days and already I've noticed some very interesting things

First, I've been waay less hungry/inclined to eat than usual. I'm not sure why this is - I suspect it's because I've cut sugars and most carbs out of my diet (partly b/c this locav-or-ganic deems that necessary, partly b/c I've been reading up on the GI Diet, Primal Diet, etc.), while at the same time increased my 'happy' meat consumption significantly.

Secondly, I enjoy eating meat. I didn't think I did for a long time, so my dinners were often tofu stir-frys, omelettes and the like. Now that I'm eating more meat, I find myself looking forward to trying new recipes out and so far I've been rewarded with delicious meals!

Thirdly, I'm not sure I'm spending more money, overall, than I would be if I was eating my normal diet. This is partly b/c I am not eating as much for lack of hunger, and partly because I'm not going to grocery stores and picking up items I don't need. However, I have also made the observation that my 1.25 lbs of ground pork cost me $8.00. Not sure how that compares to conventional meat here in the States, but I made four burgers from that meat, and think $2 for one serving of meat is pretty decent. If I were to guess, I'd say the salad and other ingredients for my burger and meal were approximately $2 , so....$4 for a meal does not seem v. expensive to me.

In a nutshell, I am thoroughly enjoying this new locav-or-ganic experience tremendously. I've previously dubbed it a challenge, but the truth is that it is really a remarkable opportunity - an opportunity for me to try new recipes, to meet the people (and cows) who make it possible for me to eat daily, to try new food and drink, to listen more closely to my body and give it things that make it feel good, to visit unique grocery stores and restaurants, and to become more engaged and connected with every meal I prepare. I'm looking forward to more adventures in local food and am SO glad that I am temporarily living in Vermont, which is far ahead of the the rest of the States and Canada with respect to developing its local food systems!


Below are the before and after pictures of my sustainable & local Holsteinballs meal.

Girl Gone Locav-or-ganic

Well, technically the title of this post should be 'Girl Going Locav-or-ganic', because, despite having spent the past year immersing myself in the scholarly and popular literature concerned with local food and preaching the tenents of 'going local' to anyone that would listen to me, the truth is I have been, by and large, a hypocrite. Here's my story....until now:

Baby Steps
I've spent most of my food dollars over the past year on imported fruits & vegetables and industrialized cuts of meat at the Food Basics that is a five minute walk from my house in Kingston, Ontario. Of course I visited the farmer's market every Saturday and some weekdays too, but the purchases I made there were minimal in comparison to those I made at chain grocery stores. This summer I became a loca-veg-ore, which is to say that I sourced about 95% of my vegetables from the community garden plot I co-tended and a local CSA operation (Vegetables Unplugged) on Wolfe Island, where I worked three hours a week in exchange for a week's worth (often more than one person could eat) of delicious, organically grown vegetables. And I did tend towards vegetarianism during the months of August and September, purely in an effort to minimize wastage from thes two local sources of food, which didn't always have a long shelf life. Still, the fact is that I continued to buy the rest of my food from the store - my bananas, salad dressings, tofu, chicken, rice, quinoa, raisins, etc. And I rarely, if ever, chose the oranic option, party b/c Food Basics doesn't carry the broadest range of food options (i.e. organic was hard to come by) but mostly because I've become disillusioned about industrial organic and find myself almost as skeptical of large organic brands as I am of Wal-Mart's claim that it's going green (green consumerism seems rather oxmoronical to me, but perhaps that's just me).


Which Weigh to Go?
In addition to studying up on local food systems as of late, I've also been reading much more about nutrition for personal interest.

I've decided that there must be something I've been missing in my attempts to slim down in the past, because I definitely, definitely exercise more than the vast majority of people and, for the most part, eat unprocessed, healthy foods in reasonable portions. A visit to a holistic nutritionist in June was the beginning of a wide awakening to the amount of contradictory information that is, literally, being fed to the public . She suggested, as a start, that I eliminate gluten and dairy from my diet, eat organic whenever possible and take supplements (whey protein, greens and fish oil). All of this after she reviewed my current eating diary and told me it was much, much better than the average person's ?! OK, so apparently I've been eating better than most people, but still can't seem to shed the weight

On top of that, every time I read another book or see a film about food, I find myself sickened by the thought of eating 'sick' meat and eggs (sick because the animals that they come from are treated inhumanely from birth until death and injected with endless antibiotics to keep them from dying from the ill treatment and improper diet they are receiving). Then there's the poison-laced fruits and vegetables (hey, if pesticides are meant to kill insects, I'm a bit wary about what they're doing to my internal organs), and the genetically modified grains (e.g. corn, soy), not to mention the highly processed food-like products that are more a product of modern chemistry than of the ancient, mysterious wisdom of Mother nature.

Eyes or No-Eyes? 'Eye' Don't Know :(
To top it all off, I find myself utterly confused as to whether a vegetarian or omnivore diet is better for the planet and for my health. And, within the omnivore diet, is it better to avoid grains and other foods that are, essentially, a product of mankind's relatively recent forays into agriculture. I've come across some pretty convincing arguments that suggest a diet rich in protein, vegetables and fats is far better for the individual than a diet that contains processed grains (i.e. flours,), sugars and is low in fats.

A Locav-or-ganic Emerges

I am not ready to give up meat yet. This is not because I am a meat-lover. In fact, a much greater proportion of my current meals are vegetarian or some variant thereof (not clear on what you call someone who eats eggs a lot...). There are two reasons I'm not ready to give up meat First, I have yet to be convinced that a vegetarian diet is superior or even comparable to an omnivore diet. Recently I interviewed a young farmer/activist who had been a vegan and then started to get involved in local food movements and found himself swayed towards eating meat (locally produced of course). Secondly, I am not so sure that a vegetarian diet (eaten in Canada) is necessarily less harmful to the planet than an omnivore diet that consists of meat raised in natural conditions. Polyface Farms and its owner, Joe Salatin, make a strong argument for the need for livestock as part of a closed system of agriculture.

So, with the decision about meat vs. vegetarianism made, the 'what next' for my diet has become pretty clear: I have to start eating what I preach, I have to 'go local and organic'. I have to make a commitment to ensuring the vast majority of the food I put in my body is produced/raised manner that is sustainable and healthful for all involved - for the planet (land, soil, water, air, biodiversity etc), for the livestock being raised, for the producers/farmers and farm workers, for the local communities where the food is produced, and for the health of those that choose to eat it.

I know myself well enough to know that any sort of purist commitment will be too much to bear when I can't commit the entirety of my energy to this new way of eating, so instead of going 100% local, I am giving myself a couple of caveats.

• Firstly, if (and only if) I can't find something that I am absolutey craving (e.g. a banana for my morning shake) from a local source, I will buy the organic version. That being said, I do intend to let the season dictate my eating choices for the most part, but I suspect I'll have some challenges with breakfast and that's where the organic option will likely be a saving grace.
  
• Secondly, I'll allow myself to use up the existing foods I have, regardless of their source. It should be noted, however, that I've just moved, so have very little food stocked, althogh I did bring about 10 cartons of almond milk with me, as well as a jar of whey protein, bottle of fish oil, bag of pecans and bag of rolled oats.
• Thirdly, I'm still going to use salt, pepper and other spices. Like I said, I'm not a purist
• Finally, if I am served a non-local meal at someone's house or taken to a restaurant where non-local food is the only option, I'm OK with that. When I make a dining out choice, however, it will always be for a local/organic restaurant

So, in summary, I'm planning to go Local or Organic, hence the witty merging of the words Locavore and Organic :)

Lucky for me, I came to this conclusion about my future food diet at around the same time (today, in fact!!!) I landed in Hardwick, Vermont. How is that lucky? Well, it just so happens that Vermont has been cited, by Michael Pollan nonetheless, as being 30 years ahead of the rest of the nation in terms of the development of its local food system. Hardwick, a small village of 3,000 people in the Northeastern Kingdom,is one of two locations I've selected to do my case study research on for my Masters thesis. There is an extremely strong sense of community here (based on my impressions from a 14 hour visit I made earlier this month), plenty of producers in the surrounding countryside, and some great in-town sources of local food that I know I will be frequenting often, including Buffalo Mountain Co-operative (local and organic groceries) and Claire's Cafe (locally sourced, absolutely delicious meals at reasonable prices).

So, without further adieu, I enter a new chapter in my relationship with food. I am hopeful, bordering on confident, that this burgeoning relationship will bring me more enjoyment, energy and positive challenges than any past relationship has. I'll check in on a semi-regular basis with how things are going - the good, the frustrating, and the delicious.

*First local/organic meal consumed while writing this post. 3 egg omelette (eggs purchsed at farmer's market in Bangor, ME, en route to VT), raw milk cheddar cheese (NE Kingdom, VT), spinach (farmer's market, Bangor, ME), organic mushrooms (Pennsylvania), tomato (farmer's market Bangor, ME), carrot (farmer's market, Bangor, ME) and red onion (farmer's market, Bangor, ME)

Food Dichotomies

Everywhere I go now, I find myself faced with food dichotomies - global vs. local, quantity vs. quality, shelf life vs. freshness. I wonder if it's because I'm immersed in researching local food systems, kind of like when you buy a new car and suddenly you seem the same model everywhere. Or maybe it's because there's a movement afoot, maybe, just maybe, people are starting to care more about what they are eating and where it comes from. Two stark food dichotomies I've encountered in the past couple of weeks:

HOME VS. ON THE ROAD

While on PEI, I took pleasure in eating as much seafood as possible and sourcing my produce locally whenever I could. Below is a picture of one of the many meals I enjoyed with my family while on the Island. I prepared the salad, which contains local PEI spinach, feta cheese from NS, raspberries from the U-Pick down the road, pecans from the Bulk Barn, and a blueberry dressing that I made from Tignish blueberries, Rossignol maple wine (from PEI), olive oil and white vinegar. The fish is an Atlantic salmon fillet (more about that in another post, but for now we'll pretend it's relatively local).

Then I had to take a roadtrip. My first sojourn in my newly acquired Toyota Echo. It's been three years since I owned a car and I haven't missed having one, but, ironically, I found myself needing wheels in order to carry out my data collection for my Masters thesis in Environmental Studies. Well, in any event, I had to drive back to Kingston, Ontario from Prince Edward Island, and I was ill prepared foodwise when I hit the road with my driving partner and fabulous friend Jen. We had bananas and cashews, but needed more sustenance for the 16 hour drive. At lunch we stopped for Subway somewhere in northern NB. As fastfood on the road goes, I can handle Subway. At least there's some colour to the meal. Coming on the last leg of the trip, however, we decided we'd better have dinner. The options were not appealing - Mickey D's, KFC, Tim Horton's, DQ. We opted for DQ and I ended up getting a chicken wrap w/o dressing and, for reaons unbeknownst to me, a small fries. Ugh. I can't recall the last time I ate fast food. I abhor it and this time was no different. I don't understand why people eat fastfood on a regular or even semi-regular basis. My meal lacked colour and taste. The best part of it was the ketchup and that's only because I am a ketchup addict.



FARM QUALITY VS. CORPORATE QUALITY

On Thursday, I started my workshare with Vegetables Unplugged. What does that mean? It means that I am working on a farm for three hours a week (one morning) for the next ten weeks. In return, I receive 20 weeks worth of delicious, fresh vegetables from the farm (more about this type of farm model, called Community Supported Agriculture, in another post). Whatever is ripe and has been harvested ends up in my kitchen that week. I loved my first day on the farm - all we did was pick and pack vegetables for three hours at a pretty leisurely pace. Good conversation was had between everyone as we picked, plucked and plonked. As noon approached, Craig, who runs the CSA operation, announced that we should get a bag and pack up our share of veggies. How wonderful to know when the vegetables in my kitchen were picked and by who and furthermore, to know that they use organic practices and are not farming intensively, but are farming smart. Melanie, one of the other farm workers, kindly posed for a picture with all of her vegetables stuffed into a big, reusable bag.

Then, on the ferry ride back to Kingston (the farm is on Wolfe Island, a 20 minute trip from dock to dock) I noticed a huge truck onboard. It was a Sysco truck, proudly announcing its status as a food marketer of quality food. 'Quality Assured Foodservice Products'. What does that even mean?? I'm not even sure I know what a foodservice product is. And who is assuring it's quality? It occurs to me that businesses are much like people - the ones that feel the need to announce themselves as being the best, the brightest, the strongest or the most durable are most likely to be the ones lacking these very qualities. It's the quietly confident ones that go about doing things based on an internal set of values without tooting their own horns that are much more likely to be trustworthy and worthy of your business. And I, for one, am pretty sure that Vegetables Unplugged has Sysco beat by a mile when it comes to being 'quality assured'.