A New Year, A Clean Plate

This year I will turn 30. OK, I just had to put that out there. Apparently it's a big deal, the big Three-Oh-No-I'm-Not-Young -Anymore-And-I-Have-Wrinkles-And-People-Aren't-Impressed-By-My-Youthful-Ambition-And-I-Have-Gray-Hairs. Well, you get the idea. I mean, really, when's the last time you met someone who was excited or even mildly looking forward to their thirtieth birthday?

And yet, despite the societal pressures to acquiesce the idealistic adventuress of my twenties, to channel Bridget Jones and hope to heck that Colin Firth shows up to save my single-thirty-something-heart from a destitute road that leads to Cougartown, I simply can't find it in me to get worked up about this new decade that I'll be entering. Although, as a sidenote, if I were being choosy, I might take Hugh Grant over Colin. Oh who am I kidding - any man with an English or Irish accent would do. The fact is, with or without the charming Englishman, I'm actually quite fancying the idea of entering a new decade - on the calendar and in my own life. I have a feeling it's going to be a grand one.

Right, well it seems I sat down to blog with no particular subject in mind, just a jumble of thoughts tumbling around in my head. It's been that kind of a year so far -jumbled, dishevelled, discombobulated. In fact, come to think of it, the last eight months of my life have been pretty unpredictable and unroutine. I have not stayed in one place for more than five or six weeks since I left Kingston last May to visit Canada's West Coast. Since then I've been hopping around the continent, living out of a suitcase for the most part and taking in as many new experiences as possible. It's been a great ride, but coming on the end, as the month of December loomed ahead, with its promises of endless social gatherings and even fewer opportunities to get into a comfortable eating, exercising and sleeping routine, I found myself yearning for some place I could call 'home'. A place where I could slip into a comfortable routine, where I could be productive (after all, I am supposed to be thesis writing now) and also relax. And now, finally, I am in that place. Physically and mentally. I am housesitting until the end of April - a gorgeous house that backs right onto Lake Ontario. The view is stunning. I have the company of two cats and a CD player that has, to date, been churning out a lot of Bob Dylan.

So...that is where I am right now. Settled (relatively, given my track record), fearless in the face of the impending 3-0, possibly because it's still 8 months away ( I will come back to this post when August rolls around if the Dread starts to kick in), and gearing up to churn out a stellar thesis concerning local food systems. With respect to the thesis, from moment to moment I move from being excited about exploring the data and confident I can write something valuable and relevant, to being overwhelmed and certain that any day now the folks at QUeen's will realise I'm an impostor, that I'm not cut out to be a graduate student. Sigh. And I remain highly skilled at procrastinating - yesterday I spent 2.5 hours trying to get the sound on the TV to work (it's plugged into the PC) with no luck (umm...the sound cable is missing...) and today I managed to waste precious hours going into town and talking to every single person I ran into.

OK, now I have the urge to resort to bullet points. This is a clear indication that I am not in my best blogging mindset right now, so please bear with me:

Notable Food Events of Recent Past

• I was fortunate enough to be invited to two Christmas dinners this year - one on Christmas Eve and the other on Christmas Day. I suppose technically I didn't recieve an invitation to Christmas Eve dinner since it was at Mom & Jim's place, where I was free-boarding for the holidays. It was, as usual, a delicious affair with excellent company. I will never again be the youngest person at Christmas Eve dinner now though - little niece Adahra has taken over that title! Things seemed especially calm in the kitchen this year - a point I raised with Mom - she nodded her head and said 'that's because I planned in advance this year'. Which, sadly, meant she didn't need my turkey carving skills. So I sat in the livingroom and got grilled by Jane about my romantic life - some things never change! On Christmas Day I headed over to Sahra & Rowan's house in North Granville. They had invited all immediate family members over for dinner and I was there to assist with baby-holding and making the brussel sprouts edible. I faired well on both accounts I think, but the huge kudos have to go to my sister who managed to pull off a delicious ham dinner with all the trimmings without any hiccups while also being on 'boob-duty' with Adahra. Mighty impressive.

• Somehow I found myself in Vermont on New Year's Eve - a slightly abridged version of my original plan, which was to spend NYE on PEI and then head Kingston with a quick stopover in Vermont. Due to winterstorm predictions, I hightailed it out of PEI earlier then expected, which resulted in a lengthier stayover in Vermont. YAY! I ended up at a NYE gathering with people who clearly enjoyed eating. A bag of oysters was retrieved and one guy took on shucking duuties (after dutifully taking his wife's advice to wear an apron since he had a new sweater on!). I ended up eating my first raw oyster ever. Odd, given that I'm from PEI, which is home to the famed Malpeque oyster, but really, that's not enough reason to partake in eating slippery, slimy raw food. Anyways, the oytser was 'OK' but I'd rather leave them to the people who appear to have a 'special' connection with the oyster-eating experience. While in Vermont I also had a chance to revisit Claire's, Hardwick's locally-focussed restaurant. It was, yet again, delicious and we all left stuffed and with take-away boxes. By Sunday evening, Burlington, Vermont had seen 32 inches of snow fall in the past 48 hours. It was a light, fluffy snow, perfect for walking to Joe & Maura's abode for some lovely company, conversation and, of course, food and wine. Again, I was taken by the hospitality of this lovely couple and ecstatic (not an exagerration) to find that Maura had prepared a tourtiere (meat pie) for dinner, not to mention a tasty clam chowder. It's a good thing I don't 'do' New Year's resolutions or I'd have already broken any food-related ones I might have made. Goals, on the other hand, are much more manageable. They give you room to breathe and eat, while still providing direction and a timeline (note that I am very aware of how blatant this segue is....)
  

Some of My Food-Related Goals (bah to Resolutions) For 2010

• Be a Locav-or-ganic as often as possible.
• Eat healthily and in reasonable proportions
• Minimize intake of all refined sugars (e.g. HFCS, fructose, sucrose, etc.)
• Learn how to can & preserve food
• Get down and dirty - work on a farm or grow a garden.
• Blog regularly on All Shanadian
• Find ways to become actively involved in promotion/education/development of local food movement
  

Upcoming Food Posts*

• Hardwick - I've yet to blog specifically about the places and people of Hardwick for reasons that I hope will become clearer once I finally do post a blog about this very special community.
• The Politics of Food - Oh dear. I've been avoiding this topic like the plague. I don't want to acknowledge just how political the subject of food can be. There are a lot of angles from which one can consider the politics of food. It will be interesting to see where I go with it.
• The Cost of Going Local - Must give credit to Tarek for this suggestion. We'll look at how much it costs to eat locally for one week, versus how much it costs to eat conventionally. Of course I won't be able to resist at looking at the hidden costs of eating conventionally....lalalal
• How Did I Get Here? Seriously. I need to figure out how it is that I find myself interviewing farmers and getting giddy at the thought of drinking raw milk.... this definitely wasn't something I'd envisioned myself being passionate about and yet, here I am, totally enamoured with food and agriculture and the idea of 'local'

*pls don't hold me to these, some are in draft form but others are just thoughts in my head at the moment and may never come to fruition


And that is all I have in me tonight. Bon appetit!

My Christmas 2009 Letter

I posted this Christmas letter to many wonderful friends - old and new - whose addresses I was able to procure. Alas, I wasn't able to send a hard copy to everyone I wanted. So here's the electronic version. I've been tempted to edit it as I didn't do so after writing the letter (it took 10 hours...5.5 of which were writer's block), but have fought the urge..so an unedited version!

CHRISTMAS 2009

I have to admit, when I sat down to write this Christmas letter (or is it a novel?), I found myself struggling with what to say. In fact, this is my sixth (and final) attempt. What could I write that I’d not said in previous Christmas letters? How could I avoid the ‘Year in Review’ format, while still giving you a glimpse of the transformative experiences I’ve be fortunate enough to have? And what if you expected me to be funny? How could I pull that off in the context of Christmas without resorting to self-depreciating tales of baking blunders or tree-hunting gone awry? What I really wished was that I could just give you a really, really big, long, warm hug and say ‘thank-you’ for being a part of the mosaic that is my life. In the absence of that, I wanted to give you words that could wrap themselves around you and give you reason to smile. But what kind of words could do that? I was at a loss and after much time spent thinking about what I could say, I decided I could not neglect lunch any longer. One cannot, after all, write on an empty stomach. And as I was making myself an omelet, it became clear that the only way forward with this letter was to invite you to dinner and offer you an ‘A La Carte’ menu of sorts. So please, have a seat, break the bread, pour yourself a glass of wine and enjoy the meal.

A Teaser

This past year I’ve been consumed by all things food related, given that it’s the self-selected subject of my graduate research. Really, the love affair with food has been going on for many, many years but it’s only recently that I’ve gone from being smitten with food, to gaining a true appreciation for just how pervasive and important it is to every facet of our lives. At the beginning of the year I was under the rather naïve impression that my research of local food systems and sustainable agriculture would, at most, give me the knowledge and insight necessary to write a stellar thesis on the subject, or possibly, test my sanity. I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be going on any life-changing adventures to foreign countries in the upcoming year. Instead I’d be interviewing food folks and trawling my way through academic literature. Sure, this educational pursuit seemed worthwhile on some levels, but I doubted it would offer anything especially valuable to the evolution of my perspective of the world, or insight into myself. I mean, come on, it’s graduate school. Enough said. Ah, but now, as the year comes to a close and I reflect on what the past twelve months has brought by way of unique experiences, lasting memories and gifts of insight, it is clear that my forays into ‘all things food’ have done much more than merely feed my hunger for knowledge.

Appertif #1 –Plant Seeds, So That You Can Grow

Until this summer, I’d never gardened, an admission I make with embarrassment given that I am such an advocate of eating locally. If pressed as to why I’d not taken it up in the past ten years I’d cite lack of permanency as the main reason – I mean, really, how easy is it grow a garden when you’re living smack in the middle of downtown Sydney or in an third story apartment in Edinburgh? But the truth is, I’m just not very patient. And as I learned from my mother, gardens take patience … and a lot of weeding. Neither of which really spoke to my strengths. And then this spring I learned that there was a community garden within one block of my house. How could I not garden? I thought, ignoring the fact that I was planning to traipse around the country for the all important planting and weeding months (i.e. May thru July). So I found a gardening partner who also had no vegetable gardening experience. We decided that, given our lack of gardening knowledge, the only thing that made sense was an experiment. And so the Great Tomato Experiment began in earnest. We planted about 24 commercial variety seedlings, as well as three varieties of heirloom cherry tomatoes. I got intermittent updates as to how well our ‘kids’ were doing while I was on the West and East coasts. By the time I came back to Kingston in mid-August, the tomato plants were burgeoning with red fruits. I picked and picked, ands still could not keep up with the supply of deliciousness streaming from our little garden plot. I started giving tomatoes to friends, and searched for recipes that called for ‘many tomatoes’. I had many people predict I would OD on tomatoes, but this was not the case. Instead, as winter falls upon us northerly folk, I find myself going through withdrawal. I cannot eat grocery store tomatoes any more. I’ve been spoiled by the taste of a real tomato. The only reprieve I can see in sight is the next growing season. I’ll be plowing and planting again, no doubt. As it turns out, the rewards of growing something from seed and tasting real food far outweigh any tests on my patience.

At the same time, I also started harvesting at another garden – a CSA to be precise. I’d signed up to do a ‘workshare’ at a Community Supported Agriculture farm on Wolfe Island. So in exchange for three hours of work per week, I would receive a small share of the farm’s harvest every week. On Thursdays I’d take the ferry to Wolfe Island, bike fifteen minutes to Vegetables Unplugged and start picking whatever vegetables were written on the chalkboard that day. It was not, as I’d expected, hard or boring work - quite the contrary in fact. I enjoyed searching out, picking, and bundling up the vast array of garden vegetables and conversing with the other harvesters. Mostly, though, I looked forward to the inevitable quiet that would descend on the day even as the bright sun ascended into the skies, and the chance to contemplate life or something less esoteric, like what to make for dinner that night, without the mighty distractions that I’ve invited into my daily life. It seemed to be an escape of sorts, although in retrospect, I think I’d call it a return to something innately familiar and comforting.


Appertif #2 - Eat Together So That You May Sow the Seeds of Friendship

The Amish, as I discovered while visiting Pennsylvania, know how to entertain a crowd. Into their modest farmhouse, one Amish family found a way to squeeze 40 adults (academics and students who were attending a food conference) around a very, very long table (their walls are collapsible, so that they can hold church services in the home). I was lucky to count myself amongst their guests. We were served platter after platter of the most delectable dishes – the best mashed potatoes ever, a roast so tender it almost felt wrong to swallow, and apple pie that …but I digress. The best part of the meal came after dessert. That’s when the Amish father/husband passed around music sheets and told us that we’d be singing together - Amazing Grace. So we did. And then he told us that when they get together with new people over dinner, it is tradition for everyone to introduce himself/herself and share a little bit about their family and where they were from and what they did for a living. I was sure he must be kidding – he didn’t really expect all forty of us to share this information – surely that would take forever?? But then we started and it took awhile, but that didn’t matter in the end. What’s time matter when you’re sitting at a table full of strangers who are giving you a glimpse into their lives? I daresay we’d do well to take our lead from the Amish when it comes to eating dinner: eat well, eat with others, sing songs together and if you find yourself amidst strangers recognize that they are just friends waiting to be made.

My Amish meal was not the first or last memorable meal I’ve shared with friends, new or old, this year. The cold, dark winter months in Kingston were bearable only because there were endless potluck get-togethers staggered throughout January, February and March. I didn’t really need to be reminded that I am fortunate to have such a wonderful group of friends in my new, albeit probably temporary, home of Kingston, but the potlucks sealed the deal and, quite possibly, contributed to my decision coming into spring that I needed to train for a half-marathon. Spring and summer was a blur of eating experiences - from being taken to a fantastic Italian cooking class in Vancouver by my wonderful friend, Andrew, to celebrating Memorial Day with a classic BBQ in Pittsburgh with Emily and her family, to toasting my friend Schemida and her husband at their wedding in Halifax, to many welcome home and farewell dinners at various pubs and restaurants in PEI. A big table filled with plates of food and pints of beer is, without fail, the best venue at which to catch up with old friends, celebrate milestones, and shape new memories.

Entree - A Community

Unexpectedly, adventure showed up at my door this fall when I ventured south of the border to a wee state known as Vermont, where I was to spend a month doing data collection on the much-talked-about local food system developing in one of their many blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sized towns called Hardwick. I was intent on completely immersing myself in the local food scene during my short stint in Vermont, so I decided upon arriving that I would not shop at any chain grocery stores, and would endeavor to eat only foods that had been grown/processed locally or, at the very least, organically. I also vowed to sample the local restaurant cuisines, indulge in some of the state’s brews and wines, and attend as many food-related events as possible. All of this, of course, in addition to carrying out interviews with all sorts of folks involved in local food development – from agro-entrepreneurs, to government workers, to retailers, to farmers (my favorite group of interviewees in the end).

The weeks flew by as I ate my way from one event to the next, making friends out of strangers across tables filled with lamb dishes of every conceivable kind, rolling out pie crusts in a commercial kitchen so that food pantries would be stocked with pumpkin pies come the holidays, shopping the aisles of Buffalo Mountain Co-op, taking part in the weekly community lunch held in Hardwick, rustling up dinners from local meats and root vegetables, chatting with farmers and foodies, and celebrating my first, but hopefully not last, American Thanksgiving. And somehow, by the end of my stay in Hardwick, I knew that this sliver of time had changed something inside me and would, very likely, shift everything in time.

It’s funny, we’re often led to believe that the pivotal moments in life are the ones Hallmark has cards for, or the ones we’ve been dreaming about for years and years. But the truth is, far more often, your perspective or your life’s direction shifts quietly, bit by bit, being gently pushed or pulled by small, seemingly innocuous encounters and experiences that, individually, amount to nothing more than an anecdote to share on one’s blog or a memory to be tapped when you’re craving some nostalgia down the road. Collectively, however, they might just have the power to shift your thoughts, your actions, even your life’s compass. But you probably won’t realize it’s happening as it is, and when you finally do get time to breathe, when you return to the familiarity of ‘home’, and discover you are not the same as when you left, you’ll have to make a choice to either nurture these delicate new feelings and thoughts that have found their way into your head and heart, or let them wither out before they’ve had a chance to grow lasting roots.

A Digestif
I know, I know. You are feeling STUFFED by now right? Hopefully not over-stuffed, but one more bite would send you over the top to be sure. So, I’m going to hold off on dessert, but would like to offer you a digestif - something to finish off this meal of rather epic wordiness and I do hope you’ll indulge.

Plant a Garden. Feed Old Friendships. Pour Pints. Try New Dishes. Sing Together. Share Food With Strangers. Watch Yourself Grow. Eat With Others. Celebrate at Dinner Tables. Experiment with the Recipe. And Be Open to Changing the Menu.

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

And that, my friends, marks the close of this meal.

I do hope you find yourself giving and receiving food, warmth and, of course, love, in all the days that are still to come.

Oh, and please remember to thank those that make it possible for us to enjoy food every day including the cook(s), the bakers, the gardeners and, of course, the farmers.

May the spirit of Christmas rest in your heart throughout the year,
Shannon

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.