A recent conversation with a friend who is a teacher emphasized something that has been a recurring theme over the past year. In an attempt to get to know his students as they enter class in the new school year, he asks them to write the answers to a few questions about themselves. One of the questions is “How many times a week do you sit down with your family for a meal?” This teacher is fully aware of the research that clearly links family meals with student performance in the classroom, and even wellbeing outside of school.
This conversation prompted me to reprint a column from last year that several people have commented on. With the kids starting a new year at school, now is the ideal time to think about a new start around the dinner table at home.
What simple activity can increase a child’s grades, reduce the likelihood of drug, alcohol, and tobacco use, and decrease the incidence of teen obesity and depression? Eating together as a family.
Several studies have clearly shown these results; one from the University of Minnesota even statistically eliminated all possible variables like income, and even how cohesive the family was, and concluded that it’s actually sitting down as a family at mealtimes that was the primary cause of significant improvements in children’s health and wellbeing… especially among girls.
Not surprisingly, the studies found that adolescents eating regular family meals ate more fruit and vegetables, got more calcium, and drank significantly fewer soft drinks. However, the benefits of sitting down to a family meal extend far beyond these, and include reduction in substance, tobacco, and alcohol use and significantly better academic performance and mental health when compared to those eating fewer family meals. And the benefits increased with each additional family meal per week!
Television is the biggest challenge for family meal time. According to the Canadian Pediatric Association, children at age 15 have spent more time in front of a television than in classrooms. And kids aren’t the only offenders. Meals in front of the TV tend to be reheated frozen snacks that are, simply put, health hazards. Television programming is a very poor substitute for the kind of family communication and bonding that takes place around the dinner table.
Accepting the benefits of family mealtime is one thing, doing something about it is quite another. Adolescents have always been difficult to convince that doing things as a family are “cool” and even beneficial. Add the overwhelming distractions available, from part time jobs to sports to video games to computers to cell phones to television and it’s a really hard sell to convince kids that sitting down to a family meal is a useful or enjoyable activity.
Experts in child and adolescent psychology offer some guidelines, but each family will have to formulate its own set of principles (preferably in conference with the kids) that will guide family mealtimes.
o Turn off the television. Agree also to turn off cell phones and let the household phone pick up and take messages. Importantly, the parents have to take the lead here and set an example.
o This is not a time for discussing serious, controversial, or delicate subjects. The meal conversation should be light, fun, and upbeat and the mood supportive and comfortable.
o Get everyone involved in the meal. Where there’s the interest, involve the family in planning the week’s menus, helping with the shopping, and joining in the food preparation. Clean up should also be shared fairly. Eventually, maybe older kids can take a lead role in preparing dinner (and the parents get clean-up duty).
o To begin with, the family meal does not have to be complicated. Even sitting down together for a take-out pizza or (better) a take out meal from one of Pelham’s excellent caterers like Lorenzo’s Fine Foods, Wild Flower, or Whisk and Ladle, constitutes a family meal so long as everyone sits down and eats together.
o Set a goal. Maybe begin with the commitment to sit down together as a family twice a week and discuss increasing the frequency as you all get used to the idea.
o Use the crock pot or slow cooker. Coming home to the smell of a home-cooked meal is a pretty good way to build enthusiasm for a family dinner.
On a related note, Slow Food Pelham’s annual “family dinner” at Featherstone Winery was a huge success. Forty guests, seated on the winery’s wrap-around verandah, enjoyed slow-roasted Featherstone Vineyard lamb with Featherstone Cabernet Franc, roasted vegetables by Pan Restaurant, delicious salads by Victory Herbs and Farms, and finished off the meal with home-cooked Niagara Peach Delight. It was a gorgeous September evening, shared among friends both new and old.
Showing posts with label Back Issues: 2009. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Back Issues: 2009. Show all posts
Monday, November 30, 2009
September 2009: Slow Food and slow cooking
As September comes to a close, so does trout season. As an avid fly-fisher, I tend to think of the year revolving around the late April opening of trout season and the late September close. Now that the season is ending and the fly tying gear comes out to while away the non-fishing hours, it’s part of the annual cycle to reflect on the year’s fishing. One of the trips I make every year is to Lake Placid, New York with a couple of fly-fishing friends to spend a week fishing the famous Ausable River. And one of the friends who comes on that trip every year is an outstanding cook. Hence the connection to Slow Food.
Peter Sullivan loves to cook and worked for many years in the hospitality and culinary departments at Niagara College. Pete takes over all the cooking chores du
ring the week on the Ausable, and for everyone who attends, the evening meals are always a highlight. Pete is the master of slow cooking. Not necessarily Slow Food as an organization (although I know that he would be in sync with most of the aims and ideals of the movement), but long-simmered, savoury meats that provide delicious comfort on cool autumn nights, or, for that matter, after standing in cold mountain water all day in May. And since we release all the fish we catch, Pete gets to indulge his passion for slow cooking.
Pete’s specialty is Oxtails, and I honestly don’t think I have ever tasted beef that is so rich and delicious. Oxtails have been part of human cuisine for as long as we have been eating meat and didn’t throw anything away when a beast was slaughtered (often after years of toiling in the fields). Originally they really were the tails of oxen, but these days they are cow tails. At one time the tails of beef cattle were almost throw-away items and could be had for next to nothing… not any more. With only one tail per cow, and with a growing number of ethnic cooks who are familiar with them, and cooks like Pete who know how good they are, Oxtails are difficult to come by and far from cheap. They make the best beef stock, wonderful soups, and thick, hearty stews, but all Oxtail recipes depend on taking lots of time to make the tough meat fully tender and to extract the thick gelatin that lies in the marrow and connective tissue of the bones.
Pete is such a confident cook that his recipe for superb Oxtails varies from year to year, depending on what is available and what interests him. But this is a recipe that combines Pete’s ingredients and techniques to produce comfort food par excellence. Serve it with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh bread to soak up the delicious juice.
Pete’s Oxtails
Thoroughly brown about 3 to 4 pounds of Oxtails in hot olive oil, then remove the Oxtails and add 2 or 3 chopped onions, 4 chopped cloves of garlic, and 3 carrots chopped into ½ inch pieces. When they are soft (about 5 minutes), add enough Bovril to cover (about 2 cups) and 2 Tbsp of Grace’s Jerk Sauce. (Alternately, instead of the Bovril and Jerk Sauce, add a large can of tomatoes and a cup of red wine, 1½ teaspoons of ground ginger, salt and pepper to taste, and some cayenne if you like.) Heat to boiling and add the Oxtails. Transfer the pot to a 275 degree oven and cook for 2 to 3 hours. When the meat is falling off the bone, use a slotted spoon to transfer the Oxtails to a dish and skim the fat from the liquid. Serve the Oxtails with the juice on the side to spoon over. Just as good (maybe better) when heated up the next day.
Peter Sullivan loves to cook and worked for many years in the hospitality and culinary departments at Niagara College. Pete takes over all the cooking chores du
ring the week on the Ausable, and for everyone who attends, the evening meals are always a highlight. Pete is the master of slow cooking. Not necessarily Slow Food as an organization (although I know that he would be in sync with most of the aims and ideals of the movement), but long-simmered, savoury meats that provide delicious comfort on cool autumn nights, or, for that matter, after standing in cold mountain water all day in May. And since we release all the fish we catch, Pete gets to indulge his passion for slow cooking.Pete’s specialty is Oxtails, and I honestly don’t think I have ever tasted beef that is so rich and delicious. Oxtails have been part of human cuisine for as long as we have been eating meat and didn’t throw anything away when a beast was slaughtered (often after years of toiling in the fields). Originally they really were the tails of oxen, but these days they are cow tails. At one time the tails of beef cattle were almost throw-away items and could be had for next to nothing… not any more. With only one tail per cow, and with a growing number of ethnic cooks who are familiar with them, and cooks like Pete who know how good they are, Oxtails are difficult to come by and far from cheap. They make the best beef stock, wonderful soups, and thick, hearty stews, but all Oxtail recipes depend on taking lots of time to make the tough meat fully tender and to extract the thick gelatin that lies in the marrow and connective tissue of the bones.
Pete is such a confident cook that his recipe for superb Oxtails varies from year to year, depending on what is available and what interests him. But this is a recipe that combines Pete’s ingredients and techniques to produce comfort food par excellence. Serve it with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh bread to soak up the delicious juice.
Pete’s Oxtails
Thoroughly brown about 3 to 4 pounds of Oxtails in hot olive oil, then remove the Oxtails and add 2 or 3 chopped onions, 4 chopped cloves of garlic, and 3 carrots chopped into ½ inch pieces. When they are soft (about 5 minutes), add enough Bovril to cover (about 2 cups) and 2 Tbsp of Grace’s Jerk Sauce. (Alternately, instead of the Bovril and Jerk Sauce, add a large can of tomatoes and a cup of red wine, 1½ teaspoons of ground ginger, salt and pepper to taste, and some cayenne if you like.) Heat to boiling and add the Oxtails. Transfer the pot to a 275 degree oven and cook for 2 to 3 hours. When the meat is falling off the bone, use a slotted spoon to transfer the Oxtails to a dish and skim the fat from the liquid. Serve the Oxtails with the juice on the side to spoon over. Just as good (maybe better) when heated up the next day.
August 2009: Slow Food Pelham’s year of living well
With August, Slow Food Pelham’s membership is gearing up for our second annual Featherstone Winery Lamb Roast. Every year, Dave Johnson, the winemaker and vineyard manager (and tractor driver, delivery man, floor sweeper, plumber, electrician, construction engineer, maintenance man, and occasional salesman) at Featherstone brings in a flock of lambs to thin the grape leaves on his vines, allowing the sun to fully ripen the grapes. The result is excellent wines from this small Victoria Road winery… and delicious lamb. Slow Food Pelham roasts two of Dave’s lambs on a spit at the winery and serves up a complete meal of lamb and local vegetables, accompanied by the outstanding Cabernet Franc produced at the winery. This is just one of the events that Slow Food Pelham has presented over its short lifespan.
It was only in February of 2008 that Slow Food Pelham introduced itself to the community with an information night at de la Terre bakery in Fonthill, followed by a gourmet dinner with Henry of Pelham wines at Wildflower restaurant in March. In July of last year, the group had a sensory evaluation and tasting activity under the expert guidance of Brock University’s Isabelle Lesschaeve, and followed the late August lamb roast with a visit to Jacobs Apple Farm on the outskirts of Fonthill to understand the problems faced by local producers.
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This year, the group had an introduction to the mystique of cassoulet with a tasting and virtual demonstration in March. That was followed in April with a special presentation for a Seeds of Destiny talk: Slow Food Pelham provided lunch for those in attendance, emphasizing locally grown produce.
June was especially busy, with the Slow Food members enjoying a potluck lunch and comparative tasting of Meritage wines at Alvento Winery in Vineland. Meritage is the name given to red wines blended with Cabernet and Merlot… the traditional wines of Bordeaux. This blind tasting of Niagara’s 2006 vintage was especially interesting because, unknown to the tasters, two of the wines were identical. This serves both as a benchmark of the taster’s skill, and a humbling reminder of the difficulty of definitively evaluating wines. June also saw a Slow Food displa.JPG)
y at Fonthill Library, featuring some of the food-related books that Slow Food Pelham has donated to the library, and a presentation at Pelham Market that featured a taste comparison between California and Niagara strawberries (guess which won unanimously!) Later in the month, the group had an exclusive guided tour of Clos Jordanne winery… a facility normally not open to the public. This tour was just a week after Clos Jordanne’s chardonnay had stunned the wine world by winning a blind tasting in Montreal against all the best chards from both the New World (California and Australia) and Europe.
June peaked with a meal to remember at Fonthill’s ZEST Restaurant. Chef David Watt presented a five course spectacular that highlighted specific local farms and producers, including Lake Erie perch, greens from Pelham Market, Cumbrae Farms beef, and local strawberries… among other delights. Each course was paired with a matching wine from Alvento Winery and introduced by winemaker, Bruno Moos. The forty guests declared the evening a triumph.
It’s been a busy year for Slow Food Pelham and for Renée Giraud who is the leader of the Pelham Convivium and inspiration behind many of the group’s activities. And these are only the public events over the past year. Monthly meetings in members’ homes always feature great food prepared by members according to a monthly theme (from Asian to Spanish to French Canadian), and excellent wine, along with lively conversation in an appropriately “convivial” atmosphere. It doesn’t say anywhere that promoting the virtues of local food, well prepared, and served at leisure in a relaxed setting can’t be fun! For more information or to join, check the Slow Food website or email prima_renee@hotmail.com
It was only in February of 2008 that Slow Food Pelham introduced itself to the community with an information night at de la Terre bakery in Fonthill, followed by a gourmet dinner with Henry of Pelham wines at Wildflower restaurant in March. In July of last year, the group had a sensory evaluation and tasting activity under the expert guidance of Brock University’s Isabelle Lesschaeve, and followed the late August lamb roast with a visit to Jacobs Apple Farm on the outskirts of Fonthill to understand the problems faced by local producers.
.JPG)
This year, the group had an introduction to the mystique of cassoulet with a tasting and virtual demonstration in March. That was followed in April with a special presentation for a Seeds of Destiny talk: Slow Food Pelham provided lunch for those in attendance, emphasizing locally grown produce.
June was especially busy, with the Slow Food members enjoying a potluck lunch and comparative tasting of Meritage wines at Alvento Winery in Vineland. Meritage is the name given to red wines blended with Cabernet and Merlot… the traditional wines of Bordeaux. This blind tasting of Niagara’s 2006 vintage was especially interesting because, unknown to the tasters, two of the wines were identical. This serves both as a benchmark of the taster’s skill, and a humbling reminder of the difficulty of definitively evaluating wines. June also saw a Slow Food displa
.JPG)
y at Fonthill Library, featuring some of the food-related books that Slow Food Pelham has donated to the library, and a presentation at Pelham Market that featured a taste comparison between California and Niagara strawberries (guess which won unanimously!) Later in the month, the group had an exclusive guided tour of Clos Jordanne winery… a facility normally not open to the public. This tour was just a week after Clos Jordanne’s chardonnay had stunned the wine world by winning a blind tasting in Montreal against all the best chards from both the New World (California and Australia) and Europe.
June peaked with a meal to remember at Fonthill’s ZEST Restaurant. Chef David Watt presented a five course spectacular that highlighted specific local farms and producers, including Lake Erie perch, greens from Pelham Market, Cumbrae Farms beef, and local strawberries… among other delights. Each course was paired with a matching wine from Alvento Winery and introduced by winemaker, Bruno Moos. The forty guests declared the evening a triumph.
It’s been a busy year for Slow Food Pelham and for Renée Giraud who is the leader of the Pelham Convivium and inspiration behind many of the group’s activities. And these are only the public events over the past year. Monthly meetings in members’ homes always feature great food prepared by members according to a monthly theme (from Asian to Spanish to French Canadian), and excellent wine, along with lively conversation in an appropriately “convivial” atmosphere. It doesn’t say anywhere that promoting the virtues of local food, well prepared, and served at leisure in a relaxed setting can’t be fun! For more information or to join, check the Slow Food website or email prima_renee@hotmail.com
July 2009: Niagara Culinary Institute, a local gem
Take a group of top chefs from across Canada, including headliners Mark Picone and Michael Olson; add state of the art cooking facilities, including a 200 seat multi-media culinary theatre; combine with the more than 30 years of education excellence provided by Niagara College, and you’ve got the Niagara Culinary Institute. The NCI is an amazing resource for the Niagara Region’s food and tourism industries, and yet it’s barely on the map for most of the people who live here.
The NCI is based at the Niagara on the Lake campus of Niagara College, just off the QEW beside White Oaks Hotel and Spa. It features several food preparation labs where students, under the direction of superb chef professors learn everything culinary from bread making to béchamel, from Black Forest Torte to Bouillabaisse. The showpiece of the NCI is the circular dining room with a wall of windows that looks out over the college’s own vineyards to the Niagara Escarpment. It’s here that diners from across Niagara and around the world can discover the amazing quality and artistry of the food produced by senior students, guided by their professional chef instructors. The dining room is open to the public for lunch Tuesday to Sunday, and dinner Wednesday to Saturday, and features a menu that emphasizes local products and innovative preparation.
Combined with the NCI is Niagara College’s Teaching Winery, the only one of its kind in Canada. Here, the winemakers of the future are trained in a fully operational facility that annually turns out award-winning wines. Graduates of the Oenology and Viticulture program are the winemakers, assistant winemakers, and vineyard managers at many of Niagara’s wineries, and, in fact, of wineries around the world. Every aspect of the winemaking process can be covered on site, since the college has a 20 hectare vineyard where the students learn their art literally from the ground up. The college is currently building a new facility for the winery that will provide not only a modern wine making plant, but a wine education centre. A small brewery is in the plans to begin training students in the art of beer making.
The Niagara Culinary Institute and Niagara College Teaching Winery are two of the many resources we in Niagara can be proud of and use to our advantage. Even if we will never take a full program of study to become chefs or vineyard managers, restaurant administrators or winemakers, we can enjoy the Continuing Education courses offered by the college, using the same facilities and some of the same chef professors as the day programs; offerings this summer range from sushi to baking to Indian cuisine, most of them 3 or 4 hour courses that emphasize hands-on learning. Or we can dine in style at the NCI dining room, an outing that never fails to impress visitors from outside the region. Or, we can enjoy the first class wines produced by the Teaching Winery; there’s a wine boutique featuring all their products just inside the doors to the dining room.
With resources like these at our doorstep, we in Niagara can effortlessly embrace the Slow Food principles of high quality locally produced food enjoyed in a convivial atmosphere.
Here’s a recipe supplied by Niagara College Chef-Professor and Fonthill resident, Bob Demers. Bob says that most of the ingredients can be found at “our cool local market.”
Mediterranean Clubhouse
Yield: enough for 8
1 10 inch round of focaccia bread (we make our own at the College, but you can buy it from one of our local bakeries)
3 large ripe tomatoes, sliced
2 sweet red peppers, roasted, skinned and cut into strips (also can be bought)
2 yellow zucchini
2 green zucchini
2 large cooking onions, sliced thick
1 ½ pounds (680 grams) sliced Black Forest ham
8 ounce (225 grams) grated Swiss cheese
2 ounce (60 ml) olive or vegetable oil
1 jar black olive tapenade spread (store-bought)
Salt and pepper to taste
• Slice the zucchini lengthwise, ¼ inch (6 mm) and brush with the oil, Sprinkle on salt and pepper; grill them until soft, cool
• Pan fry the onions until golden and then cool
• Slice the bread horizontally into three rounds
• Assemble the sandwich by spreading olive paste on bottom piece of bread then layer with half of the ham and vegetables. Add a second round of bread, spread with olive paste and repeat layering. Top with the third round of bread.
• Press the sandwich for 20 minutes with a baking sheet or a platter topped with soup cans. Wrap up in tight in plastic wrap for travelling (picnic).
• Cut into 8 wedges and serve with salad or chips.
• Enjoy.
The NCI is based at the Niagara on the Lake campus of Niagara College, just off the QEW beside White Oaks Hotel and Spa. It features several food preparation labs where students, under the direction of superb chef professors learn everything culinary from bread making to béchamel, from Black Forest Torte to Bouillabaisse. The showpiece of the NCI is the circular dining room with a wall of windows that looks out over the college’s own vineyards to the Niagara Escarpment. It’s here that diners from across Niagara and around the world can discover the amazing quality and artistry of the food produced by senior students, guided by their professional chef instructors. The dining room is open to the public for lunch Tuesday to Sunday, and dinner Wednesday to Saturday, and features a menu that emphasizes local products and innovative preparation.
Combined with the NCI is Niagara College’s Teaching Winery, the only one of its kind in Canada. Here, the winemakers of the future are trained in a fully operational facility that annually turns out award-winning wines. Graduates of the Oenology and Viticulture program are the winemakers, assistant winemakers, and vineyard managers at many of Niagara’s wineries, and, in fact, of wineries around the world. Every aspect of the winemaking process can be covered on site, since the college has a 20 hectare vineyard where the students learn their art literally from the ground up. The college is currently building a new facility for the winery that will provide not only a modern wine making plant, but a wine education centre. A small brewery is in the plans to begin training students in the art of beer making.
The Niagara Culinary Institute and Niagara College Teaching Winery are two of the many resources we in Niagara can be proud of and use to our advantage. Even if we will never take a full program of study to become chefs or vineyard managers, restaurant administrators or winemakers, we can enjoy the Continuing Education courses offered by the college, using the same facilities and some of the same chef professors as the day programs; offerings this summer range from sushi to baking to Indian cuisine, most of them 3 or 4 hour courses that emphasize hands-on learning. Or we can dine in style at the NCI dining room, an outing that never fails to impress visitors from outside the region. Or, we can enjoy the first class wines produced by the Teaching Winery; there’s a wine boutique featuring all their products just inside the doors to the dining room.
With resources like these at our doorstep, we in Niagara can effortlessly embrace the Slow Food principles of high quality locally produced food enjoyed in a convivial atmosphere.
Here’s a recipe supplied by Niagara College Chef-Professor and Fonthill resident, Bob Demers. Bob says that most of the ingredients can be found at “our cool local market.”
Mediterranean Clubhouse
Yield: enough for 8
1 10 inch round of focaccia bread (we make our own at the College, but you can buy it from one of our local bakeries)
3 large ripe tomatoes, sliced
2 sweet red peppers, roasted, skinned and cut into strips (also can be bought)
2 yellow zucchini
2 green zucchini
2 large cooking onions, sliced thick
1 ½ pounds (680 grams) sliced Black Forest ham
8 ounce (225 grams) grated Swiss cheese
2 ounce (60 ml) olive or vegetable oil
1 jar black olive tapenade spread (store-bought)
Salt and pepper to taste
• Slice the zucchini lengthwise, ¼ inch (6 mm) and brush with the oil, Sprinkle on salt and pepper; grill them until soft, cool
• Pan fry the onions until golden and then cool
• Slice the bread horizontally into three rounds
• Assemble the sandwich by spreading olive paste on bottom piece of bread then layer with half of the ham and vegetables. Add a second round of bread, spread with olive paste and repeat layering. Top with the third round of bread.
• Press the sandwich for 20 minutes with a baking sheet or a platter topped with soup cans. Wrap up in tight in plastic wrap for travelling (picnic).
• Cut into 8 wedges and serve with salad or chips.
• Enjoy.
June 2009: “The Good Old Days”
The idea that past times were greatly preferable to today is the best evidence I know for the fallibility of human memory. I have had many a “full and frank discussion” with people who insist that periods of the past (varying from the 40’s through the 80’s) were somehow better times than these. That said, I must admit that where food is concerned there is an argument to be made that in former times we were much closer to the ideals of the Slow Food Movement: good food, locally produced, cooked using traditional recipes, and eaten in a convivial atmosphere with friends and family.
My recent column on bread brought this home to me when my friend, Linda Allison, wrote me a very poetic note about her memories of “the good old days:”
Does this happen any more? Are there still Moms who spend a day every month baking bread for their families and neighbours?
Like Linda, like most people, I have “good old day” memories that involve food. My wife has similar memories to Linda’s, but hers involve her Ukrainian grandmother who summoned the Grabove clan on days when she prepared perogies and cabbage rolls. There always seemed to be someone in the small town neighbourhoods where I grew up who raised chickens in the back yard. My Dad, who was an Anglican minister, was sometimes paid for his services at weddings or funerals with food… and on one memorable occasion, with a recently killed chicken. I still remember him sitting on the front steps of the Rectory, laboriously plucking the bird while white feathers swirled around in the breeze.
The Slow Food Movement is an attempt to bring us back to some extent to those days when we knew where our food came from, knew how it was produced (and, often, who produced it), and took the time to prepare it with traditional recipes, and eat it with family and friends around the table. All that does not mean we would want to give up all the foodie benefits of the 21st century! Back when I was a kid, pizza was about as exotic as food got, and no one had heard of Thai or Vietnamese, Somali or Szechuan, Mexican or Moroccan. How much richer our food experiences are these days, when we can find ingredients in stores and markets, many of them locally grown, that our grandparents were completely ignorant of.
Moroccan Tagine
Brown in oil a kg. of lamb stew or shoulder cut into pieces, then add 3 onions cut into chunks and a handful of raisins, a tablespoon of coriander, a teaspoon of cinnamon, and ½ kilo of dried fruit (apricots or prunes are best). Add enough water to cover and a cup of tomato paste. Cover and simmer for about an hour. Add chopped fresh coriander (cilantro) and a handful of toasted pine nuts or almonds just before serving with couscous.
My recent column on bread brought this home to me when my friend, Linda Allison, wrote me a very poetic note about her memories of “the good old days:”
My Mom would bake bread - white and whole wheat at least once a month. At the end of the day, her counter and kitchen table would be covered with the cooling loaves. I can still see her running a buttered piece of wax paper over the top of each loaf while they were still warm -- must have given them shine or saltiness. She would call me at the school where I worked and say, ‘Drop by for your bread after school.’ She'd hand me a brown and a white, still warm… and I will admit, I would go home, get out the butter and her homemade strawberry jam and eat the loaf for supper. My Dad would cut off a thick slice, fold it in half with a big piece of cheddar cheese inside and walk to his big chair with a smile!!!! Many loaves were dropped off at neighbours' homes and the rest into the freezer for toast every morning.
Does this happen any more? Are there still Moms who spend a day every month baking bread for their families and neighbours?
Like Linda, like most people, I have “good old day” memories that involve food. My wife has similar memories to Linda’s, but hers involve her Ukrainian grandmother who summoned the Grabove clan on days when she prepared perogies and cabbage rolls. There always seemed to be someone in the small town neighbourhoods where I grew up who raised chickens in the back yard. My Dad, who was an Anglican minister, was sometimes paid for his services at weddings or funerals with food… and on one memorable occasion, with a recently killed chicken. I still remember him sitting on the front steps of the Rectory, laboriously plucking the bird while white feathers swirled around in the breeze.
The Slow Food Movement is an attempt to bring us back to some extent to those days when we knew where our food came from, knew how it was produced (and, often, who produced it), and took the time to prepare it with traditional recipes, and eat it with family and friends around the table. All that does not mean we would want to give up all the foodie benefits of the 21st century! Back when I was a kid, pizza was about as exotic as food got, and no one had heard of Thai or Vietnamese, Somali or Szechuan, Mexican or Moroccan. How much richer our food experiences are these days, when we can find ingredients in stores and markets, many of them locally grown, that our grandparents were completely ignorant of.
Moroccan Tagine
Brown in oil a kg. of lamb stew or shoulder cut into pieces, then add 3 onions cut into chunks and a handful of raisins, a tablespoon of coriander, a teaspoon of cinnamon, and ½ kilo of dried fruit (apricots or prunes are best). Add enough water to cover and a cup of tomato paste. Cover and simmer for about an hour. Add chopped fresh coriander (cilantro) and a handful of toasted pine nuts or almonds just before serving with couscous.
May 2009: Wild Leeks
This is the time of year when we can once again begin to find fresh local food in our markets and grocery stores. It’s been a long winter, and as much as we can support our local farmers by buying parsnips and turnips and cabbage and potatoes along with dried and preserved produce from last year’s harvest, it’s great to contemplate the arrival of fresh Ontario greens in May. Some of us will be getting a head start on Ontario’s food bounty this month by harvesting wild leeks.
These delicious plants grow abundantly where they grow at all. They are very soil-specific and there are many environments they don’t like… especially areas where there is human or animal traffic. To find them, you have to go out into the bush and seek moist soil, shaded by hardwood (especially sugar maples), away from trails. They are easy to spot at this time of year, since they form large green patches on the otherwise brown forest floor. You’ll often find them where there are lots of trilliums. I’m lucky to have a patch in the forest behind my house, and I’ve located a number of plots in the Short Hills.
The wild leek (also called wild garlic) is nothing like the domesticated variety of leek; its leaf looks very much like lily-of-the-valley, a bright green spear-shaped leaf with a short, reddish stalk leading to a small bulb. The foolproof way to determine if you’ve found them is to break off a leaf and smell; the garlic-onion odour is strong enough to make them unmistakable.
One word of caution before we go any further: do not take more than a handful from any single patch. Wild leeks take up to four years to propagate themselves from seed and spread very slowly in their patches. They can be transplanted if dug up very carefully and replanted in a suitable place (as already mentioned, they are very choosy about where they will grow), but you have to wait two years to see if the transplant “took” because it takes that long for them to reappear. In some jurisdictions such as Québec, wild leeks are a protected species and harvest is limited to 50 stalks; it would be a shame to see them so decimated here that such regulation became necessary. There are a few stores where you can buy them and at least one online site sells Ontario wild leeks from a sustainable source.
So, what’s all the fuss about once you have found a patch and harvested a few plants? Enthusiasts just wash and eat them for a treat that is somewhere between a green onion and a garlic shoot. Others add them raw to salads or coarsely chop them and sprinkle over new potatoes along with some butter and salt. When they are cooked, they become more mellow and add a delicate flavour to soups or stews. They can be substituted for green onions in just about any dish and provide a bigger flavour hit than the onion.
In the Appalachian states the wild leek, called “ramp” down south, is far more prolific and common than it is here, and festivals are held around harvest time to celebrate the taste. Ramp eating contests, cooking competitions, and ramp specialties in the local restaurants are part of the late April to early May festivities in many towns from southern Pennsylvania to Virginia.
My own favorite preparation is to add a handful of chopped wild leeks at the last minute to potatoes frying in bacon grease. When the potatoes are done and the leeks are softened but not brown, serve them with the bacon and a fried egg or two for a breakfast that will fuel your spring cleaning activity all day.
A final note on these wonderful forest plants: juice from the bulbs was used by natives to treat insect bites… a useful trick since harvesting wild leeks in the bush at this time of year is sure to result in black fly bites!
These delicious plants grow abundantly where they grow at all. They are very soil-specific and there are many environments they don’t like… especially areas where there is human or animal traffic. To find them, you have to go out into the bush and seek moist soil, shaded by hardwood (especially sugar maples), away from trails. They are easy to spot at this time of year, since they form large green patches on the otherwise brown forest floor. You’ll often find them where there are lots of trilliums. I’m lucky to have a patch in the forest behind my house, and I’ve located a number of plots in the Short Hills.
The wild leek (also called wild garlic) is nothing like the domesticated variety of leek; its leaf looks very much like lily-of-the-valley, a bright green spear-shaped leaf with a short, reddish stalk leading to a small bulb. The foolproof way to determine if you’ve found them is to break off a leaf and smell; the garlic-onion odour is strong enough to make them unmistakable.
One word of caution before we go any further: do not take more than a handful from any single patch. Wild leeks take up to four years to propagate themselves from seed and spread very slowly in their patches. They can be transplanted if dug up very carefully and replanted in a suitable place (as already mentioned, they are very choosy about where they will grow), but you have to wait two years to see if the transplant “took” because it takes that long for them to reappear. In some jurisdictions such as Québec, wild leeks are a protected species and harvest is limited to 50 stalks; it would be a shame to see them so decimated here that such regulation became necessary. There are a few stores where you can buy them and at least one online site sells Ontario wild leeks from a sustainable source.
So, what’s all the fuss about once you have found a patch and harvested a few plants? Enthusiasts just wash and eat them for a treat that is somewhere between a green onion and a garlic shoot. Others add them raw to salads or coarsely chop them and sprinkle over new potatoes along with some butter and salt. When they are cooked, they become more mellow and add a delicate flavour to soups or stews. They can be substituted for green onions in just about any dish and provide a bigger flavour hit than the onion.
In the Appalachian states the wild leek, called “ramp” down south, is far more prolific and common than it is here, and festivals are held around harvest time to celebrate the taste. Ramp eating contests, cooking competitions, and ramp specialties in the local restaurants are part of the late April to early May festivities in many towns from southern Pennsylvania to Virginia.
My own favorite preparation is to add a handful of chopped wild leeks at the last minute to potatoes frying in bacon grease. When the potatoes are done and the leeks are softened but not brown, serve them with the bacon and a fried egg or two for a breakfast that will fuel your spring cleaning activity all day.
A final note on these wonderful forest plants: juice from the bulbs was used by natives to treat insect bites… a useful trick since harvesting wild leeks in the bush at this time of year is sure to result in black fly bites!
April 2009: Terra Madre, "Mother Earth"
In January, we had a look at Slow Food International and some of the worldwide programs it has to further the cause of good, healthy, local food, well prepared, and convivially enjoyed. In this column, I’d like to present the words of a young woman, Anne Dzakovik, who attended Terra Madre, the huge Slow Food flagship event in Turin, Italy. Anne is originally from Niagara, now living in Scotland where she is a volunteer with the North Glasgow Community Food Initiative and works for a pilot food waste recycling program in Glasgow. Her mother is Sandra Watson, who is a member of Slow Food Pelham.
Anne writes:
In October, I was lucky enough to join 9000 committed folk from over 150countries at Terra Madre, the third biennial global meeting of food communities from around the world. We spent five days talking, listening, debating, celebrating, dancing, and, of course, eating. We were delegates from all around the world: youths, chefs, activists, peasant growers, fishers, breeders, academics, and artisans.
Terra Madre, which means “mother earth,” is the main event on the calendar of Slow Food International. It consisted of ceremonies, workshops, and meetings that were all designed to bring people together on issues that they are passionate about, ranging from GMOs to the future of bees, and from custodial herding to sustainable restaurants. As well as the more formal collaborations and discussions on these diverse issues, I saw many beautiful and spontaneous collaborations and connections being made all around me, especially at the communal meals.
It was hard to turn around during the five day event without bumping into someone who was working on an amazing project. Over breakfast one morning, I met a friendly Colombian man – Hernando – who works for UNESCO promoting the biodiversity and development of the Amazon region through sustainable usage of the forest’s immense food resources. On one of the daily bus journeys, I sat beside a shy Icelandic biochemist who has a side interest in creating an appealing and accessible local food economy for tourists in rural Iceland. During festivities one evening, I found myself beside a fellow Canadian who is working in Borneo on food security and peace keeping issues. Each day I kept running into a lovely couple originally from South Africa who are living and making cheese at an intentional community in Dumfries, Scotland and who connected me with a soft spoken, white haired crofter – Mr. McBride from Lewis, who specializes in hand woven tweed clothing. The list goes on and on and on.
Terra Madre has been growing each of the three years it has been in existence and this year it expanded to encompass a delegation of 1300 youths who enthusiastically launched the youth food movement during the event. As a youth delegate representing Glasgow, I was overwhelmed by the amount of positive encouragement and energy that was focused on this new offshoot of Slow Food.
Along with trading stories and ideas and getting caught up in youthful energies, I was also completely inspired by the opening and closing ceremonies at Terra Madre. The crowd and the speakers at the Palasport Olimpico stadium were multicultural and mighty colourful in dress and dialect. One of the most memorable speakers was Vandana Shiva, an environmental activist and renowned physicist from India, who spoke powerfully about the often-ignored contributions of agriculture to the climate crisis. Prince Charles and the United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon sent messages highlighting the importance of traditional agricultural methods in finding the solution to a sustainable planet. A pregnant Maori educator wove a beautiful and poetic story of the survival of her people and their land and of our joint role as the earth’s guardians.
My head was swimming after coming home from Italy, reflecting on the kindred spirits I was fortunate enough to be acquainted with and looking ahead to my role as one of the founders of the new and exciting youth group. This is definitely the most rewarding and enjoyable activist work I could imagine being involved in.
Anne writes:
In October, I was lucky enough to join 9000 committed folk from over 150countries at Terra Madre, the third biennial global meeting of food communities from around the world. We spent five days talking, listening, debating, celebrating, dancing, and, of course, eating. We were delegates from all around the world: youths, chefs, activists, peasant growers, fishers, breeders, academics, and artisans.
Terra Madre, which means “mother earth,” is the main event on the calendar of Slow Food International. It consisted of ceremonies, workshops, and meetings that were all designed to bring people together on issues that they are passionate about, ranging from GMOs to the future of bees, and from custodial herding to sustainable restaurants. As well as the more formal collaborations and discussions on these diverse issues, I saw many beautiful and spontaneous collaborations and connections being made all around me, especially at the communal meals.
It was hard to turn around during the five day event without bumping into someone who was working on an amazing project. Over breakfast one morning, I met a friendly Colombian man – Hernando – who works for UNESCO promoting the biodiversity and development of the Amazon region through sustainable usage of the forest’s immense food resources. On one of the daily bus journeys, I sat beside a shy Icelandic biochemist who has a side interest in creating an appealing and accessible local food economy for tourists in rural Iceland. During festivities one evening, I found myself beside a fellow Canadian who is working in Borneo on food security and peace keeping issues. Each day I kept running into a lovely couple originally from South Africa who are living and making cheese at an intentional community in Dumfries, Scotland and who connected me with a soft spoken, white haired crofter – Mr. McBride from Lewis, who specializes in hand woven tweed clothing. The list goes on and on and on.
Terra Madre has been growing each of the three years it has been in existence and this year it expanded to encompass a delegation of 1300 youths who enthusiastically launched the youth food movement during the event. As a youth delegate representing Glasgow, I was overwhelmed by the amount of positive encouragement and energy that was focused on this new offshoot of Slow Food.
Along with trading stories and ideas and getting caught up in youthful energies, I was also completely inspired by the opening and closing ceremonies at Terra Madre. The crowd and the speakers at the Palasport Olimpico stadium were multicultural and mighty colourful in dress and dialect. One of the most memorable speakers was Vandana Shiva, an environmental activist and renowned physicist from India, who spoke powerfully about the often-ignored contributions of agriculture to the climate crisis. Prince Charles and the United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon sent messages highlighting the importance of traditional agricultural methods in finding the solution to a sustainable planet. A pregnant Maori educator wove a beautiful and poetic story of the survival of her people and their land and of our joint role as the earth’s guardians.
My head was swimming after coming home from Italy, reflecting on the kindred spirits I was fortunate enough to be acquainted with and looking ahead to my role as one of the founders of the new and exciting youth group. This is definitely the most rewarding and enjoyable activist work I could imagine being involved in.
March 2009: The Pleasures of Bread
Foodies the world over know very well that bread is both a staple part of every diet, and a delicious pleasure that comes in wondrous variety. Every culture seems to think that its own version of bread is the best and looks with sympathy at those of other cultures who seem unable to produce “proper” bread and must make do with the inferior stuff that their bakers supply. Italo-Canadians have long called their English Canadian cousins “mange-cake” because the awful bread they get sliced and wrapped in plastic at the Supermarket looks and tastes more like some sort of cake than real (Italian) bread. When I was crossing the border from Turkey to Greece a few years ago, the Turkish border guard asked not if I had enjoyed the scenic and cultural wonders of his country, but if I would ever be able to eat other bread again now that I had tasted Turkish loaves.
Like beer, bread is made from a very small list of basic ingredients and has been part of the diet of mankind in one form or another for so long that its origins are lost. It has entered our languages, our religions, our art, and our politics, as well as our cultural identities.
All bread produced in Western cultures was at one time “Sourdough” bread – bread produced from a “starter” of flour, water, yeast, and “lactobacillus” that provided not only the rising power but also the distinctive taste of each regional variety of bread. To make a batch of bread, flour and water were added to the starter, mixed, and allowed to rise; a small portion of the dough was then retained as the starter for the next batch (some starters surviving many generations of family bakers). The remaining dough was worked into loaves and baked. This is the method that all bakers used until the 19th century, when scientists began to better understand the leavening process and developed yeasts that could be started quickly and reliably. These “Baker’s Yeasts” quickly became the standard, especially in North America, and sourdough bread, with its stronger taste and heavier texture became an artisanal specialty, produced by only a few bakers, like Jan Campbell-Luxton of Fonthill’s de la Terre Bakery.
Bread baking at home seems, to some extent, to be a matter of temperament or natural instinct. My mother, a wonderful pasty baker, would occasionally tackle bread, and the resulting loaves were more suited to paving than sandwiches. (By the same token, I know of several talented bakers whose breads are without fail light and flavourful, but whose pastry has the texture of a pizza box.) However, there are many aids for the home bread baker now, from starter kits to videos, dedicated TV channels, and shelves full of baking cookbooks that promise to make the process foolproof. And, if all else fails, most bread machines offer step by step instructions that involve nothing more complicated than dumping ingredients into a pan and pressing the start button; the results are very edible and provide the added bonus of a timer that allows the family to wake up to the smell of freshly baked bread (if you can master the complexities of digital timing devices).
There seems to be a resurgence of interest in home bread baking: a neighbour recently loaned me a DVD of Richard Bertinet, whose book Crust has become a bestseller. The video details his unique kneading technique that produces light and airy loaves and his sourdough recipe for gorgeous, rustic country breads. My own favorites are the old reliable Baking with Julia, Julia Child’s 1996 epic, and the 1984 Fannie Farmer Baking Book. But my shameful secret is that I sometimes use their French bread recipes in the “dough” setting of my bread machine and shape the dough into baguettes to bake in the oven instead of following the long and labour-intensive multiple kneading and rising instructions. I may lose my Slow Food membership over this.
Like beer, bread is made from a very small list of basic ingredients and has been part of the diet of mankind in one form or another for so long that its origins are lost. It has entered our languages, our religions, our art, and our politics, as well as our cultural identities.
All bread produced in Western cultures was at one time “Sourdough” bread – bread produced from a “starter” of flour, water, yeast, and “lactobacillus” that provided not only the rising power but also the distinctive taste of each regional variety of bread. To make a batch of bread, flour and water were added to the starter, mixed, and allowed to rise; a small portion of the dough was then retained as the starter for the next batch (some starters surviving many generations of family bakers). The remaining dough was worked into loaves and baked. This is the method that all bakers used until the 19th century, when scientists began to better understand the leavening process and developed yeasts that could be started quickly and reliably. These “Baker’s Yeasts” quickly became the standard, especially in North America, and sourdough bread, with its stronger taste and heavier texture became an artisanal specialty, produced by only a few bakers, like Jan Campbell-Luxton of Fonthill’s de la Terre Bakery.
Bread baking at home seems, to some extent, to be a matter of temperament or natural instinct. My mother, a wonderful pasty baker, would occasionally tackle bread, and the resulting loaves were more suited to paving than sandwiches. (By the same token, I know of several talented bakers whose breads are without fail light and flavourful, but whose pastry has the texture of a pizza box.) However, there are many aids for the home bread baker now, from starter kits to videos, dedicated TV channels, and shelves full of baking cookbooks that promise to make the process foolproof. And, if all else fails, most bread machines offer step by step instructions that involve nothing more complicated than dumping ingredients into a pan and pressing the start button; the results are very edible and provide the added bonus of a timer that allows the family to wake up to the smell of freshly baked bread (if you can master the complexities of digital timing devices).
There seems to be a resurgence of interest in home bread baking: a neighbour recently loaned me a DVD of Richard Bertinet, whose book Crust has become a bestseller. The video details his unique kneading technique that produces light and airy loaves and his sourdough recipe for gorgeous, rustic country breads. My own favorites are the old reliable Baking with Julia, Julia Child’s 1996 epic, and the 1984 Fannie Farmer Baking Book. But my shameful secret is that I sometimes use their French bread recipes in the “dough” setting of my bread machine and shape the dough into baguettes to bake in the oven instead of following the long and labour-intensive multiple kneading and rising instructions. I may lose my Slow Food membership over this.
February 2009: Comfort Food
In the dead of winter, all northern peoples from the Arctic to the Mediterranean turn to comfort foods to sustain us through the cold, short days until spring. Comfort foods are usually those hearty, savoury, slow-cooked dishes that warm the heart as well as the body, filling the house with delicious odours for hours before it’s actually time to sit down and eat. Every culinary tradition has its comfort food recipes, and most often they are long-cooked dishes using the local ingredients that are available over the winter. Root vegetables, potatoes, onions, beans, pastas, and the most readily available meats, either fresh or preserved, are featured in most comfort foods, no matter what part of the world they come from.
The ultimate comfort food in my opinion (and, believe me, I’ve researched this subject extensively over the past four or five decades!) is not from a wintry nation, but from the relatively moderate region of Languedoc in the south of France: cassoulet.
Cassoulet is a savoury stew of beans and meats and fat that almost certainly developed during one of the many sieges that were inflicted on the towns of the region during the violent upheavals of the Middle Ages. The townsfolk, cut off from supplies, resorted to a communal dish made up of all the things that were left over when fresh food had run out: dried beans, duck confit (duck preserved in its own fat), smoked or dried pork, and lots of garlic. While its true origins are lost in the fog of time, there are three towns that claim to have originated cassoulet and each adds a variation to the dish: Toulouse’s cooks often add tomatoes, Carcassone’s add lamb. However, most historians say that the village of Castelnaudary is the most likely source of the dish, and that town has embraced the culture of cassoulet (the new water tower that dominates the town from its highest point is shaped and coloured like a cassoulet dish complete with gravy dripping over the side!)
After repeated visits to Castelnaudary, I have assembled a recipe that retains the authenticity of the dish, while compromising among the many variations, even among the many recipes from Castelnaudary itself, to create a comfort feast.
By the way, “authenticity” is relative. According to the “Cassoulet Society of Castelnaudary,” to produce a truly authentic cassoulet, you must use water from the wells of Castelnaudary, a cassolo (clay casserole dish) made in the nearby village of Issen, beans from the Lauragais region, and you must cook the dish in the communal bread oven of Castelnaudary, using wood from the slopes of Montagne Noir!
1 kg of lingot or Great Northern beans
700 g pork shoulder cut into chunks
500 g pork rind cut into strips
250 g slab bacon, finely chopped
2 Toulouse sausages (any pork/garlic sausage will do)
6 drumsticks and thighs of duck confit (make your own or buy at specialty butcher)
4 slices of prosciutto cut into thin strips
6 cloves of garlic, minced
1 bottle of dark beer
Soak the beans overnight, drain and rinse, then cover with water (or duck broth if available) and add strips of pork rind, chopped bacon, prosciutto, and garlic. Simmer for two hours. Meanwhile, fry the pieces of confit in their fat, and brown the pork shoulder chunks in the same fat. When the beans are done, remove the pork rind and use it to line a very large casserole. Layer the bean mixture and the meats, along with the duck fat, in the casserole. Use one cup of the beer (drink the rest) to braise the sausages, and add them along with the cooking juices to the casserole. Bake at 300 degrees for 2 to 3 hours, allowing a crust to form and stirring it back in twice. If the cassoulet begins to dry out, add a little more duck fat to moisten. Allow a third crust to form, and serve hot. Makes a very filling meal for 8 to 10.
The ultimate comfort food in my opinion (and, believe me, I’ve researched this subject extensively over the past four or five decades!) is not from a wintry nation, but from the relatively moderate region of Languedoc in the south of France: cassoulet.
Cassoulet is a savoury stew of beans and meats and fat that almost certainly developed during one of the many sieges that were inflicted on the towns of the region during the violent upheavals of the Middle Ages. The townsfolk, cut off from supplies, resorted to a communal dish made up of all the things that were left over when fresh food had run out: dried beans, duck confit (duck preserved in its own fat), smoked or dried pork, and lots of garlic. While its true origins are lost in the fog of time, there are three towns that claim to have originated cassoulet and each adds a variation to the dish: Toulouse’s cooks often add tomatoes, Carcassone’s add lamb. However, most historians say that the village of Castelnaudary is the most likely source of the dish, and that town has embraced the culture of cassoulet (the new water tower that dominates the town from its highest point is shaped and coloured like a cassoulet dish complete with gravy dripping over the side!)
After repeated visits to Castelnaudary, I have assembled a recipe that retains the authenticity of the dish, while compromising among the many variations, even among the many recipes from Castelnaudary itself, to create a comfort feast.
By the way, “authenticity” is relative. According to the “Cassoulet Society of Castelnaudary,” to produce a truly authentic cassoulet, you must use water from the wells of Castelnaudary, a cassolo (clay casserole dish) made in the nearby village of Issen, beans from the Lauragais region, and you must cook the dish in the communal bread oven of Castelnaudary, using wood from the slopes of Montagne Noir!
1 kg of lingot or Great Northern beans
700 g pork shoulder cut into chunks
500 g pork rind cut into strips
250 g slab bacon, finely chopped
2 Toulouse sausages (any pork/garlic sausage will do)
6 drumsticks and thighs of duck confit (make your own or buy at specialty butcher)
4 slices of prosciutto cut into thin strips
6 cloves of garlic, minced
1 bottle of dark beer
Soak the beans overnight, drain and rinse, then cover with water (or duck broth if available) and add strips of pork rind, chopped bacon, prosciutto, and garlic. Simmer for two hours. Meanwhile, fry the pieces of confit in their fat, and brown the pork shoulder chunks in the same fat. When the beans are done, remove the pork rind and use it to line a very large casserole. Layer the bean mixture and the meats, along with the duck fat, in the casserole. Use one cup of the beer (drink the rest) to braise the sausages, and add them along with the cooking juices to the casserole. Bake at 300 degrees for 2 to 3 hours, allowing a crust to form and stirring it back in twice. If the cassoulet begins to dry out, add a little more duck fat to moisten. Allow a third crust to form, and serve hot. Makes a very filling meal for 8 to 10.
January 2009: The Slow Food Movement
When I first heard about the Slow Food Movement, I figured that it was all about cooking things for a long time at low temperatures. Instead of fast-fried burgers and quickly re-heated frozen meals, this organization was suggesting slow-cooked stews and “made from scratch” dishes, I assumed. Others I have talked with make the same assumptions about Slow Food until they get to know more about it. Actually, the Slow Food Movement is about much more than cooking food slowly.
In essence, it is anti-Fast Food… against all the things that Fast Food brings to the table (so to speak): poor quality food from unknown sources with no regard to local agriculture, packaged and pre-prepared, served in plastic environments, consumed quickly, and wasteful of resources and the environment.
Here, then, is a look at the Slow Food Movement and what it is trying to promote.
On its website, (www.slowfood.com) the Slow Food Movement defines itself this way.
“Slow Food is a non-profit, eco-gastronomic member-supported organization that was founded in 1989 to counteract
1) fast food and fast life,
2) the disappearance of local food traditions, and
3) people’s dwindling interest in the food they eat, where it comes from, how it tastes, and how our food choices affect the rest of the world.”
The Movement was founded in 1986 in Italy, and became a non-profit, international organization in 1989. It now has about 100,000 members organized into some 900 local chapters, called “Convivia.” (You can become a member on the website or by contacting the Pelham Convivium at prima_renee@hotmail.com) From its inception, the over-riding idea of Slow Food (even in the selection of its name) was to counter the “Fast Food culture” of mass-produced, uniform, unhealthy food, produced on factory farms with no regard to the environment or the long-term effects of production techniques.
Individual local Convivia are places for Slow Food Members to meet and learn about quality food, local products and producers, traditional foods and recipes, and, most importantly, to enjoy each other’s company and each other’s food preparation. They also organize events for the community at large to promote the ideas of eating locally produced, fresh food, thinking about where our food comes from and who produces it, and celebrating the joys of preparing and eating good, wholesome food.
The Pelham Convivium, for example, presented a lamb roast last August featuring spit-roasted lamb raised at Featherstone Winery, with local produce and desserts prepared by Fonthill’s de la Terre Bakery, and washed down with delicious Featherstone wines. Guests ate at a single long table on the verandah at Featherstone, in an atmosphere that can only be described as “convivial.”
Internationally, the Slow Food Movement sponsors a University of Gastronomic Sciences with two campuses in Italy. Courses are taught in Italian and English and the curriculum “combines humanities and sciences with food technology and culture, the defence of biodiversity, and the protection of food traditions.” The Movement also funds a Foundation for Biodiversity which makes direct financial contributions, mostly to less developed nations, to assist with projects that support biodiversity and preserve local food traditions. The Movement’s most public event is “Terra Madre,” a bi-annual conference that brings together artisanal food producers, farmers, fishermen, cooks, academics, and NGO representatives to meet, discuss issues of common concern, and share their experiences. In 2008, more than 7000 people from 153 countries attended Terra Madre in Turin, drawing over 1000 journalists, and putting the concepts of good, clean, fair, diverse food, produced in a way that is respectful of people and the Earth, front and centre on the world’s stage.
In essence, it is anti-Fast Food… against all the things that Fast Food brings to the table (so to speak): poor quality food from unknown sources with no regard to local agriculture, packaged and pre-prepared, served in plastic environments, consumed quickly, and wasteful of resources and the environment.
Here, then, is a look at the Slow Food Movement and what it is trying to promote.
On its website, (www.slowfood.com) the Slow Food Movement defines itself this way.
“Slow Food is a non-profit, eco-gastronomic member-supported organization that was founded in 1989 to counteract
1) fast food and fast life,
2) the disappearance of local food traditions, and
3) people’s dwindling interest in the food they eat, where it comes from, how it tastes, and how our food choices affect the rest of the world.”
The Movement was founded in 1986 in Italy, and became a non-profit, international organization in 1989. It now has about 100,000 members organized into some 900 local chapters, called “Convivia.” (You can become a member on the website or by contacting the Pelham Convivium at prima_renee@hotmail.com) From its inception, the over-riding idea of Slow Food (even in the selection of its name) was to counter the “Fast Food culture” of mass-produced, uniform, unhealthy food, produced on factory farms with no regard to the environment or the long-term effects of production techniques.
Individual local Convivia are places for Slow Food Members to meet and learn about quality food, local products and producers, traditional foods and recipes, and, most importantly, to enjoy each other’s company and each other’s food preparation. They also organize events for the community at large to promote the ideas of eating locally produced, fresh food, thinking about where our food comes from and who produces it, and celebrating the joys of preparing and eating good, wholesome food.
The Pelham Convivium, for example, presented a lamb roast last August featuring spit-roasted lamb raised at Featherstone Winery, with local produce and desserts prepared by Fonthill’s de la Terre Bakery, and washed down with delicious Featherstone wines. Guests ate at a single long table on the verandah at Featherstone, in an atmosphere that can only be described as “convivial.”
Internationally, the Slow Food Movement sponsors a University of Gastronomic Sciences with two campuses in Italy. Courses are taught in Italian and English and the curriculum “combines humanities and sciences with food technology and culture, the defence of biodiversity, and the protection of food traditions.” The Movement also funds a Foundation for Biodiversity which makes direct financial contributions, mostly to less developed nations, to assist with projects that support biodiversity and preserve local food traditions. The Movement’s most public event is “Terra Madre,” a bi-annual conference that brings together artisanal food producers, farmers, fishermen, cooks, academics, and NGO representatives to meet, discuss issues of common concern, and share their experiences. In 2008, more than 7000 people from 153 countries attended Terra Madre in Turin, drawing over 1000 journalists, and putting the concepts of good, clean, fair, diverse food, produced in a way that is respectful of people and the Earth, front and centre on the world’s stage.
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