The Big Story of the Little Seed

Much to my chagrin I went out to check the garden on Monday morning to find that a killing frost had taken out all my delicate vegetables, the jalapenos and Thai basil, the nasturtiums and heirloom tomatoes.


All is not lost, because from the few tomatoes clinging to the now pathetically drooping vines, I will collect and save the precious seeds to start indoors next spring. Saving seeds from tomatoes is a process, very different from waiting for a bean to grow to bursting, its seeds to dry, and simply popping open the pod. It is a tad labour intensive, but like all labours of love, well worth the effort.

This Thursday as part of World Food Day, Hart House at the University of Toronto presents a lecture by the wonderful Vandana Shiva. Shiva is an internationally acclaimed author, ecologist, physicist, and food activist. Among her numerous affiliations and accomplishments, she founded Navdanya, a network of organic growers and seed keepers spread across 16 states in India. Shiva was raised and educated in India as well as Canada, and just happened to earn her degree in Philosophy of Science and the University of Guelph, but back to Navdanya. This organization has been instrumental in promoting organic agriculture across India as well as teaching the importance of biodiversity, and the role of seed keeping, in worldwide sustainability. A tiny seed is a powerful David & Goliath metaphor for the influence it has to shape the future of global food systems. On a smaller, yet equally important scale, saving seeds means that heirloom varieties, which have survived not by genetic modification but because savvy farmers were wise to their strengths and kept them going by saving their seeds, will continue to survive.

On a personal level, saving seed also saves me money. One tiny White Currant tomato holds upwards of 40 seeds. I will lose some, but even if one-fourth germinate and mature, 10 plants will be enough for me to grow what I need and share the rest with others. And that is one tomato from one plant variety of the dozen or so I grew this year. When all is said and done, I may even be selling heirloom tomato plants at the end of my driveway come June.

The best way to achieve success in your own urban "farm" is to practice biodiversity. The allow the natural ecology of your garden flourish is to operate in a closed loop of sustainability. Rotating legume crops with vegetative plants (like my heirloom tomatoes) feed nitrogen to the soil, which in turn will feed the next crop, whose waste will feed my chickens who will fertilize my soil with their droppings, where I will plant again, and the loop is closed. No chemical fertilizers or pesticides needed.

This year in my small but productive 150 sq.ft garden, no fewer than 40 different vegetables grew. We enjoyed organic, chemical free produce daily from this wide variety of fruit, vegetables, herbs, and edible flowers. We simply ate better, and when we eat better, we live better.

The Caretakers

KAScott_20091006_8497b
Originally uploaded by Ken Scott

One of the reasons why I love food so much is not only its inherent beauty, and how something so simple can be powerfully soul-lifting, but the way it is the one common denominator that can bring so many different people together. I can't think of anything that illustrates this better than when we have an opportunity to come face to face with the people who grow our food. They are the stewards of the land, our caretakers, our farmers. Talking with farmers, learning more about their craft, and hearing their stories is the only way to truly grasp what it takes to produce the beautiful food we enjoy every day.

For all the talk of local food, organic farming, terrior, and the near fever-pitch fashionability of embracing such things these days, our farmers have been quietly living and growing this way for hundreds of years. They are the front line soldiers in the war against mass-produced goods parading around disguised as food, genetically modified fruit and vegetable Frankensteins that may look like the real thing on the outside, but don't even come close to the art our organic farmers produce day in and day out.

The only way we can ever hope to embrace and appreciate food for what it is meant to be is to receive it directly from the soil-honed, hard-working hands of our farmers. They are all around us, when we pick up our CSA, visit the Farmers' markets, when we pick from their fields and orchards. If we are lucky enough to have this opportunity, to connect with the very person who grew the food we will be eating, then we should. Say hello, ask questions, and say thank you. Where our food systems go from here is entirely dependent on the relationship we, as individuals, have with our food, and the people who grow it.

If your heart is healthy, you are energetic and strong, and you close your eyes in bliss everytime you feast on organically grown earthy delights, you owe it to your local farmer, and all those who work our farms.

For everything good in our lives, there is someone who needs to be thanked. It may have been a while since we thought about what it actually takes for a small farm to produce food, through the hardships of weather and disease, and the unrelenting competition from factory farms who can do it bigger, cheaper, and faster. It's up to us to make sure we never lose the gift of the small, organic farm, and those who work it. Thank you, for all you do.

The Mighty Concord

Grapes
Originally uploaded by peterkelly

While watery and tasteless red and green seedless grapes seem to be the most reached-for varities, somewhere along the way we seem to have forgotten the quaint little Concord. Once upon a time, no kitchen garden would have been complete without a vine or two clinging to the house or a makeshift trellis. But over the years they somehow fell out of favour, along with growing grapes in general.

And what a shame. With a deep, sensual flavour and unparalleled colour, the Concord slips as easily into a pie as it does into ubiquitous jam. Ignore the seeds (no matter what your mother told you, if you swallow a few you will NOT grow a grape vine in your stomach) and the Concord's tart skin and succulent interior makes it a great eating grape too.

Even if you have never tried Concords in anything but commercial grape juice, if you happen upon a basket or two of these beauties at the farmers market (they should just be wrapping up now) don't pass them by. Make one batch into jam-an easier or more satisfying project there cannot be-or go all pioneer and slip some into a bit of flaky pastry, and serve it up with some vanilla ice cream. Your purple-stained lips will thank you.

Concord Grape Pie

Prepare a batch of sweet pastry for a double crust pie. Slip the skins off 2 cups of Concord grapes, and set the skins aside in a large bowl. Put the "middles" into a saucepan and cook over medium low heat for 10 minutes. Sieve out the seeds, and add the sieved pulp  to the skins in the bowl.  Now add 3/4 cup raw organic sugar, and 3 tbsp. organic all purpose flour. Roll out your pastry and use it to line a 9 inch pie plate. Turn your grape mixture into the crust, then top with a second crust. Cut vents into the top, then brush with a beaten free range egg mixed with a tsp. of fresh organic cream. Give the whole thing a sprinkle of raw sugar. Bake for 10 minutes in a 450F oven, then drop the temperature to 350F and bake 30 minutes longer. Cool to room temperature before serving with vanilla ice cream (I highly Mapleton'sOrganic Vanilla).

http://www.mapletonsorganic.ca/

Vegetables vs. Vegetation: The Argument For Vegetable Gardening

Recently I was chatting with a friend about our vegetable gardens.  While we enjoyed some heirloom tomatoes on toast, he stated  his opinion that anyone who owns their own property should be made to grow food on it.  I thought this was an interesting viewpoint, so I checked the by-laws in our city, and discovered that there are rules in place which govern everything from keeping your grass a reasonable length to removing noxious weeds and adhering to maximum plant heights. So, grass, and the appearance of a tidy property are policed by the city. How difficult would it be to put in place the "10% law", which states that 10% of your urban property must be designated for growing food?

In case you need any further evidence as to why growing a vegetable garden is beneficial to you and everyone around you, consider this:

-A properly maintained 15x20 foot garden can provide up to 300 lbs of produce in a growing season. This contrasted with an inefficient, resource-sucking  lawn that wastes human energy and produces nothing;

-Growing your own food provides healthier alternatives to carcinogen-sprayed, factory-farmed food that travels hundreds and even thousands of miles to reach its destination. More food readily available at home means less trips to the store, less pollution, and less dependency on our cars and fossil fuels;

-Like buying from a farmers market or local CSA, the act of vegetable gardening reinforces the connection between us and where our food comes from. We take ownership over food we grow ourselves, resulting in less waste and greater responsibility for using food wisely;

-Gardens provide natural habitats for wildlife, insects, and valuable organisms;

-We will be setting an example to those around us. Conversations will be initiated.   Relationships will be forged.    Food, seeds, and plants will be shared and traded. Instead of simply complaining about the state of our food system, we will be doing something to change it that is visible and tangible;

-Growing food teaches our children valuable lessons, not just about gardening, but about real food vs factory-farmed food, about taking responsibility for something, about patience, ecology, biology, and weather, about seeing a project through from start-to-finish, and about the balance between giving (work) and receiving (baskets of produce at the end of the season)  And make no mistake-children who grow vegetables eat vegetables;

-We benefit from the physical activity, as do our children. Sowing, cultivating, weeding, and harvesting is meaningful and useful work, fulfilling a basic human need and providing something concrete and essential. Growing food is work we can share with friends, our kids, our partners and spouses, while enjoying meals we have grown and made together;

-We will be utilizing a very large amount of usuable growing land in order to produce food. In a world where our resources are quickly becoming exhausted to meet the needs of a growing population, tapping into these available land stores in our cities would help alleviate this on a local level;

-Most people who use food banks are single mothers, their children, and the elderly.
We would be providing fresh, organic, and healthy produce to those in our community who need it most, supplanting a daily diet of canned fish and boxed macaroni. Those in small households or who live alone could donate their crops to a local "Urban Market" food bank. Nothing would be wasted.

-And, above all this, there are subtle, trickle down effects of growing our own food.  More variety in our diets, the resurrection of endangered and rare heirloom plant varieties,  renewed interest in cooking, freezing, and preserving; a resurgence of interest in the meal itself and the sense of family and community it promotes, and providing inspiration and support for other grassroots food movements.

Do we really need something with so many obvious benefits to be legislated?

Sometimes a simple act like inviting a friend over to see your garden can provide the inspiration they need to start their own. Less lawn and more fresh food we have grown ourselves is a goal we can all acheive!

The Taste of Dirt

Fresh Carrots
Originally uploaded by DSR 22

Today I spent the morning at the wonderful Guelph Farmers Market. I barely knew where to start. Despite the cool wet weather all the experienced and talented farmers seemed to have no problem producing some of the most beautiful produce I have seen in a long time. Having a garden myself, it really makes you respect the farmers who grow our food, who can overcome adverse weather conditions and still seem to get it right.

I came home with organic corn, Gingergold apples, tiny organic red skinned potatoes, Shepherd peppers, broccoli, cauliflower and yellow beans.

I then raided my own garden, and harvested some kale, beets, and carrots. I washed off a Nantes Red carrot in the rain barrel to munch on right there in the garden, when something occurred to me. No matter how much you wash a carrot that comes right out of the garden, it still tastes like dirt. In fact, that flavour of a vegetable that just came out of the earth is something I take for granted. I wonder how many people have the opportunity to enjoy the pleasure of something that has been picked moments ago?

Everyone should know what it is like to taste dirt!

The F-word

Ok, I'll just say it. Flexitarian.

In 2003 the American Dialect Society named it the year's most useful word. Of course it fills the need for a label, when everything and everyone these days seems to feel they need one. Unfortunately the definitions of what constitutes a Flexitarian are so willy nilly and lacking that no one is really able to apply the term correctly. A little trolling of the internet provided some insight:

"Flexitarianism is a semi-vegetarian diet focusing on vegetarian food with occasional meat consumption. A self-described flexitarian seeks to decrease meat consumption without eliminating it entirely from his or her diet. There are no guidelines for how much or how little meat one must eat before being classified a flexitarian." -courtesy of Wikipedia.org

Seems straightforward enough. But wait, there's more. This is an excerpt from an article entitled "Meet the Flexitarians" found on msnbc:'

Even after five years, Christy Pugh has no trouble sticking to her vegetarian regimen. The secret to her success? Eating meat.“Sometimes I feel like I’m a bad vegetarian, that I’m not strict enough or good enough,” the 28-year-old bookkeeper from Concord said recently. “I really like vegetarian food but I’m just not 100 percent committed. “There’s (sic) so many reasons that people are vegetarians ... I find that nobody ever gives me a hard time when I say I usually eat vegetarian. But I really like sausage,” Pugh said.'

Hold the phone there Christy. If you eat sausage, you are not a vegetarian. Not even a bad one.

So, a Flexitarian is someone who eats meat some of the time. Or maybe they are meat-eating vegetarians, as stated in the msnbc article http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4541605/

Meat-eating vegetarians? What the...?

And what do vegetarians and vegans think of the f-word? Here a little sampling:

-It takes all of my self control not to scream when I hear "flexitarian".
-Damn, this makes me angry. It's this kind of crap that makes people like my grandmother ask whether I eat chicken or fish.
-I have a name for these people: Flaketarians.

Ouch.

Thankfully it's not all an us-vs-them foodfight out there. Ian MacKenzie, a writer, producer, and pop-culture blogger based in Vancouver, wrote an excellent piece called "In Defense of Flexitarianism" which is accompanied by some very well thought out comments by readers on both sides of the argument. In it he included a brief and very reasonable manifesto for responsible eating that falls very much in line with the writings of Michael Pollan, and aligns with what many who call themselves Flexitarians believe about eating.

But labels and insults aside, I do believe that if one chooses to use the word to describe themselves, they should be able to eloquently and confidently describe what their own philosophy is and reduce the risk of a perfectly decent and applicable phrase being eye-rolled because someone said something ridiculous like, "I'm a Flexitarian. A meat-eating vegetarian." If you eat meat (chicken, only chicken breasts, shellfish, tilapia, worms, escargot, foie gras, goats, beetles...you get the idea) then you are not a vegetarian, plain and simple.

Anytime someone makes a choice to reduce or eliminate meat, especially factory-farmed cows, pigs, fish, birds, eggs, and dairy from their diet, they are making a positive step in the right direction. I am of the opinion that flexitarianism is only a viable option if you are not ethically opposed to the killing of animals for food, but are trying to make more responsible choices about where your meat comes from. Like vegetarianism or veganism, the ethical issues surrounding meat consumption also happen to be better choices environmentally and health-wise as well.

You cannot be a flexitarian and eat factory farmed meat, in my opinion. Call yourself a meat-eater and then go rent Food Inc. A true Flexitarian should have a well-developed sense that what they are eating is sound for animals, themselves, and the planet. Eating this way is better for everyone, no matter what you choose to label it.

En Papillote

The French are soooo smart.

Tonight I was feeling a little Collette-ish and so I gave a vaguely Latin recipe the French treatment. Cooking en papillote (or "in parchment") is one of my favourite cooking methods, ever. It cooks food quickly. It cooks food perfectly. There are no dishes to wash. I could go on, but what for?

I took a rectangle of parchment paper, and off to one side, mounded 1/4 cup of organic barley couscous (far superior in flavour to semolina couscous, IMHO) mixed with 1/4 cup water and a pinch of salt. Atop this I perched (no pun intended) an organic Tilapia filet, seasoned well with salt and pepper. I had a nice poblano chili, which I blackened over a gas flame, and then finely diced. This was mixed with a smashed clove of garlic, two little tomatillos, olive oil, lime juice, salt and pepper. This was spooned over the fish, and then, with a few deft folds, I made the parcel:

After 20 minutes in a 425F oven, the package gets torn open from the top (careful of all that steam), and sprinkled with a few pepitas. Perfect. With no dishes to do, I can read a chapter or two of Return to Paris...

Viva Caprese!

Oh how I love simple.

This is a photograph of what I had for dinner. Two succulent little spheres of silky, fresh Buffalo Mozzarella sliced as thin as I could manage, one perfectly ripe tomato, a drizzle of Spanish olive oil, a splash of Banyuls vinegar, sea salt, fresh pepper, and basil from my garden. It took me 5 minutes to put together, and is quite possibly the most delicious thing on the planet. It was all I could do to take the photograph before I dove in, but doesn't this look lovely perched atop a huge tuffet of thyme in the herb garden?

I'm in my happy place...

Radishes

I love them. French Breakfast. Easter Egg. China Rose. Does anything else taste like a radish? Right now I have hundreds of them growing in my garden.

I do admit, that beyond a salad it isn't always easy to come up something to do with them. Of course there are creative ways with almost any food, but I also think there is some comfort in having a few foods that you are forced to eat simply.

My top three ways with a radish:

-Atop a bed of greens with whatever other vegetables I have floating about the kitchen. In this photo I used frisee, fresh peas, a little tomato, and a sprinkling of sunflower seeds, the radishes sliced paper thin, with a simple marmalade vinaigrette. You could also make a dressing that is creamy, perhaps with dill and some 30% sour cream;

-At the table, in a bowl, another bowl filled with sea salt. Dip, bite, say "mmmmm", repeat.

-Two slices of good bread, cool-ish butter, and thinly sliced French Breakfast radishes. Wash down with some lemonade or a cup of Earl Grey.

The Brittle Truth

On Sunday a friend and I took a wee road trip to Stratford, Ontario to do some shooting (photographs, not the killer swans circling the Avon). Coming across an interesting looking candy shop, we darted inside to investigate. My friend is a bit of a chili pepper fanatic, so imagine his delight when we came across this little display of deliciousness:

Yes, that's right, chili garlic peanut brittle. On paper, this sounded lovely. Sweet, salty, spicy, together in one shiny, tooth-busting red package. I am a person who once ate chocolate with bacon in it, so this seemed like a no-brainer.

On the way home, we cracked the package and dove in with gusto. Apparently, the look on my face said it all. Clearly, I was not enjoying this particular culinary experience. While I frantically attempted to extract the offending object my mouth as quickly as possible, my companion ate a very, very, big piece. A good illustration of the subjective nature of taste, and food.

If you ever come across this particular item, by all means, go ahead and try it. You may enjoy the flavour of something that makes me imagine what the dried stuff on the edge of a BBQ sauce lid might taste like.

Just sayin'...