As Local as it Gets: Garden Planning

My blog is probably going to change direction a bit this spring/summer, as the source just a whole lot closer. I was lucky enough to find a home to rent just outside of the city on 35 acres of land. The home owners have kindly allowed me a very large space for my first garden. The land that we are on has always been farmed organically, from what I hear, although there is currently no farming being done. It has not been used to produce food, save for the tiny garden plot behind the house, in a long, long time.
I have never had a garden before... well, that's not true. Every summer, my sisters and I would eagerly make our way over to our weed strewn, dried out little plot on an island near Lake of the Woods, where we spent our summers. Every year we would plant a vast array of vegetables and then promptly lose interest. Once in a while we'd check out the garden, find it overtaken or dried out, snack on the few morsels of edible stuff, and then continue to play somewhere else. We didn't understand the work that went into a garden then. Next to our little plot was my Auntie Jean's garden. Her garden was always thriving and bursting with vegetables. Sometimes we'd even sneak a garden pea or two and run away giggling. I think we always thought that Auntie Jean must have been in cahoots with Mother Nature. How else did her garden always look so good and ours, so poor, in comparison?
Eventually, we gave up. All that digging and sweating and impatient waiting never produced anything more than a tiny salad, which we'd all fight over. But this year promises to be different. I'm very excited about the prospects of self-sufficiency. Maybe I'm hoping that there's a little Auntie Jean in me too.

Eager as ever, I started ordering seed catalogs in the fall. I remember reading Barbara Kingsolver's awe as she pored over her seed catalogs. I now understand that feeling. So many varieties... Heirloom. Certified organic. Hybrids. Early harvests. Late harvests. It's all so overwhelming to someone who's admittedly never done this before.
One of my first big purchases was the Encyclopaedia of Natural Insect and Disease Control. After making a list of everything that I wanted in my garden, I diligently looked up each one (honestly, I've gotten through only three) and made notes. Who knew there were so many insects who hanker for just one vegetable? For example, the cabbage is susceptible to a plethora of hungry critters: aphids, the cabbage looper, the cabbage looper moth, the cabbage maggot, the cabbageworm, the army worm, the imported cabbage worm (like a homegrown one wasn't enough!), the vegetable weevil and the mole cricket. The list, quite literally, goes on and on and on. Never mind that the property is home to a fairly large herd of deer, rabbits, skunks, a red fox and coyotes. I've even seen a wild turkey out here. How do I protect my garden from all of them? And, ultimately, is it fair to keep them out? Aren't they, too, a part of the natural world? But then, is my garden? These are all questions that niggled away while I plotted and planned.

To be continued...

Heritage Maple Products- A Visit to the Sugar Bush

Last week I was lucky enough to be taken on a tour of a sugar bush by Leon Martin. Leon owns Heritage Maple Products and sells maple syrup at the Guelph Farmers Market year-round. I had asked him in the fall if I could come out to the sugar bush for a tour and I'm really glad that I did.

It was a beautifully sunny day, but snow still clung stubbornly to the ground. My friend, Tanya, and I met Leon out at his friend's sugar bush somewhere near Elmira, Ontario. As we drove the country roads, filled with that overwhelming sense of freedom that you get only when you leave the city, I tried to imagine what the operation would look like. Now maybe I've read one too many Laura Ingalls Wilder books, but my idea of a maple syrup operation was a little romantic and not at all realistic. I had pictured wooden pails hanging from trees and a huge bonfire in the middle of the bush. A large, cast iron cauldron full of sticky sap hung over the fire and was being boiled down into maple syrup. Men with grizzled beards and diseveled hair were talking excitedly about this year's prospects and the air was filled with the sweetest scent...  Boy, am I a dreamer. When we did find the bush, there were no pails, no grizzled beards and no bonfire. Instead, what we saw was a much more sophisticated operation than that of the pioneer days.

We had chosen a good day to visit since it had been frosty the night before, but was promising to be quite warm in the afternoon. Temperatures of 5-6 degrees above zero during the day, coupled with temperatures below zero at night (between -2 to -3), are most ideal. The cold hinders fermentation, while the sun's warmth causes the tree's pores to dilate, releasing sap.

Small taps are inserted into in 1/2 inch deep holes in the trunk of the tree, about 4 feet from the ground. Plastic tubing is attached to the tap, and runs from one tree to another, eventually, running into a main holding tank. No more than 6 to 8 trees are tapped per line. The bush ends up looking like a maze of colour, twisting and turning until it reaches its final destination. The lines are all under vacuum and if you look closely enough, you can actually see the sweet nectar as it moves along. The lines end at the transfer pump. Its job is to pump the sap into the main tank, which can hold up to 3000 gallons of sap. I climbed the ladder on the side of the tank and had a good look inside. I was surprised to see how clear and thin the sap was. From the main tank, the sap goes through a filtration process by means of reverse osmosis. Reverse osmosis is the very same technology used in some homes to remove impurities from tap water. Since only pure water can get through the filters what remains is concentrated sap. At this point, 75-80% of the water removed. So sophisticated, these filters can process 600-800 gallons per hour, depending on how many RO membranes are being used.

Once filtered, the concentrated sap is transferred to yet another holding tank. This one is smaller in size, holding up to 800 gallons of concentrate. When there is enough sap to process, it flows to the evaporation unit. Again, this is no pioneer operation; the evaporation unit is very high-tech! The evaporating unit is situated over a huge fire box. The fire heats the sap in the unit, which produces steam. This steam heats a slanted, metal surface situated directly above the sap. The concentrated sap is then pumped up to the top of the unit where it flows down this metal surface, causing further evaporation. The system has a series of floats which regulate the sap levels. They open automatically when the pan calls for more liquid. Once the operation really gets going, this process is constant. From the front pan, the concentrate is moved into a second pan, called the flue pan. The bottom of this pan is rippled with peaks that rise about 8 inches high. This rippling effect creates more surface area on both the fire side, as well as the sap side, allowing for even more evaporation.

Finally, the concentrate moves to another tank which blows air into the sap through a pipe system, causing the sap to move vigourously. Moving sap releases more steam  than sap that is sitting still. At this point, the sap is now maple syrup and, from here, it moves to the finishing pan. The finishing pan's heat is regualted and once it reaches its desired temperature, the syrup is released into the bucket below. The syrup must be filtered before it can be consumed though. From the bucket, it passes through a stainless steel pump and then through a filter press. Finally, it travels to the hot packing tank.It is now ready for packaging.

From tree to container, maple syrup production is a much more complicated process than I had ever imagined. Gone are the days of bonfires and buckets. With Canada being the world's top producer of maple products, it's no wonder a quicker and more efficient method was created.

Being a naturally curious person, I really wanted to see what a maple syrup operation was all about. If you too are curious about maple syrup production, come check out the Maple Syrup Festival in Elmira, ON. on March 27th, 2010!

If you are interested in purchasing syrup from Leon, you can find him at the Guelph Farmers Market. He can also be contacted by telephone at (519) 503-2753.

2010 Prices:

4L- $63.00

1L- $22.00

500 mL- $13.00

250 mL- $8.50

100 mL- $5.25

Light syrup: delicate and subtle

Medium: middle of the road

Dark: Strong and robust in flavour

Stay tuned for more on maple syrup...

Upcoming Local Food Workshops

Guelph-Wellington Locavores, there are 4 interesting and inexpensive workshops coming up that you might be interested in. Hosted by Kristi Mahy, they will be held at the Guelph Youth Music Centre, which is located at 75 Cardigan St. in downtown Guelph. Kristi is a local food enthusiast with a background in farming. If you would like more information about the course (other than what I am going to provide below), or you would like to register for a workshop, please contact Kristi at 519-265-8448. She can also be reached by email at kritterbug@gmail.com.
The cost of each session varies but when I contacted Kristi, she said that the prices will range anywhere from $7-15. Personally, I'm excited about the fact that I can attend and afford all four. Hope to see you there!


Plenty in a Small Space: Your Backyard as Your Food Source
Tuesday Feb. 23, 7-9pm
*Learn how to grow your own food during the summer, including starting seedlings, making the best use of small spaces, help with seed selection and garden planning.

Preserving the Bounty of Harvest Time
Tues, Mar 16, 7-9pm
*Learn how to preserve local foods by canning, drying, freezing, burying, fermenting.

Making the Most of Fresh, Local Food
Tues, Apr. 6, 7-9pm
*Learn how to prepare your kitchen for local, whole food preparation, recipes and participatory cooking demo.

Harvesting the Wild Food and Herbs
Tues, May 4, 7-8pm
*Foraging wild food in the summer and fall; using local herbs for healing.

Guelph Wellington Local Food Presents: Source it Here!

I have found something that may interest locavores in the Guelph-Wellington County region. The group, Guelph Wellington Local Food, will be presenting a networking event entitled, Source it Here! The event will showcase local producers and is intended for farmers, chefs, food retailers, food-service and institutional providers, food processors, food distributors and caterers. Although I am none of the above, I will be in attendance. I'm hoping that it will be a valuable source of information and that I may continue to share this information with whoever is reading this blog.
Should you be interested in attending yourself, the event will take place at Loyala House at Ignatius Jesuit Centre- 5420 Hwy 6 North, just north of Guelph. There is a small fee of $15 per individual, or $25 per farm, business or organization (for up to 3 people).
You can register online at http://www.guelphwellingtonlocalfood.ca/ or call 519-821-6638 ex 335 for more information. The registration deadline is tomorrow, so if you need to act quickly.

Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer: A Review

I chose to review this book because it is yet another prime example of why we should be eating closer to the source. Enjoy!!

Always a touchy subject, Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals is yet another book which explores the dark underbelly of our food system. Before the birth of his son, like many of us, Safran Foer considered himself to be a part-time vegetarian at best. He knew there was sure what it was. His investigation took him to a stranger’s poultry farm, in the middle of the night, dressed in black. It saw him interviewing farmers, past and present, slaughterhouse workers, members of PETA, cattle ranchers, meat-eaters, vegetarians and vegans. He even interviewed a vegetarian rancher.
What makes this book different is that it doesn’t have a specific agenda. That is to say, that it does not set out to guilt omnivores into giving up on steak. Meat eaters need not be afraid. Although Eating Animals is, ultimately, an argument for vegetarianism it is not Safran Foer’s only argument. He understands that a move towards global vegetarianism is altogether unrealistic. His fundamental argument is for a “wiser animal agriculture and more honourable omnivory”.
Arguably, what makes this book so interesting is its philosophical approach. Safran Foer includes persuasive arguments from individuals whose ideas are ordinarily in direct conflict with one another. While the differences in opinions do matter to their advocates, ultimately they are on common ground. When compared to arguments that defend factory farming, these differences become immaterial. Readers are not told what to think, nor are they judged on their decisions. They are merely asked to respond. Jonathan Safran Foer says that “not responding is a response – and we are equally responsible for what we don’t do”.
If you are going to read one book on the factory food system, make it this one. It is extremely well-researched and strongly written. It does not judge, nor preach. It is educational, well-balanced and insightful and, hopefully, it will change the way you eat forever.

Food as Identity: Are you what you eat?

I read a lot and lately I have been reading a lot about food. Here are a few of the most recent titles: Diamond Grill by Fred Wah, A Taste of Paprika by Laura Elise Taylor, Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer by Novella Carpenter, and Near a Thousand Tables: A History of Food by Felipe Fernandez-Armesto. The first three texts are memoirs. I'm only about 50 pages into Near a Thousand Tables, but so far it is an interesting in-depth analysis of food consumption over the ages. What these texts all have in common though, is that they explore the concept of identity through food. In each story, food is the common bond that brings people together. As I was reading each text, I asked myself a lot of questions. How big of a role does food play in the creation of our identities? Are we really what we eat?
I work in a Thai restaurant and a lot of what we serve is from well outside of the 100 mile diet's boundaries. There is no such thing as a local papaya, mango or lemon? How can the 100 mile diet apply to those of ethnic origin when so much of who they are depends on what they eat? If you take away the food, do you take away the identity?
I noticed in my time at the Thai restaurant, that the family who owned it only ate Thai food. They claimed that they did not like Canadian food. It got me thinking, what exactly is Canadian food? When I asked what they considered Canadian food, they said hamburgers. I laughed. I could see why they would think that since the masses of fast food chains mostly serve hamburgers. That night at home, I really sat and thought about it. I found myself pondering out loud, "I wonder if they've ever had pancakes". "Probably not," Alex answered from the living room.
Lo and behold, I get to work on Monday morning, and the owner is standing in the kitchen waving a box of Aunt Jemima pancake batter at me and saying "I'm Canadian". I couldn't help but laugh. I told him to wait until the following day when I could bring some real maple syrup and we could have a pancake feast. I drew a picture of a maple tree and tried to explain that the syrup came from inside the tree. They just looked at me in wonder. Crazy talk! On the following morning, we all had our first Canadian breakfast together.
Later that week I was talking to a couple of our regulars, a cute retired couple. I was telling them about our Canadian culinary adventures in the kitchen. Peter Morris and his wife, Jean, posed the exact same question that I had: What exactly is Canadian food?

A week later, Peter and Jean returned. Jean had dug through her old cookbooks and found one that she thought might interest me. She presented me with her gift. The cookbook, Canada Cookbook: The Scenic Land, was published in North Vancouver, BC and had sections for French heritage, the heritage of Upper Canada, the First Nations, prairie harvest and Canada's international cities. There were recipes from cultures whose cuisine I had never tried. Quite a few recipes called for ingredients that were mostly unavailable to the average Canadian urban dweller, such as venison, rabbit, frogs legs, saskatoon berries and moose. Jean had written a small list of recipes from the book that she thought were particularly Canadian. The list included pea soup, apple pie and popcorn, all of which I had made and eaten many times. But there were many recipes included in the book that I had never heard of, let alone considered part of my regular diet. Could this cookbook, then, be considered a true reflection of Canadian culture? If we are what we eat, what the heck was I?
I went home, cookbook in hand, and vowed that I would make something new and 'Canadian' that very night. I chose Cream of Pumpkin Soup from the Upper Canada Heritage section. I just happened to have several pumpkins lying around that needed to be consumed. The recipe for the soup is below:

Cream of Pumpkin Soup

900 g pumpkin, peeled, seeded and cut into chunks

3 tbsp butter

1 small onion, chopped

2 tbsp flour

3 cups hot milk

1/2 cup hot chicken stock

croutons

salt and pepper

Place pumpkin into large saucepan and cover with salted water. Bring to boil and cook for 20 minutes. Drain and puree. Set aside. Melt butter in saucepan. Add onions; cook 2 minutes. Add flour; mix and cook 1 minute. Add milk; stir and cook 3 to 4 minutes. Season well and incorporate pumpkin puree and chicken stock; stir and cook 20 minutes over low heat.

Serve with croutons.

The soup was delicious, rich and creamy! Finally, something else I can do with all these pumpkins. Thank you to Jean Morris for your thoughtful gift. I have looked at that cookbook everyday. I would love to hear from others... what do you consider a truly Canadian meal? What recipe has been passed on from generation to generation in your family? If a Canadian restaurant was to open in another country, what would it serve? Please post your comments and/or recipes here.

My fellow foodie....

She was regular enough that we could continue conversations where we last left off, but not regular enough that I knew her name. When last she was in the Thai restaurant where I work, we were talking about food. Not the food that I was carefully packing into a bag for her lunch, but the kind you grow. We talked about eating locally and gardening. I told her about my blog. Then last week, she popped in, ordered the dish I had recommended to her on her last visit, and asked me if I had ever seen Canadian garlic. I told her I had. We talked about garlic politics and how much we prefer Canadian garlic. There had been a garlic seller earlier this summer at the farmer's market. I had thought that he would be there again and deemed it too early for a braid of garlic. He never returned. I told her how disappointed I was that I had missed out on the opportunity. She told me that she grew garlic herself that summer. She asked if I wanted some. Did I? Of course I did, I replied, perhaps a little too exuberantly. I was certain that this was a rhetorical question. Who didn't want fresh, locally grown bulbs of garlic? She left with her lunch, promising to return the following day with her gift of garlic.
The following morning, I watched eagerly as customers came and went. I told myself that people offer gifts all the time and never follow through. My mother always told me that it was the thought that counted. Hopefully, this thought would taste like garlic. And suddenly she came bouncing into the restaurant with an overstuffed brown paper bag, her face obscured by the feathery green tops of a bunch of carrots. Before I could say anything else, I blurted, "What's your name?" She laughed, "Trish". I smiled, took the bag from her and told her my name. She had literally just finished pulling this bounty out of her garden. The bag was filled with carrots, leeks, red onions and precious garlic. I inhaled deeply. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And as quickly as she came, she went. She left me dreaming about the endless possibilities...
The next morning I rose bright and early, scrubbed the dirt of the vegetables, trimmed them, and chopped them up into large chunks. I had decided the day before that I was going to try out this vegan soup recipe that I had found in a cookbook entitled Local Bounty: Seasonal Vegan Recipes by Devra Gartenstein.

Roasted Leek and Carrot Soup

1 pound carrots, cut into 2-inch pieces

1 pound leeks, washed and cut into 2-inch pieces

1 medium onion, quartered

1 whole head of garlic, broken into unpeeled cloves

3 T olive oil

2 Q vegetable stock or water

1 c white wine

1 c fresh parsley, chopped

¼ c nutritional yeast

1 t salt

2-3 T balsamic vinegar

 
Preheat oven to 450.
Toss carrots, leeks, and onion with the oil and spread on cookie sheet, leaving one corner free. Put the garlic cloves in the same bowl and mix around to get the last of the oil, then place in corner of the cookie sheet. Roast for 30-40 minutes, until golden.
Meanwhile, combine stock, wine, parsley, nutritional yeast, and salt and simmer over medium-low heat. When the veggies are roasted, add carrots, leeks, and onion to the stock, and squeeze the garlic out of the cloves, adding the garlic to the soup and discarding the skins. Once veggies have been added, simmer for another 30 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in balsamic. Let cool for about 15 minutes.

Blend soup in batches until smooth, taste, and adjust seasonings. Return to pot, reheat and serve.

My soup was made without the nutritional yeast because I didn't have any and I think it was just fine without it. I put only 2 1/2 Tbsp of balsamic vinegar but I think it could have used a little less. The soup was fantastic! All the flavours worked really well together. You could actually taste the freshness of the produce. The only problem with the soup was how it looked. It was the most disgusting soup I had ever seen. It smelled wonderful but it was an orangey-brown colour that just looked wrong. If you are a person who is affected by food aesthetics, this might not be the soup for you. Otherwise it was full of flavour and extremely healthy.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Trish! :)