Vert-à-Go

“The frying pan’s too wide…’ –Joni Mitchell, “My Old Man”

I have been posting sporadically lately. In April, my marriage came to an abrupt end and I have spent pretty much the entire time since then dealing with the exquisitely painful unpleasantness that a breakup entails while still trying to go through the necessary forward motions of everyday life with small children.

The final decision came at the end of the entire household’s two-week-long bout with the flu (the worst of my adult life). During the time I was sick, I could barely walk to the kitchen, let alone cook anything. We survived for a week on ginger ale and crackers, soup from the freezer and a cardboard box, poached eggs on toast, grilled cheese sandwiches, and later, takeout Vietnamese noodles. Anything in the fridge pre-dating the flu began to quietly turn on us while we all lay there inert–the neglected vegetables in the crisper, the chocolate milk, the leftovers from our final dinner party.

I didn’t really cook for quite some weeks after the morning of Thursday, April the 9th. There didn’t seem to be an awful lot of point, as I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything anyway. The kids were content enough for the time being with their rather monotonous rotation of 5-minute meals punctuated with fruit and cucumber and yoghurt and baby pita breads, while I ate a cracker here and there and rapidly lost the weight put on last autumn while I was sick with a succession of colds and heartaches. Reluctantly, having been anti-vitamin my entire life, I embarked on an annoying new regime of supplements to boost my decrepit immune system. I can’t tell you what a depressing moment it was to learn that my drastically depleted iron stores would simply never recover just with food alone. Even if I wanted food, it couldn’t help me now.

It wasn’t just that I didn’t have an appetite, however. Along with the music I couldn’t listen to anymore, the movies I couldn’t watch, and the photographs I couldn’t look at it, there were suddenly a huge number of meals and foods that were now off-limits because of the memories they stirred. Seventeen years together, just short of 14 years married–well over 3000 meals shared together. No more. I couldn’t yet contemplate a future of special meals cooked alone and eaten alone after the kids were in bed. I took curry off the menu indefinitely, threw the brown sauce into the garbage and shoved the tiger prawns to the back of the freezer.

Even when I managed to start cooking properly again, the reminders continued unabated. The everyday placemats that were a wedding present had to go. I grimly started separating the dishes: the bowl given by my mother-in-law, the tray made by his friend, the birthday wine glasses and carafe from my parents. Cookbooks were pulled from their cosy alphabetical home and piled into two teetering stacks. His, Nigella Lawson, Gary Rhodes. Hers, Nigel Slater, Mark Bittman. I had almost forgotten how cooking used to be a shared pleasure and how many kitchen items we had given to each other over the years–the pots and pans, the pestle and mortar, the new mixer, the beautiful big salad bowls. Who would take what? Who would start new? Could either of us manage to divorce the memory contained in these much-loved familiar objects and happily go on using them like nothing had ever happened?

I rearranged our table seating so that the empty chair wouldn’t be so obvious, but I still couldn’t seem to prise myself away from the square certainty of number four. I had made and eaten plenty of meals on my own with the kids over the years, but soon realised that there must be a deeper psychological reason for why after 20-odd years in the kitchen, I was suddenly incapable of figuring out how much food to cook for three people. The cold unwanted spaghetti pointed its long thin fingers at me accusingly as I tipped it into the compost hours later. Legions of leftovers lingered long past their welcome. I realised anew that the base amount for most recipes seems to be four people and despaired over the questions, “How do you split an egg in half?”* and “What if two is not enough and four is too many?”

Not quite six weeks later, I’m (mostly) eating and cooking again. I’ve even slowly cleaned out the fridge of the rotten two-month-old reminders of meals gone past. I expect that it will be some time yet before I’m fully up to speed with the new status quo in the kitchen and the table. In the meantime, I’m taking an enjoyably selfish pleasure in eating what I want when I want, and am mainly concentrating on making food to keep us well, make us happy, and create new memories (like my mom’s waffles, which we had this weekend). We’re also all eagerly awaiting the warmer weather that will let us finally get out in the garden and start growing something of our own to eat again. Spring is here, even if it doesn’t feel like it quite yet.

My mother’s waffles

• 2 cups flour (I like to use half whole wheat)
• 1Tb baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 Tb sugar
• 2 eggs (separated)
• 1-2/3 cups milk
• 6Tb vegetable oil

Mix egg yolks and milk–add dry ingredients–add vegetable oil–then stiffly beaten egg whites.

Serve with syrup, berries, jam, and vanilla ice cream. Personally, I like a bit of bacon on the side. You may think this is rather weird, but hopefully we can agree to disagree.

Serves 4–or a family of 3 with leftovers. Who doesn’t like leftovers?

* To split an egg in half, whisk it gently together and divide it that way. If the yolks and whites have to stay separate, just try using the smallest egg that you have. It really probably won’t make that much difference to the final recipe.

I confess that I do struggle against climate dread. Any new news about the environment is very seldom good news, and it is demoralising beyond belief to walk home from the farmers’ market with a bag of locally-grown organic food, only to be blown past by someone chucking a McDonald’s wrapper out of the window of their Hummer.

But we can’t sit around and do nothing, even if somewhere out there our evil twin is itching to replace every ounce of carbon that we struggle not to emit. And the food that we choose to eat can make a real and instant difference to our ecological impact. It’s important to educate yourself about what is in the food you eat, where it comes from, how it is produced, and what impact it has on your health, the people who grow it, the animals who provide it, and the environment. As Wendell Barry puts it, “Eating is an agricultural act.” We need to pay attention to our food, not just be mindless consumers.

Here are a dozen things you can do right now to radically reduce your food footprint. Most of them will save you money and improve your health, too!

1. Eat less meat

2. Grow some food to eat this year

3. Eat seasonal, locally-produced food

4. Eat organic food, preferably locally-produced

5. Choose fair trade food products

6. Only eat fish and seafood from safe and sustainable fisheries

8. Reduce your consumption of industrially-produced/processed/fast food

7. Walk, bike, bus or carpool to the store, market, or restaurant

9. Plan your meals ahead and keep track of leftovers to avoid food waste

10. Drink tap water, not bottled water, and don’t forget the carbon/water footprint of other drinks too

11. Compost your food waste

12. Use more energy-efficient ways to cook your food

…and check out Reiko’s Bento Lab–-just because I guarantee it will make you smile!

(this post is mostly a rerun–but it still says everything that I want to say. Happy Earth Day!)

The Saskatchewan Waste Reduction Council will be hosting two mini-classes on composting at the beginning of May. Whether you’re new to composting and want to find out how to get started, or whether you need some advice on your current composting setup, this crash course will help you out!

Composting mini-class

When: Thursday 7 May,  7-8pm

Where: Lower Auditorium, J S Wood Library, 1801 Lansdowne Avenue, Saskatoon, SK (Google map)

Admission: free, no need to pre-register, just turn up!

For more information: Saskatchewan Waste Reduction Council

The Saskatchewan Waste Reduction Council will be hosting two mini-classes on composting at the beginning of May. Whether you’re new to composting and want to find out how to get started, or whether you need some advice on your current composting setup, this crash course will help you out!

Composting mini-class

When: Tuesday 5 May,  7-8pm

Where: Mayfair Library, 602 33rd Street West, Saskatoon, SK (Google map)

Admission: free, no need to pre-register, just turn up!

For more information: Saskatchewan Waste Reduction Council

The Saskatchewan Eco-Network will host the 4th Annual Saskatchewan Environmental Film Festival (”See the Change, Be the Change”) this weekend at the University of Saskatchewan.

The 10th annual Seedy Saturday seed exchange & eco-fair is today! Seedy Saturday is a fun and informative event promoting heirloom seed-saving, biodiversity, and sustainable living. Come along for lunch (soup, salad and bannock!), check out the many interesting information booths, and join in on the free presentations on several topics of interest. There will also be children’s activities running throughout the day.

See you there!

10th Annual Seedy Saturday

When: Saturday 14 March, 12-5pm

Where: Princess Alexandra School, 210 Ave H South, Saskatoon, SK (Google map)

Admission: $2. Lunch $2 or whatever you can pay

For more information: Seedy Saturday events (Seeds of Diversity), Dana (dana@chep.org or 655-5322)

I initially described this acorn squash as a leftover, but really it wasn’t, because it had never actually gotten as far as being cooked. It had simply sat in a bowl in the counter for three weeks, staring at me accusingly while I tried to avoid looking at it. That’s what you get for buying something you don’t often buy without having a specific plan for how you’re going to use it!

The other issue with the squash is that I had only bought one of them, which really wasn’t going to go far enough to feed four people in any recipe I already knew, so there it sat. I finally realised that it wasn’t actually going to leap onto the stove itself (although I suppose it might have, if I’d left it another couple weeks). So I turned, as always, to Chef Google. This simple recipe for apple acorn squash soup from BC Tree Fruits* took care of that squash, a few apples that weren’t quite as crisp as they once had been, and part of a huge bunch of parsley that seems to have no end. It also finished off the chicken stock I had in the freezer, which prompted me to make another batch of stock that in turn used up some not-so-crisp celery and more of that never-ending parsley. The crisper drawer is now in much better shape. Only nice fresh vegetables remain and I don’t have to feel a twinge of guilt or apprehension when I open the drawer. A fridge really isn’t any different than the rest of the house–if any part of it gets ridiculously cluttered, then it can become very difficult to concentrate at the task at hand (in this case, cooking).

Food waste really has become a huge issue for me over the past few years, and I’ll soon be starting a series on how to drastically cut down on the amount of food that gets thrown in the (compost, hopefully) bin. In the past it was quite common for me to have to chuck stuff out, but now it’s a pretty rare exception. It’s not that hard to change your habits–some menu planning, inventory-keeping, thoughtful grocery shopping, and liberal use of your good friend Google will all help to get your groceries into your stomach where they belong, rather than the landfill. An estimated 5% of food is thrown out of Canadian fridges–at least–on a regular basis. In Britain, it’s about 1/3rd and in the US, estimates are as high as 40%. I can’t see why Canada’s level of waste would be much different. Cutting back on this unnecessary waste is the easiest way to reduce our consumption and ease the demand for food production, not to mention reduce the significant methane gas emissions caused by decomposing organic matter in landfills while saving you some significant money on your food bills too.

As Alex Renton wrote in the Observer a few weeks ago, there would be no need for GM crops if supermarkets and consumers weren’t so wasteful. The first and easiest place to start is with a warming winter bowl of soup like the one above!

* Those are walnuts floating on the top. They weren’t about to go bad–I just thought they would taste good, and so they did. Next time I will candy them. Yum. It could easily be made into a vegetarian soup by substituting vegetable stock.

“We still (sometimes) remember that we cannot be free if our minds and voices are controlled by someone else. But we have neglected to understand that we cannot be free if our food and its sources are controlled by someone else. The condition of the passive consumer of food is not a democratic condition. One reason to eat responsibly is to live free.”

- Wendell Berry, “The Pleasures of Eating” from What Are People For?

One of the main reasons I decided to grow tomatillos for the first time this spring was because of the incredible tomatillo corn chowder I tried at my sister’s house last year. I simply could not get it out of my head! It is the finest soup I have ever tasted–spicy and profoundly satisfying. It is hearty enough to enjoy on its own for supper with bread, but unusual and sophisticated enough that you could happily serve it at a winter dinner party.

I harvested about 8lbs of tomatillos from my two plants this autumn, so I decided to make a double batch of this soup and stick some away in the freezer. I have to admit that it was a bit of a production–between making a huge cauldron of stock from scratch, assembling the mountain of ingredients, and preparing and roasting the vegetables, it definitely turned into an on-and-off weekend project. But don’t let that scare you off! It is *so* worth the effort in the end.

While my hands were busy gathering and preparing the ingredients (you’d be surprised how long it takes to remove the husks from 8lbs of tomatillos), I had quite a lot of free time to think about what I was making. And it struck me that this soup is actually a pretty accurate microcosm of the modern-day food production and distribution system. The ingredients came from all over the world, via a wide variety of sources, and I found that each and every one prompted a thorny question or decision. What kind of food should I buy? Where should I buy it and how much should I pay? What about growing my own? What impact do my choices have on the environment, and my health, and even the well-being of farm workers living halfway around the world? It’s important to ask these questions and consider these issues so that we don’t simply remain passive consumers of whatever some multinational corporation decides to dish out to us. We must take responsibility for what we eat.

Let’s have a look at the ingredients in detail:

• Chicken stock: I made this myself, from a local free-range bird (using mainly local vegetables, but the organic grocery store celery was imported from California). Free-range/naturally-raised animals generally have a happier existence than their factory farm counterparts, and their environmental impact is lower. But a vegetarian meal usually has a far smaller carbon footprint than a meat-based meal and should be our first choice.

• Anaheim chilies: I got the last 3 of Grandora’s Christmas bell peppers at the farmers’ market, and that  was it for their fresh hot peppers for the year–so I had to buy another 7 conventionally-grown Mexican Anaheims from the grocery store. If I’d gotten organised to make the soup earlier in the autumn, I could have used all seasonal local ingredients instead of 70% imported.

• Tomatillos: I grew these myself in the back garden, picked them and put them into a cool room in the basement. Sadly, I didn’t deal with them fast enough and wound up losing about half of them to spoilage. I was so annoyed with myself. Expending all that energy to grow them, only to throw half on the compost pile? It was such an unnecessary waste of food–something that I’ve otherwise worked really hard to avoid over the past year. But have a look in a supermarket or restaurant’s dumpster and you’ll see that this kind of waste is part and parcel of our profligate food production and distribution system. This waste meant a lot more to me personally because I was the one who had grown it in the first place, and I’ve vowed it won’t happen again.

• Vegetable oil: I used canola oil here. But canola is a huge can of worms–83% of canola now grown on the Canadian prairies is genetically modified. Its proponents say it gives them better yields and helps them use fewer herbicides. But these GM crop varieties are also completely controlled by Monsanto, which is hyper-protective of its babies. Regardless of any benefits from a particular GM variety, I feel incredibly uneasy about the advisability of handing over such a huge amount of control over food production to a corporation: “an entity whose legally-defined mandate is to pursue relentlessly and without exception its own economic self-interest, regardless of the harmful consequences it might cause to others”–especially when their market dominance virtually crowds out any other non-GM variety from being grown.

• Onion: I used the last local onion I had, and one that the grocery store advertises as local, but which comes from at least 300 miles away. A supermarket’s definition of ‘local’ (or ‘organic’) is likely quite a bit different than yours.

• Garlic: I used one local bulb that I had on hand, and the remainder came from a jar of minced roasted garlic that I bought earlier this year because it said ‘Product of Canada’. I only later discovered that this likely means the garlic itself was grown in China (like most fresh bulbs in the grocery store) and then imported to Canada for bottling. Food origin labels don’t always tell the whole story about where something came from.

• Salt: I generally use Sifto salt, which comes from the mine in Unity, Saskatchewan. I must say I felt a tiny (if not entirely commendable) twinge of schadenfreude while reading The 100 Mile Diet, where BC-dwelling locavores Alisa Smith and J B MacKinnon bemoan the lack of proper flour and salt during their year-long experiment with local-only eating. We might not have peaches in Saskatchewan, but at least I’m not eating weevil-infested wheat! We should be aware of (and be grateful for) our local food specialties.

• Ground coriander: I’m working on a bag I bought at the supermarket many moons ago. Mysteriously, large quantities of bagged spices in the international food section often cost *way* less money than the tiny bottles found in the spice aisle. You can also often find superior quality rice at a specialty Asian market, or a get a much better deal on locally-produced organic flax seed at the SaskMade Marketplace. Despite their boasts, supermarkets don’t always offer the best value and it pays to shop around to get the most out of your food budget.

• Oregano: If I had made the soup earlier in the autumn, I could have got fresh local oregano at the market, but it was now finished. Usually I would use dried in this situation, but the recipe said the fresh herb was essential, so I bought organic oregano sealed in a plastic box and imported from California. The plastic packaging (which can only go in the garbage here unless you pay for curbside recycling services), as well as the amount of energy required to ship such a highly perishable food all the way here without it rotting in transit, really made me shudder (as did the fact that part of it was already dark and withering and I had to end up composting half of it).

• Jalapeno peppers: fresh from my garden. I picked them in late September or early October, and they kept for a month and a half in the fridge. I’d like to see a grocery store pepper beat the refrigerator shelf life of home-grown produce!

• Potatoes: I bought local organically-grown potatoes. Potatoes rank number 12 in a list of of fruits and vegetables that are most often treated with pesticides/fungicides during commercial production. Pesticide/fungicide residue on food is common, and many of these chemicals are extremely harmful to human health and contaminate the environment. We can and should grow food using more sustainable methods and reduce chemical use wherever possible.

• Corn: I used frozen corn from the grocery store. I generally prefer frozen corn to canned, partly because most canned food comes in tins lined with bisphenol A. If I had been more on the ball, I might have frozen my own corn kernels from cobs from the farmers’ market to use later on, but it’s quite a lot of work. Sometimes you really just want someone else to do the processing work for you.

• Cream: I generally buy all my milk from Dairyland, which is processed here in Saskatoon (Beatrice and Lucerne products likely come from their milk processing plants in Edmonton). Why ship milk from local dairies hundreds of miles away, put it in cartons, and then ship it all the way back here again? I’m sure Dairyland is bringing in milk from far away as well, but I still don’t think it hurts to support local food producers and processing facilities.

• Black pepper: I buy my peppercorns from the Orchard del Sol farm in Costa Rica, which emphasises ethical and ecologically sustainable farming methods (including fair worker wages). Many luxury crops such as coffee, cocoa, and spices give huge profits to landowners and corporations at a terrible cost to workers and the local environment. Fair trade, organic, shade-grown products are the most responsible consumer choice–buying them wherever possible creates pressure on ‘conventional’ growers to smarten up and improve their farming methods.

Round the world and home again for tomatillo soup

• 8 cups chicken or vegetable stock
• 5 Anaheim chilies (or whatever chili/pepper you have on hand)
• 1.5 lbs tomatillos
• 2 Tbsp vegetable oil
• 1 yellow onion (diced)
• 10 garlic cloves (minced)
• 2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp ground coriander
• 3 Tbsp minced oregano (important that it’s fresh! This makes the soup)
• 4 jalapeno peppers (seeded and minced)
• 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes (diced)
• 3 cups corn (fresh or frozen)
• 1 cup cream or half and half
• 1 tsp cracked black pepper
• Garnish: chopped cilantro and sliced green onion (optional)

Heat the stock and keep it warm while assembling the soup. Preheat oven to 400F.

Halve and seed chiles. Remove husks from tomatillos, rinse, and dry. In a large bowl, toss the tomatillos and chilies with a little olive oil so they are lightly coated. Place on a baking sheet and roast until the tomatillo and chili skins are slightly charred (15-20 minutes). Dice the chilies and roughly chop the tomatillos. Set aside.

In a soup pot over medium-high heat, heat the oil and sauté onion until translucent. Stir in garlic, 1 tsp salt, coriander, minced oregano and sauté until golden-ish.

Add the jalapenos, potato, and remaining salt (1 tsp) and stir to combine. Sauté for several minutes, then pour in warm stock to cover. Bring to boil, reduce heat, and simmer until the potatoes are tender.

Add the corn, chilies, and tomatillos; simmer 10 minutes. Slowly add cream and more stock to thin if necessary (don’t let it boil). Simmer and season with salt and cracked pepper to taste. Garnish with chopped cilantro and green onions just before serving.

*This soup freezes well, but reheat it slowly so cream doesn’t separate.*

Serves 8-10

photo by naathas

I went through the fridge today and finally dealt with a weird assortment of things that had been lying there neglected for some time, including:

• a 1L container of partly-cooked pumpkin (about 1 week old)
• about 2 cups of buttermilk (waaaaay past its best-by date–but buttermilk can stay good for weeks. Just make sure it hasn’t permanently separated)
• 1/2 cup of half and half (expiring today)
• 2 links of garlic farmer sausage (1.5 weeks old–I’d bought it fresh at the farmers’ market, so I wasn’t worried about it)
• rather limp-at-the-end green onion (1.5 weeks old)
• some beets, complete with starting-to-wilt greens (1.5 weeks old)

First I took the pumpkin (we had roasted it and used half for soup last week before running out of ambition–a whole pumpkin can be rather overfacing all at once!) and cooked it for about another 10 minutes in the microwave because it was still rather hard. Then I puréed it, getting about 3 cups worth. The purée, along with the buttermilk, was just what I needed for these fabulous and fibre-rich pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (I stuck the other two portions of pumpkin in the freezer for future use):

A most virtuous pumpkin chocolate chip muffin

Dry ingredients (combine in a large bowl)

• 1-1/4 cups whole wheat flour
• 1/2 cup wheat bran
• 3/4 cup ground flaxseed
• 2Tb wheat germ
• 1Tb cinnamon
• 1Tb baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 cup chocolate chips (I used Cocoa Camino’s fair trade organic chocolate chips for the first time, which were delicious and completely worth the extra 80 cents)

Wet ingredients (combine in a medium bowl)

• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1 cup pumpkin purée
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup All Bran Buds cereal

Add the wet ingredients to the dry, stirring until just mixed. Bake at 400F for 20-25 minutes. Keep a close eye on them–I have found 400F to be a little hot for them in my oven and had good results at 375F today for 20 minutes only. You don’t want them to get dried out. My original recipe says that it makes 12, but I today got 12 large ones as well as a full pan of mini-muffins (based on 12, they are 210 calories each, with 6 grams of fat and 8 grams of fibre). I took the mini-muffins out at the 15-minute mark.

Afternoon snack out of the way, I used up the rest of the (shall we say mature?) ingredients in a hearty soup for supper. I combined two different recipes (here and here) to approximate a favourite restaurant dish of mine:

At-home Summa Borscht (because you can’t go to Taunte Maria’s every day)

• 3 cups of 1/2-inch cubed potatoes
• about 4 cups of water (if you had a ham stock or a bone to throw in, that would work well)
• 2 links farmer sausage, casings removed
• 1/2 cup green onion, chopped
• dill to taste (1/4 cup of fresh dill is best, but I used the last of the dried stuff from the garden because that was what I had on hand)
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup half-and-half
• 1 cup chopped beet greens
• salt to taste

Put the potatoes in a large saucepan with the water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until the potatoes are tender. While they are cooking, cook the farmer sausage in a frying pan (break it up with a spoon, but keep it fairly chunky). When the potatoes are ready, stir in the sausage, the green onions, dill, beet greens, and buttermilk. Bring it back to a simmer (until the beet greens are tender–you don’t want them to turn to sludge). Season to taste–depending on the saltiness of the sausage, you may not need to add any salt at all. Stir in the half and half before serving with some lovely bread & butter (and don’t forget the dill pickles!).

Cleaning out the fridge=good food. Go see what you can rescue before it’s too late!