Whilst spending almost a month in Thompson this “spring” teaching cooking and hospitality, I did a lot of reading (when I wasn’t prepping for classes).  When I travel, I always over pack, not clothes but books.  I am always concerned that I will start something and not want to finish it (I give the writer 100 pages to hook me) and then where would I be, miles from home and family without a best friend aka a book?  Now that I have discovered the Kindle app on my tablet though, bulky book packing is a thing of the past.  I am not sure that I will allow on line reading to replace my beloved books (besides I still have a stack waiting for me on my nightstand) but for traveling, Kindle is the ticket.

One of about ten titles that I plowed through was this ditty.  David Lebovitz is a food blogger and photographer that most persons in this field are aware of.  His style is sophisticated and humorous at the same time, noticing and commenting on the subtleties of life in a candid manner.  The sub-title to this book is “Delicious Adventures in the World’s Most Glorious and Perplexing City.”  This excerpt is from the section of his book where he explains, how it was to be the he moved to Paris.

I spent almost a year traipsing around the continent after college doing nothing in particular except learning about European cultures, primarily by pulling up a stool or chair and eating what the locals ate.  During that time I made it through almost every country in Europe and tried whatever local delicacies were to be had: oozing raw-milk cheeses in France and hearty, grain-packed breads in Germany; Belgian milk chocolates that when sniffed, could transport you to a dairy farm in the countryside; and crispy-skin fish grilled over gnarled branches in the souks of Istanbul.  And of course, lots of buttery pasties and crusty breads smeared with plenty of golden butter in Paris, the likes of which I had never tasted before. Page 4 Kindle version

…

Fortunately, the European style of cooking was gaining a foothold in northern California, and there was a new appreciation for fine foods and cooking du marché: buying locally produced foods at their peak of freshness, which was a daily ritual in Europe.  It seemed like common sense to me, and simply the right way to eat.  So I packed up and moved to San Francisco, just across the bay from Berkeley, where an exciting culinary revolution was simmering.  And I hoped cumin-scented desserts weren’t a part of it.

Shopping the outdoor markets of the Bay Area, I discovered farmers who were raising things like blood oranges with tangy, wildly colored juices and tight bunches of deep-violet radicchio, which people at the time assumed were runty heads of cabbage.  Laura Chenel was producing European-style moist rounds of fresh goat cheese in Sonoma, which were so unfamiliar that Americans were mistaking them for tofu (especially in Berkeley).  And viticulturists in Napa Valley were producing hearty wines, like Zinfandel and Pinot Noir, which had a great affinity for the newly celebrated regional cuisine, which was liberally seasoned with lots of fragrant garlic, branches of rosemary and thyme, and drizzled with locally produced olive oil-a big improvement over the bland “salad oil” I grew up with.

I was thrilled-no astounded-to find the culinary counterparts to everything I had eaten in Europe.  I savored the hand-dipped ultrafine chocolates of Alice Medrich at Chocolat, which rivalled those I had swooned over in swanky French chocolate boutiques.  I’d line up daily for a boule of pain au leavain that Steve Sullivan would pull out of his fired-up brick oven every morning over at Acme Bread, and was ecstatic to find many of the pungent cheeses I remembered so fondly from Europe stacked up at the Cheese Board Collective in Berkeley, just across from Chez Panisse. Page 5-6 Kindle Version

If you have lived or traveled to Paris you will appreciate David’s perspective of the Parisians-amazingly formal and stylish, they ride their bikes in business suits and tear into baguettes while walking down the street.  They take a while to warm up to “Americans” (i.e. anyone who lives in North America) but were helpful and accommodating when D and I visited, going on five years ago.

Kath’s quote: “Parisians are always in a big hurry, but are especially frantic if they’re behind you. They’re desperate to be where they rightfully feel they belong: in front of you. It’s a whole other story when you’re behind them, especially when it’s their turn: suddenly they seem to have all the time in the world.” -David Lebovitz

Love-that is all.

As a result of last night’s election results, I was happy and reflective this morning.  Here’s why (in no particular order):

1. D and I honeymooned in Quebec City and cannot wait to have a reason to visit again.

2. Our girls LOVE Quebec.  Daughter #1 studied French with the Explore program at Universite Laval and Daughter #2 in Montreal.

3. Our very own “Frenchman” who will officially be a part of our family when he weds our youngest this fall, was born and raised in Quebec and we adore him!

4. Poutine-my favourite indulgence!

5. Pesto Maison-my go-to brand of upscale pestos.

6. Cheese of every description.  I still remember the hot and goey baked parmesan that we ate at a sidewalk café in Quebec City.

7.  Chefs “just get it done” Chuck Hughes and dreamy Ricardo Larrivee.

8. Montreal smoked beef sandwiches.

9. Bagels.

10. Add your own….

Kath’s quote: “I am proud that my fellow Quebecers have chosen unity and acceptance as we move forward together.”– Justin Trudeau

Love-that is all.

The Canadian Food Experience Project began June 7 2013. As we (participants) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice.

Our twelfth and final task was of the project was to write about a farmer or producer that we knew of that practices “farming sustainably to honour the land and to grow or produce food that may be of a heritage lineage or particularly representative of the terroir of your area”.

My memory immediately went back to the morning that I met Carman and Donna Jackson at High Bluff Stock Farm.

This was my first visit to the area surrounding Inglis, MB.  The setting is rolling and lush.  We passed the scenic Assiniboine River Valley and the Shell River Valley which join at the Shellmouth Dam to form the Lake of the Prairies, en route to the farm that morning.

Carman, Donna and all five of the Jackson daughters are tall, lean, healthy and glowing (but also stylish and well-coiffed)-they are a testament to country living.  When I caught up to them recently, they were on the road for spring break.  Tomina the youngest of the sisters and Donna picked Erin up in Saskatoon where she obtained her Honours Degree with a major in Political Science. Together they toured Lakeland College’s farm and Ag department at Vermilion where Autumn secured her Diploma in Agribusiness. The latter and Fawn, who has her Masters degree from Oklahoma State in International Agriculture, would be met up with in Calgary.  They intended to skype Haylan (a graduate from Dalhousie University in Halifax) and have a wonderful couple of girl days!

When I first met Carman, Donna and Tomina they loved to share the experience of living and working on their diverse, mixed farm.  They share grain farming responsibilities with Donna’s parents and her brother and much of their crop is considered seed grain.  You can discern in a moment that they are well educated and on top of their business and the commitment that the family has made to making the most intelligent decisions for their animals and the environment.  They have created a low stress atmosphere for their prized cattle who are provided the best in nutritious feed, shelter and veterinarian care.

Their beautiful, white coated Charolais herd are obviously well loved and not shy around humans. One of them really wanted to get into a family photo.

Their passion for their animals and the land is so apparent in every thing they believe, say and do.  I am so glad to know them, as they created a 360 impression of a cattle farm family for me.  Thank you Carman and Donna. They are proud cattle ranchers, proud Manitobans and proud Canadians and their commitment to their style of farming and ranching makes me proud too.

Does anyone know why I instantaneously fell in love with their horse?

Kath’s quote: “Farmers are the only indispensable people on the face of the earth.”-Li Zhaoxing

The Canadian Food Experience Project began June 7 2013. As we (participants) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice.

I unfortunately missed out with posting our ninth task of the project which was to write about “a Canadian love affair” with a recipe, food product, wild food, chef, etc. but I have been given permission to get caught up on the assignment now, so here goes.

My Canadian love affair ticks off a number of the criteria – the product is wild rice, specifically the Floating Leaf Brand.  I even love the brand name as I have a pond in my back yard where I grow floating cabbage and hibiscus.  The pond has a little fountain which means that we always have the sound of trickling water in our yard which is especially nice when sitting out back with a glass of wine in the evening.  The floating leaves swim around on the surface of the pond and when they bump into each other they grow babies that are attached by tendrils to their parents.  Once they are large enough, I snip the families apart and by the end of the summer the entire face of the pond is covered with floating leaves.

There are two myths which float around wild rice. Firstly, the plant is not even in the rice family but a grass and secondly, is that most of the aquatic seeds are cultivated and not wild at all.  But in Canada we are blessed with truly wild, wild rice which grows in our clear, freshwater lakes and rivers at my latitude and further to the north.

Three generations of the Ratuski family of Floating Leaf have the experience to harvest the seed at precisely the optimum moment.  There is very little “processing” that occurs thereafter: the seed is simply cleaned and roasted.  There are some instances when the colour of the seed is almost black which creates unusual colour contrasts to a finished plate.

The primary reason why I love wild rice is that although the nutty taste is decadent, it is low in both calories and fat.  In fact, lower in both categories than quinoa which is the golden child of fat and calorie watchers right now.  Wild rice is a complete protein containing all essential amino acids, B vitamins: niacin, riboflavin, thiamine as well as potassium and phosphorous.  This makes wild rice nutritional superior to brown rice and many whole grains.

Our family has many favourite wild rice dishes: cream of mushroom & wild rice soup, broccoli & wild rice and quinoa & rice patties. The Floating Leaf brand has a number of rice blends including basmati, brown and quinoa and we love them all.  We have even sampled their artisan linguine made from wild rice flour, other flours and organic free run eggs. The pasta is thinly rolled out and dried at room temperature and retains the nutty taste of the rice itself.  It holds its own against heavy sauces like our favourite-Italian sausage, grilled zucchini and red peppers.  In summers, we take packets of Floating Leaf’s wild rice pancake mix with us for weekend breakfasts on the deck at the lake.  The mix even includes ground flax which I try to consume once a day to help stabilize my blood pressure.

How often do you find an unprocessed food that adds colour & textural variety to the plate, tastes unusual & distinctive, is low in both fat & calories, is packed with additional nutrition and is truly a local Canadian prairie food?  Floating Leaf Wild Rice-has it all!

Kath’s quote: “To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art.” –La Rochefoucauld

Love-that is all.

The day started with a gorgeous sunrise and

early morning guests to watch the Olympic men’s hockey finals on our TV in the spacious living room at Luna d’Miel. I cooked up a batch of Canadian back bacon and eggs to celebrate our team’s victory.  By 9 am the kitchen was all cleaned up and we were ready to start our day.  D had to head into Centro to arrange to have the golf cart looked at, where it had stalled the night previously in the Colonias.  Lucky for us, they compensated for our break down by giving us another day with the cart.

The gang did not all get up to join us for the game/breakfast and since they had access to the cart, they headed to Mango for brunch because they were all hankering for a fix of Polo’s breakfasts before they left the island.

Everyone had the yummy Coconut French Toast

with the exception of J1 who went for the Breakfast Quesadilla.

When you are at Mango, have you ever been drawn towards to beautiful church on the opposite side of the street?  The church attendees had just departed and so I knew that if I went to have a look around, I wouldn’t be disrupting anyone’s worship.

The sanctuary is absolutely exquisite and I very much want to attend a service the next time I am on Isla.

I can only imagine what it would be like to worship here on a regular basis, with the beauty of the sea just behind the altar.

D and I went back to fetch more ribs for lunch from the Rib Man.  This was the busy scene as I waited for D in the golf cart.

We went back and forth a number of times to deliver the kids and all their luggage to the ferry with the  golf cart.

It was very hard to say good-bye to the kids as I was so sad that their time had gone so quickly.  But like the ebb and flow of life, while we bid farewell to some, we said hello to others.  We had a second task to perform at the ferry, as my brother, his wife and the Wee One’s other Grandma were arriving that afternoon!

We had a brief time to while away between ferries so we headed to the Fisherman’s Co-op with J2 and the Wee One to sit in the shade and enjoy a cervesa.  The latter were staying on the island for another five days and moving into the Roca Mar with J2’s Mom.  After we delivered them to their hotel, we made one last trip around the tip of Punta Sur before returning the golf cart.

After wandering around Centro for a bit we decided to see if J2 and the Wee One had settled into their new digs okay, but the room was silent and we didn’t want to disturb the baby if she was sleeping.  We headed towards the marina and Playa Sol to catch the sunset and were drawn into Marina Muelle 7,  a place that we had walked by many times but never stopped.

Even though we love our Sol and vino tinto, these cocktails were calling our names.

I opted for a mojito served in what I call a fishbowl chalice (just the way I like ’em).  I even eat all the smashed up mint.  D gabbed the camera and took this rare photo of me because he said that my drink matched my dress.

We felt very luxurious, sprawled out in beach recliners and watching the sunset with no plans for dinner, no plans for a rendezvous, no plans for anything except savouring the moment.  And just when we thought we had enjoyed the most amazing sunset and it could not possibly get any better….

…it went and did.  So it is, on Isla.

When I am back home and in the city, I sometimes have popcorn for supper.  This is when I have no one at home to cook a nutritious meal for, D is out of town and I am feeling particularly worry free.  A popcorn supper is symbolic for not really needing to give a !@#$ for anybody but me.  D and I were feeling this way on this evening.  We toyed with the idea of going many places for supper and in the end decided to pick up some papas fritas at La Lomita and share them on the walk home.

Lo and behold, Veektoria (the way the Islanders love to pronounce Wee One’s other Grandma’s name), J2 and the Wee One were waiting for an encore of La Lomita’s Garlic Shrimp that J2 had enjoyed so much on our first night on the island.  So we got to have a little visit with them after all, only to find that they had been steps away from us the entire time, enjoying the sunset over mango margaritas at Bally Hoo.

We meandered back to our fabulous little apartment and enjoyed a glass of wine, all alone under a canopy of stars, so different from our northern sky back home.

Kath’s quote: “Second star to the right…and straight on ’til morning.” -Captain James Kirk, Star Trek

Love-that is all.