Rice and Bananas, Tea and Coffee

We're only a few days away from arriving in Toronto and settling back into the old apartment. Just in time for garden planning and seed buying... one of the many ways home is tempting us to come back. Of course, I will dearly miss our year of adventure, and apologize in advance if months from now, I still seem worlds-away distant or lost in thought. To be honest, the thing I love mostmostmost about travelling is not marvelling at historic temples, hiking in dense jungles or wandering through grand museums. For me, its doing those basic, everyday things we all normally do without much thought, because when you're in a new place, these tasks are suddenly so different that you immediately feel like you yourself are new, reborn as a child of sorts. Interactions with people, getting from place to place, using currency; it feels familiar, and yet totally fresh and kind of amusing. Food is another thing of wonderment - new produce, dishes, smells and table etiquette. Even the familiar staple foods from back home... seeing them in their raw, living, plant form at their tropical source is a delightful and curious thing. Here I would like to share a few of these moments, of those foods that even a strict Toronto locavore may find hard to resist.

Rice. A staple food to billions of people, and the perfect food when you want to eat a million of something. Owing to my Asian heritage, I've known this little pearl of a grain f

or as long as I can remember; it has been the colourless background to a zillion

meals in my lifetime. When I was sick, rice gave me an easily digestable soup (in the form of congee). When I was dieting, rice gave me a low-calorie, gluten-free snack (in the form of rice cakes and crackers). Rice has always been there for me, like a true pal. Yet only until recently have I touched a living rice plant. Now, rice has given me an unforgettable picture of south Asia: the vivid green colour of endless rice paddies.

Bananas. Everyone's favourite peelable raw fruit actually comes in a ton of varieties. Banana trees grow farmed or wild in the tropics, and fruits develop from the large, singular "flower" which droops from the tree stem and hangs in mid-air. The young flower on its own is edible, say, in a Thai or Lao style salad or soup. But when left to mature on the tree, the flower's outer "petals" wither and fall off, each layer revealing a neat row of curved fruits which grow meaty and green.

Tea and coffee. Two of the world's most popular drinks, source from two of the world's most unremarkable-looking plants. Why or how did someone figure that drying, fermenting and roasting their plant parts would yield such a highly-addictive, flavourful brew is beyond comprehension. I can tell you first-hand that a freshly plucked tea leaf is tough, fibrous and lacks any distinct or pleasant taste. Similarily, the white flesh of a coffee berry smells just like nothing. Unlike any of the aforementioned crops, coffee seems to be the only one that the locals themselves don't consume regularly. Another by-product of our strange global food economy.

See you back at home!

Delicious Murder - Part Two

Okay, so you're a meat eater. You eat cow, pig, fish and chicken meat; maybe even rabbit, lamb or deer. Perhaps you don't eat certain animals because of religious rules. Or perhaps because something is just not quite right about it. Or maybe you're a person that would try anything.

I thought myself to be a rather courageous, adventurous eater. Recently, I tried horse meat in Russia, yak meat in Mongolia, reindeer meat in Finland, and kangaroo meat in Australia, taking some care to consume animals that are common and plentiful, and not rare or endangered. I've always scoffed at people who refuse to eat certain animals simply because they feel some special affection towards it. Oh, a lamb or rabbit is too cute to eat? And just because a pig is somehow not as cute means you don't mind eating it? They are still two living beings, said the left-hemisphere of my brain. What's the difference between killing one animal or killing another?

When I read in my China guidebook that there was a food market in Yangshuo that sold dog meat, I knew I had to see it for myself. Before we get into this subject further, let's get one thing straight: most Chinese people do NOT eat dogs. One last thing: be warned that there is a rather graphic photo below, so please do not continue reading if you may be bothered by it.

This food market was like no other I had ever been to, on my travels or even in China. It was in a dark warehouse, there was blood on the floor, and even the air felt thick and heavy. The butcher stalls in the back were mostly selling poultry, but some had dogs and cats. The dogs were all of the same breed - a white, short-haired dingo-type dog. There were live dogs in wire cages under the tables, and roasted dogs hanging from hooks at the front. It was fascinating and horrifying. I took a couple of quick, out-of-focus photos, and made a beeline for the exit.

Having grown-up in a culture where dogs are man's best friend, this experience really spun my head around. Even if I had mentally prepared myself, I don't think I could have walked up to the stall and paid for a piece of take-out barbeque dog, let alone stuck around to gawk for a bit longer, especially with caged dogs looking on. The whole scene seemed cruel and unnecessary.

The same question from before stuck in my mind: what's the difference between killing one animal and killing another? I didn't have any reaction to the chicken stalls at the same market, with their stacks of caged chickens against the wall and their displays of delicious cooked chickens. Is it just a matter of getting used to eating new and different animals? If so, where is the line between civilized, moral human beings and murderous cannibals?

Delicious Murder - Part One

The ethical treatment of food animals is one important consideration in deciding whether or not to eat meat, but it seems most people are happily ignorant, perhaps so that they can continue to eat their favourite meaty foods without their conscience spoiling the fun. It certainly doesn't help that those do who speak up for animal rights are demonized in the media as psychotic, emotionally unstable women or effeminate men. Yet I think we can all agree that caging animals in highly confined and unsanitary spaces, or administering death in a way that causes prolonged pain and suffering is not cool, dude.

But if the animal was raised in a natural environment and killed in a humane way, are we free to feast without guilt? My personal opinion: if you can raise and kill the animal yourself, thus fully aware and involved in the ethical questions and ends of your actions, then yes, you can eat that animal with a clean conscience.Sounds straight-forward, but I myself have not had the chance to kill an animal to eat. During our travels through the countryside of Mongolia, I learned that even watching someone else do the dirty work isn't so simple.
The Mongolian nomadic people rely on their herds of animals for surviving in their harsh, unforgiving landscape. We were staying at a ger camp with a family that owned goats and camels. Our group of 6 tourists decided that we would purchase a goat for $60, and have it killed, dressed, cleaned and cooked to feed us over the next few days while we were camping in the countryside.
A smallish goat was presented to us for inspection. Our approval meant a death sentence for this young animal. After we gave the go-ahead, the goat was immediately flipped on its back, and held down by two men to prevent struggle or escape. I watched the goat squeeze its eyes shut as one of the men used a sharp knife to make a 12-inch cut along its belly. The man then reached his arm inside the goat, stopping its heart for a clean and quick kill. The dead goat was carried inside a ger, the skin removed, innards and flesh cleaned and prepared for cooking. Keeping with the Mongolian tradition, all parts of the goat are used in some way. It seemed clear that this was a very ethical and humane way to eat meat. The animals are free to roam and forage the grasslands for most of their lives. The actual kill is quick. And for these nomadic people, the animals serve as one of their few sources of nutrition. Yet for a traveller like me, who spends most of my time in places where non-animal sources of food are readily available, this goat's death seems like a big sacrifice in comparison to the small luxury of short-lived, tasty enjoyment. The feeling of guilt was stronger than I imagined. Could I have abstained from a few meat-containing meals to preserve this goat's life?

Freegans and Friendship in Scandanavia

As a long-term budget traveller, I am quickly learning the skill of stretching the money we have. This has been especially important in Scandanavian Europe, where everything is more expensive than we are used to. For example, a regular coffee easily costs 5 Canadian dollars. Luckily, with the help of other like-minded folks, we've had some great meals that have cost us zero currency units.

In Denmark, we find out that our new Danish pal is a foodie of sorts. While he works on cooking us a huge pot of pasta with bacon and rose sauce for late-breakfast in his tiny kitchen, he pulls out a handful of green leaves from a bag. He explains that it is a culinary plant is known as "ramslog" (the 'o' has a line through it). It tastes peppery and onionish, is relatively uncommon and mostly obtained by wild foraging (which is where this bunch came from).

In Norway, we meet an American traveller who looks like a young, blonde, smaller version of Woody Harrelson. He comes up with the brilliant idea to quell our midnight hunger pangs by foraging for food in the FREE section of the hostel kitchen, where other travellers have left food they no longer wish to carry with them. We made a large pot of spaghetti by combining a family-sized portion of instant noodle soup, one packet of instant ramen noodles, a generous dash of cooking oil, and a handful of mysterious vegetable-type powder. The result is an intensely salty, gooey, and slightly off-tasting pot of noodles. It was both filling and amusing.

In Sweden, the famed Scandanavian cold and rainy spring weather finally caught up to us. We hid out in our hostel for too much time, I regret. We found that the hostel kitchen had an amazing selection of free food, including cocoa powder. This discovery awakened my longing desire to bake. We end up finding flour, margarine, salt, sugar cubes, and strawberry jam... the makings of chocolate thumbprint cookies. These freegan cookies were shared with all those lingering around the hostel after dinner. One nice Danish couple lovingly placed their cookies on their pink lunchbox so they look like a pair of eyes.

In Finland, we spend our week there couchsurfing with 3 different hosts. Our first host was an energetic, young hippie couple who was preparing for a raw food diet. Their indoor garden of exotic chili pepper varieties, among other edible plants, and knowledge of wild foraging was very impressive. We went on a foraging walk, where we tasted a variety of edible plants, and collected some leaves for one of the best salads I've had in a long time.

A huge thank you to all the travellers who share their food with others, instead of letting it go to waste. A big bear-sized hug to all of the gracious hosts, who welcome and feed travellers and vagabonds with food and tales. We continue to be blessed with the generosity, laughter and friendship of the people we meet.

Local Food Action - Europe Edition

Hey blog-readers! It's been a while. I'm in bike-friendly Copenhagen, Denmark, and have been travelling for over 6 weeks now. The signs of spring are all around, and it's hard to suppress the desire to garden. I thought it would be nice to give a few quick photos and quips to show you what our European brothers and sisters are doing on the local food scene.

In Ireland, there is a nation-wide campaign to support Irish-made products to help boost the economy from within. In the edible realm, a special green logo was developed to help consumers quickly identify the homegrown/produced products: "Love Irish Food". We read about Irish farmhouse cheese in our guidebook, but it was quite hard to find in the supermarkets. After a bit of research, a quick email and driving around in circles in the Irish countryside, we found ourselves in the company of the lovely folks at the production site of Cashel Blue cheese. Our host confirmed that their incredibly creamy blue cheese is not only made and packaged on location by the employed local community members, but all of the milk is sourced from their neighboring farm. We spent a couple of meditative days with beautiful, enlightening beings at the Jampa Ling Buddhist Centre, a few hours northwest of Dublin. The centre has an amazing garden space, where they grow edible and medicinal plants. When we visited in chilly mid-March, only the rhubarb was showing signs of growth. Every Wednesday morning the residents spend a few hours working in the communal garden. Workshops on gardening and foraging are also held here.In Germany, it was love at first sight for Berlin. A city that is bursting with history, art, and is just so goddamn cool, we were not the only ones floating on cloud nine. We formed a crew of equally smitten Europeans and North Americans, and spent days and very long nights laughing and exploring the city together. One of my favourite nights was when we cooked a communal pasta dinner in the hostel kitchen. There's something magical about sharing food with people that I can't find the words for right now.We also stopped over in Hamburg for a few days to visit a couple of friends we met in Scotland a few weeks earlier. This wild port city is home to the Sunday morning St. Pauli Fischmarkt (fishmarket), where Saturday night drunken revelry can continue on well after the sun has risen. Live music, beer, and food vendors keep the mood lively and the crowds happy. The fish sold here is often caught in the waters just behind the pier, and some vendors were hawking their fish like an auctioneer. Given that I don't understand German, I could only guess what the commotion was: the vendor slowly and loudly fills a plastic bag with a variety of fish from his stand. When a buyer from the crowd is satisfied with the selection and named price, they step up and pay for the bag of fish. It was brilliantly simple, and highly entertaining. Until next time, happy trails and guten apetit!

Pots, Jars and Bottles

Last Friday, my partner and I decided to take a day trip to Prince Edward County, and see what “Ontario’s new wine region” and “one of Canada’s top escape destinations” was all about.

We ended up visiting about 8 wineries in “The County”, and taking home 18 bottles. Honestly, the wines were hit-and-miss… most were just okay, and surprisingly expensive (average mid-$20 per bottle). The best wine, by far, was the 2008 Unfiltered County Chardonnay from Norman Hardie. It was described as having an unmistakable note of “gun smoke”... how could I resist? It was bold, intensely flavoured and a real pleasure to drink.

Almost all of the wines sold by the wineries we visited were VQA-certified. Some of these VQA wines contained grapes from Niagara, some contained grapes from the County but not grown by the winery itself, and the rest contained grapes grown by the winery right in the County. Aside from being a badge of distinction, being VQA certified also allows the wine to be sold directly to restaurants (versus having to go through the LCBO).

We also visited the Highline Mushroom Farm. But don’t be fooled, as we were, by the name: this farm is actually an industrial complex, employing hundreds of people and shipping mushrooms to all over Canada.

As we rolled up with great reservation into the parking lot, we could smell what only can be described as rotten cabbages and compost. The farm’s “sales office” was a small corridor, where an elderly lady wearing a hair net pointed us to the stand-up fridge where the small selection of mushrooms-for-sale were kept. We bagged about a pound of portobello and shiitake, costing us only $6.

After stopping in Wellington for lunch, we popped our heads into the museum. They had a small exhibit on canning, to reflect the County's long history of industrial canning. I thought these directions for How To Can Chickens was particularly neat:

We also spent some time in the local library. I found this old gem, The Laura Secord Canadian Cook Book, which dates back to 1979:

Near the back pages of the book were recommended set dinners, one for each Canadian province. The Ontario Dinner included "Scalloped Turnip and Apples" and "York County Corn Bread"... neat-o. I also found a recipe for Toronto Pie, which is "a delicate, hot-milk sponge cake split and filled with raspberry jam".

Overall, it was a lovely day in Prince Edward County. If you’re looking for a wine-touring day trip from Toronto, I might encourage you to consider the more established Niagara region, but the County surely offers a refreshing change of scenery.