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!

Canadian Nom

I haven't had a butter tart for years. On a whim, I bought one at a farmer's market a few weeks ago, and POW!, the butter tart bender began. Since then, I have frequented many-a-butter-tart-shops, including The Bus Kitchen, Coffee Time, Treats, and Hannah's Kitchen. I've eaten raisin butter tarts, coconut butter tarts, but I seem to choose pecan butter tarts most often.

Fast forward to a different day. On a whim, I purchased a bag of Monforte's goat cheese curds at a Saturday market. Normally I buy them on Thursday, and eat them one-by-one while working at my desk in the office. But now I had them at home, and when I suggest eating them one-by-one, M shakes his head. A great idea starts to take shape... and POW! "No", he says. "We will make poutine."

Fast forward again to this morning. Daylight Savings Time blesses us with one extra hour, and we use the time to make two uniquely Canadian foods: poutine and butter tarts. Take that, Canada's Food Guide. Today is a day of eating brown-coloured, greasy carbohydrates.









The russet potatoes are boiled, and cut into fry shapes. While olive oil is heated up in a skillet, the mushrooms, onions and garlic are chopped up and cooked into a mushroom gravy. Potatoes are added to the oil, and deep fried until golden brown. The fries are blotted with a paper towel, tossed with salt and pepper, and arranged on a plate. Room-temperature cheese curds are added, and the hot gravy is poured on top. We both grab a fork each, and two heaping plates of vegetarian poutine are demolished in less time it takes to watch one episode of South Park.

While M succumbs to a food-induced coma, I get to work on the pecan butter tarts. The pastry is modified to a gluten-free version, using brown rice flour and tapioca starch. I opt for a corn syrup free filling, and substitute any shortening for mo' butter. These are BUTTER tarts, dagnabbit... though I am slightly put-off by the sheer volume of butter needed for this recipe. I also wonder what ingredients some of those cafes use, when a butter tart costs only a buck.









The tarts come out of the oven, golden hot and still bubbling. Unfortunately, the gluten-free flour blend I used didn't have enough gusto, and the pastry crumbles apart before I can even pop them out of the tin. Yet still, om nom nom.