Yay!!

Okay, so I promised to write about my last food class, and how my presentation was based on Dio de los Muertos. But may I interrupt that announcement for another announcement? Good, ’cause I’m gonna.

I’M GOING TO THE FINALS IN U OF T IDOL!!!!

Okay, awesome. Fun times, I can eat dairy again, all is well. (I don’t eat dairy before a performance. It drives me nuts but at least gummy throat is one less thing to worry about come showtime.)

So for my final Cook the Books class at U of T, my group presented on Barbara Kingsolver’s non-fiction work, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle about her and her family’s year of eating only food they either grew themselves or traded for food that their neighbours grew (like a chicken for a lamb, or eighty pounds of tomatoes for the equivalent in salad greens, that sort of thing). We thought, great, give us the presentation on local food in December. But, as it turns out, our local farmer’s market The Brickworks (shuttle running from Broadview Station on the TTC) was teeming with local produce.

We managed to put together a Dio de los Muertos feast for 40 which included traditional Pan del Muertes, not-so-traditional sweet potato quesadillas, handmade tortilla chips and homemade salsa (our professor’s contribution), and not-even-a-little-traditional baked apples. Paper skulls adorned the room, along with an altar that we prepared with a centrepiece reflecting the four elements (because it was too hard to represent the 150+) and a motherflippin’ pinata. WE HAD A PINATA. I think that counts as an instant A.

The pinata was full of seeds (contributed by our Chef) and we had soil in which to plant them so our classmates could take them home and continue the local-food journey, even living in the city. Someone quipped that “oh no, the SOIL isn’t organic!” But of course, our group thought of that already, and yes, the soil WAS organic. So there.

The tea we served with dessert was an artisan tea, foraged by a native Canadian woman in the woods of Northern Ontario. It was, according to Hart House’s dishwasher, “like drinking a forest, yes?” Yes.

All in all, a good time was had by all. And I will admit, though somewhat begrudgingly, that not all locavores are snotty arrogant holier-than-thou hipsters. The farmer’s market was pretty cool.

AND I’M CONTINUING ON IN U OF T IDOL!!!!!

Pedantic rantic

Today in my Shakespearean Sonnets class, a gentleman referred to Shakespeare’s language as “Old English.” In response, I attempted to make his brain asplode with my eyes. Thankfully my professor saw me glaring death-darts at the student, and helpfully stepped in with “Actually, Elizabethan English is quite modern. It might be a little beyond the grasp of our tongues, but it’s certainly not as old as English gets.”

And this the week after exploring agenbite of inwit, which isn’t even Old old English, but rather, Middle, and still about 300 years before Shakespeare’s time. If only people took more time to study the history of English