I am just posting like mad today

It’s like Twitter up in here.

I just wanted to point out my lovely new tag cloud, to the right on the sidebar there. My most common tags are buzzing around like little annoyingly compulsively categorising bees.

I love the word bees.

I also love the fact that in the tag cloud, it looks like I often tag “organic pants.” Amazing.


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.


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.


The plight of the non-foodie

The other day in my cooking course I admitted to my class that I take shortcuts while cooking, shop at Metro, have only boiled my own stock once, and generally don’t like to take all that time to do the slow, hand-made-with-extra-love thing. They looked at me like I had just punted a newborn organic free-range kitten into a flaming pit of shark’s fin soup (which is delicious with some ground bald eagle). I’d forgotten I was in a room full of organic locavore foodies, and to them the confession that I occasionally eat frozen pizza was high treason.

My prof had asked whether everybody adhered to the local-farmer’s-market-sustainability agenda while cooking, and had emphasised the fact that not doing so does not make you a horrible person. She set me up. According to the death glares sent my way via the rest of the class, my favourite hobby is tearing the ozone layer with my teeth while filling rivers with pesticides and killing good, honest, filthy-handed farmers with my city ways and convenient luxuries (like Pop-Tarts. Luxurious, I know).

I’m sorry I don’t have enough time, patience, money, desire or ability to cook and eat the way you want me to. But to eat the way I do is as much my decision as your vegan lifestyle is your decision. If I want to pay less to get more food that lasts longer without spoiling, I will do so. Modern farming evolved to keep up with city lifestyle; if you want to live off the land then a big city really isn’t the place for you. Kudos to you for growing your own herbs and small vegetables – like I said, I don’t have the patience for that. I respect your eating decisions. I’d appreciate if you would respect mine.

Besides, it’s not like I’m this guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaLpVzPxY6w 

P.S. Current food terminology is highly inaccurate! “Organic” is defined as anything that lives and grows. “Chemical” is defined as everything. Oxygen is a chemical, this is why it is a major part of chemistry. Hydrogen is a chemical. Carbon is a chemical. Combined they form carbohydrates – what plants are made of. Every plant and animal is organic. Every plant and animal is chemical. If you grow a corn stalk chemical-free then you are growing it without air and water. You cannot have an inorganic potato, there is no such thing (unless it is plastic). [/rant]