Colourful world of vegetables can be a sight to see...and eat

Rainbow effects of a garden

Photo: Contributed

I have been looking at the garden seed catalogues trying to plan what we will grow this year in our wonderful garden.

It seems every year the dilemma of deciding becomes more difficult. First, there’s growing what fits in your space – I wouldn’t suggest trying pumpkins if you are on a balcony, for example. My problem, or I should say my blessing, is I have lots of space. Coupled with enthusiasm, that can be dangerous for a gardener.

Next, there’s choosing from the endless options, even just one kind of vegetable. I know we live in a world where technology allows life to go at the speed of light, but really, do we need to change the colour of our vegetables? Where does it stop?

Don’t get me wrong, I am not talking about Mother Nature’s variations, like green and yellow beans. A little variety is a good thing – the spice of life and all that. However, what is the point of having a funny-coloured veggie if it doesn’t stay that colour when you cook it (I see you, purple beans). Also, if the colour can be peeled off, does that even count? I know the skin of many vegetables holds nutrients, so perhaps that is a sign we should eat things like purple carrots raw and unpeeled.

Part of me is intrigued by these fantastic foods. There is a Roald Dahl aspect to the idea of a garden that has an imagination of its own, like the Giant Peach or Charlie’s Chocolate Factory. My advice from past trials is to choose wisely so you can maximize your exotic efforts. Often it seems to take extra energy for the plant to produce a more unique product.

Sometimes the Chef (my husband) just smiles and shakes his head, but I enjoy the taste of lemon cukes and green zebra tomatoes. He did use some of our weird and wonderful tomatoes in his menus last summer and he liked the striped Chioggia beets we planted. However, purple dragon carrots were more impressive in name than flavour, and orange cauliflower was just slower and more finicky to grow than the white variety.

Creativity is required when appreciating Mother Nature. What would a garden be without a little experimentation? Over the centuries, gardeners have learned how to cross-pollinate and breed plants and animals for the most favourable characteristics. Fellows like Gregor Mendel even applied this to genetics when he experimented with his garden peas.

Did you know some of the vegetables we now see as funky alternatives are actually originals? Carrots started out purple and were only bred to be orange for marketing reasons. They were first grown for their seeds and leaves, as many of their relatives are still—dill, cumin and fennel are all in the same family of plants.

Carrots are recorded as being purple in the 10th century in the Middle East and Europe and it wasn't until the 17th century in the Netherlands that orange carrots appeared in quantity. Breeding of different colours and varieties has occurred to make carrots sweeter and less woody as some root vegetables can be, but the orange colour was more appealing to markets in the western world - settlers took orange carrots to England and America in the 17th century and the rest of course, is history.

Of course, there is also the advice that “eating a rainbow,” with different coloured foods gives our bodies a wider range of the nutrients we need for optimum performance. Even if you don’t get into crazy variations, a colourful garden bounty (or grocery cart) will serve you well.

I guess at the end of the day (or the summer), I should just marvel at my harvest – even the green vegetables that grow quietly in their rows. Having a colourful garden plot is another way to salute individuality.

Besides, can someone who, as a young girl, liked to wear red and pink striped socks with her favourite purple jumper really judge what colour a carrot should be?

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.

Fun in the kitchen, any day of the the week

Sunday treats any day

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Sunday is most people’s day of rest and often, indulgence.

Having worked in the service industry for decades, Chef and I are used to our rest day activities happening whenever we have a day off. Since Spring Break is upon us, I thought I’d offer some of my Sunday-type ideas. Items like baked goods for treats or brunch and sumptuous dinner ideas might work any night if the routine is different.

Sunday brunch and Sunday dinner often involve a complex combination of lovely dishes but many of them are rich, or take a great deal of prep time. I’m offering up a bunch of examples that might fit as part of a Sunday spread, but they’re just as wonderful on their own.

Let’s start off easy. A fun item to add to any breakfast or brunch is a muffin, and I have a great, healthy (and also tasty) recipe – Banana Bran Muffins (link: . Leftovers are great to take to work with coffee, too.

I made Chocolate Coffee Cake this week. A friend posted this popular recipe from the Better Homes and Gardens blog. I thought why not? It’s an all-afternoon project with dough that needs rising, but if you don’t mind the start-and-stop, the result is wonderful. Martin, my husband, loves coffee cake, and this one passed his standard.

Cookies are always good to have on hand, and fun to share at the office or with friends. One of my favourites is a recipe I made up on a whim—Tropical Delight Cookies. If you are feeling down about not getting away to a more exotic destination, these might help lift your spirits. This is an easy recipe that the kids can make, too – just in case they are driving you crazy being underfoot at home.

If you’re more the savoury type, but you still want to feel that exotic sense of wonder, how about chicken with cinnamon and dates? It’s a great way to jazz up any night’s dinner. For something still a bit exotic with fresh flavours, I like a pasta dish – my pasta with chickpeas, lemon and parsley is a winner for vegetarians and omnivores alike.

A tradition that we had when I was growing up was for each of us kids to cook one meal a week. Spring Break is a good time to start that if you haven’t already (Sundays work well, too). Kids can start out chopping veggies or assembling salad, and then as they get older (and taller) they can work their way up to preparing dishes for the oven, or cooking at the stove. Carrots with coriander and caraway is a great first recipe for kids—simple, fast and tasty.

Even something as straight-forward as flavoured popcorn can be a family cooking experience. If brunch or dinner seems too much, try just getting everyone together for a pick on Netflix and then adding a bit of zip to your popcorn, pretzels or nuts. Spice blends are fun to play with too. You can try the ones in your cupboard (Cajun popcorn or pretzels? Smoked salt on toasted almonds?) by just adding a drizzle of butter or olive oil.

Toasting nuts a bit first really brings out their flavour – about five minutes at 400 F will usually do it. If you don’t have any mixes, think of flavours you like. Spicy hot? Herbs? (Rosemary popcorn is fun). Cheese is a fun addition too – the powdered parmesan you get works great (look for real cheese, not the processed stuff in a can). You can mix it with other flavours or just add it on by itself. Nutritional yeast flakes also have a cheesy kind of flavour, and they add a dose of vitamin B12 and essential amino acids as a bonus.

Any effort you make in the kitchen is worth some quality time – it might just be a moment with a cookie and a glass of milk or a cup of tea, but that can be a wonderful way to unwind. You might even get to read a few pages or meditate. And, if you can share that moment with a friend, you have a chance to connect and catch up. In our busy world, that’s worth a few calories any day, if you ask me.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.

Popcorn at the movies is as traditional as cake on one's birthday

Movie snacks

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I love going to the movies.

There is something about sitting in the dark with strangers, all immersed in the same experience. The big screen and Surround Sound envelop us and even the snacks are part of the ambience.

For me, popcorn at a movie is a required component. My Hubbie is more of a chocolate and licorice kind of guy, munching only the occasional handful of popcorn.

Regardless of the snack one chooses, its enjoyment can provide the final step in immersing oneself in the movie. Munching M&Ms or gnawing on a bite of licorice can help manage the stress of a horror movie monster’s massacre and nibbling popcorn can aid in maintaining one’s heartbeat at a reasonable level during fast-paced action scenes.

The smell of the treats, the movie soundtrack music that leads us in, the darkness that envelops us and the unfolding of the story on the screen – it all helps to take us away from the regular world.

With the Oscars last weekend, I got to thinking about how much the movie-going experience has changed.

I have always been a fan of the cinema and the collective cinematic experience. I don’t mind being able to cuddle up on the couch at home and watch something, but the impact is not the same. For me, seeing a movie on the big screen is also about respect. I grew up seeing my parents work in the industry as part of a movie crew, creating the “smoke and mirrors” with all their hard work and collaboration.

I believe their creations deserve to be seen in their original format to get the full experience.

I suppose I’m just getting sentimental as I age. Much about movies and the movie-going experience has changed in my lifetime. “Extreme” theatres and reclining seats, movies about video game characters – all are things that didn’t exist almost 30 years ago when Hubbie and I started our movie date night.

I heard a statistic recently that the average person visits the cinema twice a year. Hubbie and I are doing our best to keep our local movie theatres in business. We go almost every Tuesday. It is our date night—a chance to hang out together, get a bit dressed up and have an interesting conversation afterwards as we share our reviews. It’s also a reason to eat a healthy salad for dinner… so I can have room for popcorn at the show.

I’m old school, so part of me thinks it’s outrageous to pay so much for popcorn and a fountain drink. But it’s the only time I buy these thing and I know it helps keep those young people working at the concession. That, and I just think a movie deserves popcorn. Am I right?

Part of me likes that the popcorn kernels still stick in my teeth the same way they always have. I smile when I hear what I consider as the outrageously loud sound of my Hubbie opening his bag of licorice. I still close my eyes when the trailers are shown so I don’t know too much and spoil the fun later. And I love that Hubbie and I have a kiss before every movie starts and we always save a few popcorn kernels for our Labrador, Freyja.

I know that it might seem odd for a foodie to be so nostalgic about movie snacks but for me, they are an intertwined part of an age-old experience, just like cake on one’s birthday and s’mores around the campfire. The food goes with the setting.

I hope to see you at the movies soon. (You’ll have to get your own popcorn, though.)

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.

Marmalade memories of Canada's East Coast

Seasonal food rituals

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Being a foodie, I love to take advantage of the flavours of the seasons.

Here in the Okanagan, we are fortunate to have so many local foods we can enjoy. Summer is the obvious time to enjoy flavours that capture the beauty of this place and the richness of the bounty. But every season gives us opportunities for rituals that warm our hearts and bellies.

Spring is an exciting time, with burgeoning shoots at newly opened farmer’s markets and café patios warming up for guests. Fall is full of chances to preserve fruit and veggies, dry herbs and cook up a storm. Harvest dinners abound. In spring and fall, the environmental experiences of markets and al fresco dinners offer memories for all our senses.

In winter, it’s much harder to find fresh flavours and outdoor events are not a factor (unless you’re into après-ski s’mores, which would be great fun, I’m sure.) I have one ritual that involves all my senses though, and it’s one I cherish.

I don’t ski, but my love for jams and preserves does transcend the summer; my search for ways to capture sunshine through the grey days of winter is endless. So, once the treats of the Christmas season are nothing but crumbs in the cookie tin, I search the grocery stores for the winter treasure that transforms into sunshine in a jar – Seville oranges.

I know that marmalade is a bit like cilantro – people love it or hate it. Perhaps it is my half-Scottish heritage that puts me on the side of loving it. There are many recipes on the internet nowadays but when I first started making marmalade, it was because of an experience at a charming B&B in Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia. Good recipes always have a story and this one is a classic example.

I was on a holiday, biking from Halifax to Lunenburg. It was my first long cycling endeavour, and it was proving more strenuous than I expected. The best reward was the food we ate, and my enjoyment was heightened by how hungry I was after cycling more than 50 kilometres each day.

In Mahone Bay, we stayed at the charming Fairmont House, a former shipbuilder’s home that is still a bed and breakfast by the sea (https://www.fairmonthouse.com/index.html ). When we arrived at the end of the day, it was like drifting into a fairy tale, a quaint gingerbread-style house nestled in this picturesque harbour town.

The salty sea air made me think of fishermen out on the waves, busy with lobster traps and fishing nets and the sound of the ocean breeze seemed to sing a tale of adventure. The smiles on people’s faces as they walked through town told me this was a happy place.

The lady who ran Fairmont House then was British. She and her Canadian husband had met in England after the Second World War and had come to Canada together. She served a full British breakfast after our wonderful sleep in her delightful house, mentioning she made the marmalade she was serving. Of course, we got to talking about food.

I not only learned the secrets to her marmalade recipe (it takes three days to make and involves lots of scraping and chopping of peels), I also learned she and her husband had a romance worthy of a Hallmark movie.

Having the B&B was their passion project for retirement and that came through in the bright flavours of the marmalade. I was enamoured and asked if she would share the recipe.

I cherish that magical trip—the days of cycling many kilometres did get easier, and we had other memorable meals along Nova Scotia’s south coast. Mahone Bay remained a highlight and when we got home, I discovered a letter in the mail from Fairmont House.

I’m sure you can imagine my joy when I discovered it was the marmalade recipe. I glued it into my notebook and it has remained there to this day, splattered with the orange syrup from years of efforts.

I can’t find the Seville oranges every year, but this year I snapped them up as soon as I spotted them and this past week my house was filled with the bright aroma of oranges boiling on the stove. The colour of the jars was just like a sunny day, offsetting the dark clouds outside my window.

My piece of sourdough toast slathered thick with that delicious spread warmed my belly but even better was my warm heart, happy for a ritual that keeps those memories alive.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.