What does Canadian summer taste like?

The tastes of Canada

The calendar and the rotation of the sun and moon might deem the Summer Solstice as the official beginning of summer, but if you ask most Canadians, I think they’d tell you that summer begins on the May (Victoria Day) long weekend… at least the idea of it does.

This week, I want to talk about what the season tastes like. In a time when we are banding together as loyal Canadians and supporting each other, maybe we’ll share some more favourite regional foods? Local specialties might be hard or expensive to duplicate, but let’s see what we discover.

Our traditional cuisines across the country have been influenced by the original Indigenous population, as well as the largest groups of immigrants, namely the English, Scottish and French. In certain parts of the country, other influences were added as people travelled further west, and our country grew.

Over time, new influences have been added of course, and innovations have combined flavours from unique cultures to create exciting fusion dishes. I like to highlight the traditions to give us some connection with our past and to recognize the efforts of the pioneering forces that created our wonderfully diverse country.

I hope you’ll indulge me for a slightly longer missive this week so I can include something from each region.

The North is a place many of us don’t know much about. It is rich with game and seafood that differs slightly from further south. Arctic char and cod, even caribou and moose we might have tasted but have you had foraged flavours, like morel mushrooms, spruce tips or birch syrup?

If you haven’t been to the Atlantic coast, you might not have tried dulse, a type of seaweed. It is a popular snack and flavour enhancer in that region, as in Ireland and Iceland. It is highly nutritious with protein, vitamins and trace elements. You can have dulce crisps (similar to kale chips) or use it powdered or flaked in all kinds of dishes.

Fiddleheads are another summer specialty from the east coast – the young shoots of a type of fern plant. They must be boiled first to be enjoyed, but I think they are a delicious fresh early taste of summer.

Quebec of course gives us maple syrup and other maple products (the Indigenous communities first froze the sap to extract the syrup). There is not just poutine (which by the way translates to “mess”) but many other dishes with a French twist. Tourtière (a ground pork meat pie with cloves) is one of my favourites.

Oh, and Montreal bagels are a unique item too – not the same as New York bagels (Montreal bagels are denser and a bit sweeter with a chewier crust, being boiled in honey water and then baked in a wood-fired oven.)

Ontario is an agricultural powerhouse so there are many local foods. The traditional ones most known are quintessential items for many tourists—peameal bacon (called “Canadian bacon” outside Canada. This is pork loin rolled in cornmeal and cooked in slices) and butter tarts. The recipe for butter tarts was first published in Ontario but they are said to have been invented in Quebec and are popular with bakers across the country (with and without raisins and/or nuts).

Across the Prairies, the influence of immigrants from Eastern and Northern Europe shaped the cuisine. Manitoba has the greatest population of Icelanders outside Iceland (of which my family is part). Many Icelandic pastries and vinarterta (a layered fruit-filled torte) are common in bakeries. Ukrainian and Polish families shared pierogies alongside English and Scottish families with their Yorkshire puddings and roast meats.

German, Belgian, Czech, Dutch, Mennonite, Jewish and even American families settled in our Midwest as the railway expanded and farmland was cultivated. Local ingredients like Saskatoon berries and Winnipeg smoked goldeye added to the innovations.

In Alberta, of course we know meat is the specialty with beef and pork. I think we could include pancake breakfasts as something common too, not just from wagon trains but still today as a Calgary Stampede tradition.

Many Chinese families opened restaurants in towns across the country, giving generations of Canadians a sort of re-invented Chinese food as they cooked for a new audience. Canadian Chinese cuisine has its own regional specialties. Did you know the “Chinese buffet” first started in Vancouver’s Gastown when restauranteurs started feeding the Scandinavian lumberjacks working at the mills there?

Here in B.C., salmon is a signature food, prepared in many ways. Spot prawns are also a regional feature this time of year. Certainly, the influence of Asian immigrants has created opportunities for new dishes and flavours to become popular, like a B.C. roll at a sushi restaurant (made with cucumber and BBQ salmon with the skin on). Our Okanagan fruit is world-renowned. Lesser known, but also part of our immigrant culture, is Doukhobor borscht. The Doukhobor communities provided an early vegetarian influence in many interior communities.

Phew, what a bunch of creative, community-minded folks we seem to be, sharing recipes of all kinds as we built a nation. No wonder we are called a cultural mosaic.

I’ll finish with one last signature item, an anomaly as it’s not like most of the homegrown foods featured but it speaks to a time when church suppers and coffee klatches were a common way of building bonds.

The Nanaimo Bar was the result of various women’s recipes during the 1940s and 1950s, many submitted to community cookbooks and local newspaper recipe contests.

It was known as a “dainty”, a rich, sweet treat one could easily transport and once cut in squares, hold in one’s hand and nibble. It features five different brand name products that would simplify the process of baking the recipe.

It seems even when we first fell into the commercial side of convenience foods, our traditional tendency was to create something polite and at least a little elegant in its understated presentation.

That sounds quintessentially Canadian to me.

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

How does one get 'qualified' in the kitchen?

Learning life skills

I read an article recently about the woman who designed the prototype for the basic modern kitchen, created for efficiency.

It was fitted with built-in cabinets and drawers that optimized storage and, for the first time, showed a continuous counter with a tiled backsplash. Minimum movement was required to complete all the duties of prep, cooking and washing up. It was a whole new concept.

The catch was, the woman was not a housewife or a mother—she didn’t even cook for herself. Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky designed her “Frankfurt kitchen” in 1926 as part of a social housing project. Her goal was to make life easier for working women. It made me think of how we consider people qualified for projects, and then it occurred to me, how do we decide we are qualified for life?

I suppose all this existential thinking came from memories of my mom as Mother’s Day approaches. She isn’t here anymore but I never cease to wonder at how she managed, a young mom at 19 years of age with me in tow. My grandma (her mom) was a great cook apparently but lost her appetite for cooking when she started to drink, so my mom didn’t get much formal guidance in the kitchen.

In the 1960s and 1970s, when I was growing up, there was lots of cooking information out there in magazines and, of course, moms shared their successes. I remember my aunt and my mom trading recipe cards and clippings of things they found that worked. My mom had what were called “beef and pea pod recipes,” ones that called for beef and pea pods but if chicken was on sale and broccoli looked better at the grocery store, then we had the converted recipe for dinner.

I didn’t feel like my life was lacking in any way as a kid. My mom stayed home until my younger brother and I both were well into elementary school, so she made oatmeal on winter mornings and made cookies for our snacks, as well as making dinner.

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I learned she was embarrassed to serve “finn and haddie” for dinner. I loved it and never thought canned haddock served with toast points and stewed tomatoes on the side was considered a dish for poor people. It must have been all the love and laughter in our house that outshone the lack of money.

I remember my mom telling us too, she was horrified to show us caterpillars and daddy long-legs spiders in the grass but felt that it was the kind of thing to do if she was to instil a sense of curiosity and wonder in her children, which she did very well. She hadn’t a clue how to be a “good” mother, she simply had faith that lots of love along with the basics of food, shelter and education would make for good children.

She and my dad had a special bond too. I’m sure that made a big difference. He didn’t know how to be a dad either—only 22 and just out of university but full of dreams with promise and full of adoration for my mom. He was not an adventurous eater in the beginning (how could he have been, there wasn’t much adventurous food in Winnipeg in the late 1960s). But that would change.

After a business trip to California in the mid 1970s, he and my mom started to make salsa and create homemade fried tacos (we had Pilsbury biscuits rolled in cornmeal as shells and ground beef with cumin and a dash of cayenne cooked in the electric frying pan.

When a purchase of frozen breaded pork cutlets on sale turned out to be a bad idea, they decided to make peach chutney to go with them as an upgrade. The bought a case of fresh peaches and mason jars. The chutney was fantastic, but I think we threw out the last few cutlets. They were like pressed sawdust.

Daddy encouraged us to cook for Mom, too. One year for Mother’s Day he cooked dinner and my brother and I made chocolate mousse. It had a few teaspoons of coffee in it, which the recipe said would add depth of taste. Mom didn’t bat an eye but just asked enthusiastically what the intriguing crunchy element was. I told her about the spoonsful of coffee grounds and she just smiled.

I guess it was my mom who taught me we qualify ourselves in the kitchen and in life when we jump in with both feet. If we are optimistic about the results and have the clear intention of having a good time, then things usually turn out pretty well.

At the very least, it makes for great stories around the dinner table.

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

Cook often, be happy and live long

Joy of cooking

You can pay it forward with food

Pay it forward Day

Do you remember the book and movie from a while ago about the young boy who came up with the plan that people could accomplish amazing things if they helped people “just because”?

The only caveat was the person they helped also had to “pay it forward” and help someone else. It’s the old-fashioned “golden rule,” guaranteed as part of the process.

This is a great idea, don’t you think? It’s something we could put to use every day if we set our minds to it. We can start next Monday, April 28. That is global Pay It Forward Day.

One way the pay it forward concept works easily is with food. You can improve someone’s day with food in many ways and sharing food is fairly easy—you just make more of something than you can eat.

I think it’s even more meaningful (not to mention easier) if you share something you are involved in, so I am going to help you along with a few ideas.

Let’s make it easy to start, gently warming you up to the idea. How about the next time you’re at Tim Hortons, or your favourite haunt, you buy someone’s coffee, donut or whatever. If you aren’t there with a friend, try buying one for the person behind you in line or for the regular staff member who serves you. You will be surprised how good it makes you feel to see the surprised smile on their face.

That was mostly painless, right? Most of us can spare a buck or two. (If you are more focused on charity, you can put your efforts into the Food Bank box at your local grocery store.)

Now let’s try something with a bit more oomph—bring in a plate of cookies or Rice Krispie squares—or even veggies and dip if you want to be healthy—to your office. Let people know you are sharing “just because.” You can even make up a silly reason, like celebrating “High Five Day” (I used to do that at my office and it was always fun).

Hopefully others will follow suit and you can have a “treat day” or a ‘recipe swap” every month, or even every week. Again, this idea can be focused on a charity if you want. You could decide to donate a meal to the Food Bank once a month or donate something out of your grocery cart.

My chef hubbie donates a package of pasta and a jar of sauce with every dinner he cooks. It is a small amount to add to the bill and feeds a family of four. It is a real feel-good thing and generally we want that feeling to continue so we will find ways of keeping it going.

Now we “kick it up a notch,” as chef Martin likes to say. How about you pay it forward with your kids? If you don’t have kids, borrow someone’s kids. I’m serious, get nieces or nephews, neighbours’ kids or friends’ kids to come over and teach them how to cook something.

You know the old Chinese proverb, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” Engaging people at any age in the fun of cooking is a valuable experience and one that no one will regret spending time doing.

I am including a recipe for a tart I made last weekend for guests we had at Easter dinner. An old friend of mine called to say she was in town and would love to see me. She made time on a busy weekend with other commitments, so my gesture was to invite her and her man for dinner.

I used the first of the rhubarb out of our garden for a filling but this recipe works with any fruit that is not too juicy. It’s fun to impress anyone with and it’s easy to make.

Here’s hoping you can share smiles with lots of people, whatever way you choose to pay it forward.

Spring Fruit Galette (makes a tart big enough for six people)

Pastry
450 g/7/8 cup all purpose pastry (you can use whole wheat if you want to be healthy. It creates a more nutty flavour to the pastry)
30 g/1 tbsp sugar
Pinch of salt
200 g butter
60 mL/ 2 tbsp lukewarm water

Filling
1-1/4 lb fruit, chopped
1/2 cup sugar
Grated peel of 1/2 lemon
¼ tsp cinnamon

Optional: Four pieces of candied ginger, chopped fine

Wash and chop the fruit into bite-size pieces. Toss it in a bowl with the sugar and let sit for 30 minutes to an hour.

Mix the dry ingredients together for the pastry. Cut in the butter using a food processor or pastry blender or a fork. Work until you have the consistency of coarse oatmeal. Add water gradually and stir gently, till dough clumps up and holds together. Gather all crumbs together and create a ball. (Dough can be chilled for 30 minutes or kept refrigerated for up to three days).

Preheat oven to 180 C (375 F)

Roll out the dough to a large circle (40-45 cm (16-18-inch) diameter.)

Add the lemon peel and cinnamon to the fruit filling and stir to blend.

Place dough on baking tray (Using a silicone mat is a good idea, so it doesn’t stick if the filling juices leak).

Pour filling into centre of the dough circle and gently fold outside edges in, leaving a peek-a-boo centre of filling and folding over the dough so it holds together.

Bake on the bottom rack (so the bottom isn’t soggy) in preheated oven for approximately one hour. Filling should bubble and pastry should be golden.

Serve with whipped cream or ice cream if you really want to go over the top.

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