Archive for June, 2010
I thought I might actually lose some weight this week. Ha! Instead I’ve become hooked on peanut butter toast, those chewy-salty peanut granola bars, and Oreos with 2% milk. When your very best choices are the snacky things, you tend to go a bit overboard. Or I do, anyway.
Damn you, Mr. Christie. You make good cookies.
I’ve been running on fumes this week. (Literally-I haven’t managed a shower in two days.) I haven’t been keeping up with the conversation here or at the Week in Their Kitchen blog as much as I’d like to. Today I didn’t have much time to spend trying to figure out what to do. I thought it was going to be a can of soup night. But I pulled out the thickly sliced zucchini and mushrooms in tomato sauce I made earlier in the week, thinking I’d put it on pasta. But it was so nice and chunky… I warmed it in a little baking dish, made some wells with a spoon into which I cracked a few eggs, and baked it. The eggs are tiny – rolling around in their styrofoam egg container with the expiry date hand-written on it in marker. I wonder if they are from someone’s backyard chickens?
You guys. I can’t believe how good this was. It was brilliant. I am so adding this to my regular repertoire, and not even changing it when I have access to more ingredients.
I’ve made eggs in Pipérade before – with peppers, tomatoes and garlic – but I don’t recall it being quite this good. Perhaps it was the time the vegetables had to spend in the fridge.
It was simply a zucchini, package of mushrooms (and OK – an onion – only because it was on the countertop on Monday and Mike unknowingly chopped and tossed it in, thinking it was with the rest of the stuff) and a shake of dehydrated garlic (one of my three spice choices) sauteed in a skillet with some canola oil. I poured a can of the plainest tomato sauce overtop and let it simmer, then it spent a few days in the fridge. Once the eggs were cracked in, they took about 15 minutes to bake in a 400ºF oven. Wowzah.
We ate it on toast, which was part of the appeal – I’m a fan of bread dragged through thick tomato sauce – and this was almost sloppy-Joe-esque, only better. And what a great, cheap, meatless meal – like eggs on toast for grown-ups. So long as you have tomato sauce, it could be made from any number of wilting veggies.
Speaking of. I know the Calgary Food Bank has become a sort of dumping ground for produce that is unsellable and often on the verge of composting itself. Plenty of companies (generously?) donate what’s garbage to them to the food bank, much of which is on the verge of unusable or already slimy – I’ve seen staff and volunteers out back, sorting through heaps of compost, opening packages to dump out the contents and filter out the plastic packaging. They really don’t need to be spending time and resources sorting through garbage so that whatever is compostable makes it into compost instead of into landfill.
So while we’re collectively eye-rolling over plantains and mushrooms and expired coleslaw (which is dated May 25th, but I ate again tonight, and it was just fine) I’m glad that some of this is being used – clearly plenty of it is perfectly edible, despite its poor aesthetics. We consumers like our produce to be plump and fresh with nary a blemish.
Which brings me to the topic of food waste. It’s something I’ve wanted to address for awhile – I have plenty to say on the subject, but for now I want to toss it out there for you to comment on. Every month, residents of Toronto toss out 17.5 million kilograms of food. (I’m sure statistics for Calgary are similar.) About a third of food purchased in the UK is thrown out every year – that translates to about $19.5 billion in Canadian dollars. Part of the problem is best-before and use-by dates on packaging, which isn’t regulated by any governing body and so determined by the manufacturers, most of whom undoubtedly would like to see a faster turnover of their product. Part of the problem is planning, and ease of accessibility, and sheer volume of food we all keep in our kitchens. (Do you know exactly what’s lurking in your fridge?) And buying more instead of using what we have.
Discuss.
June 03 2010 | breakfast and eggs | 29 Comments »
You know what I love about this experience? The reminder that there is SO MUCH FOOD in the kitchen even when we’re convinced that there’s not a thing in the house to eat. If all I had was a styrofoam package of sad-looking mushrooms, milk and dry pasta in the cupboard, I’d order in.
But wait – before I get to the mushroom rotini, I have a confession. W had an apple today.
He has been wondering why he can’t have any apples. He’s ecstatic over the sudden surplus of packaged cereal bars, so he’s not suffering. He can’t wait to have Kraft Dinner, especially with hot dogs(!). But he’s accustomed to eating a few apples and pears per day, including a bowl of apple slices at bedtime. It feels odd to tell him he can’t have fruit. We have no bananas, no smoothies, no dried apricots. I’ve tried to explain why, but his 4 year old mind isn’t quite grasping the concept.
Of course, clients of the food bank likely have to explain to their kids with some regularity why there isn’t enough or they can’t have the foods they want.
So today we went to the opening of the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Farmers’ Market – a tough place to go and not buy anything – and were chatting with Kris Vester (from Blue Mountain Biodynamic Farm) at his stall. W eyed a basket of organic apples and asked if he could please have one. He hasn’t had an apple in days. I looked at Kris, who knew about the project. “If I give him one it won’t count, right?” he offered. Technically, yes. But who’s to say that the child of a food bank client couldn’t be offered an apple from a kindly farmer? And really, denying a 4 year old an apple is not going to help get any point across here. It would be a little ironic, wouldn’t it?
So W had his apple. I bought a fresh tangle of greens and a bunch of chocolate mint for my sister, picked up a bag of organic barley flour and a dozen beautiful eggs from Kris’ mom (for next week) and we went back home for dinner empty-handed.
I had to cook up the remaining (and rapidly declining) 4 packages of mushrooms, which were like clowns coming out of a Volkswagen. I sliced and cooked up two batches in my cast iron skillet with a generous drizzle of canola oil, salt and pepper. (I would have loved to add a blob of butter, but got a pound of stick margarine that I can’t bring myself to eat or serve my family. I can’t believe they still manufacture this stuff. It’s a block of trans fat. I’ll spare you the rant.)
Anyway. I cooked the mushrooms until they released their moisture and then started to brown, then sprinkled a spoonful of flour overtop, tossing it around to coat the mushrooms. I poured in 2% milk until it bubbled, adding a splash more at a time as it thickened. As I did this, I boiled some rotini, then dumped the drained pasta into the mushroom pan and added plenty of pepper.
It was good. Mike was in heaven. (W was not a fan.) Had I been making this under my own authority I’m sure I’d have added herbs and cheese – I love the reminder than plain food is delicious. I should know this, but I still get caught up in the herbs and spices and other additions.
So my McGyvering has been successful; but I’m a food writer. I wonder how many people would be able to do the same with what they have.
I’ve offered in the past to compile a cookbook for food bank clients, a collection of simple recipes using ingredients commonly found in food bank hampers. Often there will be a surplus of uncommon foods (read: plantains) that people have little experience preparing (last week it was eggplant) and sometimes the staff at the food bank winds up looking for easy recipes online to pass out to those on the receiving end of such. I offered help in that regard too – perhaps in the form of an ingredient-du-jour handout or element of the website? But this all assumes that people are interested in recipes.
Not all food bank clients have the time or interest in cooking – many just need to eat. This is not at all a criticism of those who use the food bank – not everyone in general has the motivation to learn how to cook. Or to actually do it. Thus the crazy popularity of convenience foods, grated cheese, pre-diced potatoes and the like. And it seems to me those going through crises might be even more strapped for time and energy than most.
We could, of course, turn our attention to the bigger problem – and the structural solutions – but people use food banks for a variety of reasons, and there will always be people in need. A number of you have asked what I think is the best thing to donate, based on this experience. I’ve only been at it a few days – and what clients get in their hampers varies greatly, even within the same day. I’ve always been inclined to contribute beans and raw ingredients, but healthy prepared foods seem like a better idea- so people don’t wind up with pancake mix and no syrup or Helper with no hamburger.
I may myself start buying multivitamins for children, just to cover their bases if they do need to live on largely empty calories. (Which, it must be said, many well-to-do children are doing as much of.) It said in our debriefing that vitamins wouldn’t be necessary, as all hampers are nutritionally balanced. As great a job as they’re doing at the food bank (and they really are, especially considering the fact that they rely on donations and receive no government support on any level), I beg to differ. Lots of plantains, mushrooms and coleslaw (or whatever has been donated on any particular day) is a good thing, but not varied enough to be considered perfectly balanced.
Of course it might be according to the Canada Food Guide, which classifies those bubblegum pudding cups in the same category as milk and cheese…
June 02 2010 | leftovers | 23 Comments »
I had the great honour/pleasure/good fortune of interviewing Barbara Kingsolver a year or so ago (when her book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle came out) and she said one thing in particular that stuck in my mind: we all have a childlike approach to dinner, she said. As it comes to be mealtime we think, what do I feel like having for dinner, rather than, what do we have? She was referring of course to eating locally and seasonally, but it certainly applies here. We’re so accustomed to deciding on dinner based on our moods and cravings.
Yesterday I was panicked at the prospect of getting through a dozen plantains. Today at 5 o’clock, as I made plantain chips, I thought – aren’t we lucky to get to sit around the table and enjoy such a dinner together, even if it’s not something we might have gone and chosen ourselves.
And really, I’m glad to have been pushed out of my comfort zone. The boys were out front kicking the ball around. Some neighbours stopped to chat. I brought out some freshly cooked and salted plantain chips. Everyone munched and chatted, and the plantains became a conversation piece. In how many countries of the world would this have been considered a feast?
Their presence also made me consider any immigrants who use the food bank and are happy to see something familiar in their bins. They might pick up a box of Kraft Dinner or cotton candy Jell-O and ask the same: “what the hell do I do with this??” Really, I want to be more familiar with cooking plantains than with Jell-O.
Ben considered himself lucky to get Top Dogs for dinner. We turned the TV on to the news and coincidentally a commercial came on for them as I was slicing plantains. Ben, watching it, suddenly turned and asked, “what’s for dinner?”
“Those,” I said.
“REALLY?? ALRIGHT!”
Then he walked over to the table and asked, “what’s with all the candy?”
Ali, Ben and Emily came for dinner tonight before soccer, and we had hot dogs topped with baked beans on peppered hoagie buns, and coleslaw (our ingredient freebies include oil, vinegar and sugar, so I shook some up in a jar) and plantain chips. I like that there is enough here to accommodate a few extra for dinner. I imagine kids who are clients of the food bank might like to be able to invite their friends to stay for dinner once in awhile.
Plantain chips are quite delicious – sweeter than potatoes but not quite sweet potato-esque, they remind me, flavour-wise, of raisins. The secret is to slice them as thinly as you can, then cook them in hot canola oil (I heated a half inch until hot but not smoking) until deep golden. Drain on paper towels and shower with coarse salt.
My chef/neighbour/friend says they’re great in a curry. I can’t wait to try it. Just as soon as I have access to coconut milk and rice.
Over at Family Kitchen: (Low Fat!) Two Bite Brownies
One Year Ago: Bacon Bison Avocado Sandwiches
June 01 2010 | leftovers | 12 Comments »
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