A neighbour of ours, before he started a micro-brewery, farmed a piece of land near Vancouver. His sister, as I recall, was in charge of the garlic, and one day he dropped a bag of scapes off for me. It was rather kind – he also dropped off a piece of horseradish root a while later – that was tasty, too, but the subject of another post. The scape is the flower of the garlic plant and it comes up all of a sudden in late June. Apparently the idea is that you cut the scapes off so as to give more energy to the garlic bulb. cut off the scapes and you get bigger garlic.
Some people just compost theirs, but Steve even gave me a recipe: Ready for it? Chop up the scapes, put them in a food processor with a handful of walnuts, big pinch of salt… run the processor and drizzle in oil until it turns into a paste. Toss with freshly-cooked pasta.
Brilliant. I remember being totally blown away. Three (well, four and five if you count the Parmesan cheese on top) ingredients, plus some pasta.
So supremely easy and so tasty. Every time I see scapes I get hungry – even photos of them from a year ago.
Here is how this worked – I pulled out a pan to fry up some spuds that I had cooked the night before. I figured I could give them a bit of heat in some butter, crisp them up. You know, like dinner hashbrowns or something like that.
Dinnertime was looming and I had leftovers to heat up.
Right, the pan was hot, and full of butter or oil or both… And when I dropped in the potatoes, they totally filled the pan. Crowded it, I daresay.
As a consequence the potatoes heated up but I didn’t get nearly the browning on them that I wanted. It was an epic failure of not very much at all, because no one sent the dish back, and there were no complaints among the distinguished diners that evening.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-06-12 13:20:112020-06-12 13:20:55Did it again
Not so much the phone (which is great) but what it’s sitting on.
I’m on a vintage kick. I have been on one for the last three decades, so I’m rather used to it, but…
The ringer on this phone could wake the dead. It was epic. You can see how the new phone number was added when the phone was moved from one house to the next – who takes a phone with them when they move? Well, if you’re my grandmother-in-law, you do. The new number was added in her careful script in 1979. She passed away in 2010 and I have no idea where the phone is now. Hopefully still causing regular heart-attacks when it rings – and confounding young and old with how to actually use it.
For the purposes of this blog, though, I want to talk about what the phone is sitting on. It’s a TV tray. I’m not entirely sure what the actual origins of a TV tray are, but it’s my understanding that people would eat their pre-made TV dinners in front of the television and they needed something they could easily pull up so they could dine in comfort, and have somewhere to put their drink – if it was my grandmother-in-law it was a rye and fizzy grapefruit soda. Poured liberally. Bit of ice. Don’t knock it, she lived to 94.
But I digress. The TV table was a flimsy, lightweight ‘solution’ to the boon that was TV dinners. I wasn’t around in the 1950s when they were invented, but I have it on good authority that they were pretty awful and haven’t improved much in the ensuing years. Regardless, there is an entire aisle in the frozen food section of my grocery store devoted to pre-made meals, so even if they are awful, they’re still popular.
I do think it’s interesting that furniture was created so we could eat dinner in front of the TV, rather than at the dining room table or kitchen. And I also think it’s interesting that the technology to eat in front of the TV has gone from this to just holding it on our laps. We have regressed, furniture-wise but the pre-made meals are better. Who would have seen that coming?
Don’t forget to collect the shells and put them where they belong. No, not there. Yes, there.
Here in Betty’s kitchen there is always something to snack on. It’s pretty dangerous, but when we come to visit, we are allowed to not eat all the pistachios, apparently. I struggle to keep my hands out of the bowl, though.
If I were a younger man, I would be reaching for the muffins in another bowl, but I can resist those these days.
It’s hard being in someone else’s kitchen, especially if you want to cook. I have known my mother-in-law for 25 years and she has always had this kitchen. It underwent a fairly big renovation a few years back but the mixing bowls are still in the same place they have been for ever. And yet, I struggle to remember where they are.
I’m out of place here. The coffee is different, the ingredients are different and in different spots (see above). The Drawer of Requirement is still the same, though. Every kitchen has one of those.
But we have created epic meals here over the years, she and I (and my wife, other family members). I have had a lot of fun and there is a ton of history here, at least for me and I’m sure everyone else in the family.
So I can tolerate (barely, but that’s my inner-snob talking) my mother-in-law’s choice of coffee, and the fact that when she renovated her kitchen she didn’t put in a heated floor so the tile in the wintertime feels like you’re wandering around on 18-inch square blocks of ice. I can also overlook the fact that she has never had a toaster and she uses a toaster-oven to toast bread, which takes forever and regularly sets off the smoke alarms. Don’t get me started on her dull knives or the fact that her non-stick pans are ‘still good’ more than a decade after they stopped being non-stick.
I can tolerate all that (not that it’s much, really – and let’s be honest here – she is perfectly happy with the kitchen the way it is)
It’s easy to tolerate because of that bowl of pistachios. The one that is always on the counter, saying, “welcome”, and “dig in” and “lower right corner, next to the baking pans. How long have I known you? How many hours have you spent in this place?”
I was asked to photograph Doreen McKenzie Sanders quite some time ago. She was, by this time, in her 80s and she was a delight to spend the afternoon with. I’m not sure who had the idea of photographing her with an ice cream cone – the store was a regular haunt with her, it would turn out – maybe she had the idea.
The shoot was fine – one of my best images came from it that day. It’s still in my portfolio easily 15 years later.
…but I want to talk about the ice cream for a moment. I want to talk about how we all have our favourites. When we went to shoot Doreen had the strawberry she is pictured with here. In fact, we had to have 2 cones to finish the shoot. She was allowed to eat the second one. Strawberry has never been my favourite ice cream flavour. Not by a long shot. I like strawberries and everything, but more in the context of breakfast. My ice cream choices are either salted caramel or raspberry cheesecake. My older daughter, who actually works in an ice cream store, would gag at those flavours, while chomping on Mango. My wife might agree with my older daughter, unless there is hazelnut in the store. My younger daughter? Well, when she was younger it was bubblegum. Now I’m not sure.
Regardless. We all have our favourites. And we are all convinced that our favourite is the best and that all the others pale in comparison. Food can be like that. Heck, life is like that but at least with food it’s generally a lot less problematic.
I’m sure there are people who don’t like watermelon. Just like there are some people who don’t like coffee or tomatoes. They’re strange and probably untrustworthy, but what can you do?
However, for the rest of us, there are some universals. Watermelon is a universal. Put out a plate with kids and it vanishes in a cacophony of slurps and drips. If the older, non-seedless version of watermelon is involved, expect seeds to be spat at each other. Or flicked.
All bad behaviour is forgiven, though. Because it’s kids eating fruit. Raw. And here’s the kicker – I was listening to a radio show on the most nutritious fruit. Obviously guava came first, but second? Watermelon. The interviewer commented to the scientist that he thought watermelon was like flavoured water. The scientist agreed and was as surprised anyone how well it fared.
So, not only is it kids voluntarily eating fruit. It’s kids voluntarily eating really nutritious fruit. The perfect situation. Too bad it seems to happen so rarely. One always hopes that soon the kids will be banging back shucked oysters or eating a quinoa salad without any complaint, but while one is hoping for that, one might as well buy a lottery ticket and ask Santa for a Pony.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-28 10:21:122020-05-28 10:21:13Some things are universal
The grain elevator in Dorothy is pretty darn cool. Check out those hills in the distance! I was driving by with my brother-in-law a few years back and we just had to pull over to take a photo. As far as I know, it’s still there and in OK shape.
But it brings up a question – one I can’t answer here given my lack of time to write, but one that I’ll pose anyway – how many of us actually know where our food comes from? In this case the grain was taken from the fields right nearby and then stored until the train showed up. Then (I believe) it was brought by truck to the elevator and the conveyor in the elevator would bring the grain up and fill the railcars. At least that’s my understanding. This elevator isn’t for storage – it’s for loading rail cars.
Then it would get moved off to market. There are all kinds of other themes here, too – transport, pooling of product, monocultures, organic farming (or the lack thereof)… The fact that it’s near-impossible to grow just a little bit of wheat and deal with it in any profitable way given the way the modern food markets work…
I took the photo for a number of reasons – namely that it was a really interesting view and I’m always worried that these vestiges will pass quietly away before they can be documented. I didn’t really take any time to think of the actual use of it until I wrote this post. Form following function, but beautiful nonetheless.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-26 10:28:582020-05-26 10:32:00Where does this food come from, anyway?
Not that it’s that earth-shattering. I live in Canada and dontcrowdthepan.com was already taken. But the link to the .com version of the title doesn’t get you anywhere. Maybe it’ll come up at some point. Maybe not. I’m not going to spend too much time worrying about the .com aspect of the site.
The saying comes from the idea that if you’re browning a piece of food in a pan and if you pack in too many pieces of food too close together (crowd the pan) then you won’t get good browning on the food. I’m not sure what the rationale is for this – scientifically – but it’s true. Happens to me all the time.
There is a bit more to it than that, though. I really struggle with getting good browning on my food when I’m cooking it. Maybe I’m too impatient. Maybe I pack in too many pieces of food in the pan. Maybe the pan isn’t hot enough. Maybe it just isn’t a priority.
It’s a simple thing to remember, but really hard to do in practice.
No one ever complains, either. If I don’t crowd the pan it’s for my benefit, not for my family. As long as I can get something on the table – that’s the priority.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-21 11:17:082020-05-21 11:17:09Guess I should talk about the title of this blog
You can tell it’s organic because of the grass below the trees. In a ‘regular’ orchard the grass doesn’t grow because they put down some sort of pesticide to kill it. Not sure why they even bother.
Organic food is something I don’t know much about – of course, that never really slowed me down in terms of making comments. I don’t go out of my way to buy organic unless it is bananas which, for some reason unknown to me, always seem to last longer and taste better.
Here are a few issues with organic: One, the grocery store (nearby me, independent, they have local produce unlike the Safeway not too much further away that brings in produce based on their supply chains in the USA. We get cranberries from Massachusetts. We have some of the largest cranberry bogs in North America about a 40-minute drive from my house. Yeah) …anyway, my local grocer – has organic produce but because they fear that people will try to pass it off as non-organic and pay the lower prices – have it wrapped in all kinds of plastic and labels.
I would sooner eat food from a non-organic farm or not at all than have to deal with the sort of packaging they put on that stuff. It’s organic, but it’s also encased in plastic. Kind of ironic, really.
Generally, I like local, fresh, and recognizable produce. Seasonal is nice, too. Raspberries in January are going to be expensive and unimpressive, no matter how cool it is to see them in the store. How they grow them, pick them, package them, fly them from Bolivia to Vancouver, drive them to the grocery store, stock them, and mark them up for less than a zillion dollars a pint is beyond me. But I ask the same questions about Australian wine.
Back to organic. I have had great organic produce. I have had some really forgettable organic food, too. I just wish I understood it better.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-19 21:44:232020-05-19 21:50:38Organics. The organic orchards do look pretty…
So my mom (hi mom) never cooked with salt. As in, for my entire childhood all of the food I ate was basically unsalted. We had a salt shaker on the table but it was one of those things that was made in the 1920s and in all likelihood the holes weren’t big enough to allow safe passage of most salt crystals. I don’t recall it ever being an issue. I don’t think my mom was trying to keep us from the evil of salt, it’s just that she never grew up with it herself, and she’s rather sensitive to it. It just wasn’t a priority.
In high school my P.E. teacher was joking around one day, talking about sitting in front of the TV, dipping vegetables into a bowl of salt and eating them. I remember going home and trying it out. I was amazed – it tasted incredible, right up until I overdid it. Story of my life, really.
My wife is a huge salt fan – for the last 25 years, everything in my kitchen has taken on new life with a sprinkle of salt. In the ensuing years my mom has let up a bit as well. She has some salt near her stove which she (judiciously) uses here and there.
I can overdo it, though. I remember making dinner for my folks and it was one of those situations where the sum total of all the salty ingredients (feta cheese, olives..) along with my sprinkling of too much of the salty stuff made for a meal that had me reaching for several glasses of water soon afterwards. Even I thought I overdid it on that one. Live and learn.
Mom ate it without comment. That’s love for you. But I knew enough not to repeat that episode. And I did, right up until I didn’t and over salted a steak I was cooking for them a while later. Again, no comment from mom. Still amazes me.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-15 15:00:112020-05-15 15:00:12Salt. Simple and yet, so complicated
