Zucchini Mama

Okay, so I am making a concerted effort to buy more organic food. I want to know what organic ingredient you focused on, where you bought it, the cost, and what you made with it. I have been trying the sausages at ALKA Gourmet Meats 3642 W4th Ave. I bought two caribou with juniper berry( $6.45) and one venison orange and fennel ($2.53). The sausages are very lean, and braising them wasn't that successful. I ended up putting them in a tomato-based ghoulash with some kidney beans and savoy cabbage, which was better. I liked the caribou better than the venison orange-too much like an orange popsicle flavour to it. I asked him about rabbit-he said he's waiting to get some in that isn't frozen. The shop also sells things like preservative free organic deli roasts and sausages. I also discovered a spooky little cheese shop around the corner in that Jericho Centre mall. It smells kind of like cheese and roses when you go in, because they must try to mask the cheese aromas with a rose air freshner. It's very dim, and everything's covered with heavy plastic. The shop keeper reminded me of Mr. Bean-very sweet. He wanted me to sample everything-seems to focus mostly on British cheeses, but I bought a lovely soft Asiago from him-good for cheese and avocado bagel snacks. I didn't ask if he carried organic products, but I will, the next time I go. The East West Market is selling bags of organic lemons for $2.99, but the ones he had in last week were much nicer. Zuke

Everyone's a Critic I like to look for multiple sources of information when I'm choosing a place to eat. I want the word in press and the word on the street. What I want when I read a review is information. I want to know if I'm going to get my money's worth, and I want to know if anything is going to detract from the food. I like some background information on the cultural history of the food. I like to know what percentage of the food is local and/or organic. Eating is a very theatrical experience, so a restaurant can be compared to a theatre review: The waiters and diners are merely players and the food and drink is the action that keeps the play moving along. The decor and the musical score need to heighten the experience, providing mood and setting the scene, but they must not upstage the food or distract from the experience. There is a basic script that we learn in order to dine in an amiable manner. Well, there are many different cultural scripts, actually. I want to know that there is enough space for me to focus on the dialogue at my table, and not that of the table next to me. At Bin 942 I was subjected to a woman with beestung lips screeching " This food is too spicy. Take me home now! My wips are burning!" The space is so crowded I was cringing every time the waitress had to inch her butt past a customer's face to pass someone else a drink. The music was suitable for a kitchen hyper-buzz, but not for a front of house ambience. This is my opinion. I know some people like that sort of thing. I see food as something to be savored on many levels-others just see it as refueling before they go out dancing or to the movies. I want to know if my senses are going to be elevated by the food. I want to be warned about bad service. If I know that there is only one very methodical waitress for several tables at the Vignetta Zannata Estate restaurant (Vinoteca) on Vancouver Island, I will make sure my child is not tired and starving when we arrive. I will just take the time to enjoy one of the loveliest places to eat on the planet and watch the bees dip drowsily into the pink roses winding around the balcony of the vintage farmhouse. (Apparently they are chronically understaffed-totally not the waitress's fault, by the way. The food is very good.) I want diversity in the people who review restaurants. This is difficult, since people need to have a steady gig to make a living, but I guess I just want to see more print in general on the topic of dining experiences. I enjoy the view from insiders like Andrew who has a real gift for capturing the rhythm and energy of the dining room (please write a book), and I enjoy the view from an observant and sensitive outsider who knows nothing of food costs, but paints me a picture, and satisfies the culinary voyeur in me. The problem that I see with food critics who take themselves too seriously is that they tend to lapse into self-parody, (which can be entertaining in itself). In her book Cooking for Mr. Latte: A Food Lover's Courtship with Recipes, NY food critic Amanda Hesser comes off sounding like a petulant, spoiled little brat. She unwinds by going into a local bistro, and once they find out who she is, they ply her with their rabbit ravioli and other delights. She is miffed because she just wanted to be left alone. Oh, darling, my heart bleeds for you! I enjoy A.A Gill in small doses, but he can be wearing. I love the novel Eating Crow by Jay Rayner, in which an acerbic food critic repents for his evil ways and becomes a professional apologist-brilliant! Once you find out which food he eventually becomes allergic to, you even start to feel a bit sorry for the rogue. So I love eGullet because there is a diversity of opinion, and no critic can eat every dish on every menu in Vancouver, so the people here provide a really valuable service to the chow-obsessed public. Also, food is very personal, and one person's "ambrosia" may be another person's "meh". Canucklehead, Glass beehive-lovely metaphor! Zuke

Dear Mooshmouse, Well, I hope it lives up to their copy: "Architects, artists, models, film makers and other professionals trickle through the stone archway eager to start their day with the best pastries in Vancouver...." Umm, do models eat pastry? I thought one of the advantages of not being a model was that we get to eat the pastry that they don't eat. They get the celery and the carrot tops that we "other professionals" don't eat. And stop the press-this place receives deliveries from god herself: "At lunchtime the heavens open up and spill forth an assortment of casual gourmet favorites..." Anyway have you tried Mix yet (?), because I haven't yet come out here as a Mix addict.Their chocolate ripple scones are to die for, but they don't make them every day. I go across town anyway, just hoping there's one left. I had a meeting last night at Sweet Revenge on Main and had the chocolate pudding cake, which was good (lots of whipped cream). They brew their chai with cream and my companion liked the hazelnut chocolate rasp. cake. I also love the Faux French ambience and the Edie Piaf (et al) tunes. I think their desserts are good if you know what to order. Zuke

Junior, I can't believe Calories is moving downtown. I love Broadway. How can they abandon my favorite street in Saskatoon!!! My friends used to waitress there before the big reno. We lived a half a block away. I ate a lote of California Clubs on wild rice bread, black bottom cupcakes and turtle squares. Needless to say, I'm no longer a size 5! Does Remy still make that fabulous rabbit pistaschio terrine(or paté, I can't remember exactly)? Any chance we eGulleters could get the recipe? Marlene, if you can give us a rough idea of your route, maybe we can give you some tips. Zuke

M'd said: "We all need to realize that it is not just about what we BUY/CONSUME that counts but also how we BEHAVE on this planet that will see our fisheries survive. I move for a list of truley Environmentally Conscious restaurants to be assembled. C and Raincity have been mentioned. Who else?" I've decided that this is the year I get off my butt and start becoming a food policy activist. I've started attending food policy events and panels and reading up on food politics. I'm planning on organizing an eco-feminist dining club in my neighborhood to discuss issues around sustainabilty and to start talking to our governing bodies about what we as responsible consumers want in terms of food labeling, etc. There are many people in Vancouver who are well-versed in these issues. We need to get together and show leadership in these issues in Canada. I'm frustrated about how passive Canucks tend to be on these issues compared to the Brits. There are two food policy workers on city council. We need to develop a system that rewards responsible restaurants in Vancouver. Perhaps we could organize something with them. I plan on attending a city food policy meeting as soon as I get a chance. I want my child to be able to eat fish in the future and to participate in the food culture that we're sharing here together in these threads. Zuke

"Ahhhh... Eco Il Pane. Funny you mention them, I was just talking about them with my husband today as he was munching on a sour cherry and chocolate brioche from Sweet Obsessions (Trafalgars). I really miss their retail bakery AND their restaurant where Feenies use to be (before they changed things around). Where can I get their sour cherry and chocolate bun? I know where to get their regular breads but I've never seen those yummy buns sold anywhere! I use to also buy their pannetone every Christmas." Tokyogurumegal, the buns you crave are now sold by Chris Brown under the name "Arise". He used to co-own Eco Boleto and Eco I Pane. He e-mails me occasionally when he's doing a seasonal (Christmas, Easter, etc.) bake, but otherwise he is a regular at the Nat bailey's Farmer's Market and sometimes he's at Trout Lake selling all his breads, cookies, cake, and homemade jam. He is a lovely man. I saw a school teacher with some children asking the market vendors what time they get up in the morning before the market. Chris said, "Well kids, I haven't even gone to bed yet. I've been baking all night!" His grape bread is one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life. Zuke. P.S. I love shoes too. I spent all day yesterday in the shoe shops. I also preferred Trafalger's the way it was before-more like a konditerei.

Lunch and a Show My goal was to see the undergrad show on at Emily Carr since it was centered around the topic of food, so U. and I headed for Granville Island with the promise of a small toy leading him on like the carrot on the stick. I know I shouldn't do this. I know I'm setting him up for a life of rabid consumerism, but if I didn't use desperate measures he would never leave the house. Mea Culpa. We head to Go Fish for lunch and devour halibut and chips like the seaGullets we are. When are the fish tacos coming back???? It's sunny, but cold in the shade, so we put up our hoods and head back to the Island to buy provisions for supper. I love Oyama Meats, but get a bit overwhelmed by the choices, so I decided on one type of sausage and one type of cheese, which is all I can afford anyway. We get some date and lamb sausages and Drunken Manchego which we have for supper with some hazelnut bread from PICA. Thumbs up! Wish we'd have had a bit of good sherry to have with it. I hauled U. all the way over to Charles H. Scott Gallery and so we could take in the show. The first piece is a "mosaic" on the wall made of cornflakes, frosted flakes, fruit loops, and other breakfast cereal-kind of paint-by number style. He liked that piece, the photographs of cupcakes, (thank god he couldn't read the title!), and the letters on the floor made of bread. On seeing a wall covered with various shades of burnt toast he said "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" Most of the show takes food too literally, as a material for the work itself, or as a superficial treatment of the subject (pretty candies in a jar). There was the obligatory pile of garbage in one corner, and the obligatory terrarium of mold in another. It's hard to take a deeper look at the work when your four- year-old keeps saying "Let's get outta here!" and pulling on your sleeve. There were a couple of pieces I could have spent more time with. One was photos of "The Cupcake Eaters"-a young girl with tons of makeup on and a little dog who looked like they were sick from eating too many expensive sweets-a play on the Lotus Eaters, and a clever reference to the photos of drug addicts taken by well-known photographers. From there we went to PICA where we had our chocolate almond croissant and U. played with his novelties while I rested and watched a young man with lovely hands measure flour, butter, and sugar with elegance and precision-much more interesting than daytime t.v.! Zuke P.S. Love the bumper sticker at Go Fish: "Friends don't let friends eat farmed salmon."

Oddly enough, one of them does. I picked up The Dose today, hardy harr-that joke's already past its sell-by date- and found it to be a sophmoric rag full of entertainment gossip. Lo and behold there was a little blurb on a cool place to eat that was so forgettable, I went and forgot it. When someone from the other daily was asked on CBC radio why he thought the people of Vancouver would read his paper he said something like "Well, it's glossy and the ink won't come off on their hands." Uh huh.

Prasantrin, If you are in S'toon, or anybody else who knows, I have some questions about my old stomping grounds. Is the Genesis-macrobiotic and Chinese food-still open? How is the quality these days? Where is the best Vietnamese food in town? What's new on the cuisine scene? Every time I go back, I just eat at Calories (which has a great Schmoo Torte by the way), so I never get to try anything new. It surprises me that Saskatoon has the biggest people. It has such an active population-running, skiing, cycling. Zuke

Prasantrin, If you are in S'toon, or anybody else who knows, I have some questions about my old stomping grounds. Is the Genesis-macrobiotic and Chinese food-still open? How is the quality these days? Where is the best vietnamese food in town? What's new on the cuisine scene? Every time I go back, I just eat at Calories, so I never get to try anything new.

Tokyogurumegal, your mother was a woman after my own heart. After a long day at Granville island, my son and I shared a chocolate almond croissant with apricot glaze at the Pacific Culinary Institute. I lifted him up to see the chefs stuffing red peppers and pouring batter out of huge buckets. He especially liked the grand piano made entirely of chocolate. There are a few tables where you can have your post-shopping croissant and tea or coffee without going into the fancy part of the restaurant. I notice they are looking for some themes for dinners in the fall-could be eGullet potential here? I bought a loaf of hazelnut bread that was my favorite bread so far this year, and the prices are great. Zuke P.S. Hope you also caught from another thread my reccomendation of the u-bake croissants and pain au chocolat at Anona on Main Street. Take them home, thaw overnight and pop in the oven for a few minutes.

Ecco Boleto was where Feenies is now. Chris Brown still makes bread and takes orders for special seasonal items once in a while. He is a regular at the Nat Bailey Market-can't wait until it opens for the season! The first memory I have of Vancouver is that washroom containing the statue with a shield covering the naughty bits. I remember inebriated women in bright red lipstick lifting it up and gufawwing all over me. BZZZZT! A buzzer goes off inside the restaurant. We had taken the train all the way from Sask. My mother dressed my sister and I up in our homemade Holly Hobby outfits to go to this place (The Attic) because it had antiques, not because of the food. For some reason, the people running the place thought it would be fun to have us parade around the room banging on pots and pans. I thought, "Hmmm, avery strange culture out here, indeed." I was about nine years old. We got chicken pox on the train ride home. When I tell people this story they don't believe me, but now I can say I saw it on eGullet! I miss Surat Sweet on W4th run by the lovely man with the deep voice. He never made mango lassies unless mangoes were in season. His shrikand and his pumpkin desserts were lovely-Gujarathi cuisine. Shelora's exploits as a medieval serving wench reminded me of the time I had to waitress dressed as Minnie Mouse, but perhaps that's something for another thread...(It's scary how many men have a thing for Minnie.) Zuke

Prairie Food-Disjointed Meanderings Back in Sask., one of our German neighbours made this cheese I've never had anywhere else-it was made in an eight inch square baking pan-buttery, soft-I don't have a clue what it's called. They made it for the potluck supper at my parent's 25th Anniversary. It melted in your mouth. My mom made lentils, ham hock, and spaeztle, plum küchen, and at a recent fowl supper I had a dish called kläse, yet another variation on noodle dumplings. Let's not forget the Norwegian settlers-lefse, and krumkache, etc. There's also these little bread dumplings with beet greens cooked in cream (Ukrainian)...buffalo sausage with Saskatoon berries in it, rabbit terrine, freshly caught lake fish cooked on the fire, Doukhabor food-the best (the first?) veggie burger on homemade bread I ever tasted was in a Doukhabor restaurant near Castlegar, although there were lots of babas who cooked their bread in outdoor ovens in Sask., as well. Sunripened tomatoes with salt and pepper. Fresh peas from the pod. Chokecherry syrup on ice cream. Yukaflux-and if you know what I mean-you are hardcore rural prairie. My mom's chocolate fudge made with farm cream. Spicey stewed crabapples in the dead of winter. Moose, beaver, ducks, geese, and yes, even swan (in my great-grandma's time)-see Eating Swan thread in Adventures in Eating. Zuke P.S. Our perogies are so big...Mr. Maw:How big are they? So big you need a wide-angled lense and stand a country mile away just to git a good photiegraph. Makes Feenie's weenies look pretty teeny. P. P. S. Pam, what was the story behind the drugstore with the lunch counter that sold the infamous asparagus sandwiches?

One thing I miss from Winnipeg is Brad's burritos from Pure Lard with his wickedly strong Chai. Is there Icelanic food in the Peg? Zuke

Memories of Winnipeg's Fat Content (I starting writing this in my journal a couple of years ago, but dug it up for this thread.) Summer, 2002: President's Choice calls its featured cream cheese "Memories of Winnipeg". Has Winnipeg replaced Philadelphia as the origin of cream cheese? I lived in Winnipeg for two years in the mid-nineties, and to be honest, I can't remember its cream cheese, but I do remember its fantastic lesbian potlucks. "What is a lesbian potluck?" a friend in Vancouver asked me, as if it would be especially salacious and indulgent occasion. It consists of healthy comfort food served by lesbians. I am filled with a sudden nostalgia for warm nights with witty companions on the porches of a neighborhood called Wolsley that even has its own miniature folk festival. So after six years I was going back, back to the land of cold winters and asparagus and cheese sandwiches to perform my latest show and work on my next performance piece. Traveling is a lot different for me now that I must take along my partner, P. and my almost two year old son, U. We stay in a bed and breakfast where the owner has a full-time job, so most of the time breakfasts are self-catered. This is a brilliant stroke of luck, allowing us to relax and wake up where we want to and putter around at our own speed while we get ready to go out for the day. With a toddler, this kind of arrangement works well. I get up early, eat home-made strawberry rhubarb jam and bread, then get in a couple of hours reading a Gail Bowen mystery novel. I like a B and B generously supplied with mystery novels, especially the Joanne Kilbourne mysteries I love. So I ease into the day with a novel set in another place I have memories of, Regina, Saskatchewan. I make friends with the heroine, Joanne Kilbourne, professor, detective, and hip mama. I like the way she speaks her mind, even in situations where she feels uncomfortable she is honest and straight-forward. She's my grown-up Prairie Nancy Drew and I enjoy walking in her shoes for a few hours every day. When it's time for lunch we stop for Rory's sunburgers at the Underground cafe. The sunburger is just how I remember it, dense, nutty and seedy, slathered in dill mayonnaise. Dill is such a prairie herb. I realize how much I miss it and its connection to fowl suppers in Church basements. Rory's sunburgers are mythical, and I have heard of a folk singer from Toronto who orders a batch and flies them back to Toronto. I contemplate taking a bag of sunburgers back west with me. Sunburgers are best on that chocolate and buff-colored marbled rye Rory serves, savored near the painting of Joni Mitchell in the café's wall mural. Even though I didn't like the mural when I first saw it, I'm glad that it's still there after 6 years. After 6 years of flooding, fires, epic winters, and swarms of mosquitoes, Winnipeg seems to me a Biblical city, catastrophic in its extremes. And now the mayor wants to plop an arena in the center of town, in a kind of crude way a rookie paramedic tries cardio on a patient whose life is slipping away. We have a party with watermelon and sushi after my performance. It's a surprisingly good combination. Forget cream cheese, sushi is the big news in Winnipeg these days. I ask around about the hot places to eat and everyone says Wasabi's in the Village. As a Vancouverite I am a bit sushi-saturated and suspicious about Japanese fish on the Prairie. However, I trust my buddies so P., U., and I walk across the bridge into Osborne Village. The sky is beginning to pinken around the edges and the river is a swollen as the new moon. In a moment of hasty inspiration I suggest we sit at the bar so U. will be entertained. He hands his little soya sauce dish to the chef and demands "sushi!" So we order sushi. The shitake mushroom rolls are lovely. You can tell when sushi is made with care and precision as opposed to assembly-line sushi. The black and white sesame seeds were fresh and artfully applied. The sticky rice was perfectly cooked and the nori was not too wet or dry. We ordered a wakame salad, which was sticky enough that U. could use his chopsticks to maneuver it into his mouth. We applauded and with our cups of green tea we toasted his first successful chopstick endeavor. The wakame was chewy and the sauce flavorful and lively. I was beginning to think that Winnipeg sushi was a good idea after all. The dynamite roll, oshinko roll and the Agadashi tofu were all top quality. We were hooked! For dessert we went to an old standby in post-dinner indulgence: Baked Expectations. There must be cream cheese somewhere in their display case showing over 20? pies and cakes. There's whipping cream, for sure- mounds of it in my chocolate banana cream pie, which I share with U. and he wears a healthy portion of on his face. Calories? Fat content? Remember that whipping cream is mostly air. P. has a piece of chocolate mocha tort which is delicious and also loaded with whipping cream. I like their iced tea-made on the premises. U. colors with markers, while Peter eyes their breakfast menu on the chalkboard. On Saturday I've got to teach a workshop which I'm nervous about-terrified really. I'm not a big fan of teaching, but I have the women create and wear silly hats and we all have a good time. I enjoy seeing glimpses of their talent and potential as performers. We have to go junk shopping in the Exchange-some of the best second hand digging to be had in Canada. I notice the shops have become more upmarket. Junk is now more like "Junque" and I'm disappointed that it looks like Ragpickers now rents about half their clothes, as oppsed to selling them. However, I understand the business must survive, and it's sad that there is a finite amount of vintage clothing to be had in the world. Rumour has it the movie business is starting to splash a few bucks around which could mean the death of second-hand shopping in the Peg as it has in Vancouver. Now even movies are putting and end to the post-show auction and selling their used costumes on e-bay. This means that prices for vintage clothes will skyrocket. We find a couple of treasures at the Good Will store which hasn't changed much in 6 years, including a vintage doll with faded purple ribbons on her dress. Next, we go have another sun burger, 2 for the count. I am determined to have a date night, so after my research I decided we're wither going to a place called Fusion or Blaze. Fusion is closed Mondays, so we end up at Blaze. Blaze: trendy new colour scheme-chocolate and green-same old hotel-style generic booths. The art on the walls is a kind of Prairie abstract modernism with nostalgic landscape painting and a dose of Edward Hopper. I like it because it shows an abandoned landscape. People have left these buildings for an urban lifestyle where they can make a living. Our waiter is Chinese, sweet and very friendly. I order mushroom cakes. They are kind of a sweet way to start a meal, but I like them. The wine list is disappointing, but we go for a classic: Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc-very citrussy and refreshing on a muggy Winnipeg evening. I'm eating my fish and laugh suddenly because I realize it is salmon and I ordered trout, (the meat is pink). I waive over the waiter and say "Oops this is salmon, not trout, but it's all right it tastes good. He promises to ask the chef about it and promptly returns and says the chef is not there tonight, but the sous-chef will talk to me. The sous-chef announces earnestly "That is trout. I'll bet my life on it. I can show you the receipt." I was still unconvinced and make a note to do some research on the situation. Peter tastes it twice and pronounces it salmon. We have a nice meal, but in a grass is greener kind of way, I wish we'd tried Fusion instead... So, that's where I left it, because I didn't take my research any further. Can trout be pink? Does anyone out there know? Has anyone been to Fusion? Anyway, thanks for the Memories, Zuke P.S. You poor souls who have not had Schmoo Torte. I always thought it was from the Big Apple as a near-rhyme for "New York". We must have a Prairie high tea sometime, or "low" tea, however you see it! Perhaps a picnic in Van Dusen Gardens when the weather warms up. Beware of the online recipe with an onion in it. There is no onion in Schmoo Torte!

Chacun à son Chocolat I popped into Rangoli to pick up my favorite thing there, which is the Thomas Haas's Hazelnut Crunch chocolates with Vij's Garam Masala. Then, I slipped down the back alley, passing a can-collector, and headed for the Firehall Branch of the Vancouver Public Library. This may be the most comfy library in town-if you're looking for a place to read sans latte. Next, I take the bus to Arbutus and walk down to W4th to check for good second hand kids books at the Sally Anne on the corner of Cypress. From there, it just happens to be a short stroll down the hill to Pane from Heaven where the much loved Chocolate Ganache cakes reside. I order one cake with a Chai Latte and dig in to the cake with much anticipation. Lots of ganache- about a half an inch of ganache over a tiny piece of cake. Hmmm, I like it because it's chocolate, but it's not too my taste-too rich, cloying, and judging by the sad looking strawberry garnish, it's not that fresh. I eat four gooey bites and take the rest home for my boys. I guess you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take away the memory of my mom's warm from the oven chocolate cake with fresh farm cream. I like a really moist cake that doesn't need icing, hence the love of the "puddingy" chocolate beet cake at Aphrodite's and yes, you do need to eat it warm with whipped cream. I couldn't find the Jaime Oliver chocolate beet cake recipe Ling mentioned, but made one this weekend from a recipe online. I wasn't too pleased with the results. It still needs experimentation in the Zucchini Test kitchen-I will try to adapt the rebar cookbook's classic Chocolate Zucchini Cake recipe. The good news is that at Pane from Heaven I had the best Chai Latte I've ever had in Vancouver-that is a decent westernized version of real chai and not made with that syrup crap. I will go back for that. I think the best chocolate dessert I had this past year was the chocolate tasting plate at Dock 503 in Sydney on Vancouver Island. I just remember thinking "Oh, this is chocolate with depth, and texture, chocolate to the power of three, chocolate cubed... Plus we were eating outdoors in the summer, and the prices on his menu are unbelievably reasonable. I had a vegetarian Bento Box for my meal that, (although not entirely successful) has haunted me ever since. They also serve local Island wines. My little Valentine's chocolate find in Vancouver was Quebec-made fair trade chocolates at 10,000 Villages on West Broadway. Now that chocolate is "good for you", even Aveda has come out with their own high-end chocolate bar-guess I'll have to try it and report back! Zuke

I just found a book called The Food Lover's Trail Guide to Alberta by Mary Bailey and Judy Schultz. There is a chapter called Kalyna Country: "Kalyna is a Slavic term for the bright red high-bush cranberries that grew wild in this part of the province. Native people used the berries along with the Saskatoons to flavour pemmican. Early settlers used them in bannock, syrups, and jams, and as a flavouring for vodka. (Kalyna Country: home of the original crantini.)" pg. 145 If you hit the perogy trail you pass Glendon's Giant Perogy, Vilna's King-Size Mushrooms, Vegreville's Huge Pysanka, Andrew's Enormous Mallard, the Great Smoky Lake Pumpkin, and Mundare's Big Sausage. Make sure you take your camera! This passage brought tears to my eyes: "[in Smoky Lake, Alta, ] The town's favorite loaf is a traditional Ukrainian bread stuffed with cottage cheese and dill, and baked on a big cabbage leaf. When the [traditional Ukrainian outdoor oven] is going, the residents from the seniors lodge next door come out to watch, to smell the bread, to remember." (pg. 149) This is what Ukrainian food is about, a connection to the past the immigrants left behind, the memories of their childhood homes, their families, and their original terroir-the land which resembles the Canadian Prairie, but is not the same thing at all. The book is informative, but they have missed a few choice places I know about. Again, I do tend to give up my secrets if I am plied with the right amount of alcohol! Zuke

Ukranian food and the food I grew up with in Sask. called "German Russian" food is SOUL food. It is a labour of love. One of my neighbours handmade all the cabbage rolls and perogies for her Ukrainian wedding-and if you think Greek weddings are big... My mother said she once made that Greek dessert that involves stretching out dough over a kitchen table until it is paper thin, and making layers and layers cooked with honey and walnuts-Baklava, of course. Apparently this woman says her mother made it so often they had baklava for breakfast. This is food as a tradition, a way of life handed down from one woman to another. When it comes to perogies, yes, they are like ravioli-your imagination is the limit. (I had some Cheemos with pancetta, onions and asiago the other day). I would take my mom's homemade mushroom perogies with our neighbour's homemade sausage over Feenies weenie and ravioli ANY DAY. Prairie food is all about the Terroir-I grew up with the best organic potatoes, free range eggs, fresh dill, unpasteurized dairy cream you could stand a spoon in and when it come to good ingredients all you need is a simple presentation to let the flavour come through-seasonal, local, fresh. I know how good food can taste, and every step taken to industrialize food production back home breaks my heart. Pesticides and large scale farming are contaminating the food chain and destroying rural prairie culture. If you want to taste good prairie food, chances are you may not find it in a restaurant. Sask. has a very depressed economy right now and many people still do not want to spend big bucks on fancy meals that might not appeal to their palates. You need to be invited to a church potluck or go to a fowl supper to get the real deal. Many small communities have game suppers or wildlife suppers, where the hunters and their wives cook and share their bounty. The thing that fucked up prairie food was the packaged food that appealed to winter-depressed folks like my mom-pizzas and taco mixes in boxes, Jello, you know what I mean. Imagine working on the fields all day and then coming home to a big communal supper with fresh bread made from locally milled organic grains, wholistically raised roast beef, fresh new potatoes, carrots, and peas with butter and a whisper of dill, followed by Saskatoon pie with homemade organic ice cream. Now how good do you think that tasted? I have more to say, just have to gather my thoughts, Zuke P.S. There are many forms of kolachy-type buns on the Prairie as well.

Rink Burgers An article in the Globe and Mail last week described the hangover that Greece is suffering after hosting the Olympics. Many of the buildings were made in such a rush that they are already falling apart, and need tons of cash to make them functional in the long term. The bottom line is they are left with a lot of ailing white elephants and one person wishes they used all that money to plant trees instead. Buyer beware I say. What are Vancouverites going to do with buildings like a mega-curling rink? I love curling as much as the next prairie gal, but when it come to the choice between throwing a few rocks and walking around the seawall, guess which form of exercise I'm gonna choose? I may stop by for a rink burger, though, which is where Vancouver's best burger may just be hiding. I don't know. All I know is when I was in high school every time I went inside the heated part of the rink to tighten the laces on my figure skates, the smell of frying burgers and caramelized onions made me drool all over my blades. After reading the burger club thread I became a bit nostalgic for the rink burgers of my past. I don't eat beef burgers much since I spent a year in England and Scotland during the mad beef crisis, and also since burgers have become less and less tasty in recent years. I grew up with hangar beef (if you call my neighbour's yard a hangar), and the industrial grain fed stuff leaves me cold. I' m also nervous about e-coli, BUT let it be known that the worst case of food poisoning I ever had was from a VEGGIE burger eaten in Vancouver, (and if you buy me a glass of bubbly, I'll tell you which bar it was). I suspect it was e-coli from improper handing of raw meat on the countertop. I was really sick. Anyway, today I saw a lovely burger on page 84 of Jan. 2004 Bon Appétit magazine, and I decided tonight was burger night at Chez Zucchini. Inspired by BA, I decided to make a jus out of the leftover duck bones from yesterday's duck rissotto which my partner made. I bought 3 giant buffalo burgers ($6.60) from Windsor meat. I notice less people seem to be promoting the old "beefalo" mix. According to the last issue of Canadian Geographic the majority of buffalo has been kissin' cousins to cattle for so long, there are very few "pure" bison left in Canada. After I left the butcher shop I bought Uprising Bakery whole wheat burger buns from Mainly Organics, and $2.25 worth of portabelllo mushrooms from EastWest Market. Tognina's Deli had a chunk or gorganzola for four bucks, so I was set. I always just bake our burgers, turning them once or twice, in a high oven until the juices run clear. I toasted the buns, topped the burger patty with the gorgonzola, caramelized onions and fried mushrooms and poured some of the duck jus on top. The side dishes were what I call no-brainers: baked sweet potatoes and salad. We had been given a lovely gift of the Bonny Doon 2003 Vin Gris de Cigar (P calls it "The closest thing to a Tavel that is not a Tavel"), so that was our wine. The verdict? Skip the jus-it was lost in the mélange, but otherwise, a decadent, satisfying meal. My partner became misty-eyed for the cafés around Broadway and Main that used to sell good burgers. "That was before the coffee shops took over". Well...seems burgers are served with a side of nostalgia at our house. We usually go Greek and eat the lamb burgers from Choices about once every two weeks-served with tsatsiki, feta, and tomatoes. Some day soon I've got to strap on my skates again and do a Dutch waltzes to work off all that meat! Happu Hunting, Burger Club! Zuke

Picnic in the Rain I apologize for the length of this post. Yikes! I'm moving into Blog territory here. But the gist of it is, for both a place to read the papers, and a child-friendly place, don't forget Picnic on South Granville. I was listening to The Roundup on CBC radio the other day and the guest was Don George, a contributor from the new Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel. He talked about some of the offbeat ways in which he devises methods of acting as a tourist in his home-city of San Francisco. He is a man after my own heart, as I am always trying to see Vancouver through fresh eyes, even though I have only lived here about eight years. Since I grew up on the prairies in a town with only seven people, I experience a bit of culture shock every time I walk out the door in this city, but I like being surprised and I like being culture shocked. Why walk through life with blinders on? So Saturday is my day off. They let me out of the cage, and I can follow my heart's desires, which often follow the desires of my gullet. Today I have my culinary destinations planned out, and I get to make up the route as I go along. I decide to start with Picnic on South Granville. On my journeys, I try to walk as much as possible. Apparently Margaret Trudeau walks for two hour every day. Wouldn't I love to do that! If canoeing makes you a child of nature, as Pierre Trudeau once said, then I say walking in the city makes you a child of the city. I also say walking is good for the soul. I take the bus to Granville and 25th where I can walk down the hill. I walk past the Chinese embassy, curious to see if there is a member of the Falun Dafa in the little protest booth. The embassy is heavily gated and the outside fence is covered with the posters of protest from the peaceful Falun Dafa society. There is a serene senior lady meditating with her eyes closed in a booth with barely enough room to sit down in. I walk past her and look at the poster of a Falun practitioner being subdued by Chinese authorities. The contrast between the tranquility of the woman with the violent nature of the image of the man being dragged away brings tears to my eyes. I'm also thinking of the dying Catholic pope, who can no longer sustain the fire in his belly, and is finally letting go of his ailing body. Whether you see him as a tyrant or a saint, I marvel at how a human can be so powerful in life and yet so inevitably fragile in death. However, the living must eat, and today I am gonna suck the marrow out of the bones of life. I'm headed for Picnic. Picnic is an unusual concept in the upscale shopping district of South Granville. The food is posh deli from the Meinhardt's store on the corner but the odd thing is that the tables are literally communal table benches. Eating here is always an adventure, and if you come here with children, you're bound to strike up a conversation with a stranger. Today I order a tomato and spinach ricotta quiche ($8.51), and I am reminded of how child-friendly it actually is. It's also a great place to come and read the papers, which are provided on wooden rolls. A young couple across from me share the Globe and Mail as they nurse their lattes. A mom and her four year old son sit across from me and we chat a bit as he settles into painting on one of those marvelous "Buddha Boards" put on the tables for diners to use. This is an ingenious board that you can "paint" on with a brush dipped in water. The pictures appears and then disappears as the water dries. My delicate crustless quiche hits the brunch-lite spot and it comes with a spunky side of greens in what I think is a ginger tarragon vinaigrette. I sit and plot out the rest of my route for the day. My next stop is the Firehall Library, where I'm going to pick up a couple of books, then I am heading to Pane from Heaven to try the mythical chocolate ganâche cake. After that, I plan to visit Marquis wines to pick up a bottle of the Joie 2004 Pinot Noir Rosé. We'll see what happens along the way. Meanwhile, I pause to think about the time I was in Bath, England, looking for a good place for lunch. I stumbled upon a tiny French-style restaurant above a cheese shop that was so busy there was only room for me to eat if I shared a table. An elegant older woman asked me to join her, and she proceeded to tell me stories of her life in Paris, which touched and entertained me for a good two hours. The food was also incredible. I believe that sharing a meal with someone is one of the most spiritually fulfilling things you can do, no matter which religion you belong to. The best thing about the churches I went to on the prairies were the fowl suppers-no doubt about it! I wish we could all just eat together in peace. Amen! Sister Zucchini

Geez, Louise! A few years back I did a performance piece called "Eating Swan". Imagine my surprise and delight upon discovering this thread! I have a wonderful old photo of my great grandmother in her Gibson girl topknot, white blouse and long black skirt holding up the wing of a dead swan in one hand and a shotgun in the other. This is on the Canadian prairies where I'm sure they chowed down on the bird no matter how tough or greasy it was. These days you would not want to make your found swan into a terrine. The birds have such long necks they often ingest old lead buckshot at the bottom of ponds. One of the reasons they fly into power lines is because lead poisoning affects their vision. I am planning on expanding and remounting the piece, so I'll have to work in this new material! I'd appreciate any arcane tidbits on the history of eating swan. Cheers, Zucchini Mama

New Tibetan Restaurant and Lounge in Victoria Vancouver Lee mentioned the Kathmandu Café opening on Commercial and I wanted to talk about Tibetan food and politics, since I found this quote (obviously badly translated) yesterday. At first I thought it was funny, but then I changed my mind and realized it's one of the saddest things I've ever come accross. "The Qomolanga Hotel...newly launched a Snowy Mountain Noble Dining Series. It offers you special food with exquisite tableware under a compatable atmosphere. You can enjoy the dance by the beautiful Tibetan girls and to experiences the inner Tibethan cultural connotation. They present you with the snowy white hada [a ceremonial scarf] when you enter the gate of this restaurant. The passionate Tibetan girls will serve you the highland barley wine as well as other Typical Tibetan food , such as dried yak meat, curry beef, toasted mutton, and so on." (actually taken from the online China-Tibet Information Centre as read in Burnt toast-a food zine) When I woke up this morning, I realized the full horror of the impact of that little quote. It's really an indictment of how China has ravaged Tibet, and the fact that now they want to parade Tibetan women around like zoo animals is truly disgusting. (I'm sorry for making fun of the said quote in the "truth's from the other side" thread). The Tibetan culture is truly communal and spiritual and we capitalists need to look to Tibetan Buddhists for some kind of antidote to the soul-sucking mess of industrialized globalization. The way the Chinese have treated the Tibetans is tragic. There is a story about Tibetan food that I really enjoy in an anthology called The Adventure of Food: True Stories of Eating Everything, edited by Richard Sterling. In "Tibetan Cravings" Lisa Kremer writes "Later I will laugh upon seeing Tibetan restaurants in the States. What could they be serving-blood sausage, dried uncooked meat, roasted barley and butter tea?..." Anyway, I have eaten at a new Nepalese/Tibetan restaurant called The Mint in Victoria. It has a warm, trendy vibe, and is located in a brick-walled basement near the Douglas Hotel at 1414 Douglas Street. I had the vegetarian momos, which as I remember were something like a cross between Chinese steamed veggie dumplings and perogies, which kind of makes sense, geographically. I read mixed reviews online, but it is an interesting university crowd kind of place. Apparently they have a Nepalese chef, a vegan chef and the "main" chef. They also have music (live or DJ) later in the evening. Zuke

If y'all love chocolate croissants, you should go to Anona's on Main and take home her u-bake frozen pain au chocolat. You leave them out overnight and when you wake up, pop them in the oven and a few minutes later, you've got the sublime smell of fresh croissants wafting through your home and you can munch on them while you read the weekend paper. They are made with Callebaut chocolate-no bananas though! She also has frozen plain croissants. She also has the best hot choc. I've tasted-Belgian chocolate and milk- AND she makes homemade marshmallows to melt on top-the esspresso ones are best. Zuke

Swallowing Clouds Oh jshyun, I'm so glad you knew the title and author of the book by James McCawley. I googled it, and of course, it's readily available on Amazon, along with several other relevant titles. There is only one copy of it in the library system in Vancouver, which is a shame, really. Although, it's probaby one of those books that comes back with pages stuck together, stained with soya sauce (and chocolate, if it's me). I'm going to request they buy a few more copies. There are even dim sum flash cards you can buy-which would be great for the kids! The book that came up that intrigued me the most is called Swallowing Clouds: A Playful Journey through Chinese Culture, Language, and Cuisine by A. Zee. The book is exactly what I was looking for. It is uncanny! I got it out from the library and it's just so inspiring. You have to listen to this: "Once, when I was at dinner with a well-known Chinese food critic and writer, someone mentioned this triad of food, fragrance, and taste. The elderly gentleman-gourmet responded that food writers, by constantly talking about these three characters, often miss the single character that summarizes the basic philosophy of Chinese cuisine. Naturally, we all wanted to know what that might be. He replied, to our surprise that it was [...] loosely translatable as 'intention', or 'meaning'. Seeing that we were puzzled, he went on to say, 'When someone invited you to dinner, it is his intention that gives the food meaning. Only by understanding his intentions can you understand the taste you experience. This is what the Chinese mean by [..]' (loosely, understanding and tasting the meaning behind the food.)" pg. 45. Zee goes on to say Chinese cuisine is the only one in the world you cannot enjoy by yourself. Having taken a printing workshop with a Chinese calligrapher the other day, it occurred to me that I'd like to learn to write the characters as well as read them. I think I'm going to put together a food-related Chinese calligraphy class in my neighborhood for adults and kids. It would be fun to develop a little curriculum with some basic ideas around different types of Chinese cuisine. Then you could make a little workbook with photos and... well you could do lots with it. I have decided that this year, The Year of the Rooster, is going to be my year of action-although , I'm not a rooster, I'm a horse, as well as a Pisces, so my head is in the clouds and yes, while I'm up here, I might as well swallow a few. The mountains were indeed swallowing the clouds today, and I had a lovely little culinary odyssey, but I'll save that for later. Ciao Up and Ciao Down, Zuke

I just wanted to pick up this thread again, because I walk by the Chinese restaurants in my neighborhood all the time, and I wish I knew more about them. I read lately about a book you can get that has the Chinese characters for food items-someone in New York was writing about it, I think. My mind's a sieve. Does anyone know about this book? Why don't we all have one? Where is the guide to eating Chinese food in Vancouver? My son and I ate lunch at the Buddhist Vegetarian place on East Pender and I had bought him a workbook with Chinese characters for fun. The waitress was tickled pink and helped us figure out how to do it. I was touched at how eager she was to teach us about her culture. Why are we so seperated by our language? I want someone to write that guide and I want to know where to get the best cook at your table hot pot in Vancouver. I'm also interested in literature that talks about Chinese food. I've been reading the mystery novels by Peter May set in Shanghai which have been inspiring me to learn more. There is a passage where a pregnant pathologist steams up lotus paste buns for breakfast-such a lovely simple domestic moment that had me buying some for my freezer right away! Zuke P.S. I went to Lyon, and with much false hubris regarding my grade twelve French proceeded to order a Salade Lyonnaise. My "salad" turned out to be a fried egg plunked on sweet breads-not good for jet lag. I've taken food guides on trips ever since!