Large Black Pigs ~ Why heritage breeds matter.

We’ve seen the Is it local? episode on Portlandia, and laughed at its ridiculousness. And we’ve seen the heirloom tomatoes at the farmers market with all of their charismatic bumps and scabs as we balk at the price tag. On menus we have read Red Fife wheat, or Berkshire Pork in an item’s ostentatious description. But why should we care?

It’s important.

The Art of Collecting Eggs

Eggs await removal

There is a common, yet irrational fear of placing one’s uncalloused fingers into a chicken coop for the first time. I’ve heard this phenomenon expressed by several seasoned friends and acquaintances who have embraced the joys of raising chickens. It starts when you walk toward the coop. Within a few metres the scent of ammonia becomes salient, the warmth created by roosting hens, and rooster counterparts, emanates from their humble abode, and the clucking, chirping and cock-a-doodling rings in the ears. You brace yourself for the collection event, which deep down you know will bring joys of custards and frittatas, with certain caution that comes while reaching in.

Wolfville Farmer’s Market – One Brick at a Time

The Plans - Photo Credit, Bruce Dienes

Eighteen years have passed and it’s been a long and fruitful journey for the volunteers, directors and staff of the Wolfville Farmers Market. Starting with three vendors in a parking lot, this community hub has been transformed into a bustling intersection of business and pleasure. Live music plays prominently every Saturday morning like a piper, enticing neighbours and tourists alike to spend an hour or two taking in all of the flavours of Nova Scotia’s Annapolis Valley. Well known for its sensational array of apples, berries, organic produce, and rich, red soils, the region is an integral piece of the Nova Scotia food map. It’s a true coming of age story for the little farmers market that can, and with a big fundraising campaign underway, the Wolfville Farmer’s Market is casting off its outgrown, outdoor shell and will be moving into its new home in September, 2011.

Greenwich, Nova Scotia Rezoning and the Future of Farmland in the Annapolis Valley

Greenwich, Nova Scotia

Please visit

Good Food Revolution

to read my ideas on Greenwich, Nova Scotia’s farmland rezoning issues and the  Kings County Municipal Council decision to defer their decision.

*This weekend* Stinking Rose Festival – Baker Settlement, Nova Scotia

While many of you will be donning French Maid, or Spider Man costumes this weekend, Camelia Frieberg will be cooking up a storm on her farm in Baker Settlement, Nova Scotia. So before you get all hopped up on refined sugar, check out a wholesome family event this Saturday down on the South Shore. 85% of what’s being served for lunch is coming from the Watershed Farm garden, accompanied by live music and workshops on different garlic varieties, medicinal uses, and gardening techniques. Despite a weekend of ghosts and goblins making their way above ground, vampires will be motoring to Cape Breton for fear of all the gorgeous garlic just outside of Bridgewater.

Please join Camelia, her family and friends for a fabulous Pollination Project special event. Details in the image below:

Mycophile

Just came back form a three days mushroom-a-ganza! Headed out with the new-ish Nova Scotia Mycological Society for their third annual foray. We had four expert mycologists, and 50+ participants working together to collect, identify, eat, grow, learn about, and catalogue over 100 species throughout the weekend. The foray was held at White Point Inn by the south-east coast of Nova Scotia and the white capped waves of the Atlantic. Bliss

Find out more about the foray by reading my piece for Good Food Revolution

Early Bird Gets the Berry

Highbush Blueberries

Labour Day. What better way to celebrate being unemployed than by getting out to harvest something to put up for the winter. In Nova Scotia’s Annapolis Valley there’s a lot of talk of how prolific this summer has been for the crops. And despite the threat of Hurricane Earl, which thankfully did not cause the chaos anticipated, farmers are likely to be reaping the benefits. I am also reaping the benefits of their hard work and good weather at the U-Picks just outside of Wolfville. Bright and early, and within 15 minutes of my front door, I found myself at Blueberry Acres, surrounded by rows of highbush blueberries. I was the first picker there, and got myself set up with a box and a pail on a string, set out and within an hour I had harvested 17lbs of delicious, juicy, enormous berries.

Blueberry Fields Forever

Highbush blueberries grow about 5-6 feet tall. Unlike wild blueberries, there is no crouching necessary, no bending over or squatting down. This is the most civilized berry picking a girl could ask for. Just reach out in front and pick. The blue orbs are plentiful and easy to detect, yet just when you think you’ve cleaned off a bush, look down, below the branches at eye level, and you’ve found another mother-load. In amongst the serenity and meditative qualities of berry picking, are disturbing sounds, however. As a measure of pest prevention for birds mostly, gunfire shots, squawking calls of birds of prey, and a lovely sculpture of a bald eagle are ever-present in the fields.

Integrated Pest Management

I would caution anyone going there who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, if the sound of gunfire is rattling, because the recording is amplified across the property inconsistently and often, bearing no resemblance of pattern. I got used to it pretty quickly, though, but was adequately disturbed.

Along with the flavour of late summer bursting from my freezer, I am looking forward to the antioxidant powerhouses gracing smoothies and baked goods all year-long.

The lovely ladies at Blueberry Acres also informed me that there was a raspberry U-Pick just down the way. Making two lefts and a right, I came up to miles of hoop houses, or tunnels filled to the rafters with raspberries, red and gold, cherry tomatoes, bell peppers, and strawberries. Victor, originally from Guadalajara, Mexico, was charmed by my six words of Spanish that I could string together, and told me that he supervised 72 Mexican farm labourers in the tunnels. He lives in town, but the rest of them live in trailers at the back of the property. They’re paid by the hour, but he said that many Mexican ladies go to be paid piece work a the blueberry farm and make upwards of $200.00 a day. Pretty good, but far from home. Victor only spends three out of 12 months in Mexico. Tomorrow I am going to go pick at the blueberry fields again, this time as a commercial picker and will be paid to spend a beautiful day outdoors.

Raspberries

Come on over, Earl. You can’t bring us down.

Sterling Farm Market, Greenwich, NS

It’s the day before an extreme weather event; a threat that the local and national news has been eager to make prime time and headline. Hurricane Earl is coming and there’s nothing we can do to stop him. I have recently relocated my busy Toronto city life to sleepy Wolfville, Nova Scotia, where, according to the weather people, we will be hit by the eye of the storm. Is it an omen? A sign that I have made a terrible mistake? Probably not, but it sure is daunting. I was thrilled to find, when I moved here, that I am able to drive four minutes from my new digs to a handful of farm stores offering fresh, spray free peaches, plums, and apples, apples, apples. The vegetables grown with care are crunchy, colourful, and fresh.

Apples at Sterling Farm, Greenwich, NS

After my first exploratory bike ride this morning, it dawned on me, as I was cruising by the orchards and bright red, clay soil fields, fruit hanging heavily from the branches, that these tender fruits are going to have one hell of a time through the storm. How resilient are the Gravensteins, the L’Acadie grape, the endless rows of green cabbage?

Today is a balmy 31 degrees, and that’s without the humidity, which feels like pea soup even when you’re standing still. There isn’t the slightest bit of wind or cool breeze to indicate that a storm is coming. Yet, Environment Canada has reported a Tropical Storm Warning for Kings County, reckoning that we will experience between 40mm and 70mm of rain within the next 24 hours and 90-110km/hr winds. The locals are bracing themselves for the event, taking in their patio furniture, packing away their gazebos, and stowing anything that could be vulnerable to lift off.

But what will the farmers do to protect their livelihood? I visited several farmers who all exhibited a common, and totally unexpected, laissez-faire attitude about the whole situation. Hal at Sterling Produce said they deal with Mother Nature every day, this is no different; they’re crossing their fingers and waiting it out. They’ve been busy harvesting what’s ripe and hoping the young apples and pears will hold on to the branches through the storm. The wind seems to be his biggest concern, not so much the rain, he says the trees could use the rain. Dave, his counterpart, leaning up against a pile of wooden pallets, cigarette dangling from the face of exhaustion, interjected with his feeling on the subject, “We’re not looking forward to it (the storm) but we’re not much for worrying ‘bout it either.” At Noggins Corner, just down the road, Andrew, the owner was on the phone busy getting his daughter’s wedding sorted out for the next day and hardly worrying about the storm either. He said that they were frantically picking peaches, at around 4:30pm, but he had other things on his mind. At Elderkin’s Farm, another local orchard just a stone’s throw from Acadia University, Jason at the shop suggested that it would be too bad about the tomatoes. The farmers are busily harvesting the crop, but if they get too many to sell at the farm store then many will go to be processed as seconds and the Elderkins will make far less money than they could.

Gaspereau Vineyards, Gaspereau, NS

And grapes? The Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia is well-known for its vineyards. Set on picturesque, winding roads, sloped toward the sun, grapes such as the L’Acadie prosper in this region. Emily at Gaspereau Vineyards said they had had several reporters passing through today asking what would happen to the crop in the storm. She told them all the same thing. Mother Nature will have her way. They’re tying things down that could blow into the crops and hurt the vines, but that’s about it. With the season as it’s been, particularly good, the grapes are two weeks early in ripening. They will be starting the harvest three weeks from now excited for the higher sugar content in the grapes this year because of the hot and dry weather. But as for the rain, they are not too concerned; the wind might blow away some of the crop, but there is nothing they can do to protect any of the fruit or the vines. “For now,” Emily suggested, “just sample the wines.” And so, I did.

More than finding out what farmers do in the face of an impending tropical storm and severe weather warnings, it has become clear that the lesson of today’s outings has been more sociological than agricultural. ‘Que sera, sera’ seems to be the outlook in the Maritimes. My city-stress-case perspective is getting shaken down and flattened out. No drama here, except for in the playhouse, taking things as they come. I’m going to learn how to slow down and take it easy, just like the locals. Tomorrow morning I’ll be able to attend my first farmers market in Wolfville, where, if it goes ahead, I’ll be able to learn even more about this new pace, more about food in the region and will be able to fill up my fridge with the harvest’s bounty.

Simple lines, for a simple life.

Transgenic Trangression

Sooke Harbour Salmon

So, fish. Let’s talk about their current situation. Wild fish good; genetically modified fish not so good. Pretty simple. Lately I have been receiving a smattering of emails, requests to sign petitions, and Facebook group membership suggestions all relating to the Wild Pacific Salmon, now being considered as BC’s symbol of strength, resilience, and culture. Seems reasonable as Pacific Salmon can be found on almost any menu, in any museum of BC history or culture, and was once found in every river. It also seems reasonable, because the wild population of these beautiful creatures are in a bit of a pickle and in need of some more serious recognition and protection. With the introduction of farmed salmon, and now transgenic species of the fish escaping from the confines of lice-infested, waste-riddled, open-net cage farms, the wild stock is in serious danger. More so than ever before. A friend of mine who has been in BC for most of his life, closely connected to the population of all things edible, has written to me that there are hardly any fish this year, noting also that he has been involved in the fight to save the species for decades. Yes, global warming, over-fishing, and contamination of our waterways all contribute to the threat, but in the past several years, genetic engineering is rearing its even uglier head, beyond the scope of the endless fields of corn, wheat, soy and cotton, brings this problem to a whole other level.

It is generally franken-salmon, a relative to Atlantic Salmon, being raised on the Pacific Coast in net-pens along the coast of BC. But as Les Blumenthal writes for the Washington Post, “by some estimates, 400,000 to 1 million Atlantic salmon have escaped into the wild from the 75 or so net-pen operations in British Columbia. A Purdue University study using a computer model — and widely criticized by the biotechnology industry — showed that if 60 transgenic fish bred in a population of 60,000 wild fish, the wild fish would be extinct in 40 generations.” I don’t know how you might feel about this, but from what I understand, anything that becomes extinct leaves a trail of consequences that is impossible to predict. Predators and prey both challenged by the void.

This introduction of a genetically manipulated acquroversy has lead me to ponder the situation closer to home.

Delicious Smoked Wild Salmon

I have been trying to figure out whether there is any difference between what’s happening in the rivers and ocean of the west coast, and our very own Great Lakes. I am a huge fan of Splake. It’s a cross between a lake trout and a brook trout, which I have written about ad nauseum. I love its flaky, orange flesh, it’s tiny little scales and clear bright eyes. I love the way it holds up on a grill and cooks evenly from the outside inwards on a hot pan. I adore the delicate flavour and not-too-overly-fatty mouth feel that seems to melt on the tongue, requiring little in the way of chewing or teeth. But what, prey tell, is the difference between that of our local fish scientists introducing such a mule to our waters to repopulate the lakes and the genetic engineering of salmon in BC? This intervention seems less than favourable when dissected and deboned. Perhaps the trout is in cahoots with the zebra mussel mafia and is quietly planning yet another unwelcome and prolific invasion. Perhaps the few native fish we have left in the lakes will be bullied and picked on by the new kids, who generally grow faster than their predecessors, and will give up the fight, only to be devastated by the conquerors. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of research on the subject, and I shy away from quoting Wikipedia most of the time, so I will leave the question open. But to me, the use of the terms “man-created hybrid” when associated with a species of any organism, is a red flag (http://members.shaw.ca/amuir/splake.html). Does anyone out there have any idea if my fear is valid?

There are ways for us to fight upstream with the government and protest bogus policy and sustainability-washing certifications, that eco-organizations are doling out like candy so that companies can sell more product to unsuspecting salmon eaters. Alexandra Morton, who has done extensive research on salmon stocks, private and public policies has sent out the letter following this post. If you feel particularly strongly about the remarkable power that massive acquaculture companies have over our environment, our governance, and our food system, please take the time to read and react to Alexandra’s call for help.

Cooking Workshops

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