Gastronavigation: TERRA at Home Market

It started with a wayward Tweet on a Thursday afternoon, in which I heard about Manual Labour Coffee, a mobile espresso bar based in part out of Dundas (and in part out of a vintage Bailey Travel Trailer named Frankie), and shared this finding with M.  

M, in turn, tracked down their website, quickly fell into admiration, and shared with me that they would be part of the TERRA at Home Market that Saturday in Burlington. And thus, a road trip was born.

The premise behind this winter market is a little magical, not least to me; I make the joke with a wistful smile that I must have been a plant in a past life, as I operate a thousand times better when it's sunny outside or when surrounded by green, growing things. 

So, this greenhouse just outside of Burlington made the perfect escape for us from the grey skies and cold last weekend. Stepping in, it's easy to be distracted by tall palms, stunning orchids, and hardy cacti, but if you wind past the pots of hyacinths and callas, you'll find yourself in the market, lured instead by the sweet-salty smell of kettle corn (be sure to sample the cinnamon variant!) or the precise fire of a blue-flame torch over creme brulee cheesecakes.

We visited most of the stalls, coming away with everything from organic rutabagas to Hario coffee drippers. Meanwhile, M was in coffee heaven as he talked preparation methods and bean origins with the friendly and extremely knowledgeable team at Manual Labour. Even though coffee levels me with headaches and jitters, I walked away with a dark chocolate and chipotle cookie, which was glorious: smoky-bittersweet, chewy, and the best kind of unusual.

We entrusted our growling stomachs to the naked sprout, splitting the kale salad and sweet potato & parsnip soup. (It tasted great, and has to be at least some positive food karma for the mix of superfoods and veggies therein.) Kale has always been a food I've danced around; not deliberately, but as friends swore by kale chips or carried massive fronds through farmers' markets, I'd find myself distracted by Brussels sprouts sold while still on their stalk or new varieties of apple (or, okay, Anna Tolazzi's chocolates; those too.)  

I'm happy to report that the naked sprout's salad was a good introduction to kale. The cashew sour cream swirl on top of the soup was also delicious, lending an almost-citrus-y counterpoint to the rich, mildly sweet flavours of the sweet potato and parsnip. Perfect for warming up after dashing outside to drop off round one of our purchases (say what you will, but potatoes and rutabagas become heavy over time!)

The greenhouse setting was great for taking a break to eat lunch, but also talking with the vendors and other folks as we wandered.  

Although the market was busy, we never felt rushed or crowded, and covered in conversation everything from the schematics necessary to make road trips for cheese curds to the politics of organic farming; debated the merits of rainbow trout pate versus smoked salmon (the trout won); and talked truffles and Valentines with The Little Truffle Maker (and her husband, the Big Truffle Maker, who had the best aprons in the Market and wonderful smiles. And dangerously tasty truffles - if you can, sample the Orange Heat!)

It was a busy afternoon, but a wonderful one - if you find yourself in Burlington or Milton (where another Terra market has just started up) over a weekend, it can be a great way to connect with local farmers, chefs, and innovators - and is a welcome burst of colour. Spring's just around the corner, after all...

Happy wandering!

Thoughts: Stormy Weather for the Food Industry?

It's an interesting time to be writing around the periphery of the food world. The industry, and its legion army of amateur and professional personalities, reviewers, thought-provokers, and unflappable Instagrammers have been receiving a lot of press lately.  And at least from the mainstream side of things, little of it is flattering. Take your pick: the Reviewercard tempest-in-a-teapot (if nothing else came out of the brouhaha, I now know who John Birdsall, who wrote the story behind the latter link, is, and plan to follow his writing, because he makes me smile); subtler reminders that not everyone enjoys others' flash photography during their dinner out; or perhaps this wickedly pointed and yet often on-point post about unspoken thoughts and the food industry. (In regards to this last piece, while we're in accord about elevated cuisine and $16 mac & cheese, I will defend to the pain that cabbage rolls, depicted in their Thought 16 as an example of "not every cuisine deserves to be celebrated," certainly do deserve celebration. And afternoons dedicated to making nothing but with laughter, family, and new and old friends.)

All of this feels, to misquote the newest Selena Kyle, a little like the moments before a storm.

Here's hoping that I'm wrong; still, it feels like there's a few changes on our horizon. How we Tweet and talk about food is changing; hopefully for the better, the more respectful. (Standing on chairs to get a shot of your appetizer really is a little over-the-top.) But for all of that, I quietly advocate that there's still space for all of these odd, wonderful personalities.

After all, KW's food community was the first to welcome me; in particular with my golden ticket at Nick & Nat's Iron Chef competition. In that evening, I gained a new voice and met folks who I admire, respect, and whose lives have intertwined with mine in different ways ever since. I was a little dumbstruck as I took the guest judge's chair - "I can't talk about food; not really," I told the dark-haired woman sitting beside me, gesturing slightly to the man two seats over, "that's Andrew Coppolino, for heaven's sake."  I'd been in town for only a couple of months, but Andrew's Waterloo Region Eats was one of the first local sites I found, and I referred to it  (and continue to) as a map of the region; ideas, recommendations, and things not to miss. She smiled, distracted me with pointing out a chef's dexterous maneuver  rolling and slicing gnocchi with impossible ease, and got me talking; Anna Contini, Foodlink's project coordinator and local food advocate, is a good person to have in your corner.  Susan Cook-Scheerer of Rogers TV Cable 20's daytime (who I would meet again, later, through my work) rounded out the evening's judges. She and Andrew welcomed me to the community, as Anna introduced me, and while they all approached food from different ways of thinking, (and, perhaps, in a more cynical space, could have looked down their nose at this starry-eyed twenty-something with wild hair and wilder metaphors) their welcome was genuine and their thoughts (on the food, on the night itself, on the community and connecting with it) each added something different to the event.

I've a weakness for symbolism - after all, look: here is the neophyte, the established food writer and personality, the media, the community benefit organization. Four judges, four different stakeholders. The thread dancing through this recollection is that there can be a place in the food industry for everyone with an interest in or connection to it. It worked, that evening; it can work on a larger scale with the right steps forward. Whether part of the traditional or independent media structures, advocate or grower, newcomer or steeped in the history and knowledge of a place/art/style, our insights and experiences, when collected, can't help but make our community stronger.

Pie-in-the-sky optimism? Perhaps. But here's to food, wine, and moments of shared wonder, even so.