This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving; most of us celebrate today or tomorrow with a traditional meal or spending times with friends and family (it isn’t nearly the giant shopping craze that is often seen in the US).

Many of our American friends have ham on US Thanksgiving – I’ve always rationalized that it was more ligical than Turkey given that their Thanksgiving is so much closer to the Christmas/ New Years Holidays that often sees it served then as well.  My assumptions have been somewhat challenged over the years as I’ve met many American friends who choose ham (or something completely different) for both.

Our Thanksgiving meal is completely dependant on the harvest.  My parents have been in the woods for about 10 days and they may have already harvested our thanksgiving meal.  If they haven’t, I’ll lend a hand and try to change fortunes before Sunday evening and hope to add some food to our harvest.

If we have no luck in the woods, we’ll have a turkey with us as well (it was brought up there frozen and won’t go to waste) and will enjoy the bounty of the harvest that we are lucky enough to share.  Partridge is a favorite but bear, squirrel, rabit and even deer (now that we are using crossbows) are all possible options.  Of course there will be a pile of vegetables as well.

Regardless of where you are in the world, do you celebrate Thanksgiving (and when)?  Do you have a traditional meal or dish that simply must be part of it?

Happy thanks giving to one and all!

My Grandmother hated having her picture taken.  I figure she’d be ok if I shared this photo of her because it’s far more embarrassing to me, as a child of the 70s than it is of her:

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Today started with one of those phone calls.  You know the type – the ones that ring in the middle of the night and launch you into hyper awareness.  By noon I had driven almost 700 kilometers (about 400 miles) and I’m now back home.  For now I’ll leave the reason as personal but let’s assume it’s been a tough day.

There was a time in my life that I couldn’t find a silver lining.  I’m now guilty of chronically looking for it.  One of the benefits of a late night- early morning drive into Northern Ontario is that you get to see spectacular sunrises like this one:

That picture was taken early this morning on a surprise trip to our hunting cabin.  I wasn’t there very long but I did have a chance to see these:

Our garlic is starting to peek through the soil and reach for the sun!

I would have normally thought that this was neat or cool or exciting.  Today I found it remarkably comforting.  To see food grow and to be part of the process is a vivid reminder of how connected we are to the planet, that sunrise and each other.  And, some days, that feeling is all you need to take the next step.

Sorry to be vague; but the point here isn’t my rough day – but rather the comfort that’s brought by being connected to something that’s growing and new.

Being passionate about something generally mandates continuous learning.  It’s pretty difficult to be passionate about something and NOT learn about it.  Despite being somewhat dyslexic, my career (outside of food) has revolved around education and training for most of my life.  It would be very fair to say that I am passionate about learning, food and learning about food.

In 20 years as a trainer of one form or another, I’ve learned that questions are the accelerator of learning.  Finding the right question can quickly expand your world and bring new information and delights that you couldn’t have imagined otherwise.  I’ve also learned that asking the wrong  question can have the opposite effect – it can shut down the person you’re asking and prevent the acquisition of such information.  Pursuing the right question (and how to approach it) can rapidly expand your experiences with food.

It was in such spirit that, a few months back, I shared the most important question to ask a real butcher.  I was particularly thrilled to learn that some people have started to ask the same thing and that their world of food is expanding.

As much as I enjoy diners and independent restaurants, I often find myself falling victim to plate envy.  I used to order what I thought sounded good and, while it’s often great, it never seems to fail that a regular patron walks in and orders something that has my enthusiasm crushed in an instant.  This is even more problematic when travelling as there’s rarely a chance for a do-over.

I graduated to asking people what they recommended and, while it sometimes helped, there were often problems in smaller restaurants:

• I would get a generic “everything’s great”
• I would be walked through the things most people eat if they were good or not.
• I would be guided to the highest profit margin or special of the day.

But the biggest problem was far more sensitive: people felt pressured by the question and they would recoil into an awkward response either concerned that you wouldn’t like it or that they didn’t feel right reccomending for you.  This happened more often than I would beleive.

I’ve found that a slight modification to the original question has dramatically increased my results:

• “What’s your favorite thing here?”

The question is far softer and less intimidating.  After all, I’m not asking them if I’ll like it or even for them to recommend it.  I generally receive a passionate, excited answer and suffer far less plate envy.

That’s how I ended up with a crawfish etouffe omelette at Mothers in New Orleans today.  I didn’t want an omelette, didn’t know what etouffe was and expected to be saddled with pulling shells apart to eat it.  My breakfast arrived and I was a little unsettled – it wasn’t exactly a work of art.

I knew, after a single bite, that I was in bliss.  It was simply awesome; a special thanks to the young lady who lit up when she told me about how much she loved this dish.  I share her appreciation for it!

How do you avoid plate envy?

The sky is dull grey and dank; it kind of feels like a dubious looming candle that melts from the apex of the moon and into the asphalt on the ground.  You get the picture: it’s dull.  Drab.  Droopy.  Not delightful.

But I’m excited to be heading into the murky streets of Toronto this morning.  We’ll be crossing the city in a vibrant red streetcar (or my neon black truck) to meet friends for brunch.  Friends Dana’s had for most of her adult life and friends I’ve now shared for many years.  A group of ‘ladies’ that we used to meet monthly for the same meal (as in brunch not as in the same ingredients) in what was once an all-girl brunch club (I ruined the gender ratio).  They will be our pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I’m generally not a big breakfast person.  I have a special place in my heart for pancakes and French Toast but find the truly homemade version is generally far superior to what one gets in many restaurants.  But I can easily pass on most of the meals other offerings; I’d far rather trade a hamburger for a fried egg or a plate of spaghetti for a pile of hash.  I know that many people love the concept of breakfast for dinner – I’m just wired the other way.

This morning is a return to chicken and waffles.  Yes, I am that excited.

But brunch has become about more than the meal.  It’s a small tradition that connects this small group of friends out of the context of our ‘normal’ friend ship with each other.  Brunch is a pattern interrupt and seeing them for this meal always feels different from our other encounters. Brunch is the cozy couch that’s wrapped in a warm blanket of our friendship.

I don’t know when it crossed the line from going for a meal to becoming a tradition, but it did.  Memories from across the city of shared breakfast and bleary eyes as we slowly become fully conscious of the world around us (aided a great deal by never-ending cups of coffee).  And food that is seasoned with tradition always tastes better than the alternative to me.

What are the small food traditions you value the most in your life?

The Holidays are fast approaching and I’m very excited.  This is my favorite time of year – lots of chance to spend quality time with those I love while generally sharing wonderful meals and libations.  I’m a sucker for the Holidays.

Christmas is a big holiday around these parts for us.  The biggest tradition is the gathering of Family and several days of living in tighter-than-normal confinement; the magic of the Holidays makes this not only tolerable but desirable and wonderful.  Our Family is so awesome and accommodating and don’t seem to mind sleeping anywhere needed (including on air mattresses which magically deflate while sleeping in the kitchen overlooking one of the busiest streets in Canada).

We are fortunate to have a few food traditions.  Some of them are more flexible than others, here’s a partial list and the length of time we’ve had the tradition:

• Turkey is the main meal Christmas day.  I know a lot of Americans opt for ham as US Thanksgiving is relatively close to Christmas but ours is in early October.  We have bought a small-farm bird that was organic and free-run and are excited to be picking it up on the 23rd.  I’ve decided to brine the turkey this year – a departure from previous years (my Father is a fabulous cook who has never served a dry bird in his life).  This has been a tradition for generations and it a must.
• Brussels Sprouts – served with butter and white vinegar (sometimes whole, sometimes shredded and cooked with bacon).  This is a tradition from Dana’s family and is also a long-standing must-have from her family.
• Moose pie for Christmas morning.  A blend of my Father’s traditional hunting with my Mothers Acadian roots.  Meat pie is steamed to reheat – recent years have had only a top layer of a thick dough-like crust.  It’s served with the family made mustard pickles and starts the day like my Mothers family has for many years.
• The Christmas cheese platter.  Something I started when we had our first Dana and Joel combined family Christmas 6 years ago.  Cheese is taken out of the fridge early on Christmas morning and left to come to room temperature before serving.  It generally includes some seasonal selections that are specific to this time of year.
• Christmas Eve Lobster.  This is a traditional Acadian Christmas Eve dinner that we haven’t had for a number of years but plan on bringing back this year.  Christmas Eve is generally an evening of celebration that lasts long into the early morning (so long that the last one to bed sometimes put the turkey in the oven before going to bed).
• Stuffing – made inside the turkey.  I know more people are getting away from it but I can’t see ever-changing.
• Craft Beer from across the Province – this started only in the last year or two but I’m really enjoying having a wide-range of craft beers to sample (generally for the first time) through the lazy hours of the Christmas Holidays.
• New Years Eve feast.  We have wonderful friends over for a fantastic meal and celebration of the year that was – and the one that will be.  Last year was a 12-course marathon.

Regardless of which Holidays you celebrate, what are the traditional foods you can’t live without?

Dana’s parents have been visiting this weekend – I love having them around and enjoy our house when there’s a few extra people in it.  It just feels like there’s a special occasion to me.

Food is the third most enjoyable thing in my life.  Friends and family are number two.  Friends and family with food are number one.  Simply put, if I have to choose between friends and family or food, I’ll pick the people whom I adore.  But I am fortunate to have the ability to be greedy and have both and thus I choose the combo!

I’m also a giant fan of cooking.  I adore prepping in the kitchen.  The quiet process and repetition of technique as well as seeing my progress grow in the kitchen are giant motivators.  Observing people I love enjoying the fruits of such labour is  payoff like none other that I know.  The food doesn’t have to be overly complex but there is an absolute joy in seeing people enjoy good food done well.  This feeling is magnified as we get to know the producers of our food and I know the people who worked hard and honestly to provide me ingredients which I try to raise to their heights of my highest capable yumminess.

Yes, ‘highest capable yumminess’ is both a real word and scientifically measurable in my world.

Dana also enjoys the foods from our kitchen in similar but different ways.  She has an appreciation (and, indeed, passion) for really simple food in addition to that which takes a lot of work.  A bowl of beans, chickpeas or fruit is more than enough to make her very happy.  I adore this about her but I’m still learning that restraint can lead to amazing results.

It’s not an intellectual battle (I understand that a great ingredient can be great if left alone) but I’m a classic boy in that regard – sometimes my neanderthal brain kicks in and demands that ‘bigger is better.’  I think this is what happened when I first tried to impress her with my culinary ‘skills’ about 7 years ago and cooked a pasta sauce with (my parents preserved) tomato sauce and 18 other ingredients, including an entire bulb of garlic.  I made enough to feed the two of us every meal for 3 days.  And for her to take to work for a week.  Thankfully, I’ve learned a lot about restraint and portions (although it’s a work in progress).

For the last two mornings, we’ve sat around the high table in our kitchen and chomped on toast, yogurt, muffins and local fruit.Multiple jars of preserves sat near the butter and toaster which pumped out hot bread like an assembly line churning out the latest fad of today that will become the landfill of tomorrow.

Our mini breakfast buffet has been delightful.  A gentle rhythm as individual waited for the toaster to pop, drowsy conversation that slowly picks up with consciousness and coffee and the smells and tastes that wake the kitchen.  A simple, no-work (if you don’t count the toil of previous days including making the preserves and homemade bread and muffins) meal that delighted the senses.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m learning to appreciate breakfast and the traditions that come with a simple meal…