Revéillon- the Ultimate New Year’s Revel in Brazil

Few folks can party like South Americans. My mom would tell me stories of how millions of people dress up in white for New Years Eve in countries like Cuba and Brazil and head to the ocean for a sumptuous dinner. I often think of that experience- millions of revelers dressed in white on a moonlight- kissed beach, drinking tropical cocktails made of citrus juice and Cachaça (a sugar cane spirit), eating freshly grilled seafood and dancing. Now that’s how I’d like to spend a shiver-free New Year’s eve for a change!

And that’s exactly what the lucky masses and tourists do every year in Brazil. Second only to the country’s famous “Carnival,” there’s nothing quite like a Brazilian Revéillon to close out the old and ring in the new. While French in name only, the yearly Ano Novo parties in Brazil are particularly hot in beaches throughout Rio. The Zona Sul beaches, which include Copacabana, Flamengo, Ipanema (named after that girl), and Barra de Tijuca are where the real party starts.

White- the colour of good luck, peace, purity and the Goddess of the Sea- Yemanjá in the Candomblé religion- is the colour of choice for not only for clothing but the flowers, rice and trinkets offered to her that night. Candles are lit on the beach while revelers get ready to make their offerings. Once midnight strikes, the gifts are launched into the sea on model boats. If they’re swept out by the tides, good luck will ensue in the coming year. If they’re brought back to the shore, Yemanjá wishes you better luck next time. She’s a tough task master by all accounts.

Either way, party-goers have a well-choreographed, multi-hued fireworks display to light up the tropical night, beer stalls to hit and warm waters to go swimming in to wash away the year’s excesses. On New Year’s Day, to encourage an auspicious start to the new year, soups redolent with lentils, which symbolize wealth, are eaten by all to entice wallets more than waistlines to fatten up. I love lentil soup and I’ll happily wear white this New Years! Maybe if you could put in a good word to Yemanjá for me, I’ll soon see you in Rio!

Tamales

I used to spend Christmas holidays in Costa Rica and I have great memories of being invited to friends’ homes to share tamales on Christmas eve. Tamales are rarely eaten throughout the rest of the year, but are a Christmas eve tradition and every year my friend Jose Maria’s mother (and sister and aunts and friends) would get together and make around 250 of them and then trade with other friends and relatives who had made them with different kinds of fillings. It’s sort of like a cookie exchange - but with tamales.

I got to help on a couple of occasions and it was really a fun and festive time – all the more fun and festive because I didn’t have to make the corn dough that JM’s mother prepared from scratch. By the time I arrived it was a matter of assembling the tamales – chopping and mincing ingredients for the filling, cutting the plantain leaves and string to wrap the tamales, then wrapping them and boiling them. With a little music, a little wine, lots of talking.

One year when we didn’t get to CR, I made them for friends here and this year I decided to try them again. They aren’t exactly Costa Rican tamales because by the time I got around to buying my ingredients there weren’t any plantain leaves left and I bought corn husks instead. Corn husks are used for Mexican tamales and are steamed rather than boiled.

I used Maseca instant corn masa flour, which is very easy to make following directions on the package and I made two fillings - chicken and picadillo (ground beef). I lined each corn husk with the corn flour dough, then added a spoon of filling and wrapped and tied each tamale, then filled my steamers - a double boiler, a Oster steamer and a Chinese bamboo steamer.

I didn’t make 250 of them – because I don’t have anyone to trade with and I didn’t have friends over to share the tasks, but I will follow the tradition of having friends over on Christmas eve to share them.

Picadillo
1 Tbsp veg oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1-1/2 lbs minced beef
2 Tbsp tomato puree
1 green chili, seeded and finely chopped
14 oz can chopped tomatoes
½ tsp ground cumin
1 tbsp chopped oregano
2 tbsp chopped parsley
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large potato, peeled and cut into small cubes

1) heat the oi8l in large pan and add the onions and garlic. Cook until the onions are soft, about 10 minutes.
2) Add minced beef in batches and cook, stirring constantly with a fork to break up any lumps.
3) Stir in tomato puree, chili, chopped tomatoes, cumin, oregano and half the parsley. Season to taste, bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook, covered for 20 minutes.
4) Add potato and cook, uncovered for another 20 minutes or until the potato is tender. Mix in remaining parsley and season to taste with salt and pepper.
5) Serve hot or use to fill empanadas, tamales, pies, etc.

Une tradition purement québécoise

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Depuis mon plus jeune âge, j’ai toujours adoré le temps des fêtes et plus particulièrement le réveillon de Noël. Chaque année, ma grand-mère recevait toute la famille et bien que sa maison fut petite et la famille de plus en plus grande, elle insistait pour nous y accueillir.

Cousins et cousines à la petite table, adultes à la grande table, tous étaient réunis autour des plats que ma grand-mère avait préparés avec tout son amour. Plusieurs choses ont changé au fil des ans, la famille a grandi, les enfants ont vieilli et une nouvelle génération d’enfants a vu le jour, mais le choix des plats servis est toujours resté le même et c’est parfait comme ça. Bien que ma grand-mère nous aie quitté l’année dernière, la tradition continue et ce sont mes tantes qui ont pris la relève. Le choix de hors d’œuvres varie d’année en année mais le repas principal se compose encore des traditionnels ragoût de boulettes, tourtière, patates pilées, dinde farcie, ragoût de pattes de cochon et atacas. Chaque année, quelques membres de la famille tentent de voler la vedette avec des petites douceurs qu’ils ont concoctées pour l’occasion, mais la légendaire bûche de Noël de tante Johanne remporte toujours la palme. La tarte au sucre de tante Thérèse, les carrés d’amour et les carrés aux dattes de ma mère suivent tout de même de près.

Cette année, rien ne me fera plus chaud au cœur que d’emmener mes enfants dans ma famille et de les voir vivre les joies du temps des fêtes avec autant de fébrilité que moi à leur âge.

A traditional Christmas Eve in Quebec

Cet article est aussi disponible en français.



For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved the holidays, especially Christmas Eve. Every year, my grand-mother would welcome the whole family and although her house was small and the family growing constantly, she would insist on inviting everyone.

With the kids at the small table and the adults at the large table, everyone would gather around the yummy dishes that she had prepared with love. Much has changed throughout the years, the family got bigger, the kids have grown up and now a new generation of kids has arrived, but the selection of dishes has remained the same, and it’s perfect this way. Although my grand-mother passed away last year, the family tradition carries on with my aunts taking over for her. The selection of appetizers varies from year to year but the main course always consists of the same traditional dishes: ragoût de boulettes, tourtière (potpie), mashed potatoes, turkey with stuffing, ragoût de pattes de cochon and cranberry. Each year, some members of the family try to steal the show with a special desert that they prepared for the occasion, but my aunt Johanne’s legendary bûche de Noël (Yule log) is the grand winner, closely followed by aunt Thérèse’s sugar pie and my mother’s date squares and carrés d’amour.

This year, nothing will make me happier then bringing my kids over to the family gathering and witnessing them enjoy the holidays with as much excitement as I did when I was their age.

Christmas Down Under

I went searching for some Christmas Spirit this year, but not surprisingly, it was home that brought it to me.

I grew up in Adelaide in South Australia. Christmas in Australia is a different. To begin with, we don’t celebrate either Thanksgiving or Halloween and that means the lead up to Christmas starts somewhere around Easter. We bundle all our children’s hopes for unnecessary candy (lollies in the local vernacular) and all our adult gorging fantasies into the same day as our gifts. And our department stores put up trees in appreciation!

Now Australia has Christmas at the height of summer, but no one ever told my mother. Like many families we had roast turkey and all the trimmings every year. This is despite the fact that Christmas lunch was served in temperatures approaching 40 degrees (that’s outside the oven) and that we had no air conditioning. Yep. We perspired. So be warned and pick a well air-conditioned hotel if you are Down Under for the big day....or just go to the beach.

The heat explains an Australian phenomenon. It’s the wine known locally as ‘black bubbles’ or Sparkling Shiraz. Australian winemakers make red wines in the sparkling. Red sparkling wine may seem anathema to the rest of the world, but when you are faced with roast turkey on the hottest day of the year, you will embrace cold bubbly reds too. To be honest, some Sparkling Shiraz wines (they come in Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot forms too) can be excellent and surprisingly elegant. I like them and recommend that when down there you try them for a summer’s lunch.

Come to think of it, if I have one criticism of my childhood Christmases, then this was it: there was simply not enough alcohol. Please make sure that you adequately stock your cellar for the big day. I believe in two strategies for surviving Christmas; drink something you like and don’t say anything unless you think everyone else will find it funny.

Another celebration we share with Canada is Boxing Day. This is a vital piece of the puzzle that the USA misses out on. It has all the family togetherness of Christmas, all the food (leftovers) and all the enjoying of presents, without any of the stress. You spend no time worrying about whether her gift is just right or whether you spent more on him last year. You just relax with the people you love.

And you can enjoy all that leftover wine I made you buy.

Every Country has its Cookie

If any childhood memory of Christmas, beside that of finding a mountain of presents under the tree, sticks in my head it’s baking cookies with my mom. Every year, we would roll out sugar cookie dough and cut out shapes with festive cookie cutters before popping them in the oven. When we were done, sprinkles and icing awaited to decorate the cookies that we were carefully crafting. After all, they were for our most important guest. Paired with a glass of milk, the cookies sat out Christmas Eve in anticipation of Santa’s arrival.

Now as an adult, I like to partake in the various cookie traditions from around the world as the festive season happens upon us.

One of my favourite Italian cookies that are usually available at speciality stores this time of year are amaretti cookies. They come in two varieties, hard and soft. But believe me, the soft ones are the way to go. They melt in your mouth as they give way to a bitter almond essence. Serve these treats with a cup of strong espresso after dinner. The ones I buy come wrapped in colourful paper and would make a great addition to any stocking.

Austria has given the world Linzer cookies. Another sandwich cookie made with two sugar cookies and seedless jam, it’s a popular (and colourful) choice for the season. They look pretty on any cookie platter and even kids enjoy this simple choice.

One of the most difficult festive treats to make properly are the French macarons. A meringue based sandwich cookie usually filled with a ganache, these little confections come in a rainbow of colours and flavours. They’re a popular gift at Christmas time (in case you hadn’t bought me anything yet).

In South America, Alfajores, a shortbread like sandwich cookie filled with the south American pastry staple, dulce de leche, a caramelized condensed milk. The sweet butterscotch-type filling is a great foil against the rich crumbly cookie.

Even Scotland, the country whose most notable contribution to the culinary world is haggis, the blood sausage made of sheep’s stomach, has one of the most-loved cookies for this time of year­—shortbread. Buttery and crumbly, when made properly, shortbread has just a touch of sweetness, but is pure decadence as it melts on your tongue. The world’s most famous shortbread maker Walkers is found in Northern Scotland. What better way to ring in the New Year than some shortbread and some Scottish malt whisky?

And lets not forget our own very Canadian, and very popular treat—Nanaimo bars. A nod to British Columbia and the upcoming 2010 Olympics, these chocolate treats and buttery filling have become a household staple during the holidays, even if you don’t make your own.
The great thing about culinary customs is that they are completely portable and we can share them wherever we are, even if our hearts are somewhere else this time of year.

Christmas Eve: Memories of Abbruzzo in Toronto

Christmas is filled with tradition, and for every family this tradition is translated uniquely through the various forms of worship, activity and food. Perhaps the most unifying element of the holiday –and the one that everyone relates to – is gathering around the table and sharing a meal with your friends and loved ones. Being from an Italian background, I can confidently say that, after family, food is pretty much the most important thing regardless of event or circumstance. I have to hand it to my mother and her sisters (natch) – who every year would invite all their siblings, in-laws and their kids over for Vigilia, or Christmas Eve. I remember all of us crammed into my oldest aunt’s basement, mismatched tables and chairs pulled together to accommodate the two dozen or so people. This was otherwise known as the ‘adult table’. The kids always sat (happily) in the next room where we could talk about fun stuff and goof off as we grew more hyper about unwrapping gifts.
The dishes were rustic; replications of the simple yet hearty meals from my mother’s own childhood in Abbruzzo. On la Vigilia, the menu consisted of only fish-based dishes: we started off with cappelini d’angelo con salsa di acciuga (angel hair pasta in a tomato and anchovy sauce), followed by a selection of verza (cabbage) sautéed in garlic and anchovy, faggioli (beans), acciuga fritta con pepperoni (fried anchovies with dried peppers) and baccalà, salt cod prepared in a saucy broth. Side dishes would include polenta, salad and maybe roasted peppers. I always called it quits after the pasta because my young palate deemed the flavours of the other dishes gross, though I have since grown to enjoy them (except for the baccalà – that’s just never going to happen).

Dessert consisted of a selection of donut-like fritters called crispelle, pizzelle (thin waffles) and caggionetti, deep fried pouches that resemble ravioli but are filled a mixture of ground almond, chestnut and chocolate.
As a self-confessed foodie I love all types of cuisine. Over the past several years, I have also had the pleasure of incorporating my boyfriend’s Czech/Polish heritage into the holiday meals. I’m also looking forward to his family’s Christmas dinner of all the things he enjoyed eating since his own childhood: pickerel, bean soup and kapusniak (Polish sauerkraut soup), coleslaw and two types of bobálky , a traditional ‘bread’ served in either a fried sauerkraut or ground poppy seed mixture.

Today, such large gatherings have become too onerous for my mother and aunts to undertake and the younger generations have maintained the tradition only within their immediate families. Within mine, I am next in line to take it over. And I am ready, fork and knife in hand.

Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights

Hanukkah commemorates the victory of the Maccabbees in their 164BCE battle against the Syrian Hellenists and recapturing Jerusalem. When they returned to Jerusalem they found the Temple burned and a single oil lamp containing enough oil for one day. They lit it and miraculously it burned for eight days.

Today the miracle of the oil is symbolized by the lighting of candles in a Hanukkah menorah (menorah is Hebrew for lamp). There are nine places in the menorah – one for each night, plus the shamash (the candle used to light the others) One candle is lit on the first night, two the second and so on for eight days.

In the kitchen, the miracle of the oil is symbolized with foods cooked in oils. Potato latkes (pancakes) are probably the most well know of these foods, but latkes are really a tradition of the Ashkenazi Jews of Eastern Europe. Jews in other parts of the world have other traditional foods - Italian Jews eat chicken pieces dipped in batter and deep fried, in Alsace they eat goose, and Iraqi Jews eat kba dumplings – a potato dough stuffed with chicken, meat and raisins and cooked in oil. In Morocco it’s sfenj – a deep fried donuty thing (a fabulous donuty thing by the way) that’s a breakfast and snack food throughout the year. A similar thing is called loukoumades in Greece and lokma in Turkey. In Israel – and now pretty much everywhere - sufganiot (jam filled donuts) are eaten at Hanukkah.

Even though I don’t make a lot of Ashkenazi foods, I always latkes on the first night of Hanukkah and, because sour cream is my topping of choice, I serve them with smoked fish and a large salad. I can’t usually bring myself to eat those 600+ calorie sufganiot but if I do break down, I’ll buy them at Harbord Bakery in Toronto rather than make them.

This year the last night of Hanukkah will be on Friday (the beginning of Shabbat) and at my house that often means chicken. This year I’ll follow the Italian tradition of fried chicken cutlets. And for dessert – I don’t know, maybe I’ll run over to Harbord Bakery for one sufganiah and cut it into 6 parts!

Tradition is good on Christmas

Christmas was always something special when I was little. Back then I mostly cared about the gifts of course. The anticipation was huge and so was the appreciation. Back then in Poland we did not have access to Western goods but each year my uncle, who lived in England, would send us a package with all the goodies. My favorites were Mars, Snickers and Terry’s Chocolate Orange -yes, especially that one!

As I grew older I started paying more attention to the food my mom was cooking for this special day. In Poland, the most important part of Christmas is actually Christmas Eve. Traditionally, people would fast all day until the first star appeared on the night sky and then they would sit down for a one-of-a-kind dinner. The table was beautifully decorated and the centerpiece was a plate with wafers we would bring from church to share at the beginning of the meal to wish each person health, wealth and prosperity. The plate was situated on hay to symbolize Baby Jesus in the manger.

Some of the foods prepared for Christmas Eve would only be cooked for that one day. Usually it would take several days to prepare everything. There had to be 12 dishes for the 12 apostles and they would all be meat-less. This rule was in the meantime abandoned by the church that now allows meat dishes on Christmas Eve, but people still keep the tradition alive.

The table would be filled with food. There was carp (fried and in aspic); herring in oil; pierogi with cabbage and mushrooms as well as with potato and cheese; borsch with mushroom tortellini (we call them ears because of their shape); Christmas Eve Cabbage (my favorite no-meat version of bigos: sauerkraut with mushrooms, onions, prunes and lots of black pepper); dark rye bread and dried fruit compote to drink. For desert we would have things like kutia (wheat and poppy-seed with honey, raisins, hazelnuts, almonds, dates and figs) and poppy-seed cake. These were the typical dishes at my house, but there are many, many more.

And after dinner came gift time. When we were little our parents would send us to wash our hands after dinner and when we came back the gifts had magically appeared under the tree. And the fun began…

Navidad in Colombia

I remember as a little girl, the absolute thrill I felt during Christmas; and it wasn’t just about the presents and the treats. In my birth country, Colombia, we didn’t get presents from Santa Claus (or Papa Noel). Nope, it was all about sharing in the birthday of Baby Jesus (or El Niño Jesus). When I was a little girl, I used to think him the MOST generous of all birthday boys because it was he who left presents under the tree for me if I had been half way decent throughout the year (luckily, he was a forgiving sort).

Our faith and the celebratory mood of Christmas in Colombia always go hand in hand. Navidad- or Christmas in Spanish, really starts on December 7th. At dusk, the lighting of “las velitas” or the candles happens all over the country. Children and adults light candles and lanterns to make tunnels of soft, white light that beautifully illuminate the most humble of neighbourhoods, to the most spectacular streets and churches. This is done to celebrate the day of “La Virgen de la Immaculada Concepción”- or the day of the Virgin of the Immaculate conception- on December 8th. And since this is Colombia, there’s always a fiesta for every occasion, including music, buñuelos (savoury cheese fritters), cornmeal empanadas stuffed with meat and potatoes and the occasional firework display.

By December 16th, the Novenas (or daily prayers) begin for nine days until Christmas Eve, which is reserved for midnight mass followed by a feast at home. Meant to remind Colombians about the true meaning of Christmas, the Novenas are also a good excuse to gather family, sing villancicos (Spanish Christmas carols), and eat Christmas foods including my favourite- natilla (a set custard made with cinnamon that tastes like firm dulce de leche), served with a side of buñuelos, hot chocolate for the kids and a shot of aguardiente (literally “firewater”) - an anise-flavoured spirit made from sugar cane, for the adults. Roasted pig is always on the menu this time of year as are tamales, plantain-leaf steamed cornmeal masa packets wrapped around mildly chicken or pork and veggies.

But my favourite tradition has to do with engaging children to think about how lucky they are. I remember buying gifts, wrapping them and then going to deliver them to those less fortunate than myself- and I did this in Canada with my Colombian parents. If I ever have children, this would be one of the first things I’d like to do for Christmas. The expression on those kids’ faces has never left me. For at least one day a year, we can all be as generous as the birthday boy himself!

La Jamaïque : du jerk à la java

This post is also available in English.

Anita Draycott s’immisce dans les cuisines de la Jamaïque et constate qu’elle est capable de supporter le feu de la cuisine jerk.

« Les Blancs peuvent oser le jerk », insiste le chef Walter Staib, un expert de la cuisine jamaïcaine et l’ambassadeur culinaire des Sandals Resorts.

Ce chef d’origine allemande a amorcé sa carrière en Europe avant de se familiariser aux huttes où l’on sert des aliments épicés et fumés à la jamaïcaine, des soupers communautaires servis dans des églises et des comptoirs de coins de rue que l’on trouve partout sur cette île verdoyante.
Il arpente les marchés à la recherche de produits frais, explore les vergers de fruits et les jardins d’épices et visite les plantations de café et les distilleries de rhum depuis plus de 30 ans. Premier chef à être inscrit au temple de la renommée de la gastronomie des Antilles, il a longtemps étudié les origines de la cuisine jamaïcaine à l’Université de Kingston en Jamaïque.

Lors d’une récente visite, Staib accompagnait notre petit groupe de gourmets pour une tournée des hauts lieux culinaires de l’île. À notre premier arrêt, Billy veillait sur une dizaine de marmites qui mijotaient sur un feu de bois au Billy’s Roadside Canteen à Middle Quarters sur la côte sud. Les Jamaïcains affectionnent ce restaurant de style « service au volant » et vont en voiture commander leur repas du midi. Staib nous informe que le prix du repas dépend de ce que porte le client comme vêtements et de la voiture qu’il conduit. Pour une touriste comme moi, le commis me demanderait probablement 5 $ pour un plat de riz aux pois, les fameuses crevettes au poivre de Billy et une louche de porridge aux arachides vraiment délicieux. Billy cuisine les recettes traditionnelles qui lui ont été transmises par sa grand-mère.

Passant devant de nombreux étals de fruits et de très rustiques comptoirs de rhum, Staib en profita pour nous parler
de l’héritage culinaire de la Jamaïque.

Les exploitants de plantations, aussi bien anglais qu’espagnols, cultivaient l’arbre à pain, l’igname et le cassave qui
constituaient une nourriture économique à servir aux esclaves. Le mets national de la Jamaïque, le poisson salé et le ackee, a probablement été introduit dans la culture culinaire par les esclaves africains qui auraient apporté des semences de fruits de l’arbre d’ackee. Le fruit ressemble au litchi et a la texture de l’oeuf brouillé. Dans les années 1700, à l’époque où le réfrigérateur n’existait pas, le poisson était conservé dans le sel. Les marins de Terre-Neuve échangeaient alors leur morue salée contre du rhum jamaïcain.

Outre la muscade, le piment de la Jamaïque, le gingembre et le macis, les Jamaïcains produisent dix sortes de piments. Celui qu’on vénère le plus est le piment antillais Scotch bonnet utilisé dans la préparation des viandes « à la jerk ». C’est plus qu’une épice, car le piment antillais sert aussi d’agent de conservation. La recette originale de « jerk » demande de faire macérer la viande, souvent du porc ou du poulet, ou le poisson, dans un enrobage de piment, de thym, d’oignon, d’échalotes, d’ail et de piment de la Jamaïque qu’on fera ensuite lentement griller sur un feu de tiges d’arbustes de piments. Le mot « jerk » provient probablement du mot charqui qui signifie viande séchée en langue quéchua.

Au terme de notre leçon d’histoire culinaire, nous arrivons à Little Ochie, un restaurant de plage situé à Alligator Pond. Sur un tableau noir apparaît la liste des poissons frais du jour. Il suffit de passer sa commande et d’aller se désaltérer d’une bonne bière froide sur la plage en attendant d’être servis. Nous avions opté pour le homard servi avec un beurre au citron et à l’ail, un plat de crabe et de conque à la « jerk », accompagnés de la version calorique des beignets de maïs frits, une spécialité toute jamaïcaine.

Le lendemain, nous nous sommes rendus à Port Antonio sur la côte nord pour une excursion en radeau sur le Rio Grande. Mlle Betty, une dame d’un âge incertain, tient une cantine sur la rive. Le menu change chaque jour. On peut y déguster une soupe aux poivrons, un cari de chèvre, une fricassée de poulet ou un mijoté de callaloo. Gardez-vous un peu de place pour ses fameux biscuits au coco et au gingembre. Le chef Staib doit à Mlle Betty de lui avoir appris comment apprêter les aliments de la vraie cuisine jamaïcaine.

Un matin, Staib organisa une dégustation de café chez Firefly, un domaine situé au sommet d’une falaise à Port Maria où résida l’écrivain Noël Coward. Il y reçut nombre de têtes couronnées et de vedettes du cinéma au cours de sa célèbre carrière et c’est là qu’il repose en paix depuis 1973. En 1728, Sir Nicholas Lawes, ancien gouverneur de la Jamaïque, introduisit la culture du café sur l’île. Aujourd’hui, le café des Blue Mountains est considéré comme le meilleur et parmi les plus chers au monde. Vous pouvez déguster ce café avec bonne conscience, car ceux qui le produisent sont bien payés et les sols sont désormais soumis à des pratiques écoresponsables.

Au terme de ce voyage, j’étais devenu une véritable adepte du « jerk » et définitivement accro des saveurs épicées de la cuisine jamaïcaine. Si cette cuisine vous séduit autant que moi, vous pouvez rapporter une variété de sauces « jerk » et « barbecue » ainsi que du café Blue Mountains. À la maison, remettez-vous dans l’ambiance jamaïcaine. Invitez vos amis, démarrez votre barbecue et faites jouer la musique de Bob Marley.

Jamaica: from Jerk to Java

Cet article est aussi publié en français.

Anita Draycott steps into the kitchens of Jamaica and finds that she can stand the heat

“White men can jerk,” insists chef Walter Staib, a self-confessed expert on Jamaican food and the culinary ambassador to Sandals Resorts.


Indeed, the German-born chef, who began his career in Europe, has been jerkin’ and jammin’ elbow-to-elbow with local Jamaican cooks at jerk huts, church suppers and food stalls over most corners of this lush West Indian island, as well as foraging in the local markets, fruit and spice orchards, and rum and coffee plantations, for more than 30 years. The first inductee into the Caribbean Culinary Hall of Fame, Staib has extensively researched the roots of Jamaican cuisine at the University of the West Indies in Kingston.

On a recent visit, Staib led our small group of ‘foodies’ on a culinary island romp. The heat was on at our first stop, Billy’s Roadside Canteen in Middle Quarters on the south coast. Billy was tending about 10 Dutch ovens as they simmered over a pimento wood fire. At this Jamaican version of a drive-through, locals pull over, roll down their windows and order lunch.

According to Staib, the cost depends on how you’re dressed and what kind of car you’re driving. For tourists like me that translates into about $5 for a dish of rice and peas, Billy’s famous pepper shrimp and a scoop of surprisingly tasty peanut porridge. These traditional island recipes have been passed down, literally by word of mouth, from Billy’s grandmother.

As we rattled past several fruit stands and even more rustic rum shacks, Staib chatted about Jamaica’s culinary heritage. Both English and Spanish plantation managers planted starchy crops, such as breadfruit, yams and cassava, that were cheap fodder for the slaves. Jamaica’s national dish, ackee and saltfish, probably began when a slave brought an ackee seed from his native Africa and either dropped or planted it. The fruit is related to the lychee and has the texture of scrambled egg. Back in the 1700s Newfoundland sailors traded dried salt cod to Jamaicans for rum. Salting the fish was an ideal way to preserve it in the days before refrigerators.

In addition to nutmeg, allspice, ginger and mace, 10 species of peppers grow here, the most important being the fiery Scotch bonnet used in jerk. More than a spice, Scotch bonnet is also a preservative. The original jerk recipe called for marinating the meat, chicken or fish in a rub of Scotch bonnet, thyme, onion, scallions, garlic and allspice, then cooking it slowly over the ashes from a pimento wood fire. The word ‘jerk’ probably originates from charqui, which means ‘dried meat’ in Quechuan.

By the time our culinary history lesson was over we had reached Little Ochie on the beach in Alligator Pond. A blackboard menu lists the catches of the day. Order what you want and then chill out on the beach with a cool drink until it’s served. We feasted on lobster with lemon garlic butter, jerked crab and conch, as well as festival, Jamaica’s caloric version of cornmeal fritters.

The next day we drove to Port Antonio on the north coast for a river rafting adventure on the Rio Grande. Miss Betty, a lady of indeterminate age, operates a riverside canteen. Depending on the day, you might sample her famous pepper pot soup, goat curry, chicken fricassee and callaloo stew. Be sure to save room for the coconut-ginger cookies. Chef Staib credits Miss Betty, with teaching him all he knows about real down-home Jamaican food. One morning Staib organized a coffee tasting at Firefly, the cliff-hanging estate in Port Maria, where playwright Noël Coward lived, entertained royalty and movie stars and was buried in 1973. In 1728 Sir Nicholas Lawes, former governor of Jamaica, introduced the first coffee plants to the island. Now some of the world’s best and priciest java grows in the highlands of the Blue Mountains. You can drink the mellow brew with a clear conscience, as the farmers are paid top dollar and the crops are rotated to protect the soil.

By now I was a true jerk junky, hooked on the bold, spicy flavours of Jamaican cuisine. Converts like me can take home a line of Lifestyle products, including several jerk and barbecue sauces and Blue Mountain coffee. So now you can crank up your Bob Marley tunes, fire up your grill and enjoy a Jamaican reggae party in your own backyard.

What's a 14 course meal without an appetite, and a camera?

When I was invited to experience a 14-course dinner, my first thought was YES! But after I accepted, I couldn't help but wonder - could I really eat 14 different dishes? Not one to shy away from a challenge, I filed that thought way in the back of my head. However on the day of the dinner, it found it's way to the front again, and I couldn't help to try and save my appetite by only eating little bits here and there.

Click on the image to see all 14 courses.

Any sacrifices I made that day were well worthwhile, but thankfully, all of the food was perfectly portioned so that a normal human being could make room for all of it. The restaurant where I dined, Le Chique at the Azul Sensatori Hotel in Riviera Maya, Mexico, explains the concept like this:

"Our theory of small portions, just as the diversity of products and techniques is what makes a 14 courses menu into a real culinary experience in the Mayan Riviera.

Foams, bubbles, spheres, fake caviar, balloons, inverse Ravioli, cooking with Liquid Nitrogen…these are some of the forefront culinary techniques used at Le Chique through our 14 unique creations."

Intrigued? Then come along with me, bite by bite, as I show you what my taste buds experienced and my camera captured. Click here to start.

My weakness for junk food knows no borders

Every foodie has a guilty pleasure. Mine is junk food. When I’m at home, I do a good job of eating it sparingly, but when I travel, curiosity gets the best of me, and I end up in convenience stores checking out what the locals snack on when they get the munchies.

And that’s how I found myself at Wal-Mart in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Well, no, that’s a lie. I was told that it was the place to go to find good deals on a variety of tequilas, but while I was there, I was determined to find Mexican junk food.

So after picking out a $15 bottle of tequila (sadly, the $2 bottles were all sold out) and laughing at the strategically placed clip of Advil in the tequila aisle (yes, an entire aisle), I went on a junk food shopping spree.

The junk food at a Mexican Wal-Mart is not all that different from what you find in a Canadian Wal-Mart, and I won’t pretend that it’s a genuine cultural experience, but it was fun nonetheless. We have Tostitos in Canada. But do we have Flamin’ Hot Tostitos? And even if we do, surely, Flamin’ Hot must mean something different in Mexico than it does at home. And although I wouldn’t get to try it out until I got home, I couldn’t resist buying a variety of flavoured microwave popcorn packages. Even plain old popcorn sounds like an exotic treat; Mantequilla just means butter in Spanish, but it really does make it seem a lot more interesting.

Back at the hotel room, I begin indulging in my treats. Turns out the Flamin’ Hot Tostitos are appropriately named and tasty, and I’m glad to have a bottle of water nearby. The gum is really just Bubblelicious, but when you rename it Bubbaloo, it lends a whole new dimension of fun to the pink chewing gum. And my Bubu Lubu treat, which is really like a Viva Puff cookie with the marshmallow center and chocolate coating, brings a smile to my face when I look at the cute cartoon man on the packaging.

So tonight, in the comfort of my living room and thanks to the convenience of my microwave, I’ll be getting a taste of Mexico in the form of popcorn. Guilty pleasure? Yes. A little embarrassing for a food blog writer? Kind of. Tasty? You bet!

Good Morning, Gourmet

I did a really typical Canadian thing earlier this month – I went on an all-inclusive vacation to Mexico. Normally, us Canucks tend to head south for the sun, not the food, but this trip was a most pleasant exception to that rule.

Known as a “Gourmet Inclusive” resort, the El Dorado Casitas Royale by Karisma Hotels & Resorts where I stayed boasts decadent cuisine and all the inclusions that any foodie could dream of. Having drooled over the brochure for weeks in anticipation before my trip, I’m very happy to say that they didn’t disappoint!

Cheese-lover's dream come true: the spread I found in my room every afternoon.

After waiting in line for hours in various airports on the day of my arrival, it was almost surreal to step into the hotel's gorgeous lobby, be handed a glass of champagne and have my bags taken off my hands - now that’s what I call making a very tired, travelling girl feel special! And imagine how excited this Frenchie was to find an elaborate cheese plate waiting in the room. But it didn’t stop there. About an hour before dinner, a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, mini-cheesecakes, truffles and other sweet treats were delivered to my room. And then there was the room service menu.

If you're going to snack before dinner, snack well!

Pooped from my day of travel, I decided to skip the resto and order room service, which is included as part of the Gourmet Inclusive concept. I was intrigued when 20 minutes later, a delicious dinner arrived to my room. It was literally food for thought; my brain really couldn’t come up with a pressing reason to get out of bed for breakfast the next day when I could get fabulous food delivered to me. And so, the next morning, I woke up to a knock on the door, a smiling waiter, and a spread of French toast, waffles, eggs, bacon, coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice… Ok, so maybe I overdid it a little.

In-room breakfast for two. Or heaven. Haven't quite decided yet.

The next morning, (and the one after that, and after that one), started off in a similar way, only my request was more reasonable: coffee, fresh fruit and French toast, which I had quickly deemed to be my favourite. But how could I even try to resist it; a mixture of cream cheese and sliced almonds sandwiched between two slices of lightly battered bread, toasted to perfection and of course, syrup!

One morning though, I made it a special point not to indulge in room service and to save my appetite for the resort’s Kampai restaurant, where I was meeting Jeroen Hanlo, Karisma's Vice President Food & Beverage Operations for a Q&A. When I get there, he asks if he can make a recommendation – Chilaquiles. They were delish, and traditional, which is nice to see at an all-inclusive resort, where most serve up American type breakfasts that we can easily find in our own fridges.

I learn some interesting stuff from Jeroen – although his staff make it look effortless, a lot goes into preparing the food that they deem deserving of the Gourmet Inclusive label. They cook with only the freshest ingredients and even have an herb garden on the resort. And their staff must all have a passion for food. Their chefs all have impressive culinary backgrounds, and each member of the wait staff undergoes several days of in-class and in-restaurant training to ensure they provide impeccable service. And is it all worthwhile? Judging by my waiter Leo’s attentive service, his genuine smile and my plated of polished off Chilaquiles, I would say so.

Not your ordinary fruitcake

I know it’s only November, but I have a confession to make. I’m a closet Christmas-a-holic.

That’s right. I’m not the type that breaks out the office Christmas décor November 1, but I will listen to Christmas carols when I’m alone at home, or in the car, and I’m secretly hoping my husband will bend his rule about not putting up the tree until Dec. 1.

The holidays are a foodie’s dream come true. Any indulgence is fair game at this time of year, and it’s also a time to embrace food from different cultures as we all seem to agree that regardless of religious affiliation, there is something to celebrate as the end of the year draws closer.

One Christmas tradition that seems to run through the Caribbean and has now become part of my family rituals in Black Cake. Similar in some ways to Fruit Cake that we see in North America, Black Cake is made of dried and candied fruit, eggs, butter and flour, and a lot of alcohol. Usually around this time of year, the soaking of the dried fruit begins as we anticipate the making of this holiday treat.

My Antiguan mother-in-law uses sherry for her Black Cake, which we served up at as a parting gift to our wedding guests earlier this year. However, each family and each island does their cake a little different, and in most parts, rum is the alcohol of choice for the cake, at least in the finishing stage. I dare you to find a Jamaican who thinks otherwise.

The soaking goes on for weeks, and months even. And then about a week before Christmas, the rest of the ingredients are added to the minced up fruit and Black Cake emerges from the oven, but it’s still not ready yet.

It has to be dampened with more alcohol, until Christmas. This is called "wetting the cake." Each day, the cake is taken out of its foil and plastic wrapping and a small amount of alcohol is poured over the cake, then it is flipped and more alcohol is poured over the bottom. It is then covered again, and put back into the refrigerator awaiting its next wetting. While in North America, the gift of fruit cake is often dreaded, the gift of Black Cake is a sign of great affection. The expense and work that goes into such a cake lets the recipient know just how special they are.

And if you get the chance to sample black cake while in the Caribbean you’ll taste not only the local flavour, but you’ll sample a little of their soul too.

My mother-in-law is the keeper of our family recipe, but the New York Times printed one that's pretty good.

Beware the Isle of the Minator!

It is an incontrovertible fact that tasting the flavours of any culture can be one of the most rewarding experiences in travel.

There is however, an exception to every incontrovertible fact I have ever uttered. Allow me to ‘controvert’.

I must start by noting that the Greeks make wonderful wine. The reds deserve attention. Xynomavro is a black grape of northern Greece that can yield serious wines, worthy of ageing. Agiorgitiko is a widely planted black Peloponnesian grape with considerable power.

In fact, the Greeks are credited with the invention of fermented grape juice.

There is also a white of the refreshing, vibrant and citrus flavoured Assyrtiko that comes from the island of Santorini. I love it.

Armed with all this information you would think that a man of my peculiar interests would be able to secure a decent glass of oenos (wine) anywhere in Greece. Think again.

Let the traveller beware! Any country that makes wine makes bad wine.

They have been making wine in Crete for about 4000 years. I can only guess that not much of it was white. I certainly hope not, for their sake.

There I was in Heraklion, Crete on a day that must have hit 35 degrees judging by the melting street signs. I looked like a man who has been caught in a downpour without an umbrella, only it hadn’t been raining. Suffice it say, it was hot and I wanted a glass of white.

The bottle would not disclose the grape variety but I forgave that because it is a peculiar trait of most European wines. Besides, I was too busy worrying about the taste. Not having consumed ear-wax, I can’t be entirely sure of my tasting note. It seems the minatory is not the only scary thing about Crete.

So here is my tip, and one I think we might focus on next time. Learn to like the taste of beer. It refreshes the palate and cools the head when these inevitable little pitfalls of travel conspire against the senses.

Yiamas! (Cheers!)

A taste of Morocco, in your kitchen perhaps?

We know you were all salivating reading Lindan's post about her time spent in Morocco. Lucky for us, she is a kind and generous soul, and she has shared some of the recipes that she prepared while enjoying cooking classes there. If you care to try your hand at preparing them, just click here to download a complete list of recipes for a typical Moroccan feast! There is one catch though - we may not be dining with you, but we certainly appreciate visuals. So please, post some photos of your creations to our Facebook page. Enjoy!

This week's classroom: a Moroccan kitchen

I’ve been in Fes for the past 10 days running from morning til night and finally sitting down to write something. I was traveling with such a fabulous group last week – 7 friends from Wisconsin travelling together who loved to cook and eat, and also loved our riad (little hotel) and everything about Fes. Of course I think it’s impossible not to love Fes.

Shopping with Lahcen Beqqi

Our first cooking classes were with Lahcen Beqqi. The first morning we went to the souk to shop for ingredients and then straight to the kitchen to make harira, zaalouk, chicken b’steeya dates rolls. For our second class we made choukchouka, and okra salad, a great couscous with vegetables (and lamb) and a cream b’steeya for dessert.

Camel butcher shop – they display what they sell

We spent our last two days cooking with Danielle Mamane, co-author with Kitty Morse of cookbook – The Scent of Orange Blossoms - Sephardic Cuisine from Morocco. After spending two fabulous days cooking with her, she invited us for Shabbat dinner and my group (none of whom is Jewish) loved it.

Lamb Tagine

We cooked in her garden – salads, including fried eggplant, twice cooked roasted red peppers, and tomato salad with preserved lemons and then cooked meatballs (cinnamon onion sauce and another meatball dish seasoned with the traditional Moroccan spice mixture) ras el hanoot (head of the shop). For dessert we made almond and walnut macaroons and dates stuffed with almond paste. Danielle also made a number of other dishes – in case any of us were hungry. Nobody is ever hungry on cooking trips!

Cooking with Danielle Mamane

Fes is the most highly populated medina in the world (about 300,000 residents) and Fes el Bali (old Fes - the 9th century) and Fes el-Jedid (new Fes -12th century) are fascinating to explore.

Buying spices to take home

The entire medina is a labyrinth of narrow streets that can only be explored on foot. Donkeys and mules are the only means of transportation – and lots of handcarts delivering goods from place to place.

In a few days, I’ll show you some of the sights of the medina.

In the kitchen at the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel

Although I’ve lived my entire life here in Canada, I had never been to Alberta until now. I’m staying at the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel to be precise, which is in my opinion, a fairy tale castle. The scenery around here isn’t the only thing that’s spectacular – all it takes is one meal at the hotel to see that the cuisine here is fit for a king. So when the chance came up to meet the hotel’s Executive Chef Martin Luthi, you can bet I jumped on it. I’m even more thrilled to learn that we’re able to bring in a camera to capture what happens behind the scenes in the kitchen while they prepare a dinner for 650 guests!

Come with us as we take a peek!



Once the filming is done, I have the opportunity to chat with the chef for a bit. I’m impressed by the fact that Chef Luthi has been with the hotel since 1974 - he’d originally planned to stay only a year to work and learn the language, but loved it and decided to stay. I can’t say that I blame him. After discussing his background for a bit, we get to one question he found to be quite unique. It was passed along by my fellow blogger and a chef-in-training, Carrie, whom I excitedly tweeted as soon as my interview was confirmed. She wondered if the Chef had any guilty pleasures – you know, something you would never guess he enjoys. Although it’s not odd at all, I find it charming to learn that Chef Luthi loves comfort food just like the rest of us. And to him, that means the rösti and veal loaf that he grew up on in Switzerland.

Since I’m a little star-stuck by the chef, I ask if there are any celebrities he was excited to cook for. I’m thrilled to learn that he loves Robin Williams as much as I do, and am wowed as he shows me photos of himself with Alec Baldwin in the hotel kitchen. But his favorite celebrity meeting wasn’t a Hollywood A-lister, it was former astronaut Eugene Cernan and I have to agree, that’s pretty darn cool.

Later on, while I sit among the group of 650 guests enjoying the evening’s meal, I have a whole new perspective on the process it took to create it. And when we get to the Intermezzo course and the ice globes filled with champagne granité are brought out, there isn’t a person in the room that isn’t amazed by the chef’s work of art.

A special thanks to Sophie Bujold who captured a great shot of the intermezzo course.

Want to spice things up? Visit a market!

If variety is the spice of life, then spice is what gives our everyday existence meaning and purpose.

As a chef or a home cook, there a few things more powerful or versatile in our arsenal as a good spice cupboard. Take cumin for example. Its pungent flavour will add depth to a chili, or a familiar earthy tone to a curry. The seeds can be whole, toasted, or ground, and are a staple in every cuisine from Mexico to the Middle East, to India and even Portugal.

Or how about another familiar spice: cinnamon. It’s the smell that reminds of sticky buns hot out of the oven, or a sprinkle on your latte. But it’s also a great addition to game meat or a pot of slow-braised beef short ribs.

Reading about my fellow blogger Lindan’s trip to the Istanbul Spice Market has me a little envious, since it’s one of the oldest known spice markets in the world. After all, my own collection of spice-filled mason jars, probably far exceeds the traditional spice rack one would expect, filled with such treats as star anise, ajwain seeds for Indian cooking, and cardamom seeds for my family’s Pulla recipe.

But what other vacation spots have noteworthy markets? How about Marrakech Bazaar, in Marrakech, Morocco, where you’ll find carts overflowing with spices and dried fruit, among vendors of kebabs and kafta.

Or if you’re in Mexico head to Oaxaca’s market where you’ll not only find fine Mexican chocolate (the bitter kind, not the candy), but an interesting variety of munchies. Dried grasshoppers anyone?

It seems like no matter where you go, markets seem to be a place that reflect local culture better than anywhere else. They’re a way of life for the locals, but for tourists they open the doors to wonders. Even here in Canada, the Granville Market in Vancouver which has a heavy Asian influence (I actually found whole turmeric root there) and where you can get your Dungeness crab steamed and ready to eat, or Toronto’s St. Lawrence Market, a mainstay since the days of seaway imports via Lake Ontario, show who we are, the cultures we share and where we came from.

Markets may lead you to spices, but they are the roots of any culture.

The pilgrimage

Today we tend to think of the pilgrimage in an Islamic context and Mecca has become a synonym for any destination of abounding interest. However, there have been pilgrims as long as there have been gods and Delphi, Lumbini and Jerusalem have all seen there fair share of foreign worshippers.

There are also secular pilgrims. Some people have a passion and my particular obsession is Burgundy. The hills of the Cote d’Or shelter some of the finest Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs on earth. They also have a disproportionate number of good restaurants.





Burgundy is one of those places you have to see for yourself. It doesn’t make sense that two wines that come from the same grape variety planted twenty yards apart could taste very different. You understand when you are there. Different soils (it looks like a patchwork quilt), different aspects (some get more sun than others) and different techniques are just some of the reasons.

A little while ago, my wife, my dog (Cedar) and I took the pilgrimage. We rented a car and drove down to the little town of Beaune via Champagne. What? Took my dog? Yes. I was living in the UK at the time, so we all took a road trip. Europe is very dog friendly and she came everywhere with us. In fact, she sat at my feet at the Hostellerie La Briqueterie, although I now see their website say no pets allowed. This might not be a coincidence.

Back to wine. We rented a gite inside the city walls and used it as a base. By day we focused on producers, vineyards and lunch. Night was entirely devoted to finding the perfect dinner.


Domaine de la Romanée-Conti creates some of the greatest burgundies and greatest prices. The photo is evidence that we were there. This is one of my greatest holidays and now I sell Louis Jadot burgundies for a living. So find your passion and follow it…and take the dog if you can.

A cooking lesson in Sicily

Well, here I am, eating my way through another of my favourite places. I’ve been in Agrigento, Sicily for two days now, long enough to have forgotten airports, a plane full of crying babies, layovers that went on for way to long – and waiting four hour suntil everyone arrives and we can start our 2-1/2 hour drive to Agrigento. Anyway, all that is behind me.

The drive isn't so bad when the scenery is this beautiful

I’m at Fattoria Mose in Villagio Mose (just outside of Agrigento) and all is well in my world. Dinner is just over when we arrive but Chiara Agnello has kept the chicken with red wine and rosemary and risotto with mushrooms and eggplants warm for us. It would be wonderful even if we weren’t hungry – and we won’t be for the rest of our stay.

Pasta vongole - just another of the fabulous meals I enjoyed!

I’ve been coming to here for 5 or 6 years now and every visit is like coming home. The farm has been in Chiara’s family since the 18th century and she and her partner Ernesto are warm and welcoming hosts. The farm, organic since 1986, produces olives (and olive oils) almonds, pistachios, oranges and lots of other fruits and vegetables.

All smiles in the kitchen

During the week, Chiara (and Ernesto) will teach us to cooking Sicilian dishes – the fish is Ernesto’s department and Monday morning we drive 30 km to Porto Empedocle to the fish store. Sicilian food is simply prepared using only the freshest, in season ingredients. At the Casa del Pesce, the only fish and seafood available is that caught each morning.

Selecting the day's seafood at Casa del Pesce

Today we want ingredients for a seafood “stew” – octopus, baby squid, very small shrimp, mussels and clams. Each of these in cooked individually, chopped small, a few sliced green olives added and then drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice. We also have a fabulous pasta vongole and a spada pesca – a lightly breaded swordfish. It’s all incredible and we leave clutching recipes.

Today's ingredients

Tomorrow we’ll do eggplant dishes with Chiara and Wednesday we’re on the road to Piazza Armerina to the Roman Villa and to Caltigirone – a town famous for ceramics.

Columbus, Garlic and Wine: now that’s Italian, California-style

While we feast on turkey for Thanksgiving this week-end, our friends in the US are celebrating Columbus Day. One of the oldest and most elaborate events is in San Francisco where the Ital-American community pays homage to Christopher Columbus with a week-end long celebration that includes a Grand Ball on Saturday night and a procession of floats along Columbus Street from Fisherman’s Wharf to North Beach on Sunday. My mom and I had the good fortune of ending a tour of the California Coast in San Francisco on Columbus weekend a few years ago. And although the scenery along the coast was breathtakingly beautiful, our most vivid memories were of the ‘procession’ with its floats recreating Columbus' voyage, Queen Isabella and her court and of course, no Italian procession would be complete without the statue of the patron saint and the ‘Madonna’ (the Virgin Mary).

But the best part of the parade were the people. The Italians, most of them second or third generation from the southern regions who like my family emigrated in order to find a better life, were born and bred Californians yet they were undeniably Italian. Among the bands, the rosary and the loud conversations, it was incredible to experience the liveliness of the day.

But like any Italian celebration food and wine are vital. So, as the procession winds down in North Beach it’s time to eat and drink. The narrow, winding streets in North Beach are reminiscent of some Italian cities; most of the restaurants are small and intimate and take no reservations. My mom and I were lucky - we snuck in just as the procession was ending so we managed to get a little table in a restaurant overlooking Washington Square. We enjoyed an incredible meal, simple yet hardy and the most memorable dish was the fresh baked sourdough bread smothered in locally grown roasted garlic. The flavour was sweet, smooth and buttery. I have tried to roast garlic at home but it has never tasted the same, probably because the garlic is not as fresh and supple as the California variety.

California produces the majority of garlic grown in the USA - 87% or 200,000 tons per year. Gilroy is the Garlic Capital. The small city is located in the San Francisco valley and a place full of Italian immigrants who were mostly poor farmers yet they brought with them their love for the land and their traditions. Today the area is full of garlic farms large and small and of course wineries. So although the California Coast is certainly a must for first timers, for me the ideal California vacation is a week-end of roaming around the San Francisco Valley area visiting small vineyards, buying locally made cheeses, and having picnics in some idyllic spot feasting on fresh baked bread.

Fall Harvests

I'm piling on the sweaters, and socks, as the temperature is dropping in Toronto, and all I can think of is warm bowl of curried roast squash soup.

Fall is the season for comfort food. It's when I make chilis and stews, and hearty-stick-to-your-ribs soups.

But it's also harvest time. Apples, pears, plums are all ready for the picking now, along with a variety of squash, pumpkins, beets, Brussels sprouts and more. A pick-your-own apple adventure often leads to an afternoon of pie baking or better yet, caramel apples. And the smell of chestnuts roasting in the oven remind me that winter is just around the corner. The wine regions of Niagara and more recently, Prince Edward County host their festivals this time of year too as they begin to harvest the last crops before ice-wine season.

But as winter settles in over the next month or so, Canadian Bon Vivants who enjoy that fresh-from-the-farm experience will have to look a little further abroad. In Crete, for example, November is the time for the olive harvest. Imagine being able to walk up to an olive tree, heavy with fruit and being able to pluck it off with your own fingers from the low-lying branches, before ending your day with a freshly caught feast of seafood off the Greek coast. Talk about a foodie paradise.

Although personally, I might be more tempted by the warmer climes of California where the Napa Valley is still bursting with fresh figs and dates. Pair some of those with a hunk of soft cheese, a great loaf of bread and a bottle of wine and you've got an instant picnic to go, just don't forget the corkscrew!

And as fabulous as that sounds, I really need to just get a warm bowl of soup to fight off this cold I’ve been battling. I think I know just the kind I want too…

Don't cry, go to Argentina!

As the days get shorter and gloomier in the northern hemisphere especially in most cities in Canada. It leaves most of us depressed and wishing for spring again. Well the good news is that in South America spring is just beginning. A country on my wish list is Argentina. Everything I read and feedback from all my friends who have travelled there is that it is an incredible, diverse country with so much beauty. If you have ever had the pleasure to meet anyone from Argentina you will notice that they are extremely proud of their country to the point that they tend to compare every other place they visit to their country but nothing lives up to their expectations…

Okay so maybe I am being a bit too harsh on Argentinians, but they have every reason to be proud of their home. Buenos Aires is one of the most sophisticated cities on the continent and one of the most affordable when it comes to travel. Then there is the region of Mendoza in the Northwestern part of the country. This open country where ‘gauchos’ still roam the land and herd cattle is also well know for it’s wines, Malbec is the region’s best known but other varieties include Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay and Tempranillo. In Argentina beef rules. ‘Parrilladas’ or grilled beef is the most popular dish. The fresh air, breathtaking scenery and bounty of locally produced food make it so easy to abandon your palate and enjoy lots of wine and red meat. The saving grace is that there are great ways to burn off the calories. Bike tours of the vineyards and countryside are the best way to discover small areas of this vast region. This also gives you an opportunity to get to know the locals and truly experience Argentinian culture. And, of course an even better way to work out the calories is to spend the night dancing tango.