Sunday Mornings

It's time to say goodbye.

This week marks the last week of operation for the Calgary Farmers' Market at the Currie Barracks. In February they are scheduled to open in their new location. In the meantime, you can definitely visit the Kingsland Market.

We moved to Calgary seven and a half years ago. As we struggled with the adjustment to a new city while obligations kept us going back to Edmonton the Calgary Farmers' Market opened. We'd been so used to buying all our groceries at the Old Strathcona Market at home. We had our Saturday routine of quiet morning, the market, brunch, a dog walk, and some lazy time. It was awesome.

In Calgary, however, we really struggled to establish any sort of weekend routine aside from ordering pizza on Friday, drinking too much beer, and watching a hell of a lot of home improvement TV. We tried the Crossroads Market. It's good, but it never felt like the right fit for us. It was winter, so the outside market at Hillhurst Sunnyside wasn't an option (but traffic makes it difficult as it is).

Then the Calgary Farmers' Market opened. I'm pretty sure we went there on one of the first weekends. It was close, we met some great folks, and the food was great. We've been going pretty much every weekend since.

At first we were in and out, food in hand, rather quickly. Say hello to our favourite vendors, buy some groceries, and back home for more home improvement TV. Then we had kids. One of my first outings after a C-section was to the market. Even with The Monster as a baby we went and now lingered. Once the bouncy castle was a non-lethal option for her we stayed, played, ate, and then shopped. Coffee and tea in hand, of course.

In time, we've not only got to know the producers we buy from and their staff, but the food vendors who sell us our lunch, the balloon man, market staff, and an infinite number of other market goers. Vendors and staff ask about my knees and exclaim over the growth of the girls. When Smilosaurus/Death Wish decides to wander off people know who she is and stop her. This place is our Sunday morning home.

Just today we sat with our odd combination of waffles, pakoras, blintz, chai, and coffee, chatting with our table mates. (I'm not sure we've ever sat by ourselves for lunch.) The couple we sat with looked like they could have been models for Mr. and Mrs. Claus. We spent 45 minutes eating and chatting about organic farming and the history of large agriculture, in between cutting waffles and cuddles. Last week we chatted with two other folks about gifted and geeky kids. It didn't matter who or what, we've always had a friendly time there.

There are so many market options in the city now, fantastic options. Each one will have their benefits and downsides. Like us, those factors will change for you depending on your life circumstances. If it wasn't for our CSA membership we never would have ventured to Hillhurst-Sunnyside, for example, because the traffic is brutal from our end of town. But it is a great market. We haven't been to them all and I'm certainly willing to check them out. You should too.

I'll admit, I'm a bit worried that the new location will be too slick, too mall like. I'm more than willing to give it a good Sunday morning chance. Many of our favourite vendors will be there and I don't want to lose their food or our relationship. The girls are going to be without a bouncy castle for months, I hope they survive!

(As for dinner tonight, do wings and a beer count? Hubby and I had hot parent date of Christmas shopping with the girls after our trip to the market. We celebrated starting and finishing in a matter of hours with a trip to the bar.)

Kingsland Farmers' Market Opens

There's a new market in town. Well, not entirely new. Kingsland Farmer's Market opened this past summer, with a strictly outdoor show. Now, the indoor show is open.

The Kingsland Farmers' Market is a player in the not quite saturated market game in Calgary. There was a lot of controversy about the Calgary Farmers' Market this past year, controversy I have no interest in getting involved in. The Kingsland Market is a welcome response to all of it.

I say welcome because there is a host of new vendors at this market. Well, new to this regular of CFM and the Hillhurst Sunnyside Market. I am also totally biased because, with good knees, I could walk to this market.

The indoor market opened last week. The building, a not quite renovated completely former car dealership, is more spacious than expected. While only a few dozen of the vendors were open for the first day of operations, I can see that there is room for a lot of interesting sellers. As the building gets completed and the word gets out, I can see this being an attractive spot for vendors. Rumour has it that some new to Calgary vendors will be there soon.

It is also an attractive spot for shoppers. Already there is a wide variety of vendors with produce, meat, dairy, and bakery options. When the market started there was a really strong focus, on paper, for the make/bake/grow commitment. For the most part, that is there. But there are some fruit resellers there - mangoes can be found at times in the midst of Southern Alberta cucumbers. Then there are the treats - pastry, chocolate, wine, mead, cookies, and more pastry. Seriously, two great pie options here. That includes these gimmicky but very good pie pops.

The location is ideal for more that people in my neighbourhood. I predict that it will hit commuters well with the Macleod Trail location. If you commute that way how could you not stop? You have no excuse now.

Maybe it was because there were more vendors than shoppers that first morning, but I was hooked when one vendor loaned me cash when the ATM was down, another captured my runaway toddler, and one more kept the bag of groceries I forgot in her stall until I returned to claim them. I'm not saying you can't get great service at the grocery store, but in the months, as I get to know these people I hope that we can all laugh about the day my Evil Genius stole your stickers and ate all your goat cheese samples.

Backseat Adventure - Halifax Seaport Market

Scaling the steps and the crowds of the Halifax Farmers' Market in the Alexander Keith's Brewery is where I turned into a farmers' market regular. The stone hallways, dark corridors, over-crowded landing spaces, the cacophony of vendors and buyers, and the refuge of steps where I ate my noodles at the end of the trip combined to make a comforting and chaotic shopping experience.

Every Saturday in University I would empty my forest green Eddie Bauer backpack, leftover from high school, and make my way from one end of the peninsula that is Halifax to the other. I could only fill that backpack, using student transportation - my feet - as I was. Except in the fall when a pumpkin was in order. On those days I would carry my pumpkin in front of me, a harbinger of pregnancy much later in life.

There was the Polish spot where I could get some garlic sausage and a pretty passable pyrohy. One man selling mushrooms from his dark barns. The 50 cent piece of maple fudge I got every week. My loaf of bread, always purchased last, even though it meant backtracking. (Walking the market was like walking in IKEA, minus the arrows on the floor.) And I always ended where I could buy brioche and apples. The eggiest of brioche and the most wonderful apples that 14 years after leaving Halifax I desperately miss.

It was with more than a little nostalgia that I planned a market visit on our recent trip to Nova Scotia. We were staying at the Westin, right across from the recently redeveloped Seaport area. I thought it was just the cruise ship terminal and Pier 21. The signs for the farmers' market thoroughly confused me.

Halifax Farmers' Market is the oldest market in North America. And these signs were proclaiming that. But it was for the Seaport market. What about the Brewery? A little digging turns out that the new market is the old market, just moved, but the Brewery Market is still open. Confused? I was, so I committed to checking out the new market.

The completely updated Pier 20, located right next to the cruise ship terminal, housing the Halifax Seaport Market is a green building. Solar panels, windmills, and a garden on the roof And a living wall inside plus geothermal heat make it a very green building. A large open space, divided into the main floor and a second floor loft make up one immense shopping area.

There is still the cacophony of sound, and the crowds were even more ridiculous than in the Brewery, but the energy was not lacking. Nor were the vendors. Four long rows of vendors selling seafood, meat, fruit, cheese, tea, crafts, coffee, wool, jam, bread, vegetables nearly to the rafters, and a unique Nova Scotia kindness as you walked by. Not a single fruit reseller to be seen, and a lot of dirty fingernails on the folks passing you your change.

I spoke to a few of the vendors about the move, the ones I can remember from 14 years ago or from more recent trips to Halifax. They said it was certainly an adjustment, but they were happy with the move. They were already seeing more sales at the new market because there were bigger crowds and accessibility was easier. Some maintained a presence at both markets - the Brewery Market is still open and now competing with the Seaport market, only blocks away. One vendor, though, confided that the new market was better and they were going to give up the old one.

It will take some time to settle into the new space. They need another ATM or two, better power hook-ups for vendors, and eventually they will be open more days of the week (only Saturday for now). Judging from the crowds, however, Halifax has already warmly welcomed the new space.

As for me, I was sad to miss my beloved russet apples (too early in the season). A few samples of wine and scotch from Nova Scotia made up for that. So did people watching from the second story loft while I munched on the best dolmades I've ever had and a fine baklava from competing Lebanese and Egyptian vendors. Then there was the delicate seaglass necklace I found and the aptly names Dragon's Breath blue cheese I carried home on the plane. I'll admit that did miss the mysterious corridors of the Brewery, but not enough to complain. And the new market was enough to make me renew my fantasies of moving back to Halifax.

Aside

Well, this was no leisurely Sunday dinner. When Hubby got out of bed this morning he suggested a little day trip to Banff. His aching bones and sore neck were calling for a soak in the Hot Springs. And his tummy was calling for his favourite eggs benny at Bison. So I put my massive Sunday to do list aside and we loaded up.

Just one quick stop at the market for my special order Tonka Beans from Silk Road Spice Merchants! Oh, and mango lassi for the girls and coffee for him.

We had a great time! Brunch on the upstairs patio, a walk along the Bow River (and partially in it), and a not very leisurely soak in the pool. Hmm, the girls don't quite get the soak concept yet. It was a great day and certainly worth the frantic evening upon our return.

Thankfully, I did think ahead and took out some fish to defrost before we left the house. We picked up a box of fish from Dor-Bel Fine Foods when we went to the inaugural Kingsland Farmers Market. They sell all Ocean Wise fish from the West Coast. I didn't have a clue what Hubby actually took out this morning, so it was all a surprise. As we drove into town I took a mental inventory of the remaining groceries in the house to come up with something.

Hubby told me that it didn't have to be fancy. In my world this doesn't qualify because it took about 10 minutes, but it sure sounds fancy.  

Roasted Sablefish with Cherry Tomatoes.

Chop a clove of garlic, pick some oregano from the garden. Turn on oven to broil. Take a hot pan. Add a bit of olive oil. When the oil is hot add your fish, flesh side down. Leave it for a minute or two until it is sealed and you can easily flip it without sticking. Toss in the garlic, add the dregs of a bottle of white wine. Once that has reduced a bit toss in a pint of cherry tomatoes, the oregano, and season. Place it in the oven for 5 minutes or so. Serve with linguini.

Oh, and the rest of the family had some fresh peas with feta and mint, but I did not touch those. We know how I feel about peas.

Cross Country Preserving

It was supposed to be a vacation. Hubby and I travelled, sans kids, to Ontario this past weekend. We attended the wedding of a very special friend in a ridiculously gorgeous location. The weekend also afforded us the time to take leisurely drives, naps, and meals.

I promised myself that I wouldn't worry about capturing every little food related tidbit along the way. A difficult thing when you spend 3 days in the Niagara Greenbelt. So, my camera hardly came out of the bag, I didn't take a single note, and I even left both my laptop and crackberry at home. This girl needed a vacation from it all - kids, the full time job, the part time job, cooking, cleaning, and simply doing for everyone else but me.

So I read a novel, I ate more than I should have, I slept at many points in the day, I cuddled with my Hubby, and even took a spontaneous helicopter ride over Niagara Falls. It is, however, impossible for me to resist a farm stand. Especially a farm stand that declares the sale of sour cherries.

Remember, it was only last year that I discovered the truth about sour cherries. And I only found them that one time. I promised myself that if I ever discovered them again I would buy in bulk and preserve the bounty.

So I made Hubby reverse the rental car in someone's driveway and pull out his cash. After our day trip the cherries were carefully stored in the hotel mini bar. Then packed in a plastic bin, surrounded by gifted books and craft paper. The bin was taped up and made the journey back West in the cargo hold of the Airbus 320.

When we finally arrived home last night I pulled them out and despite my desire to sleep I spent an hour and a half pitting cherries. But when I make that first cherry pie the effort will be worth it. Sadly, the journey resulted in more than a few casualties. But I still got 11 cups of cherries, enough for 2 quart jars and 2 250 mL jars. I figure that is at least 3 whole pies or more than a small army's supply of cherry hand pies.

Cherry Pie Filling

Makes 1 quart

4-5 cups pitted sour cherries

1/3 cup water

1/2 cup sugar

3 tbsps cornstarch

1. Clean and sterilize jar and lid - if you intend to can and not use right away. Keep hot

2. Bring water and sugar to a boil.  Add cherries all at once and let cook for 5 minutes.

3. Combine cornstarch and a few tablespoons of the liquid from cooking cherries. Stir until smooth. Add to cherries and return to the boil. Let boil 30 seconds.

4. Immediately pour into the hot jar. Seal with clean and sterilized lid. 

5. Process for 30 minutes in a boiling water canner.

* Scale up this recipe depending on your total amount of sour pitted cherries.  

Backseat Adventure - Penticton Farmers' Market

The Backseat Gourmet really took the show on the road last weekend. Well, Hubby and I did. Our little eaters stayed home while we went to the Okanagan Food and Wine Writers Workshop. We lived up to the Eater title, and then some.  Throw in a lot of drinking, laughing, touring, sabering, and foraging and you've got a lovely four day Mommy and Daddy vacation.

The highlights from the trip are many.  Sublime meals, foraging our own lunch, actually learning how to taste and describe wines, and learning from other fascinating writers and editors.  Today I'm going to bring you our rainy morning excursion to the Penticton Farmers' Market.

 
I was eagerly awaiting our trip to the market after a particularly splendid and gloriously special meal on our first night of the workshop. Catered by Joy Road Catering the meal featured some spectacular food - lamb, a ridiculously good Santa Rose plum tart, and the most phenomenal green beans ever to have grown.  I couldn't stop talking about the beans for days. Simply steamed and tossed with pickled cipollini onions they were the pure definition of fresh and tasted like the colour green. When I found out that I could buy them from a vendor at the market I repeatedly told my fellow participants that any and all beans were mine, and only mine.  I'm sure it did little to ingratiate me to them, but I needed those beans.

When we arrived for breakfast the rain was looming.  And by the time we finished there was quite the downpour drenching the streets.  A few brave souls that actually thought to bring umbrellas started the walk while the rest of us remained behind, waiting for our short bus. By the time we reached the market and got underway the anxiety was creeping in. Coffees in hand and introductions made we ventured down Main Street to visit the stalls.  

Vans and trucks parked behind white awnings.  Some vendors without tents with drops of water glistening on the squash and apples.  Water dripping off the hats of grizzled men committed to their product. Two simple blocks of vendors selling their own veggies, garlic, herbs, sausage, coffee, and baking. Nothing fancy, little in the way of crafts, and more organic produce in one section that the largest Planet Organic in the country.

With the Similkameen Valley as part of the catchment for the market the number of organic producers was a significant portion of the vendors.  The Similkameen Valley has a disproportionately large number of organic producers.  I made the observation that there were more organic vendors than conventional in the market. It was a refreshing change.

It was also refreshing to know that of the vendors we stopped at we were actually meeting the producers.  They could tell us everything about each particular tomatoe or apple.   Their hands were dirty from picking that morning, their trucks low on gas from the trip into town. This one tomatoe guy from Naramata knew the name of each and everyone one of his probably 20 different kinds of heirloom tomatoes. He told us about the complex pen pal relationships he and other growers have to exchange and save seeds.  He entertained a curious four year old with trick tomatoes and dancing gourds. And when I went to pay I finally noticed his classic scale. How cool is this?

But what about those green beans? At every stall I thought, "this is it!"  We met lovely farmers and oohed and aahed over persian cucumbers, tiny tomatoes, and juicy pears.  Finally, finally we got to Gabi's stall. I pored over her pretty baskets of cute little veggies, desperate for those beans.  Someone grabbed the last bunch of cipollini onions while my eyes wandered over every basket and bag in the intense desire for those tender strings of green.  It may have been the rain, but I think I cried a little when told that the beans were sold out.

Sigh.  My heart was marginally mended when Julie shared with me one quarter of the last plum tart from Joy Road Catering's stall.  The tart they saved just for her. We joked about our tears of joy having calories that weekend, but mine at that moment was just a little bit sad.

I would be remiss if I did not thank Jennifer Cockrall-King for organizing such a fabulous workshop.  Wow, this Food Girl rocks! She organized a tremendous slate of events, with meals that can hardly be described by my words.  She brought together a fantastic and diverse group of people that were teasing each other and sharing glasses by the end of the weekend.

I also have to thank our host that morning, Mathew Batey, the executive chef at Mission Hill Winery.  More on him to come.

PS  What are you doing on Wednesday morning? I'll be on Breakfast Television here in Calgary, cooking with some lovely pears that I brought back from our trip. I hope you'll join me.

Backseat Adventure - City Market Edmonton

Hubby and I missed the whole loft train.  For awhile we referred to our flooded and unfinished basement as a "New York Open Concept Loft-Style Basement".  Had we eschewed getting a dog I think we may have found ourselves one of the original warehouse conversions in downtown Edmonton. Okay, I would have fought for it and he would have defended his manly right to a lawn.

Back then downtown Edmonton was a place that positively died after 5 pm.  Other than a handful of restaurants, a mediocre casino, and lots of offices filled with hard-working lawyers there wasn't much going on.  And what little was happening was the sort of activity that most of us don't want to see. No matter how cool the space I never would have convinced him to move there. I still don't think I could convince him - even without kids and dogs and the new lawn - but the City Market could possibly be tipping point. 

Downtown Edmonton now is certainly not the place I wanted to move to 10 years ago, and not even close to the place it was 6 years ago when we left the city.  Damn, it is a vibrant place! There are phenomenal restaurants that actually serve more than lunch, lofts and condos sprouting up everywhere, and retail stores that sell gorgeous, trendy, and expensive stuff. There's even a grocery store.  Not a corner store, but an actual grocery store right in the core.

The City Market, however, is an homage to the old nature of a farmers' market - bringing produce to the urban markets. Located just off Jasper Ave, on a street filled with refreshed and new buildings, the City Market brings over 60 vendors - both food and craft - to the new denizens of downtown Edmonton. it also brings people tired of the crowds, strollers, and popularity of both the Strathcona and St. Albert farmers markets. Plus, they have really cool traditions.

My sister-in-law and I - kids in tow - hit the market on what was probably the first really good weekend for local produce.  There were carrots, peas, greens, potatoes, herbs, strawberries, scapes, baby beets, and those fabulous sour cherries. We sampled and drooled our way through the stalls.  She's been there before so she pointed out some great crafts (I got a fantastic dress for The Monster) and knew where to get the better deals.  We weren't crowded with our strollers and my nephew flirted his way into the hearts of everyone woman he met.

It was really fantastic to see the area so alive, so vibrant.  As a former Edmontonian I will fully admit to pride in the city, the area, and especially the market.  In fact, the only thing that spoiled my morning was the lady who stole my strawberries.  Seriously, I said quite distinctly and not loudly that I wanted two pints of strawberries to the vendor and this lady pushed her hand through the person next to me and my sister-in-law and practically snatched it out of the vendor's hand. Considering that there were only three pints left and one of them as already in the hands on my sister-in-law I, being a nice person, said nothing and settled for one pint. 

There must also be something special about the atmosphere there.  Immediately after I delivered a huge speech about how Smilosaurus ate everything but raspberries she started grunting, pointing, and rubbing her hands together while I paid for my peaches and raspberries. For those of you not up to speed on baby speak that means "Please, please, pretty please can I have that? NOW!" So I grabbed another pint, we sat on the curb, and promptly ate them all. Yup, there is definitely something special about the place.  

Reminders

This was a weekend of reminders.  Reminders that we have some damn good friends in our lives, reminders that there is indeed such a thing as summer, and reminders of what a farmers market can be.

We've been in Calgary for almost 6 years now, after living in Edmonton for most of my life (university and grad school being the exception).  We've made ourselves a very nice life here, one we have no intention of leaving (are you listening, Grandma and Baba?).  But sometimes it is just necessary to connect with loves from the old life in Edmonton.  Sure, we go up there far more frequently than we would probably like, but we spend all our time driving between family that we never get to spend time with our old friends.  So even though they had to stay in a hotel because of our renovations, some old friends came down for the weekend, just to hang out. 

And hang out we did.  The four kids ran around with hoses and jumped on the beds while my girlfriend and I nursed gin and tonics.  Yes, we are that kind of a mom.  We chatted non-stop and it felt like the days when we used to sit on the porch of our old place and watch the world go by.  Except now the world was full of screaming toddlers instead of drunk university students. So really, not that different.

Yesterday we drove South to Millarville to the farmers' market.  We've been going to the Calgary Farmers' Market so long that I really had forgotten what a true farmers market can be - actual farmers selling from a table in front of an open truck.  It truly was a shock to my system after nearly 6 years at the Currie Barracks.

So much is being said about the Calgary Farmers' Market.  Honestly, I'm staying out of the fray. We do enjoy going there on Sunday mornings, and do buy most of our groceries from there. I talk to the regular vendors that I shop from, catching up on their gossip and getting the latest from the fields. And I'll be honest, we spend a lot of time at the bouncy castle - my kids are the ones hogging it and being so damn cute that all other parents stop to watch (well, that's the way it seems to me).  As I've gone from daughter to student to adult to mom and seen the evolution of my market goings the Calgary Farmers Market seemingly works just fine.

Then I went to Millarville yesterday and my comfort all got blown away.  Seeing those trucks and the dirty hands counting out my change reminded me of all that is good about the market. The direct farm to consumer relationship, the open air, and even the crowds fighting for samples of something new and interesting.  I've been treating our weekly market trips as a good family outing, but also like only a bit more than a trip to a really friendly supermarket.

I've decided that for the rest of the summer I'm going to visit more markets, more parking lots filled with trucks, tables, and farmers.  I'm going to see what we can discover and what new people we can meet.  And I'm taking you along.  

It's summer, let's eat.

Farm Visit

Meet Jonathan Wright of Thompson Wright Small Farm.  This summer he and his partner, Andrea Thompson, and all the many folks they have helping out, will be our farmers.  They will also be the farmers of a few hundred other folks who signed up to be part of the Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program that Jonathan and Andrea are running off their farm East of Calgary.

Yesterday I took the girls to meet the farmers, the farm, and of course the animals.  Sadly Hubby was stuck with the necessary landscaping work at home. (One day we will have something other than mud.)  We drove in the first real day of heat and sunshine.  While the girls slept I ruminated on the luxury and necessity of supporting local agriculture through a CSA.

Yes, I said luxury.  Hubby and I have been talking about this a lot lately.  While feeding our family with the best possible ingredients, sourced as locally as possible is of prime importance to us (well, me, mostly) we have to admit that it is a middle class luxury.  It shouldn't be, but it is.  And for now, it is one that we also see as a necessity - as long as we can afford it. Maybe that's why I'm returning to work tomorrow?  It is a necessity - not just for the health of our family, but for the health of a diverse agricultural economy and a diverse farming community.

Jonathan and Andrea are perfect examples of people leading by doing.  They haven't spent a lot of energy getting involved in the foodie community or even selling what they do.  But they've spent a lot of time on their farm, working it and their animals to produce food.  Food, simple food.  Food that contains the sweat of a small family, some horses, water buffaloes, yaks, and the additional sweat of the supporters and helpers that come to the farm to work.

In speaking to Jonathan yesterday he said something that just ran through my brain.  "In order to have a sustainable world, a truly sustainable culture, we have to work."  It echoes comments made by Wade Sirois at the Local 101 event back in March.  He reminded the audience that no matter how you look at supporting local agriculture it means you have to cook.  It all comes back to effort, to work.  I better get The Monster trained up as a sous chef soon because we're going to have a lot of cooking to do this summer, thanks to Jonathan and Andrea's efforts.

This is the second year for the Thompson Wright Small Farm CSA.  In speaking to Andrea yesterday she is excited about the coming months and the supporters they have this year. The commitment from their members is strong, with most at the farm to support the ideals and work, not just get some good groceries.  

The farm is run by animal and people power.  When you drive onto the property you are struck by the lack of a powered tractor and the simplicity of the old metal plow.  I remember my dad showing me the one he used as a boy on the farm, long since rusted and now serving as a jungle gym to city kids visiting the farm.  Not at Thompson Wright.  The metal plow sits clean, almost proud, after recent use readying the fields for this year's crop of broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, peas, parsnips, kohlrabi, kale, peppers, onions, tomatoes, and garlic (and more).

The girls were in heaven running around to visit the animals.  Smilosaurus loved to pet the little chicks, but did not like getting licked by King, one of the two water buffaloes on site.  The Monster was fascinated by the chickens, gleefully calling, "Chock, chock chock!" to give them their molasses covered grain.  And who couldn't resist a three week old yak calf named Wild Bill?  Poor little guy lost his mother when he was born so I predict a gentle giant after his stint with bottle feeding is over.

It meant a lot to me to have Andrea, her son, and Jonathan welcome us and our toddler mayhem to the farm.  On the way home The Monster spoke constantly of the horses, mainly Sarah who wasn't big enough to be working yet, and her farm.  No longer was it the farm, it was her farm.  In a way, she's right. I do insist on giving credit where credit is due and that belongs to Jonathan and Andrea.  But they are our farmers.

Eating Injury and Recovery

Barring a bizarre accident with a sharp knife and raw chicken, feeding your kids should not cause you injury or illness. Or so I thought. It seems that this nursing mama has developed mastitis. Fun times.

In order to give myself a chance to recover from my fourth illness (and definitely the worst) in the last month I decided to call in reinforcements. My mom came down for a few days to help us out. Today she made turkey stock from the Thanksgiving carcass, cleaned up my garden (which she planted in the first place after Little Miss Sunshine was born), took the Monster for walks, and baked cookies. Yum, cookies.
Okay, so I posted an oatmeal cookie recipe last week but these are amazing. Soft and chewy but with a little bit of crunch. Nutty without any nuts. Sweet without being cloying. Mom created the recipe after we tried some from a vendor at the St. Albert Farmers' Market a few years ago. That market is only open for a few months, so we needed to recreate them in order to continue the yummy love. After a few tries she came up with this recipe - even better than the original.

My theory is that you could make it with less sugar, but they aren't nearly as sweet as you think they might be. When I make them for myself I think I will try it with only a cup of sugar.

When it comes to your seeds, make sure they are fresh. Poppyseeds can go rancid easily when stored, so check any that you use before you stir them in. With regard to the pumpkin seeds, you can go with raw ones as well - with no change in flavour. Today we used roasted, salted ones because those are the most common ones found in the grocery store. We found the salted ones make no difference to the taste either.

Birdseed Cookies
(makes about 4 dozen)

1 cup butter
1 1/2 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 cups rolled oats
3/4 cup sunflower seeds
3/4 cup roasted pumpkin seeds
1/4 cup flax seed
1/4 cup poppy seeds
1/2 cup finely chopped dates
1/2 cup chopped dried cranberries

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Cream butter and sugar together.
3. Add eggs and mix well. Mix in vanilla.
4. In a separate bowl stir together the flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Slowly add to the butter mixture.
5. Add oats and mix until just combined.
6. In a separate bowl combine the sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, flax seeds, poppyseeds, dates, and dried cranberries. Stir into the cookie mixture until well combined.
7. With wet hands roll a heaping tablespoon of dough into a ball. Alternatively, use a small ice cream scoop to form balls. Press down slightly on the cookies.
8. Bake for 8-10 minutes until lightly browned.

It All Started With Some Vindaloo

The Monster was not quite a year old. At that point we were still eating separate meals from her. She ate, and then we ate. That night she'd eaten her dinner of finger foods and we sat down on the couch to watch the Stanley Cup Playoffs and eat our dinner. Lamb vindaloo was on the menu. No, I didn't make it from scratch. It was probably a spice mix, but it filled our tummies well. We were happily eating and the Monster kept climbing over us. It was exasperating. We thought she was just seeking our attention (and rightly so). Then we noticed that she was reaching for our forks.



"Do you think she wants our food?" Hubby questioned.

"Let her try it and we'll see," I responded, fearful that the first bite would cause heartburn, nausea, and the dreaded tears of baby barf.



Famous last words. She ate half my plate that night. And she hasn't stopped.



On this blog I will document our food adventures, through her eyes, mine, and those of our new daughter as she begins to explore food beyond her Mama's boob in a few months. We'll visit local and regional producers and foodie haunts. We'll explore the ethnic grocers and bakers and festivals. And we'll eat. Boy will we eat.



On the topic of Indian food, I want to share a local source for Indian take-out and spices. I first found Shef's Fiery Kitchen at the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Farmers' Market here in Calgary. She's now moved to the Calgary Farmers' Market, our Sunday morning hang-out. The menu changes for fresh food, but a mango lassi can always be found. While the lassi is always a hit with the Monster, we often order some of the frozen meals. Before our second was born these were great on a weeknight with some basmati and roasted veg. Who am I kidding? It is still good a weeknight meal as I try to feed the family with a newborn demanding my attention. And she still devours the vindaloo, the butter chicken, the kuka pakka, and the palak gosht.



Sources:

Shef's Fiery Kitchen

Calgary Farmers' Market