Tag: Brickworks

Choking On Sun

On January 21, 2011

Appropos of nothing, I’ve been thinking about sunchokes recently.

Actually, there is a reason I’m bringing them up; I enjoyed a beautiful dish with them before I went to New York. Accurately described as “gnarly little tubers”, they’re also called Jerusalem artichokes, though they more closely resemble ginger root than normal artichokes. Yummy grocer Dean and Deluca happened to be conveniently close to where I stayed earlier this week, and it was with much interest that I noted they carried the nubbly little root veggie. Upon setting eyes on them, I was immediately taken back to my memorable evening spent at Toronto’s Bricksworks (run by the Canadian not-for-profit company Evergreen) for their inspiring inaugural GE Cafe Chef’s Series.

With the aim of simultaneously entertaining, and educating Torontonians, the series boasts an impressive array of big names in the Canadian food scene; writer/host Ivy Knight, Chef Anthony Rose, and food/wine journalist James Chatto are just some of the impressive names who will be taking part in the bi-monthly series. The combination of info and eats was launched a few weeks ago with Chef Jamie Kennedy, winemaker Dan Sullivan, and Executive Director of the Ontario Culinary Tourism Alliance, Rebecca LeHeup. Together, the trio talked up the role of Prince Edward County and its bounty of incredible food and wine producers. Personal experiences, cooking techniques, and local events were all chatted up between the beautiful four courses served as part of the event.

Prince Edward County is located about two hours east of Toronto, and contains the town of Picton, popular with summer holidaymakers. Nearly everything served within the gorgeous three-hour event was from the area -including the sunchokes Chef Kennedy used for a beautiful, velvety soup. Chef Kennedy told the assembled crowd how he came to buy his farm in the County, his love of the land, and how his passion for food and wine have guided his style of cooking -fresh, approachable, and deeply connected to the concept of terroir. His original idea was to serve goat in its various aspects: the cheese, the milk, and the meat. However, unable to find local goat meat, he substituted lamb, and… it was magical. Lambs shoulder was braised in goat milk (an Italian technique, the chef noted), while leg was served roasted, succulent and sweet; the lot came with little happy pillows of goat cheese gnocchi, laced with a thin, flavorful gravy. As I told Chef later, I experienced a “Sally-in-the-diner” moment eating it. No kidding. And to think it was the first time the award-winning Order Of Canada chef had tried that recipe! Color me shocked… and utterly, thoroughly, deeply satisfied.

Satisfaction continued with a luscious dessert of homey apple strudel with nutmeg ice cream; I wound up skimming the serving dish with my finger, which should tell you something about how often I eat homemade ice cream. Kennedy happily shared the recipe after he’d carved up pieces for everyone. There was something truly rewarding about seeing Kennedy work in the simple Brickworks kitchen, with its home-style oven and smooth-top elements. The way he carved bread, chopped veg, even washed and sharpened his knife conveyed both intense skill and innate gentleness. I enjoyed watching him go about his culinary business as much as the information being provided by LeHeup and Hill, though in a different way; it was, really, a beautiful, silent, poetic counterpart to the torrent of words and images, a soothing glass of red to the sparkling bubbly of LeHeup’s passionate presence.

In the wine vein, Sullivan’s handywork paired beautifully with every course; the affable vintner shared stories of his challenges and quickly, clearly answered all questions directed at him with simple, everyday language. I especially enjoyed the red selection he brought, a rich, fruity red that operatically sung with the succulent, tender meat of the main course. Sullivan planted his vines in 2001, and he joked about having “an overnight success in a decade” with Rosehall Run. Kennedy’s interest in the region was, he told us, sparked by the wine potential there; he described himself as a “committed oenephile”, and it showed in everything he cooked for us. “What grows together goes together” was the theme of the evening, and I left determined to visit Prince Edward County once the nicer weather comes.

But, being in New York this might prove difficult. We’ll see. In any case, I have a whole new appreciation of the riches of the region, the talents of its food producers and winemakers, and just how good sunchokes -despite their “gnarly” appearance -really are.

When Culture is Delicious

By Catherine Kustanczy

On October 7, 2009

In food

“F*ck Nuit Blanche.”

So said by a good friend of mine, when asked about whether she had partaken of the all-night “art thing” that takes Toronto by storm every autumn. We both smiled. I knew what she meant.

I have to admit, the past years I’ve attended have been wonderful examples of community colliding with curiosity. Everyone is out and about, pointing, looking, chatty, silent, laughing, and having a rambling nice time. Then again, there are also whacks of drunken people stumbling along in bad outfits posing as serious artistes. There’s also dreadful lines. And rampant pretentiousness. And gimmicky aplenty. And as Lynn Crosbie pointed out, there’s also the annoying kid-factor. Eeek.

I didn’t attend this year’s Nuit Blanche. It wasn’t out of any malice so much as the strictures of gut instinct telling me to save my energy. Not only have I been sick more often this year than in any other, but I had what I consider a higher calling: I was attending the Brickworks Picnic the following day. It’s no surprise to followers of this blog that food is a passion for me; it’s also art, and so it follows that I put my arty Nuit Blanche-esque, curious-arty energy into meeting chefs, sampling cuisine, and contemplating flavours, colours, textures and shapes. I wanted to engage in a person-to-person-to-soil-to-mouth-to-person connection -otherwise known as, yes, culture.

The Brickworks Picnic is all about creating awareness of local food issues and linking local food sources with chefs, and, in turn connecting that with consumers, who become, in the process, more involved in the entire symbiotic relationship between production and consumption. Intended as a benefit for Evergreen and Slow Food Toronto, the Picnic boasted an impressive array of beautiful food, gorgeous wines, and curious attendees. With 1300 people, the affair was anything but intimate, and yet, in meeting and shaking hands with such wonderful, talented people as Brad Livergant (of Veritas Local Fare), Ezra Title (of Chez Vous Dining), and Olivia Bolano (of All The Best), I felt an immediate connection with the arts of both cooking and growing.

One of the trends I noticed at the picnic was the theme of Latin and South American-influenced dishes. There were empanadas, tongue dishes, salsas, and beef, all infused with the gorgeous, rich flavours of afar -and yet made with ingredients that were local. How wondrous. Same goes for the many Persian and Middle Eastern nibbles, including yummy stews, spreads, kabobs, and delectable Eastern European treats (including delicate plum dumplings, above, courtesy of Hungarian-born David Kokai of Loic Gourmet -Köszönöm, David!). Again, the incredible richness of my own home province was made clear to me through this magical melange of flavours. The riotous meeting of colour, texture, shape and flavour with each and every station I encountered made for a beautiful, memorable afternoon.

The time at the Brickworks Picnic was even more enhanced by the beverage education I received courtesy of the many wineries on-site for the event. Reps at each were truly friendly and happy to pair dishes being consumed -or ready to be consumed -with their offerings. Owing to a chilly, rainy afternoon, I stuck to warming red selections. My favourites included Malivoire, Rosehall Run, Frogpond Farm, and FlatRock Cellars. After that, I headed over to Merchants of Green Coffee, where I gleefully roasted coffee beans in a metal pan with a lid over a high gas flame (“Think of Jiffy Pop!” I was told). Following a thorough education in the terroir of coffee beans and the proper methods of brewing, I enjoyed a gorgeous, rich cup of the resulting brew. With a syrup-meets-molasses flavour countered by a nice bitter astringency, it was coffee that made Timmy’s look like the Naked Emperor it truly is.

Merchants of Green Coffee was ideally situated between two of my favourite items at the Picnic: Jamie Kennedy‘s scrumptious bean pakoras and Oiko‘s warming, satisfying Orange Pekoe tea. With dampness abounding through the Brickworks’ environs, it was a relief to be afforded (make that saved by) so many cups of gorgeous, delicately-brewed tea, and a few crunchy-soft, flavourful (and deeply satisfying) bean pakoras with either roasted pureed eggplant or tomato raita toppings.

In watching the chefs and producers pack up as the Picnic drew to a close, I was reminded of the incredible work that goes into event such as these, and, in a wider sense, of the awesome work it takes to produce the very things we need to survive. And yet food has become too easy for us. It is something that surrounds us, but we continually take it for granted. The Brickworks Picnic is a magical event for so many reasons, but one stands out in my mind, in retrospect: it balances the connecting, life-giving force of food with the more rooted reality of its centrality to culture. And that culture means growing, producing, sustaining, supporting and educating. It’s not about the quick fix anymore; it’s about the process. It’s not about impressing with a final product; it’s about educating for a more rewarding and sustainable journey. Everyone who took part in the Picnic seemed to have an inherent understanding of these realities.

Nuit Blanche? Whatever. I think I may have found where the real art in Toronto was this weekend. I was so artistically inspired, I went home and… cooked.