Dana’s Big Gardening Adventure: Belgian endive

I took this picture at the International Association of Culinary Professionals (IACP) Conference in New Orleans where the California Endive Growers were teaching food pros about this elegantly shaped, bitter lettuce. I was surprised to hear several people at the conference say that they grow their own Belgian endive. I always assumed it was a difficult veggie to grow and even now that I’ve heard more, the process seems complicated. But, folks who have done it seem to think that growing Belgian endive is well worth the effort.

If you’d like to give growing endive a try, you’ll need some instruction. Here’s an excerpt from Prairie Yard and Garden that describes it well:

“Belgium endive is a form of chicory that is intended for forcing in darkness, to produce a tight white, non-bitter head. Used in specialty salads or gently steamed as a vegetable, endive is a pricey vegetable to buy, but an easy one to grow.

First, be sure to obtain seed of witloof chicory. Sow the seeds in the spring in loose, fertile soil. After the seedlings are established, thin them to four to six inches apart and let the plants grow until fall. Keep them moist and fertilize once or twice during the growing season.

By fall, the plants will be large with strap-like leaves and thick white roots. Before the soil freezes, dig up the plants keeping those with roots at least one inch in diameter. Remove the small side roots and shorten the main root to 8 inches. Cut the foliage one inch above the crown. Store the roots in a cool place inside a box of peat moss until you are ready to force them.

For forcing, select a large pot - a black pot or a two gallon nursery pot works well. Place the roots vertically in the pot and fill with sand or potting soil to the point where the leaves emerge from the crown and water well. Next, take a second pot, seal the drainage holes on the bottom to exclude light, and place it over the plant crowns. Keep the pots where the temperature is between 55 and 65 degrees.

The pale compact chicons will be ready to harvest in three or four weeks. They can be either cut whole or a few leaves at a time. Often the harvested crowns will sprout again yielding a smaller chicon.”

Or, for the visual learners in the crowd, check out these fab pics of the process at Kitchengardeners.org.

Cruelty on the menu

Two weeks ago I attended a discussion that featured travel writer Tom Parker Bowles (yes, he’s an offspring of the famous Camilla Parker Bowles) who warned the audience to go to new places with open minds and not admonish local people in far flung places for their seemingly eccentric food choices. While Tom’s argument stood up to scrutiny when he was discussing eating bee pupa and sautéed snake, I had to take issue when he told us that he had eaten dog in China. By his own admission, Parker Bowles was aware that folk lore dictates that the more violent a dog’s death, the more esteemed the meat is by middle-aged men with impotency issues.

I personally must draw the line at supporting local foods that perpetuate ignorance that leads to avoidable cruelty. My huge pet peeve is shark fin soup. I live in Richmond Hill, a suburb of Toronto that has a very large, affluent Chinese population. As a result we also have a lot of highly esteemed Chinese restaurants. Regrettably, almost all of the authentically Chinese restaurants in my area also offer shark fin soup on their menus.

If you haven’t seen the movie Sharkwater you may not realize how the Chinese thirst for shark fin soup is harming our oceans. I urge you to learn about how shark finning is cruelly killing one of the earth’s longest surviving creatures and throwing the ocean’s balance out of kilter in the process.

I have a feeling that once you learn more about this senseless practice that you’ll join me in boycotting restaurants that serve shark fin soup and, if you have time, please send an email to the UN asking them to officially oppose this so-called industry.

You can read more about the anti-shark finning movement at these sites and blogs:

• Monterey Bay Aquarium
• Big Blue Log
• Stop Shark FInning
• CBC’s The Hour

Best meal ever

Last night, like most nights, I made my son dinner. At 11, he’s one of the most active people I know. He cycles to school and plays outdoors after school doing all the stuff that marks a suburban childhood: skateboarding, shooting hoops and chasing friends around playing tag.

I’d eaten my fill at the test kitchen during the day so I threw something quick together for Oliver: a three egg omelet with ham, cheddar and red onion, a green salad and some leftover boiled new potatoes that I seasoned with lots of sea salt and pepper and pan-fried. It took about 5 minutes to make this meal.

O came to the table and gobbled the entire meal down with few pauses for sips of water or conversation. After he finished his plate of food he professed this dinner one of the best meals I’d ever prepared. I laughed, since really, this was hardly cooking on a grand scale. But he insisted that he had never eaten anything as delicious. In fact, he requested that I make a duplicate omelet for breakfast today (I obliged, by the way).

His exuberance reminded me how long it has been since I was truly hungry from an active day outdoors. Usually when I’m very hungry it’s because it has just been a long time between meals; that kind of hunger, although urgent, is different from activity-based hunger. It tends to make me bitchy and picky. Activity based hunger is more open and accepting. It’s grateful for any effort at all.

My mom made (and still does make) the best mashed potatoes ever. They are fluffy and light, salted and buttered perfectly. They’re the perfect little starchy cloud to cradle dark, beefy, homemade gravy. Although I still love and crave them, they never tasted as good as when I came in from running around the neighbourhood to find them waiting for me.

Do you remember how great food tasted when you were a kid? What did you love to find on your family’s dinner table?

Super foods on the menu

For quite some time now, smoothie joints have been highlighting the wonderful nutrient benefits in super foods such as blue, acai, goji and now even yum berries. This model is so successful that now other food service outlets are following course.

I recently stayed at a Westin Hotel where super foods were called out at the top of menu as a means of giving travelers permission to order the great tasting foods they crave. Likewise, how many times in the last half year have you been urged to order the chocolate cake because chocolate is a health food? How can any movement that positions a craving (that many people consider a weakness) as a health food fail?

What worries me is that we’ll justify ourselves into serious health problems. Does knowing that a moderate intake of red wine can have cardio vascular health benefits allow you to justify a glass of cabernet you wouldn’t otherwise drink on Tuesday night? Have you succumbed to the allure of super foods to justify ordering a chocolate smoothie that could just as easily be called a shake? Please don’t tell me I’m alone in falling into these traps.

Feast your eyes on Ibérico pork chops

Seriously, take a moment and feast your eyes ‘cause you likely won’t get to eat them. This picture was taken by my husband of a dish he prepared earlier this month just after he received North America’s first regular shipment of Jamón Ibérico. Along with the jamón there were samples of fresh Ibérico pork in the package to be used for the launch party. Unfortunately, it’s unlikely we will be seeing the fresh version of this coveted pork on menus anytime soon.

Truthfully, if I hadn’t had a chance to taste fresh Ibérico pork, I wouldn’t really care that it will be scarce. Although much of the grocery store pork available to Canadians is flavourless and bred to be so lean that cooking a tender, juicy chop is almost impossible, I can get some pretty good pork chops from small artisan farmers who raise specialty breeds such as Berkshire. But the Ibérico pork chop puts even these noble pigs to shame. So juicy and tender, each bite is a little taste of pork heaven. And don’t get me started on the ribs, which are so rich and tender they needed no par cooking at all before grilling! We prepared them with salt, pepper and then a squirt of lemon at the end and they were Divine.

Why won’t we see Ibérico pork chops and ribs on menus or in the butcher’s case at specialty grocers? Our federal government has made it virtually impossible for businesses to bring fresh Ibérico pork into Canada by placing a 100% duty on this meat to protect our Canadian pork industry. Pity.

Is it wrong that I crave and lament the lack of a delicious food that has to be shipped from around the world? Is there ever a time when a crazy number of food miles are just worth the incomparable taste? Hard to say when the taste of Ibérico chops is still such a vivid memory.