Poutine, mon amour

Hellooooo out there. My apologies for the long absence.

I've been busy working on my thesis film about genetically engineered foods and just returned from a long hard shoot in San Francisco where I was filming the vote on Proposition 37 (the one to label GMOs). The proposition was defeated by a slim margin: 47.2% (voted yes) to 52.8% (voted no). I could write a very long blogpost with my thoughts on it all, but for now (just for now), I'll spare you all as I digest what I've just experienced and reflect on how to thoughtfully put it all into a film worthy of contributing to the debate. 

In the meantime, there is poutine to talk about. 

It's been quite thrilling to see that over the years, the awesomeness of poutine has gradually overflowed beyond the borders of my birth province of Québec, into other Canadian provinces, and even charmed its way into our neighbouring states to the south. I love it when the tables are turned and Americans get to eat Canadian fast food! I was pleased to see when I first arrived in Maine that most people not only knew what it was, but also had an appetite for poutine. I even ordered one of those uber-trendy gourmet foie-gras poutine at my favourite local restaurant (thought I died and went to heaven). But what caught me off guard, and confirms that poutine is successfully wooing the world over is that people as far away as San Francisco knew what it was. In my missionary-like efforts to spread the deliciousness onto other continents, I even once made poutine entirely from scratch while visiting friends in Tunisia. There are few things that make my Québecois pride and patriotism truly shine through. But poutine is one of these.

Granted, the idea of greasy French fries smothered in brown gravy and cheese curds does not appeal to everyone. It is um, on the heavier side of the spectrum to say the least. But I grew up on this stuff. I fondly remember walking with my mom and baby sister to the Cantine d'Amour, when we lived in Matane, Québec, ordering their biggest poutine and eating it on the spot. Later, when my family moved to Nova Scotia and the wonder of poutine hadn't hit those shores yet, my mom would make it at home and we would have Québec nostalgia. 

Since we harvested our potatoes this week, I figured it was an opportune time to make some homemade (GMO-free!) poutine. Especially since my boyfriend's dad pointed out where I could find what may be the finest and freshest cheese curds in Maine. So all that was left was a good gravy. And luckily for me, Saveur magazine just put out this fabulous video showing how to make a perfect vegetarian gravy, featuring the lovely Todd Coleman. (I'm not vegetarian so I cheated and actually used some organic chicken broth I had kicking around instead of water, but otherwise, I stuck to this marvellously rich and flavourful recipe. Thank you Saveur!)



POUTINE (The 3 building blocks)
-A couple pounds of the best French fries possible 
(yes, this means homemade, trust me it's worth the time and effort...  but if dire, and I mean really dire, circumstances are preventing you from being able to make your own, then ok, you can use the frozen ones from the store... or if French fries aren't your thing, simply use baked potatoes instead)

-About 1 pound of the freshest squeakiest cheese curds 
(in a pinch, grated mozzarella will do, but it won't be the same)

-About 3 cups of good thick homemade gravy 
(the stuff from a can should only be used under dire conditions, otherwise, to be avoided at all cost... get experimental with it too: there are some great gravy recipes out there such as ginger miso gravy, onion guinness gravy...)

Even though most French fries recipes suggest using Russet potatoes, I made ours with a variety we grew called Purple Viking, fried them up in peanut oil, and they turned out great. The amounts of fries, gravy, and cheese are really up to personal taste. The cheese curds should be covered in piping hot gravy so they melt. That's about all the poutine wisdom I have to share...  Just combine the 3 ingredients together on a plate, and enjoy!

Salted Pumpkin Caramels

Here's something you won't see too often on this blog: a candy recipe. But I am completely smitten with these chewy caramels that taste like salty butter and pumpkin pie and all things cozy and autumnal. So here you go...

I am not much of a candy person. My sweet tooth is very directionally and enthusiastically aimed at the cookies / cakes / anything-made-with-dough category. But as a kid, I loved those little square, plastic-wrapped caramels... you know the ones people give out on Halloween? My mom wasn't big on sugary treats, in fact there was a time when I wasn't allowed to eat anything with refined sugar in it. Only honey, maple syrup and natural sweeteners were permitted. She relented one Halloween when my friend's parents accused her of child cruelty. (LOL, thanks friend's parents!) As a result, I was not as accustomed to sugar as some kids, and I remember sitting with a bag of Halloween treats, surrounded by those crinkly plastic caramel wraps, and one serious sugar hangover.

Since we recently harvested our pumpkins, the sight of this recipe from Food 52 got me whipping out the candy thermometer and getting down to caramel-making business in no time. And since today is Canadian Thanksgiving (my first time spending it in the United States), I wanted to share a pumpkinny recipe with you all.

These little guys were easy to make, except for the part when you're boiling the caramel and waiting for it to reach candy temperature. I got impatient and kept thinking I must be doing something wrong since it was taking for-EVER, but once temperature was finally reached and the caramel poured and cooled, it was an act of pure pleasure to slice through them and see that lo and behold, they had turned out perfectly. So be patient and don't worry if it's taking a while, even more than 30 minutes. 

I did make one key change to the original recipe which calls for part corn syrup, and part maple syrup, because you may remember how I feel about corn, so I opted to forego the corn syrup and use all maple syrup instead. I was initially worried it might skew the texture, but I did it anyway and the caramels turned out beautifully.

If there's one pumpkin dessert you make this fall, please make it be this one. I guarantee you won't regret it. And if you don't own a candy thermometer, it is worth going out and buying or borrowing one just to make this recipe. Seriously.

SALTED PUMPKIN CARAMEL
Adapted from Food 52  (and by the way, the genius who invented this recipe deserves a gold medal and good karma for ever and ever)

This recipe makes approximately 64 1-inch caramels

• 3/4 cup pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
• 1 1/2 cup heavy cream (35% or whipping cream)
• 3/4 cup pumpkin puree
• 1 1/2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (or 1/2 tsp. cinnamon, 1/4 tsp. each ginger and nutmeg, and 1/8 tsp. each allspice and cloves)
• 2 cups white sugar
• 1 cup maple syrup
• 1/4 cup water
• 4 tablespoons butter
• 1 tsp. lemon juice
• 1 tsp. fleur de sel or kosher salt
  
  
  Toast the pumpkin seeds in a skillet until they start popping. Line the bottom of a buttered 8-inch square glass pan with buttered parchment paper. Spread out the toasted pumpkin seeds on top of the parchment in the pan.
  
  
  In the saucepan, combine the cream, pumpkin puree, and the spices. Heat it until warm, but do not let it boil. Remove from heat.  
  
  
  In a medium heavy-bottomed pan, combine the sugar, maple syrup, and water. Stir until the sugar is melted. Allow it to boil until it reaches 244 degrees (the upper limit of "soft ball" point on a thermometer). Add the cream and pumpkin mixture, and stir gently until incorporated. Allow this mixture to boil and bring it to 240 degrees on the candy thermometer. This is the part that takes time, around 30 minutes, so be patient and watch it carefully, stirring often so it doesn't burn, particularly in the last stages when it gets very thick.
  
  
  Once it has reached 240, remove it from heat and stir in the butter and lemon juice swiftly, stirring well until both are fully incorporated and butter is melted. Now immediately pour the caramel into the pan, all in one go, on top of the pumpkin seeds. Let it cool about 30 minutes and if you wish you can sprinkle the salt on at this stage (or wait later and individually sprinkle salt on each square once they are cut). Wait at least 2 hours for caramel to fully set before slicing. Use a hot knife to slice them more easily, cutting them into 1-inch squares. You can wrap them individually in waxed paper. 
  
  
  Be careful, they are SO addictive!!
  
  
  
  

Rye Berry Salad

This summer I fell in love with a field of rye.

As you can see in the video, on golden summer evenings when the sun would hit it a certain way, the whole field seemed to glow and the tall stalks would come alive in the wind. Along with falling in love with this rye field, I also fell in love with a song. When I first heard the Christian Löffler track that you hear in the video, thanks to a friend who posted it on facebook, I had the same tingly feeling as when I was walking in that field of rye at sunset and I was thrilled when Ki Records very kindly allowed me to use it. 

We harvested the rye in late July, thanks to a combine that was on loan from a Boston company keen on getting farmers to try out their new imported models of compact smaller-scale combines.

Photo by Cindy Beams

Photo by Cindy Beams

Photo by Cindy Beams

I recently wrote an article about grains for the fall issue of Edible Toronto magazine, which you can read by clicking here. The gist of the article, if you don't have time to read it, covers  my hesitations about grains in light of warnings from some nutritionists about the darker sides of the cereal family (namely sky-rocketing gluten intolerance rates and the woes of phytic acid).

What I discovered while doing research for this article, which I found utterly fascinating, is the link between gluten-intolerance  / Celiac's disease and modern wheat varieties. Since the 1950's, wheats have been bred by the agricultural industry to maximize yield. But along the way, this has inadvertently affected the wheat's gluten proteins. Many studies are now pointing to modern wheat breeding methods as the cause of the 400% rise in Celiac's disease over the past 40 years. After reading about this, I became all the more interested in the rare, heirloom grain varieties that my boyfriend is growing out, such as the dashingly elegant Black Winter emmer, the sturdy Rouge de Bordeaux wheat, and the tall proud sorghums.

Heirloom grain varieties may in fact be much better for our health and digestion. They are often better adapted to local soils and climates. And growing them can be of great service for the biodiversity of our planet, since many older grain varieties are going extinct because they are no longer being grown. Over the past century alone, 75% of our agricultural crops have gone extinct. We often hear about endangered animals like pandas and tigers, whose plight is of great importance. But what about the disappearing agricultural species whose unique flavours will never be experienced again? 

The other thing I learned about is phytic acid, a substance in grains that prevents our bodies from properly absorbing their nutrients. Although I own a copy of Nourishing Traditions, the cult classic book by nutritionist Sally Fallon, I never gave it a proper read until I was writing this article. Fallon has documented how cultures around the world and throughout history have often soaked or fermented their grains before cooking them. This process activates phytase, an enzyme that breaks down phytic acid and helps us to better digest grains and assimilate their nutrients and vitamins. Fallon advocates soaking grains in water to which a small amount of yoghurt, lemon juice, or vinegar has been added.

This rye berry salad was my first try at cooking grains using this method. And the results were wonderful. Soaking the grain berries this way made them chewy, tender, and tasty. Since then, I have tried other recipes from the cookbook and made soaked flour muffins and pancakes (you soak freshly ground flour in water with whey or yoghurt for 24 hours) and so far I'm loving it. 

I hope you'll try this salad. The rye berries can be substituted for wheat, spelt or any grain berries of your choice. Please modify the rest of the ingredients according to your preferences and what is seasonally available in your area. Have fun and bon appétit!

RYE BERRY SALAD

Note: The general rule for the preparation of grains for optimal digestibility and nutrient absorption is to soak them in twice their volume of water, adding 2 tablespoons of an acidic medium per cup of grain. The acidic medium should ideally be yogurt, kefir, whey or buttermilk but apple cider vinegar and/or lemon juice can also be used.

Rye Berries

1 1/2 cups rye berries

3 tbsp plain yogurt (see Note, above)

1 tsp sea salt or kosher salt

Salad

Juice & zest of one lemon

1 tbsp unfiltered apple cider vinegar

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 tsp pure maple syrup

1 clove garlic, minced

Sea salt or kosher salt, to taste

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1 cup shredded cooked organic chicken

2 to 3 ears of sweet corn, steamed, kernels removed

1 small zucchini, thinly sliced

1 shallot or small red onion, finely diced

4 ripe figs or seasonal local fruit, chopped

3/4 cup toasted walnuts

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 small bunch basil, stemmed and chopped 

In a large bowl, add the rye berries, yogurt and water. Stir well to combine. Let soak for a minimum of 7 hours or up to 24 hours. Drain and rinse the rye berries. (You can cook them in the soaking liquid if you wish.) Bring the berries and about 5 cups of water to a boil. Remove any scum that rises to the surface. Stir in the salt, reduce the heat, and simmer until the rye berries are the desired tenderness, about 45 minutes. Drain the rye berries. Transfer the rye berries to a large bowl. Cool to room temperature. They are now chewy, flavourful little bundles of nutrients, all ready to use!

In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, vinegar and mustard. Slowly whisk in the oil. Whisk in the maple syrup and garlic. Add salt and pepper, to taste; set aside. In the large bowl with the rye berries, add the chicken, corn kernels, zucchini, shallot, figs, walnuts, cranberries, basil and lemon zest. Stir well to combine. Stir in the vinaigrette. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed.