I’m paraphrasing again… this time from Pretty Woman (I think?). I can’t help it though. I started thinking last night that while I have been writing this blog for almost a year now, I haven’t really elaborated too much on what I’m doing, and why I do it.
I’ve intentionally kept the Everyman’s and my identities a secret (in case you hadn’t already noticed, the only pictures of me you will see on here are of my hands and I never use our real or full names). This is in part due to a request from the Everyman and partially because I don’t think that what I look like has anything to do with what I write. I didn’t sign up for this whole ridiculous Facebook generation, where everyone needs to have “friends” to make themselves feel validated. Why would I want to be “friends” with 200+ people who in reality are barely even acquaintances? The guy who delivers my groceries or my mail doesn’t need to read on my “wall” what I’m doing at any given moment of the day. The people who know me that I care about already know who I am and what I’m up to, they don’t need to read about it on the internest. Can we bring back a little mystique please, leave a little to the imagination perhaps??? </rant>
I’m rambling. And that whole Facebook diatribe actually isn’t what I wanted to talk about, I just got carried away, as I often do. I wanted to give a bit more background about me. Over the years a boatload of people have told me what a nice person I am, but that they find me hard to deal with because I don’t share details about myself and that it feels like they’re having a conversation with a brick wall. In the spirit of that I’m trying to reveal a bit more, while still keeping my privacy intact. I wanted to put myself out there (for anyone who’s reading) and talk about my dreams… what food means to me… how I hope to make it more of an integral part of my life, etc.
So, without adieu, let’s get to that already…
I come from a small (but large) family. Both of my parents have 9+ brothers/sisters, so in that sense I have a large one, but my immediate family unit is small, with only one brother and sister. My mother and stepfather worked in the restaurant business since the 80′s (he even longer, I think) although my mom is now retired from that (for now). Growing up I spent a lot of time in their kitchens; from being parked at the back banquette to eat tri-colored sausage fusilli (so 80′s!) while they worked, to being paid an allowance to make place setting rolls on the weekends, to spending my first summer of high school working in cottage country at their newest venture and eventually making specials and working short order. My culinary goals were vague back then; I didn’t know what (if anything) I wanted to do with food, I just knew I enjoyed eating it, and loved making it even more.
When I finished high school and moved out on my own, I started to become fascinated with truffles (chocolate ones). It wasn’t long before I had taken courses to figure out what I was doing (although in retrospect my efforts pre-training were just as good as what I produced in class – thank you Time Life/The Good Cook!). I spent the next few years talking up my small business to anyone who would listen, and thus Princess P’s Confectionary was born. I was about 19 at the time, so the name is equally immature. I ran the business for a few years, taking in decent orders during all of the major holidays, but it never took off into something I could do full time. In fairness I don’t think I devoted enough time to try and grow it bigger; I was just enjoying the pleasure of being paid to do something I loved.
During that time I also started taking some part time cooking courses. The lofty goal at the time was to one day apply for my Red Seal, but the more I saw my mom throwing herself into her newest startup, the more I started second guessing that path. I completed about half of the courses and then stopped; the new job I’d taken on at the time left no spare moment for things like dreams. And so, just like that, most of my culinary aspirations were put aside.
In 2007, the idea of some form of business was resurrected. I renamed my chocolate enterprise Truffle Wench, and began dreaming of the day that I could open my own little shop (ala JS Bonbons which sadly is now closed). I hadn’t gone much beyond truffles for family and friends at this point, but at least I had a vision of what I wanted one day. 2007 was also the turning point for me in terms of adopting a primarily organic diet. I hooked up with Bob (my greengrocer delivery man) and haven’t looked back since. Food began to move to the forefront again.
2008 was an even more seminal time in shaping my beliefs. With the advent of In Defence Of Food, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and Food Matters, it became even more important to me to know what was going in my body. I made the decision last spring to start growing the bulk of our fresh produce. I wanted everything to be organic, and no chemicals were allowed. I’d learned as much as I could about companion planting and hoped for the best. And for the most part that garden turned out to be a smashing success. It is the one accomplishment that I am most proud of.
As we begin 2009, I am already in the planning phases of an even greater garden for this year. In a few more days I’ll start 100′s of tiny seeds down the path to becoming dinner 6 months from now. That silly growlight configuration the Everyman bought me for Christmas several years ago suddenly becomes worth its weight in gold, because now I can extend my growing season the other way; backward. It allows me to space out all of the preparation that needs to happen before the mad dash to get everything into the dirt in April or (realistically for Canada) May.
Food is my passion. Plain and simple. I have hundreds of cookbooks clogging up my home that I never cook from (for the most part) yet I continually buy more. I generally don’t cook from a recipe; inspiration is all I’m after. I’ve dabbled in cheesemaking, confectionary, charcuterie, and bread-making over the years, and with exception of charcuterie I still practice these arts today. Now that I’ve found a great instructional blog (see below) I may yet start that up again too. When the snow melts and winter is gone I’ll reconsider putting aside some space on the roof for that smoker I always wanted. But I digress. When I’m in the kitchen, I’m at peace. Instead of being tired and stressed out when I get home at the end of the day and have to cook a meal, I relish it. It gives me a chance to relax and slow down, take everything in and make things with my hands just by feel. More than that it makes me incredibly happy to share the spoils with those around me. Nothing made me happier this summer than to hand off dozens of jars of my carefully-made preserves or extremely coddled rooftop vegetables. Cooking is nurturing in its most elemental form. I’m showing that I care for you by nourishing your body and soul. And nothing is truer than the fact that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach… the Everyman is living, breathing proof. I’m convinced he got hooked on me the first time I made him dinner (a pork tenderloin with a sundried tomato and prosciutto sauce). Pork on pork??? Pigs just happen to be his favorite protein, so how could he not fall head over heels in love with me?
Which leads me to my dream. As much as I enjoy producing food, I don’t think I will ever be called a chef. I know I’m mentally and physically strong enough to do it, and I know that I have the kind of personality to work well in that environment. I’m a get-shit-done kind of gal, after all. But that is not the goal anymore, because I’m not ready to give up my family. When I was a kid my mom worked so much that I only saw her when I was doing half days in kindergarden and would come home at lunch. Other than that she was sleeping when I left for school and didn’t get home until long after I went to bed. That’s not the life for me, I’m just too selfish to give that up any time soon. I crave enough stability in my personal and home life to know that I couldn’t spend that much time away from the people that I love, no matter what career ambitions I may have once had. Which is why I started thinking that maybe becoming a purveyor would be a better fit… I dream of having my own market garden; producing unique and almost-forgotten heirloom and heritage fruits and vegetables on a large scale. In essence, like the staff gardener on Jamie at Home, only not a dirt hippie. 
And maybe, one day, when I move out of the city I will get there. But until then, I’ll just be blogging here and sharing my 2 cents on any and all food related things that strike my fancy.
Incidentally, I stumbled across Grant van Gameren’s blog yesterday afternoon (of Black Hoof and other fame). It’s called Charcuterie Sundays and you really should check it out sometime, because he’s spreading the good word on meat, his thoughts, and sharing the knowledge of how to produce great charcuterie, one piece at a time. Ever since I mentioned the bearsaola to the Everyman, he hasn’t stopped drooling and quivering with anticipation.
Until next time…
Tags: Animal Vegetable Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver, Books, Charcuterie Sundays, Food Matters, Grant Van Gameren, In Defense Of Food, Jamie At Home, JS Bonbons, Mark Bittman, Michael Pollan, Princess P's Confectionary, rantings, Restaurants, The Black Hoof, Truffle Wench
