A couple of interesting studies have popped up in the last few weeks, shedding some light on our eating habits during a time when many of us are trying to trim family finances.
One study published by The NDP Group, called EPIC (for Eating Patterns in Canada), revealed that 88 per cent of respondents to a survey intended to decrease the amount of time and money spent eating in restaurants, preferring to eat at home instead. Apparently there was significant growth in the purchasing of whole grain, trans-fat free and low fat items.
It sounds positive. But while this survey tells us that more Canadians are eating at home, it doesn't necessarily tell us that more Canadians are cooking at home.
According to a recent piece in the Globe and Mail, Wal-Mart Canada's sales were up nearly 10 per cent between late August and late October, largely in part to higher food sales at their supercentres, which feature grocery stores. The article also reported that Kraft Foods items like KD, Delissio pizza, Velveeta, Jell-O and Kool-Aid are selling well as of late, with the company's net revenues increasing by almost 20 per cent between July and late September.
Sales of canned and microwaveable Campbell's Soup are up, too. And, if you can believe it, factory workers are putting in overtime to keep up with demand for Spam.
Like the economic downturn itself, it's fairly depressing.
If you're eating prepared foods all the time, you're not getting much of anything fresh. You're also not really aware of what it is you're consuming because you haven't put it together yourself.
"Processed foods typically include refined carbohydrates, which many North Americans overconsume," University of Guelph nutrition professor Andrea Buchholz told me in a email last week.
"The issue with refined carbohydrates is they can cause large fluctuations in your blood sugar. When your blood sugar dips, you experience hunger and therefore people have a tendency to overeat when their diets are rich in refined carbohydrates. There are also other ingredients in processed foods which we might be interested in staying away from, including sodium, additives and preservatives."
How, then, can we eat at home and spend less money without resorting to cans of mushroom soup?
Fairly easily, it turns out. Here are some tips:
1. Try eating less meat. Mark Bittman, food writer for the New York Times, advocates "less meatarianism" in his new book, Food Matters, largely because it lightens our carbon footprint.
As he discovered, "A typical family-of-four steak dinner is the rough equivalent, energy-wise, of driving around in a sport-utility vehicle for three hours while leaving all the lights on at home."
Eating meat only after 6 p.m., Bittman says, has improved his health. It also makes for a cheaper bill at the supermarket.
Buchholz says legumes are a great alternative to meat because they're an inexpensive source of protein. If you're put off by soaking and cooking dried beans, buy them canned. Just be sure to rinse them to get rid of excess sodium. I made a great dinner of black bean, tomato and tortilla soup last week that took little time and had neither my husband nor me lamenting the fact that it was meatless. And we were good and full when the meal was over.
2. Befriend a butcher. Local chef Jody O'Malley, who teaches demonstration cooking classes at Entertaining Elements in St. Jacobs, says using the same butcher and getting to know them well is a great idea.
"They'll give you ideas on what to make and how to make things to extend your budget," she says. Buying a cut from "the next section over" on the animal, for example, can get you great quality meat at a lower price.
Marinating helps soften tougher, less pricey cuts, as does cutting meat against the grain (which tenderizes it). There's also braising and slow cooking. Bust out the crock pot. "Braising shoulder takes a lot longer, but you can enjoy the smell all day and you get to have a treat at the end of it," O'Malley says.
There's also the option of sharing a steak (or other piece of meat) between two or three people and loading up on vegetables and salad. This is more in line, nutritionally-speaking, with what your plate should look like, anyway.
3. Shop at farmer's markets. There are good deals to be had. You'll find both local and imported produce at this time of year. Local produce always tastes better but, indeed, you'll find the pickings are a bit slimmer in the depths of winter. Nevertheless, there are carrots, apples and pears and other local items to be found. And good deals on imports like lemons, grapes and oranges.
Not only this, but you're supporting local economy by giving your money to regional farmers and food purveyors.
"You get your best quality and your best flavour, too," O'Malley says, of eating local produce. "Don't be buying watermelons now. Wait until summer."
4. Make plans to can and freeze next summer. I did a little bit of this last fall and I am happily reaping the rewards now.
Everytime I open a jar of homemade tomato sauce, I am transported to a warm, August afternoon. I could happily eat it out of the jar with a spoon. I also oven-roasted and froze some of the gazillions of wee heirloom tomatoes my parents grew, which cost me next to nothing. We're eating them on homemade pizza this winter along with frozen roasted peppers.
"Invest the time in summer when we've got lots of food," says O'Malley. "This way you can enjoy things like tomatoes year round when they're at their peak."
5. Mix frozen vegetables with fresh. Buchholz says that while canned veg is higher in sodium, frozen produce is usually high in nutritional quality. You can buy frozen vegetables at the supermarket, of course. And, looking at planning ahead, you can get it cheap when it's abundant this summer and freeze some yourself.
6. Buy in bulk and make food in larger quantities. Look for deals and sales and remember that buying larger amounts of things can cost less, even if it seems to cost more in the short term. Cooking something that will stretch you for two meals helps, too.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Homegrown Popcorn
In recent days, I have made a return to the popcorn of my youth. No, not Jiffy Pop. (My mom would never buy that for us, though we begged for it -- now I can thank her for that). Instead, I've been breaking out a big, old pot, heating up a tablespoon or two of oil, adding a scoop of kernels and shaking the popcorn like mad over a hot burner.
Not only does it taste better -- fresher and crispier -- but it facilitates the use of real butter and salt, which I'm all for. I can use as little or as much as I want. And it tastes so... real.
At what point did we all agree that popcorn can only come from a microwaveable bag? I have been giving this some thought lately, as I continue to work toward eating more traceable foods. As with all pre-packaged eats, it’s become a matter of convenience, I suppose. Throw it in the nuker for two minutes and get a couple other things done while you wait.
I recently chatted with Livia Townsend, who, with her husband Blair, grows approximately 55 acres of popping corn at their farm in Wallsingham, Ontario, just north of Long Point near the shores of Lake Erie.
"Have you ever looked at the inside of a package of microwave popcorn before you've popped it?" she asked me. Hmm. Not that I could recall. Good, she said, because it can be "scary looking."
"You can't tell whether it's old or whether it looks acceptable because you can't see it," she said, adding that the kernels inside are likely in there, unseen, because they didn't pass the test to be put into a clear plastic bag to be sold dry.
Townsend didn't claim to be an expert on microwave popcorn bags, but I was prompted to do a little Googling after our chat and discovered some scary things on my own about the wonky ingredients in a bag of that stuff (even if it is trans-fat free) and the chemical-laden lining on inside of the bags.
The Townsends grow several varieties of popping corn on their farm. The business evolved slowly after they took the reins in 1988, a few years after Blair's father Robert, along with two other farmers and an engineer, first decided to tinker around with growing popcorn. Blair was growing tobacco at the time, and as the industry was declining, he and Livia wanted to get involved in an alternative crop. They made the transition gradually and now farm only the popcorn.
Traditionally, the yellow popcorn we eat comes in from the U.S. -- most of it from Iowa. The Townsends' popcorn -- they sell it under the brand name Uncle Bob's Popping Corn (named for Blair's father) -- is different. White Hull-less Popping Corn is one of their most popular varieties; it's not hull-free, but has a thinner hull that, after being popped has less tendency to get caught in the teeth. (This one is Livia's favourite).
They also sell popcorn kernels in a rainbow of colours -- Strawberry Red, Shamu Blue, Purple Passion. This brings on visions of gimmicky dye injections, but that’s actually quite far from the truth. The coloured kernels actually pop up white and, depending on the colour, vary in texture, size and taste. The colours are also completely natural -- they have to be, because Ontario Popping Corn Company (that’s the name of the Townsends' business) is both organic and Local Food Plus certified.
Livia says she regularly encounters people who are shocked to find out that popcorn is grown right here in Southern Ontario. The Townsends aren't the only ones growing it, but they aren't among hordes, either.
"A lot of people don't realize you can grow popping corn here," she says. "People a few miles away from us don't realize what we're growing. We are so inclined to buy a package from the store, in a bag. People are so disconnected from their food."
The Ontario Popping Corn Company does all of their own packaging of the popcorn and much of their own marketing. "The Internet has been great," Livia says, in terms of getting word of mouth out about their product. Bags of their corn can be found in smaller groceries (Foodland, for example) as well as in specialty shops (like Picard's in St. Jacob's). It can also be ordered online at www.ontariopoppingcorn.com.
And now, a very simple recipe (if you can even call it that), to inspire you to try real popcorn. I can't say it will take only two minutes to make this, but it will take less than ten. Yes, there's a bit of oil involved, but not much -- and there are no chemicals present. I don't recommend using your best pot; an old one or an inexpensive one that you can designate for popcorn purposes only is a good idea. I find the splattering oil creates a bit of a film.
This comes from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, a great bible of a cookbook for which a revised, 10th anniversary edition has recently been released. Bittman says this will serve four to six people but I suppose that depends on how much popcorn you eat!
Not only does it taste better -- fresher and crispier -- but it facilitates the use of real butter and salt, which I'm all for. I can use as little or as much as I want. And it tastes so... real.
At what point did we all agree that popcorn can only come from a microwaveable bag? I have been giving this some thought lately, as I continue to work toward eating more traceable foods. As with all pre-packaged eats, it’s become a matter of convenience, I suppose. Throw it in the nuker for two minutes and get a couple other things done while you wait.
I recently chatted with Livia Townsend, who, with her husband Blair, grows approximately 55 acres of popping corn at their farm in Wallsingham, Ontario, just north of Long Point near the shores of Lake Erie.
"Have you ever looked at the inside of a package of microwave popcorn before you've popped it?" she asked me. Hmm. Not that I could recall. Good, she said, because it can be "scary looking."
"You can't tell whether it's old or whether it looks acceptable because you can't see it," she said, adding that the kernels inside are likely in there, unseen, because they didn't pass the test to be put into a clear plastic bag to be sold dry.
Townsend didn't claim to be an expert on microwave popcorn bags, but I was prompted to do a little Googling after our chat and discovered some scary things on my own about the wonky ingredients in a bag of that stuff (even if it is trans-fat free) and the chemical-laden lining on inside of the bags.
The Townsends grow several varieties of popping corn on their farm. The business evolved slowly after they took the reins in 1988, a few years after Blair's father Robert, along with two other farmers and an engineer, first decided to tinker around with growing popcorn. Blair was growing tobacco at the time, and as the industry was declining, he and Livia wanted to get involved in an alternative crop. They made the transition gradually and now farm only the popcorn.
Traditionally, the yellow popcorn we eat comes in from the U.S. -- most of it from Iowa. The Townsends' popcorn -- they sell it under the brand name Uncle Bob's Popping Corn (named for Blair's father) -- is different. White Hull-less Popping Corn is one of their most popular varieties; it's not hull-free, but has a thinner hull that, after being popped has less tendency to get caught in the teeth. (This one is Livia's favourite).
They also sell popcorn kernels in a rainbow of colours -- Strawberry Red, Shamu Blue, Purple Passion. This brings on visions of gimmicky dye injections, but that’s actually quite far from the truth. The coloured kernels actually pop up white and, depending on the colour, vary in texture, size and taste. The colours are also completely natural -- they have to be, because Ontario Popping Corn Company (that’s the name of the Townsends' business) is both organic and Local Food Plus certified.
Livia says she regularly encounters people who are shocked to find out that popcorn is grown right here in Southern Ontario. The Townsends aren't the only ones growing it, but they aren't among hordes, either.
"A lot of people don't realize you can grow popping corn here," she says. "People a few miles away from us don't realize what we're growing. We are so inclined to buy a package from the store, in a bag. People are so disconnected from their food."
The Ontario Popping Corn Company does all of their own packaging of the popcorn and much of their own marketing. "The Internet has been great," Livia says, in terms of getting word of mouth out about their product. Bags of their corn can be found in smaller groceries (Foodland, for example) as well as in specialty shops (like Picard's in St. Jacob's). It can also be ordered online at www.ontariopoppingcorn.com.
And now, a very simple recipe (if you can even call it that), to inspire you to try real popcorn. I can't say it will take only two minutes to make this, but it will take less than ten. Yes, there's a bit of oil involved, but not much -- and there are no chemicals present. I don't recommend using your best pot; an old one or an inexpensive one that you can designate for popcorn purposes only is a good idea. I find the splattering oil creates a bit of a film.
This comes from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, a great bible of a cookbook for which a revised, 10th anniversary edition has recently been released. Bittman says this will serve four to six people but I suppose that depends on how much popcorn you eat!
Real Popcorn
2 tablespoons neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn
1/2 cup popping corn
4 tablespoons butter
Salt
1. Put the oil in a large, deep saucepan (6 quarts or so) with a lid. Turn the heat to medium, add three kernels of corn, and cover.
2. When the three kernels pop, remove the lid and add the remaining corn. Cover and shake the pot, holding the lid on. Cook, shaking the pot occasionally, until the popping sounds stops, after about five minutes. (Note: Just as with microwave popcorn, the threshold between unburnt and burnt is miniscule, so use your ears and your nose carefully!) Meanwhile, melt the butter.
3. Turn the popcorn into a large bowl; drizzle with the butter and sprinkle with salt while tossing the popcorn. Serve immediately if possible; popcorn is best hot.
Easy, right? If you're feeling more adventurous, you can add chopped fresh herbs, fresh ground pepper or curry or chili powder to taste. Bittman also advocates sprinkling a little superfine sugar on your popcorn with the salt for that perfect salty-sweet balance. (Try maple sugar, if you've got some.) Also, he says, try 1/4 cup of very finely grated Parmesan tossed with hot, buttered popcorn
Beats the taste of butter-flavoured oil any day, I say.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Meyer Lemons
It’s citrus season, you may have noticed. That would be especially glorious if we lived in sunny California – all those juicy oranges and grapefruits would be, literally, growing in our backyards.
Up here in these parts it means we get a few weeks of enhanced perusing in the fruit of our supermarkets. And during these long months of depravity from fresh, local produce, that can provide a little excitement as we take pleasure in the small things, imported though they may be – fleshy red grapefruits and sweet blood oranges, for starters. Last winter, I made a more exciting discovery, though, when I came across Meyer lemons – a rare find around here – at my local grocery store. I snatched up a bag, well aware that little gems like these tend to disappear from the shelves just as quickly as they pop up. Just spotted them again the other day, so act quickly.
Legend has it that Meyers were discovered in China and brought to the U.S. 100 years ago by American agricultural researcher Frank Meyer. According to The San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market Cookbook, a sturdy little volume I rely on as my produce bible, Meyer lemons are believed to be a cross between a lemon and a mandarin orange. They feel rounder, smoother and spongier than the traditional lemon, and they have a less acidic, more floral flavour.
Many a time I’ve come across a recipe calling for Meyer lemons and had to settle for the boring standards instead. So I was feeling a little giddy when I got them into my crisper and started thinking about the possibilities. Cookbooks and a bit of Googling provided some inspiration – too much, perhaps. Tempting as it was to make an over-the-top lemon cake or some wee, buttery lemon cookies, I couldn’t think of anyone I know who wouldn’t kill me if I presented them with baking during this, the holiday detox season (thus leaving me to consume it all on my own – also unwise).
Would it be a creamy risotto? A vinaigrette to dress some peppery arugula? A gremolata to sprinkle over grilled steak? Meyer lemon and vanilla bean marmalade?
I quickly concluded that whatever I concocted, it would have to make maximum use of the whole lemon – rind and juice. And so ultimately I decided on preserving them. Instant gratification, no, but lovely down the line – minced up and added to hummus; tossed into pasta with some Italian parsley, tuna and capers; added to some kind of heady Moroccan stew. Or the ultimate addition to a Bloody Caesar. Indeed, they’ll be the gift that keeps on giving.
Most recipes I found were much the same, with a few variations. One suggested blanching the lemons in boiling water for five minutes before cutting; another didn’t. I went with the latter – easier – from the San Francisco book.
A mere three ingredients were involved – my Meyers, some coarse sea salt and a little extra virgin olive oil. Should have bought more lemons, though, as I only had eight. So I was forced to halve the recipe.
I cut four well-washed lemons into eighths, tossed them in a bowl with ½ cup of salt and squished them into a jar. Then I juiced an equal number of lemons, poured the liquid into the jar so it covered the wedges completely, capped it and stuck it in the fridge. Simple. From there, it was only a matter of agitating the jar every day or two for a week to distribute the salt, and then topping the jar with a little olive oil to keep things preserved. These will keep up to six months (even longer, really) in the fridge. You can double or triple the above proportions if you’ve got more lemons. Makes a nice gift, so the more you can get your hands on, the better. And if you can't find Meyers, this will work with regular lemons, too.
If you're looking for something sweeter, here's a recipe from the latest issue of Bon Appetit magazine that makes good use of both the juice and rind -- little individual desserts for eight people that can be made a day ahead. Again, regular lemons can be substituted.
Up here in these parts it means we get a few weeks of enhanced perusing in the fruit of our supermarkets. And during these long months of depravity from fresh, local produce, that can provide a little excitement as we take pleasure in the small things, imported though they may be – fleshy red grapefruits and sweet blood oranges, for starters. Last winter, I made a more exciting discovery, though, when I came across Meyer lemons – a rare find around here – at my local grocery store. I snatched up a bag, well aware that little gems like these tend to disappear from the shelves just as quickly as they pop up. Just spotted them again the other day, so act quickly.
Legend has it that Meyers were discovered in China and brought to the U.S. 100 years ago by American agricultural researcher Frank Meyer. According to The San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market Cookbook, a sturdy little volume I rely on as my produce bible, Meyer lemons are believed to be a cross between a lemon and a mandarin orange. They feel rounder, smoother and spongier than the traditional lemon, and they have a less acidic, more floral flavour.
Many a time I’ve come across a recipe calling for Meyer lemons and had to settle for the boring standards instead. So I was feeling a little giddy when I got them into my crisper and started thinking about the possibilities. Cookbooks and a bit of Googling provided some inspiration – too much, perhaps. Tempting as it was to make an over-the-top lemon cake or some wee, buttery lemon cookies, I couldn’t think of anyone I know who wouldn’t kill me if I presented them with baking during this, the holiday detox season (thus leaving me to consume it all on my own – also unwise).
Would it be a creamy risotto? A vinaigrette to dress some peppery arugula? A gremolata to sprinkle over grilled steak? Meyer lemon and vanilla bean marmalade?
I quickly concluded that whatever I concocted, it would have to make maximum use of the whole lemon – rind and juice. And so ultimately I decided on preserving them. Instant gratification, no, but lovely down the line – minced up and added to hummus; tossed into pasta with some Italian parsley, tuna and capers; added to some kind of heady Moroccan stew. Or the ultimate addition to a Bloody Caesar. Indeed, they’ll be the gift that keeps on giving.
Most recipes I found were much the same, with a few variations. One suggested blanching the lemons in boiling water for five minutes before cutting; another didn’t. I went with the latter – easier – from the San Francisco book.
A mere three ingredients were involved – my Meyers, some coarse sea salt and a little extra virgin olive oil. Should have bought more lemons, though, as I only had eight. So I was forced to halve the recipe.
I cut four well-washed lemons into eighths, tossed them in a bowl with ½ cup of salt and squished them into a jar. Then I juiced an equal number of lemons, poured the liquid into the jar so it covered the wedges completely, capped it and stuck it in the fridge. Simple. From there, it was only a matter of agitating the jar every day or two for a week to distribute the salt, and then topping the jar with a little olive oil to keep things preserved. These will keep up to six months (even longer, really) in the fridge. You can double or triple the above proportions if you’ve got more lemons. Makes a nice gift, so the more you can get your hands on, the better. And if you can't find Meyers, this will work with regular lemons, too.
If you're looking for something sweeter, here's a recipe from the latest issue of Bon Appetit magazine that makes good use of both the juice and rind -- little individual desserts for eight people that can be made a day ahead. Again, regular lemons can be substituted.
Meyer Lemon Custard Cakes
3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp sugar, divided
1/4 cup all purpose flour
pinch of salt
1-1/3 cups whole milk
2 large eggs, separated
1/3 cup fresh Meyer lemon juice
2 tbsp finely grated Meyer lemon peel
1 eight ounce container chilled creme fraiche
Preheat oven to 350. Butter eight 3/4-cup ramekins or custard cups. Whisk 1/2 cup plus two tablespoons sugar, flour and pinch of salt in medium bowl to blend. Combine milk, egg yolks, lemon juice and lemon peel in large bowl; whisk until blended. Add flour mixture to yolk mixture and whisk custard until blended. Using electric mixer, beat egg whites in another large bowl until soft peaks form. Gradually add remaining 1/4 cup sugar to whites and beat until stiff but not dry. Fold 1/4 of whites into custard. Fold remaining whites into custard in two additions (custard will be slightly runny).
Divide custard equally among ramekins. Place ramekins in large roasting pan and pour enough hot water into pan to come halfway up sides of ramekins. Bake custard cakes until golden brown and set on top (cakes will be slightly soft in centre), about 27 minutes. Chill uncovered until cold (at least four hours), then cover and keep refrigerated.
Using electric mixer, beat creme fraiche in medium bowl until softly whipped. Run small knife around each custard cake to loosen. Invert each cake onto plate and place dollop of creme fraiche top or alongside cakes and serve.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Eating Raw
For someone who likes to cook, the idea of raw food is hard to embrace. I cannot imagine life without the smell of garlic sizzling in olive oil or freshly baked bread. I say hovering over the warmth of the oven on a cold winter night or lingering by the barbecue in the heat of summer are part of life's pleasures.
Indeed, though, there are those who wholeheartedly subscribe to and champion the idea of a raw food diet, eating squeaky-clean, meatless snacks and meals populated with the likes of nuts and seeds and sprouts.
Cynthia Wikkerink certainly believes in the power of raw food. When she was studying to become an herbalist a few years ago, she was a vegetarian, but was introduced to -- and intrigued by -- the idea of eating "living" foods . Fast forward to now and Wikkerink owns her own business, Divinely Raw (www.divinelyraw.ca), which teaches classes on raw food eating and provides weekly food boxes to a growing number of devotees.
Uncooked food, Wikkerink maintains, is healthier because it's easier for the body to digest. Cooking food, she says, destroys its enzymes. She sees cooking as a kind of processing, something that is taking fresh food away from its natural state.
That said, she's not out to see everyone change their diet 100 per cent.
"I'm not big on making it a religion," she says. "It can be very time consuming. I get excited when people start incorporating more greens in their diet. That's a real step forward."
The classes began in the Zehrs Community Kitchen about three years ago and progressed when Wikkerink began visiting clients in their homes to teach small groups of people. Now she's teaching them out of her home. Most popular is her basic, entry level class -- a "101" to raw eating which lasts about five hours. Participants make smoothies, learn the ins and outs of sprouting and learn to make nut and seed milks.
"I encourage people to bring an apron and come ready to work," she says. "I prefer that because it's more participatory. You take more out of the class. We make tons of food and are usually stuffed. I teach people things they can do at home with their own tools."
As for the food-to-go, Wikkerink started making what she calls her Nourish boxes for customers after people coming to her classes began asking her if she could cook for them.
The weekly box, which customers pick up at a drop-off point on Tuesday evenings, contains about seven items. Most people use the food for lunches or eating on the go, supplementing what they buy and prepare on their own.
A recent box contained, among other treats, "neatloaf" made with soaked nuts, mushrooms, herbs and spices, dates. There was also vegan sushi made with sunflower pate, sprouts and vegetables, and chocolate cheesecake with cashews, coconut oil, raw cacao, honey and agave.
"I'm really fussy about ingredients," Wikkerink says. "I do the best I can to source out organics and I love going to the farmers' market and have some local farmers I deal with."
Wikkerink has started providing grab-and-go items like falafel to Sante, a health food store in Elora, and will soon begin selling similar items at The Healthy Haven on Bruce Street in Kitchener.
If, like me, you’re not so sure about jumping full force into the world of 100 per cent raw, Wikkerink offers a baby step via the green smoothie, which she says is an excellent way to incorporate some extra fresh stuff into your diet. She recommends having one every day for breakfast.
So for those of us trying to turn over a new leaf (don't you love January?), here is a recipe to try. Spirulina and maca are available at the health food store. Wikkerink recommends using a good, powerful blender and suggests you trick your kids into consuming them by telling them it's a "Dinosaur Drink." Good luck!
Indeed, though, there are those who wholeheartedly subscribe to and champion the idea of a raw food diet, eating squeaky-clean, meatless snacks and meals populated with the likes of nuts and seeds and sprouts.
Cynthia Wikkerink certainly believes in the power of raw food. When she was studying to become an herbalist a few years ago, she was a vegetarian, but was introduced to -- and intrigued by -- the idea of eating "living" foods . Fast forward to now and Wikkerink owns her own business, Divinely Raw (www.divinelyraw.ca), which teaches classes on raw food eating and provides weekly food boxes to a growing number of devotees.
Uncooked food, Wikkerink maintains, is healthier because it's easier for the body to digest. Cooking food, she says, destroys its enzymes. She sees cooking as a kind of processing, something that is taking fresh food away from its natural state.
That said, she's not out to see everyone change their diet 100 per cent.
"I'm not big on making it a religion," she says. "It can be very time consuming. I get excited when people start incorporating more greens in their diet. That's a real step forward."
The classes began in the Zehrs Community Kitchen about three years ago and progressed when Wikkerink began visiting clients in their homes to teach small groups of people. Now she's teaching them out of her home. Most popular is her basic, entry level class -- a "101" to raw eating which lasts about five hours. Participants make smoothies, learn the ins and outs of sprouting and learn to make nut and seed milks.
"I encourage people to bring an apron and come ready to work," she says. "I prefer that because it's more participatory. You take more out of the class. We make tons of food and are usually stuffed. I teach people things they can do at home with their own tools."
As for the food-to-go, Wikkerink started making what she calls her Nourish boxes for customers after people coming to her classes began asking her if she could cook for them.
The weekly box, which customers pick up at a drop-off point on Tuesday evenings, contains about seven items. Most people use the food for lunches or eating on the go, supplementing what they buy and prepare on their own.
A recent box contained, among other treats, "neatloaf" made with soaked nuts, mushrooms, herbs and spices, dates. There was also vegan sushi made with sunflower pate, sprouts and vegetables, and chocolate cheesecake with cashews, coconut oil, raw cacao, honey and agave.
"I'm really fussy about ingredients," Wikkerink says. "I do the best I can to source out organics and I love going to the farmers' market and have some local farmers I deal with."
Wikkerink has started providing grab-and-go items like falafel to Sante, a health food store in Elora, and will soon begin selling similar items at The Healthy Haven on Bruce Street in Kitchener.
If, like me, you’re not so sure about jumping full force into the world of 100 per cent raw, Wikkerink offers a baby step via the green smoothie, which she says is an excellent way to incorporate some extra fresh stuff into your diet. She recommends having one every day for breakfast.
So for those of us trying to turn over a new leaf (don't you love January?), here is a recipe to try. Spirulina and maca are available at the health food store. Wikkerink recommends using a good, powerful blender and suggests you trick your kids into consuming them by telling them it's a "Dinosaur Drink." Good luck!
Pear, Kale and Ginger Smoothie
2 cups filtered water
1 or 2 large pears, cut in chunks, seeds removed
1 large handful of kale, stems removed
1 thumb-sized piece of ginger, cut into chunks
A sprig or two of mint
Optional:
1 tablespoon of maca and/or spirulina
a pinch of cayenne
Whirl all ingredients in a blender on high until smooth.
-30-
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