A Locally-Grown Canadian Feast in Ottawa

I’m standing in Jill’s kitchen in Ottawa staring at a mountain of fava bean pods.

“What do you think I’m supposed to do with them?” I ask no one in particular. Jill is actually in the dining room deciding which dishes will be used for the multi-course feast.

I was the one who thought fava beans would make a nice appetizer, but at the time I hadn’t really focused on the fact that I had to shuck three pounds of pods. The simple and elegant fava bean spread on crostini proves somewhat labor intensive. First, you must free the beans from the pods, and then par boil and shock the beans in ice water. The final step involves removing the outer skin of each individual bean before pureeing. I do hope the guests appreciate this …

A note about Canadian agriculture, since we are immersed in it now and I still have that quiz to prepare for. Farming is significant to the country’s heritage. Today, agribusiness is one of Canada’s top five industries. Wheat is a staple crop, but fruit orchards, poultry, livestock and viticulture are common throughout the provinces.

It is always a little worrisome to engage in a significant cooking project in someone else’s kitchen. Individual chefs develop their own routines. But, since we cooked together at La Varenne we manage to adopt a certain rhythm. Interestingly, Jill stores many items in her kitchen in the same location that I store them in mine. The difference is that Jill is noticeably tidier.

I work on the fava bean puree and Jill tackles the chopping, sautéing and pureeing needed to prepare chilled pea soup. I slice green beans and Jill roasts them along with beets, wrapped in aluminum foil. Jill mixes batter for a Blueberry White Chocolate Clafoutis, while I start rendering the fat from the duck breasts.

The searing of the Mariposa duck breasts proves time intensive. I borrow an apron and soon, duck fat is sizzling in the frying pan and smoke permeates the kitchen. I feel as if I have been slathered in tanning lotion. I complete the job on the duck breast and then move onto the reduction sauce. I start to improvise with the recipe a bit, and it requires straining, but we’re pleased with the results.

Jill does an expert job with the table setting, deploying a battalion of dishes, glasses cutlery and napkins. She even tucks petite colorful flowers from the garden into each napkin ring. While she finishes the table, I prepare sautéed apple slices with rosemary to accompany the foie gras.

Late in the afternoon, Jill mentions that perhaps the Escoffier menu originally considered might have been less complicated. That Escoffier was such a slacker.

It really doesn’t matter. Our results are impressive, and by 6:30 p.m. we are able to sit down for a few minutes and each partake of a glass of crème de peche with champagne, just like we did each evening at Chateau du Fey in Burgundy.

The guests arrive, many of whom attended the American Feast in Canada in March. “Medusa,” from our New York weekend last April is there, sporting a smart new hairstyle.

Due to the time spent at the stove, my feet are swollen and sweltering and I long to shed my sneakers and go barefoot. Two of the guests immediately relinquish their shoes upon entering the house, so I decide to join in what appears to be a local tradition. During dinner, I also learn that apparently, an inordinate number of people are struck by lightening in Ottawa. I wonder if this factoid will be on the quiz. Since the main dish is duck, I wax poetically about “The Big Duck of Long Island.” I’m not sure they actually believe such an oversized waterfowl exists …

The parade of courses, fresh and locally grown, begins garnished with multicolored edible flowers. The crisp fava bean crostini is a burst of pure chlorophyll with accents of garlic, thyme and lemon.

Jill pairs pan seared foie gras with apple and rosemary with a sweet sauterne. The recipe is from Restaurant Les Fougeres in Quebec. The foie gras is smooth and velvety and melts like rich gravy on the tongue.

The chilled pea soup with spinach and cream is a luminous sweet puree, the color of sea foam.

A salad of roasted beets and green beans with goat cheese and walnuts has deep, earthy flavors, contrasting with creamy cheese, delicate greens and pods that snap with the crispness of summertime.

The grilled Mariposa duck breast with fruit sauce reduction is smoky and tender. The aromatic sauce has burgundy hues, savory flavors and fruity highlights. Fresh raspberries and blueberries are scattered like jewels across the fanned slices of flavorful meat.

Jill’s Blueberry White Chocolate Clafoutis, is tall and golden, tender cake with tangy berries and chunks of white chocolate that evoke a sweet burst of sunshine.

Every dish is accompanies by an abundant selection of Canadian wines. There is no cognac, but plenty of gossip and lively conversation. The meal is a resounding success for the imaginative presentation, the taste and the companionship. Thanks, Jill!

Epilogue: I never did see a genuine Canadian Mountie during my visit, nor did I sample an authentic butter tart. My performance on the quiz of Canadian history challenged the boundaries of international diplomacy. While I correctly identified the proper height of Colonel By, I got tongue-tied during the test and confused about which prime minister was a famous orator, and which enjoyed indulging in a séance now and then. I couldn’t remember what year Parliament burned or what year the Peace Tower was built. This only means I’ll have to return for a refresher course. I hear there’s a local winter delicacy served in Ottawa after skating on the Rideau Canal called Beaver Tails, that is well worth sampling.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Ottawa Farmers Market

We are blessed with another luminous summer day, and Jill recommends that we get an early start to find the best available produce at the farmers market for our midsummer locally-grown Canadian Feast.

The Ottawa Farmers Market occurs each Sunday, May through October at Landsdowne, just near the site of the 1875 Provincial Exhibition. The centerpiece of the fairgrounds is a shimmering exhibition hall, in the style of the great crystal pavilions, known to residents as “The Cattle Castle.” A flying cow sits atop a weathervane, a testament to the area’s agricultural roots.

It is already sunny and hot, but numerous shoppers are traversing the rows of peaked tents and exploring the wares of local farmers. Jill suggests that we take an initial stroll through the entire market so we can get a sense of what’s available and so we don’t buy the first thing we see. I am clutching a scratch pad with notes on all the ingredients we will need. The menu has been designed to evoke a summer day – crisp and brilliantly-colorful with notes of sunshine, pure rain water, and earthy terrain.

Certain things remain on my “to-do list” for the visit. I have yet to spot a genuine Canadian Mountie and the search for an authentic butter tart continues. There are some pastries available in the market but no butter tarts. We cue up for bread, and Jill selects an enormous rustic loaf that we will use for crostini. Salt scatters as the baker slips the loaf into a white paper bag.

For a fleeting moment I wonder if Jill’s focus on vegetables is some kind of postscript to the menu of the Canadian Feast last March where there were very few home-grown vegetables to be had. Now, there is a bounty of seasonal produce to choose from.

We seek out bulging fava bean pods that we will use for a jade-green crostini spread.

We marvel at the palate of produce available. One vendor offers cauliflower in shades of intense purple and orange.

Crisp green beans will mingle with earthy scarlet beets and goat cheese for a roasted summer salad.

As we are about to depart, a new shipment of raspberries arrive, just picked from the field, glistening and still warm to the touch.

Laden down with summer fruits, vegetables, artisanal breads and even delicate edible flowers, we now have everything we need for preparing our locally grown Canadian feast and head for the kitchen.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Lunch in Quebec

The Ottawa River cuts a dramatic swath between the cities of Ottawa and Quebec. Jill and I cross the river and journey to the Quebec side and in short time we have left the city. It is a brilliantly sunny day. We are treated to rolling hills and greenery. These are the Gatineau Hills, part of an extensive national park area that is dotted with lakes, trails and summer cottages. Most people greet us first in French. The village of Chelsea is a quaint collection of eclectic shops and eateries.

Jill has chosen a picturesque lunch spot. Restaurant Les Fougeres is neatly trimmed in scrubbed white clapboard and the sign is framed by a cluster of wandering sunflowers. There is an expansive garden out back and a shop adjacent to the restaurant that offers cookware and specialty food. The interior of the restaurant evokes a country home in Provence. The walls are a sunny buttercup yellow, and there is rustic furniture, crisp white tablecloths, and colorful bouquets of wildflowers in small vases on each table.

The host greets us in French and whisks us to a nearby table. The menu is a charming minuet of fresh flavors and radiant colors. I order the appetizer Basil and Parmigiano Reggiano Mousse served with cherry tomatoes and toasted focaccia. The host describes it as “Summer on a Plate.” Indeed, the generous dollop of mousse tastes like a sun drenched herb garden and the tomatoes are lush, sweet and savory.

Jill selects Wild Mushroom and Brie Pie and I can’t resist the Caribou and Cranberry Tourtiere. Yes, a genuine Canadian Tourtiere, the traditional meat pie of the French Canadians! The caribou is rich, gamey and exotic with tart undertones of cranberry, cloaked in a golden flakey crust. The host pours us a lively dry rose wine from France.

Jill declines dessert, but I must try the creamy yellow Tarte au Citron. Every mouthful is bright, lemony and dazzling.

After lunch, we stroll in the garden, and enjoy the eye-catching array of summer flowers. In the afternoon, my immersion course in Canadian history continues with a visit to Kingsmere, the rambling country retreat of William Lyon MacKenzie King, the tenth Prime Minister of Canada who served for over 21 years. Intent on scoring well on my upcoming quiz on Canadian facts, I note that MacKenzie King was 5 foot 6, was a bachelor and his dog was named Pat.

In the evening, we attend a lovely dinner party with close friends of Jill. There is no cognac, but bubbly champagne flows freely as does the gossip.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

A Taste of Ottawa

My early morning flight from New York slides to a halt on the tarmac, on time, in the province of Ontario, Canada.

Jill, my friend from La Varenne, an accomplished food and wine aficionado and my collaborator on several shared several cooking projects (including the Tale of Two Puddings and the American Canadian Cooking Project) is there to meet me at the airport. Our agenda: food, entertaining, local history, Canadian cooking and more food.

I’ve never visited Ottawa and Jill has worked up a full list of suggestions. An e-mail informs me: “There will be no napping. I’ve got a full itinerary planned with a quiz on Ottawa history at the end!”

I know to take this direction seriously.

After several days of travel, and precious little sleep, I am in desperate need of caffeine, so our first stop is Second Cup, the authentic Canadian coffee house which competes with that other well-known place that begins with an “S.” I’m anxious to sample a genuine Canadian Butter Tart, since I had done some in-depth research on the famous pastry for the Canadian Feast. However, it appears that Butter Tarts are currently out of season at Second Cup. I settle for a Maple Latte, which certainly evokes the flavors of Canada.

Jill had already provided some advanced reading on Ottawa so that I might prepare, including a May article from the Toronto Globe and Mail titled “Portrait of A Capital,” by John Ibbitson. My favorite Ibbitson quote: “A truly great evening in Ottawa begins and ends in your friends' living room, where people have gathered for dinner, and where the evening winds down over gossip and cognac.” My expectations are understandably high.

We do a quick automobile tour of the capital city, and I’m charmed by the majestic Parliament Building resplendent with copper green peaked roofs and honey colored stone. The Peace Tower – reminiscent of that clock tower across the pond that goes by the name Ben – reaches high above the city. A Canadian Flag, with the distinctive red maple leaf against a white background, tops the tower.

Our first stop is the Byward Market, in search of ingredients for a planned feast several days from now comprised of local Canadian meats and produce. Established by Colonel John By in 1826, Byward Market is one of Canada’s most historic public markets. Remember the name Colonel By. He will come up frequently in this story.

Jill and I have debated the possibility of cooking an Escoffier inspired menu, but eventually decided the sauces and garnishes were perhaps a bit too ambitious. Instead, we’ve opted for an uncomplicated summer meal comprised of the freshest Canadia fare. The Byward Market is lined with specialty food shops, restaurants and boutiques. We visit Aubrey’s on York Street, a meat merchant located in Ottawa since 1908. The shop is framed by smart green awnings and the bright white walls are decorated with black and white photos and illuminate beautifully displayed local meats and poultry. There is even a letter from Dwight D. Eisenhower thanking Aubrey's for a delivery of meat during a visit to Canada. We stock up on plump Mariposa Duck breast and Foie Gras. The Mariposa Farm is renowned within Ontario for its tender, free range products. Brian, the proprietor of Aubrey’s chats with us and offers a primer on the care and feeding of ducks.

Here are a few facts about Ottawa, in case you too are studying for an important exam on the topic. The city is impeccably clean and well-manicured. Residents are gracious and flower blossoms are everywhere. The Rideau Canal Waterway cuts through the city. The Rideau Canal is 125 miles long and is a Canadian National Historic Site celebrating its 175th anniversary. In the winter, the canal freezes over and residents take long skating excursions. It was built between 1826 and 1831 by Colonel John By of the Royal Engineers. Are you starting to get the picture? Colonel By figured so prominently in the development of this region that Ottawa, was actually once known as "Bytown." One more fun fact: as we travel the city soaking up the history, we learn that Colonel By stood 5 feet 9 inches tall – presumably without his military hat.

The designation of Ottawa as the capital of Canada in 1857 is often debated. Some say Britain's Queen Victoria stuck a hat pin in a map halfway between Toronto and Montreal. Others say the city was chosen because it was better protected from invaders. Feeling well-prepped for my quiz, we take in the Renoir landscape exhibit at the National Gallery of Canada.

In the evening, we dine at Restaurant 18 in the Byward Market. Proving that Ottawa is indeed a small town at heart, Jill meets Lucy at the door who is a hostess at 18. They took a sommelier class together. I am optimistic about the wine selections.

Restaurant 18, promises “Canadian free-style cuisine” and the meal delivers. Jill selects briny lobster bisque with shrimp, sweetened with coconut milk and lamb flank with whipped potatoes and curry sauce. I enjoy honey ginger lacquered black cod with sweet carrot puree and sugar snap peas. Dessert is not a butter tart, but a creamy smooth peanut butter cheese cake with raspberry gelato.

The dinner is seasoned with a touch of gossip but at the conclusion, instead of cognac, we are treated to a fine port that compliments the nutty essence of the cheesecake.

Later in the evening as we walk past Parliament Hill around 11:00 p.m., we are treated to a sound and light show where colorful images of Canada shoot across the façade of the capital building like fireworks.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved