This post is dedicated to the wonderful and wise women in my life – mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters and friends – who have inspired me to nurture a creative life and ensure that their skills are passed on.
My Grandmother and my Neice
I grew up with a very creative and talented mother who grew every imaginable vegetable for our family of five, sewed our clothes when we were young, and made all kinds of our food from scratch, from loaves of bread to ice cream. As a child, I took these skills somewhat for granted, though I did often note while visiting friends that this type of lifestyle was somewhat exceptional. In recent years, I have lamented that I did not make more of an effort to learn these skills. While I spent a lot of time doing my own crafting on the floor while watching my mothers foot press down on the sewing machine’s pedal; hovering over (while, really below) her marble slab while she kneaded bread; and weeding upon request, I never really asked for lessons. I certainly picked up a lot through osmosis but I was never exactly an apprentice.
Everyone has a food weakness; mine is potatoes. Potatoes make me weak in the knees, especially when they are fried in oil, and all the better if smothered in cheese and gravy. I first tasted authentic poutine when I visited Montreal for the first time at age 16. The tiny hole-in-the-wall franchise I visited, called “Frites Alors!” served dozens of varieties, from pink peppercorn to smoked meat. If you’ve ever been to Montreal, you know that everything tastes better there, especially bagels and smoked meat, and definitely poutine. Real poutine is made from hand-cut fries deep fried in oil, fresh cheese curds and homemade beef or duck gravy. I’ve had both good and bad poutine since. I was very excited when a couple of Quebeqois guys opened La Belle Patate here in Esquimalt (reviews here & here), where they serve authentic “Smoke Meat” sandwiches, great poutine and spruce beer. My boyfriend is from Quebec and he says their hamburgers remind him of the ones he enjoyed as a kid. Fortunately (or not) La Belle Patate is located opposite the pool, so I am usually confronted by temptation right after I’ve happily swam a dozen or more lengths and don’t want to set myself back. Poutine is so delicious, but I find it usually isn’t worth the fat and calorie hangover and it takes a lot for me to part with my hard-earned money (A writer on a budget you say?!).