Cecilia Buy

I say “Yes, yes, yes”

“Good things come to those who wait.” Well, having done a fair bit of that over the years, I was quite chuffed when our editor offered a new assignment – to represent eatdrink at a media event hosted by The Stratford Chefs School.

The March issue of eatdrink will have more about the SCS.  This article chronicles my introduction to that establishment, and to some of the people I met there.

The first step was to check in at Bentley’s.   The casual pub atmosphere of this restaurant/bar belies the quality of the rooms at Bentley’s Inn.  My ‘loft’ room offered main floor sitting area (small), bed with Tempur-Pedic mattress (large), and a wall mounted plasma TV (medium). Stairs led to the bathroom and a smaller sleeping area with gas fireplace and another TV. The view from the two-storey windows was of Albert Street and Stratford’s old Victorian-style City Hall, flag flowing from the tower against the clear blue winter sky.

Just before six o’clock I met my fellow ‘media guests’ at the reception area, and under the guidance of Falan Hamilton of High View Communications (the School’s public relations firm), we walked over to Rundles.  My colleagues were Heather Rivers (reporter for the Sentinel-Review in Woodstock), Andrew Coppolino (Kitchener-Waterloo Record), Brian Shypula (Stratford Beacon Herald) and Jill Worthington (London Free Press).

Rundles is one of Stratford’s premier dining establishments, but more importantly for the purpose of our visit, is its connection to the Stratford Chefs School. Owner James (Jim) Morris, along with Eleanor Kane of The Old Prune Restaurant co-founded the school in 1983. The school itself is located on the same premises, and uses many of the restaurant’s facilities in the course of education our future culinary professionals.

Once inside Rundles, chilled only slightly during the brisk walk, we surrendered our coats and climbed the stairs to a small sitting room.  Richard Maloney, innkeeper and chef at the Rundles-Morris House (more about that later), welcomed us with glasses of Prosecco, and we joined those already assembled. As well as Mr. Morris and Ms. Kane, the company included Tony Hirons of The Merchant Vintner, James Chatto, renowned food writer and currently writer-in-residence at the SCS, and another of our eminent food writers, and best-selling cookbook author Elizabeth Baird.

A short while later, refreshed, entertained, informed and relaxed, it was back into coats and gloves and scarves.  We stepped out to walk the few blocks to The Old Prune Restaurant.

An integral part of the course curriculum at the SCS is the Visiting Chefs program (more details next month). Tonight we were looking forward to a dinner prepared by Chef Yvan Lebrun of Restaurant Initiale in Quebec City. Students of the school would be assisting Chef in the kitchen and working front of house. Roland Leclerc is Chef’s wife and business partner, and Maitre d’ at Initiale. She backed up the students in the dining room, and proved every bit as ebullient and professional as I had heard.

Once seated, and provided with water and a glass of wine, we enjoyed brief talks from Elizabeth Nowatschin (the evening’s Student Chef), Matthew Consiglio, (student and Maitre d’ for the event), Winemaker Derek Barnett of Lailey Vineyard, and Mme. Leclerc. Our meal then proceeded through five courses, each paired with a wine from Lailey. Included on the menu were Kadaiff of Pork with Foie Gras and Leeks, and Roast Lamb Loin with an Epigram (look it up yourself) of Mustard and Rutabaga. The dessert course included a Sabayon of Maple Syrup, and was served with another Lailey triumph, Vidal Icewine 2005.

These dinners are offered throughout the school year, and provide the dining public with a marvelous opportunity to experience the skill of great chefs that would otherwise be attainable only with greater distances to be traveled, and considerably greater outlay.

Perhaps the conversation wasn’t as sparkling, witty and urbane as I would like to recall, but the combination of food, wine, service, people and atmosphere made it seem so. I hope our hosts enjoyed it as much as we did, even though the evening was really part of a PR exercise.

Mid-dinner I stepped as unobtrusively as possible into the kitchen, and stood quietly in a corner for a few minutes, curious to experience the atmosphere. Consider: we have one of Canada’s leading chefs, a Frenchman by birth, producing a complicated menu for about thirty discriminating patrons and assisted by – students.  I was prepared for shouting, Gallic curses and sneers, cringing students, perhaps flying pots or even sharp cutlery.  None of it. Chef and his brigade pursued their craft in quiet conversation, smiling, occasionally laughing, moving so smoothly as to seem choreographed. I later asked Rolande Leclerc if this was her husband’s usual modus operandi, or if he was controlling himself for the occasion, or was perhaps restrained by the language barrier. But no, she laughingly reassured me. What I had witnessed was Chef Lebrun in his element, behaving as per usual.

One final cup of coffee, and a thoroughly enjoyable experience came to an end. Outside the night air was bracing, and with snow crunching beneath our boots, we wended inn-ward through ever-so-lightly falling snow.

(The ladies and gentlemen of the press reconvened a bit later for a night-cap, but sensibly retired at a reasonable hour.  Our ‘work’ was to continue next morning, with the summons of the school bell.)

Next day we met at Features, on Ontario Street. Eggs Benedict had been the intention but (perhaps it had something to do with last night’s dinner) I chose a lighter breakfast. Quick and friendly service, a great menu – I’ve found a new favourite place in Features.

Then off again towards Rundles. Our destination was not the restaurant itself, but a building next door. The Rundles-Morris House was designed by Canadian architects Brigitte Shim and Howard Sutcliffe, and exemplifies their trademark style. Lots of wood and windows, and an airy ambiance underscore relationships between the construction, its environment, and the people who live in it. When the owner is not in residence the house can be rented. For this morning the house was ours to enjoy, and in a few hours we would sit down to lunch in the dining room, with a floor-to-ceiling view towards Lake Victoria.

But we had to sing for our supper, so to speak.  Today we were the kitchen brigade to Chef Lebrun. With humour and much beaming encouragement – but very little English – he put us through our paces.  Potatoes were chopped, baby bok choy blanched, celery root sliced, and sauces stirred (on a Thermidor Professional range).  Admittedly, Chef did the serious work (including preparing the treasure – black truffle from Perigord), and we had translators in both Mme. Leclerc and Rosaire Roy.  Richard Maloney kept us supplied with refreshments and graters and rolling pins and whisks and a number of very sharp knives.

Part way through the morning we were joined by Jacob Richler, who came to know Yvan Lebrun in the course of working on his current project.  We can look forward in some months to the publication of his book on ten top Canadian chefs. I confess to being somewhat overcome. Jacob Richler! Mordecai’s son! Jacob Two-Two in the flesh!  He must be fed up with it. At any rate, Mr. Richer was game to take part in the preparations, and joined us for lunch, as did Eleanor Kane. Tony Hirons arrived to be sommelier to our group. Among the wines that he presented with lunch were a Pouilly Fume 2004, from Domaine de Berthiers, which was paired to great effect with the opening course, Fish Brandade and Shellfish Bisque.  To go with the dessert (various lovely chocolaty things) Mr. Hirons poured an intriguing and unusual Barolo.  The recipe for Barolo Chinato calls for an infusion of rhubarb root, cinchona bark, and a number of other aromatic herbs. Full-bodied, of course, it is slightly sweet, with a somewhat medicinal (but by no means unpleasant) finish. While interesting on its own, this Barolo Chinato proved its depth when savoured with the chocolate.

All good things come to an end, and with coffee cup drained, thank-yous said, hands shaken and cheeks kissed, it was back to London. My companion for the drive? Nat King Cole, with ‘The Frim-Fram Sauce’.

Since walking out of the theatre after viewing “An Inconvenient Truth”, with that 8 1/2” x 11” sheet of paper in hand suggesting ten things that I could do to stave off the doom, I have tried to be a better person. Really.  The light bulbs have been changed, the washing machine is running on cold water and I’ve complained to Loblaws about all that plastic packaging on their organic cookies. I’m even looking to sell the gas-guzzler for something more environmentally – friendly. But there’s only so much I can do, and this business of buying carbon offsets confuses me.

I found an answer to my angst last week, touring the countryside. This is the year I make a serious effort to eat locally. And if that sounds stoic and virtuous, then that’s me. But really I think it’s going to be fun. I’ve been farmer’s marketing since high school, when we used to bike down to the St. Lawrence Market on a Saturday morning, and give Mum a night off by turning our fresh-from-the-farm purchases into dinner.

The path of produce from farmer’s field to dining room table is often tortuous, but can be refreshingly direct. Consumers in our little corner of the world are blessed. Whether you are actively seeking ways to reduce you carbon footprint on the home front, to improve the quality of your dining out experiences, or are a purveyor to the public palate intent on providing locally sourced products of outstanding quality, you need look only a little further than your own doorstep.

And there are lots of people that are more than happy to show you the way, groups that are actively engaged in promoting area producers, and trying to not only smooth the path from our farms to our kitchens, but to increase traffic on that path. The Internet is a great start your search, or drop into your local tourism office. Many local tourist boards provide maps or at least listings of area markets and producers. The Stratford Tourism Alliance recently rolled out their guides for ‘Epicurean Treks’.

Even a cursory look around will make astoundingly clear a couple of points: the bounty of our countryside, and the number of skilled, caring and impassioned people who work around us, producing our food. Within a day’s drive of Toronto, London, Stratford, Niagara, Windsor – wherever you are – you’ll find (reusable) bags full of good things to eat, and meet some very interesting and nice people.

Last Wednesday morning I was in Luke Sheepers’ Breadworks in Stratford, watching him kneading, shaping and baking the daily breads.  At lunch a few hours later some of that bread was on my plate at Bijou, along with roasted Berkshire pork loin from Fred de Martines’ farm, and a puree of locally foraged wild leeks. All washed down with a very drinkable pilsner from craft microbrewer Joe Tuer’s Stratford Brewing Company. Hundred-mile diet? More like a few kilometers.

You’ll find small dairies and cheese producers all over southwestern Ontario. Some fine ones are in the middle of Amish and Mennonite communities. And one of these is Monforte Dairy, an artisanal cheese company in Millbank. It is owned and operated by Ruth Klahssen, an early alumna of the Stratford Chef School. Ruth left a career as a highly regarded chef to pursue cheese-making. Monforte specializes in sheep and goat milk products and their output includes both traditional and innovative cheeses.

Spend a bit of time talking with Ruth and you’ll learn not only about the cheese-making process, but also, perhaps, some facts about the basic foodstuffs in your fridge, and how they got there. I was more than slightly discomfited to discover what your average dairy cow is subjected to in her too brief life, in order to provide the milk my family currently consumes.

But onto happier pastures… With or without children, visiting a farm where livestock is raised the old-fashioned way is both relaxing and revivifying. For me it’s a return to childhood, recalling summer mornings collecting the eggs from the hen-house, hot afternoons weeding the vegetable garden that provided salads, beans, potatoes and more for the farm family and workers, and calling the cows in for milking. Farms like this still exist, just a drive away. And their fruit, their greens and vegetables, their pork and beef and eggs all find their way to your local markets and restaurants.

Visit Sunnivue Farm near Ailsa Craig, and you will find milk cows whose every comfort is of concern to owners Alex and Ellinor Nurnberg. Their award-winning Holsteins are living proof that contented cows really do give better milk. And while you’re there you can visit the farm store for fresh home-baking, seasonally available fruits and vegetables, eggs, maple syrup and more

At Perth Pork Products in Sebringville Fred de Martines has been raising hogs since 1979. When his son expressed a desire to raise some himself, loose on the pasture, it was the beginning of what is proving to be a highly successful venture into the world of heritage breeds.  The farm is now home to Tamworths, Berkshires, and out a ways from the main barns, near the bush lot, wild boars.

Compared to the hybrids, commonly reared in confinement, these breeds offer a different texture and more flavourful taste. The qualities stem partly from the breeds themselves, but also are due to such things as feed, soil quality, and other characteristics of their environment. Restaurateurs in the region can’t get enough of Fred’s pork: chefs love to work with it, and diners love to eat it.

If you’re a high-end diner-out you’ve probably come across menus that identify their greens by source. If they come from a farm called Soiled Reputation, that is. Soiled Reputation is Antony John and his wife Tina Vandenheuval. What started out as a bit of a gamble has become a huge success in the world of organic gardening (although it sidelined John’s artistic career). The 80-acre farm provisions restaurants, homes and retail customers from Stratford, London, Toronto and Niagara with custom salad mixes, greens, and over 50 varieties of vegetables.

These producers, farmers and gardeners amongst whom we live have not just recently jumped onto the bandwagon of ‘fresh, local, organic, seasonal and sustainable.’ They’ve been at it for years, perhaps taking over the family business, or coming to it from related backgrounds. Their livelihoods are their passion.

If you’re wondering why you should bother to get on this wagon yourself, here a just a few reasons:

v    it sets an good example

v    it supports our neighbours (yes, those producers are our neighbours)

v    it’s earth-friendly

v    it contributes to economic sustainability

v    it’s virtuous and enjoyable

v    it tastes better, much better.

So toss that Mexican tomato, abandon that apple from Chile. Go to market!

Go for a drive! Heck, go out for dinner.