Frigs Natural Meats -   3515 Main Street, West St. Paul, MB

This one’s a bit of a drive, but Frigs Natural Meats is a great butcher that sells a huge variety of naturally-raised meat and poultry that is antibiotic- and growth-hormone free. After watching a very alarming episode of Marketplace about superbugs on grocery store chicken, I knew we needed to make a change to the meat we eat. Some friends of our recommended Frigs (especially for their bacon!) and shortly thereafter I began buying all of our meat, poultry and eggs there. All fresh and frozen meat is 10% off on Wednesdays, so usually I go that day.  It is one extra stop in my grocery shopping, and requires a little extra planning, but we feel really good about supporting this business. And also, their Kubi-Dogs are amazing.

See also: Savour Winnipeg and Riverside Kitchen

The Crusty Bun - Unit H-1026 St. Mary’s Road, Winnipeg

My aunt introduced me to The Crusty Bun, and now whenever I am in St. Vital I try to swing by and grab some of their scrumptious bread! This little gem is a bakery cafe, and if I am there for breakfast or lunch,  I get the “Small German Breakfast”, which includes two amazingly soft yet crusty buns, cheese, ham, jam, and a coffee or tea. The Crusty Bun sells a wide variety of breads, buns, and other glutenny goodness (my favourites are the pumpkin seed bread and the salt pretzels) alongside tasty pastries, cookies, and cakes. There is often a lineup, but it’s worth the wait. They call it European-style, I call it delicious… check it out!

High Tea Bakery – 2103 Portage Avenue  Winnipeg

Though I have yet to complete part 2 of my quest for Winnipeg’s best Imperial cookie, I have a hunch that the High Tea Bakery will take the honours. This bakery is a little out of the way for me – it’s a ways down on Portage and not surrounded by a whole lot, but again, worth the drive. They make the most delicious, beautiful cookies and dainties, and custom cakes as well. The High Tea has made special Imperials for Queen Elizabeth’s visit to Winnipeg and in honour of the Royal Wedding. They’ve even been to the Golden Globes! They also sell a good selection of Murchie’s teas, coffee, and hot chocolate – I think it might be the only place in Winnipeg that does – correct me if I’m wrong.

Pineridge Hollow - Just outside Bird’s Hill Park

Pineridge Hollow describes itself as a “restaurant, boutique, furniture showroom and reception venue” but this doesn’t really do it justice. About a half-hour drive from my house in Glenelm, Pineridge Hollow is a wonderful place to escape for a few hours, summer or winter. There’s a restaurant that focuses on local food and a huge giftware and home decor shop open year-round. During the summer, there’s also a weekly farmer’s market and greenhouse. And randomly, there is a small section of farm animals: on a recent visit, we saw goats, sheep and a rabbit! Definitely one of my favourite places to zip to for a girls’ day out or just a nice destination for a country drive. I’m hoping someday soon I’ll be invited to a wedding at Pineridge – it is just the most beautiful setting. I only wish they had a small inn, too!

 Which local businesses do you love to shop at?

When I was growing up, my family’s church had potlucks a couple times a year. This is probably where my logic-defying love of jellied salads (the normal, desserty ones, not the ones that incorporate actual salad ingredients like lettuce and peas) was developed, but I digress. I’d sort of forgotten that the church put on “Fall Supper”, too. So when, during my first autumn in Manitoba, I started seeing signs for fall suppers around town, I was reminded of how much I loved these meals, and became very keen to go to one — or two, or three

The Fall Supper is a widespread and beloved prairie tradition. According to Travel Manitoba,

“Autumn has been a season of super suppers for more than a century in rural and small-town Manitoba. The harvest-time meals were originally called “fowl suppers” because the main course was typically duck or goose. … Local residents donate the food and labor for these seasonal fundraising events. Proceeds benefit community and social service organizations, veterans groups, churches, and other nonprofit causes.”

Another Travel Manitoba article describes how each supper has its own idiosyncracies:

“Each supper has its own style. At St. Pierre-Jolys, half-a-dozen local school band students open the dinner from a balcony overlooking the hall, trumpeting through an awkward but earnest rendition of O Canada. St. Francois Xavier sets up bake sale tables of dainties, cookies and pastries. At Oakville, dinner tickets are purchased through the driver’s side window from two fellows in an idling minivan parked beside the entrance; their cash box a gallon-size ice cream bucket. At La Salle, children carry platters of veggies and dip outside to keep folks waiting in line from getting peckish while they cool their heels for the next sitting.”

Doesn’t this sound wonderful? And I just love this blog post about typical fall suppers (albeit Saskatchewan ones) from the author’s childhood, and the pleasure of stumbling upon one as a hungry, tired adult:

“It was Christmas dinner without being worried if Uncle Al would drink too much or crazy old Aunt Margaret would call a curse down on the Catholics during grace. The gaiety of the kids tables now translated to adults free of their social norm and in an atmosphere where a guy could openly flirt with the woman next door because she just made such great scalloped potatoes and a lonely telephone operator could draw an appreciative smile from a gentleman farmer with her flaky pastry.”

Love it! Anyway, this is a post I’ve been wanting to write for a very long time, because for whatever reason, I didn’t manage to get to a Manitoba fall supper until this past weekend. My in-laws took the whole family to the Ile Des Chenes Fall Supper instead of having us over for our usual Sunday dinner.

My plate at my first Fall Supper - delish!

The supper was held at the brand-new IDC Community Centre and when we arrived at 5pm, the place was packed – I’d guess there were at least 500 people there. Once we had our tickets (blue for dinner, red for dessert) we got in line, mouths watering. We were handed plates and napkins by kids from Seine River Minor Baseball (the supper was in support of them) and piled them high with buns, coleslaw, Caesar salad, ultra-tasty pickles, and cubed cheese. Once we got to the service stations, we were offered turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, veggies, sweet and sour meatballs, gravy, and the meal’s proclaimed winner, homemade perogies, slathered in butter and onions. They were so good; imagine sour cream and onion chips, only in perogy form… awesome!

The funniest part of the evening was when my sister-in-law, who is also not from Manitoba, exclaimed with surprise, “This food is really good!” Everyone just looked at her like, “Duh! It’s a fall supper!” Styrofoam plates can be deceiving

After we’d all but licked our plates clean, we headed over to the dessert table, where we each selected a treat from an ever-changing spread of homemade cakes, pies, dainties (hah, I wanted to write “squares” just there, but when in Manitoba…), cookies, and cupcakes. We polished those off, chased them with Caisse-logo emblazoned cups of coffee, then cleared out to make room for awaiting hungry diners.

My first fall supper experience was a bit hurried – between knowing there were lots of folks waiting in line, and chasing our energetic  16-month around the room, it wasn’t exactly relaxing. I think next time we’d try to go a little earlier and maybe bring a booster seat along. But I loved the whole event – the food, the atmosphere, the feeling of all ages spending time together, and all the friendly faces.  I can’t wait to go again sometime.

Here’s a giant list of all the fall suppers held in Manitoba this year. There’s still time to check one (or more) out!

Did you go to any fall suppers this year? Have fond or funny memories of suppers past? Which town has the very best one? I’d love to hear all your fall supper stories!

However, in one life’s annoying clashes of values and action, I did want to eat locally-grown fruits and veggies this summer. I’m the daughter of a soil scientist who had a sticker on his guitar case that read, “If you don’t support agriculture, quit eating.” Increasingly, this idea has been weighing on my mind, especially so after reading Barbara Kingsolver’s  ”Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.” My good friend Courtney in Calgary bought a CSA farm share* last year, and that gave me the idea that we could do the same. When Dine Out Winnipeg posted a note that ROC and The Fern Orchard and Gardens was selling shares for the 2011 growing season, we did the math and decided it was a good fit. We sent in our deposit to the farmers, Eric and Jodi, in May and then we waited for the bounty to roll in.

We didn’t wait long. One afternoon in mid-June, Eric arrived with our first delivery: a large bag full of spinach and a smaller one with radishes, which we marvelled at, knowing they’d been in the ground not 24 hours ago.

A portion of our Sept. 22nd delivery - I forgot the take a picture beforehand, so my beets have already been roasted and packed up for the freezer.

Since then, we’ve been receiving weekly boxes (which are ever-increasing in size)  of wonderful, fresh, organically-grown veggies and berries, and it’s been an adventure. Getting things I’d never bought before – like Swiss chard and tomatillos – meant finding creative (and usually delicious) ways to use them. I developed an appreciation for every part of a plant -for instance, roasting beets, blanching and freezing the stems for throwing into soups or sauteing down the line, and using the leaves to make one of my all-time favourite Manitoba dishes: beetniks.

Since we only have one fridge, and we get more than our family of three can possibly eat in a week, I quickly learned that I needed to set aside Thursday nights to “deal with” our produce – cleaning, sorting, storing, freezing, etc., so that nothing was wasted by letting it go bad. I’m still figuring out a rhythm in this regard, but I have learned that scrubbing potaotes and beets and listening to podcasts is a surprisingly relaxing way to spend an evening!

When we signed up for our farm share, I was expecting to get delicious, organically-grown veggies, straight from the farmer, and just as expected, I felt great about that. What I wasn’t expecting was the sense of closeness to the land that I have developed. I follow a number of food blogs, but many of them are based in the US, where  a) there’s a much bigger variety of produce grown, and b) the stuff that also grows here is in season much earlier in the year. So the constant refrain of “eat local, eat in season” seemed cruel and taunting to someone living smack in the middle of the Canadian prairies. I really had no idea of what eating in season looked like in practice.  I’m no expert now, but I’ve found the progression and order of crops to be a graceful, fascinating thing.

Many of us are so far removed from our agricultural roots that we don’t even know where to begin. Growing up, my family always had a vegetable garden, but it wasn’t something that I continued into my adulthood – years of apartment rentals and a natural inclination to indoor activities will do that to you, I guess. I still bought some produce at the grocery store this summer — fruit mostly, and salad greens once the spinach and lettuce stopped coming in our farm share. But most of the veggies we ate either came from our farm share or the farmer’s market, and that was a great feeling. If you’re interested in seeing what we got in our farm share over the last couple months, I’ve been keeping track here, along with a few notes on what we ate fresh and what we froze. All in all, getting a local farm share was a great experience and I think we’ll probably do it again next year.

Have you ever bought a farm share? What was your experience like?

*CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and in this model, people buy shares in a farm and share both the profit, in the form of produce, and the risk (if crops aren’t great due to weather, you’ll only get what the farmers are able to harvest).

Bag Tacos

I first heard about bag tacos from a teacher friend of mine whose students are big on these sinfully delicious yet junky “salads”. Basically, you take a bag of Doritos, crush them up a bit, and add taco meat, veggies, salsa, sour cream, etc.. Shake it up, and voila, a self-contained, no-plates-required meal. I didn’t think they were a particularly Manitoban thing (my sister said she’s heard folks in California call them “walking tacos”) until I read a post by Kath at Food Musings, who talked about tacos in a bag and said a friend of hers got the idea from attending pow wows around the province. And then! I saw them on the menu at Sub Zero Ice Cream, so in my mind, they’re now associated.

Campfire Pie

When we’re at my husband’s aunt’s cottage, once the sun goes down and the fire is in full swing, it’s campfire pie time! A campfire pie is basically a toasted sandwich made in a special iron – but it’s the pie filling inside that makes it such a treat. Campfire pie is such a beloved part of the family that it was actually mentioned in a relative’s obituary.

Pickerel

I do believe the only fish I’ve ever caught in my life was a pickerel. I was probably 10 or so, and my granddad took me fishing during a visit to their house in Lac du Bonnet. My grandma cleaned it up, pan-fried it, and I ate it proudly. Ah, the tasty pickerel, also known as the walleye.  For our honeymoon, my husband and I spent a few days at the (now defunct?) Radisson Hecla Oasis Resort, and I must have had pickerel at every meal. Pickerel is one of the few readily available local fish here in our landlocked province, and you often see it featured as food fit for a 100-mile diet. When Little Gray Bird pointed to pickerel cheeks as a Manitoba delicacy, I knew I had to add it to the list. I recommend the pickerel fish and chips at Lobby on York. Mmm…

OV

Before I moved here, the standard nothing-fancy beer was what I now think of as Alberta Pilsner (usually referred to as “Pil”, but actually called “Old-Style Pilsner”). But when it comes to curling or lakeside lounging, the beer around here is OV (Old Vienna).  I’d never heard of it before, and to be honest, it really is nothing special. Cheap, but not suspiciously cheap. It has a reputation for the kind of beer that old men drink. In fact, I once saw it listed as the special for “Drink your dad’s beer” night at Boston Pizza. Now, Manitoba does have lots of excellent locally-made beers (Half Pints, Fort Garry), and they’re special in the same way that Big Rock is an Alberta classic and Granville Island (and Steamworks… salivate…) are musts in BC. But call me crazy — when I think of Manitoba’s signature, no-frills beer, I think of OV. (I suspect this is completely due to my in-laws!)

Again, I know these items are far from unique to Manitoba, but they remind me of our gorgeous summers. We just got an invitation to the lake — with any luck, I just may sample all these scrumptious things in one day!

What tastes like summer in Manitoba to you?

Mmm... A Shmoo log from Gunn's Bakery

Before I went on mat leave, my wonderful group of colleagues took me for a farewell lunch. When it came time for a celebratory dessert, I was heartily encouraged to try the feature dessert: Shmoo. At first, I thought the waiter was kidding around; I’d never heard of such a thing. Well, it’s real, it’s delicious, and you guessed it, it’s a Winnipeg thing!

What is Shmoo (or Schmoo), you ask? It’s a decadent cake/torte layered with whipped cream, nuts and caramel. I had my first taste at Chamberlyn’s, but my dining companions that fateful day speculated it was popularized by the legendary Baked Expectations.

A quick survey of Winnipeg bakeries reveals it’s a popular cake: Gunn’s, Goodies, Baked Expectations, and Pastry Castle all list it on their websites. Where does the whimsical-sounding name come from? This article from the Globe & Mail mentions that many believe it has Jewish roots, and this article from the Boston Globe (written by a former Winnipegger) says indeed, Shmoo torte is a staple dessert of Bar Mitzvahs.

Want to make your own Shmoo? Check out this recipe for Shmoo, from an Ontario food blogger who says, “I feel like a bad Canadian for never having heard of Shmoo Torte. I stumbled upon a recipe recently and discovered that this decadent cake is a Winnipeg classic and after I read the recipe, I thought I should bring a little Shmoo to Ontario, too!” Atta girl!

Where’s your favourite place to get Shmoo’ed?

So while I wouldn’t call myself a foodie, I would call myself a food-lover. (I know, lame, because as if there are any food-haters.)  I like thinking about food, in general. I like looking at recipes, even ones I know I’ll never get around to making.  Mostly I enjoy reading others’ thoughts on ingredients, gear, and restaurants…call it cooking vicariously, if you like. Because the availability of all these things varies so much geographically, it’s always a pleasant surprise when you come across a blog that refers to restaurants and stores you can actually visit, and ingredients you can easily find!

Lucky for us, Winnipeg has several good food bloggers/writers, and I’ve rounded up a list of some of my regular reads. Have I missed anyone?

• Dine Out Winnipeg: Restaurant reviews, tips, events, etc. Very extensive archives.
• Breakfast Connoisseurs: Two funny dudes on an eternal quest to find the city’s best breakfast…. their website is the only place you can find hours, payment details, etc., on a lot of small places. Extra props for the hilarious podcast!
• Savour Winnipeg: Monthly roundups of foodie events, gossip, and other local news.
• Winnipeg Eats: A great mix of food politics, recipes, tips on using local produce, etc.
• Zollipop: Zolli writes about local ingredients, local restaurants and her cooking adventures, generally accompanied by lovely photos.
• Cake-ology: Company blog for the Exchange’s Cake-ology Bakery.
• Food Musings: A mix of personal posts, recipes, reviews, and more. I fell for the cute heart pictures at the end of each post!

I’m looking forward to this summer for a bunch of food-related reasons. One, we’re hoping to do some container gardening of a few herbs and veggies this summer (we’re gardening newbs; baby steps!). Two, we picked up a composter at the city’s compost & rain barrel sale a few weekends back. So even though we have no use for compost right now, by this time next year we should have some of the nice, rich stuff to help grow more veggies, and we can stop throwing a big proportion of our kitchen scraps into the garbage. Three, I’m excited for trips to the Farmers’ Market (though I cringe at the long drive down to St. Norbert) and to u-pick some berries. Lastly, and this may be delusional, but I’m hoping that being off on mat leave will afford me time to do more cooking and experimenting in the kitchen.

Do you have food-related summer traditions or activities you’re excited for? Do share!

–via ChrisD.ca

Giant vat o' prunes

As the descendant of almost entirely British Isles stock, I’ve always felt a bit, well, culture-less. The Christmas and New Year’s traditions of French-Canadians, the Passover rituals of Judaism, and the immense pride of anyone with an ounce of Scottish ancestry have been a source of fascination and, to be honest, envy for me.

While I love my own family’s unique traditions (a jar of olives in my Christmas stocking = awesome!), none of them particularly connect me to a greater cultural group, and this has always been a bit regrettable for me.  That’s why I find it so enjoyable to participate in others’ traditions, and a couple weeks ago, I had just this opportunity!

Like all provinces, Manitoba has lots of ethnic and cultural groups, and the Icelandic are one of them.  Lucky for me, my husband’s aunt happens to be Icelandic, and around this time every year, she rounds up whoever’s interested to have a vinetarte-making marathon. I don’t think I’d ever heard about this layered prune dessert until I moved to Manitoba, and if you’ve never heard of it, you’re probably thinking, “Hmmm, that sounds… appetizing.” Trust me, it tastes better than it sounds! Part of the appeal of the dessert is in the making: with five (or seven, depending on who you ask) thin layers of dough, these little cakes are simple to make but require time and patience. Vinetarte is not overly sweet, so you can eat a lot of it in one sitting. If that’s not the sign of a great dessert, I don’t know what is.

Rolling the dough

My sister-in-law and I arrived at Chez Vinetarte at 10am and spent the day mixing and rolling out the dough (getting the dough to the perfect consistency is a true art, I learned) and cutting out round layer after round layer. Our recipe was adapted from a Riverton Hnausa Lutheran Church cookbook that’s about two decades old. I learned lots of tips and tricks along the way (Costco is the best place to buy pitted prunes, and you have to poke the layers with a fork before they go into the oven or else they’ll bubble up like crazy) and am already looking forward to next year’s marathon.

By 5pm, our team of five had made almost 40 cakes, which would be divided up between us and stored in our freezers for the coming year. One will go home to Alberta with me at Christmas, to my mum who loves a good vinetarte and remembers them fondly from her Winnipeg days.

Like most ethnic specialties, vinetarte is not without its controversies. Five layers or seven? Iced, or not? Sprinkles on top of the icing, or not? No matter which options you go for, the result is delicious, and partaking of it is one of my favourite ways to enjoy another culture. (And hey, Winnipeg Cat loves it, too.)

Are you a vinetarte fan? Any recommendations on where people can buy one pre-made?

The saucepan lid as cutting device

Layers galore!

One layer prunified

The finished product

According to my trusty “Manitoba Book of Everything” this is what kids here often say instead of “Trick or Treat!”. I’d never heard of it until I moved here, and sort of have the idea that it might be something people used to say (see  Aaron Schwartz remembers Halloween in Ashern, MB and Willy Cole remembers Halloween in East Selkirk, MB) but do they anymore? I’ll find out!

Growing up in Alberta we said “Trick or Treat!”, but also joked around with a little song that went “Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat” – how charming, now that I think of it.

Did you grow up saying “Halloween Apples”?  Or something else?

• La Cocina tortilla chips
• Morden’s chocolates
• Half Pints Stir Stick Stout
• Green Bean – Hot 103 “Coffee with a Purpose” Red River Roast
• Canoe brand Shoal Lake Wild Rice
• Greetalia Honey Dill Sauce (yes, you read that right!)
• DD. Leobard Winery Raspberry Wine
• Nutty Club Chicken Bones
• Old Dutch chips

To hold the bounty... this tote bag from Weirdos of Winnipeg

We bundled it all up in a Weirdos of Winnipeg canvas bag and pinned on some cool Confusion Corner and Louis Riel buttons.

We had to make sure all the items would survive the drive to the Coast sans refrigeration, so cheese (New Bothwell, perhaps?), pretty much anything Peak of the Market, and frozen perogies were out of the question. We would have liked to add some Pic a Pop and ManitoBars, in there, too, but we ran out of time to track them down

While a couple of these items immediately came to mind, we turned to the Manitoba Food Processors Association’s Manitoba Made food guide to get more ideas. We’re not locavores by any stretch, but it did feel good to collect such a lovely bounty of locally-made food!

Hopefully I’ll get out to the Coast to visit Laurel before too long, and I’m sure I’ll lug along some more Half Pints, as this is my favourite Manitoba product to share with out-of-provincers.

What’s your favourite local food item? What do you like to get visitors to try when they visit?