Fortunately I only have to cook breakfast for one little rascal, and this morning saw me whip up some bountiful buckwheat crepes. I found a New Brunswick supplier of buckwheat flour which fits nicely into our hundred mile diet. The hundred mile diet has been a huge success so far, though not without its challenges.
Breakfasts have been easy....eggs, oatmeal, yogurt, oatmeal, eggs, yogurt, eggs, eggs or oatmeal. Every morning I've employed the eenie-meenie-minee-mo method to decide what's on my plate. Life is simple when you have few choices. This morning I made breakfast a little sexier with buckwheat crepes. They were cooked in butter, doused in maple syrup, and topped with some fresh strawberries. You won't find anything better at Cora's, other than variety and west coast apples that have been sliced by an artist.
Suppers, like breakfast, have been pretty straight forward. We've been alternating between salmon and scallops, occasionally going vegetarian with baked beans. I need to find another source of local fish before I go bankrupt. No one's giving scallops or salmon away.
Julian, your pan fried gaspereau is ready!
I hate you Dad.
Although it's a little early in the season for fresh vegetables, I have been able to find asparagus, Swiss chard, lettuce, beet greens, spinach and lawn clippings. No joke, I actually find myself drooling when I look at a lush, green lawn. I might just go graze on my neighbours lawn, though I suspect that it's full of unnatural ingredients (should lawns glow at night?). Apparently I can eat dandelion greens, making my lawn look like a buffet.
I actually had a dream last night about food, which I never do, except for the recurring dream I have with a cameo by Megan Fox cradling a tub of Dream Whip. I suspect that Dream Whip isn't really considered food, since auto mechanics use it to grease wheel bearings in a pinch, so I probably shouldn't have brought up this dream. In my other dream, Robena Weatherley was showing me how to harvest and eat cattails. I remember stepping into the ditch and getting water over the top of my rubber boots...not a good start. I don't remember if I actually ate the cattails or not...they didn't look too appetizing.
Lunch is the meal that's the greatest challenge. I can always make a salad for myself, or have a repeat performance of oatmeal, eggs, yogurt or beans (literally, a repeat performance). Julian, who now has a summer job, needs to pack a lunch to take with him. Traditionally, pre-hundred mile diet, he'd get a sandwich but let's take a look at that for a moment. I can't give him bread until I learn how to bake it using local ingredients (this may never happen). So the sandwich I make him will have no bread. I can't give him a PB&J sandwich because peanuts aren't local. Jam contains a lot of sugar that isn't produced here. Sugar cane is produced in 195 countries with Brazil and India leading the way. Sugar beets are produced heavily in the United States, with the sweet little village of Sebewaing, Michigan (population 1974) calling itself the sugar beet capital of the world.
Is it just me, or do you also feel like necking with a local maple tree?
Okay, so I'm the only sugar whore.
Anyway, to pack Julian a sandwich for lunch involves no bread, peanut butter, jam, tuna, mayo, sliced meat (soy-based mock meat), mustard, tomatoes (so far). Julian's lunch looks invisible. He has no microwave at work, so if I prepare him something more breakfast or supperlike, he'll have to eat it cold.
Yummy, cold fried eggs!
Yes, I could make him hard-boiled eggs but I think they're disgusting, so I refuse to partake in their creation. There used to be, perhaps still is, a jar of them at the local general store. I want to hurl every time I see them. Keep your failed lab experiments under the counter, says I.
Do you remember the book/movie Alive about a team of South American rugby players whose plane crashed in the Andes? They were lost for 72 days and ultimately ended up cannibalizing each other when their rations of chocolate bars became depleted. Pretty gross. Imagine if I had been on that plane and, instead of chocolate bars, they had only boiled eggs. I'd have been the one licking my lips and looking around for a plump, juicy teammate. And a maple tree.
Lunch has been very awkward. I suppose I could make him a salad without a meaningful salad dressing, with a cold baked potato on top, surrounded by strawberries. This is what Captain Bligh fed the boys on the Bounty.
The focus of the hundred mile diet is no longer about eating food grown locally. It's now about staving off mutiny from the crew. There have been no threats, only support, but everyone has their breaking point. I think the buckwheat crepes were a good idea, at least for breakfast. They've bought me some time....I'm o-tay for the moment, but I still don't know what to make for lunch.
Maybe I should just give him a gaspereau and a Bic lighter...let him cook his own lunch.
I'll ponder that while I go off for a sail.
Crew! Prepare the Bounty.
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