Traced Elements

Category: food

Food and Feelings: Spring Rolls

In July of 2012, I moved to Pemberton. I followed my heart from Vancouver to the magical town of Pemberton where my then-boyfriend (now-husband) lived. I fell in love with the town. How could you not? The only problem that I had when I moved to town was that I had no friends. I did meet a few people through Shayne but I quickly developed three new friendships: Amy, Pauline, and May.

I love Chinese food. One of the first places that Shayne took me in Pemberton was to Centennial Café and I had such a great experience. I also fell in love with the Centennial experience and the ladies there got to know me and my “regular order.”

Whenever I would go in to get takeout I felt immediately welcomed with open arms. Because I like to eat my feelings, when I was feeling sad I would order Chinese food. I mostly did this because I knew that when I went to pick it up I would be greeted with smiles and compliments from my three new friends.

A lot of us had our favourite things to order and I was a huge fan of the deep fried spicy tofu, ginger beef on chow main and spring rolls. In my opinion, those spring rolls were to die for. Sometimes I would go there just for an order of spring rolls. They were so good that there was a 100% chance that I would burn my mouth when eating them because I didn’t have the patience to let them cool down upon arriving at my table.

After being a regular for a few years I graduated to being greeted with a hug. It’s like I was ordering spring rolls with a side of hugs and I loved it.

I’m bummed out that they closed down. Aren’t you? I get it. It was time to retire/move on. The owners worked really hard and deserve to retire and I’m excited for them.

I went for two last meals there (the last-last one was for three spring rolls). After moving here, I would always joke that I had five friends in town and Amy, May and Pauline were three of them. Those ladies, those memories, and those spring rolls will always be a part of my Pemberton story.

April 10, 2018
Why Everyone Should Have Backyard Chickens
With Easter here, I thought it fitting to talk about the true supplier of eggs. Bunnies get all the credit this time of year, but we all know we have chickens to thank for the ever so versatile egg. Although they may not be filled with chocolate there is not much that beats a fresh scramble with eggs that were laid that morning.

6 years ago we made the decision to invest in chickens. Specifically, laying hens as opposed to meat birds or roosters. We were renting a house up the Meadows where we were cultivating 1/4 acre plot of land as a veggie garden. On the property was an empty chicken coop that hadn’t been used since our landlord kept a few birds many years before. It was a little rundown and being used as storage but we emptied it out and fixed it up. We have since then moved to Reid Road and were fortunate enough to be able take our chickens with us.

To be honest I didn’t have the greatest memories of chickens. I remember getting chased around the yard by an angry hen and being pecked at by mean-looking rooster. Maybe we lucked out, maybe it’s the breed or maybe there is something to be said for raising your day old chicks but we have some of the friendliest birds. They LOVE to be petted, picked up and they are not afraid of people, dogs or cats. We let them roam free for most of the day and then when the sun starts to set, they retreat back into their coop and we lock them up for evening. I thought there would be a lot more chasing and wrangling involved but they seem to know where their home is and enjoy staying there (that or they know where their food is!)

Roaming freely around the yard.

It was a bit of a life adjustment and took a bit of getting use to caring for birds – cleaning the coop, collecting eggs every day, filling feed and ensuring clean water – but the benefits quickly outweighed the work. In six years of owning chickens, I think I’ve only purchased eggs from elsewhere once. We usually have eggs to spare and either sell them or share with friends and family.

Olive deciding wether or not to share. Petey the dog and Dr Gre the cat coming to check out what’s happening

Here is my list of benefits to keeping laying hens:
- They compost for you! I keep a scraps bowl in my fridge and every morning bring it to the birds. Carrot peels, the tomatoes I forgot about and are now stinking up the fruit bowl, the stale bread that’s about to mould, aside from a few items the chickens will gladly eat it all. (We do not feed our chickens any dairy or meat products. There is also a list of fruits and veggies to avoid feeding your chickens such as citrus, grapes and mangoes)
- They are incredibly entertaining. Have you ever watched a chicken run? It’s like peaking into the Jurassic age. And if you have children, chickens are a fantastic source of entertainment. Have you ever tried to catch a chicken that does not want to be caught? Well, kids will try for hours!
- Not only will you waste less food (feeding your birds scraps) but the grocery stores will also waste less food. Did you know that at the Pemberton Valley Supermarket you can pick a banana box of the grocery store’s unsellable fruits and veggies? For $2 you can pick up a chicken box filled with an assortment of items that are perhaps a little too ripe or bruised but the chickens aren’t picky, in fact they are thrilled to see that box coming their way.
- You know exactly where your food comes from. You know the living conditions of these birds and you know exactly how long the eggs have been sitting on your fridge shelf. This was a huge one for me. There are companies that advertise “free range” or “free run” by giving their birds an additional amount of space and a minimum amount of time spent outside but at the end of the day we just can’t really know how these birds spend their existence. (Of course, in Pemberton we are so fortunate to get access to eggs from trusted farmers, so I am speaking more to what is available at the grocery store.)
- There is something so rewarding in caring for a creature. There are many reasons we keep pets, it has been shown that cuddling a pet can reduce stress, loneliness and anxiety. Chickens are no exception! Plus if you’re not interested in having indoor pets, chickens are a great alternative!
- Chickens help keep the bug and slug population under control. If you do keep a home garden chickens can play an amazing role as a natural insecticide.
- EGGS! Oh yeah! When was the last time your dog left you a tasty treat? Chickens are fabulous, you feed them, they feed you!
An example of the contents of a chicken box from the Pemberton Valley Grocery Store

When is comes to the coop there are so many amazing and innovative plans available online but here are a few essential features that every chicken coop should include:
- Waterproof roof
- A secure structure with a raised floor. Ensuring there are no holes that a mouse could fit through
- Ventilation grills
- Window(s) for ventilation and natural light
- Nesting boxes
- A roost of sorts
- Lockable door
- Fenced run using either chicken wire or galvanized wire
- Heat lamp
- Waterer
- Food dispenser
- Electric fence (optional but recommended)
There are a few different options when choosing which laying hens to get and where to get them from. We are very lucky in Pemberton. Through the Animal Barn you can place an order for “ready to lay hens” meaning these chickens have been sexed and then the hens raised until a week or two before they are ready to lay.

Another option is to get “day old chicks”. There are a couple hatcheries in the Vancouver area that offer both sexed or unsexed day old chicks and you can expect your hens to start laying around 6 months.

The last option and my least favoured is to purchase day old chicks and have them sent through the mail. I won’t go into any detail on this one.

We opted for day old chicks and we drove down to the Little Red Hen Hatchery in Abbotsford and picked up ten of the cutest little “Easter Egger” chicks. Easter Eggers are a breed of hen also sometimes called Americanas and they lay pastel coloured eggs sometimes blue, green, white and pink.

Since then, we have purchased ready to lay hens through the Animal Barn and adopted a few stragglers around town that needed a home. We’ve grown our brood to 20 hens, each one adding its own personality to the dynamic. It was 6 years ago that we invested in laying hens and I can’t imagine my life without these feathery friends!
March 29, 2018
New puppy = new cake recipe!
I think I mentioned in my first post that I have a love of baking. I don’t get to bake very often though as that would mean eating it all afterwards, but for visits with friends or special occasions I can make an exception. Well, those two things just happened to collide this past weekend.

You see, this week my husband and I drove up to Fort St. John, and back, to collect our new puppy. And yes, before you ask, we do both believe in #adoptdontshop but the breed we love is not regularly found at a shelter and we did research our breeder and were satisfied that they were not a puppy farm. Besides, he is a cutie.

And so, for this occasion, it seemed appropriate to bake a cake to take round our friends house while introducing them all to the new puppy. Plus I wanted another excuse to try my Bundt tin!

I had saved several Bundt cake recipes on Pinterest but this One-Bowl Chocolate Buttermilk Bundt Cake seemed like just the right thing and looked very appetizing in the pictures. I hoped my version would look, and taste, as good.
Ingredients
Cake

3 cups all purpose flour

2 cups sugar

2/3 cup cocoa

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbsp baking soda

2 large eggs

1 1/4 cup low fat buttermilk (or standard will do)

1 cup vegetable oil

1 cup boiling hot water

1 tbsp vanilla
Glaze

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup cocoa

1 tbsp cornstarch (I used 2 tbsp to make the glaze a bit thicker)

1 cup boiling hot water

1 tsp vanilla extract

¼ cup butter
Directions
Cake

Preheat your oven to 350F.

Thoroughly grease a bundt pan and then sift cocoa powder over and set aside.

Add all cake ingredients to a large bowl and mix until well blended using a hand mixer.

Bake for an hour (check at 50 mins) or until the cake springs back when touched lightly with a finger.

Remove from oven and let cool completely before frosting.
Glaze

In a medium saucepan, whisk together the sugar, cocoa, cornstarch and hot water.

Cook, stirring often over a medium heat until thickened slightly.

Remove from the heat and add the vanilla and butter, and stir until the butter melts.

Set your cake over a rack with something to catch all the drips and then pour the frosting over the cake.

Let the frosting set a little before adding sprinkles.

Let set for at least an hour before eating and enjoying.

I was very happy with the results. It took minutes to put together and everyone really seemed to enjoy it, even going back for seconds (which is good as it meant less to take back home with me). Oh, and everyone loved the puppy too!
March 28, 2018
Patty B, Pemberton Wedding Duck

The sounds of spring are in the air. Birdsong fills the yard, and the egg incubator hums in my living room. Every spring we carefully place colourful, fertilized chicken and duck eggs in the racks and wait patiently, until we can hear, with ears pressed to warm shell, the muffled rustles and faint peeps of tiny birds inside.

The ducklings and chicks we hatch are egg layers – we generally won’t eat these birds, but sometimes a male duck will find its way into the oven. Our layers are almost like pets, and those with standout personalities or traits often get names.

Last year, about a month before our wedding in September, we decided to incubate some duck eggs out of the spring season to bolster our flock after a lot of losses to raccoon and bobcat. Only one duck ended up hatching out, and since the little guy was going to be alone in the brooder, I decided to take the tiny duckling under my wing. We started calling the duck Pat since we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl. Then we changed tactic and tweaked the name to Patty B to help sway the universe into giving us a lady egg layer instead of another randy male.

We aren’t going to have kids, and you may laugh, but being a duck mom was super intense. I have no idea how mothers of actual, tiny humans do it!

When she wasn’t with me, perched on my shoulder, Patty B was in a large pen outside the French doors of my home office. Every time I put Patty B back into the pen after a walk around the yard, her frantic cries would break my heart and inevitably I would be back out there for another visit. In retrospect those regular walks around the yard, with the slapslapslap of her tiny feet windmilling behind me and our chilly wades into the backyard slough so she could dip and dive through the muddy water probably saved me from a total “crash and burn” in the lead up to the wedding.

As the big day drew closer and our walks got longer I hatched an idea – what if Patty B was part of the wedding procession? Training began in earnest with longer walks around the yard and then, eventually, forays across the small bridge into the backfield where our ceremony would take place.

Anastasia Chomlack photo

The wedding day finally dawned…and it was windy and rainy. September 9, 2017, happened to be the first time it rained since Patty B was born…actually, I think it was the first day it rained all summer! Luckily, we had a break in the weather before the outdoor ceremony began and as my wedding party and I gathered just across the bridge, my dad opened the door to the pet carrier to release Patty B. She dashed out onto the muddy path with excited chirps and peeps and began slurping muddy water up her bill. Mud! Worms! AWESOME.

It was time to start down the aisle, and my flower girl and bridesmaids began their slow march down the field. It was time for me, my dad and Patty B to make our way down to the rest of my life. But Patty B was having none of it.

I gave one last “C’mon, Patty B!” before sighing and giving up. The show had to go on. We walked down the field and suddenly as we were coming up between the rows of guests I heard a small boy cry out, “Is that a DUCK!?”

Anastasia Chomlack photo

YES. Patty B made it down the aisle with me after all.

Most of the animals we raise have a pretty low-key life compared to the wedding adventures of Patty B. But, we tend to every animal at Bandit Farms with care, love, and respect whether we are raising them for their eggs or to eventually harvest for meat. I’m not a duck mom to everyone but being close to our food sources is a privilege I will never take for granted.

Also, in case you were wondering, Patty B turned out to be Pat…but don’t worry, we won’t eat him.

March 22, 2018
A Pemberton Food Story

Food was one of the reasons my partner and I decided to move to Pemberton in 2011 after only being here a handful of times. We had been growing food in our community garden in Whistler. We also made our weekly bike ride to the farm market on Sunday for a couple of years and I swear getting to know the people who grew our food made it taste better.

We didn’t realize it at the time but when we moved to Pemberton we were dinks (dual income no kids). Armed with an abundance of time and money we were eager to tear up our lawn in the Glen and get started on our first labour of love. A couple of loads of soil later and our veggie garden was born, complete with a PVC greenhouse and vertical herb planters. Within a year I left a cushy (albeit ill-suited) office job to work on a local organic farm. There my love of Pemberton and slow food grew to new levels. I knew intellectually farming would be hard work but nothing could have prepared my body physically. As hard as it was at times it was incredibly therapeutic to be working in the elements day after day. I got stronger physically and mentally as the months passed. I spent many days weeding and planting and harvesting in good conversation with new friends. I gained a deep appreciation for the dedication and perseverance it takes to be an organic farmer and hence a steward of the earth. I learned from my experience growing food that it’s not always perfect, straight and neat. It’s scrappy and messy and mucky and absolutely gorgeous all at once, just like life.

In 2014 our dinkdom concluded and our hearts grew with the birth of our daughter. The abundance of time ended as did my days on the farm, in the mountains or spending my days making food in the kitchen . They were replaced with early am nursing sessions, diaper changes, a whole lot of raw love and a good sprinkle of depression. There were tough times and bliss-full times but one of the things I looked forward to was our weekly CSA harvest box from Ice Cap Organics. I would wake up on pick up days as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. I knew how hard people had worked to get those boxes filled with a rainbow of nourishing veggies, eggs, chicken even flowers and it felt good to be sharing it at the table each day as a new family.

Here we are three years later and life is opening back up again. We have a new plot at the community garden to experiment, learn and teach with. Now those days making food in the kitchen are shared with our daughter who knows where her food comes from and loves to help cook it. I have the pleasure of cooking food at a local organic eatery called Stay Wild. Just like working on the farm my life is uplifted every time I’m there. Relationships with the women I work with and the people we serve are just as enriching and nourishing as the food. As I write this and think about food and Pemberton I am reminded of Lisa Richardson’s article where she spoke of, “the opportunity food offers us, to grow – not just out there in the soil, but as humans”, and I am thoroughly grateful we decided to call this fertile place home.

March 18, 2018
Dreams of Chicken Soup

I just got over a wicked flu. Flat out for pretty much three weeks. One night as I was trying to get some sleep, in between coughing up a lung and blowing my nose, I could not get Chicken Soup out of my mind. I was visualizing me putting the whole chicken in a large pot of water, simmering it all day. I think I could even smell it! I could not stop thinking about it.

The next morning I dragged my sick, sorry butt out of bed and tromped straight across the yard to the barn where my freezer lives. I pulled out one of Nicole Ronayne’s amazing chickens and threw it in a pot with the last of my onions from my garden, carrots, celery and a boat load of garlic! Even just the smell of it simmering made me feel better. It was loaded with all the goodness that my sick body needed and I could not get enough of it. Breakfast, lunch, snacks and dinner until it was gone. It’s just so funny how our body knows just what it needs. Soups and stews along with gallons of hot teas. Warming our bodies from the inside out. Fighting those nasty bugs.

Our Mom’s and Grandma’s knew what they were doing. Food can heal whether it’s our bodies or our soul. Food does much more than just feed us. It can comfort and nurture as well. Food and wellness go hand in hand as well as food and sickness.

March 17, 2018
Nonna’s Kitchen Table: Mangia! I Love-a You!

The table, for me is the trunk of the family tree.

In her post “The Imperfect Table”, Lisa Richardson challenged us to “reclaim the table.”

I was intrigued by that statement. It was an opportunity to investigate the perception I have of my own scruffy dinner table situation.

First, I thought of the meaningful and diverse experiences I’ve had while seated around a table with others. The common thread woven through so many very different experiences was the uplifted and complete feeling from simply showing up, sitting together and sharing a meal.

The kitchen table – an ordinary yet omnipresent piece of furniture, in an infinite variety of shapes, sizes across cultures and this planet – for gathering and eating the food that has been graciously provided by mother earth herself.

Now that I have a family of my own, I look back with deep appreciation for the commitment my family had for gathering together every evening to share space, food and conversation.

When I visualize myself as a kid with my family, we are usually sitting around a table. My family roots are European – Italian and Eastern European. My siblings, cousins and I were all born in Canada, but we’ve always been enveloped into the dining culture of Italy.

One table shines above all others for its weighty contribution in shaping my sense of what it means to gather in the spirit of food, family and togetherness – Nonna’s kitchen table.

“Nonna” is the Italian word for Grandmother.

My Nonna’s table represents all that is good and pure about sharing space with the people in your life who spark joy and happiness.

Nonna’s table, and kitchen, remain a timeless constant in my life of change.

Physically, it is a vintage enthusiast’s wonderland.

For my psyche, it is a meditative place of calm and serenity.

The décor is firmly lodged in the disco era and has been since I was a kid… perfectly preserved and immaculately cared for. Four swivelling vinyl bucket chairs sit around the glazed marble-look tabletop with lace cloth, atop the vibrant 1970’s linoleum. Mandatory gold framed painting of fruit and wine looks down from the wall.

This table holds the imprint of four generations of Di Valentino’s gathering, breaking bread and eating pasta, laughing, crying, supporting, loving and holding space for each other. This table has facilitated a rise above language barriers – the offer and acceptance of food and “caffè” was the only phrase required to communicate the boundless love between grandchild and Nonna.

I bring this priceless wisdom, gleaned from forty years of eating at my Nonna’s kitchen table, into my life and my child-raising. Whatever may have happened during the day is put on the back burner. What is brought to the table is food, love and eye contact.

Sometimes that love has peeled and chopped, sautéed and baked for hours. Other times that love has ripped into a box of bunny shaped pasta and tossed it into a pot.

Either way, the expression of love at the kitchen table is tangible and I feel deeply that this is one of the greatest gifts that I can offer.

March 12, 2018
Southern Style
For those who do not know me, my name is Raven. I own a little bakery in one of the greatest mountain towns ever, Pemberton in British Columbia. I have a deep love for gluten, wheat, and all that it brings to my life. Today initially I wanted to write on a traditional favourite from where I grew up in the Southern Appalachian mountains, cast iron skillet cornbread. But as I sifted through this wheat-lover’s cupboards I found I had all the ingredients except my beloved wheat flour. What was I to do? With complete reluctance to change my topic, I let my topic change me. Because for some reason there was, in the deep lost corners of my cabinet, a small bag of Gluten Free Flour.

One of the very real and important things I want to say about my love for cornbread is that it comes to me with a remembrance of home, of the Appalachian mountain culture and all that I hope to share with you over time.

It is important to me that food represent something more than nutrients. It is, as Elizabeth David said, and this is a very loose quote to be sure…

“every bite we eat is not just food, it’s our culture, our history, our memories of ourselves, of our families, of times when we were particularly happy.”

So today, I created for myself a new memory. I hope you too, as you cook for yourself, your family and friends, find the time to honor and create memories of food filled with life and memories.

So I now give to you my recipe for Gluten Free Skillet Corn Bread.
1. The most important step is get a cornbread skillet. Like this one that my mom gave to me when I first settled down. It’s of great value but not of the monetary kind, and is only as good as the time you put into it, the “seasoning.”
2. Gather all your ingredients, as organic as you can afford and as local as it can be.
3. Next, turn on your oven to 425 degrees F. Then put your cast iron skillet onto the your stove top on med low heat.
4. Add 1/4 cup of a high heat tolerant oil. I prefer grapeseed, but please just no olive oil. While your oil is warming —
5. Grab a med mixing bowl, whisk, spatula, and a measuring cup.
6. Then, add into your bowl, 1 cup of buttermilk, 3 large eggs, 3 tablespoons of organic sugar, 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, 1 tablespoon of baking powder, 2 teaspoons of baking soda and whisk it up.
7. Note: after many years of cooking I do not mix my dry ingredients all together. If you have that compulsion, it is ok.
8. Now add 2 cups of stoneground yellow organic corn meal, followed my 1 1/2 cups of my favourite wheat flour replacement Cup4Cup. I do believe in this product and it is an amazing.
9. Whisk it all together to make a batter…now add 3/4’s of that what-should-now-be-very-warm oil from your skillet and mix in.
10. Take your spatula and pour the batter into your hot skillet. The idea is that we are doing two things — frying it a tiny bit, as we love to do in ol’ Dixie, but we are also keeping your cornbread from sticking.
11. For 4-5 mins let it cook on the stovetop, then put it into the oven until its done. How long’s that you ask? At least 30 minutes, but it depends on your oven. Just until you stick a knife into it and it comes clean.
12. Your cornbread finally is done when you flip it out of the pan in awe and admiration that it actually did not stick to the pan.
13. How do you eat it? With butter. Lots of butter! Who am I kidding?! Gluten free, maybe, but without butter what do we have?
r-xx
March 11, 2018
Food and Feelings: Jerk

My name is Blair Kaplan Venables and some people may say that I have an insatiable hunger for life. I would say that I have an insatiable hunger for food.

I love to eat.

I eat when I’m happy. I eat when I’m sad. I eat when I’m stressed out. I eat when I’m nervous. I eat to celebrate. I eat to mourn. I eat three meals a day plus a few snacks.

My feelings directly impact what I eat and crave (and normally the craving is cheese-centric).

I’m also someone who isn’t “in love” with cooking or baking. Every so often I’ll get into cooking but I like things that are easy to make, fast to make and yummy.

I know what you are thinking and YES, we own a slow cooker but I don’t even use that. I have a few recipes that I’ve mastered and they are on a constant rotation.

Over the past few years, I made a few lifestyle changes to help positively impact my life. So, I’ve looked for ways to make healthy food taste better. Chicken, in my opinion, is one of those foods that needs a little extra help.

One of my most favourite discoveries is The Metropolitan Chef’s Jerk Rub, which is made in Port Alberni, B.C and I tell everyone about it. I’ve even got my mother hooked on it. It’s super easy to use and makes chicken (especially free-range chicken) taste scrumptious.

You see, my love for jerk chicken stemmed from a trip with my friends to Negril, Jamaica. It wasn’t until this trip that I truly fell in love with jerk chicken. However, I’m slightly domestically challenged and I could never make it taste as good…until I discovered this magical rub.

Most recently, I’ve personally hand-delivered two packages of it to my mom in Winnipeg. This, my friends, is a jerk rub that’s gone national.

So, want in on this game-changing jerk rub? You can buy it at Mile One Eating House.

March 9, 2018
Eggs and the place we call home
1. The best eggs I’ve ever eaten were done over easy, and served on crusty toasted hazelnut and currant bread that was smothered with melted butter and peanut butter. A strict vegetarian, I hadn’t eaten eggs for years, but started craving them while pregnant with my first son. This decadent breakfast, repeated many times through the pregnancy felt so nourishingly good. My son, Isaac, was born a huge, healthy baby (it must have been the eggs) at home in Victoria on a rainy day in May. The next day my potato plants were a foot taller. My son’s father might have been hard to live with, but he was an amazing gardener and grew a jungle of food and flowers in our backyard.
2. My friend “Chicken Jen” (who lived down the road from me in Sooke) turned a residential lot into a productive and wild vegetable and herb garden in less than three months, with the help of home-made portable PVC dome chicken coops. The chickens removed sod, and aerated and fertilized the soil in each successive round bed that she planted, and her “ladies” gave her surplus eggs to sell. Her vision for her abundant garden, created while her kids were only two and four, still astounds me. 13 years later, the nickname Chicken Jen has stuck.
3. I moved from the island to Whistler with Isaac and my new partner. I was pregnant again. Our access to food and gardens dried up in the mountain resort. Sure, we could get good local food at the farmers’ market, but we didn’t know the farmers. We no longer hacked down chard from our front yard, or picked brambly blackberries, or gardened for 10 months out of the year. We missed eating farm fresh local eggs.
4. After seven years in Whistler, our growing brood (I’d had one more child) moved to Pemberton. We bought our first home, got a dog and planted a garden. On one of my first rides around town, I discovered the egg box on Urdal Road and I knew we were home. We traded zucchini, cucumber and greens from our first lush, wild backyard garden for composted manure from our neighbour’s farm and for heirloom eggs in every colour.. Having access to real food right where we live, and knowing where it comes from is a big deal. It’s something we love about living here and it’s not something we take for granted.
5. Let’s play local food Jeopardy. The answer is: Bog’s, the Wag’n’Wash, the Animal Barn, AC Gas, Stay Wild, the Owl’s Nest, Mile One, Collins Cross, the egg box on Urdal, the farmer’s market, Brooke and Kevin’s place, and Pemberton Valley Wellness. The business names themselves reveal the flavour of this funky little town. The question: Where can you buy local eggs in Pemberton?
6. The secret: Everyone has their own source. If you don’t time it right on delivery days, you could be cruising around town, visiting all of these locations without realizing they’re part of a hyperlocal egg market. Alternatively, you might well disappoint your family by coming home empty-handed. Sorry, kids, no pancakes this morning.
7. You’ll be late, too, because you’ll have talked to friends and neighbours all over town. During our first couple of months in Pemberton, I would frustrate my partner every time I biked to the store to get milk for his coffee. My 15-minute round trip would invariably take an hour or more, slowed by the pull of my grocery store conversations.
8. Eggs are a window into the local food system in Pemberton. Local food is grown in abundance by experts and amateurs throughout the valley—but you need to know where to go to get it. And to find out where to get it, you need to talk to people. That’s the fun part. If they made it easier, something would be lost.
9. We have a great farmer’s market and some awesome local businesses and CSA programs to get the straight goods right from the source. But you can also find your eggs or fresh basil or seed garlic on the Pemberton Food and Farm Facebook page, a matchmaking service for people looking to buy or sell food, seeds, plants or other random farm and garden stuff. Looking for a Thanksgiving turkey, alpaca wool, goats or egg cartons? Selling tomato starts, plums, bushels of basil? The source or recipient are only a couple of messages away.
10. Farming and backyard growing in Pemberton is surprisingly untrendy. People just raise food and grow stuff here because they can, or because they love to, and it just makes sense. Keeping backyard chickens isn’t new, and while I’m tempted sometimes to imagine myself as more of a homesteader than I actually am, I don’t think I have the heart to deal with bear proofing and the collateral damage when raccoons or cougars or coyotes get into the coops. I barely have the heart to steal eggs from aggressive chickens.
11. Every egg carton has a story. One of our local egg suppliers sells her daughter’s eggs and tracks the cartons to see if they get returned to her shop. One of the farmers at the market in the summer said new cartons cost more than twenty cents apiece—that puts a serious dent in his egg profits. Farmers don’t become farmers to get rich. But what is shared and supplied and circulated in this community is rich. It’s the soil, the place, the creatures, the stories.
12. Eggs have been one of the nutritional threads in raising my kids—one of the first meals they could cook for themselves—one of the nutrient dense meals I’ve eaten through pregnancies, breastfeeding and birth. One of the food sources that connects us to the place where we live.
13. My baker’s dozen. I’m lucky if there are eggs in my house or it’s back to part 5 of this story. My favourite homegrown breakfast:
11 o’clock braised greens & eggs

INGREDIENTS
- A few giant handfuls of greens from the garden (kale, chard, spinach, collard or beet greens)
- A few cloves of garlic (homegrown if you can), peeled
- Coconut oil
- A couple of eggs
- Flax oil
- Condiments (homemade kimchi, sauerkraut or hot sauce & Bragg’s)
- Ground flax seed
- Leftover brown rice (optional)
INSTRUCTIONS
- Wash greens and tear into large pieces.
- Wilt greens and simmer garlic with a splash of water in a pan with a lid.
- Add a small amount of coconut oil to the pan.
- Add a couple of eggs and fry them up in the same pan.
- Serve eggs and your pile’o’greens with hot sauce, Bragg’s, flax oil, flax seed, and homemade kimchi or sauerkraut (*recipes for vegan kimchi and sauerkraut to follow in future posts).
- Add a scoop of warm leftover brown rice, if you have some.
- Eat with thanks. Be nourished.
March 3, 2018