Food Warrior Mother

I live in what's called an inner suburb of the city of Toronto.  What does this mean in practical terms?  Well, I have a 7 minute walk to the subway line or a 1 minute walk to a bus stop that will take you directly into the subway station with a very short ride.  Ergo I have easy and affordable access to all that a world class city like Toronto has to offer.

My daughter has 4 more days of high school classes.  This morning I reflected upon her years of education in the big city and my choice 13 years ago to move here and raise her in the most populous city in Canada.  A place in Canada that bears the brunt of criticism by the rest of Canada.  I myself was raised in a Toronto suburb and lived in Kitchener-Waterloo for over a decade and still can't understand why people hate '416' so much.  I love all parts of Canada and have visited nearly all of our all major cities and find the criticism well, rather childish really.

As a breeder I am thankful that 13 years ago my 32 year old self had the foresight/good fortune to recognize the advantages of moving to the city for my daughter's public school education.  As a breeder who did this on my own I am especially thankful.  Unlike the children of many of my suburban and rural parenting peers, once my daughter was old enough, she started walking to elementary school.  She was in grade 4 and started crossing a moderately busy arterial street without me and there is no crosswalk or lights (gasp!).  In grade 7 she went to an inner city alternative public school for middle school and took the subway everyday for this - she was 11 the fall she started doing this on her own (horror!).  Thus, starting in grade 7 I no longer had to transport or 'taxi' her to activities.  I have had years of being free of this duty.  I merely dole out money for TTC tickets and await texts of details of her social life and departure/arrival times and I don't even have to be home to receive these.  And I don't know how I'd even start to estimate the hours saved of me sitting behind the wheel of a car on the busy streets of the suburbs surrounding Toronto or the long drives from rural homes to lessons/friends/shopping.  I dated a suburban guy and recall many hours driving with him and his children and little else from the time we spent at his suburban home.  I don't recall any activity that didn't involve at least a 15 minute drive to get to out there.

Another significant advantage to raising her in Toronto has been the access to a large assortment of fantastic public schools including specialty schools for the arts and technical skills. Two personal favourite's are Bendale Business and Technical Institute's Horicultural Program in Scarborough and The culinary program headed by Chef Keith at Thistletown Collegiate Institute in Rexdale.  My own daughter went to three stellar public schools in this city:  West Prep, Horizon Alternative and Harbord Collegiate Institute.

I could go on and on but this is quickly becoming a melancholic soliloquy from a soon-to-be-empty-nester. I will sign off with two pics I took yesterday while on an urban farm tour.  There are many reasons to love the city of Toronto.  Urban parenting and the thriving urban agriculture scene in Toronto are at the top of my list today.  These two streams of thought are more connected than you might think.  A core philosphy in my parenting has been the choices of food I've fed my child with.  Fresh local food has been a central component of our  little family's diet and allowing other families affordable access to this is a passion for this particular Food Warrior Mother.

Artichokes growing on the rooftop of AccessPoint on the Danforth - a ladybug is the red spot.

A Newfoundland flag caught my eye across from one of the H.O.P.E. Community Gardens in Parkdale.

Nourishment 101

"Her eyes were quivering." I am a voracious reader so I no doubt have read this description more than once in my life. Until this past Friday night I hadn't witnessed it first hand without emotions overwhelming me simultaneously so the trite description didn't immediately spring to mind in real time.


I have a certain type of face.  The type of face that strangers regularly approach for directions.  And the type of face that says:  You can confide in me; I am all ears and empathy.  I can thank genetics for this - it runs in the family.  At times it can be uncomfortable but it is always a moment of real communion with a fellow human.


I had such a moment on Friday night.  I attended the approximately bi-monthly, and for now, roving St. Jamestown Community Café.  I learned about this endeavour at the monthly (intentionally roving) Foodie Drinks.  The organizers I met (Nancy Slamet and Lucas Lu) certainly captivated my interest and I attended not only to support their efforts but also as a detective.  I was sussing out the vibe in order to bring back info to my upcoming community association meeting.  The St. Jamestown Community Café is hoping to eventually create an incubator model for other cafés and since Nancy herself interned at the long time successful Queen Street Commons café in Kitchener, I have tremendous faith in the likelihood of the success of the St. Jamestown Community Café.

St. Jamestown community café Friday November 18th, 2011.

I spent most of the evening parked in the same chair munching down on delicious and healthy food that attendees purchase using a pay-what-you-can system so that anyone, with any means, can come participate in the café.  The pay-what-you-can model has been utilized in a few well known establishments and I foresee a huge increase in it's use due to changing worldwide economic circumstances and the increasing popularity and acceptability of social enterprises.

While I stayed stationary at the same table, the cast of characters surrounding me completely turned over three times.  I first enjoyed an amusing rapport with three long term residents (30+years!) from the community.  These three women have raised children and buried husbands together.  The only one with a walker departed by getting up and dancing her way to the front of the room (where the musicians were providing an excellent foot tapping show) before returning to collect her walker and go home.  I was still giggling when a much older woman with a walker came through the door.

The elder woman's paid caretaker saw my now empty table and got the woman seated and her walker stashed away before going to collect her a plate of food.  The woman settled quite close to me and I asked her her name.  She told me and was quite delighted to find out that I knew it was italian since one of my own neighbours that is about the same age (91) has the very same unusual italian name that has fallen out of favour since the earlier part of the 20th century.

This woman was as sharp as a tack and her immediate familiarity with me was a little daunting but quite enjoyable.  We meandered our way through the niceties and I found out that she too is a long time resident of St. Jamestown and in fact moved to the area after her mother died in Kapuskasing, ON.  She was 20 years old so that means that she has lived there for over 70 years!  A veritable walking history book!

In the course of the conversation I thought to ask her if she had any children.  That is when her eyes started quivering and I simultaneously thought of the trite phrase whilst panicking at what I was to find out.  "Yes, my daughter.  But she left me.  Five years ago.  I buried her.  She had taken a job since she was broke.  She hit her head.  Her work didn't phone a doctor, and so she just went to bed that night.  AND DIED."  I capitalize since by the end of this halting speech the tiny frail woman was wailing.  And I was bawling.  And during the course of her delivery I had instinctively reached out and grabbed the tiny arm and felt the life force of this woman humming along, albeit in vast amounts of pain.   I could not choke back my sobs.  So we sat there and cried a bit with me holding on to her arm with both hands now - an awkward but universal type of embrace that is instinctive to humans sharing pain.  After a few minutes I said that I applauded her courage to get up every day and go out and that no mother should ever have to bury a child.  After a few more weepy minutes we gravitated away from the subject and she entertained me with stories of her life as a cleaning woman in Toronto and her cat and the bedbugs that her nursing home is fighting.  She left after eating a healthy sized meal for a 91 year old and I hope to see her again.

The last cast of characters at my table were also fascinating and engaging people.  Two of them were the musicians finally enjoying their repast after entertaining us so wonderfully.  In fact we were all so engrossed in conversing with one another we were literally kicked out (laughingly)!  I had not realized that the tables were being packed up around us and ours was the very last table to be dismantled and put away.

Kudos to the St. Jamestown Community Café.  If my experience can be considered representative of other attendees, I have no doubt that your community development efforts will be successful.  I left the event nourished completely in both body and spirit and I can't imagine any other measure of success that such an effort would desire.

Cheap Shots

It is always interesting for me to think now of how quickly the world has changed.  Back in 1977, with my first camera, there was always the underlying cost consciousness for me (and my parents).  Every click meant a photo development cost and if you didn't focus or use a flash when needed you were essentially throwing money away because the development of the photo was the only way to know about whether your skills made the cut.

This new hobby of mine was soon neglected with the resurgence of parental turmoil and the almost overnight removal of extras from our comfortable middle class life.

The hobby didn't really resurface until the birth of my child.  This was in 1994 and although digital cameras were making their debut in the consumer market, my now adult pocketbook was competing with the costs of a new mortgage and child care costs.  And then, after the abrupt ending of my marriage, frugality once again became a necessity.  However, I did manage to snap enough pix in those early childhood years to fill (and label!) a few photo albums.

And now I own a digital camera thanks to my mother.  About 8 years ago she gave me an awesome present of a top of the line point and click camera with a swivel LCD screen.  By today's standards it is quite primitive but I still love it.  In the past year I've taken to carrying it with me nearly everywhere.  I delight in the opportunity to take unplanned urban shots like the ones below.  I love the ability to take multiple shots and immediately assess them (or not).  The camera has become like an appendage to me.  And perhaps it is my way of taking cheap shots at the world I am so regularly angry with.

South side of King St West East of Spadina  September 2011

Vaughan Rd North of St. Clair August 2011

I have had fun filling up albums on Flickr, Facebook and Picasa.  I am contemplating trying all 21 of the suggestions here.  My old recipe blog has a lot of food pictures and may soon see a resurgence due to my never ending penchant for cooking and my new knowledge about taking food photos :)