-
Plants to swap, buy and heal
Wednesday’s fun was the GTUF plant swap, at which we shared around our surplus plant starts. It was our monthly meeting and this time the theme was growing and cooking herbs. A couple of our members – Donna Neve & Gene Monast – presented a wealth of information about the power of such herbs as sage and rosemary and extolled their many benefits – ease of growing, beauty in knot gardens and the like, and offered some delicious ways to use them, in breads, cookies and other baking. Then we pushed our chairs back and set to gathering plants for our gardens. Many of the starts had been grown from seeds shared at our seed swap back in January, so the plants go round and round the neighbourhood.More plants were on offer at Haliburton Farm on Saturday, when the farmers set out a large display of vegetable and berry starts as well as succulents, ornamentals and native plants. The farm now includes five farming businesses, an organic seedling greenhouse and an organic native plant business, so it’s thriving and developing in interesting ways.
Last night I went to hear Karin Kilpatrick talk about healing with plants. She is the medically-trained partner of the amazing herbalist and food forester Richard Walker, who’s in town this weekend to give another of his dazzlingly informative and wide-ranging workshops on food forests. Karin is a doctor who’s worked emergency rooms and general practice in South Africa and rural Canada, and she told us about the “trance-breaking” first encounter with Walker, when he transformed one of her patients from “raw meat” stage eczema to perfect skin in two weeks using diet and herbal tea (the magic food was kicheree, and the tea was dandelion).
She has watched the vibrant health of rural Canadians plummet over the past thirty years of her medical practice and she is categorical in her diagnosis: inflammation, depleted immune systems and accelerated aging brought about by malnutrition. “You don’t give the immune system the right food,” she said, “and it loses.”
But our bodies are exhausted too by the stress of working and living in an oppressive system. The strain of working in increasingly demanding jobs with dwindling budgets takes its toll even from doctors: the pay-per-patient system imposed on GPs “keeps us all in serfdom,” explaining that after office and staff costs are taking into consideration she earns $7 per patient. In reducing patients to the sum of their parts, “it’s reductionist and dehumanizing.”
All colonization systems begin to take control of populations by taking away food autonomy, she observed, pointing to the way “we were sold a bill of goods: cheap, centralized food. We ate it and we got sick.” We do not live in a system where growing your food and healing yourself has a dollar value, and we live in a culture in thrall to monetary reward, so nothing will change unless we change ourselves.
She has changed her life, and sworn off the 10-minute rule for patient consultation. She takes fewer patients and spends longer with them, and she brings the chronically ill together in circle groups for extended education on how to nourish themselves back to health. She meets with them for an hour and a half each week, for 28 weeks, to teach them about nutrient-dense foods, stress management and natural cures for their conditions. “And I’m making my rent,” she added proudly.
Showing her roots – as a South African and as an allopathic doctor – she told us she had one day realized that she was guilty of “apartheid towards plants”. But she was not alone in this: all those who do scientific studies on plant remedies are guilty, because they don’t examine the effects of the whole plant as indigenous cultures do. Instead, science in its reductionist way seeks to find the “active ingredient” and extract that for study. And so of course the results are skewed (as Michael Pollan reported in In Defense of Food, in his discussion of nutritionism and the tragic misuse of plant compounds like beta-carotene instead of whole foods).
The most actively entertaining part of the evening came when we passed a bottle of Spilanthes (tincture) around the room and sampled for ourselves a powerful traditional antifungal, anti-inflammatory and analgesic remedy with some unusual properties, including tremendous qualities in stimulating saliva production. It may, we were warned, remind you of childhood experiments in putting a 9 volt battery in your mouth. And it certainly did fizz and sparkle on the tongue, lips and gums – Karin swears by it for dental hygiene and says it cured her abscessed tooth in days, and a patient’s cold sore in front of her eyes.
Anything more we can do to change the world? someone asked. Her answer was simple. Tell your health care system administrators that you want naturopathy, herbalism and other health-promoting practices included in health care coverage, so that we’re not just paying to treat sick people, but to make good health available to everyone.
-
Octopus Day on the Gorge
I have some deadlines looming, so of course I am overcome with a need to cook and clean and hang laundry on the line while the sun shines.And so it was that while diligently sorting through the hidden treasures in my freezer, I came upon an octopus, bounty from last year’s Michelle Rose seafood share.
This particular species, the red octopus (O. rubescens), is considered bycatch in prawn fishing, so the Michelle Rose fishermen decided to make a meal of it and add it to their offerings. Spot prawn season started last Thursday and I’m looking forward to another share of both this year. All the more reason to drop everything and cook up some octopus surprise.
Octopus is not something I’ve found too often on Canadian menus; when I mention it my friends gag and make squeamish noises about tentacles. They are surprised when I tell them how tender and delicious it can be, as they assume it will be rubbery like cuttlefish and as flavourless as the depressing platters of calimari that (dis)grace so many bar menus.
One of my enduring memories of Crete is a particularly delicious dinner featuring octopus in red wine. This must have been nearly ten years ago, yet the taste and texture live on. When in Italy I always have insalata di polpo, and occasionally carpaccio di polpo. So I was game to try cooking some myself.
Many recipes consulted, and Italian cooking videos watched for good measure. In all of them they dunk the octopus three times in boiling water, to curl the ends of the tentacles and gradually introduce the change in temperature to assure tender cooking. They all stewed or simmered the octopus in water, but I had taken the words of saint Harold McGee to heart–“If you cook octopus in water, you dilute those juices and their flavor.” The flesh, he advises, is 80% water, so it does release a lot of juice while cooking.
This was a hefty one, in excellent condition, having been frozen in salt water. I forgot to weigh it before I started but I’d guess at least 2kg, with very long tentacles making it a bit of a trial to handle. I decided to blanch it as directed – eschewing the salt at Harold’s suggestion – and divide it in two so I could try a couple of different recipes.One batch I cooked in the oven, with no added water, at 200f. I can cool this and eat it as
is, or use it in salads or make a carpaccio. Harold said it could take up to five hours for a large octopus but this one was seeming very tender after blanching, so I only needed an hour; put it in a smaller casserole and turned it at the halfway point and then cooled it in its juices. When I reduced them they were salty indeed so I was glad I hadn’t added any seasonings.
The other half I cooked in red wine the Cretan way. The initial instructions were a little difficult to believe: cook in olive oil on low heat until all the juices are absorbed. Of course the opposite happened, but I figured I could 
reduce the juices later. I decided to pause after half an hour as the flesh was starting to tenderize beautifully. I added the red wine and gave it another half hour and let it cool in the juices before tucking it away in the fridge for my supper.Looking forward to a nice healthy meal of it which will contain iron, calcium, potassium, phosphorus, selenium and zinc; vitamins C, A, B12, folate and Niacin; as well as some omega-3 fatty acids, choline and taurine.
Here are the recipes:
Slow-cooked octopus (based on Harold McGee’s To Cook an Octopus)
- 1kg octopus
1 large kettle boiling water- Clean the octopus, if needed: remove any extraneous matter from the hood, cut out the eyes and remove the beak (found on the bottom of the octopus where the arms meet). Rinse well.
- Using a large fork, hold the octopus just under the hood so that the tentacles fall downwards. Dip the tentacles almost up to the fork in the boiling water and hold for about 15 seconds. Lift and note the way the ends have curled in. Repeat, plunging a bit further to cover the hood. Once again lift and let the water drain; then repeat a third time, ensuring the octopus is covered in water. Hold there for about 10 seconds and then lift, drain and place in an ovenproof covered casserole.
- Place the casserole in a 200f/95c oven and cook for 2-5 hours, checking for tenderness with a knife.
- Drain the juices and boil them down to reduce them to the desired consistency and amount.
- When cool, you will probably want to remove the skin and perhaps the suckers for a more aesthetic look.
- Serve the octopus as is, with the juices, or cut into pieces and make into an octopus salad dressed with good quality olive oil and fresh lemon juice (cold boiled and sliced potatoes make a nice addition) with freshly chopped parsley; a mixed seafood salad; or make octopus carpaccio (scroll down to see photos in this recipe for easy instructions) drizzled in olive oil and lemon dressing. Or perhaps you could add potatoes and beans and make a version of this nice sounding octopus stew.
Octopus in Red Wine (based on Cretan Cooking, by Maria & Nikos Psilakis)- Clean the octopus, if needed: remove any extraneous matter from the hood, cut out the eyes and remove the beak (found on the bottom of the octopus where the arms meet). Rinse well.
- Using a large fork, hold the octopus just under the hood so that the tentacles fall downwards. Dip the tentacles almost up to the fork in the boiling water and hold for about 15 seconds. Lift and note the way the ends have curled in. Repeat, plunging a bit further to cover the hood. Once again lift and let the water drain; then repeat a third time, ensuring the octopus is covered in water. Hold there for about 10 seconds and then lift, drain and place on a chopping board.
- Cut the octopus up into pieces about an inch long, or to your preference.
- Heat half a cup of good olive oil in a pot large enough to hold the octopus pieces comfortably. Add the octopus and cook at low heat for around half an hour, until starting to become tender.
- Add half a cup of red wine and cook another half an hour or so, until very soft and tender.
- Serve with rice and a Greek salad, and lots of your best crusty bread.
-
Untying the Apron – Victoria launch
Please come and join contributors Eve Joseph, Rhona McAdam, Sheila Norgate, Cynthia Woodman Kerkham and Patricia Young in celebrating this anthology of prose and poetry, which celebrates mothers of the 1950s. At Planet Earth Poetry this Friday, 7:30pm.
Latest Posts
- Sublime
- Good weather for reading
- The world, the world
- Sublime launch!
- Planet Earth Poetry – Readings by Volunteers, Victoria 2026
- Poetry at the Goldfinch
Aldeburgh Poetry Festival Barny Haughton BBC BC poets Berkswell blackberries Black Stilt Bologna book launch Borough Market Caerphilly Carlo Petrini Catalonia culatello Cyrus Todiwala dairy Dijon Edinburgh Fanny Bay Feast of Fields ferries Food and Morality food journalism Michael Pollan olive oil tasting Omnivore's Dilemma Our Food Our Future Oxford Parmigiano-Reggiano persimmons Planet Earth Poetry poetry poetry readings Poetry videos prosciutto salumi Sean O'Brien sensory analysis Suffolk ticks tortelli di zucca Troubadour Wendell Berry Wendy Morton Yvonne Blomer
In her latest collection, Rhona McAdam navigates the dark places of human movement through the earth and the exquisite intricacies lingering in backyard gardens and farmlands populated by insects and pollinators, all the while returning to the body, to the tune of staccato beats and the newly discovered symmetries within the human heart.
“…A beautiful, filling collection, Larder is a set of poems to read at the change of the seasons, to appreciate alongside a good meal, and to remind yourself of the beauty in everything, even the things you may not appreciate before opening McAdam’s collection….”
Rhona McAdam is a writer, poet, editor, and Registered Holistic Nutritionist with a Master’s in Food Culture from Italy and a deep-rooted passion for ecology and urban agriculture. Her work spans corporate and technical writing to poetry and creative nonfiction, often exploring the vital links between what we eat and how we live. Based in Victoria, BC, and available via Zoom, Rhona is always open to new writing commissions, readings, or workshops on nutrition and the culinary arts.
