winter has arrived

This afternoon, in my Kitsilano rubber boots, the ones with pink and green swirls on a black background, I went outside to heft a shovel over my shoulder and check that the drains outside our house were draining and the ditches outside our property were, well, ditching. I do own much more utilitarian boots - plain black rubber, solid footbed, thick sole - suited to serious garden and outdoor work. But today's objective didn't include serious work, simply a quick check to make sure we wouldn't soon be driving up our property value with the addition of an indoor swimming pool. 

Besides, I don't often get a chance to wear my Kits rubber boots these days so I was happy to get out in them. They were fine for walks to the beach on rainy days, but if I'm going to be a serious farmer, I must wear serious farm boots. Swirly pink and green fairly scream city newbie and I'm already worried that we leave a wake of people shaking their heads behind us. And so, my Kits boots usually venture only as far as our property line, and only when I'm alone and not contemplating any serious work that might put a scratch in the paint, so to speak.

Boots on, I headed out to survey the winter scene. And Old Man Winter has indeed come to Metchosin. Local media are reporting an accumulation of 41 cm of snow, more than is currently measured at the North Pole. Given the amount of snow, my first concern (after the issue of the  indoor swimming pool) was the safety of the locals. So, first stop was a quick check on one of them. He seemed happy enough, despite being up to his armpits in snow.

The next local I visited also seemed to be faring well, perhaps too well. Such a hardy critter will surely be unfazed by any attempts on our part to protect our newly-sprouting veggies come spring time. This is one well-fed looking long-ears. All I can say is that his lucky rabbit's feet are working for him. If we weren't a couple of vegetarians, his days would be numbered.

I continued to crunch along, breaking through the frozen crust of the snow. Even before I got to the ditches I could hear the water flowing. No need for the shovel over my shoulder. Since temperatures have risen in the last few days, the melt has started but, fortunately, water seems to be flowing in the right direction. 

A quick visit to the seasonal pond was next. It has been appropriately seasonal and filled up. I would never have imagined in summertime that this grassy expanse could possible form a pond. But, there it is, complete with an island in the middle. The ice on its surface is now reduced to a few slushy flows drifting in the current, but last week in the middle of this snowy period, it was a postcard scene waiting for the camera to arrive.

Environment Canada is predicting a warm, wet stretch over the next while. Does this mean that spring is soon to make an arrival and that we won't see any more of this?

Or this?

There's lots to be said for seeing the snow go. It's difficult to get around, the boys can't get out so easily (and it takes forever to get them ready to go out) and the cat gets cabin fever and starts chewing on us. 

In some ways, though, I'll miss the snow. The quiet that falls with the flakes and blankets us in its embrace. The shock of pressing a warm nose to a cold window pane and watching the snow disappear in a fog of breath. The snuggle of two small boys in flannel pajamas when they crawl into our bed on a dark morning and knowing that it's another day of hot chocolate and popcorn and games.

If Old Man Winter wants to stay a bit longer, that's okay. Besides, it would give me a chance to wear my Kitsilano boots again.

Brussels sprouts, the new "it" vegetable

Which would you rather do: 1) get your annual flu shot, or 2) consume a helping of brussels sprouts? If you're like most people - or, at least, most people I know - you'll choose option number one.

The poor brussels sprout has somehow earned a reputation as a vegetable of the lower order, well behind the socially-acceptable broccoli, the ubiquitous carrot, even the sometimes-marginalized cauliflower. But I aim to change the standing of the lowly brussels sprout.

Recently, in our quest to educate ourselves about the farming community of Metchosin, we made a visit to Bilston Creek Organics, a farm run Nao and Trevor Peterson. While we were admiring their green houses and discussing what grows well and what sells well, I couldn't help but notice a long row of brussels sprouts marching down the length of one of their fields. And so, being an enthusiastic sprout eater and never one to pass up the opportunity for a local, organic veg, I offer to take a couple of stalks off of their hands.

As I was loading the brussels sprouts into the back of the car, I realized that most people do not even know what a brussels sprout looks like in its natural state. Their only experience of them is in the produce section of the grocery store where they lie like a heap of Lilliputian-sized green cabbages being passed over in preference of the above named "acceptable" veggies.  For those of you scratching your heads and saying to yourselves "what do they look like in their natural state?" fear not - I will keep you from losing sleep over this one. Here, for your edification, is a pic of brussels sprouts in all their green glory.

Leaves on,

leaves off.

Those darling sprouts simply need to be removed from the stalk with a sharp knife, given a good rinsing, have a few outer leaves peeled off and Bob's your uncle - a delectable veggie treat awaits you.

Stop cringing. It is possible to make brussels sprouts absolutely delish. 

First off, please remember that brussels sprouts are not meant to be eaten with a straw. That means don't over cook them! They should stand up and fight back when you stab them with your fork. You could settle for simply steaming them, but here's a way that will bring even the most reluctant sprout eater to the table asking for more.

Take 25 or so brussels sprouts and give them a rinse. Remove outer leaves to reveal a perfectly glowing green globe of tender leaves tucked around each other. Give them a quick blanching in rapidly boiling water. The sprouts should be a vibrant green, calling to mind fresh spring growth. Quickly drain and plunge into ice water to stop the cooking process ( remember: no straws required). Finely mince a thumb-sized piece of ginger. Sauté the ginger in a bit of butter for 30 seconds or so, add in a tablespoon or two of brown sugar and the drained brussels sprouts. Squeeze the juice of half an orange into the pan. Keep stirring until the sprouts are heated through. Serve immediately. Keep a cricket bat handy to beat back the crowds. Yes, you must share but you want to make sure that you're rewarded for your effort with a sampling of this tasty treat.

May you embrace the beauty of the brussels sprout the way that I have and join me in my quest to elevate the standing of this woefully misunderstood veggie.