I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to one of my favourite food discoveries since
moving here to France. Although this food is super common and easy to get here, it might
surprise you to know that it is definitely not French in origin…

Fresh, sun-ripened, first of the season strawberries. There is nothing like it. Luckily, they appear
at the market just at that time of the year when I start to swear I may never again be able to
recall what a real strawberry actually tastes like. A bit dramatic? Perhaps, but greenhouse
strawberries in the middle of winter, imported from who knows where? Not for me, thanks! I’ll
hold out for them to be in season every time, because potentially forgetting, only to then
rediscover what a sun-ripened strawberry actually tastes like each year, is worth the wait in my
opinion…

Spring might just be the best season. Not only does it mean asparagus and strawberries (which taste oh so incredible after all the endless winter months of practically nothing but beets and celery root), but it also means that there is hope in terms of the weather. Trees everywhere start to blossom, the days get longer and the weather finally starts to get warmer. It also means that it is finally time to drag out the ole’ barbecue and get back to grilling!…

It was on a recent trip to Vietnam this past December, that I unexpectedly rediscovered salad. There, amidst steaming bowls of brothy noodle soup and giant plates of drool-worthy grilled meats, were these little unsuspecting produce-forward wonders. Salads bursting with flavours and textures beyond anything I had ever imagined. Each bite a new experience, we savoured every mouthful. Safe to say it completely blew my mind. This recipe pays homage to that experience while also highlighting all the beautiful spring greens the markets seem to be bursting with here these days…

Although no longer necessarily considered essential to survival, wild foraging for ingredients has renewed itself over the past ten years or so as a popular pastime. Due largely in part to the success of the local food movement, the resurgence of wild ingredients being served now more commonly in restaurants has also been a factor…

It’s March and the chilly weather just won’t quit. Spring is so close I can almost taste it, but I’m starting to get the feeling there might still be a couple more weeks of scarves and layers. At times like this, I turn to comforting foods to lift my spirits…

Every year around this time I am reminded of the wonder I felt during my first winter in Paris, when I experienced the extensive varieties of citrusfruit available during this season. So in awe was I at the time, I lined up every single variety we had on hand in the restaurant where I worked before snapping a quick photo and throwing it up on my Instagram. Blood orange, Meyer lemon, bergamote, limette, volkamer lemon and yuzu, each one a tangy orb of liquid sunshine brightening up my workday. In the eyes of a cook, there is nothing more cheerful and inspiring…

Last week I succumbed to the wicked flu that has been going around, and let me tell you, it was a doozy. Four solid days of feverish symptoms followed by a bonus week of lingering aches and general fatigue…

Real Greek feta is one of my favourite cheeses, so it's a pity that it isn't more popular here in France where I live. A brined cheese that is traditionally made from a combination of sheep and goat milks, feta is often seen used in salads and pastries. Sliced, cubed or crumbled, it is deliciously tangy and a simple way to add saltiness to any recipe that calls for cheese…

Although both anchovies and broccoli tend to have a bad rap, I have come to enjoy both of these ingredients equally, especially in this salad…

In my opinion, the most important meal of the day in a restaurant is not necessarily the one being served to the customers, it is actually the one being served to the employees. Staff meal, or perso as it is called in french, is a group meal served to the entire restaurant staff prior to the beginning of each service. Synonymous with the restaurant world, especially here in France, this meal is an essential part of the workday. Even if the actual sitting-down part of the ritual lasts only for a brief 30 minutes, taking the time to collectively eat together encourages team building and allows all levels of staff a space to connect as they nourish themselves in preparation for the grind that lies ahead of them… 

It shouldn't come as much of a surprise when I tell you that the most important holiday traditions for my family tend to revolve around food. In the lead up to Christmas this year, however, I'm on a month-long trip to Singapore. I'm here with my friend Harry Cummins, and we are collaborating on a pop-up restaurant focused on sourcing and featuring as many local ingredients as possible. And while Christmas decorations are certainly in abundance here, turkey is not. For the time being, I'm not too heartbroken about it, though, as Singapore has a rich and diverse food culture just waiting to be devoured…

The first time I ate grapes in France is seared into my memory. I had arrived in Paris at the height of grape season, a fresh-faced, naive, young(er) Canadian who had simply forgotten (or never known) what real grapes taste like. The markets were bursting with local varieties, many of which I had never even heard of. I carefully selected a beautiful bunch of Muscat grapes, their skins as black as the night sky.

There is one thing I know I can rely on each year that will assuredly manage to lift my spirits in wet weather: mushroom hunting season! In France, where I live, cool rains bring out masses of unlikely amateurs, young and old alike, who trudge deep into the forest in search of not-always-so-buried treasures. Even the grumpy old police captain who hangs around my favourite local brasserie turned up the other week sporting an ear-to-ear grin as he presented multiple wicker baskets filled to the brim with cèpes he had snagged earlier that morning…

Cranberries are one of the very few commercially grown fruits that are native to North America, and as such they aren't very common in France. So when I saw the bags of fresh red berries on the shelf at one of the larger local grocery markets, I practically bought the entire display! Not entirely sure what I was going to do with them, I dumped the whole lot into a chest freezer, because if I know anything, it's that cranberries keep remarkably well in the freezer…

My mom's stuffing is the best. I know you are going to try to tell me otherwise and I'm not trying to start a fight, but seriously, her's is hands down the winner. I pine for its comforting, sagey goodness, but as is my usual expat conundrum, it is once again not very likely I'll be able to make it home for Thanksgiving to enjoy it…

My grandmother, Eunice Cammack, was known far and wide for her delicious and bountiful cooking and baking. Visiting her always meant being greeted with a warm hug, and the guarantee that you wouldn't be leaving hungry.

I absolutely love midsummer, when vegetables really start to taste their finest. As if to certify this statement, this past weekend, the farmer's market near my mom's place was simply overflowing with bounty and abundance. I happened across the loveliest and sweetest new potatoes from a local farm and I knew I just had to make a potato salad.

Living in France for the past three years, I have often been asked to describe traditional Canadian cooking and I have just as often been stumped. Understanding how intertwined French culture is with food, I can appreciate why people assume that this would be a fairly easy question to answer. But the reality of simplifying and defining Canadian food as a cut-and-dried thing is a bit more complicated, at least in my opinion.

I met my most recent sous chef, Isabella "Bella" Lin, a year ago at a party I was catering. She had an undeniable spunkiness that drew me to her. We easily became fast friends, sharing a good laugh over the fact that we had both made our acquaintance in French despite English being our more comfortable common language.