Browse Tag: kitchener

This little lady went to market…

Hello lovelies!

More musings from my travels to the Great White North, which thankfully was not so white, but rather many shades of spring. This post has a bunch of snapshots, taken in my favorite Ontario village; read on…

Spring growth; my mother-in-law's lawn in Canada

One of my favorite things to do when I visit my relatives in Canada is to spend at least one day in St. Jacobs Country, a community in the Kitchener-Waterloo region of Ontario. This picturesque little village was originally settled by Mennonites who made their way over from Pennsylvania during the late 18th century. The area still has a fair number of Old Order Mennonites who maintain the quiet, traditional way of life of plain dress and agricultural livelihood. Many of them keep farms.

A farm in St. Jacobs Country
A Mennonite rides through St. Jacobs

There are fun shops with things for the home, crafts, quilts and local maple syrups. There are quaint little eateries with good German sausages. There are older establishments still making things the old way, like the Hamel Brooms shop which still makes gorgeous corn brooms. There’s my personal favorite gourmet shop, the Farm Pantry, which sells yummy food items.

Hamel Broom shop, St. Jacobs Village
Shelves of good stuff inside Farm Pantry

There is also an amazing market disctrict where local farmers and vendors sell their wares to the public every Thursday and Saturday: an amazing display of grown-in-the-area fruits and vegetables, food stands, fresh meats, freshly bottled maple syrups, baked goods and a little flea market area of cheap stuff. There’s usually a manure smell, since farmers also bring livestock to the market. I’ve come to pseudo-appreciate this smell for two reasons: first, it’s synonymous with Spring in a place that endures several cold months out of the year, and second, as someone who lives in a metropolitan area, this smell reminds me that some people are still doing things the good old-fashioned way. That’s what St. Jacobs is all about. And by the way…you can’t beat produce fresh from the farmers market–check out my bowl of giant strawberries that I got from there 🙂

Canada Musings: Food

Hi readers! Sorry I was away so long–I took a fun trip to Canada to visit family. Now I’m back, and am glad to share some musings on my travel…

Something I find incredibly charming about the Kitchener-Waterloo region of Ontario (where my husband and his folks are from) is its abundance of old-fashioned markets. There are farmers markets including that of St. Jacobs, one of the best known in Canada. Because K-W has welcomed so many foreign settlers over the years, there are several specialized markets and butcher shops that cater to the immigrant populations in the area: German stores, Portuguese stores, Polish stores and many others. There is a strong reliance on butchers among these meat-loving peoples.

EuroFoods, a Polish store in Kitchener that apparently has the best sausages ever.

Before landing at Toronto’s Pearson airport earlier this week, my dear father-in-law made sure to head to the butcher first to stock the fridge full of veal bologna, head cheese, salami, pork chops, sausages and hams (for the record, I absolutely refuse to eat head cheese).  Cured meats, cured meats and more cured meats, with some uncured meats stuck in between. One night, I enjoyed a delicious gluttonous dinner at the in-laws’: porkchops, Oktoberfest sausages, heads of garlic and green onions,asparagus, and avocado and cucumer salad. One afternoon, I had a German-style smoked sausage for lunch in the Mennonite village. Later that evening, I had some delicious pork chops and homemade sausage at a good friend’s house for dinner. Two days later, my dear brother-in-law lovingly prepared a big pork roast for lunch to feed all of us. The day before flying back, my father-in-law insisted on preparing pork shish kabobs and Oktoberfest sausages for us.

When I first started dating my husband, his regular consumption of such foods puzzled and worried me. I felt that his traditional Romanian diet needed a great overhaul, for health’s sake. After all, he wasn’t going to get nutritional guidance from his family. Case in point: his 89-year-old grandfather came over for dinner during the gluttonous feast and had two full plates of meat. He refused to take one single vegetable. This is a man who had triple-bypass surgery a few years back.

Over the last nearly 6 years that my husband and I have been together, I’ve slowly given up the diet-overhaul ghost. Eventually, that salty smoked flavor gets the best of you. Each time I visit Canada, I eat a little more pork. I never really used to eat sausage, but now I know them all. Seriously–I now know the difference between Italian sausages and Hungarian sausages, German sausages and Polish sausages. I’ve learned to tell the difference between smoked, boiled, fried and grilled sausages. I know all the different slabs of pork. So I’ve become a seasonal Romanian eater–gladly, albeit moderately, partaking in this unhealthy deliciousness during my twice-yearly visits to Canada.

Now I’m back home after enjoying my sporadic foray into Central and Eastern European fare.  I’ll be eating extra-healthy food and working out hard for the next 6 months to earn my next food vacation. Happy eating!

Enjoying sausage at the St. Jacobs farmer's market.

Canada Musings: Food

Hi readers! Sorry I was away so long–I took a fun trip to Canada to visit family. Now I’m back, and am glad to share some musings on my travel…

Something I find incredibly charming about the Kitchener-Waterloo region of Ontario (where my husband and his folks are from) is its abundance of old-fashioned markets. There are farmers markets including that of St. Jacobs, one of the best known in Canada. Because K-W has welcomed so many foreign settlers over the years, there are several specialized markets and butcher shops that cater to the immigrant populations in the area: German stores, Portuguese stores, Polish stores and many others. There is a strong reliance on butchers among these meat-loving peoples.

EuroFoods, a Polish store in Kitchener that apparently has the best sausages ever.

Before landing at Toronto’s Pearson airport earlier this week, my dear father-in-law made sure to head to the butcher first to stock the fridge full of veal bologna, head cheese, salami, pork chops, sausages and hams (for the record, I absolutely refuse to eat head cheese).  Cured meats, cured meats and more cured meats, with some uncured meats stuck in between. One night, I enjoyed a delicious gluttonous dinner at the in-laws’: porkchops, Oktoberfest sausages, heads of garlic and green onions,asparagus, and avocado and cucumer salad. One afternoon, I had a German-style smoked sausage for lunch in the Mennonite village. Later that evening, I had some delicious pork chops and homemade sausage at a good friend’s house for dinner. Two days later, my dear brother-in-law lovingly prepared a big pork roast for lunch to feed all of us. The day before flying back, my father-in-law insisted on preparing pork shish kabobs and Oktoberfest sausages for us.

When I first started dating my husband, his regular consumption of such foods puzzled and worried me. I felt that his traditional Romanian diet needed a great overhaul, for health’s sake. After all, he wasn’t going to get nutritional guidance from his family. Case in point: his 89-year-old grandfather came over for dinner during the gluttonous feast and had two full plates of meat. He refused to take one single vegetable. This is a man who had triple-bypass surgery a few years back.

Over the last nearly 6 years that my husband and I have been together, I’ve slowly given up the diet-overhaul ghost. Eventually, that salty smoked flavor gets the best of you. Each time I visit Canada, I eat a little more pork. I never really used to eat sausage, but now I know them all. Seriously–I now know the difference between Italian sausages and Hungarian sausages, German sausages and Polish sausages. I’ve learned to tell the difference between smoked, boiled, fried and grilled sausages. I know all the different slabs of pork. So I’ve become a seasonal Romanian eater–gladly, albeit moderately, partaking in this unhealthy deliciousness during my twice-yearly visits to Canada.

Now I’m back home after enjoying my sporadic foray into Central and Eastern European fare.  I’ll be eating extra-healthy food and working out hard for the next 6 months to earn my next food vacation. Happy eating!

Enjoying sausage at the St. Jacobs farmer's market.