Phew! OK so a bushel of tomatoes is a little more gigantic/cavernous/never-ending than I imagined. In fact after I first began happily slapping pans of tomatoes into my oven for roasting, I looked at the gazillions that were left and—for a minute there—thought I was going to run from the house screaming.

But never mind all that. Over the course of three days last week I processed this parade of sun-warmed Roma magnificence from Highmark Farms in Cookstown, ON.

After first wheeling said bushel home from our local Fairmount Park Farmers’ Market in my Red Flyer wagon, the marathon began. I roasted, I blanched. I blended. I plopped sauce in Rubbermaid containers and made rustic labels (yes I did!). I popped whole tomatoes in freezer bags—with dates clearly marked in blue Sharpie. Those babies are all snug in my freezer now.

But this project didn’t just squirt tomato innards all over my kitchen and trigger eight extra dishwasher loads. Nope. What this project did was renew my appreciation for the quality of a homemade product (more on that later), but also for all the hard work performed by previous generations of (primarily) women.

Here I was proud/exhausted after a short bout of what can only be called “hobby” preserving. Today though, unlike generations past, I have choices. I’m not charged with preserving food to feed my family through a long cold winter. (Isn’t that what Loblaws is for?) 

Seriously though, what I am interested in is upping our consumption of quality local food, and becoming more conscious of all the inputs up and down the food chain. Yes, my project is small-scale. For some of you, one bushel of tomatoes is amateur league—you’re canning somersaults around me. But for those of you who are curious, who’ve been asking me about my tomato pile, I want to share a few thoughts. Here’s what I learned from one lovely locally grown bushel of tomatoes.

The plan
Like many of you out there, I confess to a fear of canning. I hope I get over it, but this year I chose the straightforward route of freezing. And I chose two methods requiring as little labour as possible:

1) Roasted tomato sauce. I followed this recipe from Disney Family.com. After roasting tomatoes (with skins left on) with garlic and herbs, you pulse with an immersion blender to create the sauce. I made one change, swapping in Balsamic vinegar for sugar. (Adding sugar just feels wrong to me.) Frozen sauce keeps four months in the freezer.

2) Whole, skinned tomatoes. I also used this recipe from TLC. Tomatoes keep up to nine months in the freezer.

Time
For me, processing was time-consuming but simple work. For the roasted sauce, after the first couple of batches, I doubled my capacity by putting batches on two oven racks. With the blanching method, once I did it a couple of times, I really sped up.

Quantity
All in all, my $25.00 bushel yielded about 20 Ziploc bags of Roma tomatoes (I was aiming for the same amount as a big can), plus roughly 20 cups of sauce. We ate some of the sauce right away, so it’s a little hard to calculate—yum!

Freezer space
Good news for those of you, like me, resisting the urge to buy a chest freezer. I scrounged enough space for a bushel of tomatoes right in my side-by-side. Two shelves are plenty!

Uses
Already, I've used my sauce to make a hearty tomato soup—just add a bit of stock and cream. I’ll also be making pasta sauce, chili, curries and other soups.

Quality
Best of all, what I’ve noticed right away with this tomatoes-gone-wild project, is the depth of flavour you get. With my sauce in particular, roasting at peak freshness has given me such a unique product--you just can't get this in stores. Will I do it again next year? Sign me up. I know the kind of work I’m getting into, but I'm also thrilled by what I get out of it!

This is a chilling tale of a bear I met on vacation.

But first I should probably ask if I'm the only one. Do family visits to the zoo ever make you uneasy too? And I’m not just talking about prices here. I'm talking about all those animals in their enclosures. Do you find yourself wondering about them? Ever since the story of the Toronto Zoo’s elephants exploded, there’s been lots of talk in our house about animals in captivity. If elephants are suffering so acutely—isolated and crushingly lonely, feet damaged and constantly infected from the concrete paths they were never meant to endure, dying prematurely—what about other animals? Are they suffering too?

What a fraught issue this is for families. On the one hand, viewing animals with our kids can invoke a rapturous joy and love of nature. I’ll always remember the way my son rushed at the aquariums at the zoo when he was a little guy. Nose-pressed, he would stand there endlessly captivated by these tiny flitting exotic fish. And doesn’t stuff like this give our kids a desire to respect and preserve the environment?

But more and more, zoo trips fill me with nagging questions. Here’s an example. On our recent March Break trip to Charleston, SC we visited Charlestown Landing, a historical state park which also features a small zoo. In the “Animal Forest”, you get to traipse along wooden boardwalks, masses of Spanish moss trailing in the breeze, and see animals that are (or were in olden days) native to the Lowcountry. As has become a habit for us, we critiqued the animals’ habitats. “The birds can’t fly away?!” my son asked eying all the netting around the seabird enclosure. There was little signage, so we couldn’t tell whether the egrets, pelicans and such, had been injured and rescued—or not. The otters, with their bubbling river and stone enclosure, seemed to be thriving though.

Then came the kicker. In the next enclosure, I stared straight into the eyes of a single black bear (although reportedly he has a roommate). It felt Alice-in-Wonderland strange. Perched on a wooden structure, placid and still, he looked like an overstuffed toy. Maddeningly though, I couldn’t find any details about this bear. What was the back story here? “I’ve got to look into this,” I told myself.

Well today I did. And the story that I uncovered about this bear literally gave me chills. Just a couple of clicks on Google and I found the story of “Memphis”. Last year, this 450-pound black bear was found “in the backyard of a Lowcountry residence, chained to a tree or pacing back and forth in a small dog trot”. I also read that South Carolina is “the only state where keeping bears and other wild animals, even cobras, is legal.”

While Memphis is safe now, some black bears in the state have seen a worse fate. My brief search also turned up news of an unspeakable underground practice of animal abuse that apparently still occurs today in Pakistan and South Carolina. It’s called “bear baying”. In 2010, the Associated Press broke the story including video evidence of baying events. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to watch what’s happening to these bears or even write about it in my own words but here’s how the Humane Society of the United States describes it. I’ll warn you. This is really tough to read:

“A black bear cowers in the corner of a pen in rural South Carolina. She is tethered to a stake, surrounded by hundreds of onlookers.

She is foaming at the mouth and popping her jaws, behavior that means she is terrified. Her captors have cut or removed her claws and many of her teeth, leaving her defenseless.

Three hounds run at the bear from one end of the arena, barking furiously. Some of them bite her face and legs. Others jump on her. She backs up on her hind legs, trying vainly to shield her face. The assault continues for four hours, as nearly 300 dogs attack her in quick succession.

This spectacle is a bear baiting competition, called a "bear bay" by participants, and is practiced only in South Carolina. It is similar to the archaic blood sport of bear baiting.”

HSUS investigators videotaped this scene during visits to four bear baiting events in the state hosted by breed clubs associated with American Kennel Club and United Kennel Club. According to attendees, the bear used in some of these events was a 15-year-old female taken from the wild as a cub.

On its website, the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources has this statement:

Please know that S.C. Department of Natural Resources (SCDNR) does not consider bear baying/baiting a legitimate field trial and has never issued and will not issue permits for this activity.

As required by SC law, the only captive bears the SCDNR has permitted are those that were in captivity before January 1, 2006, and for which owners provided proof of possession prior to that date. No additional permits will be or have been issued for the captive possession of black bears in South Carolina, other than those legally possessed in another state and brought into South Carolina for temporary exhibition.

SCDNR does not consider the possession of black bears by individuals to be biologically sound, safe for the local community, or in the best long-term interest of the wild black bear resource. No further reproduction of captive black bears will be allowed in South Carolina.

In 2008, the South Carolina Attorney General issued an opinion that it is possible for bear baying/baiting to be prosecuted as animal cruelty under Title 47.

Activists maintain that an underground baying practice continues to exist. And petitions against this continue to circulate.

Asking questions about Memphis the bear led me to a horrible story of inhumanity, but I uncovered some signs of hope too. While Memphis endured years of mistreatment and is now unable to cope in the wild, he's been rescued and found a home at Charlestown Landing. And apparently there’s no evidence Memphis endured baying. Is the Animal Forest the best place for him? I don’t know, but I also know, he’s in a far better place today—and that things could be infinitely worse.

Sometimes zoos present us with stories like this. And sometimes on a simple trip to the zoo we encounter plenty of gray areas and ethical juggernauts. But there's more to the story. Zoos are also evolving, aiming to rescue animals, and/or protect and encourage endangered species. They're also looking at completely altering their animal environments. I think it’s worth staying in the loop, visiting zoos, and most of all, asking lots of hard questions. After all, for the Toronto Zoo’s elephants, it was such questions—from one passionate city councillor named Michelle Berardinetti—that changed everything. As I write, three weary elephants, Toka, Thika and Iringa, are reportedly this close to being loaded onto military helicopters and winging their way towards the warm embrace of a California sanctuary. I think that’s pretty awesome.

More:
"Rescued bear now living at Charles Towne Landing," Post and Courier
"Investigation Documents Cruelty of Bear Baiting," The Humane Society of the United States, August 2010
"Uncovered in South Carolina: Bear Abuse for Show", Huffington Post, August 23, 2010
"Information Regarding Bear Baying/Baiting," www.dnr.sc.gov/admin/bearbb.html
"Zoo's elephants will be sent to sanctuary," Toronto Star, October 25, 2011
"RCAF Asked to Help Transport Three Toronto Zoo Elephants to California:Zoo Check," Montreal Gazette, March 21, 2013

 What’s the best way to convince meat lovers to “Put. The. Drumstick. Down?!” Nothing works better for my guys than earthy, gorgeous black beans.

Nutrition
As a meat replacement black beans really deliver. They’re not only low-cost and delicious, but a nutritional powerhouse, packing in—well you name it—fiber, protein, antioxidants, calcium, folic acid, plus important minerals like iron, magnesium and potassium. They even contain small amounts of omega-3 fatty acids.

On the side
With meatless meals, I work a little harder with extras to add a luxurious feel. This soup becomes special with a few tasty additions: sprinkles of fresh cilantro and green onion, a simple guacamole, creamy organic yoghurt, and corn tortilla chips fresh from the oven with a bit of oozy cheese on top.

Canned or dried?
The other issue when cooking beans usually becomes “canned or dried”? In true less-meatarian style, I’d say that’s up to you. In my house, I keep both canned and dried beans on-hand. When I’m stuck for time, canned beans are perfect. However, I also find that dried beans elevate this dish to another level, so try them if you get the chance!

BLACK BEAN SOUP
This is hands-down my favourite way of using black beans.

Ingredients
2 tbsp olive oil
2 cups dried black beans, rinsed & soaked overnight (or 2 cans black beans, rinsed)
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 rib celery, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, peeled and chopped
1 medium zucchini, chopped
1 small red pepper, chopped
1 cup frozen corn kernels
½ tsp finely chopped and seeded fresh jalapeno (optional)
1 tbsp cumin (or more if you like)
2 tsp chili powder
Salt and pepper to taste
5 cups good-quality vegetable broth (chicken broth works well too)
1 cup water

Sides
Chopped cilantro and green onions (optional)
Que Pasa Organic Tortilla Chips
ounce or two of cheddar or similar cheese
1 ripe avocado
1 fresh lime
Plan organic yoghurt
Hot pepper sauce

Instructions
- In a large soup pan, heat olive oil.
- Add onion and garlic and sauté for a minute or so. Add celery and carrot and sauté for another couple of minutes. Add zucchini, red pepper and corn. Continue sautéing for a couple of minutes.
- Next add black beans, jalapeno (if using), cumin, chili powder, and salt and pepper. Sauté until spices are fragrant.
- Add broth and water.
- Cover and simmer for 2 to 2 ½ hours, stirring occasionally. (If soup is becoming too thick, add a little more water.)

When soup is almost done
- Taste soup, confirm beans have softened nicely. Also season as required.
- Smash one ripe avocado and add your desired combination of: salt, fresh lime juice, chopped cilantro and red pepper sauce.
- Place tortilla chips in an ovenproof dish and sprinkle with grated cheddar or similar cheese. Place in 350”F oven until cheese melts.

When soup is done
- Using a handheld immersion blender, pulse the soup to give it some creaminess. (Do this to your desired consistency.)
- Serve soup with yoghurt, guacamole and chips, cilantro, green onions and hot pepper sauce, which all work equally well as soup garnish, or a side...or both.

Less-meatarian note: A bit of leftover meat (beef, chicken, smoked sausage or crumbled bacon) makes a great addition to this soup as well, for those times you may not be going meatless.

More:
"Make or buy? Canned vs. homemade beans," www.thekitchn.com
"The battle of the beans: which are best?," The Today Show
“Black Beans: Nutrition From South of the Border,” The New York Times
My previous blog post on "less-meatarianism"

When it comes to being environmentally friendly, I like steps that DON'T involve: a) total deprivation, and/or b) obscene price tags. While solar panels, for instance, would be great for my house, that’s not a simple or affordable proposition—at least not yet.

One great-but-doable step I have taken though is to become a “less-meatarian”. This is a term and lifestyle change I first came across while reading New York Times writer Mark Bittman. Basically it means eating a whole lot less meat. How you do that is up to you.

Does skipping the occasional double-cheeseburger really matter? The UN has estimated that livestock production creates almost 20 percent of the world’s greenhouse gases. And according to Bittman, a University of Chicago study has “calculated that if Americans were to reduce meat consumption by just 20 percent it would be as if we all switched from a standard sedan — a Camry, say — to the ultra-efficient Prius.” But eating like this could also save you money, lower your risk of cancer and heart disease, and renew your passion in the kitchen. 

Let’s be honest. We’re not all inclined to forgo meat completely. (I’ll include my family here because we still love a nice steak now and then. And if you think everything tastes better with bacon, uh, I’m going to say you’re so, so right.) Realistically, many observers feel we have a better chance of turning things around via the less rigid principles of less-meatarianism — making real changes, but without banishing Thanksgiving turkeys and weekend eggs Benny forever.

At our house, we’ve been less-meatarian for years. Okay, we blow it a bit during BBQ season, but overall, the changes have stuck. Rather than a sense of deprivation, our tastes have shifted so we now actually crave all those veggies. Over the next few Mondays, in Meatless Monday tradition (which actually began in World War I — who knew?), I'll share some of my favourite veg recipes. 

But I'd love more variety over here too! Have a great meatless recipe to share? Please post it. I may just try your dish and show the results!

More:
The Meatless Monday movement, www.meatlessmonday.com/
Mark Bittman’s article, Rethinking the Meat-Guzzler
My previous post about food waste
My article on Reducing your family’s meat consumption

I’ve been pitching stories about food waste to magazines for a couple of years with no luck—until now. Later this year I’ll see one published in a parenting magazine. (I’ll link to it when it's out.)

Have we reached the tipping point on food waste? There’s definitely more buzz lately. Last month the UN launched a global campaign to cut the “1.3 billion tonnes of food lost or wasted each year” around the globe. 

In 2010, Jonathan Bloom, a U.S., author and activist — tireless champion of waste reduction—released his book American Wasteland: How America Throws Away Nearly Half of Its Food (and What We Can Do About It). Imperfect looking (but perfectly edible) produce, like the tomato above, is one of the foods he says most people would toss.

At our house, we got fed up with food waste several years ago after an embarrassing clear out of our freezer. As my husband and I pulled out package after package of food—snowy, unappetizing victims of freezer burn, quite literally gone to waste—I resolved it wouldn't happen again.

It's been a fascinating journey—but way more uncomfortable than I expected. The reasons we waste food aren’t very flattering. Sometimes we’re as finicky as our kids. (Funny looking tomato? I don’t want to eat that.) Or we’re conspicuous consumers. We buy glorious cartfuls of (local, organic) food at all the right shops and markets but waste half of it because, let's get real, we hit the drive-thru three times a week. Or we’re just plain greedy. We want choice, four kinds of bread in the bread basket, even if we've cut back on gluten and only make sandwiches twice a week. (Guilty.)

But other factors are at work too: our hectic lifestyles, and a consumer culture pressuring us to buy, buy, buy. Anyway, whatever's to blame, we all know where it leads—to nasty stuff growing at the back of our fridges, freezers and pantries. The huge takeaway though is that wasting food has big-time environmental, financial and social consequences. As Bloom writes: “Wasting food squanders the oil and water used to produce it, and food rotting in landfills creates climate-changing greenhouse gas emissions.” This is also food that hungry people could have eaten.

The upside? I’ve found turning things around isn’t actually that hard—a little planning here, a little family communication there—and you can save quite a bit of coin too. According to one estimate, the average family of four wastes more than $2,000 worth of food every year. How would you like to spend those savings?

Does food get wasted at your house? Have you found ways to waste less? I’d love to hear about it.