Localvore’s Dilemma

After reading how B.C. journalists Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon went on a 100-mile diet for a year as a reproof to global food distribution, I decided to go localvore with my own half-mile diet.

I am going to limit my food shopping and eating to within half-a-mile of where I live, thus saving energy. No more car-jaunts to far-off emporia. It’s fine to shop organic but not when I have to travel miles to the St. Lawrence Market or to the Dufferin and Riverdale organic markets.

No, local commitment requires I buy where I live. I look forward to changing my expectations of food. I never felt more relaxed about food than when I lived in a small village. Without a car, I had limited choice. Our local market depended on villagers shopping regularly with them, as a result they stocked what we wanted. In turn we paid higher prices for the food but it was worth it in terms of convenience.

But is this going to be the same thing in downtown Toronto? I live at Yonge and Bloor, surrounded by food shops and restaurants and other temptations.

First shock: my choices are visibly and frustratingly curtailed. A half-mile is nothing. I can’t get to Scrivener Square on Yonge and shop the “Five Thieves”, the excellent but pricey row of food shops - Pisces for fresh fish, Harvest Wagon for the freshest vegetables, fresh ginger cake from All the Best. Patachou patisserie doesn’t make the cut.  Pastis Express and The Rosedale Diner have dropped off the radar and so in another direction has Whole Foods and Jacques’ Bistro du Park, Yorkville’s venerable nabe.

What I was left with was spotty. Rabba cuisine, as my neighbours call our local 7/24 chainstore. High- end takeaway from Dinah’s Cupboard and Pusateri, the upscale restaurant Pangaea, coffeeshops, pizza parlours, La Mexicana and Crepes a Gogo. I can’t reach the local market, Valumart. It’s kind of ironic that I can get to Holt Renfrew’s restaurant so I can eat Poilaine bread flown from France. This is the Marie Antoinette approach to sustainable food. Let ‘em eat a $40 loaf.

A shock but not a surprise. I may be on a half-mile diet, others on a 100-mile diet, but most of the shops and restaurants around me are on the thousands -of -miles diet because it’s cheaper. Fresh,local is for the affluent green. Pangaea focuses on fresh, local, organic and it’s expensive. I wonder whether consumer action can ever change this. Suppose everyone was crazy enough to go on a half-mile diet, would that force change in local restaurants and shops, and would we be willing to pay for it?

I walk the walk to what is now my only remaining nabe, Avant Gout on Yonge at Roxborough.

I often passed Avant Gout’s austere storefront with mild interest. One day I dropped by for lunch and ate amazingly good grilled liver, medium rare. Up to that time I thought Martin Kouprie’s grilled liver at Pangaea was non-pareil. Now he has competition.  

But today Avant Gout has gained significance as a future model nabe. It’s within easy walking distance, small and cozy and convincingly local. First people I see are my upstairs neighbours. By definition, the nabe is communal so people are less demanding, they want to be comfortable. And as well,this is a Rosedale nabe, and stiff upper lip is the style along with the dark panelled walls of an investor’s study.

The menu however breaks through stereotype with elan. It does so at expense of local. Irony again. Do I really want just fresh and local when I can enjoy chef Kamal Hami’s Morrocan spin? Old familiars take on a spicy bite. I scan the menu for signature dishes like Mr. Hami’s steamed mussels in a leek, shallot and saffron bouillon. It’s off tonight, alas, and I struggle to maintain communality and not feel miffed. But crab bisque is an excellent alternative with a lingering spicy aftertaste. Vegetable samosas are garnished with a chili, mango and bracingly sour tamarind sauce.

I usually turn up my nose at the farmed Tiger shrimp because they taste woody and bland, but tonight, four big juicy shrimp are roasted with a mixture of peppers and accompanied by a crouton spread with mustardy tapenade. I swallow them happily along with my localvore principles that cry out against eating a shellfish farmed in rice paddies and ruining the environment.  But then I tell myself  I’m not reforming the world at once, just trying to tweak a tiny bit of it.

I know fish isn’t local – unless it’s pike from Lake Ontario, pike apparently flourishing in the industrial wastes. My dinner companion picks grilled halibut that arrives on top of a mound of fresh vegetables and gives the hi-sign. I go for the Salmon tagine. I wondered just how this would work out, a tagine is usually a stew. But here the salmon has been rubbed with spices and then cooked quickly and served with a fragrant sauce of lemon preserves, shallots and saffron and the result is smooth and subtle with a citric kick. Avant Gout is serious too about vegetables: my salmon comes with perfectly cooked fresh asparagus and green beans.

The desserts are rather too simple: a flourless chocolate cake and the inevitable crème brulee. I’m disappointed that the ice cream isn’t homemade. Gelato Fresco’s latte and caramel are insipid. If we have to have bought ices, why not Toronto’s finest, Greg’s handmade. I feel particularly deprived. I may be on a half-mile diet but Avant Gout isn’t.
**1/2 Avant Gout, 1108 Yonge St. 416-916-3681 Food: dinner for two $90. Few wines by glass $7.50. Modest wine list. No Wheelchair accessible.