I never want to buy tomatoes again...

...instead, I want to grow them myself.

We're all aware of the importance of eating our greens, but I want to talk about how good it is to grow your own greens, and reds, and purples...and how great it feels to feed them to your kids!

My son holding a tomato plant he grew from a seed

We live on the 22nd floor of a high rise in Panama City. Our apartment has a balcony with a view of the Pacific Ocean and the Panama Canal in the distance. Every day thousands of pounds of produce come in ships and containers through the canal. It is then delivered to Panamanian supermarkets. Chinese markets in Panama carry high-quality imported produce, and only a lucky few can purchase it. These grocery stores charge about $8.95 for a basket of 1/2 lb of strawberries, $4.95 for a tiny pack of blueberries, and up to $9 for a 5-oz bag of baby spinach.

Our spinach

What about local production? According to Debora Rivera, a Panamanian Environmental Engineer, Panama has one of the lowest restrictions of the use of pesticides in the world. In an informal conversation with the Country Representative of the Inter-American Development Bank in Panama, he explained that in Panama, the incidence of cancer most likely caused by the use of pesticides (for both farmers who handle the chemicals and those who consume the produce), is rampant. Some residents of Panama are taking matters into their own hands, reacting to disturbing legislature that approves the use of very unhealthy pesticides, and created organic farms in Panama. Some sell their organic produce in the city, at high prices.

It does not surprise me that Panamanian farmers have to use a lot of chemicals in order to grow broccoli, cauliflower, and tomatoes, for example, because these plants are not native to Panama's hot and humid climate. Panama's average temperature is 82 degrees and its average humidity is 81.5%. In addition, there are tons of tropical bugs around. This is a rainforest, after all. Needless to say, many plants don't do well in that environment and the most effective way to grow luscious green lettuce is to spray on nasty chemicals.

Armed with this knowledge, I decided to try to grow my own tomatoes, spinach, carrots, zucchini, and herbs, among others, while avoiding the use of pesticides. The result is that after two months of planting, watering, and nurturing seeds and seedlings, I harvested my first spinach leaves yesterday.

Our first spinach harvest

We live in a world where food is manipulated, genetically engineered, and tainted with chemicals in order to survive a long voyage from farm to table. I personally don't like the idea that the produce I'm feeding my children travels from a farm in California, through the Panama Canal, and onto my table. I wish the trip was shorter, so I started my own garden...22 stories up.

Our veggie garden high up in the sky

I close my eyes and imagine a spinach leaf that I nourished from infancy, and love the feeling of envisioning that it's doing good things to my body. I made baby food for my son with that spinach (chicken stock, black quinoa, potato, spinach and kale), and loved knowing exactly what was on those leafy greens.

As an anthropologist, I like to think about what we decide to feed ourselves as humans. We are, after all, what we eat.

I couldn't resist including the Candide reference...sow your own garden. Don't mind if I do!

From seeds...

Cue Pride Tears

I'm back after a hiatus from blog writing. Instead of baking a bun in the oven in the literal sense,  I've been nursing and taking care of the bun in my oven in the figurative sense.

My second baby boy was born in September, and even though there hasn't been much action in my kitchen lately, I managed to invite friends and family over for a few memorable meals.

Jumbo deep fried shrimp with tartare sauce

Combine the emotional extravaganza of maternity hormones with successful taste pairing, and the result are tears at the dinner table. 

These are photos of a meal I made for my parents and a family friend. The menu included a to-die-for tartare sauce* (see recipe below), lamb with a bechamel truffle topping, and a chocolate orange souffle that made my parents cry.

Lamb with bechamel truffle topping, green beans wrapped in bacon and mashed purple potatoes

Even though the food was tasty and sophisticated, my parents' tears probably had more to do with how proud they were that I achieved my dream of completing culinary school in Paris, toddler in tow.

As lovers of good food, they were beaming with gluttonous pride. As a mother of two, I understand what motivates parents to cry with pride. My three-year old recently started swimming free-style beautifully, and my five-month old turned over on his own yesterday. Cue pride tears. 

I can't wait to see what my sons come up with that will make me react the way my parents did. I'm guessing it was more than just the chocolate.

Chocolate mousse with orange segment and juice reduction and pomegranate-stained candied orange zest

***
Tartare sauce recipe:
- mayonnaise (I prefer to make my own - by hand - I swear it tastes differently). Whisk two egg yolks until creamy consistency and slowly pour 1 1/4 cups of vegetable oil while whisking very quickly.
add these ingredients to taste:
- lemon juice
- mustard
- finely chopped capers
- finely chopped shallots
- fresh tarragon
- fresh parsley
- salt
- pepper
- cayenne pepper
- 1 boiled egg (pressed through a fine sieve/chinois)

Le Cordon Bleu = The Plan

This journey begins in Port of Spain, Trinidad & Tobago. As wild parrots fly by my window to make their morning calls, the French Embassy telephones to inform me that my student visa was granted.

The Plan: 

Move to Paris for eight months to study Le Grand Diplôme, the highest degree in culinary and pastry arts, at Le Cordon Bleu.

Why:

This crazy idea started when I was telling my husband (for the millionth time) about my dream to go to culinary school. But I didn't want to go to just any culinary school. I wanted to go to the culinary school. Le Cordon Bleu. And I didn't want to go to just any Cordon Bleu. I wanted to go to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, the city that has inspired some of the most influential and creative people of all time.

He, being the most generous, supportive, and fantastic man in the world, said, "Do it!"

Background:

In order to tell you the whole story about this dream of mine, I should start from the beginning. I remember eating (and enjoying) spinach crepes at age six, when my friends thought they were "yucky" and "weird". I was raised eating escargots and drinking Möet Chandon (even if a bit watered down) before the age of ten. The protagonists of this exposure were my mother, a fantastic cook, and my father, a fantastic eater.

I eat street food, restaurant food, and everything in between. Macaroni and cheese from a box (which I first ate at the age of 26, when my husband introduced me to the stuff), to warthog in peanut sauce in a remote village in Equatorial Guinea, Africa. Fat ants in Colombia and fried grasshoppers in Mexico. Boeuf Bourguignon in a Parisian cafe, and lovely spots of tea in London, Karachi, and Beijing.

I was born and raised in Colombia, one of the most beautiful places in the world. My family is from Cartagena, the most beautiful place in the world. Cartagena's history dates back forever and ever as a melting pot for West Africans, Middle-easteners, Native Americans, and Europeans, among others. The food of Cartagena is a product of its diverse immigration history. A common dinner in Cartagena, for example, is a pot roast cooked in the French style, served with coconut rice and plantains, which are West African dishes that I also ate in Equatorial Guinea, Africa, by the way. But I'll leave that for another blog entry. 

Inspired by the social context in which I grew up, I went on to study two Masters degrees in social anthropology, one at the London School of Economics (LSE). The LSE is a petri dish for international development workers, one of which I became. I worked at an NGO in Washington DC on education programs in Africa and Latin America. A couple of years later, I moved to Trinidad and Tobago because my husband was offered a job working for an international organization. I left my job and dedicated myself to being a wife and mother. Shortly after our son was born, I realized I didn't want to continue working at the same pace as before he was born. That's when I considered realizing my dream about attending culinary school.

I'd like to think of myself as an amateur food anthropologist. I have much to learn, however, and thus my plan to become a chef. I am not a foodie, nor am I an expert in anything. What I am is an ethnographer who enjoys learning about food, its history and context, and who wants to become a chef. In this blog, I plan to chronicle my experience living in Paris and studying at Le Cordon Bleu as well as talk about the food of my travels. Trinidadian cuisine, for example, is fascinating to me, so look for entries about it during the next few weeks before I head off to Paris.

Here we go...