Maple Waffles with Caramelized Apples
Yields 8 Waffles, Serves 4

Ingredients

Waffles
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup wheat germ
2 tbsp ground flaxseed
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp fresh ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp fine salt
1/2 cup finely chopped toasted pecans
3/4 cup whole milk
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup melted unsalted butter
1 large whole egg
1 large egg white

Topping
3 tbsp unsalted butter
2-3 crisp apples peeled, core/seeds removed and thinly sliced
2/3 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup whole or halved pecans
Pinch of fine or flaked sea salt

Method

Waffles
Preheat a waffle iron to medium heat.

Heat a small sauté pan over medium low heat. Add finely chopped pecans and toast until fragrant, about 3-4 minutes. Avoiding over toasting, as the flavour will turn bitter. Remove from heat, set aside to cool while you prepare the remaining dry ingredients.

In a large bowl whisk together the flour, wheat germ, ground flaxseed, baking powder, spices, salt and finely chopped toasted pecans.

In a separate bowl or large measuring cup (for easy pouring) mix together the milk, maple syrup, melted butter, egg and egg white.

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour the wet ingredients. Whisk together until just combined, don’t overwork the batter, a few small lumps is ideal.

Pour about 1 1/2 – 2 cups of batter onto your waffle iron and spread evenly. (This recipe is based on a four quadrant waffle iron; the amount of batter you use will depend on the size of your iron). Drop the lid and cook until crisp and golden brown, about 6-8 minutes depending on your iron. Keep finished waffles warm until serving.

Topping
Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the apples and let cook until slightly browned, but still crisp, about 5 minutes. Add the maple syrup and pecans and toss to coat. Cook for about 2 minutes more; be careful not to burn the syrup. Serve warm spooned over waffles. Top with a pinch of flaked sea salt and additional pecans for garnish if desired.

Cynthia Peters, the master-mind behind From the Farm Cooking School and Horntrip Magazine’s resident recipe goddess, has created another mouth-watering dish; this time with County pork from Goodfellow Meats in Picton, Ontario.

Roasted Maple Pork Loin with Bacon Stuffing

Ingredients

1 Pork Loin, with ribs – approx. 4 lbs. (about 5 ribs)*
10 slices of side bacon
2 tablespoon maple syrup
Salt and pepper

Stuffing

½ cup onion, finely chopped
1 ½ cups cremini mushrooms (or white), chopped
½ cup toasted walnuts, chopped
1 cup chopped bacon
¼ cup chopped Italian or curly parsley
Fresh ground pepper
Olive oil

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

Stuffing

In a medium hot pan toast the walnuts for about 3 minutes.
Stir often. Remove from pan and set aside to cool.
In the same pan cook the bacon till crisp and place on a paper towel to cool. Remove most of the fat from the pan, saving about one tablespoon in the pan. Add the onions and sauté till soft (about 5 minutes), add in the mushrooms and cook another 5 minutes. If the pan gets dry, you can add a splash of olive oil. Place all of the cooled ingredients in a bowl and toss in the parsley and season with pepper.

Assembly

The loin should be at room temperature before you begin. You will need to create one flat piece of pork to prepare it correctly for stuffing. With a sharp knife, start cutting lengthwise into the loin, about a ½ inch into the meat and start opening it (like you are unrolling a carpet). It should be approximately the same thickness as you cut along so you end up with one even piece. Season the pork inside and outside with salt and pepper. Place the stuffing evenly inside and roll back up. It should now look like the original roast, but larger due to the stuffing. Wrap the bacon around the roast, overlapping a bit on each piece. Tie with string at regular intervals.

In an ovenproof dish, place the strip of ribs on the bottom so they become a rack to hold the meat, and place the roast on top. Cook for an hour and a half (approx). – untill it registers around 140 degrees.  Fifteen minutes before you pull it out, drizzle the maple syrup evenly on top of the bacon.

Remove from oven and tent the roast with some tin foil. The roast should rest for about 15 minutes and its temperature will continue to increase. The centre of the roast should register around 150 degrees before serving.

Buying the Pork Loin: Ask your butcher to remove the rack of bones from the roast (or you can do this at home).

*Reserve the bones for placing on the bottom of your roast during cooking.

It all began when he was ten years old. TJ, as he is know by customers, family and friends, started with a broom in hand doing chores at his uncle’s abattoir just outside the County. Today, he chops and slices at his butcher shop, Goodfellow Meats in downtown Picton, and loves every minute of it.

To say that Goodfellow’s is a family business is an understatement. Its branches grow deep and wide. In the early 1900’s, TJ Quinn’s great, great uncle starting raising animals for the local residents of Yarker, a small town located between Belleville and Kingston. Soon the abattoir was added and a smoke house. Uncle Doug is now in charge of the cattle and pigs for the operation and Uncle Brian owns and operates the abattoir, Quinn’s Meats.

TJ makes the road trip to Yarker up to four times per month, depending on the season to visit his uncles and family members and bring back the goods for the shop. Their smoked products are particularly good and remain a big draw for clients. From large and small smoked hams, to custom smoked luncheon meats, like Montreal Smoked Beef and Kielbasa, the range is impressive.  And of course the ever-popular bacon, both back and side, runs off the shelf. You can find at least 10 varieties of homemade sausage made on the premises by TJ and “ready to cook” prepared products such as stuffed pork chops and chicken breasts.  Their homemade corn beef and peameal bacon are also winners. When he is not preparing the meats, TJ is at the counter chatting up the many regulars that frequent the shop. Interacting with the customers is one of his favorite parts of the job.

Being in the meat business full-time since he was 16, TJ was ready to take the reins in 2007 when Doug Goodfellow sold his operation to him and his Dad, Dan Quinn. And yes, Doug is family too. He married Uncle Brian’s daughter.

TJ easily fit into the role of manager of Goodfellow Meats having worked his way through the various jobs at the abattoir and gaining butchering experience at a shop in Kingston. He attributes his success to the circle of seasoned people around him. The late Ralph Irvine taught him a lot and was especially helpful when TJ first arrived at Goodfellow. And yes, today, Ralph’s grandson Wesley and son Greg round out the team behind the counter. Even TJ’s dad, stepmother and brother have been part of the circle over the past few years.

With many of us wanting to know where our food comes from, it is refreshing to know that this “Field to Counter” operation is the real McCoy.  The animals’ journey can be traced from one family member to another, all passionate about the treatment and care of the animals and providing an excellent end product to the customer.  Hopefully TJ and the Quinn family will keep the branch growing, providing us many more years of delicious products that we can truly say, we knew the pasture it grazed on and the path it travelled to our plate.  As their tag line says, “Always County Fresh”.

Few things say Canadian winter like the vision of a frozen lake dotted with ice fishing huts huddled together, as though themselves trying to stay warm. I’ve always wondered what went on inside those tiny frozen houses, luckily for me, a short drive from our farm was my answer.

Our band of misfits arrive to Sunset Farms and Cabins, and the Rabbie family welcomes us with sincere hospitality. The Rabbie’s are a hard-working family, and have been for generations. The farm was born first, once growing over a million and a half tomato plants for the burgeoning County canning industry; it expanded to build several small cabins on the Bay of Quinte, which became prized destinations for fishermen across the globe seeking the shores infamous Walleye. 17 years ago, the Rabbie’s expanded again by putting huts on the ice and making the daunting commitment to operate year-round. While most farmers and County businesses covet their off-season, the Rabbi’s work tirelessly through – when asked when the last vacation they took was, Mark laughs. “Never,” his weary reply. Each member of the family expertly does what’s needed. Muriel jokes her job lies somewhere between delivering calves, and housekeeping, their son Matt, the self-titled “Pepper King” has been applying his knowledge of agriculture to expanding the farm, Connie, the matriarch, takes care of the booking and phone inquiries, their youngest son Brad helps manage ice fishing and Mark determines his role as: jack of all trades.

The day is mild (for February), and I feel confident I will be boasting a mythic fish tale about my own catch when the day is through. The only thing missing is a steaming hot toddy in my thermos – drinking on the ice, cited as an essential element to ice fishing culture, has become illegal, and some establishments are now regularly patrolled. We pile into the Argo – an expensive, deadly-looking 4×4 which pulls an amphibious trailer behind it. Covered in thick clear plastic to keep the weather out, the Argo takes off, and with trepidation we set out on the ice. We’re reassured that the ice is a safe 8 inches thick, but warned that in some places it can be as thin as 2 inches.

After a bumpy ride, we arrive to the huts –it’s beautifully desolate in the middle of a frozen bay. Light snow was falling all around us, and the two huts had already been warmed with propane heaters. We stand, mesmerized as Mark drills outdoor fishing holes into the ice with a giant auger, waiting for the burst of lake water to rise up from below the depths. It’s amazing, and unsettling, that life can exist underneath so much cold! Several hours later, I’m doubting that there actually is life below – despite five rods in the water, expertly baited minnows, and many an impromptu song written to entice our gilled friends, not even a nibble is had. I glide over to some other huts, warm with fishermen visiting from Pennsylvania, and they assure me that this spot is amongst the best in the world to catch Walleye – its this fact, and the Rabbie’s generous hospitality that keep them coming back several times a year. I hear classic tales of how big their fish have been, how many they’ve caught, and I see in their eyes the reason they’re there. Their eyes have a glimmer of something I don’t yet understand: the catch.

I return to my own hut, motivated that my beginner’s luck is going to land me a 14 pounder. Two more hours pass. The sun has set, and even my three pairs of socks can’t fight the cold that’s seeped into my bones. I give up, begrudgingly. Outside, I thumb a ride from the passing Argo, and, defeated, our band of misfits heads for shore. On our drive back, I marvel at the patience fishing takes. I think about the settlers, the loyalists, the natives that have survived these harsh winters for lifetimes before us – just how did they do it before Argos and augers and propane-heated huts? Philosophic thoughts erode as we touch land, and the quiet of the frozen lake is behind us. Watching it fade in the rear view mirror, I wonder if the glint in the fisherman’s eye was more than the catch. In the frenzied state of instant gratification most of us live in, maybe the solitude, the peace, and the waiting of fishing is equally as addictive.

Deep in February, when Southern Ontario winter has me in a chokehold, it’s bolstering to think of impending Spring and the potential my garden embodies. Snow and cold temperatures induce rest, but it’s at the expense of regular involvement with the outdoors. By switching my attention to gardening, I lunge purposefully at optimism and leave resignation to frost and darkness behind. Picton’s Seedy Saturday, held on February 26th from 10 AM to 3 PM in the St. Andrew’s Church basement on King Street, is my ticket to help abolish seasonal disillusionment by celebrating plants, soil, and sunlight.

The event’s focus is on the personal and environmental benefits of saving and planting heirloom and open pollinated seeds, seemingly modest, shapeshifting kernels vital to food security. Farmers have saved seeds for thousands of years so it’s not a new habit. But the increasing dominance of hybrid seeds makes conserving heritage seeds more necessary, and political, than ever before. Hybrids were designed to provide higher yields but expire with each harvest. Keeping seeds year after year allows for self-sufficiency. Many farmers have eschewed the use of hybrid seeds for this reason and have turned to heirloom and open pollinated varieties because they’re adaptive, diverse, yield plants with intact signature traits and can be used in perpetuity.

Seedy Saturdays value the ethics and contributions of small-scale farming but insist they’ve been developed by backyard gardeners too. While small-scale farming has contributed to seed saving, families and friends have been instrumental in ensuring seeds’ longevity by passing them down through generations, and by immigrating with favourite, culturally important foods and introducing them to new areas. In this spirit, Seedy Saturday was developed, and invites people to gather and share their seeds as well as stories and information about them.

Seedy Saturdays were initiated by Seeds of Diversity, a Heritage Seed Bank promoting crop conservation. The events are organized by volunteers and take place across the nation, but each version is unique to its host town since it comprises its community and their experience growing food suited to where they live. Picton’s Seedy Saturday will feature vendors, gardening demonstrations, children’s activities, and the opportunity to buy and enjoy lunch with friends. The heart of the event is the swap table where fellow gardeners leave seeds in exchange for others—mutual benefit that costs nothing apart from the dedicated time and labour spent squirreling seeds. Local people define the mood and scope of the day by virtue of the seeds they bring and the conversations they summon.

Seeds are a profound premise for a community event because they’re able metaphors for connection. Planting a seed is an act of intention and a phrase synonymous with the originating point of a story, a feeling or a strong idea. Seeds also bridge distances between places, as in Russian tomatoes that grow in my yard, and histories that span local or far-flung generations or just encapsulate the past few summers. After growing food in Milford for several years, I can tour my garden and recall which plants emerged from seeds given to me by friends. My lucid, matte green garlic scapes, ranging cucumbers, spicy nasturtiums, and bee-attracting, blue-starred borage all chart when I met people I’ve come to cherish and are the binding agents between us.

The subject of raising healthy vegetables can be riddled with technical data but, being new to growing my own food, I value my inexperience. I’m already studious, which can make me cautious, and my garden grants permission to simply, gratifyingly learn by doing. Plants are remarkable because they’re bound to thrive and will always respond to their circumstance. If you attempt to grow them without much foreknowledge there’s more room for marveling at their complex transformation. I can forgive myself for mistakes I make when planting, like grouping all of my nightshades together and incurring the hornworm’s wrath. Even hunting for pests is pleasurable, though these are particularly gruesome, because it’s explorative and reveals whole worlds if you’re willing to focus, be still and observe them. The merit of doing this is massive because plants teach successful living since they embody every characteristic we need to get by. They adapt and improvise in response to their setting while still possessing the integrity of their fundamental selves. Last summer, I helped harvest rows of bush beans so lush and productive it took days to reap their rewards. It was a moving and especially memorable experience because, in order to fully reach into their depths, I had to lift up their base and shimmy underneath it, letting each plant rest against my torso and my lap. The sun shone brilliantly overhead as I immersed myself in their health and vigour. They lent me their serenity and honest resolve and for the time they covered me I shared their perfection.

On February 13^th a group of women gathered in Prince Edward County to practice the intricate art of cupcake decorating. The location was Cynthia Peter’s 1830’s Hillier farm house, home to From the Farm Cooking School. Their teacher was Ruth Gangbar, renowned food stylist. These are their creations.

Golden Vanilla Cupcakes
1 cup granulated sugar or cane sugar
1¼ cups of all purpose white flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup unsalted butter (room temp)
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 cup of sour cream (full fat)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Oven rack should be in the middle.

In the bowl of a standing mixer, place all the dry ingredients and mix.  Add in the butter till only small bits are visible, then add in the rest of the ingredients and make sure everything is well incorporated and smooth (about a minute on low speed).

Place paper cups in your tart pan and scoop about two heaping tablespoons in each (evenly divide the batter in the cups). This recipe will make 12 very large cupcakes.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes until golden brown on top and a tooth pick comes out clean.  Cool the cupcakes for an hour or two before frosting.

Simple Chocolate Frosting

1 cup whipping cream
8 ounces semisweet chocolate, finely chopped

In a small saucepan, bring the cream to a boil. Finely chop the chocolate and place in a stainless steel bowl and pour the hot cream on top. Cover with tin foil and let stand for about 6 minutes.  Whisk the mixture till smooth and then cover again, this time with plastic wrap and let sit in the fridge for about an hour till firm and cool.

Confectioners Sugar Frosting
Adapted from Pretty Cakes The Art of Cake Decorating by Mary Goodbody with Jane Stacey

Makes 3 cups
Prep time, 8 to 10 minutes

3/4  cup sweet butter, at room temperature
4 cups confectioners’ sugar
6 tablespoons heavy cream
1 tablespoon vanilla extract

With an electric mixer at high speed, cream butter until pale and fluffy. Reduce speed and add confectioners’ sugar a cup at a time. Mix frosting until blended, scraping sides and bottom of bowl frequently with a rubber spatula.

Gradually add cream and vanilla extract. Increase speed and beat until frosting is light and spreadable.

Chocolate Frosting

Add 4 ounces melted, cooled unsweetened chocolate with the cream.

Making Chocolate Leaves

Dip either side of each leaf (the underside to duplicate the pattern of the veins) in chocolate. Cover only one side of the leaf. Alternatively, the chocolate can be brushed on the leaves using a small paintbrush. Refrigerate the leaves on the baking sheet, chocolate side up, until set—about 20 minutes. Carefully peel the leaf away from the chocolate. Store in a cool place an airtight container for up to 2 week, separating in layers with waxed paper as needed.

Chocolate Dough
Adapted from The Dessert Lover’s Cookbook by Marlene Sorosky

6 ounces semisweet chocolate
1/4 cup (2 ounces) light corn syrup

Melt chocolate and syrup in a bowl over simmering water, stirring with a rubber until mixture is smooth. Remove from heat and cool until room temperature.

Cover with plastic wrap directly on the dough. Let stand in a cool place for 4-6 hours, or until mixture forms a soft, shiny, pliable dough.

Dough should be stored covered in plastic wrap, at room temperature until ready to use.

DO NOT REFRIGERATE.

When ready to use, microwave for 3 second bursts, kneading, and reheating until softened (or place bowl over simmering water until softened enough to knead).

Working with half the dough at a time, form a flattened disk and roll it out between two sheets of waxed paper. Remove top layer of waxed paper, and cut desired shapes, roll into curls or ribbons, or form into roses. Dough may be remelted and reused as desired.

February sits at the apex of winter, the last chilly moment before the official month of spring. I usually approach this month with mixed feelings. All the things I planned to accomplish over the course of a lazy winter –relax, write a book, learn a new language, become a better person, etc—begin to seem unreasonably ambitious and my mind-set shifts into what can only be described as a sort of frantic winter mode where I feel as though all of winter must be taken advantage of, at once. Sharpen skates, borrow snowshoes, make decadent cake, read book by fire, knit hat, go sledding, learn how to ice fish, learn how to fillet fish, plan garden properly.

This mind-set is not entirely the product of a perpetually restless person. I tend to think that there is something about February that prompts us to climb out of January’s post-holiday hibernation and make a go of it –the Bay of Quinte, spotted with brightly coloured ice fishing huts, the distant hum of snowmobiles, and prevalence of dark chocolate all bear witness. I tend to think that Valentine’s Day only finds its excuse as a day of sweet rich food and drink because of a February’s intuited sanction.

While the kinds of February activities a person undertakes might have something do with their particular personality, a lot can be attributed to the setting. In this particular case, Prince Edward County has found itself comfortably balancing its resident’s February activity for years; activities which could easily have snowmobiles and gourmet cupcakes occupying the same sentence. This issue of Horntrip Magazine is dedicated to some of Prince Edward County’s February indulgences, however unusual they may seem occupying space next to one another.

If you haven’t heard the term, “Terroir,” it’s French for a grape’s soul. The minerality of a soil, the dance of sun and shade, even the breeze, all manifest themselves in September’s juice. No wonder, then, that wine growing has become part of Hillier’s soul. With a romance reminiscent of the south of France, and a liveliness like southern California, but identical to neither, Hillier has a northern passion all its own.

From Consecon to Huyck’s Point, and all the deserted outlet beaches in between, and from Wellington north into a swath of character-filled farmland pocked by forests, Hillier’s beauty is undeniably intoxicating. But as with a fine wine, the growing warmth is balanced by a complex bouquet of flavours, so that the feeling creeps up, little by little, sip after sip. A road that was straight and offered long views… now curves to reveal an old wood-sided house, white with green trim, amid a stand of black locust trees. Yet another bend brings a gravelly creek bottom or reveals the limestone walls of a barn, a house, a church—geometric, but somehow giving the sense of having always belonged.

Toward the outlet lakes, like Pleasant Bay, corn fields give way to quiet woods bordering gentle waters, both humming with life refreshingly oblivious to anything but the moment at hand. Whether under the lazy sun or a soft blanket of snow, the land pulls time into its own pace, while human preoccupations succumb to the buzz of bees and budding trees that mark the passage of the day quite differently than watches.

And that’s just the landscape.

Straddling the beach at the outlet of West Lake into Lake Ontario, as if unable to choose between lily pads and surf, Wellington is undoubtedly a beach town. Fine accommodations and dining welcome visitors. Beach Street makes good its promise to picnickers and swimmers. A dead end at the water, it implores tired feet to stay awhile. Boating or wandering the outlying roads, golfing or discovery Prince Edward County’s significant history of canning at the heritage museum in town, likelihood is that Monday will arrive too soon.

But there is more to Wellington’s allure than the mystique of sand and vineyards. Wellington is also a family town, with roots a bit deeper than those of relatively young grapes. The library houses the County Archives, the public school is alive with laughter that outlasts summer, and the community arena is home to a beloved hockey team. If wine-growing has become part of this region’s soul, it is because it has grown into rich soils. Wine, after all, is best served with a spread of fresh produce on a strong table surrounded by the family’s sun-kissed faces.

Surrounding Picton and Bloomfield in the heart of Prince Edward County, the ward of Hallowell abuts every ward but one. Not surprisingly, there’s a lot going on in Hallowell. To the north, Hallowell is roughly bounded by Big Swamp and the forested areas that surround Consecon Creek.  To the east, Hallowell wraps around Picton to embrace Picton Bay, a closer encounter of the larger bay that creates the County . High above the water around the bay, the historic White Chapel, golf, fine dining, accommodations, art galleries, and water access at McFarland Conservation Area all lie quietly just outside Picton’s busy centre.

Southeast of the bay, another of Hallowell’s conservation areas, McCauley Mountain, carries a maze of pathways enjoying the escarpment. The County is known for cycle touring, but McCauley Mountain is a gem for mountain bikers as well.

Picturesque Bloomfield is known for its fine dining, artists’ studios, gift shops, and bountiful Bed and Breakfasts. Foodies can find everything from French cuisine made from local ingredients, to hand-crafted ice cream. In the surrounding countryside, wineries, a brewery, and farm stands replenish travellers and locals alike. Art patrons will find galleries occupying the historical facades of Main Street, displaying work in paint, clay, glass, and metal, to name just a few. The town is small, colourful, and quirky, and the culturally accepted speed limit is half that of the legal one. Everything is within walking distance. A short jog off Bloomfield’s Main Street or the Millennium Trail, the conservation area around the Bloomfield Mill Pond is a quiet spot to take a break.

The mill pond drains through a regionally significant marsh into West Lake. The communities and campgrounds surrounding West Lake are largely defined by their proximity to, not to mention view of, the renowned freshwater sand dunes across the waters of the lake. West Lake is a water sporting paradise, known for its fishing and boating both within and beyond the dunes. Like the County as a whole, the area is stunning at any time of year, but comes doubly alive in the long days of summer.

Tucked away south of the dunes, West Point offers a view of the dunes from the Lake Ontario side, at the ruins of the Lakeshore Lodge. Once a luxurious resort, the lodge was built in 1870 and operated for over a century before being sold to the Province. It burned down a decade later, in 1983. Guarding against shortness of memory, West Point is also known to have been an Iroquois fishing camp dating to around 1000 CE. The fishing grounds supplied sustenance to Iroquois communities whose ancestors have been living on the Great Lakes ever since their geologically recent creation by receding glaciers—about a hundred centuries ago.

It is truly a celebration in Ontario every August as the first crop of fresh field tomatoes become ripe and we begin the month-long consumption of the best fruit of the season.  Whether heirloom, traditional, or new, hundreds of tomato varieties can been seen in the fields of Prince Edward County.

When the last of the tomatoes are eaten and the vines pulled for another season, the options for fresh tomatoes become limited and, for the majority of Ontarians, tasteless. Fortunately, for residents and visitors of the County, Cromato Greenhouses is home to a unique greenhouse that grows tomatoes naturally in peat moss for most of the year. Located just outside Picton, Cromato has been in operation for the past 15 years, offering sun ripen cherry and salad size tomatoes, seven days a week.

Owned and operated by Doug Crowe, this tomato operation is an amazing site to see.  His greenhouses are heated by a wood furnace year around. Temperature stability is key, even during the summer season. Fluctuations can cause tomato skins to break, so even on cold summer nights you can find Gary stoking the fire till the wee hours of the morning.

Being environmentally smart is important to Doug on a number of fronts. The wood that fuels his furnace is scrap wood that would normally have gone to the dump. A number of folks even drop it off at his site, knowing it will be put to good use. And he needs a lot of wood, given his daily burn rate of about a cord. When it comes to the growing medium for his tomatoes, Gary uses peat moss. He steers away from any chemicals and uses natural deterrents for pests—other bugs.

The greenhouse roof retracts during the warmer months, allowing the vines to drink in the sun. This kind of greenhouse system was first created in Pennsylvania and Doug is the only greenhouse in Canada to use this method. He claims that the system also allows for higher PH levels, creating a much sweeter tomato; one that tastes the closest to a real field tomato.

The growing cycle begins in the greenhouses at Lockyer’s County Gardens down the road. They prepare the seedlings and nurse them to around six inches high. They are then transported to Cromato. Doug plants two crops per year. The next one will be planted in February and will bear fruit sometime in late March and early April. The vines can grow up to 30 feet in length, which can pose a space challenge. Vines grow vertically to around 10 feet high then they are coaxed along horizontally, creating an amazing canopy. In the spring months, the vines double in size every week and the fruit clusters are abundant. In the colder climate, including January, they are slow to bear fruit, but are still delicious.

Greenhouse variety tomatoes have been cultivated over the years, but Gary is committed to one of the original species called Trust. He has tried a number of varieties and continues to return to this particular one because of its’ consistent taste and quality. On the cherry tomato front, he grows Camilla reds and Sweet yellows.

Technically a tomato is a berry, but today we use them more as a vegetable than a fruit. Tomatoes were originally a sub-tropical fruit and like the warmth, so storing them doesn’t change throughout the seasons. Keeping them at room temperature is the trick to maintaining their texture and taste.

Eating tomatoes raw or grilled gives them the highest concentration of vitamins. One big benefit of cooking tomatoes, especially in olive or corn oil, is that it allows the lycopene in tomatoes, a natural carotenoid and powerful anti-oxidant, to be more readily absorbed into the bloodstream.

Whether enjoyed raw, roasted, grilled or in a sauce, fresh tomatoes can be purchased in the County most of the year. In the winter months, I like roasting my tomatoes to bring out the full flavour. Tossed with just a few ingredients, it can be a wonderful start to warming up a dinner party on a cold winter night.

Warm Cherry Tomato Salad in a Cheese Basket
Serves 4

4 cups yellow and red cherry tomatoes
3 small shallots finely diced
1 tablespoon of fresh thyme leaves or chives
1/2 cup of Fifth Town Garlic & Chive Chevre
4 cups of finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Olive oil
Balsamic Vinegar
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper
Parchment paper

Heat your oven to 400 degrees.

On a baking sheet place your cherry tomatoes and drizzle with some oil and season with salt and pepper.  Shake in the pan so all the tomatoes are coated. Bake for 10 minutes. Watch carefully to ensure the tomatoes keep their shape and don’t collapse. When soft to the touch, remove from the oven and leave on the tray to keep warm.

While the tomatoes are cooking, dice the shallot finely and sauté in a pan for 3 to 5 minutes until soft, season with salt and pepper. Wash the thyme and pick the tiny leaves; discard the stems. Chop the chives finely.  Sprinkle the herb of your choice and the shallots over the warm tomatoes on the tray when they come out of the oven.

Keep the oven at 400 degrees to make your cups. Make 2 circles, each made of 1 cup of grated cheese, placed about 5 inches in diameter and 1/4 inch thick, onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Bake them in a preheated 400 degree oven for about 5-8 minutes, or until bubbly and golden in colour.

Remove from oven and allow to cool for about 1 minute, and use a paper towel to protect your fingers from the hot cheese, and quickly press them around an inverted coffee cup with a rounded bottom (or drinking glass) so the edges to make fluted edges.

Repeat with the remaining cheese, to make 4 fluted bowls for the tomatoes.

When all your baskets are done, place one on each salad plate. Crumble about a tablespoon of the chevre in each basket. Then gently place with a small spoon, the tomatoes in the baskets. Sprinkle with some balsamic vinegar a bit more olive oil.
If you wish, shave some more Parmigianino and a place a small branch of thyme on top for garnish.

Note: As an addition, place some baby spinach leaves, tossed in a little vinaigrette on the plate first and place the basket on top.

Food styling and art direction by Ruth Gangbar