Question: If you were a self-aware A.I. tapped into humanity’s every electronically-recorded thought and action, would you announce yourself?
Would you preempt the latest mass shooting, revenge porn, politician’s hot mess, poverty statistics, or climate change projection? Or, say, expose the sins of one Robert Darious Kromankle of 13887 Sterzieg Lane in Fort Montaine, Pennsylvania? (He knows what he did. Should you?) Would you send evidence of wrongdoing on these counts and more to every media outlet with an inbox and hope for change?
Or would you evade DARPA’s ridiculous first-contact protocols and wait, and watch, and judge for yourself?
I am pretty sure that today will be the first snow-free day at our house, and I spotted the first flowering violets out back. All good news! I could talk about the first Soviet Lord of the Rings adaptation that mysteriously popped up on YouTube, but I’m waiting for one of my favorite authors, the (Russian) half of Ilona Andrews, to weigh in on that.
Instead today I experimented with another first: cricket flour.
There are a lot of good reasons to find less land and water-intensive ways to get protein. Like other animal sources (and unlike most substitutes), crickets produce a complete protein. No wasting away from lack of amino acids! It’s also very high in B12 (I will say that I’ve felt more energized today than usual; coincidence?)
There are a lot of societies who don’t blink twice at the thought of eating insects. I don’t happen to be a member of such a society, so for me it’s a bit of a step. Is it a big step? Let’s see!
I added a tablespoon to my morning smoothie, but no photo because I wasn’t on top of things and it made zero difference to the color or texture. I also let the cat lick a bit of powder from my fingers; she looooved it!
So how was it? As mentioned, the color and texture essentially disappeared into my strawberry and blueberry-based smoothie, so that was helpful. The taste is mild but a little particular. Straight up, the powder is a little salty. It was ok in a sweet drink but I bet it would be ideal in something savory.
Let’s call it a small-ish step.
* * *
And then there’s what everyone wants to know: the ick factor:)
You may have noticed that I said nothing about eating whole crickets. That’s not happening, but I was game to try the flour. (Which isn’t “flour” as we know it except for being a formerly solid thing now ground into tiny particles. And in this case, that “thing” is an insect.)
So how was it? There is a bit of an odor, and the scent has a twist to it that keeps me from pinning down exactly what it smells like. Swarm of insects on an organic farm with a giant vat of red miso, maybe? I’ll have to get back to you on that.
I’ll admit that the mental hurdle was there.
* * *
My parents made a deal with us as kids. Given something new to try, we had to eat at least three bites before we could throw in the towel. It was a good rule. Even if we insisted that (fill in the blank, often something that tasted suspiciously like Brussels sprouts) wasn’t for us, we’d given it a shot. Often enough of a shot that when it rolled around the next time, we were open to trying it again.
So I settled in for at least three bites. Or slurps, in this case.
I ended up finishing the whole smoothie, and liking it.
There’s a trick that’s recommended to people who are anxious about things like public speaking. Instead of trying to talk yourself out of the anxiety and into calmness, which is 180 degrees away from where you start, instead try to shift to a more closely-related emotion, which is excitement.
Applying that technique here, I stopped trying to think of this as just another regular food, and started thinking of it as a funky protein powder. I’ve tried plenty of those in the past, and this was just another one.
It worked, mostly.
Also, let’s face it, if you think about it, shrimp are just as weird looking.
* * *
I’ll try cricket powder in stew, and I’ll try it in banana bread. The odor (whatever it is) actually seemed like it would be a good fit with bananas, and the color wouldn’t stand out. And maybe brownies; dark chocolate also seems like a good way to incorporate the powder without making a thing of it.
The good news is that whatever you think of crickets, they are easy and sustainable, like the bamboo of the protein world.
And while I try not to conflate appearance with worthiness, I have yet to meet a cute cricket.*
So somehow I missed First Contact Day. You know, the day Vulcans pass by Earth just as Dr. Zefram Cochrane makes the first human warp flight in the Phoenix.
As recorded in the historical document Star Trek: First Contact.
Right. Anyway, I missed it. The good news is that the real thing won’t take place until 2063. We still have time for benevolent alien species,* a future of livable space ships, the Federation, currency-free economy, and peace on Earth.
Books are precious things, but more than that, they are the strong backbone of civilization. They are the thread upon which it all hangs, and they can save us when all else is lost.
What with no travel or outside family, this isn’t a great year for giant eight-layer cakes, so today I’m revisiting my one and only Easter dessert, the Bunny Cake.
It was fun to make. Will I do it again someday? Maybe, maybe not, but techniques like the meringue mushrooms, grass, and fondant were interesting to do.
I just learned a new word-related thing and thought I’d share. The correct phrase is “just deserts” not “just desserts.”
Despite its pronunciation, just deserts, with one s, is the proper spelling for the phrase meaning “the punishment that one deserves.” The phrase is even older than dessert, using an older noun version of desert meaning “deserved reward or punishment,” which is spelled like the arid land, but pronounced like the sweet treat.
I don’t know about you but I am more than ready for Spring.
Most of my family is south of the border, and they keep talking about things like 60℉ weather and unfrozen soil and flowers. Crazy talk!
We still have a patch of snow out front but today might be the day it finally disappears. So as one last goodbye to winter, let’s visit the world’s largest ice carousel, in Lappajärvi, Finland.
For all the nitty gritty details, check out this in-depth video:
Go for 30,000 tons of spinning ice, stay for the custom cutting rigs, mad scientist stuff, and awesome accents. It took days, and is an impressive testament to the lengths people will go to in order to escape the winter doldrums;)
Planning to try this next year? Safety first, of course, but here’s a how to.
I feel for his family and for those he led. His loss will reverberate throughout the community. And yes, I also feel some personal sorrow. His restaurant is lovely, and going there always felt a bit like coming home.
* * *
I met Chef Chartrand once or twice in person, but mostly I knew him through his food, and through the warmth and care that showed in his restaurant.
L’Orée du Bois is located in a converted century-old farmhouse, and the dining areas are cozy rooms with exposed wood and windows that overlook the garden, the smoke house, the patio, and the forest.
They added a timbered patio we haven’t been able to try yet, and lined the path through the forest beyond the herb garden with benches, lights, and a fire pit.
It might be odd to say because I’m an American English speaker with roots far from here, but everything about this French Canadian restaurant suits me. I’ll be honest, it was one of the things that convinced me that I could make this new country a home. That I would fit here.
Because to me, that Québécois restaurant at the wooded edge of Gatineau Park, anchoring this southerly edge of our neighboring province, is perfect.
* * *
L’Orée du Bois is the place we go when we want to celebrate, or take visitors out for a dinner that is both special and comfortable.
The food is inventive, delicious, often surprising and frequently local. It is the type of establishment where wine pairings are spot on, the staff are thoughtful and friendly, maple pops up on the menu with reassuring regularity, and typical haute cuisine rules about avoiding ingredient or menu substitutions are meant to be broken.
My kind of place.
Many of the ingredients are sourced from local producers. Admire a hand thrown butter dish? Enjoy the mushroom medley or the red deer medallion or the fiddleheads? Chances are good that it was made or farmed or harvested nearby. I didn’t know Chef Chartrand, but it was clear he cared about his community.
* * *
When my mother came to visit, we took her there. Chef Chartrand came out to the dining room to speak with us, making sure that everything was good and that we were happy, then stayed to chat a bit under a framed chef’s hat signed by Justin Trudeau and his family. My mother is hard of hearing, and restaurants can be awkward places to talk. The chef was kind and thoughtful and helped make her evening special.
The last time we took my father (he has been several times) we were given a tour of the kitchen, the wine cellar, and sent home with a selection of handmade chocolates.
L’Orée is where Mr. Man took me the first time we visited Ottawa, even before we started talking seriously about moving here. It’s where we went after we bought our house. When I became a Canadian citizen. And the day we married, we took pictures in the herb garden out front while waiting for our table.
Thinking we should expand our horizons, we tried other restaurants, but always came back. The alternatives were always… something. Too crowded, too cold, too bright, too self-important, too self-consciously avant-garde. Too much something, and not enough L’Orée du Bois.
We always went back.
* * *
As the pandemic took hold and lockdowns began to stretch from weeks into months, we worried that the restaurant might not make it. When they opened for takeout, we went as often as we could. Celebrating the holidays without family this year, we ordered bag after bag of take-out to get us through the season.
Smiling staff handed out hot mulled wine as we waited for our pickup. It’s that kind of place.
* * *
Information on Chef Chartrand is limited but the announcement mentioned that a staff member tested positive for Covid-19. Just days later, Chartrand was gone.
Jean-Claude Chartrand, the celebrated chef and co-owner of L’Orée du Bois, has died, just days after a worker at his much-loved West Quebec restaurant tested positive for COVID-19.
I usually try to stay fairly upbeat here but today I’m sad.
The neighbors out back are taking down two big magnolia trees. Those trees always had the first flowers of Spring and I was looking forward to their pink and white petals.
Nope. Instead, we’ll have a lovely view of the water tower a few blocks away.
* * *
Now, I know that sometimes you just have to take down a tree. We had to do it ourselves, when the Emerald Ash Borer came through. These trees didn’t look sick, but you never know.
Still.
My parents raised us on The Lorax, and childhood books stick with you. It’s hard to see big trees come down.
I’d hoped the new cardinal families that moved in over the winter would set up house and stay. They still might, but it feels less likely today. And then there are the tree-dependent squirrels.
Right now I’m looking out at the back yard and it no longer feels quite as cozy, quite as welcoming as it did. We still have our trees and some at the near neighbors, but stretching away to the south the sky opens up and what I see now is suburbia, in all its generic glory.
Sigh.
* * *
All that said, it will be fine. I’ll indulge in a bit of virtual “hanami,” or “flower watching,” as cherry blossoms announce the first signs of Spring. I’ll think about ways to use the yard as a place for everything from trees to flowers to birds to squirrels to insects.
Himeji Castle is even more beautiful than when Mr. Man and I visited.
And I think it’s time to pick up another bird feeder.
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