Bright blue sky, new
beginnings, and also the lovely regretted end of a pleasurable interlude:
that’s how things look today.
Yesterday my younger kid Tashi
graduated from the University of Toronto. His college, Victoria, had its
Convocation in the afternoon, preceded by lunch sandwiches and things in the
quad, a walk away across Queen’s Park. Four years ago Tashi and I and Fatema
were there for Dom’s grad. Now it was Tashi’s turn to be gowned and standing
tall, while Dom, Fatema and I looked on.
At Convocation the Dean of
Arts and Science told us that about half the graduates had reported, as they
enrolled for the first time four or five years earlier, that they would be the
first in their family to get a university degree. We knew some of the other graduates too, and cheered and clapped for them as well as for Tashi. For all of us in Convocation Hall there was a lot to
appreciate and applaud, as two by two the grads walked up steps to the stage to
shake hands with dignitaries and receive their congratulations and good wishes
for whatever they might do next.
And in the evening, as had
happened four years ago, our dear friend Dina took us all out to supper, this
time to an odd and comfortable place called Strada 241 on Spadina south of
Dundas, for Italian eats.
But in between I had my
last Foods that Changed the World class to teach at the university. So back I
walked across the grassed expanse of
King’s College Circle, that two hours earlier had been peopled with
black-gowned grads, colourfully dressed parents and friends, and the splashy
medieval gowns of the senior professors, University President, et al. There
were a couple of group frisbee sessions happening in the late afternoon light,
all intentness and fluidity, and no hint of the formalities and solemnities of
Convocation.
The classroom our
continuing ed course was assigned to was in University College, an old grand
building with nineteenth century tiling on the main floor and carved griffons
of dark wood as newel posts at the foot of the stairs. I noticed afresh the age
and imposingness of the building as I tried to imagine seeing it through the
eyes of new students or of parents who had come from afar to watch the
graduation and had no familiarity with the University of Toronto. These old institutions can be
intimidating. And that can keep people away, which is not what we want for our
society and community.
But I think it’s good that
the ceremonies around Convocation are solemn and grand (with organ music
ushering the graduates in, welcomes in Latin, etc). It is a big event, to
graduate from university. A Bachelor’s degree is four years of your life or
more, and often marks enormous changes in thinking and maturity. So it’s only
right and fair that this passage through a significant portal be trumpeted and
acknowledged. Hurrah to all!!
And now I’m getting to the
regret. I have had such an engaging interesting time with this class over the
last six weeks that I am sad to have the course over. This week I talked about
coffee and then intoxicants: wine, beer, liquors, with the class. Then it was
time to taste the various treats that people had brought. We agreed we’d all
miss the class, that we wanted to continue our conversations and explorations.
And so we discussed what a “second level” course could consist of. There was a lot of enthusiasm for the idea. Now
it’s up to me to figure out whether the School for Continuing Studies might be
interested in a second food history course, and also when in the year I might
be able to commit to being here for six or seven weeks running. Hmm
The treats I brought to our tasting were
very simple. I promised the class I’d post a shorthand version of the what and
how, so here it is:
sticky rice: white
Thai-grown sticky rice mixed with a little black sticky rice to colour it and
give it texture: soak together in cold water for 6 hours or as long as 18
hours, then place rice in a steamer over boiling water and steam until tender,
about half an hour; turn out and cover with a damp cloth to prevent it from
drying out. Eat with the hands.
“salsa,” called nam prik in
Thai: an improvised version that riffed off the northern Thai nam prik num.
Ingredients: whole garlic cloves, about 8; about 5 unpeeled shallots or instead
substitute red onion cut into two halves if you have to; chiles, several fresh whole
banana chiles or three or more dried red ones if you lack fresh (I had only one
fresh, so used a combo); about a pound or more large cherry tomatoes or romas
or whatever you have. All the ingredients except dried red chiles need to be
grilled, or else dry scorched in a heavy cast-iron pan over medium high heat.
Turn them frequently to scorch all sides (I use a separate pan for the tomatoes).
Turn out shallots and garlic etc when well softened and let cool a little, then
lift peels off and discard, along with any tough bits. Destem the fresh chiles.
Then coarsely chop everything before food-processoring
it or pounding it in a mortar. You want a coarse texture, not a puree. Add the
tomatoes last. Season with salt, or a mixture of salt with a dash of fish
sauce. I also included about a tablespoon of very coarsely ground black pepper.
Others brought delish
homemade sweets: salted (Camargue salt) caramels; and raw cacao powder truffles
with pureed goji berries, flax seed, coconut oil etc. There was also an
offering of an interesting dark green and red new-to-me kind of tomato, komato, served with Guerande salt and
slices of baguette. And I have left out a few things, I know…which others will
remember.
I’m pleased that these
endings – graduation, last class of the course, etc – lead us to think forward to
what we want to do next. Life moves on, and so do our ideas and aspirations.
It’s good to be pushed and stretched by the reminder that life is constantly changing. Challenges and difficulties and joys all lie just
around the next corner.
1 comment:
Dear Naomi, I hope there's a way we can do another course, or something like that. again. XO
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