Feasting On Toronto’s Food History, One Bite At A Time

The Edible City: Toronto's Food from Farm to Fork
edited by Christina Palassio and Alana Wilcox
Coach House Books
November 2009, 312 pages, $24.95

My initial interaction with The Edible City was (unfortunately) a little less than positive.

Like many Toronto food lovers who keep abreast of the local scene, I bought The Edible City as soon as it came out. I then promptly filed it away until Sheryl alluded that she would like one of us to review it. So off the shelf it came, as I sharpened both a pencil and my critical eye.

Skimming the table of contents, the first thing I noticed was the book’s division of sections named after the courses of an Italian meal (i.e. Antipasto, Primo, Secondo, Contorno and Dolce). Even after finishing the book I couldn’t discern any common thread tying the contents of each “chapter” together (other than food, generally speaking), though that might just be a stylistic curiosity. The list of contributors is eclectic and impressive, going well beyond those who specialize in food to include a fair number of names that you may never have heard of before.

As I began reading the first few essays, I became mildly annoyed by the odd blank pages interspersed within each essay. Flipping through the rest of the Antipasto section, I discovered the pattern repeated itself throughout the chapter. Sadly, the time and frustration expended trying to exchange my defective copy at a well-known bookstore very nearly coloured my opinion of the book before I’d even had a chance to read it.

By the time I’d remedied the situation, there were mere days left between me and the deadline looming over my head. With no time to waste and 300+ pages to devour, I dove in, hungrily finding much to savour. Part historical recollection, part rallying cry and part love letter to all things gustatory in our fair city, this compilation has an angle for every taste and tolerance.

A sampling of the more bizarre pieces include Darren O’Donnell’s “Eat, Meet and other tactics to chew my way to Sesame Street” which in a roundabout way explains the genesis of his Eat The Street project. Then there’s Kathryn Borel Jr.’s slightly risque “The Chicken and the egg,” a recounting of sexual exploits woven together to form the context of a discussion about trussing a chicken. Or RM Vaughan’s “I, Rat,” which provides a humorous account of nourishing oneself in Hogtown, as seen through the eyes of a rodent.

The Edible City is more than just a collection of outre essays and sordid tales, though. History buffs will find plenty to love in Sarah B. Hood’s opener of “Pickerel, pork and President’s Choice” as it sets the stage for the development of our agricultural industry. Mark Fram picks up the thread with “Greenhouse Toronto, once upon a time,” which speaks of a bygone era of market gardening, while Chris Hardwicke lobs one home in “Reviving St. Andrews Market,” his call to arms for an improved public works space contrasted brilliantly by lush descriptions of the bustling market’s heyday.

Policy nerds can get their fill, too, with articles by dietitians Ilona Burkot, Laura Burr and Jane Lac pinpointing the actual cost of nutrition in “Putting a price tag on healthy eating in Toronto,” thus proving it’s more expensive than you think. Chris Ramsaroop and Katie Wolk fuel a healthy debate around migrant workers’ rights in the agricultural industry (“Can we achieve racial equality in the food security movement?”), and Wayne Roberts brings the house down with his optimistic vision of food policy in our city in “How Toronto found its food groove”.

The sentimentality factor runs high too, as a trio of authors tug at our heartstrings by weaving tales of family traditions ensconced in food. From John Lorinc’s Hungarian history (“Walking towards the schnitzel”) to Rea McNamara’s quest for the roti of her memories (“Never see come see”), and Amanda Miller’s ode to ‘granny skills’ (“Not your grandmother’s pantry”) these stories underline that the commonalities connecting us are our culinary staples.

After immersing myself in this book, The Edible City left me well informed about the evolution of our food industry. For instance, did you know that Toronto has it’s very own cocktail containing a bitter called Fernet Branca? That and other tasty tidbits are yours to discover should you choose to pick up this book.

It’s possible that you won’t love it in its entirety, but like a smorgasbord or all-you-can-eat buffet, there’s always a little something worth sinking your teeth into betwixt these glossy covers.

Buy this book on Amazon.ca

Porsha Perreault is a freelance writer, voracious eater, amateur charcutier, and chocolate enthusiast living in Little Italy. She’ll be taking a sabbatical from writing, but will still be occasionally blogging about her obsession with food at Foodie and the Everyman.

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