Vanilla nice, nice, baby (Day 364)…

February 27, 2008

fair-trade vanilla

Everyone always talks about fair-trade chocolate, but why not vanilla? It’s just as important. In fact, as an ingredient, it’s probably used in more products than chocolate — nearly every pastry, baked good, dessert item, jam and so on includes either vanilla beans or vanilla extract.

Ben & Jerry’s launched their fair-trade vanilla ice cream in 2006, complete with online photo albums of their growing operations in India, Paraguay and Ecuador (on a side note, B&J are also working on a prototype for thermoacoustic fridges powered by sound waves, their employees offset all air travel, their climate “hoofprint” is climate neutral, they use free-range eggs, their brownies come from a kitchen that teaches cooking to the homeless and they’re currently looking at converting their ice cream waste into energy with a bio-gas digester … could Vermont get any crunchier?).

Anyway, I got the Frontier brand vanilla flavour but there are other varieties out there, and you can read a bit more about all the fair-trade certification requirements here. Either way, I’ll be making sure all my vanilla from now on is from as ethical a source as possible.

Of course, some forms of vanilla are just never ethical.

Image licked from this website


Green Recap: August

August 31, 2007

I can’t believe I finally get to say these six beautiful words: I’m halfway through my green challenge.

At this point, part of me is thrilled about counting down to when I’ll be able to take a ride on my sister’s motorcycle, drink a cold beer, get a hot shower and blow-dry my hair. But another part of me knows that, in fact, this is a lifelong challenge. Most of the changes I’ve made so far are ones I plan on keeping up, even if they do require some effort.

I won’t be buying a car anytime soon, for example, nor will I be switching back to chemical-based cleaners or beauty products, and there isn’t any reason to fish the water bottle out from my toilet tank. I hope to continue eating organic dairy, free-range eggs and as vegetarian a diet as possible — although I may turn my oven back on to bake a few sustainable pies.

In terms of what August has meant to me, I’d have to say it’s been all about learning. The cycling trip I took through the valleys of Oregon taught me volumes about permaculture, off-the-grid living and the indisputable importance of eating local and organic food — I even managed to get over my aversion to vegans and their weird victual obsessions like quinoa and nutritional yeast.

I also learned, when I was trying to break a $20 bill for some change the other day, that there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, at the 7-11 that I can eat, use or consume in any way. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of flashy brand names that, in exchange for my hard-earned money, offered only MSG wrapped in styrofoam.

I learned that eggs can last unrefrigerated for up to three weeks, that there’s an organic ice cream store around the corner from me, that dryer lint can go in the compost bin, that Pedestrian Sundays in Kensington Market continue into the fall, and that you can do pretty much anything with some vinegar, baking soda and a jar of coconut oil.

So with that, let’s green on! I hope you all stick around and remind me that this isn’t just about an individual journey, it’s a collective effort — and it’s getting stronger every day.


Hopelessly fridgeless (Day 78)…

May 17, 2007

fridge

OK, listen up Little Blog in the Big Woods: I did it. I unplugged my fridge. Not just the freezer, the entire fridge. NO FRIDGE. Do I get green-freak status yet or what? (No offense, I mean, living off-the-grid is cool and all, but when you’re in the city, the grid is like a wealthy, temperamental uncle you somewhat resent yet hopelessly depend on for cold beer)

As you faithful readers know, this blog is all about baby steps. But the thing is, when I turned off my freezer, my fridge started getting warmer too, despite the fact that there are two separate dials. GreenYogini warned of this in her comment, but by then it was too late. I tried to figure out a system of occasionally switching the whole unit on for an hour, then leaving it off for the rest of the day, but it was getting far too complicated. In the end, I knew the only true green choice was to follow Greenpa and No Impact Man, and just unplug the whole darn thing.

I made sure to finish all my vegetables and dairy products first, then gradually started moving stuff to the pantry. Finally, I switched it off for good, leaving nothing other than my stale box of baking soda in there. On the one hand, it’s been interesting learning about all the things that didn’t really need to be refrigerated — at least for very long — in the first place (margarine, jams, potatoes, ketchup, mustard and most other condiments, apples, almond butter, blueberries, etc). But on the other hand, it’s been sad opening my cupboards to find yellow, wilted kale that was only a day old or some carrots that had gone bendy after less than 12 hours.

It also means no yogurt or soy milk, unless I consume it all within a day or keep it on my balcony while the weather is still relatively cool. As well, I now have to drink my water and beer at room temperature — to be honest, this hasn’t really bothered me yet, however I’m definitely not investing in any white wine or bubbly unless I buy it from the LCBO’s refrigerated section and drink the entire bottle right away (which could very well happen).

This is hardly a change I expect others to make, however if you’re like me — that is, if you live in a city, have some time to spare each day for a walk to the corner store, have only yourself (and your kitty) to feed, and are almost a little too concerned about the environment but still more or less in control of your mental faculties — it’s worth trying the no-fridge lifestyle.

Who knows, maybe it’ll become yet another movement. I might have to start labelling myself a flexitarian, locavorian, organic-only, fair-trade, fridgeless slow-foodie. Are there any restaurants catering to this?


A Nalgenius solution (Day 6)…

March 6, 2007

Nalgene

Now, I know there’s been all this talk about certain polycarbonate plastic water bottles leaking estrogen-esque hormones and serving as breeding grounds for nasty bacteria, and yes, stainless steel and glass containers are probably better, but for whatever reason, I’ve always had a soft spot for Nalgene.

Maybe it’s because I fancy myself an outdoorsy type at heart, and have fond summer memories of whipping my hair into perfectly symmetrical braids, paddling a dilapidated canoe out on Big Hawk Lake and working on my Teva tan as I sipped from a classic 16 oz Loop Top. Or maybe it’s because when I was a lifeguard, my co-worker — who I had a bit of a girl-crush on — insisted that Nalgene was the be all and end all of water bottles (whatever that means).

Either way, in terms of being eco-friendly, it’s better to tote around one of these all day instead of buying those flimsy wee bottles of spring water at the local convenience store and then tossing them out. Not only does it save waste, it also lowers the demand for water that’s shipped via polluting air and truck all the way to Canada from the Alps.

Taste-wise, Toronto’s finest isn’t always so palatable, but I find that a Brita filter, or even just a stint in the refrigerator, does the trick. So from now on, I’m not buying any bottled water — I’m bottling my own. At restaurants, I’m asking for tap. And for those who want to follow suit but are already having nightmares about whacked-out hormonal rages and polycarbonate babies, try Nalgene’s HDPE bottle (or any stainless steel thermos).


Cold feet, warm heart (Day 2)…

March 2, 2007

Heating Pad

At least that’s what my mum always told me, and what her mum told her. But the consolation of having a warm heart — especially when it’s figurative — doesn’t count for much when you’re trying to fall asleep and be all cozy-like while your feet are practically refridgerating the entire bed.

Until now, I’ve solved this problem with an electric heating pad, which I set on ‘medium’ and tuck under the sheets near the bottom of my bed, then I just plonk my feet on top (admittedly, now that I write it out loud, this sounds elaborately stupid).

Of course, doing this sucks up at least eight hours of electricity — not to mention breaks numerous fire codes in my building — so I’m pulling the plug, recklessly strangling the heating pad (see above) and throwing it into storage without even saying goodbye.

My back-up plan: pour bags upon bags of kitty treats between my feet, and hope my cold-hearted cat keeps me warm.