Gardening: Waiting for a piece of Eden in my city


When I lived in Leslieville (circa 2006), I was wandering home from the Leslie Spit one day when I discovered this random area filled with garden plots. There was a gated entrance, padlocked, with a sign reading “Private Property.” They were official city Allotment Gardens, but I didn’t really understand at that time what an allotment garden was.

Then things happened yada yada yada, and I forgot about the cute gardens on Leslie Street.

That was until last April when my friend ME reminded me about them. He had one before, but in B-F-N-W, and was hoping to secure a new one. By this time of the year, however, the only plots still available were at Keele & Finch and on some magical street called Stoffel that I’d never heard of. ME said not to even bother– if you have to haul-ass out to B-F-N-W just to prune some tomato plants, chances are you won’t. Especially when your preferred state is sloth, such is the nature of the ‘bo.

Random Googling led to this article on Torontoist.com featuring the Leslie Street Allotment Gardens, and inspired me to cast aside slothiness in pursuit of more conveniently-located plots for 2011.

HOWEVER, the City of Toronto clearly did not want me to find these plots.

This is because, in my opinion, they can’t handle the pressure. They don’t have the land and plots sufficient enough to sustain the HUNDREDS of people who put their names on waiting lists every year because they have gone out of their way to figure out what the hell is going on with the Allotment Gardens. You really have to want it. Because the information is NOT THERE.

This is what the City’s website has to say:

Allotment gardens are available to individuals to plant vegetables or flowers. Plots are available at various locations across the City. To request a garden plot, be placed on a waiting list, or get further information on rates and availability, call 416-392-8188 and press 8, or visit your local permit office.

That’s it.

You have to basically find personal blogs or interest groups, such as Friends of Dufferin Grove Park, to learn more.

From my research, these are (some of) the available Allotment Gardens in Toronto:

Leslie Spit
High Park
Old Weston Road & St. Clair Avenue
Martin Grove & Rathburn
Jane Street & St. Clair Avenue
Hwy 27 & Dixon Road (the magical Stoffel Drive!)
Brimorton & Markham Road
Lawrence & Kennedy
Keele & Finch

I think there’s a couple more. This site has a more thorough list, but I’m not sure if it’s complete either. Since there’s no official City of Toronto list of their own Allotment Garden locations!!

In fact, some of these locations do not even come up on Google Maps!

I know this firsthand because I just spent two FREEZING hours tonight wandering around Jane & St. Clair (or, more accurately, wandering through many a side-street from Scarlett Road to Runnymede, north of St. Clair) looking for the elusive York Gardens– the Allotment Garden I just placed myself on a waiting list for.

Because another lovely twist to this Quest for Eden is that you first have to get yourself on a waiting list. Because all the plots are full. And every year the current renters renew with the City, and if any plots are not renewed, the City only then turns to the waiting list to fill empty spots.

This is what you have to do to get an Allotment Garden in Toronto:

1. Research the available locations, and find the one closest to where you live, or where you want to spend your time tending to your crops.

2. Find the exact address of the garden, and go there to see what it’s like. (They are all different; the plots in High Park are really close together, whereas the plots on Leslie Street are nicely divided.)

3. On February 1st, call the Permit Office at 416-392-8188 (press 8, then press 1) repeatedly from 8:30am when they open until you get through. Curse and swear at the busy signal you will undoubtedly hear. But keep trying. I called 33 times in 12 mintes before I got through. Then wait on hold for about the same amount of time. (You won’t mind being on hold after listening to that stupid busy signal over and over again.)

4. Cheer when the City worker picks up! Yay!

5. Specify which Allotment Garden you are interested in. Give your name and phone number. Give it again when the City worker says “Yah, I didn’t get any of that.”

6. Wait until April to find out if you actually get a plot. The City will call you either way (or so they say).

7. In the meantime, daydream about your new Gentleman Farmer status, and take out many a gardening book from your local library.

8. If your April phonecall is a Yay, not a Nay, pay for your plot. It will cost $53.50 plus HST. You have to pay again every year.

9. Take out more gardening books. Subscribe to Gardening Life magazine.

10. On May 1st you will gain access to your plot.

11. Hopefully you will have already bought cute gardening boots like these, and visited the Dollarama for some complimentary gloves. You probably should have bought your gardening tools at a proper garden centre.

12. Make sure you find out what foods to plant during which months, and also when to reap what you sow. Your plot access will end on October 15th.

13. Oh, and don’t forget to read plenty of Coco Hobo Recipes for inspiration on how to prepare your harvest! ;o)

I hope this post helps you find your own piece of Eden in the city. Coco Hobo: The Blog will be featuring a new section on Gardening that will showcase my experiences and ME’s too (if we are lucky enough to secure plots come April!).

Until then, I will be taking advantage of the Groupon I purchased in January for two harvest boxes of Fruits & Veg delivered to my door by Green Earth Organics. As you know, I usually get my f&v from Front Door Organics, but as the discount diva that I am, I couldn’t pass up that Groupon deal. (I am also addicted to Groupon and have decided to let it determine the course of my social life from now on.)

Also, when I get back from New York City next week (more on that to come as Coco gets around!), I am looking forward to making roasted carrots with honey, cumin and cinnamon– an idea that came to me the other day when I was snacking on some hummus. I will share the recipe with you, of course, when I get around to preparing it… or maybe I will make a tagine… oh but I’ll need to purchase one first… hmm.

From one of my favourite films, the grossly under-appreciated Reuben, Reuben:

“The problem with you is, you combine pure genius with overwhelming sloth.”

Damn sloth. Maybe that’s why there’s no official City of Toronto Allotment Garden website. Sigh.

In solidarity,

Your friendly neighbourhood (gardening) ‘bo
x

Wine: 2008 Flying Kiwi South Island Pinot Noir


Last night I discovered my new favourite Pinot Noir. Obviously I assumed I would love it based on the ADORABLE label, and the fact that I went to a wines of New Zealand tasting in Balham, U.K. (borough of London) as a b-day prezzie from my friend SP in 2009 and was the only person who actually appreciated the delicate NZ Pinots. Probably because they tasted like Pinots from Prince Edward County to me, and because Brits aren’t really into Pinots. On the whole, Brits aren’t really into wines: if it’s not “cheap plonk” as they say, they don’t see the point in wasting money on it. Unfortunately now that I am *ahem* somewhat out of my twenties, I am no longer interested in the alcohol content of beverages over the taste and delicacy of experience. And so, when M&M invited me over last night for dinner in Oakville, I knew exactly what bottle I’d be bringing – regardless of the meal (Pinot Noir is très versatile).

Luckily the M’s are also très accommodating to, um, how would you say… my difficile eating habits. They were making bison burgers. Yay!

I had spotted Flying Kiwi South Island Pinot Noir (2008) in the Bloor West Village LCBO the other day, but due to its $15.95 price tag, I ended up selecting my standard table wine, Obikwe, so that I could also get a six-pack of Coors Light and stay around the $20 total purchase mark. Nothing but class in my home! ;o) Being invited over to M&M’s for dinner gave me the perfect excuse to “splurge” a little. (The Coco in me asures good taste, but the Hobo tightens the reigns.)


So, after a civilised GO train ride out of the city, alongwhich I read the paper and devoured a poppyseed bagel with cream cheese and lox (oh and a Darjeeling of course), I arrived in snow-covered Oakville with wine in hand. M was taken aback at first when I proceeded to immediately place the Pinot in the fridge. “You drink your Pinot Noir chilled?” she asked. Bien sûr. “But of course,” I replied. I would MUCH rather have an over-chilled than under-chilled red. EVERY TIME. No matter what the red. I can’t stand drinking lukewarm wine. Especially medium-bodied reds, a category to which I label “Picnic Reds.” I keep my wine cabinet set to 11-12 degrees. The wine will warm up as you drink it, which also allows for a development of flavour unfolding throughout its consumption.


At first pour the wine almost appeared translucent or watered down, but held to the light its colour was so cheery and bright. Comme un cerise glacé. Its body was on the softer end of medium, with intense berry flavour and bouquet. I know you should never judge a book by its cover (nor a wine by its label), but since I chose this red mainly for its CUTENESS, I have to say its taste lived up to the label. We enjoyed it alongside an appetizer of soft goat’s cheese and cranberry-hazelnut Rainforest Crisps. The crackers matched perfectly with the wine, but I would suggest a different cheese next time. Maybe a brie? Or maybe even something bleu. I feel like the goat’s cheese (which is my favourite of the cheese trifecta: cow-sheep-goat) was just a bit too… I have to say goaty because I don’t know how else to explain it. Maybe a goat milk gouda would be okay? Will have to explore because I am definitely drinking this Pinot again.

Here’s what they say about the wine on Flying Kiwi’s website:

Analysis at Bottling: Alcohol 12.5% Titratable Acidity 6.7g/L pH 3.47 Residual Sugar 3.2g/L

Tasting Notes: This classic pinot noir is ruby red in colour with violet hues. Rich raspberry and redcurrant aromas combine with ripe plum, cloves and oak characters on the palate. Soft tannins and balanced acidity combine to produce this elegant wine. A wine to be enjoyed now and that will develop with extended cellaring. An ideal match with roast poultry, wild game or New Zealand lamb.

Flying Kiwi was founded in 1978 (the best year EVER) by the Mundy family in New Zealand’s Canterbury Plains. The plains provide appropriate terroir for producing excellent grapes, and the Mundys have been acknowledged as pioneers in establishing premium Pinot Noirs in NZ. Their estate exports 97% of their wines, and luckily Canada is now on their list!

If you are looking for a nice light wine that will appease both the red and white drinkers in your crowd, Coco Hobo recommends giving Flying Kiwi South Island Pinot Noir a go. The vineyard also produces Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay. If Kim Crawford has taught us nothing else, it’s that you can trust NZ Sauv Blancs, so I will most likely give that one a try if I can find a supplier, as the LCBO is only carrying the Pinot Noir (for now?).

Oh, and every bottle of wine you purchase contributes to the “Save the Kiwi Fund.”


TOO CUTE!

A votre santé,

x

Poem: ‘On Writing, On Moments’


the more I write
the more is lost

in these white spaces

a shift from this sky
to my pen
and energy is funnelled here
stolen from the moment

recorded images capture holograms
of the real thing
and the only way to hold
onto something is
to never reach

anything can be touched
without being felt
besides perhaps
that delicate skip
from heart

to ink

~ c.p.grisold

TGIM: What gets me through the week


Tonight is The Bachelor night. This is amazing because not only did I remember that it is coming on, but I remembered that today is Monday! (I usually forget, and that’s why I miss it. When you work freelance, there’s really no such thing as a “weekday” and a “weekend.”) Luckily I will not be swayed to instead watch W Network’s Come Dine With Me marathon because they no longer air the original U.K. version. THIS IS NOT GOOD. The Canadian version SUCKS and the British version is HILARIOUS. Or at least Dave Lamb is.

ANYWAY, the show’s starting and I need to pay attention to the cat fights– I mean, the totally realistic drama.

In preparation of the good watchin’s, I forced myself to brave the elements (snow storm) and hoofed it to the corner grocer for some snackiepoos. Was feeling all mopey so decided to spoil self and get Hagen Daazs, cola beverage, and Doritos. AND THEN I SAW IT.

CHERRY COKE IS BACK IN CANADA!!!


This is the best news EVER because Cherry Coke has been my fav cola beverage since I was a kid and the fact that they (the Coca-Cola Beverage Company) keep teasing me with selling it in Canada and then taking it away – well, that is just CRUEL.

My first memory of drinking Cherry Coke was pre- age 5. I’m sure that sounds like horrid parenting on the ‘rents part, but back in the late ’70s, early ’80s it was quite normal. My parents love telling the story of how, asleep in the back of their car on the way home from a certain Miniature Village, one of them cracked open a can of pop – at the sound of which I immediately woke straight up demanding WHERE’S MY POP!? I was maybe two years old. Early bloomer. Clearly. Or the time I was one-and-a-half and would order my own McDonald’s (hamburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake). I’m sure you’re suprised that such a healthy eater as moi was once a Happy Meal consumer, but ’tis true. Also obviously a genius. I like to say I peaked at age six. Ha.

Okay, I am totally not paying attention to The Bachelor right now. Stupid memory lane!

Here’s the bad-for-me snacks that I will now devour alongside the cheese that Citytv generously provides for the next two hours.


Mmm… cheese.

Toods,

x

ps. If I was in a Bachelor Fantasy Pool, I would pick the blonde whose hubby died in the plane crash to make it to the final two, but I don’t think he will pick her. They never pick the good match. He’ll probably propose to the funeral director or the chick with the underbite. LAME.