FOOD DREAMS: FINDING OUR MUSES

A Muse Bouche | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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Happy summer days to you all! We have previously written on pressing issues such as the impact of COVID-19 on food and racism in the food industry. We are putting our other ideas on the back burner for now but we’ll get back to the meat of things in our next articles. In light of the sweltering humid heat of Toronto, we have decided to cool things down and take a more introspective approach to this month’s writing. We thought this would be an opportune time to reflect on our food journeys and dreams through a light conversation with each other.

Mother of All Foodie Muses, Julia Child, photographed in her own kitchen. 
This kitchen was reconstructed within the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History.

Source. 

Dominica: Lindsay, you are one of my favourite people to geek out about food! We’ve picked A Muse Bouche, so clearly, you have a special affinity for food in museums. What do you find so special about it?

Lindsay: Food is universally necessary for survival and intertwined into all aspects of life; through its research we can learn more about what it means to be human. The examination of tangible foodways can help uncover intangible concepts, whether they be reflections on society, culture, economics, and/or politics. Personally, I’m interested in people from past civilizations through the study of “edible archaeology”. What eats at you to study food and museums?

Dominica: Yes I think we both love food for its ability to provide insight on so many facets and intersections of human relationships, ideas, and activities. I'm interested in the broader modes of learning that multi-sensory experiences can provide, and intrigued by food as a medium for immersive learning. Most of my experiences with food studies in academia were purely theory-based, and while I thoroughly enjoyed that, my knowledge was enriched through cooking and baking in the historic kitchens of museums. I’d love for food to breach the walls of historic kitchens and infiltrate the larger museum sphere. COVID-19 has certainly stunted the growth of this aspect of museum learning, and I’m interested to see how museums further develop ways around this new challenge. 

Lindsay: What would your ideal museum food experience look like? Mine would be within a recreation of a Roman-style villa. I’d sample the elaborate tastes of the Roman elite while lounging on a kline atop an ostentatious mosaic within the triclinium. Bring me a globi and some peacock or boar to snack on. Possibly an edible chubby dormouse? 

"The Unswept Floor" mosaic in the Villa on Aventine Hill in Rome, created during Hadrian's reign. Source.

Lindsay: I’d also want to experience the life of a cook for a prominent family in a working kitchen. The grueling task of bread making can be recreated from this time period. The smells of sweat and smoke while enclosed in a hot cooking space would transpose oneself into the mentality of poorer Romans. These harsh and arduous working conditions exemplify what the daily life of a worker might have been like. Too often we get lost in the romanticization and wonders of elite and mythos of emperors, forgetting the larger portion of the population. Further dialogue should then take place within museum contexts that displays artifacts from antiquity in relation to food stuffs and cooking ware. And of course, my forever love of garum (the Monosdium Glutamate (MSG) of the Roman world). Who wouldn’t want to sample putrid fish guts?

Dominica: I love MSG and fermented fish sauce, so I would totally be into that. Echoing your thoughts on focusing on the general population, I want food and other multi-sensory experiences in museums to turn more towards marginalized histories and present-day experiences. MSG is still labeled as unhealthy, which is the legacy of a white scientist’s racism against Chinese immigrants. I still see “MSG-free” labels on Chinese food products and at Chinese restaurants. Of course, food can bring people together, but people also use food to antagonize, demonize, and ostracize a community as we’ve recently seen with the “bat soup” myth. As we’ve mentioned before, museums have a large platform to shed more light on these stories and I think food will play an important role in encouraging greater empathy towards these experiences. The Museum of Food and Drink put on the multi-sensory "Flavor: Making It and Faking It" exhibit, which included the science and history of MSG. The exhibition team offered home-made MSG tablets for visitors to try! 

The end of our conversation concluded with a hypothetical discussion about our new life goal to open a Michelin star restaurant together. The menu will be historic food inspired using kitchen instruments from that era. A historian and a classicist. What a dream team. GoFundMe account coming soon! (Just kidding!) 

                                Till next time in Julia Child's signature sign-off, "Bon Appetit!"

MIGRANT AGRICULTURAL WORKERS' RIGHTS

A Muse Bouche | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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Our previous article, “The Museum In My Kitchen: Trying WWI Recipes,” centered on the role of food in museums during a pandemic, specifically within the context of food shortages in Canada. We explained that the rise in food shortages in Canada were brought on in part by the travel ban that prevented many agricultural migrant workers from entering the country. Agricultural migrant workers have since begun work on farms again, but that does not mean our food industry should return to business as usual. Many Canadian farmers violated the basic rights of these workers, and continue to do so. This has only worsened during the pandemic. Although discussions of these human rights problems are only now becoming dinner table conversations in many Canadian homes, these issues are endemic to Canada’s colonial structures and have occurred for generations.

Fresh produce at a grocery store. Source. 

European settlers in Canada have been exploiting people of colour for cheap labour since the late 1800’s. According to the Royal BC’s Museum research project on “Ethnic Agricultural Labour,” the workers were Indigenous, Chinese, Japanese, Doukhobor, and Portuguese. Today the agricultural sector is heavily dependent on seasonal migrant workers, mostly from countries in the Caribbean and Mexico, through the Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program (SAWP) and the Temporary Foreign Worker Program. The agricultural industry is labour intensive and requires highly skilled workers. In the bee keeping sector, for example, one must have the ability to identify the queen among tens of thousand of worker bees and detect mite infestation. A day’s work can consist of long hours, working with dangerous machinery, and under difficult climatic conditions. Workers must adhere to these strenuous working situations with inadequate pay. Living conditions on these properties are no better. They are often cramped, dirty, and receive little ventilation. The authors of “Canada jeopardizes migrant workers amid pandemic,” likens these conditions to an “open-air prison.” The sordid living and working conditions have become a hotbed for the rapid spread of the virus. Given the cramped conditions, workers cannot quarantine or work while social-distancing. Consequently, there are three reported deaths and hundreds of new COVID-19 cases springing up within these farms. Recently, the Nature Fresh farm in Ontario has shut down due to an outbreak of COVID-19. This situation truly speaks to the inadequacy of Canada's food infrastructure. Graeme McKay put it best in their editorial cartoon: "Covid grows in Ontario."



Currently, there are no formal structures in place, either in the programs that bring workers to the farms or in the federal government, that effectively hold these employers accountable for the mistreatment of their workers. Additionally, migrant workers have very few rights to express concern as they are not permanent residents. Their unstable and uncertain status with lack of ability to unionize, makes them vulnerable to exploitation by their employers. The work permit visa stipulates that migrant workers may only be affiliated with one employer per temporary residency contract term. Since they are tied to one employer, speaking out against them would risk their deportation.

The mistreatment and exploitation of migrant workers is inherently racist, and a violation of their human rights. Additionally, some Canadians felt emboldened by COVID-19 to express their racism more explicitly through racial profiling, barring these workers from entering shops, and surveilling them. To document the completion of the self-isolation period for individuals who have recently arrived in Canada, The Haldimand-Norfolk Health Unit created identification cards. However, the health unit only distributed the cards to migrant agricultural workers and have since discontinued the cards. The association of plague with racialized bodies is not a novel phenomenon in the discourses of white supremacy. Recall just earlier this year when many attacked Chinese people — both verbally and physically — and vilified their food, because some scientists speculated that COVID-19 originated from wet markets in Wuhan, China. Mainstream culture treats racialized bodies as if they are “a risk, rather than at risk.”

A banner for migrant workers rights at the May Day of Action rally. Source. 

Museums, such as the Canadian Museum of Human Rights and the Royal BC Museum, have researched and exhibited these issues to some extent, but museums are more connected to migrant workers than in the collection of migrant workers’ oral histories or in educating their publics on the injustices that these workers face. Many museums offer food programming or provide food services, making them part of the food supply chain where they likely benefit from the labour of migrant agricultural workers. As part of the food supply chain, and as cultural institutions, museums should practice ethical food consumption. Indeed, museums have discussed ethical food consumption practices in the past and there is already a responsible procurement policy published in A Sustainable Development Guide for Canada’s Museum Food.  However, museums, as cultural institutions who are beholden to their publics, ought to take a more active and outward stance. Jordan Fee opined, in “‘Where Does This Come From?’: Pondering Provenance In The Global Supply Chain,” that the food industry ought to take a page from museum’s collection policies on provenance, but perhaps there is mutual learning to be had. Food provenance can persuade consumers to stop purchasing from unethical businesses, such as the farmers who are guilty of exploiting and discriminating against migrant agricultural workers, and demand that guilty farmers be held accountable and regulations be put in place to ensure worker's rights are upheld. This approach is already taking place in the museum's collections as seen in the repatriation of stolen objects, but museums ought to dissolve that silo-mentality and investigate other parts of the museum as well. If only abandoning the practice of stealing artifacts is not good enough, then only halting business with farms that violate human rights is not sufficient either.

As individuals, what we collect and ingest must follow these same standards. This is a time of introspection. Are the foods you consume ethically sourced? How are you supporting migrant agricultural workers? Armando Perla's chapter "Representing Agricultural Migrant Workers in the Canadian Museum of Human Rights," in The Idea of a Human Rights Museum, underscores that while some farmers- typically those who own larger farms- are the ones violating the worker's basic rights, the Canadian "government's inactivity has allowed the perpetuation of a system that discriminates against and exploits foreign workers without any accountability." As such, we ought to hold our government accountable for their inaction and for upholding  these oppressive systems. You can sign the Migrant Rights Network’s petition to call on federal, provincial, and municipal leaders to provide migrant workers with health care, with worker’s protection, and to grant them permanent resident status.

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THE MUSEUM IN MY KITCHEN: TRYING WWI RECIPES

A Muse Bouche | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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The National WWI Museum and Memorial launched the online exhibition “War Front: From the Home Front to the Front Lines,” in 2014. To compliment the exhibit, it features a 1918 cookbook entitled “Win the War in the Kitchen,” and invites the audience to re-create war-time recipes. With the support of the Woodrow Wilson government, the United States Food Administration originally published this cookbook to further inspire women to “take up arms” and mobilize certain skills on the homefront.

                 

National WWI Museum and Memorial in Kansas City, United States. Source.

Blogs and news outlets have rediscovered this exhibit to provide the public with ideas on how to adapt their meals to the increased food shortages and to support their audience emotionally during this time of extreme stress. The increase of food shortages are brought on by mass hoarding of resources and a shortfall of agricultural labourers. The exhibit is finding relevance and purpose in a COVID-19 context, and we aim to find what new meanings have emerged because of it and the differences between cooking historic recipes in the museum and our homes. Lindsay and I chose two recipes to make and eat with our families at home and shared our experiences with each other.

Dominica: I chose to make potato bread and poultry with peas because their flavours were complementary. They also shared quite a few ingredients, which kept my grocery list nice and short.

Potato Bread  [Left] and a Poultry with Peas dish [Right]. Photographs courtesy of Dominica Tang. 

Lindsay: I made a scalloped cabbage dish and a tomato and bean stew, akin to a “Meatless Monday” menu. The United States became a major contributor for food supplies for the frontline when they joined the war. Meat consumption was restricted on the home front so that the meat could be exported for the frontline.

Scalloped Cabbage dish [left] and Tomato and Bean Stew [Right]. Photographs courtesy of Lindsay Chisholm.

Dominica: My family had trouble purchasing fresh meat, especially at the beginning of the lockdown. The number of dairy products that customers can purchase are also being limited in many grocery stores. So how did you find cooking and eating these dishes?

Lindsay: My prior experience in museology and food stems from the realm of edible archaeology. The key to unearthing stories from the past is through the systematic study of the archaeological record. It was this mindset that restricted any creative decision-making during cooking. It took every morsel of my being not to doctor up these recipes and alter the steps of seasoning to retain historical credibility. The lack of aromatics [onions, garlic, and herbs] made the food bland. For instance, without browning your butter first, it lacks a nutty richness and a pleasant aroma. This blandness may be accredited to the food shortages during the war. Did you have similar sensory issues?

Lindsay put on a cute, frilly apron for the occasion! Photograph courtesy of Lindsay Chisholm.

Dominica:  I actually used the recipe more as an inspiration than as a strict guide and as such, I took a creative licence in “recreating” the historic recipes. To the poultry and peas recipe, I added MSG, bacon, parsley, and garlic to add more flavour and colour. Both recipes called for bacon fat, so it made economical sense to also add the meat and not waste it. The mashed potato kept the bread wonderfully moist and fluffy, but the bread was extremely bland. I generously coated each slice with salted butter.

Slices of potato bread toast paired with a hot cup of coffee. Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang.

Lindsay: Did you find your cooking was drastically altered when experimenting in your at-home kitchen rather than within a historic kitchen at a house museum?

Dominica: Yes! I have made potato bread before from a 19th century recipe in Mackenzie House’s historic kitchen, where I bake in a wood-fired iron stove and followed the recipe to a tee. An unofficial exception of the museum and our visitors was to recreate the recipe as accurately as possible. At home, I was free to incorporate and accommodate for my personal tastes and my family’s dietary preferences. My family was more interested in trying something new, rather than sampling food from a specific historic period. All the extra ingredients were still historically accurate to the period and location, MSG can be found naturally in products like cheese, and cooks have always altered their recipes to suit their diners.

Dominica's potato bread loaf in the historic oven at Mackenzie House museum [Left]. The bread tasted delicious with a bit of butter, jam, and marmalade [Right]. Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang. 

Lindsay: That’s very true. By tracing histories from the past through food, we can make similar comparisons between how we examine recipes of the early 20th century to that from ancient societies. In “Win the War in the Kitchen” and Roman culinary sources, like Apicius, both lack detailed information on measurements, amounts of foodstuffs, and cooking times. The writers expected the audience to be experts in their field who would have taken liberties with their art. Dominica, you interpreted the record like a chef from the past by adding your own fixings! We were both able to incorporate museum based-programming for at home use. It is through creativity and connection that a person can figuratively leave the confines of their home isolation and be transported into a past world of exploration.

Digitizing and sharing these historic recipes with the public gives the audience control over their edible museum experience and provides access to them when people need it most. We chose to write about “Win the War in the Kitchen,” because it became a COVID-19 relevant project through public interest instead of the museum's. People are interested in museum programming that distracts them but also helps make sense of the world. Being a community-centered museum and appealing to an audience during COVID-19 goes beyond providing online education, entertainment, and emotional support. In times of crisis, museums should, as Nina Simon argues, serve the needs of people who are most vulnerable to the social, mental, and physical consequences of the pandemic. The Brooklyn Museum, for example, partnered with Campaign Against Hunger and donated their parking space to serve as a free food-pick up site. Will museums continue this type of community work in a post-lockdown world? We sure hope so.

VERTICAL INTERSECTION: HISTORIC HOUSE SPROUTS ANEW

Program Review | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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Mackenzie House Museum is hosting the "Vertical Intersections Installation, Workshop & Pok¡ Launch" created by Diana Guzman of IDITA Design Services, every Sunday between January 19th and 26th as part of the DesignTO2020 festival. Guzman is a multidisciplinary industrial designer and architect that works with several mediums to create human centered designs. Her newest product, named Pok¡, is a paper-based, yet waterproof, sleeve that holds small plants that can be decorated with crayon and hung indoors or outdoors. They start out as a single sheet of paper and is transformed into a three-dimensional plant-holder with a few folds. Pok¡ is named endearingly after the pouch’s poke-ability and is an expression of Guzman’s passion for bringing people together through art and gardening.

Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

At Mackenzie House Museum, the plants are hung on an upright rack creating a living exhibit that displays the personalities and creativity of individuals who share an interest in Guzman’s work; hence, a “vertical intersection.” The Vertical Intersection program serves as a quasi- communal garden that fits perfectly in the concrete jungle where green spaces are far and few between. It caters to anyone looking for a mini escape from the brutal wintriness of January and wishes to be in the presence of some greenery, creativity and great company.

While we sipped Moringa tea from Colombia and listened to El_Búho and Nicolă Cruz’s music, the ambiance of Mackenzie House museum shifted from being strictly a pedagogical atmosphere to a more relaxed space for open discussion. Each of us relinquished personal stories about our love for plants and our studies, which was followed by laughter. This eased us into a creative mindset where we felt connected and comfortable within the space. After an in-depth presentation on her creative process, Guzman demonstrated and patiently guided us through the assembly process at our own pace. This felt more like a conversation among friends than an educational tutorial. Finally, we decorated our Pok¡s with crayon and placed a small plant of our choice in each one. Here are our finished plant-abodes:

Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

Toronto, during the long, barren winter months, can feel restrictive, isolating, and cold. This can make any Torontonian, especially those residing in our infamous shoe box-sized apartments, feel gloomy and disconnected. Newcomers, who may not have a local support system, can be further afflicted by the winter blues. Spaces of greenery can help relieve these feelings and serve as an oasis to escape the slush and greyness of the Torontonian winter. Guzman’s project creates green spaces to foster community building; it, as she puts it

“invite[s] locals into shared public space to grow plants, share stories, and create community. It nourishes opportunities for interaction and new friendships fighting loneliness and social isolation; grows awareness of local ecosystems and the importance of their protection and integration into urban landscapes, and educates the community to reclaim and create more green urban spaces.” 

Dominica Tang, Lindsay Chisholm and Diana Guzman. Photograph courtesy of deMirandaProducciones

Mackenzie House Museum's decision to host Vertical Intersections is something worth thinking about when considering the value and purpose of museum programming. Green spaces are not often associated with small historic houses. Furthermore, there is no obvious connection to the history of the museum, William Lyon Mackenzie, or to printing. Yet, it ties in with and enunciates the underlying values of Mackenzie House Museum, namely community building, diversity, and the well-being of their visitors. Museums in Toronto are striving to become loci of community building, but some museums activities such as self-explored and guided tours, though valuable in their own right, are not appropriate tools for such a goal.

A Pok¡ for Museum Studies Student Association (MUSSA) and one for Musings. Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

Admission into the museum and attendance to the program is free, creating an inclusive and accessible environment. The space is inviting and allows for a wider range of visitors to attend, with a wider breadth of interests that not only pertain to history. There are few social spaces left, outside of our own homes, where we can gather and not expect to pay. Here, we can fully be in the moment and enjoy each other’s company without the looming guilt of spending money on leisurely and self-care activities.

Mackenzie House Museum, the structure and institution, and its community benefits from green-based programming. Participants bring a new liveliness and form connections to the space by taking care of the plants and colouring the Pok¡s with their own personal touch. This process helps visitors associate new memories and meaning with Mackenzie House Museum and can, potentially, change their perception of what a museum can be. A symbiotic relationship is formed resulting in the ongoing care of the heritage site.

Stay tuned for more museum programming adventures with Dominica and Lindsay, your program purveyors!

Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm