Children of My Heart

“An apple for the teacher” is a timeworn cliché, so when the CHC Canada 150 Food Blog Challenge announced that “School Food” was September’s theme, we at Canadian Literary Fare agreed that it was time to go back to school and reconsider the significance of student-teacher food exchanges.

Apples

In particular, we wondered what it means when the direction of the food-gift is reversed, such as in the opening scene of Gabrielle Roy’s Children of My Heart. On the first day of school, the young teacher gives a terrified five-and-a-half-year-old boy a red apple, quieting his tears with the knowledge that school is “a treat” (10).

A Governor General’s award-winning novel and one-time nominee in the CBC Canada Reads Series, Children of My Heart is Gabrielle Roy’s fictionalized account of her own experiences working as a teacher in rural and urban Manitoba schools. Set in the 1930s, the novel is filled with gifts of food – edible tokens of affection that Roy’s character bestows upon her students. So why are Roy’s teacher-pupil relationships punctuated by these exchanges?

In her study of American cinema from 1909-1939, Heather Weaver sheds light on the fact that student-teacher relationships were often portrayed as romance narratives, many of which used food symbolism. This notion of teachers “winning students over was rather new to the twentieth century,” Weaver notes (9). Gone were the days of corporal punishment and harsh discipline. New educational theories suggested teachers should nourish “the emotional lives of children, or what pedagogist Jasper Bennett had in 1888 called the ‘heart culture’ of pupils” (Weaver 9).

Biographer François Ricard notes that as a young, modern teacher, Roy followed a similar practice of “light-handed discipline, affectionate relations with the children, a great deal of time for games, picnics, stories, and demonstration lessons” (113).

In keeping with her generous spirit as an educator, Roy-the-writer incorporates the romance genre with her storied memories. One sign of this literary re-construction is Roy’s modest self-presentation as the teacher-hero, a role that Weaver argues is especially prominent in North American film: “the teacher meets the student; the student is unsure what to think of the teacher; the student falls into peril or otherwise demonstrates a need; and the teacher saves the student, thereby winning the latter’s approval and affection” (10).

On her first day of work at a Saint-Boniface elementary school, Roy’s character gazes at 35 uneasy young faces and thinks, “We’re going to be friends” (11). As the novel unfolds, readers witness Roy’s character winning the affections of her students through gifts of food, such as wrapped Christmas cones filled with candies, walnuts, a Brazilian nut, an apple or orange, and a small toy (27-28).

As the teacher-hero, Roy’s character bolsters her students’ confidence and sense of belonging, a life lesson that is especially crucial since many are from immigrant families struggling financially and socially to build a new life in Canada. Her teacherly concern and its impact are communicated through the language of sweets. When Roy warmly greets the single mother of an impoverished student, the boy is “radiant . . . , the tip of his tongue emerging to taste – you could imagine – a touch of honey on his lip” (27). Later, when he appears on her doorstep with an unexpected gift of an old Irish handkerchief, Roy feeds him chocolate cake and milk. Her praise, gratitude, and food infuse the young student with the joy that comes from participating in meaningful relationships – a social and emotional experience that lies at the heart of learning.

Cake

Recipe Note: This week we opted for Anna Olson’s recipe for a French flourless chocolate torte. It’s rich yet surprisingly light, like a baked chocolate mousse. To be reserved for favourite students.

Cake_IV

 

Ricard, François. Gabrielle Roy: A Life. 1996. Trans. Patricia Claxton. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1999

Roy, Gabrielle. Children of My Heart. 1977. Trans. Alan Brown. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 2000.

Weaver, Heather. “Beyond Apples and Ice Cream: The Teacher-Student Relationship as Cinematic Romance, 1909–1939.” Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies. 39.1 (2009): 9-20. Project Muse. Web. 23 Sept. 2017.

 

Text Credit: Shelley Boyd

Photo Credit: Alexia Moyer (unless otherwise indicated).

Un petit verre de lait

In Tremblay’s œuvre, milk is a habit, the occasional source of comfort and an accompaniment to sweet things: « un petit morceau de gâteau pour finir le petit verre de lait . . . Un petit verre de lait pour finir le petit morceau de gâteau » (La grosse femme d’à côté est enceinte).

In Tremblay’s La Duchesse et le roturier, Marcel drinks his milk with molasses cookies, his grandmother’s recipe. Such an ordinary snack accompanied by such an extraordinary conversation between this boy and the ghost/muse/fate, Florence, as to whether she can bring his departed grandmother Victoire back to him. The milk, the cookie, Florence. As far as Marcel is concerned, each is as real the other.

The recipe I have used comes from the 1926 or second edition of the Manuel de cuisine raisonnée. Originally produced in 1919 for the students of the École normale classico-ménagère de Saint-Pascal, this cookbook has known widespread use in both schools and homes in Québec and remained in print until the 1980s. There is even a 2003 edition.*

This pairing of cookbook and novel is not, I hasten to add, my own. It is Anne Fortin who painstakingly identified all references to food and drink in Tremblay’s novel cycles, La Diaspora des Desrosiers and Les Chroniques du Plateau. Fortin whittled the 400 references down to a more manageable 150 and then settled down to the work of naming and contextualizing the dishes, providing recipes from a variety of sources, not to mention visuals in the form of period photographs and advertisements. Ainsi Cuisinaient les Belles Soeurs dans l’oeuvre de Michel Tremblay: Une traversée de notre patrimoine culinaire 1913-1963 is the resulting literary cookbook / culinary history of Québec.

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milk and cookies

Molasses Cookies

Translated and adapted from Manuel de cuisine raisonnée, 1926.

Ingredients:

1 cup molasses

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 cup brown sugar

1 egg

½ cup butter or lard

2 teaspoons ground ginger

3 cups flour

1 cup milk

 

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 ⁰F

In a bowl, cream the butter with the brown sugar. Add molasses. Add the egg and stir to combine.

In a second bowl combine the flour, baking powder and ground ginger.

Stir the dry ingredients into the wet, alternating with the milk until combined.

Spoon batter onto parchment-lined cookie sheets and bake for 10 minutes.

Cool on a wire rack.

Eat.

 

 

*see Elizabeth Driver’s seminal Culinary Landmarks for a more comprehensive summary.

Driver, Elizabeth. Culinary Landmarks: A Bibliography of Canadian Cookbooks, 1825-1949. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008. Print.

Fortin, Anne. Ainsi Cuisinaient Les Belles-Sœurs Dans L’œuvre De Michel Tremblay: Une Traversée De Notre Patrimoine Culinaire, 1913-1963. , 2014. Print.

Tremblay, Michel. La Grosse Femme D’à Côté Est Enceinte. Montréal: Leméac, 1978. Print.

—. La Duchesse Et Le Roturier. Ottawa: Leméac, 1982. Print.

 

Photos and text by Alexia Moyer

Tea and Baloney

I have learned many things from Michel Tremblay’s La Traversée des sentiments, the first of which is this: when you fry baloney, sooner or later the centre of this beloved – and occasionally maligned – sliced luncheon meat will puff up, resulting in a little meat hat. Un chapeaux de baloney.

Serve it with potato hash and ketchup and call it a meal.

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chapeaux de baloney

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So This Is Winnipeg?

“The visitor to the West,—the kind of visitor who writes up his visit,—is supposed, on his first morning in Winnipeg, to throw wide open his window and say, ‘So this is Winnipeg’! I didn’t. I was too cold. And there was no one to hear me except the waiter with the tea, and he knew it was Winnipeg” (Leacock 37).

The title of this week’s post takes its inspiration from Stephen Leacock’s book My Discovery of the West. If one is unfamiliar with a city, then perhaps a famous writer’s own visit to Manitoba will provide some insight for the “Capital Meals” series?

Leacock begins his travelogue with an unenthusiastic first morning. It’s important to note, here, that when Leacock was 18 years old, his father, Peter, abandoned the family and “ran off to Manitoba at the height of a real estate boom” in the 1880s (Spadoni xiv). Known more for his gambling and drinking than his entrepreneurial skill, Peter failed in his Winnipeg venture, or as Leacock bluntly describes it, “my father lasted nearly a year, before [he] blew up” (51). Perhaps these troubled memories colour Leacock’s chapter, but more than likely his satiric vision leads to his mixed impressions of the city.

Commenting on the frigid climate, Leacock claims that January winds funnelling down Main Street and Portage Avenue stimulate one’s creativity. He’d rather leave the tropics to “the bums, the loafers, and the poets” who congregate under palm trees with their glasses of wine; instead, Leacock opts for Winnipeg’s winters, preferring “a tenderloin steak in a grill room on Main Street with a full-sized woman raised in the cattle country” (40).

Painted in Waterlogue

Photo Credit: Shelley Boyd


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