A Zhivago Thanksgiving

October 19, 2016 Le Marché St. George

A Zhivago Thanksgiving

Wild sage bouquets. Cold winds and rain. Desert terrain. Dust. Smoke. The Long Weekend also known as The Weekend of Building Alcohol Tolerance. Cooking In The Elements. Freezing hands. Vintage furs. An impromptu fashion photoshoot. Abandoned farmsteads. Beautiful bones. Puppies. Coloured smoke bombs. Charred vegetables. Hungarian goulash. Coyote calls. Duck duck goose in the crisp mountain air.

Team-building. Camaraderie. Community. Love. Laughter. Life.

These photographs represent only a fraction of how we, as friends and as a team - spent our Canadian Thanksgiving extra-long weekend.

For more photographs, visit the iPhone photo journals of Issha Marie
set 1 | set 2 | set 3 | set 4

Photographs: Issha Marie & Janaki Larsen

Oroville: views from a bonafide city-dweller.

July 12, 2016 Issha Marie

I had certain reservations about this trip. These reservations had absolutely nothing to do with the location, the logistics of my arrival and departure, nor the company I would be keeping over the Canada Day long weekend. My reservations stemmed from my not having gone camping... anywhere, ever. I am talking the whole tent-life, hygiene-maintenance-in-the-bush, bug-spray, outhouse-if-you-are-lucky, no-shower, carting-around-lake-water-to-wash-your-dishes type of camping.

I am a bonafide city dweller. I was born in a big city, I was raised in a big city, I've immigrated from one big city [from Asia: Manila, Philippines] to permanently reside in another big [Canada: Toronto, Ontario] city, and my only concept of any small town, suburban-type, or country living has been sorely influenced by the handful of day trips out to farms and adorable countryside villas where I would don my typical city wear [sans leather oxfords or heels, opting for gumboots or sneakers instead], and prance around happily amongst the wildflowers and the orchard trees. The wilderness in those situations, given my personal experiences in my first ever Oroville away-trip, seemed very much easy to control and predict, and I would still ultimately end those days in my own bed or within comfortable lodgings furnished with a bed, a shower, a toilet, and a sink.

So, yes, I would hail Oroville as my first real experience in the wild. Seasoned wilderness junkies would scoff and laugh at this, yes, but I went into this trip knowing I would be pushing the boundaries of my personal comfort zone, "digitally-out-of-reach", I noted, save for perhaps "through a trained carrier pigeon". I looked at Oroville as my personal Everest of sorts (one of many, at the very least) - a place where I would purposely let go of my obsessive-compulsive need to shower, have smooth legs, tidy hair, and clean clothes.

I jumped into this armed with having only seen instagrams of the place and the joking remarks of Pascal, who told me they would have to arm me with bear spray, mace, and guns in order to be able to "do my business" out in the wild safely and effectively. I laughed these jokes off, though admittedly I was mentally panic-stricken at first, going through the myriad of stored excuses in my head to be able to explain why I will have to pass on this Oroville experience this time.

Lengthy preface aside... going to Oroville is the best thing I have ever afforded myself in what seems like a lifetime. I had forgotten how important it is to get away from it all - the day-to-day grind of life. Because I work full-time and devote my weekends to building my photography portfolio with my freelance photo partner, Oroville provided me with some much-needed and overdue respite from the high-anxiety-ridden existence of a 30-odd-something woman currently obsessed with perfecting inventory systems and developing her burgeoning career. Three days were most certainly not enough and I felt the familiar heaviness of adult responsibility set in as soon as I set foot back in the city.

It was in my days in Oroville that I relished the thick film of dust all over my hair and my body, jumped off small rock cliffs into lake water several times over, shed my usual body-consciousness, felt the juices of ripe apricots, cherries, and watermelons drip down my arms without worrying about the sticky residues that remained long after I have eaten them, laid under the stars with a friend blanketed by a sleeping bag while we played spot-the-shooting-star and talked openly about life and love, and eating simple food prepared and served en-plein-air. The experiences were far too numerous to count in my very limited time there: roadside tacos, hot tamales sold in a humble farmers' market, a ghost town, wild sage plants, a cloudless black darkness pierced only by the light of the stars, the feeling of dry heat on your skin... all of these... punctuated by the absurdly surreal beauty of the mountains. I am humbled by how truly small I am - a speck in the pure vastness of it all.

I am immensely thankful to Janaki and Pascal for welcoming a first-timer like me into their troupe. Sadly, the hard-core credibility that I have obtained from jumping off small cliff-sides into lake water have been erased when Janaki caught me recently lip-syncing to the cheesy tunes of Phil Collins and Peter Cetera at Atelier St. George. Darn! Perhaps the next time I return to Oroville, I will find myself a cowboy to kiss this newly-indicted wilderness woman and gain that credibility back. ;-)

A French girl meets two Oroville cowboys.

Story by

Issha Marie

Photographs by

Issha Marie & Janaki Larsen

Messors | Culinary and Shepherding Workshop 2016

June 29, 2016 Pascal Roy

This would need to be an 80-part post to properly convey the scope of our time in Italy with Messors. Since that seems to be a lot to ask, I will try to condense it down to 3 posts over the next little while.

Southern Italy is the place for me: the colour palette, the pace, the olive groves and wheat fields, crumbling stone farmhouses and medieval towns, growing out of cliff sides like barnacles. It is both equally austere on one end and achingly opulent on the other. I found it wildly and endlessly inspiring on so many levels. All these things would be amazing to see on one's own but what made it even richer was spending it with people who have a deep deep love and long established roots in the area: people who are passionately committed to preserving a cultural and culinary history that is not exempt from the effects of globalization.

"Slow Living" and "Slow Food is not a new concept and I thought I understood it pretty well. I grew up in the country, we grew our food, we knew where our cheese came from. We run a store and café that fully supports these ideas... BUT we still live in a city. Somehow the pace of the city has crept up without my even noticing and I was gently reminded how important these things are. It was beautiful to slow down and observe the time, care, and attention that went into the all of the details.

Cheese Making

The day began with making pecorino and ricotta with Raphaele and his wife at their farm. We then moved over to a beautiful stone shepherd's house, located in a field surrounded by 3rd century caves, followed with some lessons and insights into the typical cheeses of Puglia: mozzarella, bocconcini, treccia, burrata, and scarmoza with Vito and his son. We had a traditional shepherd's lunch within the cool confines of this stone house, which offered us wonderful respite from the heat outside. After a brief lay-around in the grass discussing the religious aspects of shepherding the the dying art of textile production, we were on the move...

... and we ended the day here, having dinner on a bridge in Gravina!

As I've mentioned before, setting tables is one of my favourite things to do and I got to do a lot of that. In fact, I will be writing a post dedicated specifically to "art of the picnic".

There really is too much to possibly cover without going on forever. I hope these photos are able to give you an idea of the absolute beauty that filled my eyes everyday. Keep watch for the follow up posts! Thank you Tonio, Jennifer, Julie, Francesco, Nicole and Rossana for your hard work, dedication and beauty!

A Messors Summer

February 18, 2016 Pascal Roy

I've always thought that if I had to freeze a moment in life and relive it, over and over again, it would be a dinner party - a dinner party outside. One of my favourite alfresco dinner scenes is in Federico Fellini's Amarcord. The long rambling table, the quirky overhead sunshade, the accordion player, the copious bottles of wine, the wind, and the sentiments expressed by the drunken guests have always struck a chord with me. I think it's the unpretentiousness, the un-conrtrived, and un-self-conscious beauty of it that I love so much.

A couple of years ago we held an olive oil tasting and dinner that had some of those qualities. It was an evening organized with our friends Tonio and Jennifer, who run a series of workshops in Puglia, Italy named Messors. I don't think I can begin to explain the depth of knowledge, passion, and love Tonio has for his "home" and his willingness to share it with everyone. He is committed to preserving the history of food, art, and culture in this area. I've been fortunate enough to have been invited to join them for the past 4 years but it has never been "the right time". I've learned that there is no such thing as "the right time", so this is the year! We will be joining Tonio, Francesco, Julie Marr of Kitchen Culinaire and Nicole Kilburn for 10 days of intensive learning, cooking, eating, and beauty. I can' t think of any better way of learning to cook authentic, rustic food than from the people who know it best: a shepherd, a baker, a historian, an anthropologist, a Nonna, and a friend. These workshops take the popular concepts of "knowing the maker" and "knowing where and how it's made" and push it even further into a deep and unforgettable experience.

If you are a chef, a cook, a visual junkie, a lover of history or just curious about the culinary traditions of Southern Italy, we hope to see you there. As the photos attest, there will certainly be dinners eaten outside on long rambling tables!

Check out their website because in addition to the Culinary and Shepherding Workshop there is an Art Restoration Workshop, The Fornello Project and a Decorative Art Restoration workshop at the stunning Chateau Gudanes in France.

For more information contact Tonio at messors.tonio@gmail.com

Photographs provided by Messsors and Andrea Reed
Sentiments: Janaki Larsen