writing, wine, and beautiful automobiles

In February I celebrate working the freelance writing thing for six years. It’s crazy. And pretty awesome.

Freelancing has been my sole source of income since June 2012. That’s no small feat, considering my partner isn’t in a position to shoulder more than his share of our expenses – mortgage, car/home insurance, health care, utilities etc. I know writers who don’t need to rely on their income from writing, and I’m happy for them – I’m just not one of them.

The landscape of this life is a patchwork of individual projects, pitching assignments to publications, and finding the elusive regular/ongoing contract. It’s tedious and tiring, but flexible and rewarding in ways not measured by a bank balance. After several years of juggling competing deadlines and surviving lean ‘quiet’ months, I’ve managed to assemble a less jumbled combination of contracts and regular stints. Translation: the times are a-changin’.

endings

Orofino's 1.6 Mile Dinner with Joy Road Catering
Orofino’s 1.6 Mile Dinner with Joy Road Catering

As I make my way into a few more structured contracts, I’m bidding farewell to a few regular gigs – including one that has been dear to my heart since 2011: EAT Magazine.

Under the guidance of brilliant writer/editor/wine professional Treve Ring, I wrote more than 30 articles for EAT’s digital presence and a number of others in ink. At times the writing world can be cold, but Treve (and publisher Gary Hynes) provided me with a warm place to test my writing chops and push boundaries – my own included. I’ll miss writing with EAT, and I hope to contribute occasionally. I have Treve & Gary to thank for things too numerous to list.

beginnings

fangirl time with pro driver Patrick Carpentier
fangirl with pro driver Patrick Carpentier (photo credit: Voth Photography)

For the last year I’ve been working with the lovely group at South Okanagan Motorsports. They’re the folks building Area 27 – a private Motorsports club & track outside of Oliver on land owned by the Osoyoos Indian Band. With my dad an auto body tech and painter, I saw many cars at an early age and have been in love with beautiful automobiles ever since. (16-year-old me had an enormous crush on Jacques Villeneuve)

Things are moving quickly for Area 27 so I’m dedicating more time to them. It might seem an exclusive group, and it takes more than a few bones to join (it is a private club), but the people involved are some of the kindest I know. I arrive with my beater of a ride and park in a lot stacked with cars most only dream about, but no one cares that my ’91 Accord has a belt squeal or exhaust leak. (I’ve also met Richard Spenard, Patrick Carpentier, and Trevor Seibert – which is totally rad)

the wine part

don't assume the valve can be opened
don’t assume the valve can be opened

After making more than a few trips to Covert Farms in the past few years, I’m smitten with the place. In September 2014, I signed on to work harvest as cellar hand; I had no experience but oodles of theoretical awareness. Why work harvest? I’m a writer – I like to know my subject matter. It was gruelling, cold, wet, and exhausting work. It was also engaging, rewarding, fascinating, and addicting.

Since then, the dynamic duo of Gene and Derek have decided to keep me around for a couple of days per week. It’s a small operation experiencing enormous growth, which means people wear many hats and flexibility is required. My having other freelance contracts makes it easier for them, and they can be flexible and adapt to my crazy schedule. It’s win-win.

Lastly, there’s a super rad contract that I’ll be announcing mid-February. No details until then, sorry.

Keeping my hand in the pot, I’ll continue with a few bits-and-pieces contracts that are meaningful and interesting. It’s been a tough slog to get here and I know the challenges are far from over. I’m fortunate to work with wonderful clients who trust me to tell their stories – and there are many more to come.

I’m grateful to each of you who has supported me, fed me, proofed for me, listened to my crazy ideas, and helped me on this wackadoodle path that is freelance writing. You’ll probably end up as characters in a novel that I never publish.

Here’s to a year ahead of writing, wine, and beautiful automobiles.

~ Jeannette

terra madre: slowing it all down

In a world of fast, slow is what we covet. Or should. Go through (if you dare) a fast-food drive-thru and look for the clock/timer near the window; it’s monitoring the entire interaction from the disembodied speaker voice to the person handing over whatever passes for food.

The fast-growing backlash to large scale unsustainable food production is the slow food movement and Terra Madre: a network of food communities focused on responsibly and sustainably producing quality food – translated, terra madre means ‘mother earth.’

It asks that we get out of our cars and take the time to live responsibly, which isn’t a big ask considering that’s exactly what we say we want to do.

On December 10th I joined 60 people at a Terra Madre dinner hosted by Miradoro Restaurant at Tinhorn Creek. It was part fundraiser for our local Slow Food chapter and part playtime for some of the Okanagan’s most rad chefs involved in the slow food movement and sustainable food sourcing: Jeff Van Geest (host), Dana Ewart and Cameron Smith (Joy Road Catering), Natasha Schooten (Terrafina Restaurant), Chris Van Hooydonk (Artisan Culinary Concepts), Brock Bowes (The Sonora Room at Burrowing Owl), and Derek Uhlemann (Covert Farms). Hell yes, that’s a lineup.

We can talk about being sustainable, eco-friendly, farmers’ markets, foraging, and <insert media buzz word here>. Whether we can support a sustainable food system comes down to how we choose to live and despite what you’ve heard it might not be possible to have it all – if what you want to have isn’t, underneath, sustainable.

It took a team of 7 chefs and I have no idea how many others to bring this culinary feast to our table. They spent valuable hours preparing what we consumed. In the type of life that many of us have constructed, that’s not sustainable with our heavy schedules – the work, kids, commuting, home repairs, caring for aging families, and <insert other obligations here>. Or is it?

We need to cultivate a new definition of success, one that goes beyond acquisition of X. It’s an entire infrastructure that needs supporting – from how we reward work to what we offer as opportunities to succeed. If we can retrofit a more mindful way of how we live our lives, everyone wins – including what we rely on to sustain us.

On a personal note, a hearty and heartfelt thank you to everyone involved in making the Terra Madre day celebration the remarkable experience it was. Each of you rock my world, regularly.

Here’s a glimpse of the awesome.

pre-dinner kitchen love: chef Jeff squeezes happiness into chef Chris, while chef Dana looks on – who seems uncertain about what to make of it.
chefs getting down to business: (l-r) Brock, Cam, and Jeff – with Chris in the background.
on this night, there is no such thing as too many cooks in the kitchen. it takes a community to feed a, well… community.
chef Cam carves out a (small) space of his own. that sausage? local goat.
chef Jeff and chef Brock take advantage of a rare spacious moment in the kitchen.
the food: magnificent. the people: outstanding. it’s hard to imagine what people in large urban centres do for a culinary experience superior to this.
bodies everywhere, producing one brilliant dish after another. owner Manny waits for chef Chris to put the finishing touches on a plate.
local goat, prepared four ways. we happily enjoyed each and every one of them.
the crew, once the culinary dust had settled (L-R): Chef Jeff Van Geest, Chef Cameron Smith, Chef Chris Van Hooydonk, Chef Dana Ewart, Chef Brock Bowes, Chef Natasha Schooten, and Chef Derek Uhlemann.
the menu: ohmygawd the menu.

on being offensive: why we should do it more

It’s not (usually) in our natures to intentionally offend people, unless you’re a raunchy comedian. Even then the offensive material is carefully crafted to poke fun at what we have – passively – decided is acceptable. But maybe we should occasionally piss people off.

Earlier this year I wrote a challenging article for EAT Magazine (From Farm To Table: The Real Story, April 2013). In it, I describe a day at a local farm where I witness a sheep slaughter and butchering. Before the article, I initially mentioned the nature of it to friends and was received with a combination of shock (such harsh words!), disgust (that must have been gross), and confusion (why would you want to see that?). However, with thanks to editors Treve and Gary – who supported my rather unusual and possibly controversial article pitch – the piece ran.

Of late I’ve seen a clip circulating the interwebs that provides a certain shock value in support of the conversation around sustainable food systems; six minutes touted as “quite possibly the most eye opening six minutes ever on film.” It depicts large-scale food sourcing, complete with horrifying-to-comprehend mass farming shot in terrifically beautiful cinema format. This isn’t uncommon – documentaries have been and continue to be made in the hopes of alerting us to the stark realities of corporate farming.

We fear offending people with “sensitive” topics of conversation around slaughter or butchering, and some vegetarian friends were a little squeamish on hearing the details of my day on the farm – but we see worse in action films and first-person shooter video games. Why are we offended by a frank conversation about where our food comes from, but we’ll wrap a copy of Mortal Kombat <insert edition here> and place it under the tree in December?

Here are some images from my day on the farm – a story in photograph, unedited for their potentially offensive nature. I’m asking you to view them, please.

(big respect to EAT for taking a chance on me, to Gene and Shelly Covert for opening their farm doors to me, to Derek for inviting me, to Jeff for allowing me to capture this, and to Van Doren for being her awesome self; if I haven’t said it before, let me say it now – I’m humbled by your trust in me to tell the story well)

The two gents (Barbados blackbelly sheep), who were the stars of the show.
Derek and Van Doren prepare the sheep for a nearby tree, while Gene provides instruction.
Before automation, before electricity… this is what food looked like. It still does, when it’s farmed respectfully and sustainably.
Learning from the pro: Chef Jeff takes advice on technique from Gene.
Respectful slaughter includes taking the time to use as much of the animal as possible – not indiscriminately tossing bits and pieces into a pile.
Van Doren gets a lesson in skinning from Gene. (notice the absence of blood and gore, in contrast to today’s blockbuster action/adventure movies?)
One of Gene’s sons (homeschooled on the farm) makes an educational discovery while helping his father with the day’s work. Cause = effect.
Meat should look like it came from an animal and was handled by mindful people – not from an assembly line, handled by hundreds.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen meat this fresh. The aroma was unlike anything I’d smelled: slightly gamey, almost metallic. Honest.
Delicious-looking crepinettes from Chef Jeff; you can’t buy them because it’s illegal to sell meat slaughtered on private property. After watching shock-docs and then witnessing this day, I’d eat one of these in a second.