By Karen Aagaard (Guest Contributor)

Is that Red Fife wheat bread? And are those raw milk cheeses we see?

In Saturday’s edition of The Globe and Mail, (in the Globe T.O. section, natch), Sasha Chapman wrote about Slow Food Toronto’s latest coup: the “eco-gastronomic” organization had organized a sumptuous, Slow Food feast at Hart House, and the Ayatollah of the Slow Food movement, Carlo Petrini, was flying to our fair city—from Italy—to attend. But not everyone was equally impressed. In a letter to the editor in Monday’s Globe and Mail, Kim Solga of London, Ontario, wrote: “According to Sasha Chapman, the Do It Slow Banchetto dinner ‘is open to anyone with $150 to spare.’ In other words: Slow-cooked, healthy, locally sourced food is available only to the wealthy among us. That’s sustainability for you.”
According to Paul DeCampo, Slow Food Toronto’s convivium co-leader, Solga was missing the point. “It’s a fundraiser,” he said; “so I’m still not sure why we got flamed [in the letters to the editor] in the Globe and Mail.” Although we were tempted to stop the conversation to provide a few words of comfort (we’re pretty much experts on flaming at this point), we let DeCampo continue. “The last few events we had were free, and most of our public events are offered at little cost.” Though DeCampo’s justification of the $150-per-head (and $125-per-member) charge for Do It Slow: Banchetto smacks of a Robin Hoodesque logic, it still makes sense: “We stand in solidarity with food producers,” he explained. “And our intention is to direct more attention and funds to those food producers. We take funds from those who can contribute, and give it to those who need it.”

A Slow Food feast is prepared.

Of the twenty-odd chefs involved (including Jamie Kennedy, Scott Vivian, Tawfik Shehata, Anthony Rose, Mark Cutrara, and Karen Viva-Haynes), the Master of Ceremonies (Roberto Martella), and the organizers of the event (DeCampo and co-leader Arlene Stein), not a single individual is being compensated for his or her time or labour; while chefs will be reimbursed for the expense of ingredients, DeCampo stresses that Friday’s event is a volunteer effort.
But enough about banquet politics—let’s get back to the feast. What can the average diner expect to consume at Do It Slow: Banchetto? According to Scott Vivian, chef de cuisine at JK at the Gardner and “leader of all things food” at Friday’s convivium, the evening will start with cheese (an Ontario wine and raw milk cheese reception hosted by Jamie Kennedy, to be precise), and end with petit fours (did somebody say pine-perfumed sponge toffee?). Sandwiched in between these pre- and post-meal offerings, Slow Foodies and their hangers-on can expect five additional courses. The first course has been labelled “charcuterie masters,” the second “veg heads,” the third “little big fish,” the fourth “the whole Tamworth pig,” and, finally, the fifth course has been dubbed “honey four play” (those cheeky chefs!).
While Scott Vivian may be the man in charge, he’s been fairly hands-off with the structuring of each menu item. “Each course has taken on the personality of the chefs,” he said; “everything is a collaboration.” Indeed, as soon as the list of participating chefs had been confirmed (most are Slow Food enthusiasts, anyway), Vivian used a tried-and-true technique to divvy up the cooking duties: “We threw numbers [which corresponded with courses] into a hat—and whatever number you got, that’s the group you were in. Coincidentally, the vegetarian course ended up being a collaboration of chefs who work within two city blocks of each other.”
But what about that dreadful, half-formed parable? You know the one: too many cooks in the kitchen? “Ego and competition went right out the window,” said Vivian, shattering our vision (or was that fantasy?) of a Slow Food edition of Kitchen Nighmares.
Photos courtesy of Jo Dickins/Slow Food Toronto.