Purée de Carrottes

On my 19th birthday–the birthday where you turn “legal” in Canada (I was still in Canada, at the time)–instead of going bar hopping or throwing a party, my friends and I took an outing to the Toronto Islands.

My birthday falls on the cusp of spring and summer–just when school lets out, two weeks before the official start of the season, though it’s usually warm and even balmy by the time the 7th rolls around, and so a trip to the islands that we could see from the city, the ones that were rumored to be a playground for adults, was in order.

Over the course of my years moving from here to there, I have grown up quite a bit faster than a lot of people I know (required when you live in a dorm at 15, move to a foreign country at 18 and move across an ocean at 19). But no matter how much I grow up over the year, summertime–rung in without fail on my birthday every year–is the time where I forget all that, where the shoes come off and hardly ever get put on, where I stash my makeup in a drawer and allow my hair to do what it pleases, which is usually take over small countries.

Our trip to the Toronto Islands was no exception. My friend and I immediately took over the swings and started making big plans: on my 21st birthday, instead of throwing a party, we would go to a McPlay Playspace. In the moment, it seemed like the best possible way to become an adult.

A few minutes later, trapped in a tree that had looked completely surmountable from the ground, I realized something important: I’m not seven anymore, as much as I would sometimes like to be. The responsibilities that come with growing up bring about new fears; there is nothing quite like the ignorant fearlessness of a child.

I got down from the tree thanks to help from another friend of mine, though I still like to humor my inner child by wandering around such “grown-up” playgrounds as the Parc de la Villette, where signposts warn against climbing–probably to deter such misguided attempts at returning to childhood as mine.

In my wandering, I continued noticing this fearlessness in children, the feeling I had once harbored. Kids wander into the middle of the street without noticing the cars barrelling past. They abandon their personal property in parks, on the sidewalk, at friends’ houses, unaware of the consequences: once abandoned, lost mittens are very hard to get back. But with all this fearlessness, we are still willing to cater to kids’ sensitive palates: kids’ menus, kids’ options, chicken nuggets around every corner.

I’ve read the research about sensitive tastebuds and acquired tastes… and I don’t buy it. My mother was a very no-nonsense cook: with four children, it was made very clear very early that there would be no catering to individual preferences. A favorite family story involves my mother in the park, smiling exuberantly and letting a four-year-old me starting to whine for apple juice know, “Your choices are water or nothing.”

I chose water.

This summer, sensitive American palates in Paziols had Anne-Marie begging me to break out the instant mashed potatoes, but even I–who admittedly have stooped to many a craving for Kraft Dinner–have standards. If it was mashed potatoes they wanted, mashed potatoes they would get, but mashed potatoes my way. They got homemade breaded chicken tenders. I offered chocolate cake to those who finished their vegetables. And then, of course, there were the purées: one of mashed potatoes topped with gruyère, the other a mix of carrot and potato, just enough to keep the texture of a good mash and to allow for some Vitamin A absorption, for those who were counting down the days to nights of hamburgers and french fries again.

Some of them, admittedly, whined down to the very last day. But they all followed my rule–a rule I stole from my mother–that you had to try everything, even if you didn’t think you would like it. And like in my house, the rule usually finished with cleaned plates and smiles.

Purée de Carrottes

3 large carrots
3 large potatoes
1 clove garlic, peeled
1 tbsp. butter
3 tbsp. crème fraîche
salt to taste
1/4 tsp. nutmeg (optional)

Bring a pot of water to a boil.

Wash the potatoes and carrots, but do not peel. Cut into uniform shapes and place in the boiling water, along with the clove of garlic. Cook 20-25 minutes, until the potatoes can be easily pierced with a fork. Drain and turn off the heat. Return vegetables to hot pot.

Mash with a potato masher until smooth, incorporating the butter and crème fraîche. Add salt to taste and the nutmeg, if using, and stir until combined. Serve hot.