Happy Labor Day weekend! Given the pandemic, it’s hard to tell a holiday weekend from a regular weekend. The treat of staying home is getting kind of old. But, I hope you’ll be cooking something you enjoy — or patronizing one of your favorite restaurants. This week, we’re going back to my ancestral city for a visit with a fascinating shop that’s had to make some significant changes lately.
Spices In The Doorway — For Now
In 2008, I went to Montreal on what was supposed to be a holiday, and wound up with an assignment for the New York Times Dining section. My research took me to Marche Jean-Talon, the vast collection of farmer’s stalls, permanent shops and restaurants.
I’d heard about Epices de Cru, the fantastic store filled with teas, spices and flavors from around the world.
When I walked in, I found shelves of canisters, arranged by type and region and use, and a knowledgeable staff that seemed willing to let me investigate anything I wanted.
I saw all kinds of things that weren’t then common in the U.S., such as dried kaffir lime leaves, wild oregano, and a blend of Chinese and Indian spices called silk road.
I came away with an assortment of spices and some freebies that were tucked into my shopping bag, probably because I seemed like such a wide-eyed spice enthusiast.
A few years later, I was browsing in Zingerman’s Deli when my eyes spotted something familiar: a shelf full of products from Epices de Cru. Now, I could purchase their spices without a train trip or a very long car ride.
Zingerman’s began holding Spice Week, highlighting Epices de Cru products, and we happily showed up in 2017 for an Indian Spice Special Dinner.
But, Epices de Cru’s lineup goes far beyond any single region or cuisine, in part because of the backgrounds of the people involved in the company.
A playground for cooks
Epices de Cru is run by Phillipe de Vienne, a French-Canadian chef, caterer and cookbook author, and his wife, Ethne, who was born in Trinidad and moved to Montreal as a girl.
They call themselves “spice trekkers,” and in normal times, they would be out on the road, visiting food shows, exploring different parts of the world, sampling spices in their natural form. (That’s Ethne above with pepperberries.)
They originally thought their business would appeal mainly to fellow chefs and serious cooks. And, Ethne admits that the sheer variety could be intimidating for non-professionals.
“You can spot the nervous nellies and the neophytes the minute they walk in. They’re thinking, ‘should I back out now before they see me?’” she recalls. “And there are other people who say, ‘I know exactly what I want, get out of my way.’”
The shop’s style was to show customers how to open a tester can and sniff the contents, encourage them to have fun, and leave them alone until they had questions.
“It’s a sand pit for cooks,” she says, meaning sand box. “They get in there and open everything, smell it, taste it, call your friend over, have them smell it.”
Some fans of the store were so devoted that they’d put off vacations so they could afford to buy a year’s worth of spices, she says.
Until 2020, Web sales were about 15 to 20 percent of their sales, including repeat customers who weren’t able to come to Montreal.
“If the internet went down one day, we were more concerned about our accountant getting her job done than online sales,” Ethne recalls.
“We weren’t blasé (about Web sales) but it always proved challenging to sell a product like ours, based on authenticity, based on the quality of the product.”
In late winter this year, everything changed.
The new COVID reality
On March 12, Ethne and Philippe had just returned from a trip to Georgia in the Caucuses Mountains, heady from the experience. They were sitting at a staff meeting when an employee asked, “What are we going to do about the virus?” Her husband said, “What? What do you mean, what are we going to do about it?”
But Ethne, who had followed news reports during their voyage, knew COVID-19 was an issue in Asia and a growing one in Europe. Canada, as it turned out, was next.
By the following week, Marche Jean-Talon had closed for what was supposed to be a week. Schools in Quebec were closed, and some of their employees decided they did not feel safe coming in to work.
While the market was considered essential and eventually allowed to reopen, merchants had to make significant changes to comply with Canada’s strict COVID-19 protocols.
The interior of the shop was closed, and Epices de Cru had to sell goods through a doorway. When customers arrived, they spoke to Ethne, Phillippe and other staff, who answered their questions, and handed goods out to them.
“There was no more wandering in, and sniffing the spices. It had to be ‘trust us, and this is how it works,’” she says.
The bigger obstacle was their website, which was not set up for a high volume of traffic.
Overnight, they had to move stock out of the store to a central order processing place, which turned out to be their garage, and hire two staff members just to deal with shipping.
Soon, the Web comprised 50 percent of their business, with 25 percent of orders coming from the United States. (They offer free shipping for purchases of $50 or more.)
Ethne admits she was surprised. Through the years, numerous food industry figures had told them that their approach was not sophisticated enough to impress American customers, and that they lacked the right distributor to get the world out about their goods.
“We said, ‘okay, we won’t contend with all this b.s., we’ll just have a happy life,’” Ethne says.
But, with their products featured on Zingerman’s website, which saw an explosion of shutdown business, and with time on peoples’ hands due to stay at home orders, American customers found them.
Along with growing, the direction of the business also shifted.
The big demand for blends
Back when Epices de Cru began, their earliest customers were Philippe’s fellow chefs, many of whom wanted single spices, not blends. But as the COVID shutdown wore on, blends took on a new prominence.
“People really went blend crazy,” Ethne says. “It was like, ‘I don’t have time to pretend I’m going to cobble together my own blend.’ After COVID, they don’t want any stress.”
They started to advise customers, “Don’t change your recipe, change your blend” and gave combinations of spices a prominent spot on their website.
Choices include BBQ blends, Mediterranean blends, an Ethiopian Awaze blend, a Chimichurri blend, a blend meant for chicken and one based on harissa, among the many options.
“A lot of people really started hearing that message,” she says, and decided, “What have I got to lose? There are no reservations to be had at the restaurant. Why don’t I try it with a different blend?”
Getting back to business
Although Quebec was hit early on by COVID, especially in its nursing homes, the pandemic has begun to subside. Ethne says Montrealers realized quickly that if they did not observe the province’s restrictions, their way of life might be threatened.
“We behaved ourselves, and we continue to behave ourselves,” she says.
“We like to party so much, and we like to eat so much, and we enjoy socializing so much that when we realized what could be threatened, it was like, ‘woah, woah, woah, you’re talking no more restaurants, where’s my wine bar? We’ve got to deal with these things.’”
Now, her local customers have gotten used to the new sales method at the shop, and the Website is under control. With shipping well-organized, Ethne was able to put her car back in the garage.
What she’d really like, she jokes, is an aerosol pump that can put the aroma of spices into the air outside the shop, luring more customers to their door.
“I know that joy,” she says. “I have it all the time. I’m working on it.” Hopefully, it will be installed when Americans can cross the border again.
In Memoriam
A few weeks ago, I added my friend Julia Reed’s name to my list of upcoming CulinaryWomen of the Week. This was supposed to be the newsletter when I would honor her.
Instead, as you may know, Julia died on Aug. 28, from cancer. She was only 59. Her death coincided with another, widely mourned loss, that of Chadwick Boseman, who also died of cancer, at far too young an age.
“She was unforgettable and irreplaceable,” the novelist Jay McInerney said about her vivid personality, and it seems that all of us have a particular Julia story.
I met Julia in my second job in journalism, at U.S. News & World Report. Even in our 20s, she was already a whirlwind, and I was swept up in her joie de vivre and by her friendship.
We had a few things in common — her father, Clark Reed, was a huge figure in the 20th century Republican Party, in which my parents were state level activists.
Like me, Julia loved interior design. She was the first person I ever knew who had a rental apartment painted in designer colors (“I’ll just put it back when I move out,” she said of her Georgetown flat).
And, we both loved to cook.
I found out that her birthday, Sept. 11, coincided with the birthday of a man I was dating, and I offered to throw them a joint party.
Julia insisted that she wanted to contribute to the event. She came in, dressed to the nines, bearing a crystal bowl of wild rice salad, something I’d never eaten before, and which I’ve made many times since.
Of course, there was a thunderstorm, and a power outage, prompting a search for candles. The chocolate flourless cake I baked for her melted in the heat, and I woke up with the worse hangover of my life, but that simply made the night more memorable.
Our careers diverged for a time, but then, they met up in New Orleans. Julia took a rental place there, then got married, and renovated a house on First Street that was damaged in Katrina.
Its restoration became the subject of a delightful book, and she wrote many more, from essays about the South to beautiful coffee table books about New Orleans. In typical Julia fashion, she even launched a bookstore in Greenville, Mississippi, her home town, sharing quarters with her home decor business.
I was so tickled to see Julia pop up on the New Orleans episode of Somebody Feed Phil, the Netflix show created by Phil Rosenthal.
I knew that Phil and his crew had gone to the Mississippi Delta to visit the home that Julia built there, and tour that fascinating area. (He says the episode will be in the next series of SFP, so keep an eye out.)
Much has been written about Julia since her death, and you shouldn’t miss this lovely remembrance from Jon Meacham in her magazine home, Garden & Gun. It’s become clear to me over the past 10 days how many people enjoyed her work and admired her.
One of the first thoughts I had when I heard the news was the lyric from Hamilton, “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” Julia did that these past 10 years, because at some point, she found out she was running out of time.
But, thankfully she has left behind an archive of stories about her beloved South and inspiration for those of us who need a reminder to keep going. Adieu, Julia. We’ll have drinks again someday.
A public memorial service is being planned. Julia’s family suggests contributions to The Julia Evans Reed Charitable Trust, P.O. Box 894, Greenville, Mississippi 38702.
Become A Better Pie Baker
Pie Camp: The Skills You Need To Make Any Pie You Want
Kate McDermott
If you like baking pie, you probably know about Kate McDermott’s famous pie camps. They used to be held in person, but lately Kate has been teaching online. They sell out regularly, which can be frustrating.
But soon, you’ll be able to find instructions and helpful tips in her new book, Pie Camp. It’s a sequel of sorts to The Art of Pie, which I salivated over just reading the recipes and stories.
Now, I am a failed pie baker. I simply don’t have the knack. But after reading an advance copy of Pie Camp, I think I have the courage to give pie baking another try.
Pie Camp features a dozen master recipes for different crusts and types of pie. There are gluten-free options, ice cream pies and even pies sized for one or two people. (Spoiler alert: you will eat the whole thing.)
Pie Camp officially goes on sale Oct. 6. However, you can pre-order copies now.
Signed copies are available if you contact Kate’s favorite store, Port Book and News in Port Angeles, Washington. By ordering in advance, you’ll receive a 20 percent discount.
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You can get in touch with me at mamayn@aol.com. Stay healthy, wear a mask, and see you next Sunday.