A few nights ago I walked down to The Art Gallery of Nova Scotia1 after dinner to see the Maud Lewis art exhibition that has settled in Halifax after traveling across Canada. All Nova Scotians know the work of Lewis and the story of her life lived in a tiny clapboard home on the southern tip of Nova Scotia where she created colourful, nostalgic paintings despite the rheumatoid arthritis that crippled her body. We love her black cats nestled in bright tulips, her winter scenes of oxen in the snow, and the fact that Sally Hawkins played her perfectly in the 2017 movie Maudie2. But this exhibition, with previously unseen work from private collections, was extra special. We saw delicate Christmas cards Lewis made with her mother, seasonal landscapes from new perspectives and best of all, paintings on large black panels - house shutters created for private clients - that made her work pop. Imagine delicate birds dancing around a water fountain, or a wishing well wrapped in flowers flanking the windows of your home? We all need colour and whimsy in our lives.
I made grilled sandwiches before I left the house. I was trying to recreate the colourful, whimsical, flavourful sandwich I had while away last month in British Columbia. The sandwich came from a little café in the basement of a mini mall on the unsexy side of Whistler Village. My sister Jessie, a regular, eats this sandwich every weekend after skiing. She first experienced it two years ago at a mountain biking camp, where lunch was provided. Jessie had requested a vegetarian meal and wondered why she’d been given a pulled pork sandwich. “It’s not pulled pork”, the sandwich deliverer said with an eye roll. “It’s BBQ'd jackfruit.” Jessie is polite. “Oh yes of course,” she replied, having no idea what jackfruit was, or that it can be barbecued. So she ate it anyway, and was blown away.
Jessie searched for that sandwich for two years. Her only clue was that it came from a café somewhere in Whistler. She eventually found it at The Bunker, a cafe in the basement of a mini mall.
Jackfruit was also new to me. I’ve since learned it’s a tropical fruit belonging to the same family as figs and mulberries. Under its thick green, bumpy skin is a fruit with stringy flesh popular in the vegetarian world for its meat-like texture. It can be eaten raw or cooked, and the seeds are edible too. I found it canned in brine in the international section of the grocery store. It was a weird move for me - buying canned tropical fruit to fry up in BBQ sauce for a sandwich - but sometimes you have to do things for the sake of flavour and whimsy.
The components of the sandwich are: BBQ’ed jackfruit, havarti, roasted red pepper, pesto aioli, greens, and my favourite - purple cabbage.
Cabbage has been having a moment around here lately. The other day I spotted My PEI Cabbage Cookbook, a little spiral bound green book, set aside behind the counter at my local bookstore. The author, Ann Thurlow, created the cookbook during the pandemic when restaurants were closed and up to three million pounds of island grown cabbages were going unsold. So Thurlow collected recipes from around the island - from Vera’s Cabbage Rolls to Taiwanese Style Kimchi submitted by the Buddhist Nuns of PEI - and made a book. Thurlow sent a copy to Sam Sifton, food editor at The New York Times, who tweeted about it, Lindsay Jones3 broke the story in the Globe and Mail, then CBC’s The Current4 picked it up, interviewing Thurlow and to her delight, Sam Sifton too. Sales skyrocketed.
I bet Thurlow would love this sandwich, especially the shards of tender cabbage layered between the red peppers and shredded jackfruit. I love it for its whimsy, colourful palette and flavour combinations. It might go viral.
A Riff on The Bunker’s BBQ’d Jackfruit Sandwich
BBQ'd jackfruit aside, the ingredients for this sandwich are quick and easy:
-I used mayonnaise instead of aioli - had to get to that art exhibition! It worked, but imagine this sandwich with pesto aioli. A flavour bomb.
-roasted red peppers, from a jar
-spinach, or whatever greens you have
-sliced havarti
-¼ of a purple cabbage, thinly sliced and sautéed gently in a pan with a little olive oil and a pinch of salt. The high amount of fibre in cabbage (and all cruciferous vegetables) can make digestion difficult. Cooking cabbage, even just a little before eating, kick starts the digestion process, making things more… comfortable for everyone
-sliced bread, your favourite
-a little butter for grilling sandwiches
For two- three sandwiches, prepare the BBQ’d jackfruit by sautéing half a finely sliced red onion (about ½ cup) in a frypan in a few teaspoons of olive oil. Add 1 teaspoon brown sugar, 1/2 teaspoon paprika, ½ teaspoon cumin, ½ teaspoon of chili powder and 1 big pinch of salt. Stir everything together as the onions gently soften. Meanwhile, drain a 540g can of jackfruit (if packed in brine, rinse it well) and tip pieces of fruit into the softening onion mixture. Cook slowly, stirring and shredding fruit with a spoon as it softens, for 30 minutes or so. About halfway through the cooking, add ⅓ - ½ cup of your favourite barbecue sauce to the mixture, stirring well. Add more sauce if the jackfruit seems dry.
To make the sandwiches, layer everything together, spread a little butter on the outside of the bread, and grill (I pulled out Noah’s panini press). Eat immediately, standing at the counter.
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I was amazed that Jackfruit could be used in such a way. I've only ever seen it in Queensland (Australia) and South East Asia, but its something we often see in small baskets in the veggie section of our local supermarket as we have a high density of Asian students living in our suburb.
I'm sorely tempted, especially as I love purple cabbage (and lovely ruby red radicchio).