What comes to mind when you think of our folklore?
On my side, quickly quickly, there is La Bottine Sourieuse, the hats of Loco Locass and the Bonhomme Carnaval. Let’s say it’s a meager sample of highly important traditions. For the Conseil québécois du patrimoine vivant, “trad culture” includes activities as diverse as herbalism, blacksmithing and the construction of ice canoes… It embodies our invisible culture.
“I like the word folklore, launches Christine Bricault from the outset. But for some, it comes with hints of cheesiness and we work hard to show that all these practices, before being torches of identity, are art. »
For 30 years, the Conseil québécois du patrimoine vivant has overseen the development of various cultural practices passed down from generation to generation. Christine Bricault is the training coordinator there. It organizes events so that professionals can deepen their knowledge, whatever their specialty, beadwork, fiber dyeing or traditional harmonica, for example.
For some time now, she has been working on the brand new training offered by the organization: a course in artisanal milling that could well change the world.
With the millers and apprentice millers, we are changing the order of the break! It was really midnight minus one…
Christine Bricault, training coordinator at the Conseil québécois du patrimoine
For over 200 years, the trade of miller has been passed down from master to apprentice. However, the next generation is slowly disappearing. We may have ancestral mills in operation, but what use will they be if no one knows how to make them work?
To remedy the situation, the Conseil québécois du patrimoine vivant has created the first artisanal milling training course in the history of Québec, with some twenty experts able to teach the architecture of mills, the management of vermin, grain production and many other important information.
Launched on February 3, the 45-hour theoretical training is offered to 25 participants who will begin a practical internship in April. Their background is surprisingly diverse! There are bakers, farmers, historians with a thirst for concrete facts, jacks of all trades, engineers who want to change their lives…
“Several students want to give meaning to their work,” says Christine Bricault. The role of miller is difficult and they knew it when they signed up, but they also knew that a mill is important for a region. »
We are not in the idea of preserving an old profession, but of preserving a useful profession that will not age.
Christine Bricault, training coordinator at the Conseil québécois du patrimoine
Among these people in search of meaning, Renaude Samson.
PHOTO PROVIDED BY RENAUDE SAMSON
Renaud Samson
The 40-year-old was working in human resources when, last fall, she wondered what the next stage of her life would be like… As she has been making her bread for 20 years – “sometimes with satisfaction, sometimes with frustration” -, she became an apprentice baker in an establishment in Bas-Saint-Laurent.
“I thought that training in artisanal milling would be a great opportunity to master what happens before bread is made! »
What impresses him, for the moment, is the short circuit.
To me, it doesn’t make sense to use flour that comes from the prairies! With traditional milling, I know the farmer who produces the grain as much as the miller who grinds it because everything happens on the side… Knowing the actors who take part in the process gives meaning when you knead your bread.
Renaud Samson
And this is all the more important in the context of the climate crisis.
This is what prompted Lyam Pelletier to enroll in the training, after his environmental studies: “I want to know how this food processing can be resilient and rooted in our communities. One thing is certain, I would like to have a job that can have a real environmental impact. »
PHOTO EDOUARD PLANTE-FRÉCHETTE, LA PRESSE ARCHIVES
Emilise Lessard-Therrien
Same thing for Émilie Lessard-Therrien. In 2018, the young woman bought a mill with her husband. The same year, she went into politics without really believing in her chances… Then, she found herself in the National Assembly.
“We continued to grind because the demand for local flour is great in Témiscamingue,” she says. But in the fall of 2021, a mouse nest was found in a pocket of 300 kilos of grain. It was too much! We held it at arm’s length, we lacked knowledge, we had two young children and I was involved in politics with Québec solidaire. We put the project on hold. »
In the last elections, defeat. The training in artisanal milling was just right, let’s say. From the first lesson, offered at the Légaré mill (in operation since the 18e century!), Émilise Lessard-Therrien realized one thing…
“I spent four years in politics talking about the climate crisis, but there I saw one of the keys to our food autonomy… This mill works with the power of water and it makes flour all year round! »
It’s not just folklore, we’re talking about tools that last and that promote our collective resilience. We must continue to keep these traditions alive.
Emilise Lessard-Therrien
Becoming a miller requires five to seven years of practice, Christine Bricault explained to me. Fortunately, the interest is great; the Conseil québécois du patrimoine vivant had to refuse registrations for its first training.
“I think people are more and more aware that a mill is about sustainable development. It just thumbs its nose at the current system. »
For Émilise Lessard-Therrien, artisanal milling can even contribute to the development of the regions.
“You make bread that tastes like the corner of the country where the wheat is grown! In the great discussion about nationalism, I would like us to talk more about pride in the territory, the diversity of our land and our know-how. This is true for milling as it is for traditional music. For all that has kept our communities alive, basically…”
Inspirational, all that, right?