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Shelves empty of northern fare Jack Danylchuk Northern News Services Published Friday, August 19, 2011
It's been that way since illness forced Karen Hollett to wind down her wildly successful Arctic Wild Harvest internet sales business and shutter the company's retail store in Centre Square Mall. Hollett, with some help from her husband Jeff, built her interest in wild edibles into a company with $300,000 in annual sales. It was growing by 25 per cent a year when she decided to cut it back to gift baskets that she still makes for a charity. "It started as a hobby, then we noticed that it was a cottage industry in the south and thought it would be a great thing, and we could make a few dollars," Jeff said in a recent interview. "The key market is gifts and novelties - people traveling south and wanting to take a bit of the North to friends and relatives, (as) Christmas presents, (or for) tourists, government and industry promotions." Karen Hollett started the business in 1998 out of her home and drew international acclaim. The prime minister's office invited her on a trade mission to Russia in 2002. She didn't have time to go, but the teas she sent were popular. At its peak, the company offered a broad selection of herbal teas, syrups, jams, jellies, juices, candies and berries. Muskox jerky, canned caribou, char from Nunavut, wild smoked salmon from BC, birch syrup from Alaska, and berry sauces from Labrador gave the gift baskets a pan-Northern flavour. Jeff Hollett thinks there is room in the Northwest Territories for two or three companies like Arctic Wild Harvest, but success depends on how much time and effort the operators are prepared to invest in sourcing, packaging, marketing and distributing products. Wild food harvest has caught the interest of the Department of Industry, Tourism and Investment. "We're doing a review leading to the next round of programs that we're funding with the federal government, and wild edibles is an area that we want to put a little more concentration on," said John Colford, an investment and economic analyst with ITI. "There is an opportunity; it's simply a matter of identifying it," said Colford, but he added there are limits to what the territorial government is prepared to invest. Colford said the department will help people with a well-thought-out plan if they need support to get going, "but it comes down to personal commitment and sweat equity - how much your back can tolerate and how many edibles you can pull out of the trees." "If people want to, we have programs that people can access for assistance and support, but we're not actively promoting this as an opportunity," said Colford. "It's self-promoting, and requires a particular type of person and mentality to go out and do it. It's one of those things where people will lead by example rather than having government do it." Wild foods have long been held out as a potential income source in cash-strapped communities where unemployment is high, but the labour required is intensive and resources like berry patches are jealously-guarded secrets. "If we promoted the exploitation of wild edibles across the territory we would run into conflicts with small communities," he said. The government has long experience with wild food processors, Colford said, and recalled an Inuvik entrepreneur 30 years ago who produced a first run of 300 bottles of cranberry jam flavoured with bourbon. "He sold out overnight, but he couldn't get a another supply of berries. He was offering $10 a bucket - a fair whack of cash at the time - but it's also a lot of berries. It came down to labour and commitment and he couldn't get those. That's where the failing is. People in the communities are busy with hunting, fishing and gathering berries for their own use." Rewards from wild northern edibles go beyond what consumers will pay for new flavours from exotic sources. Words and illustrations are enough for some. When they started Arctic Wild Harvest, the Holletts looked for guides to northern plants, and often referred to the book Harvesting the Northern Wild. Published by Outcrop Communications 25 years ago, the book is a collector's item, recently offered by a Yukon book dealer at $100 for his least-expensive copy. "Wow!" said author Marilyn Walker, "I should have kept more copies."
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