At dawn in the Himalayas, a thin curl of smoke rises from a yak-hair tent. Inside, a grandmother sits cross-legged on the floor, her hands moving with practiced rhythm as she grinds roasted barley into fine flour. She hums softly, the sound of stone against stone echoing like a heartbeat. Outside, her grandson laces his boots, preparing to join other Sherpas on a climb toward the roof of the world. In his pack, there is no energy bar, no packaged gel — only a pouch of tsampa, roasted barley flour kneaded with butter tea, the food that has sustained his people for centuries.
Half a world away, under the wide skies of Alberta, barley sways in golden waves across the prairie. A farmer leans against his truck, watching the wind ripple through the crop. He knows this grain will travel far — some to breweries, some to livestock, some to pantries across the country. What he may not know is that the same barley, in another time and place, carried monks through months of meditation in the mountains and sustained refugees as they crossed frozen passes into India with nothing but tsampa in their satchels.
Barley is a grain with two lives: one deeply ancient, the other quietly modern. And though often overlooked, it has never stopped nourishing those who need it most.
A Grain of Quiet Power
Unlike fashionable superfoods that arrive with fanfare, barley works in silence. It doesn’t glitter like quinoa or boast like chia — but inside each kernel is a remarkable store of nourishment.
Its low glycemic index makes it a slow-burning source of energy, treasured by athletes, climbers, and anyone seeking balance in blood sugar. Its beta-glucan fiber binds cholesterol, protecting the heart. It is full of B vitamins, magnesium, and selenium, nutrients that strengthen not just the body but also the skin and hair, the very things we show to the world. It fills you, grounds you, sustains you — and in doing so, it carries forward a promise of health older than civilization itself.
Barley Across Time
For as long as humans have walked this earth, barley has been close at hand. Roman gladiators ate barley porridge before battle, believing it gave them endurance. In Tibet, monks retreating into caves for months of solitary meditation carried only barley flour and a flask of water, shaping simple balls of tsampa to survive. Refugees, fleeing across snowbound Himalayan passes, lived on the same humble meal, each bite a thread tying them to life.
Barley was never just a crop. It was stamina. It was resilience. It was the quiet strength to keep moving when the mountain grew steep.
Canada’s Fields of Gold
Here in Canada, barley thrives in silence too. Across Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba, it stretches in endless rows, bending with the prairie winds. Canada is one of the world’s largest barley producers — and yet, in our kitchens, it is often forgotten, crowded out by wheat, rice, or oats.
But as more Canadians look back to whole grains and forward to sustainable eating, barley is returning. Its adaptability makes it kind to the soil. It's versatility allows it to slip into soups, salads, breads, and porridges with ease. And when roasted and ground, it becomes tsampa — a food that connects the Canadian prairies with the high Himalayas in a single spoonful.
Remembering Barley
At Ama Tashi Foods, we roast barley just as Himalayan families have done for generations. We grind it into tsampa, honouring a tradition that sustained climbers, monks, and refugees — and now, can sustain modern lives here in Canada.
Barley is more than a grain. It is a story told across mountains and prairies, across centuries and cultures. It is survival and celebration, silence and strength. And while the world may have forgotten it, barley has never forgotten us.
All it asks is to be remembered.
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