Country food jewelry brings comfort, nostalgia to Nunavut fans
Tiny char and ulu, maktaaq on cardboard, charm Iqaluit fashionistas

Erin Faulks is making jewelry to whet your appetite.

These tiny clay pieces by artist Erin Faulks are something worth salivating over. (PHOTOS BY BETH BROWN)

These maktaaq earrings have been known to attract attention from hungry friends. Wear at your own risk.
It’s taken her a few tries, but Erin Faulks has finally mastered how to prepare tunnuq—the fat from tuktu, or caribou.
Lately, she’s been mixing that tunnuq with blackberries to make the tasty traditional treat known as aluk.
But neither the fat nor the berries are actually for eating: only for wearing.
Around two years ago, the Iqaluit-based artist and chef—who said she just celebrated her 10-year “Nunaversary”—took up a pastime mixing her creative and culinary expertise. That is, by making tiny food jewelry.
And her specialty is country food.
“It gives people the feels,” Faulks said, of her little line of clay creations. “Country food, and good food in general, comforts you and reminds people of good times.”
Her mouthwatering wearables all started with a chicken dinner that she gave to a friend. When another friend asked Faulks to make a plate or char, the country food fad took off.
“I made 25 pieces and brought them to a fundraiser at the middle school and they sold out in 20 minutes,” Faulks said.
She has stopped taking requests—because demand can take the fun out of crafting she said—but her country food pendants are by far her best sellers, complete with chopped char, caribou and seal samples, all set on cardboard plates and disks of flooring.
“And anything that has a soya sauce on the side always sells fast,” Faulks said.
For a time she would make mismatched earrings where one stud was a hunk of maktaaq and the other a little bowl of soya sauce.
Wearers had better keep their wits about them though, as Faulk’s mix of cute jewelry and coveted country food is known to attract attention.
“I’ve had ladies comment that they get their ears nibbled when they go to the Legion and wear their maktaaq earrings,” Faulks said, laughing.
As for materials, she orders the teeny ceramic dishes, used for plates of caribou, roast chicken and veggies, or milk and cookies, from a dollhouse distributor.
She started using cut up cardboard and flooring tiles from Baffin Electronics for her country food pieces because, “we don’t eat country food on plates,” she said.
The food is made of Sculpey, a polymer clay that can be worked in your hands and that hardens when it is heated. The clay has to be the right temperature in your hands so it doesn’t get slimy and melt if it’s too hot, or crumble and break if it’s too cold, Faulks said.
To get the perfect shade for char, Faulks mixes clays in orange, white and pink. And to mimic the mottled skin of a narwhal, she swirls up grey, white and black.
She also makes her jewelry with children in mind. Once the pieces are baked and glued together, she sprays them with a waterproof sealant, to make the toy-like food more durable.
“Everything I make you can rinse off or accidentally drop and it’s going to be alright,” Faulks said. Though, maybe don’t drop the china doll dishes.
Like a good meal, her craft also brings people together. Often during winter weekday nights, local crafters will take over the biggest table at the Iqaluit Elks Lodge to scrapbook, sew and create.
But, unlike a good meal, you don’t have to worry about having a napkin on hand. As a child, Faulks said her mother often warned that food was meant for eating, not wearing.
“It was taboo to ‘wear your food’ and have a stain on your shirt,” she said. Faulks is turning that rule on its head.
“Jewellery is beautiful, and so is food. I combined the two to make people nostalgic,” she said. “This is a nice way to wear food.”
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