Category Archives: Food

In which I get it right.

02 Thursday Aug 2012

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As I wrote earlier, when we were sitting in the airport, my lovely bride happened upon a postcard for a perfectly wonderful B&B. And as I wrote, I through my infinite wisdom had booked us for three nights in this wonderful place. Am I good or what?

We are now on our way to this wonderful Newfoundland version of Brigadoon, but without bagpipes. Since we are departing from the southern tip of the Avalon Peninsula and driving up to Port Rexton near Trinity, about 260 miles. Not a bad drive, 4-5 hours with stops especially if we can find a Tim Horton’s.

Typical Newfoundland bog. (eoearth.org.)

Newfoundland has been settled almost exclusively on the coast line. It is a very big coast. As we drive from Burin north, we travel mostly inland. Lots of bogs, ponds, no moose sightings, and lots of rocks and birch trees. Since everything revolved around fishing, there is hardly anything resembling a town. This is not to say no one lives out there. We pass small enclaves of homes along the way. Just what they do for employment is something we haven’t been able to determine. Still, I wouldn’t mind living there either.

As we head towards that days destination, we start to see more small towns. They are different from the outports since they are still a ways inland from the water. But it lets us know we’re almost there. And then we crest a hill and a sign for our destination appears. Hot damn! This is where I really start to look like I know what I’m doing on this trip. Fisher’s Loft is even better in real life than the beautiful image on their postcard. The views are spectacular and it’s getting on towards dinner.

We check in to our room (it’s a suite!) with an incredible vista of the bay with some small islands in it. In the distant is a fog partially covering a small mountain/hill(?) – beautiful whatever its nomenclature. We clean up and go downstairs to enjoy a drink on the front porch of the main building. At the bar is a picture of Kevin Spacey and the entire crew of the film The Shipping News. They stayed there. Oh, yes, this is getting better by the minute.

Fisher’s Loft (been-seen.com)

We finish our drinks and head into the dining room. OK, this is getting ridiculous. The dining room is decorated beautifully with hand-made furniture from a local craftsman. His furniture also occupies our room. Wait, it gets even better.

The menus arrive and this is foodie heaven. And locavore heaven. They grow all their own produce. And wine heaven. Oh hell, it’s just heaven! And this is just dinner! We almost can’t wait for breakfast. The food is marvelous.

Breakfast doesn’t disappoint – along with regular fare, there are fresh pastries from the oven and partridgeberry jam. I wrote about partridgeberry jam in an earlier post, but it bears repeating. This jam is incredible.

I don’t want to leave. I wonder if they need a groundskeeper!

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Partridgeberry jam: Nectar of the Gods.

04 Monday Jun 2012

Posted by in Food, Newfoundland

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I’m not getting out much anymore. Sounds almost like a song. No, that’s “Don’t get around much anymore.” Good try. Johnny, show Bruce what he’s won.

No, I’m not getting out. There is a lot of work to do on this book. While I’m deeply involved in now creating the bones for “Arn? Narn.”, I find myself mightily homesick for Newfoundland. As I’ve written before, it has been a singularly transformative experience. To requote my wife from an earlier blog entry: “Where you’re born is not necessarily where you’re from.” Ergo – homesick.

I’m everyday looking at images from a land I’ve grown to love immensely. And it is so far away my heart feels as if it will break. I do miss it that much. (Little man on my shoulder – “Oh, grow the hell up!”)

OK, sniff-sniff, I will.

While I’m printing the photographs for the book, I am still keeping up with news from Newfoundland on the internet. I want to keep it as current as possible and include anything that might impact the story.

I see ads for restaurants, coffee shops, B&B’s, whale watches, etc. Some of these I’ve been to and remember them fondly. Other ads are just that, ads. Ads for car dealers; ads for hospital supplies (always good to know where you can get a splint in a hurry); and ads for other sundry items that I’ll never need. Whoa! What’s this?

It’s an ad for all things Newfoundland. And in that ad, partridgeberry jam. Now, if you’ve never had partridgeberry jam, write your will out now, pick out your box, and get your affairs in order. There’s no need to go on living. It’s that good.

This is it. The real stuff!

In other parts of the world, the partridgeberry in known as the lingonberry. I don’t know – that sounds like something you might call someone who’s a little drunk or just not with it. With slurred speech: “That guy’s a lingonberry!” Now, partridgeberry – not so – there’s a nobility to that.

“I’ll have the scones with the partridgeberry jam on it, James.” That sounds proper, doesn’t it? Now, replace it with lingonberry and you might as well be living in a trailer. “Puh-leeze pass the lingonberry jelly, Paw!” No, it has to be partridgeberry. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Woo-hoo! I called this store and they will ship it to the US. Of course who knows what customs would do when they got their hands on it. I can see it now – you’re driving through the gate at the US/Canada border and the Canadian guard is slathering my partridgeberry jam all over his Tim Horton donut while asking you for your papers! Homeland security my foot!

I order 4 jars of this edible soul salve and wait until it passes through the gauntlet of regulation and illicit tasting by border guards. It arrives. The top of each jar is covered with a cute, red piece of fabric. How precious! Tear that $%$!* off and give me the jam, damn it!

Once opened, once tasted, calm and contentment are restored. All that from just a little jar of partridgeberry jam. Yeah. it’s really that good. Yes, b’y.

Part 2: Kicking back at Red’s Lounge…

03 Tuesday Apr 2012

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The afternoon was spent walking around the island taking pictures of local signage, laundry lines, wind turbines, boats (mostly in dry dock as there was no fishing here either), and coves. If it moved I photographed it. If it stood still, I photographed it. Yup, there I was again, taking pictures of nothing! But really good pictures of nothing if I say so myself. It moved, it stood still, it was a wind turbine, I photographed it.

Sidebar -There’s a woman who paints all the house numbers and signs and mailboxes on the island; a limited growth opportunity indeed, yet the local art scene is definitely defined by her! And it was sort of like being in her island-wide showroom. She was that prolific. Certainly she had her themes down: boats, flags, fish, propellers, anchors, etc.

So the light was now fading and I wasn’t far behind it. I was in need of sustenance and it was too early to go back to the B&B for a formal dinner. Since I now knew the island like the back of my hand, it was back to Red’s. I was going to check out if they had any beer left. Photographing clotheslines creates a mighty thirst.

Lucky for me they had some left. I was welcomed back by Gerard and the locals (sounds like a perfect bar band!) whom I’d met earlier and introduced to some new (to me) citizens. Someone had gone hunting and brought back some fresh moose meat. They had the aforethought to grind it up, make mooseburgers, and serve them to customers. And that’s how I came to have my first (and probably last) mooseburger. It was OK if you don’t mind eating the inspiration for a cartoon, but personally, I liked caribou better. (Please don’t tell my fiends at PETA!)

As I mentioned earlier, I stood out. I was not from there and one citizen had taken note of that and his concern was quite obvious. I couldn’t hear what he was saying to the others, but the not-so-furtive and mildly hostile glances could not be overlooked. Hmmmm – what to do? It would clear soon enough.

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Me and Homer….no, not Simpson!

12 Monday Mar 2012

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Now that I’d returned to the mainland which is Newfoundland proper, I was to head to the southern coast of Newfoundland to catch another ferry to another island. Yeah, yeah, I know…

(Courtesy Terry’s Bayside Getaway)

But, I had a lot a traveling to do in front of me. First south, then west, then southeast, and then finally south again until I reached where I would spend the night before getting on the boat. And that would take the entire day. A very long day. Aw c’mon, this can’t be the way to Burgeo, can it?

Before I proceed with this retelling of Homer’s Odyssey, let me recap some earlier posts for background material. First, Newfoundland is big…damn big. Secondly, much of it is still wild without a lot of settlement on it save for the coasts. Third, there aren’t many places to stop for food, directions, or even meaningless conversations over coffee. When you do find a place, make sure you get some take along food and drink, anything. For me it was chocolate-covered cookies and water. Did I mention it’s big? Fourth, where you can stop will probably have the most bizarre collection of chips available, that you might not want to sample unless you’ll be near a toilet. Fifth, while the maps are quite accurate, nothing prepares you for the enormous space similar to going what Australians call their Outback but here is just out there and out there are absolutely no kangaroos. Sorry, Mate! Hopefully you get the picture. I did mention it’s big, didn’t I?

This is the first time I’d be traveling in Newfoundland without a view of the sea nearby and that’s a bit disconcerting. All my previous travels here have never been far away from water and I’m missing the outports and all their character and stories.

Just brush, bogs, some trees, and a lot of rock. (Courtesy Natural Resources Canada)

While the original intent for my book “Arn? Narn?” was to be an exploration of isolation, nothing had prepared me for this. This part of the island is rugged and almost barren; more rock than brush, some trees, many bogs, few seen moose or caribou, and lonely, very lonely. There was no radio reception out here and I was grateful for the working cd player. And because it was so remote, beyond what the odometer told me, I had no real idea of where I was going. Friends have also told me that, but I digress. And the cookies were running perilously low. If I was going to find my way back, I would probably need them for crumbs to leave a trail.

Onward I drove. From Fogo though Birchy Bay, Norris Arm, to Deer Lake through to Pasadena (no I couldn’t have traveled that far!) then Corner Brook, right hand turn at Barachois Pond Provincial Park into Burgeo, my resting place for the night. Well over 650 miles this day. Resting place indeed. Try crash and burn and wake me next year place. But I won’t need any more cookies for this part of the trip, oh no, – I’m going on another boat! Maybe some Dramamine though.

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Canary in the global coal mine.

05 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by in Discovery, Fish, Food, History, Newfoundland

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Currently indigenous to Newfoundland are moose, caribou, salmon, and some remaining cod. There are no naturally residing canaries on the island. However, in this case, the island itself was the canary.

Why is Newfoundland important? In much the same way the canary in a coal mine is important. That bird is an early warning of impending trouble. Ignore it at your own peril. In 1992, that is what happened in Newfoundland. Heard, seen, and ignored – just the opposite of the military phrase HUA(!) – Heard, Understood and Acknowledged. They (the government) heard the canary, saw it laying there, and essentially said, “Don’t pay that any attention” until it was too late. It was mismanagement writ large.

So, what was this canary? It was the disappearance of cod stocks. Stocks that had been fished for over 500 years and sustained Newfoundland throughout that time. Then in 1992, the government realized that the cod stocks had plummeted to perilously low levels and imposed a 10 year moratorium on cod fishing. Historically, they knew if left alone for 5-6 years, the stocks should return to previous levels. They didn’t. In actuality, they were in worse shape than before.

In those first 10 years, because there was no fishing, 20% of Newfoundland’s population left the island. It was an out-migration the likes of which had never been seen. And the lack of fishing created much hardship throughout the province. Newfoundlanders continue leaving the island in search of work returning occasionally for vacation. The Newfoundland musical group Ennis addresses this beautifully in their song, “Fortunate Ones.”

Now 20 years later, the moratorium is still in place. But then in 2006, 14 years after the original moratorium was put in place, Professor Boris Worm of Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia published a paper that received world-wide notice. In this paper he predicted that by the middle of this century, the entire global stock of wild fish will be in total collapse. This is certainly the result of over-fishing; there is also growing evidence that ocean acidification may be contributing to this as well. Either way one looks at it, both of those causes are man-made.

The “canary” was laying there, gasping for breath and people essentially just walked on by. It has taken too long to realize what this means.

In the short term, forget about your seafood dinner, that isn’t going to happen unless you’ll be willing to take out a mortgage on it. Any fish we’ll have will come from farmed stocks and their purity is suspect.

In the long term, your guess is as good as anyone’s. No one knows what will happen to the seas themselves because of this shock to its eco-system.

So much for Red Lobster!

Newf-a-licious!

23 Thursday Feb 2012

Posted by in Culture, Food, Newfoundland, Observations

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Newf-a-licious – it sounds like it could be a TV show on Bravo, E!, or Oxygen. Happily, it’s not that at all. Instead, it’s a word just coined to describe native Newfoundland cuisine. Oh, all the expected dishes are available and there are some very fine restaurants pushing the envelope for the foodies out there. But it’s the ones that really define Newfoundland gastronomical culture I want to share.

It’s a rare person who doesn’t know what cod, a favorite of mine, is. Fish and chips is a ubiquitous dish in many places around the world. But it’s an even rarer (non-Newfoundlander) person who knows what cod cheeks are. I’ve already written about scruncheons, but how about seal flipper pie? Or brewis? Figgy duff?

Cod cheeks are pretty self-explanatory if not easily attainable in the lower 48. It’s the fleshy part of the head considered to be a delicacy when cooked. Great late at night with some local brew.

Brewis – why, that’s no more than than hard tack (a bread) soaked in water and then boiled with salt cod and/or fat pork. This could very well be on the American Heart Association’s list of foods to eat in moderation and it’s very popular. It’s often the main course.

Or seal flipper pie. Of course you would want it fresh, so you’d go down to the docks in St. John’s and buy fresh seal flippers from the trucks, right off the boats. For many, it’s considered a delicacy. It wasn’t my favorite.

And then there’s figgy duff, a dessert, which really is quite nice. It’s a boiled pudding with raisins and saturated with molasses and was in the past thought of as a luxury.

Lest you think everything is made from lesser ingredients, there is caribou and moose. Caribou sausage is really good. The moose burger to my tastes needed a lot of extras like cheese, onions, etc; but not bad.

But wait, one must wash this down with a beverage, right? And besides all the usual alcoholic suspects including Screech, there’s local beer from the Quidi Vidi Brewing Co. right in St. John’s. I’m happy to say, I’ve sampled most of them and quaffed even more of certain ones and enjoyed them all.

Beer is not the only beverage made in St. John’s. Vodka made from iceberg water is very popular. Dan Ackroyd, he of Saturday Night Live, Blues Brothers, and Ghostbuster fame has made a vodka distilled from very pure iceberg water. It comes in a crystal skull (don’t ask why) and is sold thoughout the US.

There’s more but that’s the idea. At the end of the day, it’s all Newf-a-licious. Just don’t forget the beer or vodka.

I’ll have the Shiraz de Fogo, please.

15 Wednesday Feb 2012

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If grapes grew in Newfoundland, this is what I imagine they would look like.

Indigenous to Newfoundland among other plants are the partridgeberry/lingonberry, bakeapple, elephanthead lousewort, mint, thistle, and pearly everlasting. Some of these I’d known of, well, maybe two or three. The others were new to me. But, nowhere on the island, not on any lists of flora, were there any grapes. And the same is true of Fogo Island on the north shore of Newfoundland.

So imagine my surprise when my hosts Glenn and Mathilda, while having me over for dinner, brought out a bottle of homemade wine. My experience with homemade wine has not been very good. Not that I’ve made it myself; I’m always too eager to open the bottle than wait for it to age properly. What I’ve had is mostly forgettable; some I’m still trying to forget. So it was with no small apprehension that I awaited it’s opening and subsequent decantation. What was it made from? I was already trying in advance to formulate a response to what I just knew was going to be horrible. These were genuinely nice, thoughtful people who wanted to share with me their craft and I did not want to hurt their feelings.

In anticipation of the dinner and as an early thanks to them, I had brought a bottle of wine as a gift to them. They opened it and we drank from that. It was a nice, unpretentious wine that certainly would not screw up our meal. It was a great dinner. We laughed, and talked about our families, etc. and went though the first bottle rather quickly.

Now, their bottle came out. Trapped! It had a nice label on it – Shiraz, it said with some information about its winemakers, Glenn and Mathilda. It looked OK; nice deep red color, it didn’t even smell bad. Actually, it smelled pretty good. I could not avoid this any longer, now came the moment of truth. I took a sip. I took a bigger sip. I then took a gulp. It was GOOD. I asked for another glass. My inner wino took over.

Now I don’t think Napa has much to worry about. Glenn and Mathilda’s production is rather small. But damn, it’s good. Who woulda thunk it? Newfoundland wine – yet another reason to go there. Not like I needed any more.

Man Cave by the sea.

27 Tuesday Dec 2011

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New Year’s Eve in a shanty sounds a lot worse than it really is. Shanty doesn’t have the same connotation in rural Newfoundland as it does in the States. A shanty is the small building/house/cabin on the coast used by fishermen as a residence when going to and coming from the sea. It is for the most part a home-away-from-home. And oftentimes the subject of cute and quaint calendars and post cards of lands far-away.

But come the holidays and New Year’s Eve, all that changes. The shanty becomes the Newfoundland equivalent of a man-cave by the sea for the duration plus. And one can only speculate on behaviors conducted. The good news is that it’s usually far enough away from the children and pets.

Celebrations – oh, yes. Singing and dancing – yes b’y. Eating and drinking, why the hell not? Fishing – probably not much. But when it’s cold, windy, wet and/or snowy, and more, and the holidays to boot, why would you want to do anything but the aforementioned activities? Consequently, inebriation is often the result. A common comment then heard might be “Goin’ on a tear, me son?” translated as “partying with enthusiasm are we?” Count on it. After all, it is the new year.

Lobsters and a screw cap.

15 Thursday Dec 2011

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On the western coast of Newfoundland, I drive through such towns as Cow Head, Sally’s Cove, Three Mile Rock, (not to be confused with the atomic town in Pennsylvania), and Spudgels Cove. (Who was Spudgels that he was important enough to have a cove named after him?) Each one of these has it’s own personality waiting to be discovered by an intrepid traveler such as me. But not now as I’m on a quest. I’ve learned fresh lobster can be had inexpensively here. I make a short stop to see The Arches Provincial Park. This is a natural rock arch formation acting as a gateway to the ocean. I think however, most people probably just go around it to get there. But it does form a wonderful backdrop for new photographs.

The sea is starting to kick up into what will develop on the next day into a pretty fierce storm. Unfortunately, most of the lobster traps on the western coast will be lost.

But for this day, the lobstermen are making the most of their efforts. No longer permitted to fish for cod, they’ve turned to lobstering and crabbing. The lobstering season is very short, lasting only 5-6 weeks. In this time, the lobstermen will catch enough to deliver to the fishery and also help feed their family throughout the year. However, according to the lobstermen, eating lobster all year long gets old fast. When asked what they do the rest of the year, his reply was, “Well, we just —- around.” OK, sounds good. But in the meantime, I’m told if I go down to the fishery which is conveniently located near the cabin in which I’m staying, they’ll cook me up some lobsters fresh and really cheap. This is getting better all the time.

Down to the fishery I go and place my gluttonous order of two(!) lobsters to be picked up at 7:00 PM. Back to the cabin, drop off my equipment, get a bottle of wine from the market, and then pick up my lobsters. I go to the counter and pick up my dinner and am charged the princely sum of $ 11.00! Cooked and ready to eat! And the wine has a screw cap! I’m in heaven.

Scrunchions and my new BFF.

12 Saturday Nov 2011

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Pretty much every culture has a way of maximizing their foods and recycling heretofore inedible scraps of food detritus. And if it’s a fancy restaurant, they’ll give it a posh name and charge dearly for it. How else could one explain veal cheeks? Please do not confuse this with cod cheeks; the concept is the same, the cost is not.

This leads me to the ubiquitous Newfoundland delicacy know as the scrunchion. These are small pieces of pork fatback, that might normally be tossed away, but are fried until rendered and crispy. They’re often used as a flavoring or even a condiment over other foods such as fish or potatoes or the local favorite fish and brewis. For those out there with a theological or Quebecois bent, they are often called orielles de Christ or Christ ears. I’m not certain I want to know why.

 

And this, at my first lunch in Newfoundland, was when I was introduced to scrunchions. I was meeting for the first time the photographer who I had befriended by phone the year before when doing my research. I visited his studio and what I thought would be a cordial introduction turned into a 3.5 hour lunch and discussion. We photographers can talk! What a genuinely nice guy and a really good photographer. We went across the street to a local pub to have lunch. And there was my first encounter with scrunchions. They were sprinkled over my fish and chips. The F&C: good. Scrunchions: like fine scotch – an acquired taste. They were different. And that’s all I’m going to say on that at this time.

My new acquaintance was soon to become my new friend. His help and guidance was invaluable. I might still be up there now driving around, dodging moose, looking for who knows what (and I’m not saying that’s really a bad thing up there) if not for his direction. His wife was just plain charming. We got on so well, we met for drinks later that evening. I was experiencing the unbelievable but natural hospitality of Newfoundlanders. This was going to be great.

You want chips with that?

08 Tuesday Nov 2011

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Newfoundland is not like anywhere else. That’s a good thing. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it’s big – 41,000 square miles of cod-loving goodness. And traveling around the province in the small outports, one can get a real flavor for the island. But try and get something to eat and you’ll find the options limited, some familiar and some perhaps a bit odd. (My favorite was the industrial strength, chocolate-covered graham cracker cookies that stayed fresh for many days and miles.)

First of all, there are no small villages/towns with neighborhood Starbucks. If you walk into a small local grocery store, you likely will not find coffee: soda, yes; coffee, no.  That seems to be reserved for the TCH (Trans Canadian Highway) rest stops. And then, it’s usually Tim Horton’s. In real life, Tim was a hockey player in the NHL, playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs, NY Rangers, Pittsburgh Penguins, and the Buffalo Sabres. After he retired, he founded Tim Horton’s coffee and donuts which ARE infinitely better than DD, in my opinion and they open real early.

Photo – C.Meisterman

So you can’t get coffee off the beaten track which most of Newfoundland is… off the beaten track. But it seems you can always get chips of some sort. Wondrous, fantastical, otherworldly chips . One could feast all day on heart-arresting fare such as Fromage Mordant; Sweet Chili Heat (sort of sounds like a South American dancer!); Roast Chicken chips; Ketchup chips(!); Habanero chips; Chili Cheese Lime chips; Dill Pickle chips; Honey Mustard chips; Doritos 1st Degree Burn Blazin’ Jalapeno chips; Smoky Bacon chips; the punk-rock sounding Blair’s Death Rain (my favorite name) chips of various flavors – the name is enough to make one reconsider their own mortality; and one I won’t be trying next time I’m up there – Fries and Gravy chips! Actually, they might be pretty good.

So no coffee, but chips…as far as the eye can see.

Cod almighty!

05 Saturday Nov 2011

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A one cent postal stamp.

This is the biggest fish story ever and it’s all true. Really. For over 500 years, cod reigned supreme in Newfoundland. Cod was so plentiful that it was thought that it would never run out. This fish was what the Newfoundland economy was based upon. It, as much as the sea, informed the culture.

And inform it, it did! Commerce for sure, music, comedy (the Codco comedy troupe), art, food (the number of things one can do with cod are staggering, see below, as are some of the ways it’s prepared!), the postal service, and currency (cod as actual currency, then as the coins and paper we’re used to. I’m not sure you would want to keep much of the original stuff in your wallet on a warm day though.). Coins were called by their value: a 25 cent coin was a 25 cent piece. Question: if a coin had a cod on it, could it be called a … oh, you fill in the blank. Postage denominations were varied as were the illustrations. There was of course the requisite cod as well as seals (the cute ones), dogs, various other now dead, possibly famous people, and naturally, the queen. Whether or not they all ate cod is up for debate, but one thing is certain: the cod had as respected a place in Newfoundland as the queen. If they did eat cod, the following may have been on their plates for Sunday dinner.

This could be called a tongue and cheek statement, but it’s really a recipe for cod tongues and cheeks. The cheeks and tongues are considered the most delicate part of the fish and simple to prepare after separating them from the cod proper. They are dragged through corn meal and then fried. Mmmm, good eating. Have them with a side of scrunchions too. Y’s b’y!

Joe Batt’s Arm… not necessarily a limb.

24 Saturday Sep 2011

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When I started my research for this book, as then yet unnamed, I wanted to get an idea of the geography and how people lived in Newfoundland. One of the first things I obtained was a map and that in itself was quite entertaining. It seemed like the Newfoundlander sense of humor had a lot to do with the names of the outports (fishing villages). The capital is named normally enough, St. Johns. There are the towns of Corner Brook, Marystown, Glovertown, and St. Lawrence – all whose names would not be unusual in many places.

Then came the names that were a bit different. Names such as: Bay Bulls, Frenchman’s Cove, Gambo, Burgeo, and Harbour Breton. And many more. Then came the names that were my first clue that this was going to be a special place. These included: Fortune, Witless Bay, Ireland’s Eye, Grand Bank, Twillingate, and Port au Choix. Further investigation led to: Seldom and Little Seldom, Tilting,  St. Jones Within, Leading Tickles, Cow Head, Nameless Cove, Farewell, Joe Batt’s Arm, Heart’s Content, and Dildo. Imagine the t-shirts you might bring back. In planning the trips, it was hard not to include all of them for the sheer pleasure of saying I was there.

But a map certainly would not be enough research for this project. All of the many books I read were invaluable to me, understandably some more than others. I had read Annie Proulx’s The Shipping News years earlier and enjoyed it immensely, but it had not created any interest in Newfoundland. Though, after I was well into my research, I re-read it, understood it even more clearly, and now with a small base of knowledge appreciated it that much more.

The books which were the most influential are: An Innocent in Newfoundland by David W. McFadden – a wonderfully entertaining and descriptive first-person accounting of his trip through Newfoundland; Tilting by Robert Mellin – a celebration of eastern coast fishing villages – Tilting on the island of Fogo in this case; Cod by Mark Kurlansky – an absolutely engrossing and funny historical tome complete with recipes (!) about the role cod played in the world; and Jim DeFede’s The Day The World Came To Town (9/11 in Gander Newfoundland), a joyous and heart-breaking account of the unbelievable natural hospitality and generosity of Newfoundlanders when 38 jetliners were rerouted to Gander, Newfoundland after 9/11.

OK, so now I knew a little about Newfoundland and my knowledge was growing daily. I read the St. John’s, Newfoundland newspaper, The Telegram, on line every day so I could keep up with current events. Truly, this entire project would have been a lot more difficult if it wasn’t for the internet. I’m fairly certain I could not have found those books locally.

As I mentioned, the book Cod has recipes – here’s one of them:

Cod Roe - Fed to Frenchman or to Fish:

        Roes of Cod well salted and Pickled are here neglected but are said to yield a good price in France to make Sawce withall.

        When the same are to be used, bruise them betwixt two trenchers, and beat them up with vinegar. White Wine etc. then let them stew or simmer over a gentle  fire, with Anchovies and other Ingredients used for Sawce, putting the Butter well beat thereto: We our selves on the Coasts use the Roes of Fresh Cod for sawce.                    Courtesy of: John Collins, Salt and Fishery, 1682.

Yum. I think.