chromedome

For any Canadians who have been holding off, Best Buy has them on for $229.99 until Thursday. I'm not quite ready to leap yet, myself...I've spent the last three years downsizing and still have far too much stuff to fit into my (large) kitchen, and also have a few other demands on my cash flow. Also, I'm dithering over whether this or the Instant Pot will be my next bit of self-indulgence. I have to say, if not for coming back to eGullet I'd have dismissed it out of hand because of its small size. I wouldn't have imagined it would be so versatile.

Can't answer for Calgary, where she is, but here the overnight lows here in New Brunswick have dipped well down into single digits some nights (that's into the mid-40s, for those of you who think in Fahrenheit). The end of summer arrives much more punctually than the start. Next week is looking milder, with 10 or 12C the lowest overnight temperature (50-54F)

I may have met him, then. I catered a lot of functions there at the time. Their problems with the refurbishment caused me some personal grief. I'd opened a second restaurant down near the plant, planning to feed the construction crews until the project was over and then close up shop. When the refurbishment went on hold for 18 months as they sorted out the issues, it meant the main labour contractor went from just under 1700 people on site to (ahem) seven. You don't stay open very long, feeding lunch twice a week to seven people.

My restaurant was in a remote fishing village, which -- paradoxically -- was also home to a nuclear generating station. For a catering order one day, I made leek and potato soup. One of the clients peered into the tureen suspiciously and asked "Does this have much onion in it? Because I don't like onions." "Well," I said, "It's leek and potato soup. So there are leeks in it, but no regular onions." "That's fine then," he replied. "I don't mind a few leeks." "You know," I told him, "That's not what I want to hear from the guy who's refurbishing a nuclear reactor."

...and if you get really obsessed after putting this gift basket together, Elizabeth David's final (posthumous) work, Harvest of the Cold Months, is a deeply interesting history of the evolution of frozen desserts.

I don't know how this stacks up against the others you have looked at/will look at, but the Livestrong website (disclosure:I've written articles for them) has its "MyPlate" fitness/calorie tracker and corresponding apps for Android and iPhone. It integrates your fitness activity with your food intake, so you get more of a "big picture" sort of thing. http://www.livestrong.com/myplate/

Just for the record, you *can* make 'em with whole-wheat dough as well. My parents do that, and so do I, though most of my Newfoundland relatives stick to white. You might notice that white bread is almost universal in the outlying areas of the province. There's actually a reason for that: Newfoundland was a self-governing British colony -- a "dominion," like Canada -- until the Depression hit, and took the legs out from under a place that was already hardscrabble poor. The colony wasn't able to remain self-supporting, and the Brits (who were in straits themselves at the time) had to reluctantly resume direct management by way of a set of commissioners. The commissioners were unpopular with Newfoundlanders ("the seven Mussolinis" was one common nickname for them), in part because of their collective belief that they understood the local population's needs better than they themselves did. One example of that attitude was the Commission's decision to purchase whole-wheat flour for the populace, on the (perfectly logical) grounds that it was cheaper and more nutritious than white. To the islanders it smacked of the dole, and an attitude that "it'll be good enough for the locals." The end result was that Newfoundlanders almost unanimously rejected whole-wheat bread, and it remains unpopular outside of the cities even now. http://www.heritage.nf.ca/articles/politics/commission-government.php

You might be interested in this. It's a replica of a doryman's lunch box from back in the day. It's made like a small barrel, with narrow metal hoops to hold the staves in place. The lid is kept on by the small piece of rope, which also serves as the handle. It held food for two men for two days. My uncle makes them, and sells them occasionally to tourists (he lives now in Prince Edward Island, rather than Newfoundland).

Bologna is affectionately known as "Newfie steak." I still occasionally buy some and fry it up to accompany my eggs.

It's a more or less indestructible form of bread (think "dwarf bread" if you're a Pratchett fan). It's just flour and water and a bit of salt, shaped into oblong cakes and baked until they're dry and stone-hard. In the old days they were called "ship's biscuit" by naval types, or "hardtack" by soldiers. It could be pounded to powder and used as a thickener, cooked into a sort of porridge-y stodge, or soaked and served up as a soft and soggy side dish (ie, brewis). Not exactly a gastronome's delight, but lightweight and relatively indestructible. With that and some dried beans and a bit of salted or dried fish/meat, you could mount a pretty long campaign. Or survive a Newfoundland winter.

For those who don't know, toutons are (usually) bread dough fried in a pan, and brewis is hardtack that's soaked until soft (almost gelatinous) then poached and served alongside salt fish as a carb, in place of potatoes.

Yeah, the cheddar. I think there was a thread about this once upon a time, or perhaps I'm thinking of another group I frequent. I have no objection to a good cheddar alongside (or after) pretty much any home-baked dessert. Didn't care for cheddar -- or, God forbid, a slice of processed cheese -- melted right onto the pie. Though I prefer my apple pie at room temp, another area where I differed from my wife, so having it heated to melt the cheese was a double-whammy.

That's not a "thing" up here...at least not in any part of Canada where I've lived. My late (American) wife asked for it once in a restaurant in New Brunswick, and got a reaction of astonishment and revulsion from both the server and me.

Murres are commonly eaten in Newfoundland, at least in the northern areas where I lived. They're known colloquially as "terrs," for reasons I've never known. They have dark, oily flesh and a strong gamy flavor, but they're pleasant enough. If you're ever in a private home in the evening, you might be served what Newfoundlanders call "lunch." This isn't a light mid-day meal, but rather something served between dinner and bedtime to stave off any late pangs of hunger. It's a small repast, consisting of two or three kinds of leftover fresh or cured meats, ditto fish, a loaf or two of bread, three or four kinds of jam, a couple of different kinds of cake, three or four kinds of cookies, a few jars of pickles, perhaps some potato salad, and maybe a bowl of Jello as well. As I said, just a nibble. For anyone who works on the water, breakfast might be a half-dozen homemade fishcakes (the size of a large hamburger patty) served with baked beans, lots of bread, and a pot or two of tea. Fishing is hard work, and requires a fair bit of fueling-up.

It's a federal thing, rather than a provincial thing. It's not really as bad as it sounds, depending where you live. Sometimes the dock where the catch lands is also home to the processor/wholesaler, and you can indeed buy right from the dock. In other cases, fish go from water to boat to processor/wholesaler to customer in a matter of just a few hours...many's the time I've broken down a halibut at noon that was taken out of the water at first light.

At culinary school, years ago, we broke down several kinds of fish during that particular module. To the amusement of the instructor, after he was done I cut out the cheeks from the halibut and the tongues and cheeks from the cod and fried them up as a "taster." A couple of my Asian classmates were seriously intrigued by the tongues, with their mix of textures.

I've lived in small towns like that in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. They do tend to be very closed circles, and you'll often be a permanent outsider ("come-from-away") if your grandfather didn't go to kindergarten with the neighbour's grandfather. It's unfortunate, but there you have it (ElaineA was completely correct). As she also pointed out, taking too activist a stance -- especially before you've built some sort of social position in the community -- will be received poorly. Those who choose to stay and grit it out in these small, hardscrabble communities are very sensitive to condescension (real or perceived) and will tend to bristle at any suggestion that their way of doing things isn't ideal ("it was good enough for my father and my grandfather and my great-grandfather and..."). CDH, the "selling-from-the-dock" thing isn't protectionism. Fish intended for sale must, by law, pass through a packing plant that's been inspected and certified by the Canada Food Inspection Agency (provides the same kind of oversight the FDA and USDA share in the US). Some skirt the regulations, of course, and enforcement is pretty variable. If you're supplying 20 restaurants "under the table," you -- and they -- can expect something more than a slap on the wrist. If you're selling to tourists from a Coleman in the back of your pickup to help make this month's mortgage payment, the likelihood of serious repercussions is a lot lower.

It does that.

There's really nothing there except a small provincial park and some picturesque but unexceptional (by local standards) scenery. Now if you get the chance to go to Gros Morne Park, on the west coast (past Corner Brook, up around Bonne Bay and Rocky Harbour) that's not to be missed.

I lived in Sop's Arm, a tiny hamlet across White Bay from Baie Verte. Those of my close relatives who still live there were all in the very section you skipped.

I think Michael Pollan and similar writers have moved this kind of discussion into the food-related mainstream. If we can keep personalities and "politics, politics" (as opposed to "politics of food" in the macro sense) I'd personally be keen to follow the thread and participate sporadically.

I've just re-read my own from 2005, and it even made *me* tired. Apparently my 2004 blog was the victim of an upgrade somewhere along the way, and is now a broken link...that one was impromptu rather than an "official" food blog, IIRC. As for the extended absence, in my case you could summarize it as "life." Got divorced, opened a couple of restaurants, closed a couple of restaurants, lost a second wife to a heart attack, moved a few times (actually more than a few times) and have more or less stabilized as a freelance writer.

That wire rack with the cod on it is called a "flake" in Newfoundland. My grandfather's house had one behind it, and I remember inspecting the drying cod with great fascination when I was but a sprout. I'll guess that tips the scale in favor of Newfoundland, though I suspect Scandinavians probably dry cod as well. Edited to add: Forgot my longtime rule about not posting a reply without reading the whole thread. Doh... Looking forward to reading your blog, Elsie. I lived in NL when I was in my teens, but haven't been back since '83 (shame on me). Still have lots of family there, and in fact my parents just got back from a visit.

If I'm in a hurry I just nuke the butter to boiling, and then whisk it into the egg yolk mayonnaise-style. Takes 45-60 seconds to heat the butter, depending on your microwave, and the same or less to make the Hollandaise.

I like 'em in a bed of mashed Buttercup or Sweet Dumpling squash. I know it sounds odd, but I find the combination of the sweet squash and the rich egg yolk is just irresistible. The side of bacon or ham can go underneath, in your dish, or just alongside on the plate. It's good, either way.