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30 Minutes or its Free?

Cold Plate, found on pinterest

I’m not sure I’ve heard anyone making that claim recently, but then again I don’t get much delivered.  But before there was fast food delivery, at least around home, we had delivery of another kind.

Back then, and maybe still, organizations like the UCW, Lion’s Club, and even us students raising money for our graduations would make up turkey cold plates, with turkey, ham, an assortment of salads, a piece of lettuce, dressing, and often some hideous jelly salad (apologies to anyone who makes it or likes it, but oh my god its gross!)

I remember in Grade 11 (No, I didn’t do grade 12, yes I am that old) our small class of 17 people made up a mess of these, and sold them door to door.  The work involved by our parents in the cooking and making of salads and all was tremendous, and not sure we thanked them all enough then.  I remember assembling these in the gym, adding some beet, mustard and potato salad on an assembly line. Stapling a 2nd plate on top of the bottom to hold them together, and piling into cars with parents (none of us were old enough to drive in Grade 11 I don’t think, or very few, legal driving age was (and maybe still is) 17 in Newfoundland then) and heading out to try and sell these.

I really don’t think there was much trouble, because almost everyone seemed to love them, or at least most parts of them (other than the jelly salad :D).  I know I’ve been craving one lately, and absolutely love beet and mustard salad.

Hungry yet?

Spring is Sprung, the cucumbers is riz?

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz,
I wonder where the bluebirds is?

An old rhyme that I’m sure most have heard before, but coupled with memories the other day of double daylight savings time, I was reminded of another of our illustrious former premier Peckford’s achievements, the Sprung Greenhouse! I won’t doubt his ambition, even if the results were less than hoped, but these two items are all I really remember of his reign.

And really who could forget the crops of English Cukes filling up the produce section at the CO-OP? Or the glow emanating like an alien space ship whenever you glanced towards Mount Pearl?  Well I guess most of us did, as it really was an unmitigated disaster, costing tax-payers a fortune, and failing to produce to quota.

I’m sure the 22 minutes bunch, or codco, or whatever there may have been back then would have (or did) have a field day (well maybe not a field, it was a greenhouse after all). An expensive lesson for Newfoundland, but one we can look back on and laugh at.

 

 

 

Ah A Good Old Double Double

What? Coffee? No, I’m not talking about coffee.  I guess memory fails us all over time, because my memory of this seems muddled with the facts.  That said, its still interesting that in 1988, Newfoundland had double daylight savings time.  Personally I’d as soon abolish daylight savings time, or standard time and just keep it all the same all year, but this was even more out to lunch.  When the rest of North America sprung ahead an hour, we sprung ahead 2.

In some ways it was quite nice, we had daylight till nearly midnight, and it was great for playing sports, camping and barbecues.  But that time of year is also our nations hockey mad playoff time.  West coast games were late at the best of times, but can you imagine those with an extra hour added on, and overtime?  Lets say there were lots of sleepy heads some mornings at work and school.  And in the fall it was even worse as kids were going off to school while it was still dark in the morning.

Back to hockey, whats the second double? It refers of course to double overtime, but I can’t see any record of any that playoff season.  I had thought the Washington/New York Islanders game that went into the 4th overtime was that same year, but it was in 1987.  Age muddles the facts and makes things run together, but I guess the game just felt that long anyway!

Anyway, chalk it up to some of the uniqueness of living on the rock!

Dead Man’s Bubble

I guess growing up about 400 feet from the ocean, the beach was a normal part of everyday life for me.  Not a sandy swimming beach mind you, though it was more sandy than some.  Random Island is like two separate sections from the beach perspective (at least on the Smith Sound side), up in Apsey Brook and Snook’s Harbour its mainly granite sand, and worn pebbles, while down in Britannia it was mainly slate and shale.

I loved to spend time down there, sitting on “Big Rock” when the tide was out, making messes in the mud, looking for brannistickles, , trying to grab a trout under the old bridge, and of course skipping stones.  Skipping stones was harder though when there were very few flat stones. The slate and shale was better for that I guess!  But I know we still managed, and if you got the throw just right, you could manage with a rounder stone too.

One thing we did try to do was make a Dead Man’s Bubble.  Whats that? Well if you throw a nice fairly round stone way up high and nearly straight up, it would fall down into the water with a “bloop” sound making a bubble of air rather than a splash.  It was tricky to get right, but I’m sure I spent hours attempting it!

I can see me now down on the beach below Aunt Mary’s throwing rocks up into the air, and hoping to hear that elusive “bloop”.

 

Da worst ting about smokin fish….

Is keepin ’em lit!

I know I know, bad joke!  But was thinking about years back and how lots of fishermen’s stages had a smoker on the side of them.  I don’t recall any ever in use, but Roy’s stage back in Apsey Brook had one, and was often a good spot to hide when playing hide and seek. It was just a tin lined “chimney” with nails sticking out going up the sides.  Roy, and of course whoever else used them would hang caplin or herring up in them, light a fire at the bottom, generally with alder wood, and smoke them to make… well smoked caplin and kippers!

I love the taste of smoked fish of all varieties, and when we got a little older, Eric and I bought a little electric smoker between us.  Had a little element in the bottom with a small pan, and we’d add wood chips and let them smolder to smoke our own kippers, and lots of other things, but mostly trout and our own moose and beef jerky!

We could buy all kinds of chips, and of course get our own alder, and sometimes apple and others.  We’d experiment with making different brines to add different flavours (hmmm did I ever tell the story of “Who put the salt in the punch?”) and smoke lots of different things, including trying cheese on one or two occasions.

Junior Patey used to love trouting, but he was never really find of the trout, so he’d freeze a lot for his family, but one day he tried the smoked ones Eric and I made, and he loved them, and whats not to love? Its like fish bacon!  Anyway, over the next few weeks he emptied his freezer of trout and smoked them all!

I know Eric still smokes stuff now, and I do too, tho for me its smoking bought stuff as there’s not many trouting holes here in the city (plus I have no idea if half these weird fish up here are fit to eat anyway, I liked that we had trout and only trout back home).  Eric sent me up some jerky he made last year, and I think it lasted all of 20 minutes, cause I was sparing it along!

Anyway, keep yer fish lit, and have a smoky ole day!

Random Memories

Just recalling some old stories and memories from back in the day… not long enough for a blog post on their own, but some may remember them

  • The Bank of Barry – It seemed in the early 90’s almost everyone on the upper end of the island owed Barry money, me included on occasion.  Wonder if he ever got paid it all!
  • Driving with Eric in his father’s old yellow station wagon (with wood paneling), picking up Boyd Rideout, and after coming around the tunnel, him saying that we were going so fast he could see the tail lights out the side window as the car bent!
  • Eric and I driving to Hants Harbour planning to call dad, cause he was always saying we’d be over there if there was a bridge across! Unfortunately we couldn’t find a pay phone there (was a Sunday when stores were still closed on Sundays).  We did call him from Whitbourne though! (Also, the number of amazing looking girls out walking in the small town of Cavendish that Sunday was unreal!).
  • Taking the ferry to Quebec and calling Lindy collect.
  • Three words “Oh shit, diesel!” the rest of the story and the participant will be left nameless to protect the less than innocent.
  • Tipping Dad’s atv over backwards on top of Eric and I when we first got it
  • “You tried that Dennis!” When Stan had been hit in the nether regions for the umpteenth time when playing road or ice hockey with whatever we were using for a puck
  • Playing hockey in the big ditch area by Gunther Krom’s.
  • Lorrie and Julie playing on the springing caterpillars or whatever they were in the Shoal Harbour playground at about 2am after leaving the playhouse.
  • “Peter, doors open, lights on” – We were stopped at a roadblock one night, and being nervous, I asked the cop if she wanted the light on when searching the car. That was Junior’s response.  She was laughing her butt off, of course that may have been partially cause Eric and Junior has been commenting on her butt.
  • Convincing Kendall that the white wrapped hay we saw on the farms was in fact marshmallows and that they grew that way and had to be sent away to be cut and packaged.
  • The Mr. Bean car Derek bought off Stephen, we drove that everywhere, up across banks and ditches and gardens.
  • Chevy Van!
  • Derek bought another car off Joe Baker. Had an accident in it near Ivan’s old place.  I think the story was he hit black ice in July, but knowing Derek he probably fell asleep.  The funny part though was Joe coming and seeing it and saying “She wasn’t like that when I had her”
  • Getting a speeding ticket in the old Corisca the day of David’s and Celeste’s wedding when Eric and Derek and Leanne had me drove nuts about the motor being gone.

Sweet Leaves, Frankum, and Spruce Buds

Sweet Gale

The other night I had a memory of being on the grass on Celie Burt’s garden in Elliott’s Cove, with Tony Burt I believe, but that part of the memory is foggy.  Its my most vivid memory of eating something we all ate as kids I’m sure; sweet leaves.  Eric and I were trying to figure out what they officially are named earlier, and thought they might be Sweet Gale, but that grows up to a meter high and that doesn’t sound right, but maybe so.

We used to chew them up and they had a delicious sweet taste, that I do remember, and we spent a lot of time pulling them out and getting that sweet juice.

Another thing I’ve had occasionally, and came back to me with the same memory, and I’m sure others have had even more frequently is the soft new growth that pops out from the spruce buds in the spring of the year.  I’ve read it’s good in salads, and can be brewed into spruce beer.  I’ve had both (the growth and the beer) and while one may be derived from the other, I’m not sure what I had was, as the beer was disgusting, while the buds weren’t that bad!

Lastly there’s frankum.  I doubt many of the young people now have had it, or even heard of it, but the older generation used it like chewing gum.  Its the hardened resin from a spruce tree, and Dad used to cut it off and trim off the bark, and start chewing it.  Its a bit hard to get going, and tastes a bit barky till you get it going, but its not that bad!  The worst part is if you didn’t get a nice hard piece, you ended up putting raw sticky resin in your mouth, not a pleasant experience!

Keepin’ Yer Feets and Hands Warm!

Yesterday I posted about the old loom, and it reminded me of another staple past-time/skill of the older generation of ladies; knitting.  I bet nearly all my generations Moms knit, and perhaps many younger still do.  We all had ugly cardigans and fisherman’s knit sweaters, and the ugliest of all the Christmas one with the deer and snowflakes (thank god I never had one of those!).  But the best thing of all, and something we often got at Christmas were our vamps and double mitts!

Darning Needle

I know from experience if you tell someone from outside Newfoundland that you’re wearing vamps they won’t have a clue what you are talking about.  But I still wear them to this day to keep my feet warm on the basement floor here. What are they?  Well they are over-sized socks, not like store bought wool socks which are a finer stitch, but more like a sweater for your feet.  Often well worn, and holes darned up with the old darning needle, making them a patchwork of multiple colors, but like comfort food, they are something that just makes you feel cozy.

Another staple we wore back in the day was what we called a double mitt.  Rather than the traditional mitt, with a thumb and larger section for your fingers, these had a thumb, index finger and then the larger space.  There’s probably a reason why, but darned if I know what it is.  These were almost always (except in my picture of course) had a different square pattern on the back of the hand from the rest of the mitt.  If anyone has a picture, I’d love a copy!

Besides keeping yoru hands warm, though these often had another use, and maybe that was the reason for the index finger.  If you think back on watching the older fisherman in their stage at the slitting table, you’ll likely recall at least some of them wearing a double mitt on one hand, to better get a grip on the slippery fish!

For whatever reason, likely nostalgia, these in my memory seemed to keep our hands warmer than anything store bought.  I can remember now, coming inside with balls of snow stuck to them from making forts and tunnels, throwing them in the warmer, or on the oven door of the old wood stove, and hauling on a dry pair of vamps after a day outside.

The Loom looms….

Yes it does, the loom looms over the whole room! There, that’s my attempt at poetry for today.

As a kid, I never gave much thought to it, but so many people back home had looms, and wove all kinds of things, (well I assume there were all kinds of things, the only real one that comes to mind now is place mats). Like everything in rural Newfoundland, I am sure it served a much greater purpose than just a craft for enjoyment, our fathers and mothers were more practical, not by choice but by need.

But now that I’m older, I sometimes wonder what that purpose was.  I know so little about the loom, just how big and complicated it looked, and watching Aunt Vick, amongst others, sliding the shuttles back and forth and pulling the weave tight.  But I wonder what did our forefathers use the woven material for? Clothing? Table cloths? Bags? Bed clothes?  I really have no idea!

I think all our foremothers knit as well, and I’ll write a piece about the old double mitts and vamps soon, but I’m curious now as to the use of the loom!

The First Pizza

Growing up back home, pizza was a foreign commodity, we’d heard of it, but there was none around Clarenville at all.  The only pizza we saw were the (I think) chef boyardee pizza kits, with a can of sauce and dough mix that was never big enough to cover the pan and some herbs to throw on, and a little (again i think) parmesan cheese.

 

It tasted exactly unlike anything pizza was supposed to taste like.  Of course we needed toppings, so seeing as we’d also never seen salami or pepperoni, we used the next best thing….. vienna sausages!  if you’ve never had these wondrous little delicacies, well then don’t.  They are one of the most horrendous products ever made in my opinion, though of course I know many people who love them.  I remember making someone, I think it was Tina Cooper, though that may have been dill pickle chips, throw them out the window of the car when they opened them, saying either the sausages went or they did. The smell is disgusting!  The only way I could manage them at all was to fry them up, not sure how anyone was able to eat the raw…. but I digress.  On those old pizza kits we’d slice these up as our pretend pepperoni, and throw the whole works in the oven.  It of course tasted nothing at all like pizza.

My first real pizza wasn’t eaten till I was 16 or 17, and in St. John’s starting at the College of Trades and Technology.  I decided to try it and went to Mr. Jim’s in Churchill Square, and sat down.  A waiter or waitress came and asked me what I’d like, and having no idea what any of these foreign sounding things were, I ended up with a cheese pizza.  Needless to say, after burning my mouth on melted cheese, and having no toppings, I was a little underwhelmed.

But that was the first real pizza, other than the kits.  I can still see those on the shelf at the CO-OP in my minds eye now!