You say tomatillo, I say tomato...

Spiraling quickly toward the end of gardening season, here's a bright late-harvest recipe for before the dutch oven gets dusted off.

Maybe not technically a posole, but a fantastic green tomato fish chowder (garnished with the world's smallest radish).

North Atlantic End-of-Season Posole

adapted from bon appetit October 2015 issue

1-3/4 lbs green tomatoes
2 tbsp olive oil
1 red onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, smashed then minced
1 fresh hot peppers, thinly sliced
all the cilantro that survived the first snowfall (or 1 cup)
2 cod loin fillets*
kernels from 2 cobs of sweet corn**
2 cups seafood stock***
garnish for serving: sliced fresh hot pepper, radish, lime

*yeah, okay, cod loins vary in size, but use enough to serve a decent soup-amount to 4 people... a pound to a pound and a half will do

**blanch very fresh sweet corn in boiling water for 4 minutes then plunge in ice-cold water to stop the cooking process; using a sharp knife, cut the kernels off the cob... or use a heaping cup of frozen corn

***made from fish heads and/or shellfish shells (ours was in the freezer made some time ago, likely from shrimp heads and shells, maybe trout heads or lobster scraps too)

True, we had to substitute nearly every ingredient, but that's just the
cost of living on an island in a cold, harsh climate.

Wash and quarter the green tomatoes, removing the stem and any unsightly spots, bruises, frostbite, etc.  Puree in a food processor or blender and set aside.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat oil over medium.  Cook onion, garlic and hot pepper until soft.

Add half of the green tomato puree and cook until the mixture reaches a good steady boil.  Add cod, corn, and seafood stock.  Bring to a simmer and maintain it to poach the cod until it is cooked through, about 8-10 minutes.

While the cod is cooking, roughly chop the cilantro and add to remaining green tomato.  Puree together.

When the cod is cooked, remove soup from heat and stir the green tomato mixture to incorporate, breaking the cod into chunks.  

Ladle into bowls, garnish with hot pepper slices and radish and squeeze a bit of lime juice over top.  

Serves 6 as a first course or 4 as a light meal.

~~~

Whenever we buy a gourmet cooking magazine, we excitedly scan the pages.  Ooooohing and ahhhhing.  Imagining a dinner party.  Looking up ingredients that are probably readily available in major cities but impossible to find on this island in the North Atlantic. Or at least impossible to find all at the same time.  (We fantasize constantly about grocery stores that you can walk into with a list and walk out of with everything ticked off.) 

It's possible there is some sort of psychotic disorder that makes us buy these magazines over and over again.  Taunting ourselves with them.  Salivating over meals we'll never eat.

Then this miraculous thing happened.  Flipping through the October issue of bon appetit, I came across a recipe for green posole with cod and cilantro.  Brilliant, I thought, I can make this.  "Did you see this?" I called out excitedly, "We have cod! We can make this!"

"We don't have tomatillos," Fefe Noir, all sensible-kill-joy about her says, "and where will you find hominy?  What is hominy?"

Pffffffttt... details...

This year's garlic harvest chez The Moose
Curry Experience, curing in Fefe Noir's office.

This is a great recipe for November on Newfoundland's Avalon peninsula, as we are spiraling quickly toward the end of gardening season.  The garlic has been harvested and cured, the cilantro is still hanging on.  Peppers are finally ripe, or ripe-enough at least.  The first snow means we have had to give up on the vague hope that the tomatoes are going to ripen outside, so they have been brought in, green, to be hung to ripen, or stored in dark boxes, or made into jam and salsa and chutney.

I know, green tomatoes are not tomatillos, but they are bright with lemony-acidity which is a great base for a fish soup.  And sure, shallot season is over and I hadn't thought far enough ahead to buy some for storage but red onions are strong and juicy right now... and okay, the cilantro that is hanging on has gone to seed but the feathery green on the flower stalk tastes as much (maybe even more) of cilantro herb as the broad flat mid-summer leaf.  In the end I couldn't find hominy, but we had blanched and frozen a bit of local sweet corn.  Clam juice, too, is clearly for fancy people with fantasy grocery stores, but seafood stock is simple to make.

In the end, I'm pretty sure this is no longer a posole, but it is definitely a really good soup.  

Freezer and Pantry Valentine: Part 1. The Appetizer

Make an impressive three course meal for two for Valentine's Day using ingredients you already have.  For the appetizer, smoke your own fish and make pickled berries.  (I told you it was impressive.)

Frozen fish, frozen berries and stale bread make a smoky and bright appetizer worthy serving to the love of your life.

Tea-smoked Cod Crostini

For the tea-smoked cod:

frozen cod*, thawed (as much or as little as you have**)

*Don't have cod?  Don't worry... use whatever other fish you have in the freezer. Allergic to fish? Tea-smoke a couple eggs (boiled for 6 minutes, peeled and cooled first), or pull something else out of the fridge or freezer.  You can tea-smoke just about anything, but consult the miracle of the internet for appropriate cooking times.

**As long as it fits on your smoking rack, see instructions below.  And bearing in mind this is for an appetizer for two, so you don't need very much... of course, any you don't use for Valentines day would be good on a sandwich or salad the next day.

Genmaicha tea comes with the rice already in it, but feel
free to substitute any leafy tea and raw or toasted rice.

4 tbsp genmaicha tea (or 2 tbsp loose leaf green tea + 2 tbsp uncooked rice)

1 tbsp demerara sugar
1 tbsp granulated sugar
1 star anise
1/2 tsp fennel
1/2 tsp peppercorns
1 twist of orange

For serving:

a couple slices of stale bread
butter***
quick-pickled red currants****

***Or olive oil or bacon grease or drippings...

****Any berry from your freezer will do, the tarter the better.


MAKE AHEAD: You probably don't want to be running around like a crazy person feeling harassed and frustrated on Valentine's Day.  So make the smoked cod and the quick-pickled currants the day before.  We did a one-quarter-ish recipe of the Pickle Girl's recipe (link above) for the currants... and used the excess brine and pickled some wild blackberries to eat with cheese.

You need a heavy dutch oven or casserole or other pot with a lid.  You also need a good bit of aluminium foil and a heatproof rack that fits inside your pot.  We used our cast iron dutch oven and an old metal trivet with a bent leg (caribougrrl finally wins the why-are-we-keeping-all-this-useless-stuff game!).

When you see wisps of smoke rising from the tea mixture,
it's time to put the fish on.

Line your pan with tin foil in two directions, leaving a lot of overhang on all sides (enough to wrap the lid in later). Mix the tea, sugars, and spices together.  Spread these across the bottom of your foil-lined pan, add the orange peel, and place the rack over top.  Heat the smoking ingredients over medium-high until wisps of smoke begin to rise.  Put the fish on the rack in a single layer, put the lid on the pot, and wrap the lid with the overhanging foil.

Seal up the pot with tin foil turning it into a stove top smoker.

Let the fish smoke***** for about 12 minutes per inch of thickness.  You can tell if it's cooked the same way you would if you were baking or grilling it: the fish will be firm and fat will be coagulated on the surface.  White fish is delicate so remove it from the pan to cool rather than allowing it to cool in the smokey pan.

*****Your house is going to smell a bit smoky, but fragrant smoke, like incense.  Go ahead and run your exhaust fan, but there's a lot less smoke than you think, especially if you've used enough foil.  If you're still worried about it, take the whole pot outside when you open it up.


To serve:

Cut your stale bread into serving sized pieces.  For bonus points, cut it into heart shapes.  Butter (or oil or grease) lightly and fry in a skillet to toast.

Top toasts with flakes of smoked fish and a few pickled berries.  The bright and salty berries are the perfect counterpoint to the rich, smokey fish.

The tea-smoked cod is done when it's firm and flaky, and the fat has coagulated on the surface.

~~~

So, you might glean from the all the notes, that the important thing is not following the instructions exactly so much as using what you already have on-hand and following the idea.  Save your money for one good ingredient for your main or for a really good bottle of wine or for flowers, or (let's be honest) for your heating bill.  The point is, you can probably make something fantastic with things you already have sitting in your freezer and your cupboards.

About the tea-smoking.  We bought Skye Gyngell's A Year in my Kitchen several years ago and have always been tempted by the tea-smoking technique but really intimidated by it too.  When I saw the step-by-step in Showfoodchef's post about tea-smoked salmon, it all suddenly made sense and seemed accessible enough to try.  As it turns out, not only is tea-smoking possible, but it's surprisingly easy and surprisingly tidy.  Give it a try, you'll be amazed by yourself.

Stay tuned for a miniature version of a classic main, perfect for candle lit dinner.

Newfound-Ceviche

We're at the tail end of the summer food fishery.  Put away your pans and deep fryers and let the last of your fresh cod cook itself in the refrigerator.

In this ceviche, the cod and scallop are cooked by the acid in the liquid.  That means you don't have to heat up your kitchen; a bonus during the dog days of summer.

Cod & Scallop Ceviche

1/2 lb fresh or thawed cod, chopped coarsely
1/2 lb fresh or thawed scallops, chopped coarsely*
3-5 cloves garlic, smashed and coarsely chopped
2-5 (or more) hot red peppers, cut in half lengthwise
1-1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro
1 tsp coarse sea salt
4 limes, juiced
1/2 grapefruit, juiced

Use sea salt in this recipe because, well, the sea is where
the star ingredients come from.

2 tbsp silver tequila

Use glass or other non-reactive material.  Jars work well
because the high sides help reduce the amount of citrus
juice required to cover everything.

*if you use tiny bay scallops, don't bother chopping

Once all the prep work is done, this recipe is dead simple.

In a clean 1 litre glass jar** spread 1/5 of the cilantro, garlic and peppers over the bottom.  Top with 1/4 of the cod and scallops.  Add another layer of cilantro, garlic and peppers and 1/4 tsp of salt.  Continue to layer the fish and seasonings, ending with a seasoning layer.

**or use a glass bowl but you may need additional citrus juice to cover the fish; the tall narrowness of a jar helps minimize the amount of juice required... and with the price of limes this year, it's a definite advantage

Use a spoon handle or knife along the edges of the jar to
release pockets and bubbles of air.

Mix the lime and grapefruit juice with the tequila.  Pour into the jar.  This will cover or nearly cover your fish. Run a knife or spoon handle around the edge of the jar to release air bubbles.  If the fish mixture is not completely covered in liquid, add more lime juice.

Cover and refrigerate for 12-36 hours.  Check that the fish and scallops are opaque right through before serving (if not opaque, return to fridge for a few more hours).  How quickly the ceviche will cure depends on how cold your fridge is, how acidic your citrus fruit was, and how big your coarse chopping is.

Use a fork or slotted spoon to remover from jar and serve on grilled sweet potato slices (see below).

Reserve the curing liquid and mix it into fresh salsa the next day.

Grilled Sweet Potato Rounds

sweet potatoes 
drizzle of sunflower oil
pinch or two of salt

Discovering that sweet potato can be cooked directly on
the grill was a culinary epiphany of the best sort.

Pre-heat your grill scorching hot.

Slice sweet potatoes into 1/4" thick rounds.  Toss with oil and salt.

Put sweet potato rounds directly on the grill in a single layer and immediately turn the grill down to medium heat.  If you have a charcoal grill or are using a griddle, use your own judgement with how to manage this shift in heat, I have no advice.

Cook for 4-6 minutes on each side.  You want the outside to blister and char a bit and the potato to cook through.  Salt lightly as you take them off the grill.

These are perfect as a base for ceviche, but are also good as a side for pretty much anything (and a simple but seriously delicious way to get your orange vegetable for the day).

~~~

Although this is not exactly an authentic recipe, it's inspired by the Peruvian style of ceviche with hot peppers and served with sweet potato.  It's best with sweet potato, but grilled avocado will also do in a pinch...

~~~

Summer in Newfoundland is always busy.  For starters, you can never be sure how much of it you'll get, so as soon as the weather turns you drop everything else and concentrate on summer: coaxing food out of the back garden, outdoor house projects... running, cycling or hiking without multiple layers, driving with the windows down, synthesizing vitamin D... turning the heat off in the house (at least during the day), whale watching, cocktails on the porch... and most importantly, after months of complaining about the cold and the damp and the unfairness of it all, finally taking a deep breath and saying, "it's too damned hot".

The other thing about Newfoundland summer is that, as astounding as it may seem for the foggiest place on earth, this island in the north Atlantic is something of a vacation destination.  Some years, before you know it, you are blocked solid with visitors.***

***Now don't take that as a complaint.  Visitors give us the excuse to do touristy things and the opportunity to show off some of the off-the-beaten-path secrets of this place.  And conscripting house guests to a work-for-your-food scheme**** resulted in speedy progress on The Fence Project, a good start on The Window Restoration Project, and knocking a bunch of items off the Round-To-It List.

****That sounds a bit cruel, I suppose, but in the interest of full disclosure, these particular guests insisted they wanted a project to work on... 

This has been a Summer of Visitors, thus a summer of especially good food.  (We can't have it be said that anyone ate poorly chez The Moose Curry Experience.)  It's been tricky though, since the fish truck that used to live across the harbour closed a couple years ago and the fish truck we stumbled across last year did not reappear this spring.  We were scrambling to find seafood closer to home than St. John's*****.  After many driving excursions wild goose chases, a failure of the power of social media, and some disappointingly not-as-fresh-as-it-should-be purchases from big chain groceries, we finally found a place hiding right under our noses.  Some good old fashioned postering brought the recently opened Admiral's Market to our attention.  If you're in Conception Bay North, you can find them in the boat-shaped building at the southside marina in Harbour Grace.  Both the scallops and the cod used in this dish were bought from the fabulous women who run the market.

Fresh cod and fresh scallops were bought locally from Admirals Market.

*****There are some good fish shops in St. John's and since I work there, it's not always inconvenient, but it means not being able to decide on a holiday or Saturday that it feels like a mussel night... plus, there's something nice about being able to spend your money in the community where you live.

To be frank, I was hoping to write a blog post about catching our own cod during the food fishery.  But that's a one-that-got-away story.  Er, a one that never bit story.  (Anyone who wants to help improve some mainlander jigging skills in September should leave a comment or send an email to the.moose.curry.experienceATgmail.com!)

Although the cod fishing was a bust, it's been a Summer of Perfect Cilantro.  Serendipitiously, Fefe Noir had the foresight to order several pounds of coriander seed this year and sow it in the bed where we buried the not-quite-composted bits from the old composter.  As a result, we have a serious bumper crop of cilantro.  Despite the unbearable heat (for those of you who will take pleasure in mocking our weather intolerance, we had about 3 weeks in the mid-high 20C range), there was no massive bolting event.  

Our cilantro crop is phenomenal this year.  Too bad none of our guests were as enthusiastic about it as we are...

An amazing cilantro year.  And five or six weeks of guests who don't particularly like cilantro.  Or very hot peppers.  Or very much raw garlic.

So as soon as the house was empty we started chopping... 

An Act of Cod: Indian-Spiced Fish & Chips

An old standard finds enlightenment. 

Fish & chips is an unpretentious meal so cover your table in newspaper, gather everyone around and simply tip the food onto the table.  Eat together, with your fingers, from a shared pile of food.  Trust me.

Pakora Fish & Chips

a note on time management: If you do everything at once, it can take a few hours to prepare this meal (several things need to wait between prep and use). You can break up the work over a few days, doing the prep when it's convenient. The tamarind sauce can be made several days before or can be done the day of; same for the garam masala. The pickled onion should be made at least a couple of hours before serving to allow it to mellow; the potatoes need at least couple of hours in ice water, so prep these at the same time. Both can be made up to a day ahead. The batter needs to sit for a while before using, so mix up the batter and set aside while you do the first fry of the chips, batter and fry the fish (which will stay hot longer than the chips) and then do the second fry for the chips.  I know it sounds complicated, but stay with me, it's worth it.  If your kitchen is better stocked with tools than ours, it might even be easier than I'm letting on.

for the tamarind sauce:

1/2 lb tamarind pods
4 dried hot cherry peppers
boiling water
2 tbsp demerrara sugar (or more, to taste)
1/2 c. cold water (or more, as needed)

Put the tamarind pods and dried peppers in a heat-proof bowl and pour boiling water over them to cover. Cover the bowl with a plate and set aside to let soften. Do some laundry, take the dogs for a walk, change the bedsheets, dig out all your paperwork for filing your taxes... anything... but don't worry about the tamarind for an hour or longer. Run the tamarind mixture through a food mill to separate the skins and seeds from the pulp. This will result in a thick and sour paste. Dissolve demerrara in about 1/2 c. of cold water and stir into the paste. Continue to thin with cold water until it reaches the desired consistency (slightly thinner than commercial ketchup). Use right away or store in the refrigerator until you need it.

for the quick-pickled onion:

1 red onion
juice from 1 lemon
salt, to taste

Thinly slice the onion. I use a mandolin because evenly thin slices make me happy; but slice it in a more rustic manner if you like. Pack the onion into the bottom of a glass jar and add lemon juice and salt. If the onion is not completely covered, you can stir it once in a while or if you are lazy like me, just add more lemon juice or pack the onion down more tightly to cover. Set aside leaving at room temp for at least two hours or store in the fridge if you are leaving for longer than the afternoon.

The spices are toasted when they deepen in colour and become
immensely fragrant. You can buy pre-made garam masala as a time-saver
but you will be so pleased you made your own.

for the garam masala:

2 green cardamom pods
3 black cardamom pods
1/2 tbsp whole cloves
2 tbsp coriander seeds
2 tbsp cumin seeds
1 tbsp black peppercorns
6 pieces mexican cinnamon bark (or 1/2 stick cinnamon)

Combine all spices in a dry cast-iron skillet. Heat on medium-high (err on the side of medium... I think of this as south-southeast on my stove knob) stirring or swirling them around in the pan occasionally while heating. When spices become very fragrant and slightly browned, remove from heat. Continue to stir once in a while as they pan cools down. When they are cool enough to handle, grind the spices in a spice grinder (do them in batches as needed). Store them in a glass jar but do not cap until completely cooled.


for the chips:

1 medium-sized potato per person
peanut and/or sunflower oil for frying*
salt
nigella seeds (jeera)

*see notes in the fish section on choosing your pan and checking the temperature

We used Emeril Lagasse's technique for french fries. Before working on the fish, cut your fries and get them soaking... leave them soaking until you have the fish batter mixed.  Do the first chip fry before cooking the fish and the second chip fry after. When you remove the chips the final time, put them in a sieve suspended over a heat-proof bowl to drain the oil. While they are still piping hot, sprinkle them with salt and nigella seeds and toss to coat. The nigella seeds lend a je ne sais quoi that you don't want to skip.



"It came in this morning, love.  Landed yesterday."

for the fish:

1/2 lb. fresh local white fish per person 
1-2 tbsp garam masala
salt

We used cod because locally-caught wild cod is in season, also cod is delicious, but buy whatever local sea or freshwater whitefish is best where you live.

adjust the batter ingredients as necessary, but for 2 lbs of cod (4 servings):

1/2 c. chickpea flour (besan)
1/3 c. whole wheat all-purpose flour
1 tsp ground tumeric
1/4 tsp salt
juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/3 c. water
soda water as required
peanut oil and/or sunflower oil for deep frying

Cut the fish so you have 2 pieces per person.  Rub fish with a very thin coating of salt and garam masala. You made far more garam masala than you need, so don't worry about using it up, you want to season the fish delicately, but not overwhelm it.  Put the fish in the refrigerator until you are ready to batter it, but plan to cook the fish within a couple of hours.

Make the batter: Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl.  Add the lemon juice and water; stir until evenly mixed (all the lumps should be gone).  Add soda water, a little bit at a time, until it reaches the desired consistency.  You want a fairly thin batter but it should still coat the back of your spoon.  Let the batter sit at room temperature for about 30 minutes. 

This is a good time to do your first chip fry; use the same pan for the chips that you will for the fish, so choose a pan to suit both purposes. 

The chick pea flour will absorb some water and thicken the batter (but this also means it will cook properly, not taste dry and grainy).  Thin again as needed with soda water.  If you over-thin, add some all-purpose flour to thicken.

Fry your fish:  For deep frying, you need the oil to be deep enough to submerge your food but you also need enough space at the top of the pan to accommodate the change in volume when you add food and allow for bubbling-up as it fries.  So leave a couple of inches head-space.  Choose your pan based on how big your fish pieces are, how many you want to cook at one time, and how much oil you realistically have.  I fried our fish one piece at a time in a small-ish saucepan simply because we we were a bit low on oil.

I fried in a combination of peanut oil and sunflower oil.  I will admit that I would have used only peanut oil if we'd had enough around.  I thought there was more than there was (I've been having that problem lately).  Luckily, we also had some sunflower oil and it has the same smoke-point as peanut oil, so they combine easily for frying.  Use either or both.

We don't have a thermometer, but the good news is deep frying is not brain surgery.  The oil is hot when you can see long streaks in it and if you insert a wooden spoon handle to the bottom, some little bubbles rise up rapidly (for the first go at the chips, the little bubbles should rise up easily and swiftly, but not rapidly).  If you insist on using a thermometer, do the fish at about 375F.  (Emeril says 350F for finishing your fries, but I did ours at the same temp as the fish, more or less).



Fresh cod cooks up moist and flaky and feels like butter in your mouth.
A fantastic juxtaposition to the pakora batter.

Shoo all the pets and miniature humans out of the kitchen, just in case there is a hot oil incident.

In batches, coat the fish in the batter and let the excess drip off.  Lower gently into the oil and fry until the batter is golden brown (about 4-5 minutes).  Agitate the fish once in a while to ensure it doesn't stick to the bottom.  If you underestimated the size of your fish and it isn't completely covered, turn it over after a couple of minutes.  Adjust your heat as necessary so that the batter takes nearly 5 minutes to cook properly.  When cooked, fresh cod will be flaky and moist and have the mouthfeel of butter.  The batter will be crisp and thin and gold like the sun.  (The summer sun, not the winter sun.)

Remove the fish with a metal slotted spoon and drain in a sieve suspended over a heat proof bowl or pan.  

for serving:  

In my opinion, this is a meal best eaten with your fingers from a shared plate.  So, cover your table with a few layers of newspaper.  Tip your sieve full of fish and your sieve full of chips onto the paper.  Serve with tamarind sauce for dipping and quick-pickled onion to cut the richness.  If you eat with people who don't like a mess, you can provide a fork, or just tell them they're in the wrong house.

Guaranteed to be a success.

~~~

After listening to the recent BBC Food Program on fish & chips, we had an epiphany: fish and chips are a canvas, not a prescribed product.  The traditional Canadian presentation is beer-battered and served with tartar sauce, coleslaw and, if you're lucky, a slice of lemon.  Newfoundland has a variation that includes dressing (as in, bread stuffing) and gravy. There's nothing wrong with those formulas, but there's no need to feel stuck to it.

The show made us desperately wish we lived closer to the shop featured in the radio program, because, let's face it, east Indian spiced fish and chips sounds like an astoundingly good idea.  

So we did what we do when there is food we want but can't get: we talked about it for days.  We talked, we debated this type of batter over that, we consulted the miracle of the internet to get a sense of the flavour profiles of fish curries, we hummed and hawed over sides.  We discussed the winter pantry's suitable dried fruits and flours.  

Nigella seeds are so magical we jump at any appropriate opportunity to use them. There was a definite tumeric-garam masala-tamarind theme across the fish curry recipes I read. The batter is modeled on pakora. There are as many pakora batters as there are pakora cooks, so I read a lot of recipes then used this handy guide for making deep fry batter when developing my recipe.

When the concept was well-hatched, we bought a boatload of fresh cod from The Fish Depot.  And by fresh, what I mean is, "It came in this morning, love.  Landed yesterday."  

Then we spent a weekend eating testing fish and chips.  I mean, after all, we have an obligation to be certain that the recipe works, right?

hey.... where did this cat come from?

Cod and Crab Burgers

Species that are somewhat at odds with each other in the wild combine to become a delectable meal on your dinner plate.

6 oz. snow crab meat, drained and shredded
2 lbs 4 oz. cod fillet (fresh or thawed from frozen), coarsely diced
1-3/4 c. bread crumbs
1/4 c. parsley, minced
2 spring onions, minced
coarse ground black pepper to taste

We buy our snow crab down the street at the processing plant, pre-cooked and frozen (when we are especially lucky, a neighbour shows up with crab for us).  We thawed about a pound of crab in the shell for this recipe.   Make the bread crumbs from stale bread.

Mix all the ingredients together in a large bowl.  Shape into 8 burgers and place flat on a tray or plate.  Cover and refrigerate overnight to allow them to set.

Preheat grill on high; oil grill and turn down to medium high.  Lightly oil fish burgers and cook 4 minutes on each side (all grills are different, so use your judgement, they may be done sooner or later, but will feel firm when they are fully cooked).

Serve on toasted red fife buns with quick-pickled red onion and chive flower mayonnaise, or other condiments of your choice.

~~~

This week we were invaded by visitors from mainland Canada.  The sort of visitors you have to accept (family) and you have to, HAVE TO, feed (teenage boys).  Serendipitously, we bought way too much cod from a roadside stand recently, and had a little more than a couple pounds in the freezer.  And some snow crab.  Combining the two results in the ultimate Newfoundland burger to serve to tourists.  Nevermind the tourists though, make these burgers for yourself.  (Hoard them.  If you share, you will regret it.)  But don't take my word for it, family and especially teenage boy family, are very honest critics: we had to cut the last one of these in half to avoid the brewing fist fight over it.

Dude, where's my rhubarb?

In which Fefe Noir and caribougrrl search the countryside for abandoned rhubarb patches, embarrass a fish monger, and make a surprising discovery close to home.

We stopped in Perry's Cove to have a quick look for rhubarb and took advantage of the scenery to take a picture
of what 4 lbs of fresh cod looks like.

Over the last couple of weeks, we have been using a lot of rhubarb; partly because it is rhubarb season but largely because it has been a bit of work perfecting a particular rhubarb recipe for the blog.  Something we've discovered with this blogging business is that "this is great, next time we should try this or tweak that" is fine when you are cooking for yourself, but it doesn't pass muster when you are cooking in order to tell someone else how to make something.  Through the jigs and the reels, we have exhausted our rhubarb supply.  We have exhausted the supply of rhubarb we can politely beg from our neighbours.

Fefe had a tickle in the back of her mind of having seen a decent rhubarb patch somewhere, that looked like it didn't belong to anyone.  Maybe along the shoreline?  Maybe at an abandoned house?  Somewhere in Newfoundland for sure, she thought.  Fefe, by the way, has a poorly developed hippocampus. We figured even if we didn't find the patch from her memory, there are enough derelict homes around that we might strike gold on our rhubarb mission.

There are some great old houses, sadly abandoned,
but that's the way of things.  Watch your step for sheep
poop, but some apple trees and raspberry canes to keep
in mind for future forays. 

It sounds a bit shady, I know... but think of it like dumpster-diving for rural people.  Food left uneaten simply because it's not actively tended.  (We did have cash in our pockets and were prepared to buy some at a roadside stand if necessary.  But free is better when it doesn't cause any harm.  So a-scavenging we went.)

At a Sunday-drive pace, we meandered through Carbonear and Freshwater with no luck, but it was early still.  Heading into Victoria, Fefe and I startled the dogs (happily snoozing in the back seat already) with a burst of excitement.  Not rhubarb, no.  As good or better: a sign for a fish truck!

The significance of this is probably lost on most, if not all, of you reading here.  Firstly, in Newfoundland, it's not at all strange to stop on the side of the road or in a parking lot and buy fresh, frozen or salted fish from a truck.  Up until sometime last summer or fall, one of these trucks was permanently situated on the south side of Harbour Grace.  So for years, we bought our fish across the harbour from the house.  Lovely.  But then the truck was gone, and until the moment we spotted that fish truck sign, we hadn't found one convenient to home for buying local fish.  So what luck, right?  Whee!

He was out of halibut and scallops, so we went for the fresh
cod.  Note the greens hanging in bags in the background.

In all the ado I forgot to ask the very charming fish truck man his name, but: the fish truck is in Victoria on Thursdays and Saturdays, and in Clarke's Beach on Wednesdays and Fridays.  He was happy enough to let us take a picture of his set up, but turns out to be camera-shy himself.  Or maybe we just startled him with what must have seemed like disproportionate exuberance? (I have to confess that when I get excited about something, I talk too much and too fast and it's possibly overwhelming if you were planning on a calm, steady, ordinary day of selling fish.)  In any case, he waved away the camera and ran for cover.  

Since we had just started out, not yet found rhubarb, and were reluctant to turn back, we bought some ice at the gas station up the road and turned our rhubarb basket into a makeshift cooler.  Did I mention that when I'm excited and talking too much, I sometimes take leave of my senses?  I bought 4 lbs of fresh cod (there are only two of us) AND a big bag of turnip greens (our garden is full of both salad greens and cooking greens... I mean, it's evident the absolute last grocery item we could possibly need is leafy green veg, but there you have it, I just had to have some).

caribougrrl wore her favourite rhubarb-hunting footwear,
 but to be honest, you'd have trouble finding an event
that she didn't think of as an excuse to wear rubber boots.  

As an aside, but an important one if you ever plan to tour Newfoundland by car, the drive we continued on is part of the Baccalieu Trail, one of the official "scenic routes" of the province.  Newfoundland has few roads and most roads outside of St. John's that aren't the Trans Canada highway, are coastal, so driving almost anywhere in the province is part of a scenic route.  I don't mean to sound dismissive... the scenery really is spectacular in a wild-fantastic tumble-into-the-ocean way.  Not that we noticed, eyes trained as they were to try and pick out patches of broad deep-green leaves breaking up the otherwise scrappy early summer vegetation.  Incidentally, the blueberry plants are heavy with flowers right now, and not that I'm wishing time away, but I'm already looking forward to berry season.  


We diverted whenever the road looked reasonably safe and occasionally pulled over to check out some promising vegetative patterns (no luck).  We spotted a few lonely looking rhubarb patches that on closer inspection appeared to belong to a house being lived in.  We took the dogs for a walk at Perry's Cove (no rhubarb) and toyed with the idea of knocking on a couple of doors where the backyard rhubarb looked like it wasn't being used.  Yet in the end, our mainlander selves got the best of us and we decided to keep looking rather than be sociable.

In Ochre Pit Cove, there was a brilliant looking patch of rhubarb that seemed to belong to an obviously empty and unused house.  But so many neighbours out about.  Deciding to wait for a more covert opportunity we pressed on.  The gas gauge by now was getting a bit low; worrisomely low actually.  We went past a few abandoned properties taking a mental note to check on the way home if we didn't have better luck before then.  There are some really huge rhubarb patches tended in front yards and back yards along that stretch of coast.  We began to develop rhubarb-envy.  When the gas station I knew would be our saving grace in Northern Bay turned out to be closed down, we decided that was the signal to turn ourselves around and head back.

Those abandoned properties we saw earlier were too long abandoned.  If there had ever been rhubarb, there wasn't any more.  But some good finds anyway:  a few apple trees in bloom, though from the evidence at the scene, we might have to fight through some grazing sheep for them come fall (I am only mostly kidding, I wouldn't aggravate sheep just for a few apples, and we do have an apple spot already, but you never know when you need a second picking ground).  But those are the breaks, sometimes these scavenging trips are a bust.  For good measure, we kept going slowly and kept our eyes peeled all the way home.  And forget the money in our pockets, not only had we spent it on fish and greens, but there was nary a roadside rhubarb stand to be seen.    

When we'd finally given up, easy walking distance from
home, there it was.  The mythical feral rhubarb!

A few hours after we'd started out, feeling a teensy bit disappointed (but we had fish!), we drove back into Harbour Grace.  Which is when Fefe Noir was struck by a metaphorical thunderbolt.  Harbour Grace.  Along the water.  Walking distance from home.  THAT might be where she'd seen the rhubarb.  

The full haul.

Sure enough, precariously clinging to the edge, there it was.  A rogue patch of beautiful rhubarb, likely taken root after being dumped with other yard waste over the edge.  So we got out, sat securely on what we hoped was solid cliff-edge and plucked enough rhubarb to both meet our immediate needs and ensure some new growth. 

Likely part of the reason we exhausted our own rhubarb is that we have been picking it incorrectly over the last few years and thereby not encouraging it to spread.  As it turns out, you should not cut it with a knife.  Grab and twist those suckers right out of the ground. (If you'll allow me another diversion, here is where I confess that I grew up parented by gardeners, gardeners who know how to maintain rhubarb, gardeners who undoubtedly taught me how to pick rhubarb.  I should have paid better attention.)

Fully successful and feeling rather pleased with ourselves, we took our bounty back home.  We ignored the spatchcocked chicken in the fridge prepped for our supper; it could wait another day.  What we needed at the end of this day was obvious: fresh cod, wrapped with sage in bacon, cooked on the barbecue   Life doesn't get any better.  Well, it does, but if I told you what we drank with it, that would spoil an upcoming post...

Bacon and sage wrapped cod.  Life could be worse.