cookin the pot

 So, the below photos are well, pictures of a story. One about knives .Maybe I will add that here as well....here is the story on paper.......some of it may have been changes as I come up with new words, phrases each time I write things down. This was always a problem for me , always thinking that nothing i wrote was good enough, as if it has all been said. The Knives. They hang at both ends of the small cosy kitchen. Some have storied histories and others are stamp out factory regulars, but all are sentinels. They guide and silently comment on my culinary career, offering guidance and remembrance each time I chose one for the task at hand. Every year they are hauled out of the wood blocks, tabled and given a wash and clean, sharp edge. I pick up each one to wipe away the year’s layered dust and grime. I often pause, thinking of where each one came from. The cooking stories, the positions held, and the places seen. Many meals, diced , sliced, and chopped and remembered throu

 This will take some time to woodburn.... carrying this with the others will be a snowshoe adventure...later, when there is snow!

  I was just reading a favourite at The Guardian,, restaurant guy Jay Rayner. Writing about restaurants in these times and what exactly they mean for him as eater/critic. He points out that maybe, just maybe he became a critic due to a trip at a young age to a restaurant that still holds memory for him. So, on that point..... I remember little of restaurants as a very young child in Corner Brook, but a few stand out. First, there was Coleman's next door to nan and pop's place on Howley rd. It holds tight in my foodie head because of the one item we would go there to get as often as possible. They made loose meat hamburgers on steamed buns! I would swirl around on the stool with great anticipation, thinking the faster I went the quicker the burger would get there. One street over , well road, Caribou road in fact, on the other side of Colemans there were four Chinese restaurants and I remember one in particular because the sons of the owners loved coming to

  El Chalten found my hat this morning , on the floor, walking down the stairs, still like a kid, head hurting but not wanting to miss anything so up what I think is early......after last night...so much wine...cooked for 9( pasta with puttanesca sauce--yes on the anchovies, grilled chicken, bruschetta, and flambe apples as the hostel looked on)... demoed a proper steak deal for a dutch guy, .gave some of the apples to the lady working the desk ...butter her up as the wine flowed and knowing she will tell us to keep it down--which she did do, politely before she left...... did a 5 hour hike yesterday,,cannot remember the name.....anyhow up we go to lunch in the snow on top of the mountain....nimble fingers enabled me to eat my sandwich.........mark `skied` down as I fumbled with my phone trying to take a picture......missed mo course...I ran down to try and warm the body......as we entered the forest I slowly moved ahead as the combo or German and Swiss German gets a bit much afte

random thought on BBQ Barbeque is fire and food. A simple fact that often gets missed when so many are more concerned with the gadgets, complex recipes and a multitude of side dishes. I converted back from propane to lump charcoal a few years back. Of course I am asked why—it is so much slower, inconvenient when you want to `grill` something fast, or an ad hoc party after a few too many. Essentially though it is that process that brings one back to cooking. I cook for a living and while that job entails many methods, recipes, a hectic pace, and long hours, BBQ brings me back to something primal. This slowing down helps me think back to what cooking is suppose to be about. We live in an age that has seen food porn, the eat local movement(elitist and/or down to earth), the rise of the celebrity chefs(worldly and local), the multitude of food channels and internet blogs, develop a culture of food never before seen. Constantly bombarded with food from all angles. At the same time, in this

  --We could web auction local wine again, or maybe crowd source for a new stove and use the cash to pay off what we owe FOODSPOTTING? Usual monday morning as we try to get organized for another week. The restaurant had been down spinning for a short time and a strategizing session was well under way. Our algorithm was working overtime in the lean winter months trying to get reservations.   --Okay, Dave, I need you to get on to OPEN TABLE and keep at it every day this week, something you guys in front of house should be on top of. Also, FOODSPOT a few plates  `NOM IT` a few on the sly and then track it okay?. Maybe we can rework the price point to move a few different plates this week. --Our tweets on the salmon terrine have been down this week. Mel, I want you to beetweet that it is on special, drop it by 3%, tie it to a salad of some such, we need to use up some produce this week. Hashtag it with `local` and something, you figure it out. Try not to bulltwit it though, maybe get a TWI

ready to burn.......

By the time Claire had made it to sous chef she was still fighting an up hill battle in a Melbourne culinary scene dominated by men. After years toiling behind the likes of Mcmanus, Smith – Thomas and the impish and trying hellion, Atwater, Claire found herself thrust into a pressure cooker at Bistro Covenant in suburban St Kilda's. Here under the tutelage of George Herbor she excelled at her position in garde manger focusing on regional interpretations for pates and terrines. She became well known for her country pate sourcing out Hellman's pork from down in Warragul and eventually would see her efforts hijacked by Herbor as he stole the ingredient list and had a factory kitchen in Geelong mass produce her product for the home meal replacement market. Not to be denied Claire would leave Covenant and open up her gourmet chiko roll shop in Geelong with great success eventually landing a contract to supply Qantas on it's over nighters to Christchurch.     This one will b

 

 a small story....left in the woods....soon...

 http://nqonline.ca/   recent article I wrote in here.....

Seaworthy notes from the past....not that long ago.... Fleece does not do well on the back of a quad in Resolute bay. I found this out last night. I was going ashore to meet up with a few of the crew already there. Derm said he would drop me off by the town but first had to pick up the ol man (skipper) at the oil pump house. I was about to help skipper and bacon boy (all 300 plus) in to the boat a couple of quads pulled up. At first I thought this was a couple of locals just dropping by. Speedy quads are the everyday way to get around these parts (earlier in Pangnirtung, as I awaited the boys outside the store a quad pulled up with what looked like mom, baby and grandma crammed aboard). It turned out to be the boys from the ship. They had rented (for 20 bucks) a couple of quad for an hour. One guy decided to go back to the ship so I waved the rest down and hopped aboard. Man, the dust was something else. Resolute is nothing but gravel, dirt and bald hills t

This just popped into my head as I was reading about rice dishes....... So I was working one day slogging on painful feet as it was hour 9 with and the line was about to begin for 2nd breakfast. Someone mentioned the other line that was to the left. Shuttered and now a holding area for dishes, staff meals and odds and ends. The Dutch chief cook began to explain that at one time both lines were open and the Dutch ate from one and the Malaysians from the other. Segregated food lines on a heavy lift platform. What was interesting was that he then detailed this by stating that when he said Dutch he meant all the whites on board and Malaysian, you guessed it non white. The Americans when they came on board one trip (I guess some years ago) decided that this was not right and viola, one line now and this is where you can still see the frustrated Dutch as they have to line up to get their food with everyone else. His words. As to the rice dishes. I was reading a co

We think differently about food; it’s not just something you taste, it’s something you experience - at Scanway we base our business operations on that philosophy. The above statement comes from the web page of our caterer. After another day's pitiful lunch I thought it was time to look at the food as because, like being at sea, meal times are something to look forward to! Well, after 14 days holed up in a hotel, I really wanted to say that the food, the three squares a day that we had, made this trying time just a little bearable. After all, we were not allowed to leave the property, or have any food (or anything else for that matter) dropped off. I even began to pine, yes pine for a timbit, or french frie as I stared down each day at the busy drive thrus of mickie dees and timmies. My hands by the end of the first week, plastered against the 5 th story glass just wishing. I pondered what snack jiffy lube (directly across from my window, may have behind the counter! A

I was just reading a favourite at The Guardian,, restaurant guy Jay Rayner. Writing about restaurants in these times and what exactly they mean for him as eater/critic. He points out that maybe, just maybe he became a critic due to a trip at a young age to a restaurant that still holds memory for him. So, on that point..... I remember little of restaurants as a very young child in Corner Brook, but a few stand out. First, there was Coleman's next door to nan and pop's place on Howley rd. It holds tight in my foodie head because of the one item we would go there to get as often as possible. They made loose meat hamburgers on steamed buns! I would swirl around on the stool with great anticipation, thinking the faster I went the quicker the burger would get there. One street over , well road, Caribou road in fact, on the other side of Colemans there were four Chinese restaurants and I remember one in particular because the sons of the owners loved coming

I am stuck. In more ways than one. Stuck in general due to I was suppose to fly out thursday and it was cancelled by the airline—weather maybe but there are so many other factors at play right now. On wednesday the group email told of the cancellation and then stated that we (crew) would be flown over to Halifax at some point and then be put into a hotel for fourteen days of isolation before going to sea for five weeks work. So it goes in this strange time. So, I ponder and wonder and came back to trying to finish a few written things that have back burnered for too long. Close to a year now, this has bounced around in my head and over the course of a few attempts I will stab at it again, try to get something down. It is about the Chinese ship. Last year I went on a Chinese seismic ship for six weeks. While I have via email written about the trials and tribulations of six weeks on a ship it was mostly ranting about fellow Canadian crew, and the difficulties of working with ano