Kitchen nightmares

As I mentioned yesterday, I celebrated my houses's rehydration with a bout of baking, and I think it's fair to say that I did a half good job. Without it being an exaggeration, I've done more baking over the course of the last year or so than in the rest of my life put together, and whilst my historical lack of culinary prowess doesn't exactly make that a difficult feat, it's still been something of a personal revelation.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not putting myself in the Gordon Ramsay league as packets and instructions still largely dictate my cooking technique, but I've been branching out and yesterday I made my first ever quiche which, even if I say so myself, came out rather well. It was a bacon and broccoli affair, and whilst Chef Ramsay would most likely have taken a forkful and declared it to be bland, I was very pleased.

I said at the beginning of this post that I did a half good job though, and there was indeed a downside to my relative success with the quiche. I also made a couple of apple pies, which should have been in the oven for around an hour, but they ended up baking for considerably longer. When I spoke to Melanie on the phone in the evening I proudly told her all about my adventures in baking, but as I was doing so I remembered the apple pies, and the fact that they were still in the oven.

It wasn't as bad as my spoon-based misadventures from earlier in the year, but after three and a half hours I don't think the pies were as moist as they could have been; apple crisp is a popular dish in these parts, but these were more like apple burnt-to-a-crisp. I probably do myself an injustice there as I think what emerged is still going to be edible, but a large amount of apple filling remained in the oven having burst through the pie crusts, and is now charcoaled in lumps at the bottom in a small-scale recreation of the last day of Pompeii.

I'm currently debating as to whether I should clean up the mess since it could eventually be of archaeological interest to future generations, but as I'm still going to be here for the next month I think history is going to have to lose out on this occasion. I'm going to make a cake at the weekend though...

Parting is such sweet sorrow

No sooner had she arrived than she was gone.

I saw Melanie off at the airport this morning, and although it's only seven weeks until I'll see her again it feels like an eternity at the moment. We had a wonderful ten days together but it all went by so quickly; it only seems like yesterday that we were (contemplating) eating archaeologically significant bars of chocolate and antique almond cookies.

The fare was far more palatable on Wednesday night, when we attended the official opening of the new student residence - the Nasivvik. Many of the Kativik School Board's great and good were in town for the event, and after the seal skin ribbon was cut we were all invited inside for some (mercifully short) speeches and some (mercifully abundant) food. Roland, Annie-Claude and all the students did a wonderful job in preparing the building to receive such a large number of guests, and I was surprised by just how many of the dignitaries I knew or, failing that, knew me.

I suppose I've been in the North long enough now to establish a reputation of sorts, and whilst reputations are not always justly earned or bestowed, it was certainly heartening to learn from various sources that my work of the past four years has been viewed in a positive light. My probable (permanent) departure in May was common knowledge - word travels fast in these parts - and I guess I should take it as a complement that no-one I spoke to wanted me to leave, but despite the fact that you should never say never, all things being equal my life in a northern town has just seven weeks left to run...

A false economy

Well, we've now managed to track down our boxes. They are languishing in red tape purgatory in Kuujjuaq, with my school board claiming that they are 'personal effects' and consequently our responsibility in terms of cargo fees. My contract allows me a certain amount of food cargo in a year though - an allowance which I have not come close to using up - and Melanie and I have spent the afternoon continuing the game of phone tag that we began yesterday in an attempt to convince the Board the boxes did in fact contain food as opposed to some form of contraband personal items. I think everything has now been sorted out and we should be receiving our boxes tomorrow...we shall see.

In the meantime, we ventured down to the Co-op yesterday where there is currently a 'promotion week', meaning that many items have been discounted to prices comparable to or, in some cases even cheaper than, the south. We didn't go mad, but we were able to buy a few essentials, such as enough toilet roll to last me until I leave in May, as well as some nice cookies (which could probably be counted as essentials if I think about it) for a knockdown price, and when I got home from school today we opened one of the packets of cookies - Voortman's Almond Krunch.

Melanie took one bite and immediately spat it straight back out, but I carried on with mine, branding her a fussy eater and muttering something along the lines of 'at least they were cheap.' The more I ate the more I realised that they did in fact taste a bit funny though, and it was at this stage that Melanie checked the sell by date...

March 30 2007.

I'm glad we bought the toilet roll.

Four of our boxes are missing

Melanie finally arrived safely last night, the only hitch in her journey being a two hour delay in Kuujjuaq due to a missing plane. Well, it wasn't really missing as such, more a question of being in the wrong place, but it was eventually located and Melanie was able to make the last leg of her journey without further hindrance.

The same can't be said of the boxes of food that should have been accompanying her though, which are now somewhere in transit between Montreal and Kangiqsujuaq. We have already started playing phone tag and who knows, the boxes might arrive before Melanie has to leave at the end of next week. That won't be a problem as far as the dried goods and cans are concerned, but I'm not sure how the milk is going to fare.

Good job we like yogurt.

Keeping a weather eye open

As I have mentioned before in these pages, the morning routine in these parts usually involves looking out the window and thinking 'please let there be a blizzard', but not today. Melanie is on March break at the moment, and as I type at breakfast time she is quite literally on her way up to see me! We've only had two snow days since I've been in Kangiqsujuaq, one of which was when I attempted to fly home at Christmas, and I shall be keeping my fingers crossed that we don't get our third today.

Melanie's not been back to the North since she left Inukjuak in 2007, and it will be very interesting for her to be able to compare her experience there with life in this particular northern town, as both the geography and the inhabitants are quite different here. She's also bringing up a few boxes of food with her, which will hopefully be enough to see me through until the end of my time here in May. One downside of her visit is that I've had to clean the house, but I guess that's a small price to pay for Melanie and food!

At the moment it's a bit misty but generally calm outside, although I've just seen on the forecast that the wind is meant to pick up both here and in Kuujjuaq later today. It shouldn't be enough to stop the planes from flying but fingers will remain firmly crossed, and hopefully my next posting will contain news of Melanie's (and the food's) safe arrival.

The bear facts

Whither yesterday's polar bear?

Shot. Skinned. Eaten (and no, I didn't get any).

Such is life in a northern town.

Grin and bear it

It's not every day that you get a phone call warning you not to leave the house because there's a polar bear outside, but earlier this evening that's exactly what happened. My first instinct was to get outside and go and look for the thing, but then I took time to consider the situation and decided against it because:

a) it's pitch black outside
b) it's about -30
c) all I'd have with which to defend myself should I actually encounter said bear would be the set of mini screwdrivers that I got in a cracker at Christmas

So consequently I remained indoors, and indoors I remain - obviously, as I wouldn't be typing this otherwise - awaiting news of the fate of the bear. Maybe it will remain on the run all night so that we won't be able to go into school tomorrow, but I wouldn't bet on it. A more likely scenario is that, in the next day or two, I might be able to add polar bear to the list of foods that I've tried since I've been in the North.

Maybe it'll go with Kraft Dinner...

Cutting the cheese

I've received a great deal of culinary advice since I wrote about my dalliance with Kraft Dinners last week, and in the breaks between updating my iPod I've really been going to town in the kitchen. Last night I went as far as adding a tin of tuna and a tin of mixed vegetables to my pan of mac and cheese, and it must only be a matter of time before I receive an invitation to take part in the next season of Hell's Kitchen.

I also still have two chunks of mystery meat in my freezer - could be caribou, could be whale - but I've been a bit wary about tackling them as they're both as big as my head and I don't possess a suitable cleaver with which to carve them up. If I can get round to borrowing one then I can expand my repertoire still further, but until such time we'll stick with more traditional fare.

Oh and speaking of cheese, which we were earlier, I read today about an employee of McDonald's in the Netherlands who was fired because she gave a colleague a free slice of the stuff. It seems that she gave a co-worker on a break a more expensive cheeseburger instead of the hamburger that she'd paid for, and as this contravened the company's rules that prohibit staff from giving free gifts to friends, family or colleagues, she was given the sack. She's now won her court case for unfair dismissal, but I don't think the $6000 she was awarded in compensation will make too much of a dent in McDonald's 2009 fourth quarter profit of $1.2 billion, which they announced last week.

Makes you think: if someone is fired for stealing a piece of cheese, I wonder what would happen if they stole a whole burger? Might explain why we don't see Hamburglar any more...

There is no spoon

I melted a spoon today.

Now, that can't be a sentence that has been written too often before, if at all, so let me explain. I fancied some rice for lunch so I put on a pan of water to boil whilst I was watching the end of the soccer on TV, but so engrossed in the game did I become that I completely forgot about my boiling water until my eardrums were all but burst by the smoke alarm going off (at least I now know it works).

As I turned my head away from the screen I was suddenly aware that the house had filled with smoke over the course of the second half, and after frantically scrambling upstairs to shut off the alarm I set about trying to find the source of what I thought must be a fire because, after all, there's no smoke without one. It was only when I entered the kitchen that I remembered my pan, and upon closer inspection the mystery was solved.

There had been no fire - thus disproving the maxim I referred to earlier - but for some unknown reason I had left a plastic mixing spoon in the water as it boiled (a spoon with which I eventually intended to stir my rice), and now not only was there no water left but there was no spoon either. Only the part of the handle that must have been sticking out of the pan remained, and the scene was reminiscent of one of those photos of spontaneous human combustion where all that is left of the victim is a disembodied lower leg, complete with slipper.

The rest of the spoon had totally dissolved, and I now had to run around the house opening all the windows in order to let out the resulting smoke, which I guess wasn't too toxic as I'm still here some hours later relaying the story to you. I abandoned the whole rice idea until this evening - luckily I had a back-up p(l)an - and on this occasion I didn't leave the kitchen until the whole meal was cooked and on my plate.

I think I'll stick to sandwiches from now on.

Extra time

It's been more than 'a couple of days' since my last post I know, but as I've said before I tend to lose all track of chronological perspective at this time of year so you will have to excuse me. Christmas has now been and gone but we had a good one, and I've been able to catch up with most our friends in and around Kingston. I've also been catching up with eating too and have put on about eight pounds since I've been back, but when you consider the fact that I lost twenty pounds between August and December then it's probably not such a bad thing. I don't eat badly in the North, but there's less snacking - trips to Tim Hortons are not a particularly realistic proposition - and I guess the cold must effect my metabolism in a weight reducing manner.

It should be less than a week before my return to Kangiqsujuaq, but as is rapidly becoming a Christmas tradition (well, it happened last year as well) I need to visit the dentist, and with my appointment booked for Monday - the day I should have flown back - this will necessitate a few extra days in the South. Whilst the prospect of going under the knife (or whatever instruments dentists use) is not a pleasant one, a few extra days at home with Melanie is a good pay-off, so it might be a little while yet before the blog comes to you live from Nunavik once again.

Not sure what we're doing for New Year's yet, but I shall wish you a happy one for now as the next post probably won't be until 2010 (that's next year, not ten past eight). Happy New Year!

Walk out to winter

Well, I think it's safe to say that our winter is now well and truly here to stay. It snowed all day Friday, and we had a bit of a blizzard yesterday, making it virtually impossible to see the mountain/hill that I climbed only last weekend. To be honest, I don't really mind it once the snow is thick on the ground; what I don't like is the transition period when it snows one day and rains the next, turning the town into a slushy grey mess, but it looks like our transition period has been a short one this year.

I hosted a potluck evening at my house yesterday; despite the weather there was a good turnout, and thanks to everyone's efforts we had an obscene amount of wonderful food to enjoy. The only thing that didn't really get eaten was my Spaghetti Bolognese, but Tupperware and freezers are wonderful things and I now have plenty of leftovers to enjoy at my leisure. It's Thanksgiving Day tomorrow so I should be eating turkey, but I think that some of the Spag Bol could be getting an outing, unless I decide to defrost another slab of 'mystery meat' instead.

Choices, choices.

Christmas in September

It felt like Christmas today.

Firstly, the container ship that was carrying our cargo of school supplies finally arrived, and now we have paper and binders for our classes. Earlier today my students actually used up the last piece of writing paper that we had in the classroom, so the ship's appearance couldn't have come at a better time; quite what we would have used to write on next week I hadn't figured out yet.

Then, having returned home at the end of the school day, I received a knock on the door from our centre director, Mark Tertiluk, who was kindly delivering four boxes of food that had just arrived at the airport for me! Melanie flew back to the UK yesterday for a very brief visit - she flies back to Canada on Monday - and on her way to Montreal she dropped off said boxes at Air Inuit HQ. Apparently they were originally going to take a couple of weeks to come up, but Melanie smiled at the right people and, lo and behold, here they are. Talk about service!

I now have just about the fullest larder that I've ever had in my time in the North - Melanie had even managed to slip in a box of Timbits for me, a rare pleasure in these parts - and after a week of illness, I suddenly feel much better!

For whom the Bell tolls

During my time in the North, as regular readers of this blog will know, I have partaken in many weird and wonderful foodstuffs, but today I sampled a delicacy that just about trumps the lot.

I am referring to the Taco Bell Bean Burrito.

Now, I do not normally frequent the shores of Lake Taco Bell, but with only loose change in my pocket I was taken in by their Bean Burrito's $1.29 price tag, and as a consequence the term 'false economy' now has a new clarity of meaning for me.

For a start, the picture above bore no resemblance to what I got for my 129 cents. It my not look appealing, but at least in that illustration there are four distinct layers: cheese, sour cream (maybe), some red sauce and....well, a brown gloop. My bean burrito consisted of just the brown gloop. Maybe there was cheese in it. Maybe there was sour cream in it. Maybe there was red sauce in it. Maybe there were even beans in it. Who knows? Whatever was in it though, it was certainly the ultimate in fast food as it seemed to have been thoughtfully pre-chewed for me.

However, I was really hungry and I had paid good money, so I went ahead and ate my gloopy, pre-masticated beanfeast, but I was more hungry after I finished it than I was when I started! I must have used up more energy in the effort of eating the damn thing than I actually got out of it, so at the end of the whole exercise I was not even back where I started, I was back at a point before I even thought about starting.

You know, maybe Michaelle Jean didn't eat that seal heart out of cultural solidarity with the Inuit after all. Maybe the only other item on the menu was a bean burrito...

Have a heart!

I read today that Michaelle Jean, Canada's Governor General, ate a raw seal heart when she visited a festival in Rankin Inlet, an Inuit community in Nunavut. Apparently, the EU voted to ban Canadian seal products recently, and an EU spokesman described the Governor General's actions as "too bizarre to acknowledge."

What a completely ignorant statement to make.

Mention seal hunting to most Europeans, and they will picture fluffy baby seals being clubbed over the head by unfeeling, profit seeking fishermen. Ask them what they think, and most will comment that such practices are inhumane and should be banned. Now, I must say that a few years ago I too would have been one of those Europeans, but living and working with the Inuit has changed my view on this issue.

The ability to hunt seal and other animals is what sustained the Inuit as a race for century upon century. Their meat and skins were absolutely vital for survival, and although all the trappings of the south are now readily available, the ability to hunt is still prized and cultivated amongst the people of the North. The notion of hunting is in the genes, and to use words such as 'bizarre' when talking about this subject is not just ignorant; it is insulting.

Whilst the encroachment of southern ways has brought many advantages to the North, the Inuit people have also been dealt many abuses, both psychologically and socially, as a result. Changes that took centuries to take hold in the south have been made in just a couple of generations in the North, so the maintenance of what is a strong cultural heritage should be encouraged. The eating of 'country food', as the Inuit refer to it, forms part of that heritage, and I count myself as fortunate to have first-hand experience, just as Michaelle Jean now has.

The motivation and methods of those that hunt seal for profit could, and perhaps should, be questioned. However, the hunting of seal in communities such as Rankin Inlet is of a completely different nature, and I would like to see that EU spokesman make a visit to the North so that in future his comments could be more informed. I doubt that will happen though; pigs will fly sooner.

Oh, but wait a minute - haven't we already had swine flu?

Did you see what I did there? 'Flu' sounds just like 'flew', and I was talking about pigs flying.....

Never mind.

And everybody lived

I am very proud of myself today.

I am also very relieved.

I had guests over at the weekend, and I cooked for them; I'll just give you a moment to take that in....Now for me, cooking is very much the equivalent of landing a man on the Moon. No, I don't mean the 'being faked and it didn't actually happen' part; rather, it very rarely happens and takes a huge amount of planning when it does.

I admit that I did receive some help from Betty Crocker in making part of the dessert, but I made pizzas from scratch and I also baked a rhubarb crumble, which was very much a first and actually came out very well indeed, even if I say so myself.

But the most gratifying part of the whole experience was that, upon my return to work today, my weekend guests are still alive and well.

As is my motto in the kitchen, any meal that you can walk away from is a good meal.

I Am The Walrus

WARNING - This post contains pictures that those of you with sensitive stomachs may find distressing, and I don't just mean the photos of yours truly.

The return of a successful hunter has always been a time for celebration in the Inuit culture, and in modern times this is still the case, as illustrated by the return of the good ship Kakivak today with its haul of walrus for the community. Seal is the staple marine based catch of substance in the North but walrus, although not the meat of choice for many, makes for a nice change, according to one of my Inuit friends.

The harbour was already busy when we arrived, and the walrus meat was flying off the metaphorical shelves just as fast as the carcasses could be unloaded from the boat. Despite the flurry of activity, there is a distinct sense of order about these occasions, which is just as well considering the proliferation of knives, ulus and cleavers on display. The meat is shared, everyone takes what they need, and the atmosphere is one of controlled excitement.

Many of the locals can't wait until they get home to eat their bounty - like when you'd been allowed to buy a new toy and you just had to play with it in the car on the way home, even though you'd been told not to because if you opened the box when the car went over a bump in the road you'd lose bits down behind the seats and get all upset - so much of the meat is consumed, raw, on site. Inuit sushi, if you will.

Gordon Ramsay, eat your heart out! (especially since someone's probably already eaten the heart out of the walrus). In all truth though, nothing is wasted, and maybe before the school term ends in May I might be able to sample the delicacy that is igunaq - fermented rotten frozen walrus. They bury these huge steaks in summer, when they start to rot, and they freeze in winter. You eat them a year later. Hmmmmm...fermented walrus.

So, a very interesting day all told. It's not often you get to eat out up here, and whilst the menu was somewhat limited, at least the ingredients were fresh. And you certainly didn't want to get on the wrong side of the chef:

He is the eggman. Goo goo g'joob.