Small mercy: fewer car alarms

As I was cycling home from work this evening, it struck me that my aural landscape is nowadays much less polluted by car alarms than it seems to have been 5 to 10 years ago. I don't think there are fewer cars, and I doubt the percentage of cars with car alarms has done anything but increase, so I wonder how this is possible. Are the alarm sirens now less obnoxious than they used to be? Are thieves better at stealing cars without setting off the alarms? Is it just that I've been living in a nicer and quieter neighbourhood post-2005 than pre-2005? Have I become less attuned to them? Whatever the reasons, I'm glad for this small mercy.

Five on the fifth: Adirondacks NY

See The State Of The Nation UK for more on Five On The Fifth, where one takes 5 pics on the fifth of the month and publishes them online.

On September 5, 2009, I happened to be not in my usual Montreal, but hiking in the Adirondacks, from Marcy Dam past Avalanche Pass and Colden to the base of Mount Marcy.

That night I camped high in the mountains, far from electricity, with no option to post pictures, which is why I'm posting this rather after the fact. I suppose you might even call this 5 of the 5th on the 22nd, except that wouldn't sound so snappy.

For technical reasons beyond my ken, I can't get the captions to display in the desired place (below each picture) so here they are in one list:

1. View from Marcy Dam.
2. In case you wondered why it's called Avalanche Pass.
3. Cedar growing straight up out of a cliff at Colden Lake.
4. Full view of said cedar. Note also the boardwalk over the lake.
5. Colden Lake, after we reached the end/tip.

Hiking Camel's Hump VT

I got up early Sunday morning to get ready for a hike in Vermont. My friend C. picked me up around 6:15 am, after he'd picked up M., then we picked up one more hiker, and we set out for Vermont. Some construction on Autoroute 10 incited us to take a detour on Autoroute 15. The nice thing about this unplanned change was that after crossing the Canada/US border at Rouse's Point, we took some bridges and causeways over Lake Champlain, alongside the Mississquoi delta, along a floodplain with farms, and back to US Interstate 89 in Vermont, which is itself very pretty, passing through rolling farmland and then into the Green Mountains.

We got to the trailhead for Camel's Hump much later than we would have liked to, and after stretching legs and getting ready, we only hit the trail at 9:30am. However the hike up was much, much faster than expected, and we were at the summit for 11:30am. Partly this was because M. was leading most of the way (he's planning to hike to Mount Everest's Base Camp next spring) but partly the terrain was much easier than we expected. The summit is just above the treeline in the alpine zone (rather a rarity in Vermont, only on 3 mountaintops, Camel's Hump being the 2nd tallest in the state). The view was stunning and despite a bit of haze we could see the Adirondacks (NY, across Lake Champlain), other peaks of the Green Mountains, the White Mountains (NH), the Monteregian Hills in Quebec, and even Mount Royal (we think). (As a food report, I might mention that one of the "summit stewards" - who remind people not to walk on sensitive alpine vegetation along with spreading goodwill and taking your picture plus repairing trails too - shared some Ghirardelli chocolate chips with me... mmm). We left the peak around 12:15.

For the hike down we had a few trail options. We could have come down the same way we went up, but we took a longer route. We expected the descent would be more gradual, since you have the same height to descend but are doing it in a longer distance. Once again, somehow we had misread the terrain on the map (despite contour lines and all) so it was both longer and steeper. There were, however, some very nice lookout points on the way.

From start at 9:30am to finish at 3:30pm, it was an exquisite shorter hike.

See Strokkur Spew!

Geysir (the Icelandic original, after which all others were named) no longer gushes all that often, but just a few metres away is his son Strokkur who faithfully erupts every 4-6 minutes. He even offered some double-spews and triple-spews. He is said to shoot up to 20m high, but it looks higher to me, if I can judge 20m in relation to the observers standing by. Watching Strokkur shoot his stuff gave me the same exhilarating WHEEEEEEE! feeling of riding a roller-coaster.

Iceland - next stop

Yesterday in Isafjordur, it was glorious out, sunny, and perhaps above 20C. I hiked up one river from sea-level up to where snow-melt feeds it - though technically not to the very stop, that would have required mountaineering skills beyond my ken - then back down a second river. There were many waterfalls (and photographs) along the way. I didn't want to ford the rivers/brooks while hiking all alone, which required some detours. Often I had to hike upstream to get to a waterfall, where the stream would be broken into several branches, making crossing easier... and the overall trek longer! I was beat by the time I got back to town in the evening.

This morning I leave Isafjordur to head south. I think I should get a stop in at Latrabjarg, a huge bird sanctuary with very tame puffins. Unfortunately, puffins seem to take a siesta (do they know this is Iceland, not Spain?) from 2-4 each day and I'll be there 2-3:30, but hopefully there will be some night owls, so to speak. From there, I take a ferry across the Breidafjordur. If weather is okay, tomorrow I'll do a whirl through the Snafellsnes peninsula for one last taste of fjords, glaciers, volcanos, and sandur before returning to Reykjavik for a few days... and then heading back to Canada in a few short days' time.

Victor

Isafjordur, Iceland

Here in Iceland, in the grocery stores, some foodstuffs are expensive, fresh produce in grocery stores sometimes looks a little dreary (except locally grown hydroponics), but fish and dairy products are very reasonably priced. Yesterday I bought some smoked herring for about CAD$1, enough for 3 people to share and have lots of each. (It was very nice stuff too.) And the dairy products, yum yum! I have been eating lots and lots of skyr, which is like a thick creamy yogourt, except technically a cheese, and it's actually basically fat free. I'm surprised I still like it! I make up with 3.9% milk with breakfast, and occasional treats of "Þykkmjólk" which has about 5% fat (the first letter of Þykkmjólk, if it doesn´t come through, is the letter "thorn" which looks kind of like a P and is "th" like in "thistle", not to be confused with the letter "eth" which looks like a D with a slash and is "th" like in "that"). There are so many milk beverages that many grocery stores have a multilingual chart in the dairy section to tell foreigners what it all is. Yum. There is butter too, which is very good, and usually unsalted.

Tonight I went to a local restaurant specialising in seafood. They are part of the local maritime museum, and they serve whatever the catch of the day is. One of the choices was halibut (my favourite fish), another was salt cod (which I don't think I've ever actually tried) with chili sauce, and there were about two other fish to choose from. I hesitated between the halibut and salt cod, and chose the halibut. While I waited for my order, a French couple walked in, and shared my table (it was crowded). One ordered the salt cod, one ordered something else. When our 3 dishes arrived, I discovered shrimp in the sauce of my halibut. I am allergic to shrimp, and was wondering how I was going to explain this to the waitress whose English was good but not perfect. Fortunately the man (of the French couple) was willing to swap plates with me and I ended up with the salt cod. It was a bit salty, but very delicious and well-prepared. Sorry, I forgot to take a picture.

I did take a picture of the lamb I had last night in the hotel in town. I understand the chef was French-trained, but whatever the case, it was delicious. If you are ever in Iceland, you must try the lamb, even if you are a lamb-hater. It is very tender, juicy, and mild, and almost completely devoid of the sheepy flavour you get in Canadian and New Zealand lamb.

Two nice restaurant meals, two days in a row: a bit of a splurge, so tomorrow it's back to camping grub... er, self-catered meals.

Today I went sea-kayaking in Isafjordur, and tomorrow I will go hiking in the area. The buses here in the West Fjords only run thrice weekly, so I will have had three whole nights here - the longest I have stayed put since leaving Reykjavik! - before continuing south to Reykjavik. The weather was okay Friday, and great yesterday and today. It is supposed to be rainy for the next few days. I guess that when it's rainy, it's better to spend part of your day in a bus rather than in a tent or out hiking, kayaking, etc... and I'll have a bit of buses for the next few days as I make my way back to Reykjavik with detours to the Snaefellsnes peninsula in West Iceland for more glacier and volcano chasing.

It's now midnight, with only a hint of sunset colours in the sky. It never gets dark. The light here is fantastic, though it's hard to make myself wind down and go to bed at the end of the day... but that's what I'll do now, so I can get up relatively early tomorrow for my hike.

Jökulsárlón

I knew I was forgetting something. Well, I've omitted lots of wonderful sights, like some of the waterfalls and geological features and glaciers and geothermal fields, but I made no mention at all of Jökulsárlón, where the bus stopped for about 25 minutes. Jökulsárlón is a glacial lagoon, at one tip of the giant glacier Vatnajökull, where chunks of the glacier break off into a tidal lagoon and float around to the delight of visitors before they* head out to sea as icebergs. Little crystal iceberglets wash up on shore for you to eat/crunch/drink if you desire. It's the kind of place where, at least when it comes to the aspect of composition, it's hard to take a bad picture because everywhere you look is stunning. That was definitely one of many "WOWEEEEEEEEEEE" moments on this trip.

(* the glacial chunks, not the visitors)

Iceland's southern coast

I left Reykjavik, on the west coast of Iceland, a few days ago - how easily one loses track of the days of the week on vacation - and am now in Egilsstadir, on the east coast.

The weather has been on and off, with a knack for raining right when I'm taking down my tent. Oh well, you can't have it all and otherwise I'm having a wonderful time.

I have had some wonderful weather, too, like in Vik (fantastic views of sea-stacks, beaches, thye sandar [sand + river wastelands at glacial outflows], Dyrholaey island, Myrdalsjokull glacier) and at Skaftafell National Park (surrounding mountains and glaciers and more sandar, plus many shots of alpine flora).

Speaking of the flora, one thing that you cannot overlook in Iceland are the lupines. They were introduced (apparently from Canada?) to stabilise or improve bad or nutrient-poor soil, like on the sandar, but they've proven to be invasive in this climate; they crowd out native species, and the sheep don't eat them. You can see entire meadows, lava-fields, and mountain-sides painted blue. It's quite beautiful actually, although ecologically not so great.

Speaking of sheep, there are lots of lots of lamb everywhere in the countryside. Usually there are fences but there are free-roaming sheep, and sometimes the buses have to make a quick stop to avoid them. They are mostly white (cream) but some black, a few brown, and a few multi-coloured. They are also very tasty, if I can go by the lamb I had for supper in Vik. Even people who don't like lamb might like it here; it's very mild and tender.

If you ever find yourself in Vik, do check out the church, it's beautiful inside in a nordically restrained elegant way, and the stained glass is marvellous. I would say it's the most beautiful small church I've ever seen. Vik's black-sand beach is stunning, too, though cold for swimming. Bring your own wetsuit/drysuit? But definitely bring your own swimsuit, for the many swimming pools with hot-pots.

I'm in Egilsstadir - the library here has free internet - and in a few hours, I'm off to Seydisfjordur for sea-kayaking. Next stops: Myvatn, Akureyri, and the north of Icleand.

More on Reykjavik

My campground is in a valley surrounded my sports and leisure facilities. You see all sorts of Icelanders out, young and old, Nordic walking (with poles), running, or going to/from the swimming pool. I went swimming yesterday and the mix was the same, young and old. The pool was an outdoor pool with several hot pots (think jacuzzi soaking tubs) to choose from: 38C, 40C, 42C, and 44C. I maxed out at 42C. Maybe I'll try 44C tonight.

Yesterday was the national holiday. I caught the parade downtown - two parades in fact - first a motorcade of old cars, from the 1930s to the 1970s. I didn't realise 1970s cars were considered antiques! After that was the parade of people. By Montreal standards there weren't that many fancy floats but it was a really nice atmosphere. There were, however, a few "Vikings" dressed in bright red, white, and blue superhero outfits with capes (I think) and helmets. Some kayaked down the road (ok, their kayaks were floating atop mini-cranes, with a blue tarp to suggest water), others bounced down the street on springy elliptical stilt-like contraptions. They would cry "BEP" or something equally mystifying, seemingly in response to certain individuals, but it made more fun than sense. Maybe if I understood Old Norse...

At the end of the parade, there was a troop of about a dozen adolescent guys in the garden of an official building. They would take a few steps and do a back-flip. Or run up to the 8-foot stone wall, run up the wall, and do a back-flip down to the ground. Or run up-hill and do some more back-flips. Wow, their acrobatics were impressive to watch!

I caught part of a concert, with two sets: the end of a girl-band, and the start of a jazz big band. Setup for the second concert took a long time but they were fun to watch. Next to me was a family with young kids - by the way there are LOTS of young kids in Iceland - and I never would have guessed that little kids liked jazz so much. One was spinning around, half-dancing, half-running, for almost the whole time with an infectious ear-to-ear grin. His sister was sitting on the shoulders of her father (grandfather?), playing the drums on his patient pate.

I've visited two museums: "Reyjavik 871 +/- 2" which shows an excavated longhouse from 871AD plus or minus two years, and the Culture House. I came near closing time, so I had to skip some of their exhibits (like on Icelandic film) and go straight to the exhibit on medieval manuscripts of the sagas, eddas, and other significant texts, this was very impressive. In addition to the museums, I strolled through the Botanical Gardens on my way from my campground to a shopping district. At least I think it was the Bot Gdns, though it could have been an adjoining park. It was attractive though, shall we say, restrained.

Two nights ago I went to dinner with my friend John from Montreal, who is a travel consultant here for part of the year. He took me to a wonderful and inexpensive restaurant called Icelandic Fish & Chips (http://www.fishandchips.is/). The fish was impeccably fresh, the batter shatteringly crispy and light, the oven-roasted potato chunks deliciously redolent of olive oil, the dipping sauces beautifully seasoned ("skyronnaise", like mayonnaise, but made with skyr, see previous post), the house-made lemon-ginger soda very gingery and not too sweet, the mango salad a lovely flavour combination yet not too sweet, and the carrot cake a satisfying conclusion. When in Rekjavik, don't miss this place.

Last night, I went to another restaurant John had recommended, serving Thai food. I ordered fish in red curry sauce. It was tasty, though not at all what I expected. The fish was covered in a rather thick batter and deep-fried. The fish itself was very fresh but a bit chewy in texture (wolf-fish? older haddock?). It was served on a bed of chili-oil, coated with a big layer of red-curry paste, garnished with deep-fried veggies and herbs, and served with a suitably generous portion of rice. I left feeling satisifed but with perhaps a tinge of heart-burn.

Today's adventures revolved around doing some shopping: another pair of liner socks, a refill cannister of gas for my camping stove, sunscreen, and a new cell-phone power cord. The latter two were surprises in a way. I forgot my sunscreen at home, and got a bit burnt yesterday watching the parade. Today I found out that sunscreen, unlike dairy products, is on the list of things that are very expensive in Iceland. Hmmph. The need for a cell-phone cord rather irritates me. The phone is from the UK with a gigantic UK plug at the end fo the cord. Before I left Montreal, I bought a UK-to-EUR power adapter. When I tried to plug it in yesterday here in Iceland, I discovered that a square peg (power adapter) does not fit into a round hole (power outlet). Grrrrrrrrrrr. Hence the need for a new power adapter. I'm not sure I'll use the phone much since I can't get things right to do a top-up (my other piece of international traveller blues) but it's my alarm clock and my emergency contact device so I don't want to take the risk.

Tomorrow morning I leave Reykjavik. I've really enjoyed my three days here. It would be easy to stay a few more days but I think it's time to start discovering more of the country. I've been agonising over whether to go south and east, or north and west. Tonight I'll decide. Perhaps in a few days I'll find internet access again and be able to write more about the next stage of Vikjavik's adventures.

Reykjavik musings

Here are a few random thoughts about my trip to Iceland so far. (No time for un-randomness, my internet time is about to expire!)

Based on my prior experiences, Iceland feels like an amazing combination of Newfoundland (geography) plus Finland (culture) plus an outdoorsy culture plus outer space (more geography).

Skyr is a delicious yogourt-like treat. It's made from skim milk, yet manages to be delicious. It's inexpensive. Prices here are all over the map, even when you compare two different brands of imported chocolate bars I saw in a food store today, one cheap one expensive.

My flight left Halifax at sunset, but it got lighter not darker as we flew north (well, northeast) to Iceland. It was quite something waking up at 4am prior to landing, and it being as bright as 2pm Montreal time. Alas, once on the ground it was a bit cloudier.

Must sign out now, time is about to run out.

City mouse, country mouse

This past weekend my choir took part in a 4-choir concert. We had one concert in Montreal on Saturday and another on Sunday in an older off-island town about 70km away. So on Sunday afternoon, I drove up with three others. We arrived nice and early, so some of us went off to the dépanneur (convenience store) across from the cathedral to get some snacks. It was located on a street corner in rather a large building for a convenience store; evidently the building had once served some other purpose, perhaps a bank. By instinct we headed to the door on the corner of two sidewalks. It was locked shut with merchandise piled up inside the door, yet the business was obviously open judging by the activity inside.

We were baffled for a few moments, but then I figured it out. We weren't in a big city any more. Why would the entry be close to the sidewalk when there was a parking lot on the other side of the building? And there indeed was the entry, with automatic (motorized) doors to boot.

Why walk if you can drive, and why open doors with your own human strength: is this how the other half lives? It's really not so urban-exclusive, though, as many of my urban colleagues at work take the elevator rather than take the opportunity for 1 to 2 flights of exercise on the stairs.

Bread: I needed no-knead, you need no-knead too.

I was recently sent, by my friend Margaret, the no-knead bread recipe. She posted it as a comment at the bottom of my Cake in five minutes posting.

Last week when I my foot was in a cast, I had a bread shortage. I'd run out of bread at home. I did go out to do some food shopping, but my preferred bakery is down some stairs I did not then want to navigate, and I wasn't desperate enough to buy supermarket bread. Cooking while in my cast was difficult because you typically do things standing, and require both feet to stabilise and support. That would be particularly true if you were to knead bread. So all in all, it seemed like the perfect occasion to try bread that only required stirring and patience. "I need no-knead" was the slogan du jour.

Of course I have great difficulty following a recipe exactly. I made one deliberate modification (one-third whole-wheat flour, instead of all white) and one accidental (1 7/8 c water instead of 1 5/8 c water). My dough was too runny, which made it very hard almost impossible to handle in the final rising and shaping stage. I was scraping little pieces of dough off the tea-towel and off my hands into the pan.

However - if you like crust, this bread is for you. The crust on my bread was 2-3mm thick. The bread had a very nice flavour, in part from the finely milled cornmeal I used to help with the dough-handling; the bread reminded me a little of the Portuguese corn bread you can buy here. The crust made it hard to slice... but it was delicious.

I made it a second time, this time a half-batch to avoid having stale bread with impenetrable crust. (Slicing said bread is another accident waiting to happen.) I guess this time I under-measured my water because the dough was very stiff, hard to stir together. I also used a bit of wheat germ in the dough. It all sorted itself out in rising. Again I ended up with a well-flavoured bread with outstanding crust.

I made the first batch in a Corelle "French white" casserole, which was too large so I had a low wide loaf. The second time I used a smaller (souffle-sized?) ceramic casserole, which was again too large so I had another low wide (but this time round) loaf. I suppose a low squat loaf has proportionally more crust?

Let them eat bread.

Porridge bread

One of the best things about visiting the Normaway Inn in Margaree Valley, Nova Scotia, is the porridge bread they make. This is not to detract from any of the inn’s other charms, but is a testimony to their bread.

It has been years since I have had it, and here is my attempt at recreating it. I used all white-flour, but you could probably use part whole-wheat or wheat-germ. This is a small batch, because I know the dough-hooks on my mixer can handle a batch of dough based on 2 cups of liquid, and I wasn’t in the mood to knead by hand.

• 2 c water
• 1 c oats or oatmeal
• 1/4 c butter
• 2 tsp yeast
• enough molasses
• salt (1 tsp?)
• flour: about 5 c

Boil water. Pour over oats. Add butter, and the amount of molasses you think appropriate (see also below).

Let stand until cooled slightly, where you can comfortably stick your finger into the mix. The oats will have softened, and the mix will now be the right temperature for the yeast.

Add the yeast and let proof.

Mix in the flour gradually until you get the right texture, kind of like an earlobe. I did this all with the dough-hooks on my mixer, but if mixing by hand, start with a spoon and then knead in the rest. Add molassses if needed; I like this to have some taste of molasses without being too sweet; I added molasses until the dough was kind of the colour of light brown sugar or a very milky café au lait. My dough was a bit stickier than an all-wheat-flour dough, presumably because of the oats, and so a little hard to shape into loaves later on... but we are not there yet.

Grease the bowl and dough-top if you feel like it, cover the bowl, and set in a warm place to rise until doubled.

Punch down dough. Shape into loaves as best you can. I grabbed some dough and rolled it between greased hands into a ball-blob, and placed two ball-blobs into a greased loaf pan. Let rise until doubled.

I baked until done 375F, though often bread is baked at a higher temperature.

What I did on my summer vacation

Better late than never? Here is the travelogue from my May/June trip with my mother and brother to Finland, Estonia, and Latvia. As a title for this trip, I've compressed Finland and Baltics into "Fintics." Because I have backposted them to May and June, they are at the bottom (rather than top) of my blog, so here are the shortcuts:

• Fintics #1 - Getting there, and time in Helsinki, Finland
• Fintics #2 - Turku, Finland
• Fintics #3 - Oulu, Finland
• Fintics #4 - From Finland, to Talllinn and Haapsalu, Estonia
• Fintics #5: Tartu, Estonia, and some general observations about post-Soviet life
• Fintics #6: From Tartu to Valga (Estonia) to Valka (Latvia) to Riga (Latvia)
• Fintics #7: Riga
• Fintics #8: Sigulda, Gauja National Park, and farewell to Latvia
• Fintics #9: Finland once more, then back home

Sweet, salty, sour, bitter, hot

This salad has wonderful contrasting flavours. Farid (from one of the Maghreb countries) made this at a dinner party years ago and I've been happy to make it from time to time ever since.

I'm never good at proportions; it's a matter of what looks and tastes good to you.

Ingredients

Moroccan olives: the sun-cured, black, wrinkly, shiny ones
Clementines or oranges.
Fresh thai peppers, or hot sauce*
Lettuce of your choice: Boston lettuce, leaf lettuce, mixed baby bourgeois lettuce, etc.
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar

Pit the olives: Squish them under the blade of a wide flat knife, then squish out the pit. This kind is easier to pit than, say, Kalamata olives, because the pit doesn't cling to the flesh that much.

Chop the olives into smallish bits. Cover them with boiling water and let stand for a few minutes to remove some of the salt and to partially rehydrate the olives. Don't leave them too long, unless you like mushy olives. Drain the olives.

Peel the citrus. If using oranges, remove the flesh from the membranes. If using clementines, that's too difficult, so just slice them thinly.

If using fresh peppers, chop them very fine, mix with the citrus, and let them macerate for a while. If using hot sauce, you can skip this step.

Dress the lettuce with olive oil. Then add the hot sauce (if using) and a little bit of balsamic vinegar. (You don't need a lot of vinegar, because of the citrus fruit's acidity.) Toss to evenly distribute.

Garnish with the citrus and olives, and serve. Enjoy!


* The original recipe used harissa, but I didn't like the flavour of the brand I used. It's not very Mediterranean but my favourite hot sauce (first tried years ago, and not displaced by any other) is Arizona Gunslinger's Habanero Pepper Sauce.

Why?

Strategically self-induced nausea in response to smoking, gloom at the most wonderful time of the year, and adding insult to injury: why?

Yesterday, on Christmas Day in the morning, I took the metro and bus to get to and from the church where I was singing. Christmas is "supposed" to be a happy day, and while I know not everyone has an easy time at Christmas, it was surprise to see so many long faces on the bus and metro. Whence happiness?

Today, I went to the pharmacy to fill a prescription. While I was waiting, the pharmacist was helping the client ahead of me. She handed him his pills, and asked if he knew how they worked, and then she explained: these pills would help him quit smoking because smoking would henceforth make him dizzy and nauseated. The full course of this treatment runs for 12 weeks - yup, 12 weeks of nasty revulsion. I gained a new sympathy for smokers if quitting is so hard that sometimes self-inflicted nausea is the best way to go.

In other news, a friend of mine spent the summer cycling from BC (where he currently/most recently lived) to Newfoundland (where he spent part of his childhood). He extended his stay, spending a few weeks in Newfoundland visiting family, planning what to do next, and fixing up an old VW camper van. In late November he started to drive back to BC in his new (old) van. Alas, he wiped out in a snowstorm in the US midwest, totalled the van, and was stuck for almost a week waiting for news from his insurance company. When they finally made up their mind (yes, the van was indeed totalled), he flew home to Vancouver, just in time to catch the start of some of the nasty weather that's been the recent delight of North American travellers. Oh yes, then he got home to Vancouver and a few days later, his father in Newfoundland died.

Why, why, why? There's the Hungarian joke from Soviet times that everything that is not prohibited is compulsory. Or as the physicists (or is it the statisticians) say, if it isn't impossible, then it's going to happen somewhere at some point in the universe. So "why" isn't always a fruitful question to ask. I guess that leaves the next best alternative as "what will we do in consequence", or maybe more concisely, "how, not why".

Voting: from blues to bliss

Today, I voted in Quebec's provincial election today. A day of depressing thoughts was transformed, after voting, into a smug sense of satisfaction and gratitude.

Elections usually make me depressed. It's not the voting part; it's that elections remind us about the politicans whom I find so distasteful that I generally prefer to ignore them. Here in the province of Quebec, our government is 2 years into its mandate. Our premier decided he didn't like leading a minority government and that now was a good time to call an election to try for a majority government. How wonderful! We're about to head into difficult economic times, and our leadership apparently has no better idea on how to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars than an utterly unnecessary election. Yet out of a sense of duty, off I went to vote.

Often something happens on election day, and this time was no exception. Sometimes it happens before marking my ballot, sometimes after, but once again my election epiphany came. Voting is such a privilege. I can't swing a cat without hitting someone for whom voting is or was a matter of life and death. Why did my grandparents flee their country in the middle of the night? What about my fellow volunteer mentioned in my previous post?

Maybe I don't like my politicians, but it sure is a nice feeling that every few years I have a chance to let them know what I think about them. And when I cast my vote, no matter how I vote, I won't get blacklisted or imprisoned. My politicians - those whom I often so dislike - want me to vote, even if it's not for them.

(Thoughts on frigid winter-cycling today are on my other blog.)

Would I have had the strength to do that?

I volunteer with the Red Cross, and today attended an annual colloquium on our activities. One volunteer told about volunteering in conflict zones in Afghanistan and throughout Africa. This prompted another volunteer to tell some stories from his home country, and I am still reeling.

He explained that he had heard about several prisoners that had been tossed in prison, beaten, and kept without medical aid. The prison guards would not let anyone in to help them. He set up a protest in front of the prison with placards that said "Down with the president!" and was promptly thrown inside. His father was a high-ranking officer in the local police service, so he was confident that he would get out. Indeed, he was released soon thereafter, but not until he had spoken with a few prisoners and catalogued on what pretext they were there and what their injuries were. Once he was released, he worked with Amnesty International in order to get Red Cross staff into the prison to treat them.

He did something like that a second time, and then his father had a serious talk with him. With his youthful optimism and confidence, he hadn't realised that his actions might put his father in prison too.

The world has seen so many wars, conflicts, genocides, and massacres, and the response is "Never again." We know that we cannot be complicit. But what would I have done in his shoes?

Cake in five minutes

A family member recently forwarded me a recipe which has utterly transformed me. I went from pre-schooler to teenager in the 1908s 1980s, the era of the microwave, and it was then that I developed a clear interest in baking. However it never occurred to me until now that, due to the magic of the microwave oven, you could start preparing your ingredients and have cake ready to serve only 5 minutes from now.

The texture is not identical to a layer cake baked in the oven, so you shouldn't expect that. Think a steamed pudding, or cottage puddding. Eat while it's still warm.

I offer you the original recipe plus 3 variations on the theme.

5-minute cake recipe #1 - cocoa

The concept inspired me, though clearly it needed improvement: oil instead of butter, cocoa powder instead of real chocolate... even the title of "5 MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE" struck me as jarring. The lack of baking powder struck me as odd, though maybe it was made for self-raising flour. This came from a family member in Alberta, from her cousin in Australia.

I never tried this as written. I offer it for reference purposes only.

4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional)
A small splash of vanilla extract
1 large coffee mug

Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly.
Pour in the milk and oil and mix well.
Add the chocolate chips (if using) and vanilla extract, and mix again.
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts.
The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed!
Allow to cool a little, and tip out onto a plate if desired.
EAT! (this can serve 2 if you want to feel slightly more virtuous).

5-minute cake recipe #2 - chocolate

INGREDIENTS:
1 square (1 oz) unsweetened chocolate
1 tbsp butter*
1 egg
4 tablespoons flour
1/4 tsp baking powder
4 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons chocolate chips**
A TINY splash of vanilla extract and/or a larger splash of rum

Equipment:
1 large coffee mug
2 other mugs or bowls for mixing***
plus measuring cups, forks or whisks for mixing.

Method:

Melt butter and chocolate in mug over LOW heat. Cool.
In bowl #2 stir together the dry ingredients (flour, sugar, baking powder).
In bowl #3, beat the egg and then beat in the milk and rum/vanilla.
Add dry ingredients, wet ingredients, and mix until combined.
Sprinkle chocolate chips** over. Stir only very lightly (they will sink).
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts.****
The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed!

NOTES:
* Butter: accept no substitutes
** Chocolate chips: these are required (not optional).
*** The original recipe only required 1 mug but this requires at least 3
mugs/bowls. That's because it is a Victor adaptation of a recipe. If you are clever about how you mix, you can use less.
*****My microwave is strong and 3 minutes is a shade overdone.

Five-minute cake #3 - vanilla and chocolate

It's white with brown spots... Dalmatian cake? Eat while it's still warm and
the chocolate chips are still molten. Yum.

INGREDIENTS:
2 tbsp butter
1/4 c (4 tablespoons) flour
1/4 tsp baking powder
4 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons milk
1 egg
big splash rum
tiny splash vanilla
ample chocolate chips

Equipment:
1 large coffee mug
2 other mugs or bowls for mixing
plus measuring cups, forks or whisks for mixing.

METHOD:
Melt butter in mug. Cool.
In bowl #2 stir together the dry ingredients (flour, sugar, baking powder).
In bowl #3, beat the egg, milk, rum, and vanilla.
Add dry ingredients and wet ingredients to mug, and mix until combined.
Sprinkle the chocolate chips over. (They will mostly sink as the cake
cooks.)
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes (give or take) at 1000 watts.

Five-minute cake #4 - spice cake with (optional?) cranberries

I didn't write this down when I made it but I think these ingredients and proportions are right.

INGREDIENTS:
2 tbsp butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 c (4 tablespoons) flour
1/4 tsp baking powder
pinch EACH of ground cinnamon, ground cloves, ground allspice
2 tablespoons white sugar
3 tablespoons milk
some cranberries if desired

Equipment:
1 large coffee mug
1 other mug or bowl for mixing
plus measuring cups, forks or whisks for mixing.

METHOD:
Melt butter in mug.
Stir in the brown sugar.
Stir in the egg.
In another bowl, stir together the remaining dry ingredients (flour, white sugar, baking powder, spices).
Add dry ingredients and milk to mug, and mix until combined.
Stir in the cranberries. (Unlike chocolate chips, these do NOT mostly sink as the cake cooks.)
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes (give or take) at 1000 watts.

Christmas baking: an expression of thankfulness

Today my friend G. and I baked fruitcake together, as we do most years. Eating good fruitcake makes me feel very lucky. Making it with a dear friend is even better.

We set our dried fruit (raisins assorted, currants, dates, figs, dried cherries) to soak in rum in advance, then make our dark fruitcake with generous amounts of butter, brown sugar, eggs, and spices. Now it shall age, but first comes a bath of more spirits.

I think it is a travesty that fruitcake has become so despised by so many. I imagine a time when food was scarce, when spices brought from afar were a special luxury, when eggs weren't abundant year-round, and when sugar was a special treat, and when distillation was a special sort of alchemy - and suddenly fruitcake comes to encapsulate something special, luxurious, and wonderful.