Homemade cucumber relish

For the last few years actually, as I’ve cut my canning chops, I’ve considered making my own relish, but never got around to it. It’s not like we go through it very fast, although we eat our fair share of burgers and sausages all summer long, especially at the cottage. I didn’t want to make a huge batch because knowing us, these three jars themselves might carry us over the next year or two, easily. So I made a 3/4 portion recipe of the cucumber relish recipe in the Bernardin Guide to Home Preserving.

This recipe is definitely more vinegary than sugary, and that is just perfect in my opinion. I’m not going to reproduce the recipe here because I really made almost no real changes to it except I used celery salt instead of celery seed (it’s what I had in the house, and I was careful to taste to ensure I wasn’t overdoing the salt) and I used red and orange sweet peppers instead of red and green; again, it’s what I had. Oh and I used the large grater attachment for my food processor to make chopping the cucumbers go a lot faster.

Sliced Garlic Dills

Since I’d bought two large baskets of cucumbers from the farmers’ market I also got busy making some sliced garlic dills, because I have just one small jar of them left from last year and were they ever a hit! This year I made 500 ml jars instead of 250 ml because I’d been told in no uncertain terms that the 250 ml jars were just WAY TOO SMALL (thanks Matt!).

Again, this recipe is from the Bernardin book, and really no tweaks here either except I added about 3/4 of a finely sliced red pepper, because it was sitting there all lonely in the fridge and it added a nice splash of colour to the jars. Also, I don’t bother tying my pickling spices in a bouquet garni; I like they way the spices look floating in the jars. I had just shy of the 4lbs of cucumbers the recipe calls for and I ended up with 7 500 ml jars of pickles. Oh and a mandoline makes slicing these babies easy as pie. Last year I sliced by hand and they were much chunkier pickles. My food processor only has an attachment that makes for paper-thin slices, far too thin for pickles, so I’m glad I had a mandoline kicking around just for this purpose (actually, it was originally Chris’s; I never owned one before I met him).

Next up… I have a lot of beets in my garden this year and I think Chris is already sick of them (he’s not nearly as big of a fan of them as I am). I think pickling them is really the only way I can use them up easily, although I might consider if there is a way I can root cellar them (not having a real root cellar might be a problem). Good thing a lot of my girlfriends love pickled beets!

]]> http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?feed=rss2&p=860 1 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=856 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=856#comments Fri, 06 Aug 2010 22:33:16 +0000 admin http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=856 Cute? Who me? Aw shucks.

The innocence is a sham. Don't believe those eyes for a second.

We pined for her while we were away. She missed us for about a day and then got over it, ’cause Grama had the treats and filled her bowl! I’m sure she’s well over 80 lbs now. [...]]]>

Cute? Who me? Aw shucks.

The innocence is a sham. Don't believe those eyes for a second.

We pined for her while we were away. She missed us for about a day and then got over it, ’cause Grama had the treats and filled her bowl! I’m sure she’s well over 80 lbs now. AT 8 MONTHS OLD. I really can’t fathom the idea of her continuing to grow, but it’s a real possibility! And her personality is just so incredibly super awesome. I can’t express how much I missed the loving eyes and happy smile of a devoted canine in the year between Zeus and Luna. And I know I wasn’t sure in the beginning because she was a holy biting terror that tested our patience and resolve to the max. But over the last four months she has transformed into an incredibly friendly dog who loves every single person she meets, and gets along with every single dog she encounters. She is perhaps one of the most well-adjusted pooches out there, and I’m not just being a proud mama.

Zeus, rest his fuzzy soul, was amazing in his own very special way, but I could never just let him go hang out at a dog park (he was a rather insecure fella and always seemed to have to assert himself around others), and I always had to keep a close eye on him in his early years with strangers. Most people assume every Saint Bernard is just like what they see in the movies — super friendly all the time — when he was actually quite protective and somewhat judgmental of strangers on the street. Luna on the other hand, she just loves everyone. This can be problematic at times (80 lbs of wiggly happy puppy dragging you to visit the neighbours, even when they aren’t standing at their doors, takes some patience), but it really makes me happy that she oozes goodwill towards all. Because she is a big black dog with a stumpy tail, and that can be intimidating-looking. But when that butt is wiggling out of control you can’t help but laugh at the cuteness.

]]> http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?feed=rss2&p=856 0 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=846 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=846#comments Thu, 05 Aug 2010 01:11:08 +0000 admin http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=846 I’ve been a very tardy blogger lately. But I have a good reason! Chris and I just got back from an epic journey with our friend Mike via canoe through Wabakimi Provincial Park, located about 4 hours north of Thunder Bay, Ontario near the town of Armstrong (and north of the 50th parallel).

The outfitter's van

Now [...]]]> I’ve been a very tardy blogger lately. But I have a good reason! Chris and I just got back from an epic journey with our friend Mike via canoe through Wabakimi Provincial Park, located about 4 hours north of Thunder Bay, Ontario near the town of Armstrong (and north of the 50th parallel).

The outfitter's van

Now I know what you’re thinking. Waba-who-in-the-what-now? Most people have never heard of the park. And frankly, I prefer it that way. It’s nearly pristine northern wilderness might stay that way a little longer the fewer who know about it. But hey, even if you do know about it, it takes some serious experience and commitment to go there in the first place, so that makes a big difference in how heavily the park is used, unlike the packed and heavily traveled parks of Algonquin or your Killarny. Let’s just say Wab is not for sissies.

Chris solo-ing one of our two canoes on Day 1.

We’ve been planning this trip for months, although the details of our route were only decided about a week in advance. You pretty much have to use an outfitter to enter Wabakimi; the park is not as accessible, both physically and informationally, as most other Ontario parks. The 892,000 hectare park is bigger than Prince Edward Island and rivals Yellowstone National Park in the US, has been around for decades, and yet it still lacks a management plan, largely due to the fact that there are many remote First Nations communities that call it home, mostly Cree and Ojibwa, making negotiations quite challenging. Route planning, trip notes and detailed maps are obtained through your outfitter. Chris and Mike have been to the park a couple times before, and so again this year we used Wild Waters, owned by Bruce and Margaret Hyer (Bruce just also happens to be the MP for Thunder Bay).

Rescued dragonfly

While ideally, in planning a trip to a park like this you would have a least 4 people, balancing out two canoes and helping to carry packs, we couldn’t rustle up a fourth friend to join us. This meant that the guys were going to have to trade off paddling solo in one of the canoes. Our outfitter suggested trying a kayak paddle, to make maintaining a straight track easier, and while it wasn’t perfect, the guys seemed to manage it well, and were able to keep up despite having only ‘one engine’ in the boat.

Abandoned and striped ski-doo

I took care of the food for the trip, having packed for several hiking and canoe adventures in the past. Apparently I did well because normally the guys go a bit nuts and come out of the park with half the food they carted in, but we had just enough for this trip, with my planning. Wab is also popular as a fly-in fishing destination, although late July is a bit off season, I had hoped to catch at least a couple meals over the course of the 8 days.

Our first day was a kick-in-the-butt paddle, estimated over 25 kms, through Crown Land. It was the hardest day I think we put in, but probably more because all of us were pretty out of paddling shape. We had to fight our fair share of wind too, crossing some pretty big lakes with little respite. My left wrist and right elbow were screaming in pain by the end from all the repetitive motion, and I was pretty concerned that I’d overdone it and was going to have problems for the rest of the trip (and boy did we have a loooong way to go still). But I started popping Tylenol and after a nap in my hammock I was feeling a lot better.

Mike and Chris at our first site, Crown Land, on Caribou River

Sunset on Caribou River

This first site was where off in the distance I spotted a large object making its way across the river, too big to be a loon and moving very purposely from shore to shore. It was close to sunset so I lost sight of it once it got into the shadows of the shoreline, but it had to be a moose, or a caribou (the park is a sanctuary for the threatened Woodland Caribou). The caribou like to calve on islands, away from predators, and begin to move back into the deep woods around August. Unfortunately this, and another big dark shape moving along a shore off in the distance the next day, was all I got to see as far as big game wildlife. There were lots of beaver, loon, eagle and duck sightings, and even a couple snakes, though.

Bald eagle

We covered another 15 or so kms the next day, but this included portaging around several large sets of rapids. These were a bit challenging at times, one of them nearly pulling Chris and I into the fast water while we tried to figure out exactly where the portage was located. Did I mention portages and campsites are not marked?

Day 3, trying to stay dry on Caribou Bay

Day 3 started out quite wet, and remained that way. We decided to stay put, despite Mike’s anxiety that we needed to cover a lot of ground each day to ensure we made it to our train stop by the date we needed to be there. The winds were pretty strong and not in our favour, and let’s be honest, paddling all day in the rain is no one’s idea of a good time. I tried to take advantage of the time to do some fishing for the first time on the trip, but no dice. I quickly discovered I hadn’t packed a very good tackle box, and I only had a few cheap, crappy and too large hooks, most of which broke as I tried to tighten up the loops to ensure they wouldn’t fall off. And they also fell off. After one day of fishing I was down to a single hook and a spoon with a triple hook. That’s it.

Camp visitor

While I was off napping in my super awesome Canadian-made Hennessy Hammock (a fully enclosed sleeping hammock, different from my hanging-out hammock) the boys were playing cards only to discover they’d been joined by a slithery friend. This snake was at least a metre long according to the guys, and I can only assume it’s a garter snake of some ilk — the milky blue eyes were consistent on not one but two of these fellas (different sizes) we came across on our little point. I think perhaps they had recently molted? Anyway, he was harmless, just wanting to get the heck out of dodge once he realized he was inside an enclosure.

Chris hanging out in a brief respite from the drizzle

Post rainy day on Caribou Bay

My Hennessy. You'll never regret investing in one of these if you love the outdoors.

Moonrise on Caribou Bay

Moonrise on Caribou Bay

Sunrise on Caribou Bay

Day 4 started out gorgeous — the water was as smooth as glass which was good because we were making our way through Smoothrock Lake, a very large lake with lots of fingers stretching into a very large section of the park. The wind was mostly in our favour and we had lots of chances to stop and take breaks. The only downside is that the main section of the lake is a popular fly-in fishing area, and there are several campsites where we came across large propane tanks and cook tops, obviously used often for shore lunches. And these guys are not tidy when they do their business. Fish bits and refuse all over the place. You wouldn’t catch me camping there (ahem, bear bait!) but the blueberry pickin’ was fantastic!

Abundant, wild blueberries

Where to next boss?

We took a bit of a detour to check out Wabakimi Falls, which separates Lower Wabakimi Lake from Smoothrock. The falls were not as impressive as we’d hoped, and once again no bites in the fishing department. While we were at the falls we started getting some angry clouds coming through and we got rained on for a bit as we got back on route towards Spaghetti Island, approximately 32 kms from where we started that morning.

On the last leg of this paddle we came across a pair of park rangers who we paused to chat with briefly. They were both Aboriginal guys and were on a 14-day trek, and had themselves put in 30 kms already with easily another 20 some to go (they were headed to Caribou Bay, where we started out from).

A few kms from Spaghetti Island and only an hour or so from sunset we got another big dumping of rain. This time it didn’t really stop aside from lightening up here and there, and all of us got a bit chilled as we finally made it to our site and hastily began setting up camp in the rain. We cooked up a pot of spaghetti, of course!

Drying out on Spaghetti Island

Bearded boy (well, sort of)

By this point we’d pretty much determined that Mother Nature runs a pretty tight ship in Wabakimi, and the weather worked like clockwork. Mornings would be beautiful, sunny, not a cloud in the sky, but by mid-afternoon the clouds would start rolling in and by dinner time the rain would start. It didn’t often last overly long, certainly not through the night, but it would come just when we wanted to set up shop at a new site. It got pretty tiresome. All in all we had one full day without rain, out of eight.

Clouds on Spring Lake

The last few days were much shorter distances. We’d covered so much distance on Day 4 that we could afford to take our time a bit more on the last few days, which was good because from this point on we had a number of portages. None were very long, the longest was about a km, but they really slow you down and we needed to do each one at least twice because of the four packs and two canoes.

By our last major day of paddling/portaging, I was totally beat. We got to Sunrise Falls and I just totally pooped out. Chris made me take some re-hydration salts which made a big difference. We still had to paddle a bit the next day but just a couple of hours towards the cabin where we would catch our train. We had lots of time to hang out at Sunrise Falls, in an area known as the Walleye Kitchen, and here is where I finally caught my one and only fish, a 12″ walleye. Chris filleted him up and we had him for dinner.

Sunrise Falls

Mike in his hammock at Sunrise Falls

Wally, the Walleye

We got a bit of a light show that night camped out at the falls. Not the Northern Lights kind that we were hoping for, either, but a pretty major lightening storm. It kept me up for a few hours but we didn’t get any real rain so that was alright.

For our final day we headed out of the park towards the cabin near the train tracks where we’d be flagging down a VIA passenger train. We started seeing people again in that last leg, including this elderly couple of ladies who were heading into the park with a collie sitting pretty under a parasol, to keep out of the sun! We later learned from the outfitters that these friends have been doing these trips almost every year for decades! Good on them.

Our last campsite was on a trail behind a pretty run-down cabin where a Native woman named Joanne occasionally stays. She wasn’t home when we landed at the property but we had expected that. Our instructions were to follow the trail behind the cabin up to the tracks where there was a sign for the 24.7 mile-marker (Joanne’s mile-marker). And indeed. There it is.

The 24.7 mile-marker

Here we are, ready to go

We had a number of freight trains go by while we were camped out. And we had another good dumping, probably the hardest one yet, of rain. We found out later that there had been big wind warnings, even tornado warnings, for that night, but we only had minor winds were we were, that I noticed anyway.

Our train was for 8:30 a.m. so we got up early, as we’d been told to be at the tracks for 7:30 and we needed to pack up our gear. Around 8 a.m. a maintenance worker came by on the tracks in one of those rail trucks, and told us the train had just left Sioux Lookout. Then another freight train, and another maintenance worker. Finally our train came at about 10:30.

Mike. He needs a bath.

Picked up at the train station

Anyway, after this we drove back to Thunder Bay to reunite Mike with his wife and son, and then we took the long way home via Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan, on the hunt for some New Glarus Belgian Red beer to bring back home, only available in Wisconsin. It was totally worth the trek, and I’m not saying that because I was deprived of beer for 8 days.

The full slide show of our photos from Wab is available on Flickr. We also took quite a bit of video and I hope to have that edited and posted soon.

]]> http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?feed=rss2&p=846 2 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=836 http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=836#comments Mon, 12 Jul 2010 03:55:02 +0000 admin http://www.digginthedirt.ca/?p=836 By that I mean I’m still trying to maintain that easy going differently-paced attitude. I don’t want to imply Newfoundlanders are a laid back bunch — in fact they’re quite the opposite. I don’t know if there’s a more hardy, hard-working bunch actually. Perhaps it’s all the hardships they have [...]]]> By that I mean I’m still trying to maintain that easy going differently-paced attitude. I don’t want to imply Newfoundlanders are a laid back bunch — in fact they’re quite the opposite. I don’t know if there’s a more hardy, hard-working bunch actually. Perhaps it’s all the hardships they have faced, but you won’t meet nicer people in the world.

St. John's, Newfoundland

We were in for a bit of a shock when we landed; we left 30+ degree heat and arrived to 10 degrees and overcast, with rain on the way. We did bring clothes expecting all kinds of weather, but I still don’t think we were quite prepared for it to drop to 5 degrees.

Leaside Manor B&B, St. John's

YellowBelly Brew Pub, St. John's

We stayed at the Leaside Manor, a gorgeous B&B within walking distance of downtown. Of course as soon as we got settled we had to go have a beer. Our meal was pretty terrific too — fish cakes and roasted halibut.

Our hosts told us that Tom Cochrane was playing in town on George Street as part of Canada Day celebrations, so we decided to check it out. We were quite disappointed to see that every single bar on the street had been obligated to sell only Labatt products as part of the sponsorship deal (the party was sponsored by Bud Lime). Which meant we were stuck with drinking crap beer all night. Even the places carrying YellowBelly weren’t allowed to sell it. Boo Labatt.

Tom Cochrane in St. John's

The Bud Lime girls were giving out all sorts of swag, including t-shirts, ball caps, mardi-gras beads, sunglasses, etc. They were dressed in baby-T’s and must have been freezing cold. All I wanted was a hoodie and a toque. Did I mention it dropped to 5 degrees?

Tom Cochrane in St. John's

The rain came down for about 10 minutes while we happened to be warming up in an Irish pub, but thankfully held off until about the last 20 minutes of the show when it started misting. We’re both really glad we held out through the big chill because it really was a great show.

St. John's

Lupins of Newfoundland

Cape Spear, Newfoundland

The next day we headed to Cape Spear, the easternmost point in all of North America. The spot was also a military base during WWII, and the remnants of the vanishing guns are still there (these guns could be raised and lowered, hiding them from view).

Inside the bunker

Rusting gun barrel, in Cape Spear

Our next night was at Fisher’s Loft Inn in Ship’s Cove, Trinity Bay (near Port Rexton). This fabulous estate is made up of several buildings with suites, as well as a dinning area, pub and lounge. There are beautiful potager gardens where they grow much of their own produce, although in early July many things were not yet planted and it was like May is here — lilacs in bloom, tulips still going; I’ll never complain about our short growing season again.

Fisher's Loft Inn guest house

Isn’t that greenhouse to die for? Oh and their soil is pretty rough — lots of rock mixed in. I guess it’s called The Rock for a reason.

Fisher's Loft Inn greenhouse and gardens

Fisher's Loft Inn grounds

Fisher's Loft Inn grounds

Cemetary near Fisher's Loft

Fisher's Loft Inn grounds

Fisher's Loft Inn grounds

Sunseet over Trinity Bay

Then we checked out Elliston, the ‘Root Cellar Capital of the World’. And that it may be, but just as fascinating is it’s population of Atlantic puffins.

Elliston

Elliston

Chris nearly getting stuck in a root cellar

We actually saw root cellars in a few of the small towns we visited, but in Elliston there are 135 of them, both publicly and privately owned, some of which are over two hundred years old. I’ve been reading up on root cellars lately so these were very cool to see.

Puffins -- parrots of the sea

You can walk out on a small peninsula of towards Bird Island, which used to be the name of the town. Across from the end of the peninsula are nesting Atlantic puffins, which build burrows to raise their chicks. These birds are fantastic. We saw them about 8 miles away flying over the ocean while we were whale watching, and our guide told us they had come down that far mostly by flying under water.

Trinity, Trinity Bay

Our next night was spent not far away in Trinity, on Trinity Bay (there are like three towns called Trinity in Newfoundland so you have to be specific) at the lovely Maidment House B&B. This town is built with a strict adherence to maintaining heritage techniques, so it’s pretty hard to tell what is original and what is new. From the folks we talked to, most folks don’t spend their winters here (the windows are old-school single-pane glass…brrr!). It’s a gorgeous spot though, in a very well protected, deep bay. Apparently the whales will often come right into the bay when the capelin are rolling (spawning on the beaches).

View from our B&B, the Maidment House

Old ship in Trinity

View of Trinity Bay, from Water Street

Trinity lighthouse

Water Street in Trinity

At the wharf in Trinity

We did go whale watching from Trinity with Kris of Sea of Whales. We opted not to take our camera, since while it is weather resistant Canon specifically warns against sea water, and the boat we were going out on was fairly low to the water. In the end we had almost mirror calm seas and we would have been perfectly fine, but instead we simply enjoyed the experience. Kris was fabulous — has been fishing with his uncle since he was a kid, and has studied and toured people to see whales for more than 17 years.

We saw two or three different minke whales (pronounced ‘mink-ee’), the fastest and second smallest of the baleen whales, spotting them quite frequently even before we got far from Trinity Bay. After about 45 minutes we found a pair of humpback whales, just lounging about. While we never really got to see them breach, we did often get fairly (respectfully) close — close enough to even catch a whiff of their breath — and they are enormous, beautiful creatures. They were a male and female, and after a while they moved in towards Spaniard’s Bay and Pigeon Cove, where the capelin (a small fish, like smelt) were waiting for the opportunity to spawn. They fed for a little while and it was really fun to watch them on the move. Pigeon Cove was a flurry of seagulls, bald eagles and other opportunists. We hung out with this pair for hours, while Kris served up some hot chocolate and cake, and as we were heading back a third humpback was making its way into the bay. I highly recommend Sea of Whales if you’re in the area and want to meet some of the ocean’s residents — Kris was a fountain of local and whale knowledge — he is clearly passionate about what he does.

Random Passage film set

Still high from our wildlife encounter we sadly set on the road back to St. John’s for our last night. Along the way we checked out the Random Passage site, where the mini-series was filmed and now the site can be toured to see what life would have been like in a Newfoundland fishing village in the early 1800′s. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t live back then.

Once we got back to the city, we located our B&B, the Duckworth. Now, I’ll warn you — from the street it doesn’t look like much. It’s a somewhat dilapidated area, one very large and obviously condemned building is just a block down the street. I was worried it was a dud when we pulled up. But inside it was very clean and tidy, and the room was very nice. The place could use a little more decor in the halls and walkways to charm it up, and obviously needs some work creating curb appeal, but the very charming owners have just been in the biz a couple years, so they’ve probably got lots of work they plan to do. They’ve definitely got a winner as far as being well-located (minus their derelict neighbours); the B&B is literally a block from George Street and other downtown attractions.

After we got settled we decided to go for a walk; I was suffering some wicked heartburn, and we had yet to see Signal Hill. Chris’s GPS said it was a 30 minute walk. IT LIED.

View of the St. John's lighthouse, from Signal Hill

That was probably if it were FLAT. Which it is not. Nothing in St. John’s can be described as flat, and I don’t think the walk up leveled out once. I was dying for a drink about halfway there, while cars and motorcycles (they love their bikes out in Newfoundland) whizzed past us up to the top.

Signal Hill, St. John's

Regardless of my nearly dying, it was well worth the effort, and let’s face it, I could use the exercise. And we timed it perfectly, ending our last full day with a gorgeous view as the sun set.

View of St. John's from Signal Hill

And I can’t wait to go back again.

A full slide show of our photos is available on Flickr.

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