News from Nowhere

Yesterday was overcast and snowy. I cheered myself up with photographs from our trip to Europe last spring. Time to return to writing up our adventures in Trier, but meanwhile, one random silly picture out of sequence. We stopped for lunch somewhere whose name I don't recall: the plan, I think, was to find a pleasant restaurant by the Mosel, but there was nowhere to park close to the river, and we ended up at (what turned out to be a very agreeable pub in) the converted railway station. Here, too, the only parking space was strictly time-limited, but I did snatch this one photo:



You can see that it's a dentist's premises, though you may have to click through to a larger image, by the handles on the glass doors: on the left, a caduceus, and on the right a tooth. What I can't explain is the black-clad figure climbing up over the porch: not, surely, all because the lady loves Milk Tray? That doesn't seem appropriate.

Today the sun is shining, which makes me think of future holidays. Here's an attractive place to stay, a lighthouse in Newfoundland (and here's the tour company that will organise the trip). Not this year, for which I have other plans, closer to home, but one day...

weegoddess and I were talking, only the other day, about the joys of cookery books found in charity shops, and that set me thinking about the very particular pleasures of the books put together in aid of a local fundraising initiative, to which everyone - regardless of cooking ability - must contribute a recipe 'because it's a good cause'.

The Lighthouse Cookbook is neither of those things. I don't remember where I found it, but the price pencilled inside is £5, which isn't exorbitant but is more than I would expect to pay in a charity shop, especially for a spiral bound booklet a bit battered at the corners. Despite the signs - the spiral binding, the recipes gathered from a list of contributors, even the graceful line drawings - Anita Stewart is a professional (her website claims that "She defined the term 'Canadian culinary tourism' while it was still an oxymoron") and the more I flick through this book, with its homey artlessness, its apparent simplicity, the more I admire the professional skill with which she threads a tribute to the lighthouse keepers of the Pacific Northwest through a collection of recipes which add up to a genuine cookbook.

The lighthouses of British Columbia are, it seems, exceptional in being isolated enough that the keepers are resident, rather than driving out to work a shift and then driving home. When the book was published in 1988, there was a move towards automation which had stalled but not stopped; more recently, the "de-staffing program" seems to have been halted, but the book chronicles a way of life which is precarious in more senses than one.

The recipes reflect that way of life, and the author accompanies each with a brief text which underliunes that. A recipe for Mussels in Mushrooms is credited to Vivian and Bob Bodnar, with the comment that "Vivian uses a gloved left hand and a screwdriver to pry [the mussels] off the wave-washed rocks." The couple who offer a recipe for Jalapeño Pepper Jelly grow their own cayenne and jalapeño peppers in their greenhouse. Groceries are delivered once a month, in bulk, so there are numerous bread recipes - in fact, baking in general dominates the book: not counting the introduction, there are ten chapters, of which five are for bread, cakes and pastries, and a sixth for dessert and candy. (Favourite chapter title: "Muffins for breakfast, Biscuits for dinner and Coffeecakes for the Helicopter Pilots" - I know it's trying to be cute, and I don't care.)

And if I ever need to pickle kelp, I now have a recipe (two, in fact): "Kelp is nice because it retains a crunch. The coastal Indians have always used kelp both for eating and as storage containers."