For My Cousins

My musings on trying to eat more locally brought a good reminder from my cousin what this would mean in Newfoundland, where we grew up and she still lives. Back in the fall, I had this conversation with a couple of Newfoundlanders at work, one of whom had brought in a small pot of boiled dinner.


He and I tucked into it enthusiastically while the mainlanders and, I might add, the other Newfoundlander looked on with facial expressions ranging from bemusement to disgust.

(This is not the boiled dinner we had at work. We don't have Guinness at work. This is one I cooked for Kelly's Dad a few years ago. We've got salt beef, cabbage, potatoes, turnip, carrots, pease pudding and my alltime favorite vegetable: turnip greens.)

A Newfoundland 100 mile diet would be root vegetables, fish (fresh and salted), pork (fresh and salted), a bit of beef (again: fresh and salted!), chickens, and for vitamin c, all the blueberries, partridgeberries, and bakeapples you could eat. I love all of it, except the bakeapples. Would I want to eat all of it all the time? Not so much.

But when we were young, we all participated in the great extended Osmond family tradition of the Boil Up in the Woods. This was usually instigated by Florence, who walked softly and carried a big pot:


She was aided and abetted in these endeavours by various children and grandchildren. Here, Daisy and Tone join her in a tentside tableau. I wonder who the photographer was, and what they said to Aunt Daisy to make her toss her head back and laugh like that? I love this picture.
Nanny was probably making a steamed pudding too, raisin if it was early in the summer, blueberry or partridgeberry (she would pronounce it pa'tridgeberry) if it was later in the season. I make my own partridgeberry pudding now but what I would give for a slice of her raisin pudding with homemade butterscotch sauce.

Here she is in the middle of a cold (except for the teakettle!) picnic with Dad's family: L-R Aunt Patt, Uncle Nat, Aunt Sadie, and cousin Barbara, I think at Crabbes River. I'm not sure who the couple is, or the guy in the natty cap and jacket with his back to the camera. They all look like they're freezing, especially Uncle Nat. Great day for a picnic!


But of course, there really were some great days for picnicking. (Generally two days in late July-early August!) Here we are in a provincial park en route to Bonavista Bay. Look at that enormous wicker picnic basket on the bench next to Nanny. It probably contained bread and butter sandwiches, pie, and her pan-cooked chicken (known as Chicken Floretta in our house.) Granddad seems to be pouring a kettle of tea. Clearly, we were unable to function anywhere as a family without tea.


Nanny passed the outdoor cooking gene onto her daughter. Here's Mom, around 1976 or 1977, taking a break from dinner preparation. If this was our first night out, she was making sausages and beans. If it was a Sunday afternoon, she was making roast beef dinner on the hibachi. I kid you not. With a boiled dinner on the side!