2015 June 6: The Secret Garden and Other Places

One of my favourite things to do when I am traveling is to get up early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to rise, put on my running shoes and head out the front door. Not to run - I don't run! - but to explore. Most times I have no idea where I am going, and rare is it that I follow the exact same path twice in its entirety.

In 2002 I spent the summer in Beijing. Each morning I would leave my hotel at the crack of dawn, often not returning until late in the evening, bone tired from walking fourteen kilometers or more in the searing humidity - ground temperatures were often 50 degrees Celsius.

This was back before the era of digital cameras, and I still managed to take forty-two rolls of film! I saw sights that few Westerners have seen. For example, I visited one tiny little museum that I stumbled upon one morning that used to be the home of a very famous - to the Chinese - author. As I was leaving, the curator told me that while I was inside she had looked through fifty years worth of visitor logs, and I was the only Westerner to have ever visited the museum.

One of my favourite areas to walk in Negombo was among the myriad little streets and alley ways just to the north and east of Cemetery Road where our house was. I grew friendly with some of the people who live along those little streets, and never tired of seeing the abundance of flora and fauna in the middle of a big place like Negombo.

On June 6, 2015, I was walking along one of my favourite streets, listening to the singing of early morning birds and chattering people and blaring radios and squeaking bicycle wheels as children went off to school. I was taking photos of some of the flora on my way, when an older gentleman I had waved to and exchanged pleasantries with on several occasions asked to see my pictures. He was very impressed that I was so interested in flowers, and invited me into his yard to see his and his wife's beautiful garden - not visible from the street, all the while regaling me with tales of when each was planted and why they had included it.

True gardeners, we exchanged flower stories for quite some time as I took pictures of this hidden tropical backyard paradise. It was a very nostalgic experience for me, as many of the flowers that grow year round in Sri Lanka are ones that my mother plants every year as annuals back in Newfoundland..

 

I left his garden with handfuls of fresh roseapples, one of my favourite Sri Lankan fruits. With a texture like an Asian pear and a taste reminiscent of cardamom, I could not get enough. Steve and Elanor did not share my enthusiasm for this pink fruit with white flesh, but I ate them as often as I could. When our friends found out that I liked them, rare was the Sunday that one of the women from church did not bring me some from her garden.

As I munched along that beautiful morning, I stumbled upon a faint path that led down to the canal, where I was greeted by this gorgeous view, little seen except by the locals who use the makeshift footbridge to go to their homes in a poor neighbourhood hidden from sight from all who pass by....unless like me, they stray off the beaten path to discover the secret beauty all around.

2015 May 24: Flags In

It's Memorial Day weekend back in the United States, so to commemorate in a small way I created a Sri Lankan inspired traditional American meal. It's nothing compared to the backyard BBQs, camp outs, and picnics back home, but this year, for reasons that follow, I wanted to do a little something even though we are not in the States.

First, I made plain rice. We never know who is going to show up to visit, so I always make a lot of food on Sundays, and rice is quick and easy and filling.

Next, instead of potato salad or baked potatoes, I made the potatoes that we all love, the ones that I bake in the oven with onion and garlic and turmeric and which are always a hit with visitors and even with the readers of our blog who have tried them.

Instead of devilled eggs, I just made boiled eggs. There are two reasons for this. First, mayo goes bad quickly in the heat, so leaving the mayo out of a dish is a prudent thing to do. Second, I suck at peeling eggs. My friend Champika told me to add salt to the water and the eggs will peel perfectly. It works for her.... but my peeled boiled eggs continue to look like someone used power tools on them! I shouldn't be surprised - thirty years later my family still loves to tease me about the time I burned the boiled eggs. 

Finally, I made coleslaw. Steve doesn't like coleslaw - he will eat it if I make it, but he doesn't like it. But me? I love coleslaw. I think it runs in the family. I remember when my brother was younger - he may have been in Grade 3 - and he would ask mom to make coleslaw every night. He could not get enough.

I put a Sri Lankan twist on today's version, however. Here is the recipe:

Put the following into a large bowl:

• 1/2 a shredded purple cabbage
• 1/2 a shredded green cabbage
• 1 very thinly sliced purple onion
• 2 very large grated carrots

In another bowl, mix together:

• 2/3 cup mayonnaise
• 1/4 cup of your favourite white, cider, or white wine vinegar (I used coconut vinegar)
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon of salt
• 1 teaspoon of curry powder

Taste and add more salt or curry powder if needed - it will vary depending on the type of vinegar.
Pour over vegetables and mix well.

A friend from church and her twelve year old son came to visit after church, so we shared our simple meal with them. They both loved the coleslaw, and I have to admit that it was pretty good. And hey, if a twelve year old boy likes it, it can't be half bad!

But I digress....

The summer between Grade 11 and Grade 12 I was blessed to have won a speech contest. It was sponsored by the International Order of Oddfellows and Rebekahs, and the grand prize was a bus tour with two hundred seventy other youth from across North America of Ottawa and thirteen states, and four days at the United Nations. The program still exists, and I would highly recommend it. You can learn about the Pilgrimage for Youth by clicking here.

One of the places that we visited was Arlington National Cemetery. I remember walking though the acres and acres of clean white crosses and being overwhelmed by the sense of loss and sacrifice that was represented there. It was truly one of the most memorable experiences of the trip for me. Little did I know about my own connection to this place.

Courtesy http://www.redrosestudio.com/Arlin%20Natl%20Cem.html

On this Memorial Day weekend, I would like to pay tribute to a family member that I learned about recently from my father and his cousin Marjorie Hodgson, who lives in Vermont. In addition to being an avid genealogist, Marjorie continues to paint even though she is now, for all intents and purposes, blind. Normally I reserve such sentiments as those that follow for Canada's Remembrance Day, as can be read about here, but it is fitting that I tell this person's story today.

Sarah Maude Pittman was born December 21, 1896, in Hickman's Harbour, Trinity Bay, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada, to John and Mary "Polly" (nee Blundell) Pittman. She was the third of seven children, and was my father's mother's sister...my great aunt. Maude, as she was known, served in World War I, and somehow made it to the United States where she married Albert Blundon. She and Albert made their home in Somerville, Massachusetts. In August 1927, at age 30, she died while giving birth to their first child, and the babe died just two months later. She was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

When I saw photos of American soldiers planting flags on each of the four hundred thousand graves in Arlington National Cemetery this past week in their annual Flags In day, I could not help but think that I am so grateful that someone has been remembering this lost member of our family every year. With her emigration to another country, her dying so young, her husband now long gone, her only child passing so soon after her own death, there is no family nearby to lovingly tend her resting place, to remember her as they pass by, or even to simply clear her grave every now and then as those of us who regularly visit cemeteries do just because a grave needs some attention or because the surname is familiar. For eighty eight years her grave has been tended with care and her service during WWI commemorated by groundskeepers and soldiers and perhaps a passing tourist or family members of others buried nearby.

Courtesy http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/flags-arlington-prepares-memorial-day-n363051

Whether one agrees with war or not, whether one supports war or not, it is important to remember that some of us, our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, cousins and friends, are willing to put their lives on the line for us and for their country. Please honour them, and my great aunt Maude, by taking a moment to watch this touching short video.

2015 March 23-28: Steve's Report: Trip to the South

We got back Saturday night to find our internet service gone, and didn't get it restored until just now (Monday AM). We left Monday morning for Mirissa on the south coast a beautiful touristy resort city with a lovely (but boring) beach. We stayed in a very interesting hotel built in a series of levels up the side of a hill. It had a rooftop swimming pool, so it was quite luxurious. I have no interest in beaches; our real motive for going to Mirissa is that it happens to be the place where the blue whale tours -- now famous worldwide -- originate. It was only recently discovered that large numbers of blue whales live year round off Sri Lanka's south coast.

Tuesday morning we climbed aboard one of more than a dozen smallish whale tour boats (ours seated thirty people or so) and headed out into the Indian Ocean. On the way out, we saw flying fish, very bizarre creatures that erupt from the waves and glide rapidly along, banking and changing direction as their long fins flutter like wings. There were few seabirds aside from the ubiquitous whiskered terns. To everybody's (and especially Elanor's) delight, we found ourselves in the middle of a huge school of acrobatic spinner dolphins (as many as 200 individuals) that leaped and pirouetted in groups of five or ten at a time. We watched them for quite a while. Much farther out to sea (about 15 miles) we finally found blue whales -- five in all, and one pair that we were able to approach within a hundred yards. They are truly enormous, visibly much larger than the humpback and even the fin whales we see so often in Newfoundland, and do quite a bit of rolling and fluke-displaying between dives. One of them must have been nearly 100 feet long. Standing in the presence of the largest animal that has ever lived on this planet (or perhaps, anywhere else!) was a nearly religious experience. On the was back to shore, three pomarine jaegers -- very rare birds this far south -- flew past the boat. Elanor and I spent quite a bit of time in the hotel swimming pool, and she's now really learning to swim quite well. She learned to do a passable crawl while we were there, as well as to swim on her back all over the pool and to tread water. She's now fearless in the deep end, and I've ceased to worry about her drowning.

On Wednesday we went over to Tissamaharama (near Kataragama in southeast Sri Lanka), a lovely town near both Bundala and Yala national parks. We stayed at a small hotel beside a lake full of lotuses that absolutely brimmed over with birdlife, including such beauties as pheasant-tailed jacanas, purple swamphens, lesser whistling-ducks, and black bitterns. The woods and paddies around the lake were also alive with birds. The huge pipal tree at the Buddhist shrine near the hotel usually had green imperial pigeons roosting, and the newly-cut rice paddies were full of little birds like ashy prinias, scaly-breasted munias, and the dauntingly-named zitting cisticola. I racked up quite a number of new species for my growing ebird list just walking around the lake. Also, several mugger crocodiles lived in the lake; one fair-sized individual often lay out in the sun on an islet, daring the lapwings, cormorants, and other waterbirds to come within reach. Elanor enjoyed observing the epic numbers of geckos around the hotel and following around the large monitor lizard that patrolled the grounds.

We headed out at 4:30 AM for Yala National Park in a safari jeep. The driver was pretty knowledgeable. We told him we didn't want to participate in the mad rush into the park when the gates opened to go to the spot where leopards were usually seen. If we saw a leopard, fine, but we wanted to go at a leisurely pace, along less-traveled roads, and see lots of birds. We arrived at the park gates while it was still dark and waited in the gloom for dawn to break. Accordingly, when the gates opened, the other jeeps tore off in the direction of the main leopard sighting area, and we took "the road less traveled" by ourselves. As a result, we didn't see any leopards, but we saw many other things, mostly without other vehicles around. The first prize of the day was a lesser adjutant, a very rare giant stork species, standing in the middle of the road. We got a good long look at him. We found large, very entertaining flocks of Malabar pied hornbills that cackled and cavorted in the trees along the road. Also present were plenty of grey langurs and tocque macaques, as well as wild water buffalo (one of the few places in the world where they can be seen), and lots of mugger crocodiles, including one that was more than 15 feet long. The landscape was surprisingly beautiful, with scrub jungle punctuated by ponds and lakes, as well as ranges of striking rocky hills and tors, one of which resembled a human profile. We stopped at every pond and tallied species, with Pam taking oodles of photos. Near the sea, we found a beautiful flock of herons, painted storks, and spoonbills probing in the mud for snails and whatever. Behind then stood two great thick-knee (the first burrhinids I've ever seen) and a host of shorebirds. While we were watching these, a grey-headed fish eagle sailed up and landed on a log; Pam got nice shots of him.

Back inland, we found many more birds, including the crested treeswift, the golden-fronted leafbird, and the ashy-crowned sparrow lark, among many others. We saw several mongooses and at least three Indian monitor lizards, hers of spotted deer, a pair of sambar, quite a few wild boar, and finally, a number of elephants. The first one we encountered was a large tusker walking down the middle of the road, which we followed, along with several other jeeps. Eventually, he let us pass -- so close that we could see his cheek glands. Elanor, of course, was ecstatic. A little further along, we came across a female elephant with two half-grown calves bathing in a pool. We watched them blow water on each other for a while. We later encountered another large tusked male. by the day's end we had tallied more than 90 bird species.

Friday we went to Bundala National Park, known primarily for its birds. Here we were accompanied by a park guide who knew where to find the birds. We racked up lots more species, including a pied cuckoo and common thick-knee. Our real hope was to find the black-necked stork, of which only one lives in Bundala and the other ten or eleven (Sri Lanka's entire population) in remote corners of Yala. At one point, we came upon two huge saltwater crocodiles mating at the edge of a lagoon; they glared at us and began swimming slowly out into the lagoon, passing within a few feet of our vehicle. Bundala also had enormous numbers of langurs and macaques all along the roads, and Elanor happily kept a tally. Finally, just past noon, in a remote salt pan full of painted storks, spoonbills, and smaller shorebirds of many kinds, we found the black-necked stork, a very shy bird that stayed just close enough for a good long look in the spotting scope. As a bonus, I spotted a small group of rare pratincoles, a sort of cross between a swallow and a sandpiper. Once again, we ended up with nearly a hundred species for the day.

After we got back to Tissa, we took a took-took (!!) up to Kataragama, one of Sri Lanka's two holiest places, revered by Hindus, Muslims, and Buddhists alike. The sprawling complex of temples and shrines extended over many acres. For me the most interesting thing was the cell phone tower built of reconditioned sewer pipes, which had become a preferred roost for the Malabar pied hornbills that frequented the area. The place was of course full of hawkers and beggars, as well as Hindu holy men and Buddhist monks, and monkeys were everywhere. The temple elephant was getting its daily bath in the Menik river when we arrived, which Elanor watched with rapt attention.

Saturday we took the only air-conditioned bus of the day back to Colombo (a six hour trip, including a rest stop in Matara). We got home to a dead internet and a new water leak in the upstairs hallway, but it was a great trip. Elanor is now a very seasoned jungle adventuress, and can't quite decide if she likes the monkeys, elephants, or dolphins the most. I've nicknamed her "Elanor of the elephants."

Fried Dough Odyssey

Growing up, my brother and I loved when mom made homemade bread. If we were lucky, she would save us a little bit of the dough so we could flatten it out between our hands, then fry it in some butter in a pan on the stove. Maybe add a little rhubarb jam or molasses afterwards. Toutons, we called them. So yummy!

Courtesy https://billandpaulinesexcellentadventures.wordpress.com/2012/03/04/dining-dangerously-corner-brook-carnival-cuisine/

Sometimes when we went camping as a family, or when we went camping with the Girl Guides or the Boy Scouts, we would wrap the dough around sticks and roast it over the fire. Smoky mouthwatering goodness, straight from the hot coals to our eager maws.

Courtesy https://erinsdckitchen.wordpress.com/2012/07/23/dough-boys-or-the-dessert-to-end-all-desserts/

These days, mom doesn't make bread in the old bread bowl, but she and dad do use a breadmaker. No stovetop toutons, though. But she does make an incredible onion pudding:

Norma's Onion Pudding
1 cup flour
2 tbsp butter
1/3 cup milk
2 tbsp baking powder
1 medium onion grated
salt
a bit of sugar

Mix flour butter, baking powder, salt and sugar together. Add onion and milk to make a soft dough. Grease pan, cover and boil over water or bake in oven at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Try centre to check that it is done.

Courtesy http://stuffedatthegills.blogspot.com/2014/12/steamed-onion-pudding.html
This one is steamed, but we like it baked better.

In 1998 my daughter Amber and I moved to Pond Inlet, Nunavut. There we fell in love with bannock. We eagerly waited for special occasions at the school, like Inuit Games Day, where one of the stations that the children rotated through was the refreshment tent. It served hot deep fried bannock, fresh out of the cooking oil. Amber and the other children would gobble it down as fast as it could be made. There was nothing quite like fresh bannock cooked outside and eaten outside.

Courtesy http://ronwassink.blogspot.com/2010/10/deep-fried-bannock.html

I lost my recipe years ago in an unfortunate moving incident. I had a bag that was filled with all my old recipes, some of them irreplaceable as the people who had shared them with me had passed on. My then-husband, thinking he was being helpful, saw the bag sitting in the kitchen and threw it in the dumpster near our townhouse. Before I realized the bag was missing, the dumpster had been emptied. Bye bye recipes.

I recently sent out a plea to my friends in Pond, hoping to replace my bannock recipes.

"For frying, 2 cups of flour, 1tsp baking powder. And salt if you want and 1 cup water mix it up," said Donna Pitseolak-Kublu, who got the recipe from Morty Pitseolak, who was the post-mistress in Pond when we lived there. Get some cooking oil good and hot and drop in pieces of the dough and fry until done. I asked Donna, "And what about the one that you bake? The recipe's almost the same, I think, but maybe has a little sugar in it? and oil?" This is the way that Rebecca Qitsualik, the elder who taught me Inuktitut, made hers. She was an unusual woman, the only Inuit elder at the time who was trilingual in Inuktitut, Innuinaqtung, and English. (Her favourite food was Philadelphia cream cheese, because it tasted just like the baby seal stomach that her parents used to feed her as a child. Think about that the next time you eat a bagel!) Donna replied, "I don't put sugar in mine. I find it too sweet. I remember my late mother Seanna used to use flour, baking powder , salt and little bit of oil and water and she wouldn't use any measuring cup." 

Courtesy of http://shay.la/poached-eggs-smoked-pork-bannock-cage-free/

Incidentally, Donna's mother made my kamiks - traditional boots made from caribou leg skin with the fur attached and an inlaid chevron design of alternating black and white seal fur. They were stunningly beautiful. She also made matching kamiks for the guy I was with at the time, but his had the fur reversed - the main part of the boot was made from sealskin and the design from caribou. She explained that these were wedding kamiks - the man's used a sea animal and a little bit of land animal, while the woman's used a land animal and a little bit of sea animal. This way, the family would always be provided for, because the man would not insult the sea creatures while out on the ice, and the woman would not insult the sea creatures back home on the land.

But, back to the fried dough....

Naomi Tigullaraq, my friend and former teaching colleague at Ulaakjuk School, told me, " I never measure mine, when I'm making one, might give you the wrong measurement. Flour, water, baking powder, lard or oil, and pinch of salt if you want to add some, and some people used milk instead of water."

And my former student Nina Kautaq said, "We just dump everything together."

This reminds of the old Newfoundland cookbook my mother has, which lists the ingredients, and that's it. No step-by-step instructions, no oven temperature, no bake time. Those were things you were expected to know already!

In 2002 I went to China. There we had salted youtiao, long strips of fried dough, with our morning breakfast congee, or rice porridge. In the late afternoon, we might sometimes have a similar dish called tanggao, but shorter and dipped into sugar. Either way, they were yummy. 

"Chinese fried bread". Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Chinese_fried_bread.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Chinese_fried_bread.jpg

In 2007, I moved to a Dene community in the Northwest Territories. Again, bannock was heavy on the menu at any cultural or school event. Sometimes they deep-fried it, but just as often they pan-fried it, like Newfoundland toutons.

3 cups flour
1 tsp salt
2 tbsp baking powder
1/3 cup oil
1 1/2 cups water

Mix the dry ingredients together in a bowl. Mix the wet ingredients together in a measuring cup. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, and mix together until it forms a ball. Knead on a floured surface until it is no longer sticky, adding a little more flour if necessary. Divide into two or three pieces, depending on the size of your frying pan. Flatten each piece to about 1 inch thickness. Fry in a greased pan on medium heat for about fifteen minutes each side. Serve with jam. 

Courtesy https://mrsmelva.wordpress.com/2010/05/15/our-trip-to-the-rapids/

In 2012 I moved to a Cree community in Manitoba. The Cree people love their bannock! And for good reason - fried or baked, smeared with butter and jam that drips down your face...it doesn't get better than this! 

Elanor and a boy in her grade three class enjoying some fresh bannock.

The remains of the bannock station at cultural days after a class had passed through.

We were invited for supper at a the home of a friend from church a couple of Sundays ago. Well, not exactly their home. Her mother-in-law's home, because it was close to where we lived and they didn't want us to get lost going to their own home, which is apparently in some little village some distance from here.

While Steve has been in typical Sri Lankan homes before, it was my first time. We walked down the long lane through the small Tamil neighbourhood near the beach in Negombo. The front yard was immaculately swept - a chore performed every morning by the woman of the house - and the front door was surrounded by a large beautiful jasmine bush. We entered the small home and sat chatting with our friend for a while. As we chatted, she formed the dough that her mother-in-law had made into flat little rounds, and began frying them. They were delicious.

Then her mother-in-law came home, removed those from the table, and replaced them with ones that she herself had made! Only the best for guests - and while our friend's dough was great, her mother-in-law's was incredible. (It reminded me of my own bread-making experiences with my daughter, Amber. We could follow the exact same recipe, but her bread always tasted better than mine.)

So, now I have eaten the lightest, thinnest fried dough I have ever had. Crispy on the outside, with pockets of warm soft dough inside in some places, bubbles of air in others.


I had four.

Maybe five.

Or six.

Plus the two I had already eaten that were made by our friend.

Now I have to get that recipe!

2015 March 18: Whoa! That's Not the Sort of Thing You Want to Find in Your Bathroom!

Our home, like many Sri Lankan homes, has become the abode of many and assorted creatures. In a place where no house is completely sealed to the outside elements due to slatted window spaces for airflow and the need to air out houses daily in order to keep the insides from mildewing, it's just a fact of life.

We have had our share of winged creatures. Butterflies drift through. All sorts of flies - damsel flies, houseflies, gnats. Mosquitoes, the bane of mine and Elanor's existence. Despite mosquito coils, mosquito screens in the bedrooms, mosquito nets over the beds, Elanor and I still awake with mosquito bites every morning. Yesterday a tuktuk driver in Colombo saw Elanor's legs and told us about a product called soffel which is supposed to keep mosquitoes away. It is on our list of items to find today.

Beetles have also made their way through. Yesterday we had a scarab beetle trudging along the floor until Steve put it outside. Beetles are his thing, not mine. He loves beetles. That's why he and his best friend Sam have a collection of about 35 000 of them from all over the world. You can read about some of Sam's beetles adventures here.

Spiders are common as well. There is a species here that I am calling a ghost spider, for lack of a better name. So transparent you barely see them, with tiny bodies and long legs. Most of the time I only know they are there as I see them scurrying away from the morning's dust pile as I sweep the floor. We love watching the jumping spiders. Completely harmless - to us! - but they sure make quick work of other insects.

Geckos are also plentiful. Last night Elanor had the tiniest one I have seen yet crawling down her wall. While I was cooking supper another ran along the wall in front of me. Every night we fall asleep to the click click click sounds that they make. Surprisingly loud for such little creatures. We love them. Sri Lankans have a love-hate relationship with them. They love them because they eat all the bugs. They hate them because they can get into your food and they do poop on your walls.

Ants also come and go. We had harmless big black ants one day, but I just swept away their trail as they went out the door and they haven't been back. There are also tiny little red ants. They mostly leave us alone, unless we are in the shower. And they are surprisingly strong. Elanor and I watched a dozen of them carrying a bite of pancake that she had dropped, all twelve tiny ants moving in perfect unison to carry away their prize.

There is a palm squirrel that thinks he owns the place. We think he lives in the roof in the two feet of space between the red tile shingles on the outside and the wooden slats on the inside. The same palm squirrel that tried to move into the spare bedroom one day.

Our yard is slowly becoming populated as well. A koel spends part of every day in one of our trees now. I am not sure which wakes me in the morning - the koel calling or the local mosque! He also starts telling us about 4:30 every evening that the day is done.

Sometimes creatures show up in the bathrooms, Elanor's bathroom especially, since it is on the ground floor. Geckos are common, as are ants, mosquitoes, gnats, beetles, damsel flies, as she chooses to keep her bathroom light on so she "doesn't have to turn it off and on all the time" despite both Steve and I frequently telling her that she is attracting insects by doing so. Like many ten year olds, she knows best and her parents could not possibly know what they are talking about.

And so, a few nights ago, she took a shower, then came into her bedroom where I was sitting in the A/C and working, and said, "Uh, Mom? Something skinny and black just went under my shirt that's on the floor." Note: We have also been telling her that she shouldn't leave things on the floor.

I looked at her said, "I don't have anything to do with skinny black things in bathrooms. That's Dad's area! Go tell him!"

Steve went into her bathroom, and the next thing I hear is "Whoa! That's not the sort of thing you want to find in your bathroom!"

I don't know about you, but that's not the sort of thing I want to hear. Ever.

Apparently one of these things - or one very similar to it - crawled out of Elanor's drain, across her floor, and eventually into a crack in the wall.

Courtesy http://franmart.blogspot.com/2011/09/golden-moths-peas-and-other-delights.html

It was a centipede. A scolopendra, for those interested in knowing the scientific name. These (not so) lovely creatures can get up to 30 cm (1 ft) long in the tropics. The big ones can take out rats and bats, and their bites can be very painful, though not fatal.

That is not very comforting, though, when reading the experiences of Chulie de Silva on her blog. She writes: "The pain was sharp, excruciating, just below the elbow.  This must be the pain that precedes a heart attack  says my sleepy mind and  if so might as well die in the comfy bed – why get up?  Coming out of deep layers of slumber I wait for the heart attack that shows no sign of coming."

But don't kid yourself - they are found in smaller varieties all over the world. In Newfoundland we call them 'earwigs', and we were cautioned by adults to steer clear. With good cause - even the small ones can deliver a painful poisonous bite.

I never wanted to find these in my bathroom back home.

And I really don't want to find them in my bathroom here!

I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about it. As I said, Steve is the bug guy, not me!

2015 March 2: Dhal

Dhal has become one of my favourite foods here in Sri Lanka. Elanor, too. It's usually the one thing on the plate that she knows will not be too spicy, although we have discovered that spicy food is a great way to get her to drink more water! Today for lunch, for example, she and I had savoury pastries that we get from a little Tamil restaurant nearby, including one kind that was really spicy. She drank almost two cups of minty lemonade and a litre and a half of water during lunch!

Dhal (sometimes spelt dal) usually means split lentils, though it can refer to beans and peas as well. In fact, the word itself comes from a Sanskrit word that means 'to split'. It is usually served with rice, as many Sri Lankan Tamils and Buddhists are vegetarian, so dhal becomes the ready protein in any dish. It is very simple to make - basically boil some lentils (or dried peas or beans) in some water with some turmeric and salt until the lentils are soft - some prefer to boil them until they are falling apart. Then add whichever spices or garnishes you like, as can be found in many recipes in a simple google search.

I experimented a little, and found that this is the version that I like to make at home. I make a big pot at once, and then just reheat each evening meal until its gone. Sometimes I add more turmeric or coconut milk or salt, but it depends on the day!

Dhal

Wash and rinse the lentils. Boil on medium heat - not too high or it will boil over - with 2 cups water, 1/3 tsp turmeric, and 1/2 tsp salt until the lentils are soft. 

When the lentils are cooked, heat 1 tbsp oil in a small pan. Add 1/4 tsp mustard seeds, 1/4 tsp coriander seeds, 2 cloves garlic finely chopped, a few curry leaves if you have them, a pinch of crushed chili peppers and heat until the spices release their fragrance. Add to lentils.

Stir in 1/4 to 1/2 cup of milk (I like to use coconut milk) for the consistency you prefer, and heat until it just comes to a boil. Serve hot or warm. 

I think one of the reasons I like dhal so much is that it reminds me of home. A favourite Newfoundland dish is pea soup, prepared much the same way - minus the Sri Lankan spices, of course. Traditionally its made with a ham bone or salt meat, but as a vegetarian, I have found a way to replicate that taste without using meat.

Vegetarian Newfoundland Pea Soup

Finely chop one carrot, one onion and one stalk of celery. Fry in a little margarine or butter in a large pot until soft. Add 3 cups of water and 1 cup of yellow split peas, one or two vegetable bouillon cubes, and a couple splashes of liquid smoke. You can add some garlic and bay leaves and pepper if you like. Cover and boil until peas fall apart. Add salt to taste.

This wouldn't be Newfie Pea Soup without some doughboys, so when the peas are ready...

In a bowl, mix together 1 cup flour, 1 tbsp sugar, 1/2 tsp baking soda, 1 tsp baking powder, 1/4 tsp salt. In a measuring cup, mix together 1/2 cup warm milk and a couple of tbsps of melted butter or margarine.

Quickly add the liquids to the powders and stir until combined.

Now...take the lid off your pea soup that is still simmering away, and give it a real good stir. Drop the batter by the tablespoonful into your soup, close the lid and don't touch it for fifteen minutes! After the time is up, take off the lid, scoop out the doughboys, stir the soup and serve.

Sixty-Four Degrees Part 2

From this in Moncton, New Brunswick, on our way to Newfoundland, Canada, to catch our flight:

To this just a few days later in Sri Lanka:

And in between, we saw some beautiful art and artifacts at the Museum located throughout the Mumbai Airport: