A Fishy Culinary Tradition

 

Whose idea was it to add breading or batter to fish? Fish is delicious when fried or seared, rich in flavour and texture. Breading it just masks the flavour and makes the whole dish feel much heavier than it should. 

Maybe I'm spoiled. Mom and Dad used to catch fresh fish from the pristine lakes of northern Manitoba and clean and fry the fillets right at the campground. The pickerel and trout they prepared in those days remains my favourite meal of all time. All fish since has paled in comparison. 

Even so, I can still enjoy fish if it's not wrapped in a casing of fried lard and butter. 

Fish: better without the batter. 

A Short History of Transair by The View from Seven

Way back in the early 1970s, I flew for the first time. Mom will have to correct my memory, but I believe we flew from Winnipeg to Thompson on a Transair 707, then from Thompson to Leaf Rapids on a much smaller propeller-driven plane.

At least I think that's how it happened. I remember Mom bought me an inflatable Transair jet, which some time later shifted in the closet while I was sleeping and terrified me, causing me to bolt downstairs in a flash into the arms of my parents because I thought it was a monster.

Transair was a short-lived Winnipeg-based airline with a brown and yellow paint scheme--very 1970s. I'm not sure why I was thinking about it today, but to my delight someone's actually written a capsule history of the airline. If you're interested in flying or Manitoba history, read about Transair here. 

Broken Hovercraft

One more for the graveyard of childhood, a Matchbox hovercraft from the 1970s, probably purchased in Thompson, Manitoba. Kind of amazing the stickers are still in place. I don't remember what might have run along the top; you can still see the holes where some kind of plastic detail was once anchored. 

Tanks for the Playtime

Farewell, World War II toy tank made by Corgi and purchased sometime in the 1970s in Thompson or Leaf Rapids, I barely knew ye. 

Thompson Peaks

I find it kind of hard to believe I didn't think of this back in 1990, but better late than never. For those who don't recognize the background, it's a photo I took of Pisew Falls back in 2009, near Thompson, Manitoba. Thompson would be a great place for a Canadian version of Twin Peaks, although Leaf Rapids would be even better...but "Leaf Rapids Peaks" doesn't sound right. Actually, I guess "Leaf Rapids" works as a title on its own...I'm rambling, I'll stop. 

Saving the Cars

Sometime in the early 1970s, there was a kitchen fire in our Thompson house. Mom or Dad came to collect me from my room, but I grabbed my ice cream pail full of Hot Wheels cars before they hauled me out. "I'm not leaving without my cars!" I said, or so I imagine.

It wasn't a serious fire. I remember playing with my cars on the stoop as the firemen took care of it.

You can see the stoop above, with my maternal grandparents. We didn't live in Thompson for more than a couple of years, so I must have been approximately the age seen here when the fire happened. 

The Splendour of the 70s

The jacket isn't so bad, but the pants! The carpet! The chair! The horror. Check out that sweet vintage John Deere toy, though. And I appear to have a chocolate chip cookie in hand. No wonder I look happy. 

Life is a Highway in Northern Manitoba

Canadian rock musician Tom Cochrane and Lynn Lake native is being honoured by the Manitoba government; Manitoba Highway 391 is being named after him.

I'm familiar with Lynn Lake, of course, having visited a few times during our family's time in Leaf Rapids, the closet community to Lynn Lake. I didn't realize that Cochrane hailed from there. As the CBC story notes, he'll actually be playing Lynn Lake next year. I'm trying to imagine what venue will be available for the show...northern Manitoba is not exactly overflowing with decent infrastructure.

Here's Highway 391:

For the record, I'm not really a fan of "Life is a Highway," but I still think the honour is pretty cool, and I do really love "Boy Inside the Man" and "Lunatic Fringe."

Here's an image of Sean and me on Highway 391. Perhaps we're dancing to "Life is a Highway." 

Snow Place Like Home

The author in a snowsuit in Thompson sometime in 1971 or 1972. 

There's a lot more snow there today. Wear your mittens!

I'm seeing reports on Twitter and Facebook that my old home towns of Flin Flon, Thompson, Leaf Rapids and Cranberry Portage are under siege from snow, with Leaf Rapids in particular getting at least 60 cm of snow with up to 15 cm more on the way by day's end. Winter always came thick and fast in northern Manitoba. I hope everyone's hunkered down with supplies and a good book or two. 

Linear Exponential Lateral Northwestward Ho

Born
In
Flin Flon
Thompson was
Next then Leaf Rapids
Leduc came after a long drive
Finally Edmonton, and who knows where next? Not me. 

47

I'm not really keen on celebrating my birthday, especially as I get older, but here are four photos from my fourth birthday, which took place 43 years ago in Thompson, Manitoba. 

Yellows and Blues

Vroom!
Said the child I was that Christmas morning
Amazed by his plastic snowmobile
And his matching pajamas
Whatever happened to these two?
(they rode into the soft falling snow, and faded to white)  

I Want to Ride My Tricycle, I Want to Ride My Trike

I used to really get around on this tricycle in Thompson. I can still feel the texture of the hand grips. Sure, that I remember, but not playing mini golf in Calaway Park a decade or more later...

Fisher Price Airport Blues

Here I am sometime in the early 1970s with one of my favourite toys: the Fisher-Price airport set. What fun I had sending the little people on their imaginary journeys and bringing them home again.

There's something interesting about this shot: there's a photograph leaning against the base of the lamp in the background. Even at maximum resolution you can't make out who's in the photo, but you can tell that it's a close-up of a single person. Maybe the negative of that print is somewhere in my files, yet to be scanned. It's almost meta. 

Earlangelo

Sometime during the early 1970s, I painted this board with a nail sticking out of it. I wonder whatever became of that board. 

LEGO Advent Calendar Haiku Day 22

Tonka memories
Big yellow truck went missing
Stolen in Thompson

Exploring 391

When we moved from Thompson to Leaf Rapids, provincial highway 391 wasn't yet complete; we had to fly in. Here Mom and I bear witness to the road's construction, somewhere just outside Leaf Rapids. I suppose this means we were among the first to use the new highway. 391 remains a gravel road, save for a few kilometres near Leaf Rapids itself.

I don't remember us ever owning a green Ford like this, though the muddy icicles clinging to its frame are familiar enough. I wonder what I'm clutching in my hand.

The 391 Shuffle

Manitoba Provincial Road 391 connects Thompson to Lynn Lake, and passes through Leaf Rapids on the way. In 2009, Sean and I stopped to indicate our direction of travel, north by northwest, an imaginary bearing for an almost-imaginary place...

The Tricycle Summit

Here's blonde Earl again at the far left. This photograph was taken sometime in the early 1970s in Thompson, Manitoba. I barely remember the house, and I don't remember the other children at all. Who were they and where are they now, I wonder?

I do, however, remember the tricycle. I was very fond of it. If it were midsummer and I suddenly came into possession of an adult-sized trike, I'd quite happily ride it 'round the park, legs pumping perhaps not quite as quickly as they once could, but pumping nonetheless with great nostalgic enthusiasm.

Harrier vs. Locomotive

Mom and Dad dropped in for a short visit today, and in passing I mentioned that I might accompany my friends Stephen and Audrey and their family to Churchill, Manitoba in August. I knew that Dad had made the trip, but until today I didn't know that his train voyage in 1972 also involved a game of chicken with a Harrier jump jet.

Dad was sent to Churchill by Acklands Ltd. on a business trip, who generously paid for a sleeper berth, which gave him access to the dining car and "the best prime rib I've ever had." The trip from Thompson to Churchill takes many hours, and the train would periodically stop in the middle of the bush to allow fur trappers to snip into their snowshoes and egress into the wild.

As the train approached Churchill station, Dad noticed a Harrier jump jet flying about. As he and other passengers craned their necks out the windows for a closer look, the jet swooped down to hover over the tracks, directly in the train's path. It was perhaps the deadliest game of chicken ever played, with the train's horn shrilling angrily and the exhaust from the jet's powerful engines blasting ground debris everywhere.

Of course in a game of chicken with a locomotive even a multimillion dollar fighter aircraft must yield, so at the last possible second the pilot cranked up the throttle and leaped forward and upward, soaring over the rumbling train.

"What happened to the pilot?" I asked Dad, who had made inquiries after the incident; the fellow was a British national.

"He got sent home," Dad answered solemnly.

What a photo or painting that would have made.