Onelife
Well-Known Member
Some time ago I crewed on a delivery trip from Halifax, Nova Scotia back to Falmouth, then Poole. We had been stormbound in Halifax for a week and had made some good friends, all of whom came to see us off and many of whom brought little wrapped gifts for us to take and open as the voyage progressed. One lady, a Newfoundlander or 'Newfy', gave us a hefty glass jar doubly wrapped in greaseproof paper which contained, she said, "A lovely tasty treat to be enjoyed when you're halfway across."
The first half of the trip was a challenge; 5 days of thick fog followed by 4 days of F9-F10, and the whole crew were feeling tired and needed a little lift. As the duty galley slave on Day 10, (and battling against 3-day-old sea-sickness), I decided to open up this mystery parcel and serve it as a little treat to bolster morale. With the Cottage Pie almost ready to go, I peeled off the layers of wrapping paper to reveal a big thick coil of grey flesh in a jar of chilli vinegar It smelt awful and looked far worse, a vision straight from an O-level Biology period or Charles Darwin's personal collection. I puked. It was as much as I could do to drain it, slice it and serve it up as an interesting accompaniment to my culinary treat for the boys up top. None of them ate it; they all poked it and prodded it and the helmsman puked as soon as he smelt it, and two minutes later, after a debate about what the hell it actually was, the jar and the rest of its contents went for a long, cold swim.
Two weeks later, safely home, we sent a newsletter back to our Canadian friends to let them know we had arrived and to thank them for our little treats, the chocolates, the whisky and especially the jellied eel.
We later received a charming note to say they were glad we were home safe, and were very surprised because no-one else who had visited them had ever actually been able to eat this woman's special dish - Pickled Reindeer Tongue - a delicacy amongst the indigenous people of Newfoundland!
Needless to say, "Cottage Pie with Reindeer Tongue Garni" has been permanently removed from Onelife's Menu - and the phrase "Never look a gift horse .........." still makes me retch.
The first half of the trip was a challenge; 5 days of thick fog followed by 4 days of F9-F10, and the whole crew were feeling tired and needed a little lift. As the duty galley slave on Day 10, (and battling against 3-day-old sea-sickness), I decided to open up this mystery parcel and serve it as a little treat to bolster morale. With the Cottage Pie almost ready to go, I peeled off the layers of wrapping paper to reveal a big thick coil of grey flesh in a jar of chilli vinegar It smelt awful and looked far worse, a vision straight from an O-level Biology period or Charles Darwin's personal collection. I puked. It was as much as I could do to drain it, slice it and serve it up as an interesting accompaniment to my culinary treat for the boys up top. None of them ate it; they all poked it and prodded it and the helmsman puked as soon as he smelt it, and two minutes later, after a debate about what the hell it actually was, the jar and the rest of its contents went for a long, cold swim.
Two weeks later, safely home, we sent a newsletter back to our Canadian friends to let them know we had arrived and to thank them for our little treats, the chocolates, the whisky and especially the jellied eel.
We later received a charming note to say they were glad we were home safe, and were very surprised because no-one else who had visited them had ever actually been able to eat this woman's special dish - Pickled Reindeer Tongue - a delicacy amongst the indigenous people of Newfoundland!
Needless to say, "Cottage Pie with Reindeer Tongue Garni" has been permanently removed from Onelife's Menu - and the phrase "Never look a gift horse .........." still makes me retch.
