The Tely 10 is an annual ten mile road race sponsored by the Telegram, the daily newspaper in St. John’s, Newfoundland Labrador. This race, one of the oldest road races in North America, has been run every year since 1922 , with the exception of the years of WW II, 1940-45. Had it not been for the Covid-19 pandemic forcing its cancelation, 2020 would have been the 93rd running.
“This is my advice to people: learn how to cook, try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all have fun”.
– Julia Child
The other day I was thinking, now that I have some extra time on my hands due to the Covid-19 restrictions I should work on improving my culinary skills. I haven’t entirely given up cooking over the past several years but since Kim and I got married I haven’t cooked much. It’s not that I don’t want to cook, it’s just that Kim is so much better at it than I am. The meals that I prepare just cannot compare to the amazing food Kim puts out, and, to be perfectly honest, I’m intimidated. However, I decided that it was time to stop hiding behind my fear of not being good enough and just get at it. My food doesn’t have to compete with my wife’s, it just has to be eatable. Besides, I have a great teacher at my disposal, I’d be crazy not to take advantage of that.
When I was around eight years old, maybe ten, I woke up early one morning and went out to the kitchen. I was the first one up and much of the remains from a party my parents had hosted the evening before were still laying about. The first thing to catch my eye was a small dish that held these little round, green things, with a red spot on the end, that I took to be candy. They were not. What I popped into my mouth was a pickled olive. I thought I was going to be sick. I spit it out a grabbed a glass of red liquid that was on the counter nearby, that I thought was Kool-Aid. It was not. Thus was my introduction to olives and wine.
“No one is born a great cook, one learns by doing.”
– Julia Child
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I began my foray into more adventurous cooking with the purchase of two cook books for fifty cents each from my local library’s sale room. These books were, The Silver Spoon, “the bible of authentic Italian cooking”, and Vefa’s Kitchen, a massive book of Greek recipes. In retrospect they were both far too advanced for a novice such as myself, but I was too much the novice to know it.
You can never step into the same book twice, because you are different each time you read it.
– John Barton
I have often read favorite books more then once. Who Has Seen the Wind by W. O. Mitchell, I read twice; Stephen King’s The Stand, I read three times; The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham, five times; Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, I believe is somewhere between thirty five and forty reads (the annual reading of this holiday classic has been a Christmas tradition for me since sometime in my early twenties), and many more titles too numerous to mention.
I have always loved books. I have vague recollections from early childhood of being read to and never wanting it to stop. I recall taking books in my hands and pretending to read them, speaking the story aloud, as best I could, from memory. The first book I remember reading on my own was a popup version of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. I believe I was four years old at the time. I have been hooked on reading ever since.