A different kettle of fish

So, it was about time for me to "treat" myself to a meal I don't have to cook, which I only do about every 2-4 months. I enjoy cooking and I enjoy good food, but I like a little break now and again. I stopped in at my favourite fish and chips shop and ordered halibut and chips--my usual. The last time I had it there, it cost about $12, which I was already thinking is a bit much. This time, I paid $13.51. I won't be patronizing that shop (and perhaps any others) again.

I happened to notice for the first time (not sure if it was a new sign) that the portion of halibut they give is four ounces. Given that potatoes are virtually free compared to the price of halibut, this means that I paid about $50 a pound for the pleasure of enjoying enough fish that if placed in your shoes, and you unwittingly slipped them on, chances are you wouldn't notice.

When I was a mere lad of about six, growing up in downtown Toronto, there was a Chinese fish and chip shop a block and a half from our home. Whenever you were within half a block of the place, you'd get hungry as that wonderful aroma accented by malt vinegar wafted in every direction. They served your order in a firm paper cone, wrapped in a larger newspaper cone from the previous day's news, I guess, and you got a little wooden stick with one end sharpened with which to eat it. What a deal--free reading material while you eat your lunch!

The fries were easy to eat with that stick, but the fish was another kettle of fish. Being very poor at the time, it was almost never that I got to enjoy any of the fish the place served. Matter of fact, on those rare occasions that I even got to taste the fries, one order was usually split between me and a friend or my brother and I. The fish I got to enjoy was never anything more than a small piece from a charitable friend.

The price back then?-- .10 for fries and .25 for fish and chips. No, it wasn't the 18th century.
Getting back to the crux of the matter...they are driving me to produce my own food. And don't think I won't. I will be starting a vegetable garden next spring and I mean to grow every vegetable I like that I can coax to grow in my climate. That could mean as many as thirty varieties. I'll keep you posted.

I suggest you all consider doing the same. It's time we stopped being slaves to anyone who wants to charge 50 times what they paid for something. Oh, and you should also plant fruit trees/berry bushes, etc.


Next, I'll work on trying to get off the grid and any other municipal services I can.



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I made a tomato

Tonight, I enjoyed my first apartment-grown tomato. I hadn't grown anything since losing my home (and garden) to the ravages of divorce and other factors. Back when I was an avid gardener, I used to grow as many as 30 or more different vegetables--yes, my garden was huge. Anyway, I used to say it then and I was just reminded of it--home grown tomatoes are almost like a different vegetable when compared to store-bought. The colour, texture and flavour is incomparable, mine possessing a deeper, richer, red colour, meatier texture and like I alluded, a taste that absolutely excites the taste buds.

I wouldn't necessarily recommend growing tomatoes indoors, though. This was my first try at doing so and it was rife with obstacles and the yield will be extremely scanty. It never occurred to me that I need to manually pollinate the plant (nature never figured that one day mammals would attempt to garden indoors, I guess) until most of the blooms had sprouted and faded. I had to move the plant several times a day in order to expose it to sufficient sunlight and nature also didn't help out in the watering department, forcing me to keep a watchful eye and act accordingly.

Still, the act of slowly and lovingly nurturing something and watching it flourish into a beautiful thing was very rewarding. Eating the son-of-a-bitch was even more rewarding. It's pretty much the same with rearing children--except without the rewarding part.

Stay tuned for my recipe for "tomato and cucumber salad".

I'm a father!

Since I no longer have a vegetable garden (it stayed with the house and my ex-wife), I bought a single tomato plant for my apartment, mostly for company. Having been an outdoor farmer all my life, it never occurred to me that tomato plants require pollination in order to sprout tomatoes. When it finally dawned on me, more than a dozen flowers had appeared only to wither away "childless".

I carefully formed a paper towel (I wasn't about to buy a whole box of Q-tips for any plant) into a point and "sexed" the few remaining open flowers. I did this once a day for about four days. It was looking pretty futile and I thought I had missed the window of opportunity, the flowers having already reached menopause and unable to bear fruit.

I waited a couple more days to see if I could avoid having to put the plant out of my misery. Yesterday morning, right after I got up, I went to check out the barren plant. I gave it the once over and was about to take it away to destroy it when I thought I saw something. I took a closer look.

It was hiding behind the flower, almost indiscernible, but there it was--a tomato! I was the proud father of a bead-sized tomato. There was much rejoicing last night. As many as one beer were drunk. And if that weren't enough to make my year, today, the lil feller is already almost marble-sized. But that's still not all--he has a little brother!

Sure, between the plant, the new pot and the soil, these two tomatoes have cost me about $6.50 apiece, but buying a couple of tomatoes in the store for fifty cents just doesn't give you the thrill that fatherhood does.