Melting Pot...
All of a sudden, the readership of my little blog has jumped to over the 10,000 mark! How amazing! This week it's South American countries I see listed in my "audience". Last week was the Ukraine. Why these fits and spurts happen is beyond me, but that's okay, they make me happy. (Especially if they actually read them and not just skip onto the next one!) This month on my blogger statistics page it shows Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, Portugal and Columbia. (Isn't this a wonderful tool?) Can't say I've ever know anyone in those places...today or in the past. This week is Sao Paulo, Sonora, Rio de Janeiro, New York and Moscow...all places that show up on the Live Feed at the bottom of my blog. The Live Feed lists who's been there looking (only their country) and I guess it's what they call 'in real time'. Alot of these places are HOT countries and I think I might understand how it happens that they get to reading a northerner's blog. I guess it's a chance for them to experience cold winters and places with seasons vicariously through someone like me...a blogger who tells a story. If you're from somewhere hot and you blog too, then maybe I can share your balmy temperatures when it's minus forty for days on end here. If you can live life through the eyes of someone else, I guess that's the next best thing.
Tonight, I ventured outside after supper. It's only -20, but there's a wind, so probably closer to -30 with the wind chill. I put on big boots, ski pants, toque, infinity scarf, really thick gloves, and a long jacket. Sound like a pain? Well, it is, and probably one of the reasons I hardly do it this time of year. I had to shovel my sidewalk and driveway earlier today, so got a taste for 'dressing up' so to speak. The real treat is the fresh air...it gets in your blood and then you want more. Just because of all these awesome places showing up in my blog, I decided to talk about some of the cultures I've been exposed to in my life. People are people and I've known and grown up with a whole variety being a Canadian. It's always good to reminisce about the fun times, and the differences and similarities between their families and mine. Living in Saskatchewan, there really were a large number of different cultures such as Ukrainians and Poles from Poland, Swedish and Norwegian, Scottish, Irish, English, East Indian, Pakistani, French, to start with. Make no mistake, two nationalities might seem almost the same, but they are not and are quick to point it out. All of these were mingling with the people already here, the Cree, Dene and others. In past decades, we have been joined by many from countries not seen here much before. I have friends who are Iranian, Chilean, Guatamalan, East Indian and know Canadians living in Thailand and other countries. Many live in warmer climates, like Mexico, even if only for half the year.
By the time my generation came along ( being born in the mid 1950's), many immigrant families had lived here in Canada for several hundred years. At least two generations of all of us "immigrants" had come before, or so it seemed. People nowadays are much more open about telling their true-to-life stories publicly than ever before. Little did we know, but many fled their homeland because of tyranny, political strife, famine and/or poverty.
From what I can tell, most immigrants are nothing if not preservers of their traditions and culture. In fact, the towns and surrounding communities get immersed in each other's ways, so not only their way, but ours, and their food, and ours.....and especially, did I say their food? So much so, many once unknown dishes to one culture have become staples to the others. I'm talking about dishes like perogies, borscht, and cabbage rolls for instance, borrowed from the Ukrainians. I can't speak for other provinces, but I expect the situation is similiar elsewhere in Canada.
About forty years ago, I knew a Ukrainian baba (grandmas) who would sell her homemade perogies for ridiculously cheap prices....like $2.00 for ten dozen. They were the good ones, the little ones...not those big fat ones with thick dough that some machine cranked out. This was dough rolled out to a sliver on a countertop by a lady, as strong as an ox. She had lovingly formed, filled and frozen the tasty potato and cheese morsels side by side on a tea towel covered cookie sheet then placed in the freezer. Once frozen, they were put into a clear plastic bag that was tied with a twist tie. All you had to do was pick them up and pay, then take them home to enjoy. So easy to prepare, simply drop into a boiling pot of water and wait for them to rise to the top. Drain, cover with melted butter and onions and add a dollop of sour cream. Presto! You had a feast fit for a king! Those same perogies today still aren't very expensive and are not too hard to get your hands on for special events like family gatherings, Easter, or Christmas.
Nowadays, it doesn't much matter where you go you will find someone who has some sort of different heritage than your own around here. Kokums (Cree grandmas) know how to make your mouth water with their bannock. These are similar to a biscuit and really tasty. I have had bannock several times, and once again, it is delicious and a relatively low cost cultural food.
In my family and many, many others, we made teeny, little dill pickles from the cucumbers in our gardens. We always had dozens of sealers full to add to any meal for most of the winter. It's only been the last few years that you could actually purchase them in a store. Beet pickles were another favorite that I noticed have shown up on store shelves within the last decade or so.
There are regularly planned galas to celebrate culture in many cities. In Saskatoon, every August there is a huge event held in multiple locations around the city to showcase the different cultures living here. They have feasts at each pavilion, dancing, singing, bands playing music, and of course food and drinking (and not just coffee and water :-). The events include displays of handiwork, arts, and crafts and every manner of dress that can show off a culture. Every time I go, I try to visit the pavilions of my own heritage - Norwegian, Scottish, and Irish. Plus, I like to attend others such as the Philippino, German, American, East Indian, Greek, and Jamaican....to name a few. The idea is to purchase a passport booklet and get it stamped at every place you stop to visit. There is always fun, cultural items to purchase and people absolutely flock to this annual event. It includes most everyone in the entire city and rural areas and many volunteers work extra hard to make it such a huge success. I went to the home page and found that 2014 will be their 35th year in Saskatoon. Check them out at www.saskatoonfolkfest.com.
I learned quite alot making my way around to the different pavilions over the years. The first year I ever went was with my Mom and Dad and we went to the Norwegian pavilion. It was in the Marion Graham high school and there were signs all over with the word "OOFTA". (Forgive me if I've told you this story before!) Now my grandpa is Norwegian and he would always say HOOFTA as an expression. As little kids, we took to using it too....just out of habit and being copy cats, of course. You know, monkey see, monkey do. I still find myself saying it! Little did I know that it really was an expression used widely by Norwegians. At that pavilion, we ate blotkake (a type of cake) and crumkake (a type of pastry)....both so melt-in-your-mouth as to die for. We had always had tastes of lefse (a type of soft-dough flat bread) growing up, but never cut up into these teeny little rolls buttered with brown sugar and cinnamon....(Actually, at home, we had generally eaten half the lathered bread at one sitting!)
I'll give you some of the highlights, but as you can imagine, there is always plenty more going on than this little blurb can tell.. At the Irish pavilion there was much drinking, dancing, singing and merriment. No fights... At the Scottish, a pipe and drum band was performing and they were serving hummus. At the Ukrainian, there was scrumptious food that without a word of a lie, 300 people were lined up to get. Traditional Ukrainian dancers lined the stage. At the German pavilion, there was sausage and music, at the Greek we got skewers of souvlaki, and they were oh so tasty!. The Philippinos had the most beautiful handiwork for sale, and I remember buying this massive lacy, crocheted pineapple-patterned table cloth... for next to nothing. I think I was over the top by the time I ate at the Jamaican pavilion because I started to get an upset stomach. Maybe I'm just not used to so much variety, let alone have a spicy palate. The American pavilion had popcorn and a Blues singer strumming away. Other years I have attended a variety, but overall, they are all a genuine feast for the senses. You go there with great expectations, run into all kinds of people you know or not, and leave with a full tummy and toes just a'tapping.
Democracy with freedom of speech and religion is a wonderful right that we hold dear in this part of the world. Many of us have days when we tend take these freedoms for granted, but for many others their new reality is far too precious to ever forget.
All of a sudden, the readership of my little blog has jumped to over the 10,000 mark! How amazing! This week it's South American countries I see listed in my "audience". Last week was the Ukraine. Why these fits and spurts happen is beyond me, but that's okay, they make me happy. (Especially if they actually read them and not just skip onto the next one!) This month on my blogger statistics page it shows Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, Portugal and Columbia. (Isn't this a wonderful tool?) Can't say I've ever know anyone in those places...today or in the past. This week is Sao Paulo, Sonora, Rio de Janeiro, New York and Moscow...all places that show up on the Live Feed at the bottom of my blog. The Live Feed lists who's been there looking (only their country) and I guess it's what they call 'in real time'. Alot of these places are HOT countries and I think I might understand how it happens that they get to reading a northerner's blog. I guess it's a chance for them to experience cold winters and places with seasons vicariously through someone like me...a blogger who tells a story. If you're from somewhere hot and you blog too, then maybe I can share your balmy temperatures when it's minus forty for days on end here. If you can live life through the eyes of someone else, I guess that's the next best thing.
Tonight, I ventured outside after supper. It's only -20, but there's a wind, so probably closer to -30 with the wind chill. I put on big boots, ski pants, toque, infinity scarf, really thick gloves, and a long jacket. Sound like a pain? Well, it is, and probably one of the reasons I hardly do it this time of year. I had to shovel my sidewalk and driveway earlier today, so got a taste for 'dressing up' so to speak. The real treat is the fresh air...it gets in your blood and then you want more. Just because of all these awesome places showing up in my blog, I decided to talk about some of the cultures I've been exposed to in my life. People are people and I've known and grown up with a whole variety being a Canadian. It's always good to reminisce about the fun times, and the differences and similarities between their families and mine. Living in Saskatchewan, there really were a large number of different cultures such as Ukrainians and Poles from Poland, Swedish and Norwegian, Scottish, Irish, English, East Indian, Pakistani, French, to start with. Make no mistake, two nationalities might seem almost the same, but they are not and are quick to point it out. All of these were mingling with the people already here, the Cree, Dene and others. In past decades, we have been joined by many from countries not seen here much before. I have friends who are Iranian, Chilean, Guatamalan, East Indian and know Canadians living in Thailand and other countries. Many live in warmer climates, like Mexico, even if only for half the year.
By the time my generation came along ( being born in the mid 1950's), many immigrant families had lived here in Canada for several hundred years. At least two generations of all of us "immigrants" had come before, or so it seemed. People nowadays are much more open about telling their true-to-life stories publicly than ever before. Little did we know, but many fled their homeland because of tyranny, political strife, famine and/or poverty.
From what I can tell, most immigrants are nothing if not preservers of their traditions and culture. In fact, the towns and surrounding communities get immersed in each other's ways, so not only their way, but ours, and their food, and ours.....and especially, did I say their food? So much so, many once unknown dishes to one culture have become staples to the others. I'm talking about dishes like perogies, borscht, and cabbage rolls for instance, borrowed from the Ukrainians. I can't speak for other provinces, but I expect the situation is similiar elsewhere in Canada.
About forty years ago, I knew a Ukrainian baba (grandmas) who would sell her homemade perogies for ridiculously cheap prices....like $2.00 for ten dozen. They were the good ones, the little ones...not those big fat ones with thick dough that some machine cranked out. This was dough rolled out to a sliver on a countertop by a lady, as strong as an ox. She had lovingly formed, filled and frozen the tasty potato and cheese morsels side by side on a tea towel covered cookie sheet then placed in the freezer. Once frozen, they were put into a clear plastic bag that was tied with a twist tie. All you had to do was pick them up and pay, then take them home to enjoy. So easy to prepare, simply drop into a boiling pot of water and wait for them to rise to the top. Drain, cover with melted butter and onions and add a dollop of sour cream. Presto! You had a feast fit for a king! Those same perogies today still aren't very expensive and are not too hard to get your hands on for special events like family gatherings, Easter, or Christmas.
Nowadays, it doesn't much matter where you go you will find someone who has some sort of different heritage than your own around here. Kokums (Cree grandmas) know how to make your mouth water with their bannock. These are similar to a biscuit and really tasty. I have had bannock several times, and once again, it is delicious and a relatively low cost cultural food.
In my family and many, many others, we made teeny, little dill pickles from the cucumbers in our gardens. We always had dozens of sealers full to add to any meal for most of the winter. It's only been the last few years that you could actually purchase them in a store. Beet pickles were another favorite that I noticed have shown up on store shelves within the last decade or so.
There are regularly planned galas to celebrate culture in many cities. In Saskatoon, every August there is a huge event held in multiple locations around the city to showcase the different cultures living here. They have feasts at each pavilion, dancing, singing, bands playing music, and of course food and drinking (and not just coffee and water :-). The events include displays of handiwork, arts, and crafts and every manner of dress that can show off a culture. Every time I go, I try to visit the pavilions of my own heritage - Norwegian, Scottish, and Irish. Plus, I like to attend others such as the Philippino, German, American, East Indian, Greek, and Jamaican....to name a few. The idea is to purchase a passport booklet and get it stamped at every place you stop to visit. There is always fun, cultural items to purchase and people absolutely flock to this annual event. It includes most everyone in the entire city and rural areas and many volunteers work extra hard to make it such a huge success. I went to the home page and found that 2014 will be their 35th year in Saskatoon. Check them out at www.saskatoonfolkfest.com.
I learned quite alot making my way around to the different pavilions over the years. The first year I ever went was with my Mom and Dad and we went to the Norwegian pavilion. It was in the Marion Graham high school and there were signs all over with the word "OOFTA". (Forgive me if I've told you this story before!) Now my grandpa is Norwegian and he would always say HOOFTA as an expression. As little kids, we took to using it too....just out of habit and being copy cats, of course. You know, monkey see, monkey do. I still find myself saying it! Little did I know that it really was an expression used widely by Norwegians. At that pavilion, we ate blotkake (a type of cake) and crumkake (a type of pastry)....both so melt-in-your-mouth as to die for. We had always had tastes of lefse (a type of soft-dough flat bread) growing up, but never cut up into these teeny little rolls buttered with brown sugar and cinnamon....(Actually, at home, we had generally eaten half the lathered bread at one sitting!)
I'll give you some of the highlights, but as you can imagine, there is always plenty more going on than this little blurb can tell.. At the Irish pavilion there was much drinking, dancing, singing and merriment. No fights... At the Scottish, a pipe and drum band was performing and they were serving hummus. At the Ukrainian, there was scrumptious food that without a word of a lie, 300 people were lined up to get. Traditional Ukrainian dancers lined the stage. At the German pavilion, there was sausage and music, at the Greek we got skewers of souvlaki, and they were oh so tasty!. The Philippinos had the most beautiful handiwork for sale, and I remember buying this massive lacy, crocheted pineapple-patterned table cloth... for next to nothing. I think I was over the top by the time I ate at the Jamaican pavilion because I started to get an upset stomach. Maybe I'm just not used to so much variety, let alone have a spicy palate. The American pavilion had popcorn and a Blues singer strumming away. Other years I have attended a variety, but overall, they are all a genuine feast for the senses. You go there with great expectations, run into all kinds of people you know or not, and leave with a full tummy and toes just a'tapping.
Democracy with freedom of speech and religion is a wonderful right that we hold dear in this part of the world. Many of us have days when we tend take these freedoms for granted, but for many others their new reality is far too precious to ever forget.
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