Tag: food

The Grand Finale

Our curling season is done. And so are we.

Peter and I debated about whether to register for the Grand Mixed Bonspiel at our curling club. It was the last big event of the season, and the 50th anniversary of this particular event. Our weekend was free of other obligations. Plus, the big prize was a pair of red Muskoka chairs that would be perfect for our back yard. Why not sign up?

Because we are old, that’s why not! Playing 3 games in less than 24 hours is hard work. First you throw these big heavy rocks down the ice. And when you’re not doing that, you’re sweeping. Not like sweeping the kitchen floor – this is really Sweeping! And your boss is yelling “Hard, Harder, HARDER!!!”

We signed up anyway. How foolish is that? We would find out.

The first time that we felt we might have made a mistake was when we learned that we had been placed on 2 different draw times. Peter’s Friday game was at 7:30 pm, but mine was at 9:30 pm. This meant that I would be going to bed well past midnight, and Peter would have to sleep in a chair at the club waiting for me. Or I would have to drive home by myself in the dark. Both options were bad.

After we got that sorted out, we played our 7:30 Friday game, followed by drinks and chips – lots of chips. This was not going to be a healthy-eating weekend. On Saturday morning breakfast was served: doughnuts, muffins and coffee cake, with lots of coffee to drink. This meant a delay in the middle of the morning game while 7 curlers stood around waiting for me to go to the bathroom. How embarrassing.

Lunch was good: wraps with veggies on the side, along with more chips and cookies and alcohol. After that, Peter and I were ready for our afternoon naps. We searched around the club for some couches, but there weren’t even any comfy chairs. We tried out the prize Muskoka chairs and they were fine to sit in but, just as we nodded off, we heard he announcement that our afternoon game was about to begin. Slowly we lurched out of the chairs and shuffled our way onto the ice.

By the end of the afternoon game we were toast. But NO! Now we had to get changed into our sparkly clothes for the 50th Anniversary Celebration! Except Peter has no sparkly clothes and mine no longer fit. We put on non-curling pants and jackets and I stole a gold flower from one of the table decorations and attached it to my top. We were all set.

Next we were encouraged to participate in the raffle so, in support of the club, we bought 50 tickets and headed to the prize table. There were no useful items like heating pads, or pill boxes, or a visit to a podiatrist, so we ended up stuffing the tickets into bottles of exotic spirits, or tickets to more curling events; kind of hoping we wouldn’t win.

After we had used up all our tickets, we were served more chips and more drinks, while we waited for the dinner to begin. The food was delicious but it took a while to serve all 120 of us. The main course was followed by speeches thanking all the volunteers, and drawing for the prizes. Peter and I won nothing. By this time we had our elbows on the table, propping up our heads.

Then the host announced that dessert would be served; celebration cake with 2-inch thick icing. And the evening would continue with – dancing! We did manage to stuff down some cake but our old bodies were not up for dancing to “I will Survive” or rounds of “YMCA!”

It had been a great curling season with plenty of exercise and socializing, and a fun bonspiel to finish off. But it definitely was time for us to put away our brooms and go home. We need time to rest up for next year.

Sue

A Grand Sausage

High Park Club, where we curl on Friday nights, owes its existence to the Scottish game. Last Friday, when we visited, we took part in another Scottish tradition; Address To the Haggis.

The reading of this poem, by the famous Scottish poet, Robbie Burns, is the cornerstone of the celebration of Burns’ birthday, January 25, 1759. Burns was the son of tenant farmers and grew up living with poverty, hardship and manual labour. He had no formal schooling, but he taught himself the English language, well actually, the Scottish dialect. And the result was lyrics that are fondly remembered over 250 years later.

Many of us sang one of his best-known pieces, Auld Lang Syne, on New Year’s Eve. As young children, we may have heard parts of his Ode To A Mouse, a tribute to the small animals sharing his farmland.

The writing we recall on Burns’ birthday is his dedication to the haggis, intended to be read by someone, preferably of Scottish descent, as he or she escorts the mighty sausage to the buffet table. A bagpiper leads the procession:

“Good luck to you and your honest plump face, Great Chieftan of the sausage race!

Above them all you take your place. Well are you worthy of a grace!”*

*Then a wee dram of fine Scotch is used to toast the haggis.

The poem goes on to name the ingredients of the haggis, which might put you off your breakfast, so I’ll just say that they are chopped up and mixed with onions and spices, the more the better, and then stutffed inside the casing of a sheep’s stomach. Food was scarce in Burns’ life and no part of the animal was wasted. The haggis is often served with potatoes, turnips and cabbage, which help to mellow the taste. It is all very filling.

Besides his stomach, Burns filled his life with food for his brain. He wrote songs, learned some French and Latin, and eventually published a volume of poetry that was admired by farmers and literary critics alike. He worked hard to acquire the nuances of poetry writing. During his short life, (he died at age 37), he wrote so much popular verse that he was considered the patron poet of Scotland.

Burns also socialized a lot. He had numerous friends who met at local pubs and sang together. And he had a lot of female relationships including 3 marriages and several affairs. The result was 12 children. Burns’ biographers estimate that he has about 900 living relatives in the 21st. century. He certainly put that sausage, I mean haggis, to good use.

Sources say that Burns’ most famous living relative is Tommy Hilfiger. Tommy is the great, great, great nephew of the poet. Apparently Tommy does not publicize this kinship. In addition, there are monuments to Burns around the world. The closest one, should you wish to visit, is in Allen gardens in downtown Toronto. And you can find a haggis recipe online.

Sue

Monument in Toronto