Well, I've never come across the entire recipe (nor have I tried):
I felt sorry for Jack, truly sorry. I well remembered my own first visit to the fish store (Newfoundland outhouse on the dock) when, perched precariously between wind and water, and surrounded by the pungent tubs of codfish soaking in brine, I had injudiciously looked down to behold a consortium of flatfish, sculpins, crabs, and eels staring hopefully up at me out of the shallows.
Traumatic as the experience must have been, Jack managed to rise above it. But he nearly collapsed when the smell of breakfast struck him. He is a gourmet and a delicate eater. Furthermore he has a weak stomach.
He clutched my arm so hard it hurt and whispered hoarsely in my ear.
"What in God's name is that?"
"That," I explained cheerfully, "is Newfoundland's national dish. A special treat for visitors. It's called fish-and-brewis."
"Never mind the name. What's IN it?"
"Well, basically it's a mixture. You take hard bread or ship's biscuits and soak them all night to make them soft and to get rid of the weevils. And you take some shore-dried salt fish and soak IT all night, "watering it" is the term. Then you boil the fish and the hard bread and when it's all nice and mushy you pour a cup of spitting hot sowbelly fat over it, and then ..."
I never finished my explanation. Jack was already on his way back to visit the sculpins and the eels.
From The Boat Who Wouldn't Float, by Farley Mowat.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Oh, Canada!
Date: 2003-12-25 07:32 pm (UTC)I felt sorry for Jack, truly sorry. I well remembered my own first visit to the fish store (Newfoundland outhouse on the dock) when, perched precariously between wind and water, and surrounded by the pungent tubs of codfish soaking in brine, I had injudiciously looked down to behold a consortium of flatfish, sculpins, crabs, and eels staring hopefully up at me out of the shallows.
Traumatic as the experience must have been, Jack managed to rise above it. But he nearly collapsed when the smell of breakfast struck him. He is a gourmet and a delicate eater. Furthermore he has a weak stomach.
He clutched my arm so hard it hurt and whispered hoarsely in my ear.
"What in God's name is that?"
"That," I explained cheerfully, "is Newfoundland's national dish. A special treat for visitors. It's called fish-and-brewis."
"Never mind the name. What's IN it?"
"Well, basically it's a mixture. You take hard bread or ship's biscuits and soak them all night to make them soft and to get rid of the weevils. And you take some shore-dried salt fish and soak IT all night, "watering it" is the term. Then you boil the fish and the hard bread and when it's all nice and mushy you pour a cup of spitting hot sowbelly fat over it, and then ..."
I never finished my explanation. Jack was already on his way back to visit the sculpins and the eels.
From The Boat Who Wouldn't Float, by Farley Mowat.