Today's lesson, boys & girls, is about Juniper berries.

The backstory: I have fresh venison in my house, which I'm not generally too fond of, and I've  always heard how juniper berries  make a fantastic flavor pairing with wild meat. For those who do not hunt, venison is not elk and moose, which I do like, venison is deer. And the difference  is like  night and day.

So I decided to forage for some berries. In the 30-odd years that I've been walking in the bush behind our house, I've noticed some huge and berry laden juniper bushes, and I've often wanted to try the berries in a recipe. So today was the day. A beautiful, crisp October day, no frost yet, and this is apparently the time to harvest. 

I'd like to say that I put on my earthy sandals, wore my alpaca poncho that I  picked up while trekking in Peru, and grabbed my Eco-friendly bag, which is woven with old, plastic grocery bags, and headed out into the wilderness to forage, like Euell Gibbons or Laura Engalls Wilder.

Yes, I'd like to say that, but the truth is somewhat different. I put on my Asics runners, outsourced by child labour in India no doubt, and grabbed a plastic ziplock freezer bag, not only "bad" plastic, but purchased at an American owned superstore. *sigh* We have to pick and choose our battles.

I did wear my poncho though. 

Let me tell you what I've learned about juniper berries. The berries take three years to ripen. And since new berries grow each year, one bush will have berries of various stages of ripeness side by side. The newest ones are a bit larger, and quite pale. The ones we want to pick are deep purpleish blue, and are a bit smaller. And they are further in the depths of the bush. Which normally wouldn't matter, but another thing I learned about juniper....the needles are in fact needles. Meaning they are ever so sharp and ever so willing to draw blood. The plumpest berries are alway just behind a protective pale berry and/or a deadly needle.

The needles look soft and inviting, like the misnamed "needles" of a tamarack tree that are soft and feel like cat fur if you brush them. Which I do, I love the tamarack in my yard and yes, I talk to it and stroke the soft branches. But anyhow, I digress.

Now, I was quite surprised at how few purple berries there were. I know that no one else picks them, at least not like people go and pick blueberries, by the bucketful, plus I was off the beaten path, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't at a bush where dogs have peed all over. I know deer don't eat them, nor bears. But, when I reached back into the depths of a prickly bush and plucked one berry, 37 more fell to the ground and vanished into the leaves and twigs. 

"Aha!" I said, "That's why there are so few, the ripe ones fall off at a gentle shake, at the kiss of the wind, at the breeze left by a passing bird or forest animal...I am so at one with nature."  so I figured I could lay my poncho underneath and shake the tree like an olive harvester. 

But apparently these bushes are alert to those tricks. You shake...and nothing happens. Well, all the dead needles fell out and embedded themselves into the fibers of my poncho so that now I need to spend the rest of the day picking sharp twigs and detritus out of my clothing,  But if you gently reach in to get one berry, the others all communicate  in silent berry language and release themselves to hide in the mulch. Who knew?

So I just carefully took my time, trying to not draw blood and was thankful that only 2 or 3 berries are needed for flavor in a marinade for poultry, and just a few more than that for the more powerful flavor of game. They can be used in place of rosemary, which was a helpful hint for me.

As I wandered deeper off the path, I found more bushes and as I came around one corner, I saw this giant:

The sun was hitting it, and I now know how Clark W Griswald felt when he saw the Christmas tree of his dreams. 

I didn't pick too many off of this one, but it was loaded with many, many berries of all shades. It should be prime picking for years. 

On my way home I gathered a few rosé hips as well, they're almost past their prime, but still not bad. One large rosé hip has an extreme amount of vitamin C....far more than an orange. Anywhere between 10 and 50 times more, one hip has more than your daily recommended allowance. I remove the seeds and slice the skin and toss it in a salad. Steven needs extra vitamin C because of his  Crohns and arthritis, and the citric acid in oranges is hard on his gut, but  who wants to buy supplements when you can get a better, healthier and 100% natural product for free?? The seeds are loaded with vitamin E, but they can irritate sensitive stomachs.

I also sometimes add one sliced rosé hip to each muffin, when I make muffins, that way a person gets their vitamin C while having a healthy treat.

But back to juniper:

Antimicrobial and Antifungal Properties

According to researchers at Shiraz University of Medical Sciences, juniper berry combats both gram-negative and gram-positive bacteria. Gram-negative bacteria are the cause for E. coli, pneumonia and gonorrhea, while gram-positive bacteria cause Staphylococcus aureus. S. aureus is a common infection that people acquire in hospitals and it is often resistant to antibiotics; you have probably heard it called MRSA. Since pharmaceuticals are often ineffective at treating MRSA, juniper berry could be an effective alternative to help combat infections.

Role as an Antioxidant

According to a study published in the medical journal "Pharmacognosy Research," juniper berries contain high amounts of antioxidants. These compounds help to neutralize free radicals in the body, which eventually lead to the development of diseases like cancer, arthritis and cardiovascular disease. Antioxidants also maintain healthy, youthful skin by fighting wrinkles and lines, aiding in cell regeneration and reducing inflammation.

Plus, much, much more. Google for yourself and then go out and pick a handful. Just don't ask me to tell you where my secret stash is.

I'd like say that I dried a few in the Kootenay sunlight on a hemp towel. And in fact, I can say that.

 

A few, final, fishy, tidbits.

The food was amazing. Remember when I said that we aren't breakfast eaters? Well, we aren't, but I certainly tried to force myself to indulge when the morning after the ham, eggs and pancakes there was a crab omelet. And the next day there was salmon quiche. And then there was eggs Benedict with tiny bits of dilled salmon in the sauce. And all the seafood was caught on this trip. 

I didn't take breakfast pictures, I'm not sure why, other than I was usually concerned with getting my caffeine fix.

Lunches were usually made from something freshly caught as well. A snapper wrap. A salmon roll. Some seafood chowder with homemade rosemary focaccia (and oddly enough, this was the only bread we saw this whole time. If I had any complaint, and I feel like a huge shit complaining at all, but just saying, if I had a complaint, it would be that some bread or buns would have been nice.) One day Darren made a giant  salad with nuts and seeds and cheeses and different greens and veggies and spices and an amazing dressing, and I really would have enjoyed a bun with it. 

 

Suppers were also something concocted from the days catch.

Crab and pork. I guess the pork was just in case the crab traps were empty. It was sitting on a mash of parsnip and potato. 

The presentation was always wonderful and very un-fishing-boat-like. It was heaven.

This is ling cod in phyllo pastry with couscous (omg....you know how I adore couscous....the food so nice they named it twice!) and kale. 

This is blackened snapper and polenta in...I hate to say tomato sauce because it was so much more than tomato sauce. 

And this is salmon and roasted julienned beets and carrots, also on couscous. (The food so nice I ate it twice.)

And even though the fellows raved about the food, there is no doubt in my mind that their salivary glands went into overtime at the sight of the final nights meal of prime rib and all the trimmings. I gotta say, I was ready for some iron-laden red meat myself. Along with the wine from their organic vineyards, it was a real treat. I might or might not have gone for seconds.

 

And we can't forget dessert. 

A berry compote.

The infamous molton lava chocolate cake with ice cream.

A lemony custard thing, with blueberries that I forgot to take a picture of:

And a raspberry sort of mousse/cheesecake that I also forgot to take a picture of, but it resembled this:

And there was a never-ending pot of Tim Hortons coffee, with all the Baileys one could want, as well as a never ending supply of wine, which was organic. Reds and whites.

To not have to cook a single meal was one of the best parts for me. 

To not have to clean a single fish was one of the best parts for Steven.

Charles took care of all the cleaning, filleting, cryovac-ing and freezing. When we got off the boat, our fish was literally packed, frozen and ready to go.

Salmon for supper.

Getting it all sealed up. Actually, this is Stan, the Gorton Fisherman, called such because he was out fishing in his yellow slicker, rain or shine, for as many hours as he could. He stood on the precarious front deck, with "the stance" and fished and fished and fished.

Besides all the eating and fishing and eating and fishing I found some time (lots of time actually) to sneak away and just sit and enjoy the ocean. And a book. And maybe enjoy a glass of wine. Or seven.

And to enjoy the scenery....we really do live in one of the most beautiful places in the entire world.

Steven and Tony going for the  day on the little boat. 

I like the way the swirl of water looks so smooth in this.

Steven and Tony again, going in the little boat. I was so happy with this picture, it reminds me of a fantasy fairy tale....or heaven or something. Just mystical and soothing. Like the Robin Williams movie about the afterlife.

And this picture is my absolute favorite. To me, it looks like molten gold and I find it mesmerizing. I got a copy enlarged and I just love to stare at it.. No talent, just luck and Mother Nature.

We also saw lots of wildlife. Porpoises...impossible to get pictures of. Whales, both killer and humpback....almost impossible to get photos of. They'd be gone long before I was focused, but we did see one breech...and that was an "Ooooooh!" moment, I've never seen that before, and I think my jaw literally hung open. It was magnificent.

This fellow hung around for quite a while...he'd come up and down like this, but no jumping. But that was ok, this was still a phenomenal sight.

A flip of his tail as he vanished.

An early morning, misty sight.,

Regal but stinky. And loud!

Even the little coves and islands had sights to see.

By the way, this is where we were. Kitimat is a bit above the red mark. We went down the Douglas Channel to the ocean.

This island is Campania Island, we went past that and then, alas, at the end of the week we turned around and went back.

Good bye, beautiful islands.

Goodbye little threesome of boats.

Hello Jasper, Columbia Icefields, Yoho, Banff and Kootenay National Parks. Hello most amazing Storm Mountain Lodge hidden in the middle nowhere...home of romantic cabins and the sweetest restaurant...home of bison burgers and halibut crab cakes and a $12 pear (well, I mean, it was stuffed with ice wine, honey, chèvre, bee pollen and a balsamic glaze.) 

This place was built to attract tourists in the 1920's and we're still arriving. It is spectacular!

My cup runneth over. Are we there yet?

We interrupt this fishing story for a news flash.

I complain so much that I sometimes embarrass my own self. So I need to tell a positive story...not only that, but it's a positive TELUS story, and if that ain't enough to knock your socks off, it's a positive Telus OUTSOURCE story. Yes!

So, remember a week or so ago when Telus accidentally did something to our phone lines and none of the various departments would admit it was them? And I had no phone and Internet for days? And I finally got it fixed, but it was a horrendous  experience? And I complained loudly and endlessly to anyone who would listen? Well, this concerns that.

I decided to watch a Netflix movie the other night and when I tried to access Netflix from our new smart TV with the magic remote (ok...I know I don't do technology well, and yes, I believe that  TV and cell phones are genuine magic, along with Skype and microwave ovens, but this remote is really a magic remote)

Anyhow, the smart TV just kept telling me that there was no connection. I checked my phones again...working. I checked my computer and my iPad....working. Hmmmm. I don't get it. I tried turning things off and on, and I even tried getting Netflix on the iPad, and it worked, and I have to backtrack a minute here: When we first got the smart TV and the fellow set up Netflix, I was so pleased at finally being able to watch movies on the TV as opposed to just using the iPad, and when I later looked at Netflix on my iPad, I saw that a button had appeared that said "Watch on LG TV"! Whaaaaaat?  The wireless airwaves had discovered all by themselves to hook up with each other and tell me via new buttons appearing.  I can be watching a movie on the ipad and if i click on that button, the movie appears on the TV. And people say it isn't magic.....come on. People call this magic "synching", but I have no more room in my brain for new technological terms. Magic it is.

Anyhow, the magic wasn't there today. No button on my iPad and no Netflix on my smart TV. 

I phoned Telus and explained about the issue we had had the prior week, and that The Guy had forgotten to fix my TV. The fellow I was talking to said that The Guy doesn't set up the TV, that The TV Guy From The Store does that.  "But no," I said "He did that already. And then you guys lost my signals and The Guy came and fixed the computer and the phone, and now I need him to come back and fix my TV. My TV says there is no connection, so you need to send The Guy to connect me. Please." 

I think I heard rolling of eyes, all the way from India:

but he explained to me that somewhere in the TV menu there was a place to reconnect the wifi. And, he said, just go Settings  and do it. I sadly whined that I didn't know where anything was. He kindly talked me through all sorts of menus (I hate a TV that is smarter than me.) and eventually we found the place that said "Network Connections" It was like a gift from the TV gods! The network name was there, but it asked me my password. Once again I need to go back to last week.

When The Guy fixed stuff, he also gave us a new modem, and a new network name and password. The Guy read the password to me as I typed it into my iPad, and it was 4 or 5 hundred numbers long, along with a few dozen letters. I asked him if I could change the password to something easier, like "3" and he basically said there was no need, once I was set up I'd never need to enter it again, it was stuck there. (He didn't actually say "stuck there", but I know that's what he meant. I'm starting to catch on to the lingo.) He said that if someone  came over with their device, they'd need that password, so he gave me a card with it written on and said that if I lost the card, it was also on a sticker on the modem.

So, back to my India fellow. I told him that I didn't know the password, but I knew where it was, so I ran downstairs to grab the card, and it was gone. Faaaak. Where did I put it? I quickly flung things around and it wasn't there. It wasnt anywhere. I ran back up stairs to apologize to him, and told him I'd find it later, and finish the chore myself. He kindly told me he'd wait, and to take my time.

"Oh!" I cried with happy memory, "Oh! It's on the modem too, hang on, I'll grab a pencil and  paper and run back down." 

"No rush" he said.

I ran down, looked at the modem and of course it was printed in tiny letters that only the very young and eagles could see.

I ran back up and explained that I needed a magnifying glass and I'd be right back.

"Take your time" he said.

I ran back down, and even with the magnifying glass the letters were hard to read "Is that a b or a 6? Is that a f or an 8? Curses to my faulty eye genes!" 

When I figured that I had it correct, I ran back upstairs and breathlessly announced that I was ready to type in the number.

Ahmad was as excited as I was. We were pretty good friends by this point.

I typed the numbers in, all 400 of them and hit the "enter" button. Except I hit the wrong one. So I tried it again...and in my haste, I hit the wrong enter button again! The cursor was delicate and moved to random numbers with the slightest movement of my hands. It's was like doing surgery.

I think I may have done this once or twice more until Ahmad gently explained that maybe I was hitting the enter button on the magic remote and not the enter button on the TV screen? We laughed gaily at my silliness. 

So we tried once more, Ahmed and I, and glory be....the Netflix logo appeared!

"Hooray!" I cried "We did it! Thank God...or, thank Hephaestus, who is the closest thing in Greco-roman mythology to a god of technology." (You ain't got nuthin' on me, Smart TV.)

"Caloo-Calay!" cried Ahmed. "Thanks be to Rudra, who is the closest we have to a god of technology, and also is the god of  the Destroyer of Creation (which this technology is causing, I think, and so does Ahmed. We are like two peas in a pod, Ahmed and me. Or like two threads of saffron in a crocus flower.

So we discussed "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel"and "The 100 Foot Journey." and made plans to exchange curry recipes.

Who'd ever complain about Telus and outsourcing? Not me!