Sockeye

Mrs S and I have taken advantage of the current glut of Sockeye Salmon by stocking up the freezer. The "Fish farms are bad" lobby has temporarily been silenced. This massive run after several lean years has shouted that perhaps the issue is more complex than mere campaigners would have us believe. Questions are being asked about how vociferous advocacy groups have been allowed to sway fisheries policy.

Regardless of that; one of the things I noticed last night when serving a plateful for supper was the difference between a Coho or Pink, or even Russian Sockeye and the local stuff. It's like the difference between cotton and silk. Cotton is fine, but silk is wonderful, and fresh Sockeye has an almost silken texture as well as a richer, rounder flavour.

When I was a boy, canned red salmon sandwiches were a favourite treat for Sunday tea, dressed with malt vinegar and black pepper. When I could buy up a few cans I would, especially when there was a deal in the supermarket. Yet the canned stuff is a mere shadow of the fresh or smoked alternatives. Now I'm learning the difference between Salmon farmed and wild, fresh and frozen, and the textures and flavours are like a musical scale. Each having their own high points. Yet across the scale, fresh BC Sockeye Salmon beats them all.

How fragile we are

Got into a minor spat over the impact mankind has on the planet over on James Delingpoles blog this morning. I made the comment that if Mankind were to disappear tomorrow, you'd be hard pushed to find we'd been here within five decades. All right, at the time I was indulging in a little hyperbole. Fifty years does sound a bit too close to home. Then again I thought about it and plundered the archives of my memory and my recollection of old derelict buildings, and thought; "Hold on. Maybe the fifty years figure isn't all that far off."

My family have been in property for generations, so I was brought up learning about the importance of regular property maintenance. External painting kept the pests and leaks out. Clearing the gutters every fall (Autumn) kept damp off the walls. Checking the roof for loose tiles ensures no nasty damp patches indoors. Regular small bits of gardening kept the weeds and pests at bay, and thus out of the house.

Neglect the aforementioned for more than five years and the pests get in. Wasps and other creepy crawlies invade. Small pests follow bringing seeds and spores indoors. Woodwork gets infected, and only hard aged oak can tolerate woodworm for more than five years. Tiles are shifted by storms, letting rain into the roof void, wet or dry Rot sets in and begins to eat joists and floors within five or ten years. By the time ten years have passed, you'll have a lexicon of property woes to write a book about. Another ten and the likelihood is the rot will be in the walls and floors. Another five and there will be holes everywhere. Another five and the floors and ceilings will in all probability be gone. Window frames will be glassless because the sealant has dried and fallen out. Damp will be in the walls, which will begin to sag. The whole building will be weed ridden and sagging. Forty years and collapse becomes likely. By the time forty five years is up, the neglected property is an overgrown heap of wood and bricks. Fifty years and times up. What house? A row of neglected properties will go even faster. Storm and fire can ravage even brickwork and leave nothing more than hummocks of rubble. A summer lightning storm setting fire to a tree will catch on to uncleared underbrush and then the entire neighbourhood can go up in smoke, and the number of lightning started woodland fires, even in well managed places like the UK is surprising. The result is the same. To expect a house to remain untrammelled after fifty years is pure wishful thinking.

Even in relatively temperate climates the erosive power of nature is quite staggering, especially if left unfixed. Where storms abound, like in the South East and central USA whole suburbs can still be wiped off the map, property maintenance or no. A 'Pineapple Express' or one of the regular Winter storms up here on the Island can pry a couple of shingles loose to let the elements in and begin the time lapse of decay. Tout passe, tout lasse, tout casse.

So if mankind did disappear, the natural process of rot and erosion would be as devastating to man made structures as a major Earthquake, Storm or Tsunami. Our legacy would be mere archaeology before fifty years was out. For all mankinds achievements, it just goes to show that we will always be running to catch up against the natural world.

New export opportunity

Now locally we appear to have a problem. Currently there is a glut of Deer in the province. Particularly in suburban areas where the 'Ah, aren't they sweet' mentality holds sway (Thank you Walt Disney - you bastard). My neighbours invest in deer proof fencing to keep the little tinkers out and off their prize begonias whatever, but I've seen a six point buck clear a four foot wire fence in our front yard recently (See photo). That fence is four and a half feet high minimum, but after a short pause to check the distance, the buck was over it without so much as a sneeze. The Deer population in urban areas is becoming a problem with 'calls for action' and other half hearted rhetoric. Now the Deer are asserting themselves in urban areas and occasionally chasing bewildered dogwalkers down the streets, which has me chuckling. Members of Earth's top predator species being chased by herbivores? Oh my.

As a connected aside; here on Vancouver Island people often raise the concern that we are not 'self sufficient' in food, yet we have a glut of an unmanaged food animal? A partial solution is obvious. Give licences for the limited collection (not shooting, safety first) of wayward urban Deer within city limits to interested companies and sell it like the New Zealanders market and sell Lamb. Maybe with a 'BC Organic' label. Manages the Deer population to manageable proportions and provides a local food source. Low cost, eco-friendly and good economic use of a resource currently in oversupply. I mean, what's not to like?

Venison is a premium meat. It is very healthy with low cholesterol and trans fats. It has a strong flavour, good texture and can be barbecued, broiled (Grilled), roasted, sautéed, stewed and stir fried. Even turned into sausages or burgers. In all of these forms it is very salubrious and deserving of a 'health food' label.

Now I know venison is wild meat, and therefore prone to all the assorted ickyness congruent with being unmanaged livestock; worms, ticks, Lyme Disease etc but those can be dealt with using gamma irradiation (no it doesn't make food 'radioactive') and freezer technology to kill the infestations Deer are often host to. Oh, and cooking food properly is always a good idea.

Having eaten venison with both relish and gusto in more affluent days (pre 2004) I know it is also delicious. Haven't tasted any in a while, although I'm sure one of my hunting neighbours has some in his freezer. Must work out some local barter; I fix his PC for a haunch of the good stuff. Cook, and put out an invitation to the neighbours for a barbecue party.

Anyone for venison?

An interesting idea

On how to manage fish stocks and begin to put an end to overfishing.

Enlightened self interest solves a potential crisis? Who'd ha' thunk it?

A problem Deer to this locality

Angry letters have been exchanged in the pages of the local press. Well, as angry as Canadians ever become without resorting to firearms. The cause? One population which seems to be thumbing it's metaphorical nose at extinction scares, to wit; the local Black Tailed Deer.

As you can see, they're quite unabashed by the local human population, and seem to be thriving despite calls for a cull from local gardeners outraged at these saucy even toed ungulates munching their way through the tulips every spring.

These pictures, and a few more besides, were taken around 3:30 Pacific Standard Time in suburban North Nanaimo. The week before, a similar family grouping held up traffic on a main route just off the Island highway. Only one driver sounded his horn at them, the rest simply stopped and waited while the buck and three hinds of the group sauntered from one grazing spot to the other.

Me? I don't mind one way or the other. But it's nice to know if everything does go pear shaped economically as some of the prophets of doom would have us think, there's a ready supply of fresh meat within easy reach. Hey, not only that, it's organic.