MukTuk and The Toronto Symphony (in Inuvik)

Inuvik, North West Territories must have seemed the last bastion of wilderness remaining in Canada. Anyone who was anyone wanted to visit; royalty, prime ministers past and present, artists, writers and musicians all came to Inuvik, "Land of the Midnight Sun".

One year the Toronto Symphony came to town. They performed at local schools and auditoriums, did their best to experience the authentic north and a lucky few even managed to try the "blanket toss".

Before they climbed on board their plane to return to Toronto, the local people wanted to show their hospitality by sharing the bounty of the north with a somewhat traditional feast.

The menu featured such delicacies as arctic char, muscox, reindeer, caribou, moose meat and bannock. However, it was two other dishes from the menu that stand out in my mind. A friend of mine was a young head chef of the hotel where the dinner was to be held. He enlisted my help as I had been in the north longer and was perhaps a bit more familiar with local fare.

No traditional meal from the coastal region would be complete without muktuk or whale meat. Muktuk in its raw form has a thick blanket of white, rubbery fat covering the rather thin layer of meat. Traditionally the fat would have been eaten to help the human body fend off the cold. In these more modern times, some are reluctant to indulge in this aspect of the delicacy. So, we trimmed off most of the fat and proceeded to boil the muktuk untill it was tender. I cannot begin to describe the smell of cooking muktuk. No offense intended to the Inuit, but it is very nasty-smelling stuff. Served in chilled, thin slices it appeared quite innocuous looking.

To go along with the caribou, muscox and other wild meats I went to the bush and gathered wild cranberries. I had intended them as a garnish, cooked only slightly with sugar to give them a high sheen. They were actually extremely bitter.

The feast was laid out buffet-style with small signs indicating the contents of each dish. The wise locals barely touched the cranberries or muktuk but our brave Toronto Symphony were undaunted by bitterness or strong smell. They ate with gusto and relish and expressed their delight with everything.

I can only imagine what it must have been like on the long flight to Toronto with limited bathroom facilities.

Note: The Symphony continued their relationship with the people of Inuvik supporting the youth with musical instruments and teaching.

"THERE'S A BEAR IN MY KITCHEN"

One of the cooking jobs I had early in my career was at a place called Sheep Creek, located in Northern Yukon National Park, Canada. At one time there had been a small gold mining operation on the creek which flowed  into the Firth River. You could still find the remains of sluicing troughs and if you had a bit of patience you might find a bit of gold dust remaining in the creek. At some point the miners fled perhaps for easier pickings and left behind a scary but usable air-strip and the remains of a crash just to give you something to think about when you flew in rolling toward the edge of the cliff hoping the plane, a twin engine otter, would stop in time. The whole Firth River Valley was a very beautiful, uninhabited place of rolling hills, low mountains and a glacier-fed river and creek.

Not far from the Alaskan border, there was a poaching problem with hunters flying in and killing wolves etc. from the air. There was also a medium sized dall sheep flock living in the hills and mountains that warranted protection. The Canadian Parks Service decided to build a park headquarters to deter the poaching and establish a visible presence in the area.

This was a remote, fly-in location with just a couple of trailers, one of which served as the camp kitchen and general hang-out. My job was to cook for a small construction and helicopter crew, usually not more than 6 to 8 guys. The coffee pot was always on and it didn't take long, however, for word to spread that the food and hospitality was good and it was a great opportunity to escape from telephones, faxes,etc. This was before our current range of never-to-be-out-of-touch-technology. We also had a few visitors who were enjoying the white water rafting experience on the Firth River and at one point a CBC film crew filming a show for David Suzuki. Even though we were quite remote with only a two-way radio for communication with the town office, it was never dull. If we lacked for visitors we were usually able to round up enough players for a good game of cards in the evening. I personally enjoyed going for walks in the evening although much mosquito protection was needed.

The summer was very enjoyable and when I prepared the camp kitchen for the winter, I washed walls, and every available surface well in an attempt to remove any lingering food odors. We closed up camp and did not return until late the following spring.

It was immediately obvious that we had company in early spring. The smallish window that was located above the stove was crashed in, the remains of the frame bent and twisted.  Upon entering the trailer we discovered a rather large dent in the top of the stove. The remains of a bottle of mazzola oil was tipped on its side. When we went outside we were able to follow a trail of both bear scat and bits of a plastic bowl that had obviously retained food odors. I still have a rather clear picture imagining the bear strolling along the river bank perhaps unhappy at such meager pickings to satisfy his growing hunger after a winter of fasting. The local grizzly had come to call.

We were fortunate. Usually when a bear gets into a cabin or cottage they do not necessarily use the same entrance as an exit. They are also well-known for being quite destructive while inside. This one just drank the cooking oil and left. I think it was probably a pretty good cleanse after the long winter.

We were fortunate to often the see the big grizzlies although they rarely came near the camp when we were present. We were always careful with garbage, food preparation and storage so as not to attract them. They were likely as happy to avoid us as we were them.

Note: One of the delicacies of this region was fresh-caught Arctic Char. Char is similar to salmon with perhaps a milder taste depending on the size. We particularly enjoyed it stuffed, wrapped in foil and barbequed.
 

Reindeer Round-up, Tuk, N.W.T

One of the first places I cooked for a bunch of people was at the annual reindeer round-up near Tuktoyaktuk, North West Territories. Every June the Nasogaluak family who owned the reindeer herd at that time, would bring in a crew to an old abandoned dew line station on the Beaufort Sea east of Tuktoyaktyuk. The area is Arctic tundra at its finest, no trees but hills and hummocks that could turn an ankle with ease. Later, in June this same barren, muddy tundra would be covered with paintbox coloured flowers with names I did not know.

 For the  2 weeks the crew with the important assistance of helicopter and 3 wheelers would round up about 10,000 reindeer and bring them into a series of corrals to cut off their horns. The horns would be shipped fresh to primarily Asian countries where they were used medicinally.

 My job was to cook for a crew of about 25 to 40 people who pretty much worked around the clock when the reindeer were in the pens. The old dew line base was a primitive facility with  no running water or electricity. I had only a small stove whose oven door would not close properly and a coleman camp cooker.

It was here that I learned to make dried meat, reindeer stew and perfected my bannock making. The crew did not want or expect fancy food, just large quantities of hot, filling fare and endless pots of coffee and tea. What a blast it was!!

There is nothing like the site of several thousand reindeer coming toward you over the tundra.