Text 28208, 104 rader
Skriven 2009-09-03 04:34:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: YK 114
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It was deemed important I give a visit to the Gold Range,
the local rough bar, apparently famous for spectacular
fights, customers passed out in a pool of their own urine,
and the like: I guess if you don't have a concert hall, you
have to get your entertainment somehow. We had been thinking
of taking a Friday night field trip, but I was too tired and
postponed the project until the next day; so we stopped by
an hour after opening. At this time, it's a sad-toned place,
degenerate but sort of innocent, the clientele a handful of
unhappy-looking native people, plus us, of course. We had a
couple beers and then out of there. There was to be a jam
session in the afternoon, but somehow we failed to return.

As I didn't know inconnu, we headed to Archie's boat to see
what we could see. As you know, Archie's wife Nancy passed
away a couple of years ago, and as a result, he's had to hire
lots of help and double his prices. There was a new boat
parked there, and Jim said that he didn't want to patronize
someone else, so we went away. But something made him decide
to check out the situation fresh, so we circled back there
and discovered that in fact Archie has a new boat. No inconnu
in the catch of the day - only whitefish and lake trout;
Archie said that most people don't like inconnu, as it is
coarse and muddy-tasting, so he doesn't go out of his way to
find them but could get some with a little notice. Should have
put in an order early, I suppose, but live and learn. We got a
bag that contained half a big trout, 2 1/2 to 3 lb, $15. Not
cheap, but the fish as certainly fresh.

Instead of returning to the Gold Range, Roslind suggested that
they show us the upscale end, so we ended at Twist, the bar that
belongs to Fuego, one of the fancier restaurants in town. Drinks
here were a buck or three more than at the Gold Range, but we
were in no danger of having a chair broken over our head or
being splashed with second-hand blood. A round of drinks -
Guinness for me, Spanish coffee for Roslind, and a G&T for
Jim - and dessert. Chocolate panna cotta was extremely gooey
and sweet, I think an unfair representation of the genre; a
chocolate cake was more balanced but tasted a little like
refrigerator. On the whole, okay, not more.

Dinner back home. Ray and Neekha came by around 7:30; Jim fired
up the grill, and I went to town.

I cooked up the turr (murre, auk, guillemot) breasts medium,
being afraid to do them rare the way I'd have liked. Sliced them
up, and guess what? They were not bad at all. Tasted rather like
duck with a faint fish oil aftertaste. Part of it must have been 
Jim's Asian-style marinade, but a great part was that he had
skinned them and cut off all fat prior to cooking, preventing the
oil from cooking into the meat. He called Tommy up and reported
the success.

Ray, Neekha, and her friend Remy eventually showed up for dinner.

I did the trout, marinated in soy, ginger, and scallion, skin
side down on the griddle, until the flesh was just opaque. This
was a good fish. Thank you, Archie. Interesting: I am used to
scaling fish, but the scales were so fine that Jim said that
they never bothered. His term "microscopic" was a bit of an
exaggeration, but in fact after being grilled crisp, the skin
didn't suffer at all for being a little scaly.

Finally those steaks - I was tasked with cooking two with four
desired degrees of doneness: bleu for me, rare for Weller,
medium-rare for Ray, and medium for the women. Procedure:
six (!) minutes on a side, then carve off the tenderloins,
take one of the sirloins + bone off; cook the other sirloin
another five or so; take it off; then leave the filets to steam
another five or more with the heat off. The result: slightly
more done than usual, but acceptable, for me; slightly less done
than usual, but acceptable, for everyone else.

Roslind made potato salad, which was good but had sour cream in
the dressing, so I had a few grams of it only.

Peter Lehmann Clancy's 05 (at least half Shiraz, blended with
Cabernet, Cab Franc, and Merlot in varying proportions in
different years) went fairly well with the turrs and quite well
with the steaks.

Afterward, Jim went out for a smoke and reported back that the
aurora was in good form; he suggested we go out of town and take
a better look. Well, he said "I'm game if anyone else is," and
both Roslind and I were happy to go. He took us to the boat
launch at the Yellowknife River about five miles out of town,
where the only light pollution was from the headlights of the
cars that went past every five minutes or so. It was an amazing
panorama of dancing and shifting lights, nicer than I've ever
seen before. I was given to know that it gets even better in the
wintertime. And so back to the house for nightcaps and happy talk.

Well, as it was way in the wee hours, I went in the direction of
bed, but shortly Jim rapped on my door and said, it's starting again,
so out I went, to see a once-in-a-lifetime vision of dancing lights -
even better than what we'd seen before. Next morning, Jim opined that
he got to see this every night in season, but it was probably a big
thing for me (true). I eventually staggered to bed but rose at dawn,
as is my current wont.


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