Salsa Celtica are a Scottish musical group framed for playing (and possibly inventing) a form of music which is a fusion of salsa beats and scottish melodies played on a mixture of traditional salsa (drums, guitar, keyboard, brass) and Celtic (fiddle, tin whistle, banjo) instruments. What it actually results in is one evening of great fun and funky sound...in Dunblane of all places.
This surprised me as I don't remember many fun and funky nights out in Dunblane although a few of them remember me as former teachers and pupils from school recognised me during the evening and said hello. And it was fun and funk Dunblane-style...so most were on the other side of 50. But the music! THAT was incredible.
Once we'd got over 'oo, is that so and so from the year above/below us?' type chit-chat, we got up to dance and found ourselves naturally slipping between improvised salsa, samba and believe it or not, ceilidh-dancing funky moves. It sounds impossible but oh I saw it with my own eyes. And it was good.
www.salsaceltica.com
I hae me doots
I know there is not much difference between a salmon fillet and a trout fillet...to the untrained eye, and while working with them is one thing, munching the slippery things is something else entirely...I know where they've been after all. But my fresh-off-the-boat haddock from 2 weeks ago has inspired me to give the (wild-caught) things a culinary go again, and so I found myself at the deli-counter of the local supermarket. This in itself is slightly ironic as I'd just had a chat earlier that day with a Master Fishmonger who was lamenting the rubbish quality of fish found in supermarkets and their dodgy gutting techniques amongst other things. But there is no fish van around these parts, and the deli-counter it was. I chose some trout - Scottish, wild, mild - but even as I said the words and pointed to what I wanted, I thought to myself 'dang it (a southern drawl adds a certain something I find), that there trout looks AWFULLY like Salmon'. And we all know my aversion to salmon...especially the cheap farmed kind. But, you know, mine is not a trained eye like the fishmonger behind the deli-counter, and when he also picked it up and stuck the 'trout' ticket on it, I shrugged off my suspicions.
Well, wouldn't you know, I got it home, opened the pack, lifted it out and was becoming increasingly convinced I was now holding a very dyed-pink, pellet-fed farmed salmon, pretty much confirmed by the skin on the underside. Now rainbow-ness to be found anywhere. Just bright, shiny silver salmon hide. I cooked it anyway of course and as the thing went pinker and pinker I was still a bit annoyed at the poor old guy on the deli-counter (who probably isn't a fishmonger at all in the truest sense) and even more annoyed that I hadn't trusted my instincts and double-checked. But supermarkets these days tend to rarely get it wrong for both moral and legal reasons. So I can't be entirely sure it was them. Maybe "trolmons" are the way of the future? Hmm, now that does sound appetising.
Well, wouldn't you know, I got it home, opened the pack, lifted it out and was becoming increasingly convinced I was now holding a very dyed-pink, pellet-fed farmed salmon, pretty much confirmed by the skin on the underside. Now rainbow-ness to be found anywhere. Just bright, shiny silver salmon hide. I cooked it anyway of course and as the thing went pinker and pinker I was still a bit annoyed at the poor old guy on the deli-counter (who probably isn't a fishmonger at all in the truest sense) and even more annoyed that I hadn't trusted my instincts and double-checked. But supermarkets these days tend to rarely get it wrong for both moral and legal reasons. So I can't be entirely sure it was them. Maybe "trolmons" are the way of the future? Hmm, now that does sound appetising.
Spotted...
...one Jack, chasing off the neighbourhood scallywag kitty, baring those gnashers, tail tall and bushy, defending his territory! I forget that he probably grew up on a council estate...well, he picked up that boxer nose, half an ear and gaping hole in his front teeth somewhere, so no need to worry. He's got more street-cred than I do.
Here's how he looked when I left him.
Here's how he looked when I left him.
Sun-Blocker
How handy these pieces of material from around the world are!
Behind them: my bedroom window and the shining sun at 4.30 am.
In front of them, hopefully me sleeping for a long, long time!
Behind them: my bedroom window and the shining sun at 4.30 am.
In front of them, hopefully me sleeping for a long, long time!
When the cat's away....
Unfortunately, Auntie Ingrid got Taylor from next door into trouble because Toots and Tiger were allowed to play outside after tea. But then that was the moment of calm before the storm so I have no regrets.
Watching The Flying Scotsman making his way past:
Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds
Countless people of virtually every nationality and from a great variety of backgrounds feel that they do not fully belong anywhere in the world. These people have spent a part of their childhood or formative years in countries and cultures other than their passport country. They are called 'Third Culture Kids' (TCK) or 'Adult Third Culture Kids' (ATCK). I am a TCK and by now an ATCK too, but I think I am also another term that doesn't officially exist (at least not in the book mentioned above by David C pollock and Ruth E Van Reken - a book I highly recommend for those exploring these issues), a 'Third Culture Adult'. Fundamentally, protracted and profound intercultural experiences have provided lives with rich diversity but conflicted by the underlying question of where they fit in. The authors answer this question in a way that I have repeated over and over again - even on this blog, without really understanding the reasons why: "the ultimate place of belonging and home comes in relationships - not place. These are the pieces of life that cannot be taken away when they are built well, for they are the places of the heart". The elements that ultimately go into making us who we are are infinitely complex, but a whole section in the puzzle of life can seem to fall into place sometimes, just by understanding one truth.
Gone Fishing
The first guy who speaks is the skipper of the fishing boat the Glenugie, based in Peterhead. It was the first boat we went on in Peterhead last week but I didn't actually mention our chat together on the blog. He did say he'd been interviewed for a documentary and basically, voilà .
Incidentally, his father also features in the episode and it just so happens that his father recently published a book describing his unique experiences and vantage point in the fishing industry out of Peterhead, one picture-stuffed copy of which is now in my possession.
This link might get you there.
Only in Scotland
Beauty and the Beast
The Beast:





The Beauty




Believe me, engine rooms are not supposed to look like this:

But one thing I can say about both of them, their skippers are some of the kindest people I've ever meet. They were both so proud of their boats - even the skipper sailing the pile of junk. He had a respect for his vessel - knowing she had seen them through some bad patches and was still standing. Time and time again the kindness of people in this industry has been extraordinary.


The Beauty
Believe me, engine rooms are not supposed to look like this:
But one thing I can say about both of them, their skippers are some of the kindest people I've ever meet. They were both so proud of their boats - even the skipper sailing the pile of junk. He had a respect for his vessel - knowing she had seen them through some bad patches and was still standing. Time and time again the kindness of people in this industry has been extraordinary.
Peterhead Port
Peterhead is about 30 miles north of Aberdeen on the most easterly point of mainland Scotland. Peterhead is also Europe's largest fishing port and £128 million worth of fish passed through the port in 2008.
The fish market is a refrigerated building. When fishing vessels dock in the preceding 24 hours, their fish are stored in chill rooms until the market opens at 7am. Boxes with fish are then laid out by boat and always in the same order of species. So if the Ocean Bounty landed 50 boxes of Greens (ie Cod) then the cod boxes would all be laid out in a long line, followed by haddock hake, Blacks (Coley/Saithe), whiting, flatfish, monkfish etc and then finally Others. Then you'd start on Lunar Bow's catch, starting with the cod, haddock, hake, coley, whiting, flatfish, monkfish etc. Only one species is sold at a time by auction, so all those wanting cod follow the auctioneer down Ocean Bounty's cod catch and then on to Lunar Bow's cod catch while someone else deals with the haddock catches. It's total chaos, but once you've been there for a little while things start to become a little clearer.
The local dialect doesn't, however. They also use odd terminology which once understood makes everything make a LOT more sense. So they might offer 70 quid for a pick (repeated 10 times in the same loud voice). This means that whomever accepts the offer can then pick the number of boxes they want out of the total available from that boat. Most boats have reputations so certain buyers tend to stick to certain boats. They make sure the boxes are around the right weight (normally about 50Kg) by lifting it up but they may tip it over to check the quality is the same right through the box. Getting first pick means getting the best fish and you generally pay a small premium. Once those have gone the auctioneer offers the rest of the row and finally 'the shot' which is whatever is left.
Increasingly, quality determines the price and much of quality depends on how the fish are handled once caught and chilled on board the boat. Buyers signal their intention to buy at that price through a variety of unfathomable methods, most of which I completely failed to catch. Somehow boxes and boxes of fish were sold from right under my nose despite my best efforts to see a nod here, a shake of the head there, a wave or even eye contact. I did see one guy stand right beside the auctioneer and give him a deft whack on the back whenever he agreed to a price, but foot stamping, coughing and the ol' nudge and a wink are other methods.
Peterhead is not an open auction market so there are no random punters watching what's going on. Apart from me, there was not one woman in the place. It caused quite a stir when I first walked in with my fashion-wellies and sea-blue coat, but I was quickly hustled out by the harbour master, provided with standard white wellies, a hat plus hair net and a white coat and I blended right in with the rest of them, except maybe for a lack of paunch or foul mouth. But the banter that goes on between those guys...there's a very strong community feel in the place.
Within 90 minutes 5000 mt of fish is sold and immediately hauled out of the market by transporters who take the fish direct to processors or on to London or wherever. We followed a box of mackerel over to the other side of the harbour and the processing plant we were visiting who set to work on it while we met with management to discuss some of the sustainability issues coming through, particularly carbon miles which retailers are starting to ask for. By lunchtime we had caught up with our filleted mackerel, now lying in 'butterly' fillets in the deep freeze (-25) having been blast frozen. The speed with which fresh fish can have the freshness 'locked in' by blast freezing means that frozen fish can often actually be fresher than 'fresh fish' at retail counters which have spent up to 8 days chilled at sea and a further 48 hours getting to where they need to go.
When the mackerel season opens on 1 June then the factory will run around the clock for 3 months, basically until the quota is used up, before it will switch back to whitefish for the winter. A lot of fishermen talked about the need to let the market regulate quotas - allowing fishermen to choose when to go to sea rather than being forced into certain 'open days' and 'days in port' which are predetermined, regardless of the weather. I don't deal with these issues so much anymore but it still reminded me of many of the meetings I had with fishermen while working in Brussels. That was 10 years ago and nothing seems to have changed.
The market in full swing
Grouping the purchases for transport
How the fish is laid out. When the EU used to organise quotas by 'number of boxes' then these boxes could be piled high in order to get extra catch through. Now it's (loosely) controlled by weight (buyers lift boxes to check weight and will bid accordingly)
Catch laid out by boat with the buyers advancing
The fish market is a refrigerated building. When fishing vessels dock in the preceding 24 hours, their fish are stored in chill rooms until the market opens at 7am. Boxes with fish are then laid out by boat and always in the same order of species. So if the Ocean Bounty landed 50 boxes of Greens (ie Cod) then the cod boxes would all be laid out in a long line, followed by haddock hake, Blacks (Coley/Saithe), whiting, flatfish, monkfish etc and then finally Others. Then you'd start on Lunar Bow's catch, starting with the cod, haddock, hake, coley, whiting, flatfish, monkfish etc. Only one species is sold at a time by auction, so all those wanting cod follow the auctioneer down Ocean Bounty's cod catch and then on to Lunar Bow's cod catch while someone else deals with the haddock catches. It's total chaos, but once you've been there for a little while things start to become a little clearer.
The local dialect doesn't, however. They also use odd terminology which once understood makes everything make a LOT more sense. So they might offer 70 quid for a pick (repeated 10 times in the same loud voice). This means that whomever accepts the offer can then pick the number of boxes they want out of the total available from that boat. Most boats have reputations so certain buyers tend to stick to certain boats. They make sure the boxes are around the right weight (normally about 50Kg) by lifting it up but they may tip it over to check the quality is the same right through the box. Getting first pick means getting the best fish and you generally pay a small premium. Once those have gone the auctioneer offers the rest of the row and finally 'the shot' which is whatever is left.
Increasingly, quality determines the price and much of quality depends on how the fish are handled once caught and chilled on board the boat. Buyers signal their intention to buy at that price through a variety of unfathomable methods, most of which I completely failed to catch. Somehow boxes and boxes of fish were sold from right under my nose despite my best efforts to see a nod here, a shake of the head there, a wave or even eye contact. I did see one guy stand right beside the auctioneer and give him a deft whack on the back whenever he agreed to a price, but foot stamping, coughing and the ol' nudge and a wink are other methods.
Peterhead is not an open auction market so there are no random punters watching what's going on. Apart from me, there was not one woman in the place. It caused quite a stir when I first walked in with my fashion-wellies and sea-blue coat, but I was quickly hustled out by the harbour master, provided with standard white wellies, a hat plus hair net and a white coat and I blended right in with the rest of them, except maybe for a lack of paunch or foul mouth. But the banter that goes on between those guys...there's a very strong community feel in the place.
Within 90 minutes 5000 mt of fish is sold and immediately hauled out of the market by transporters who take the fish direct to processors or on to London or wherever. We followed a box of mackerel over to the other side of the harbour and the processing plant we were visiting who set to work on it while we met with management to discuss some of the sustainability issues coming through, particularly carbon miles which retailers are starting to ask for. By lunchtime we had caught up with our filleted mackerel, now lying in 'butterly' fillets in the deep freeze (-25) having been blast frozen. The speed with which fresh fish can have the freshness 'locked in' by blast freezing means that frozen fish can often actually be fresher than 'fresh fish' at retail counters which have spent up to 8 days chilled at sea and a further 48 hours getting to where they need to go.
When the mackerel season opens on 1 June then the factory will run around the clock for 3 months, basically until the quota is used up, before it will switch back to whitefish for the winter. A lot of fishermen talked about the need to let the market regulate quotas - allowing fishermen to choose when to go to sea rather than being forced into certain 'open days' and 'days in port' which are predetermined, regardless of the weather. I don't deal with these issues so much anymore but it still reminded me of many of the meetings I had with fishermen while working in Brussels. That was 10 years ago and nothing seems to have changed.
Grouping the purchases for transport
Catch laid out by boat with the buyers advancing
Between a rock and a hard place
I was on a fieldtrip to Peterhead port...no other reason to be out the bed at the crack of dawn (which heading towards a Scottish summer is VERY early).
If you spot a New Testament & Psalms safely tucked into a wire mesh on one wall and directly opposite the bountiful assets of the latest Sun Page 3 model, then you are most likely on a fishing boat.


The posh version:

These boats are owned by a company who has been based in Peterhead for a long time. Around 50 years ago they realised that if they added cold storage facilities to their buildings on the harbour, they could undertake primary processing plus storage for other companies. Now the company is one of the largest in Peterhead, and has upgraded its fleet by a degree or two. We were shown around this boat first, after first removing our shoes when we entered the covered areas...unheard of in fishing. This boat was fishing only in the very loosest sense: it was really a floating hotel. And entirely immaculate, despite being 8 years old. It had wood flooring and furniture, two lounges, single rooms and a fridge that wouldn't go amiss in a fancy restaurant...and only one naked girl poster on display.
The very not posh version:
This boat is the sister shop of the boat featured on the BBC series 'trawlermen'. It was 12 years old but looked about 50. When you hear that 'fishing is the most dangerous job in the UK' then I believe it when I look at this ship. It's hard enough to get round it in the flat calm due to nets and ropes everywhere, the need to duck under things and climb over other things just to get anywhere, and of course the naked girl posters. It was filthy.

These boats are not directly competing. While one is a pelagic catcher, the other bottom trawls for demersal fisheries. But while one makes around £1 million pounds every time it lands in harbour, the other is barely breaking even. When we were there, he needed 50 boxes for it to be 'a good trip' but had only brought in 30, so he was heading back out that night with a fresh crew. Fishing is a totally different experience depending on where you are in the pecking order.
If you spot a New Testament & Psalms safely tucked into a wire mesh on one wall and directly opposite the bountiful assets of the latest Sun Page 3 model, then you are most likely on a fishing boat.

The posh version:
These boats are owned by a company who has been based in Peterhead for a long time. Around 50 years ago they realised that if they added cold storage facilities to their buildings on the harbour, they could undertake primary processing plus storage for other companies. Now the company is one of the largest in Peterhead, and has upgraded its fleet by a degree or two. We were shown around this boat first, after first removing our shoes when we entered the covered areas...unheard of in fishing. This boat was fishing only in the very loosest sense: it was really a floating hotel. And entirely immaculate, despite being 8 years old. It had wood flooring and furniture, two lounges, single rooms and a fridge that wouldn't go amiss in a fancy restaurant...and only one naked girl poster on display.
The very not posh version:
This boat is the sister shop of the boat featured on the BBC series 'trawlermen'. It was 12 years old but looked about 50. When you hear that 'fishing is the most dangerous job in the UK' then I believe it when I look at this ship. It's hard enough to get round it in the flat calm due to nets and ropes everywhere, the need to duck under things and climb over other things just to get anywhere, and of course the naked girl posters. It was filthy.
These boats are not directly competing. While one is a pelagic catcher, the other bottom trawls for demersal fisheries. But while one makes around £1 million pounds every time it lands in harbour, the other is barely breaking even. When we were there, he needed 50 boxes for it to be 'a good trip' but had only brought in 30, so he was heading back out that night with a fresh crew. Fishing is a totally different experience depending on where you are in the pecking order.
Sunrise Song
Sunset Song
Greener Living
I suppose the only real down-side is that all this green living can result in some very green eating if I'm not careful. Yesterday I came across this chap who nearly met a nasty end between my gnashers. I'm afraid I performed a very unsustainable move by promptly flushing her down the drain and chucking all her little eggs comfotably nestled between my lettuce leaves into the bin.
Maybe I'll stick to the cellophane wrapped stuff...
Pedal Power
The Crown Plaza Hotel in Copenhagen has just installed bicycles that are connected to the electrical grid. If you pedal for an hour (or 30km) you get a free meal!
Hypothesis
Kelvingrove Art Gallery
General Election 2010
Fiona Bruce
Andrew Marr
Andrew Neil
Jeremy Paxman
John Simpson
John Sergeant
David Dimbleby
Justin Webb
Jackie Bird
Sophie Rayworth
The Best of British! What more would you want from your election coverage?
Andrew Marr
Andrew Neil
Jeremy Paxman
John Simpson
John Sergeant
David Dimbleby
Justin Webb
Jackie Bird
Sophie Rayworth
The Best of British! What more would you want from your election coverage?
Billingsgate Fish Market

Inside the market.

As we were shown around by the Chief Inspector, we learned quite a lot about the fish market in general in the UK. The largest changes at Billingsgate over the past years has been the expansion of exotic species from Asia, mainly serving the ethnic communities around Billingsgate in East London. Such species as Parrot Fish, Catfish, Tilapia, Tropical Shrimp and Asian crabs join more traditional species such as haddock, cod and salmon - salmon is still around 30% of all traded products. The traders are not wholesalers so your average punter can also walk into Billingsgate and buy smaller quantities (catering companies for example will make deals to be supplied directly rather than buy from Billingsgate).

The above are fresh, wild salmon...selling for around £25 for a whole fish. The farmed variety will be about £6 for the fish. It's clear to see why demand for farmed salmon has exploded, but when you see the two side by side, it would seriously make you consider whether it's worth paying less for it. This quality vs price comparison was pointed out time and time again to us. Crafty manufacturers often use methods designed to confuse customers into thinking they have purchased a bargain. This might mean using random figures on competing products, such as the price per pound rather than the price per kilo so that you have to calculate for yourself whether one is cheaper than the other. If a trader sells '3 bags for a tenner' then you'd have most customers reaching for their mobile phone calculator in order to make comparisons...and most can't be bothered. Or some use gross weight measurements on bags of shrimp rather than net weights and discreetly mentioning in the small print 'includes glaze' - which for some products can be as much as 40% of the weight. Or mentioning in tiny lettering 'may or may not have been previously frozen' - which of course changes the quality of the product and how you would cook it.
It was really interesting stuff and the point kept being made that you often get what you pay for. Like in poker where the house always wins, manufacturers will generally always win but try to convince the consumer that they are getting a bargain.
For some reason us Brits love our BOGOFs (Bue One Get One Free) and other such deals, but when it comes to fish, it seems that paying a little bit more will almost certainly guarantee you a better product. I asked the Chief Inspector what was driving this desire for 'the cheapest product regardless of quality' and he thought it was that retailers have taught us to value cheap food. Prices don't adequately reflect the true cost of products and it's led us as a society to value cheap food. Probably too cheap. Other markets don't work the same way. For example, the French market still relies on farmers markets meaning that retailers have greater competition - and that competition in fisheries is often supplying extremely high quality fish. Without that in the UK and declines in fishmongers, we believe we can trust supermarkets and that they are looking out for our best.
Well, we've each to judge for ourselves, but the more I find out about all this, the more I am starting to change my eating habits and eating values.
But I'm still not quite as unhappy as this fella: a John Dory, who always strike me as being quite grumpy fish. Well you probably would be too if you'd just been caught.
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