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Category Archives: maritime style (word.)

nova scotia hodge podge

June 26, 2012 By in cooking, maritime style (word.), recipes 50 Comments

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nova scotia hodge podge | movita beaucoup

If you’re a Maritimer, you have probably stuffed your face with lots of fish chowder. Maybe some Screech. Or maybe some Chicken Bones. But at this time of year, it’s all about the hodge podge.

If you look for a hodge podge recipe on a recipe site like, say, Allrecipes, you might find some… weird information. You might read something like, “this is an old favourite vegetable stew from Nova Scotia. Is typically made in the fall as gardens are just harvested. It is important that the freshest veggies are used.” And that same recipe might tell you to cook the bejeezus out of your vegetables. Whatiddy what? I’m sure the person who posted that recipe is totally awesome, but also, a victim of The Conspiracy. Because some of the information in that recipe has clearly been planted by someone from a big city. Why are big city folk conspiring against Maritimers? Because they know, on some level, that we are way cool without even trying. And that kinda pisses them off. Also, they want our lobster.

nova scotia hodge podge | movita beaucoup | beans

I don’t know very many Maritimers who would call hodge podge a stew. Generally, it’s not that thick. It can be kinda soupy. Also, we harvest our gardens in the spring and summer. Just like lots of other people. And since “it is important that the freshest veggies are used,” waiting until fall seems pretty silly. Most people round here would agree that hodge podge is a summer staple. As soon as the new potatoes, carrots, peas and beans hit the farmer’s markets, we’re into hodge podge season.

I’ve seen some variations in the ingredients for hodge podge. Some recipes call for bacon or salt pork. That sounds pretty awesome, but no one I know has ever used either of those things. However, I think it’s pretty clear that a Maritimer came up with that idea. Someone from a big city would probably add quinoa and rose water. Some recipes suggest substitutions for the butter and cream. Good grief. Those things aren’t optional. Other recipes call for you to use flour to thicken the broth. Those people are probably from a big city. They might also suggest that you put turnip, cauliflower, and broccoli in there. TURNIP? Get real.

nova scotia hodge podge | movita beaucoup

Hodge podge is a celebration of fresh vegetables. No. It’s a party. A kitchen party. Because that’s what we do here. You cook your market-fresh veggies in a big pot. Not all at once – you start with the veggies that take the longest, and then keep adding in more. Peas don’t take as long to cook as potatoes – no matter what someone from a big, fancy city tells you. Then you drain off most of the water, and dump some cream and butter in there. The starch from the potatoes will thicken the cream and butter a little, but it won’t get as thick as a stew. Some of that depends on how much butter and cream you throw into the mix. Do you see the balance, people? The healthy vegetables are slathered in something… less healthy. And when you think about how long this recipe has been a Maritime favourite? It makes sense. It’s all stuff we could find in our freakin’ yards. Just kidding. Most of us don’t grow butter in our yards.

nova scotia hodge podge | movita beaucoup | carrots

Simple. Fresh. Delicious. No hiding behind fancy schmancy ingredients, or seasoning the crap out of it. Just a little salt and pepper to round things out. If you’re looking for a recipe that is brimming with complex flavours and seasonings, this isn’t it. Hodge podge is all about the vegetables. We like to let ‘em shine.

Once you’re done scarfing down the veggies, I think most Maritimers would tell you to sop up the extra broth up with some hearty bread. I’m also betting that 2.0 would like me to mention that hodge podge is just as good – if not better – on the second day. And that it tastes mighty fine alongside a juicy steak.

nova scotia hodge podge | movita beaucoup

You’ve been schooled.

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Nova Scotia Hodge Podge – a traditional recipe, original recipe likely lost at sea - print and make for city folk

Makes enough for 4-6 people.

I’ve included some notes that I hope y’all will find helpful.

  • 10-12 new potatoes – scrubbed/not peeled, and halved – quarter any large potatoes, and don’t cut the small ones – you want the potato pieces to be about the same size
  • 2-3 cups chopped new carrots – scrubbed/not peeled, cut into bite sized pieces (yah, you can peel them if you like)
  • 1 cup chopped yellow beans – 1 inch long pieces
  • 1 cup chopped green beans – 1 inch long pieces
  • 1 cup shelled pod peas – you want just the peas, not the pods
  • 1 cup blend – I believe blend is called half and half in the US – you want something around the 10% fat mark (FYI – some people use a higher fat cream, and up to 1.5 cups of it)
  • 1/4 – 1/2 cup butter (I use 6 tablespoons)
  • salt and pepper to taste

Note: the cooking times listed below are what I use. Generally, you want the veggies – especially the beans – to be tender crisp. Some people like their veggies softer, and will cook longer – thus the frequent use of the word “about.” 

Fill a Dutch oven about halfway with water, and salt lightly (about 1/2 teaspoon of salt). Bring to a boil.

Add the potatoes to the boiling water. Cook for about 7 minutes.

Add the carrots to the pot, and continue cooking for about 5 minutes.

Next add the yellow and green beans to the pot, and continue cooking for about 5 minutes.

Finally, add the peas, and continue cooking for about 3 minutes.

Drain off most of the water – leave about an inch of water (no more) in the bottom of the pot with the vegetables. Return the pot to the stove, and reduce burner heat to low. Add the blend and butter, and some salt and pepper (I start with a 1/4 teaspoon of each). Gently stir to combine, allowing the the blend and butter to heat through. As you’re stirring, the potatoes might break up a bit. Not to worry. As the the blend and butter heat through, the broth may begin to thicken. This is normal. Don’t allow the mixture to boil.

Once the mixture has heated through, it is ready to serve. Season with a little salt and pepper to taste. Serve with bread to sop up the extra broth.

Store any unused portions in the refrigerator, and re-heat before serving.

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beaucoup seafood chowder

August 12, 2011 By in cooking, maritime style (word.) 29 Comments

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beaucoup seafood chowder

Got plans for the weekend? Drop ‘em. Make this chowder instead. It will be worth it. You can always make new friends, but a classic chowder like this? Well, it’s more important than friends.

I’ve been eating this chowder since forever. Rosie Beaucoup has always made it. And except for Jackie’s Fish Chowder, it’s never been rivalled. I served it at the 2nd Annual Cat Farm BBQ. Ramekins and mugs filled before the main meat event. Adopamop said it was just like he remembered it from when we were kids, and scarfed back two helpings. I won’t lie to you – people loved it. And when people love your food, that means they love you. It’s the only reliable scale for these things.

The great thing about chowders is that they are even better on the second day. (Also, they are so freakin’ easy to make that a monkey could do it.) I don’t know what goes on in that pot, but I’m telling you, something extraordinary happens when fish and dairy products spend the night together. Kinda like 2.0 and I: magic. (But less creepy than what I just implied about 2.0 and I.) Point being that if you make it the day before you have some annoying relatives over, you can spend the day drinking your face off instead of slaving over a hot stove.

beaucoup seafood chowder

Here’s a tip I learned from Rosie Beaucoup: if you plan to drink any quantity of alcohol whilst hosting your food event, make a list of things to do (such as warm the bread in the oven, take the potato salad out of the fridge, put underwear on under the pants), and keep it on hand throughout the event. You can refer to it often, and it will be, in all likelihood, more reliable than you are after, say, six gin and tonics. Otherwise you’ll do what is most traditionally Beaucoup – find half the stuff you meant to serve your guests sitting the the refrigerator the next day.

You’re welcome.

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Beaucoup Seafood Chowder - adapted slightly from Rosie Beaucoup, original source lost at sea - print and make

  • 1/4 pound of butter (1/2 cup, or one stick)
  • 2 medium onions, diced
  • 2 stalks of celery, diced
  • 1 potato (no more), diced
  • about 3 cups chicken broth or water* – see notes below
  • 1 tablespoon each of dried basil, oregano, and celery salt
  • 2 tablespoons paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt (optional, I leave it out)
  • three dashes Tabasco sauce
  • about 2 litres of milk – homogenized
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 1 lb (or more) white fish – such as haddock, cod or sole
  • 1 lb (or more) shellfish – fresh, frozen or canned crab, shrimp, scallops, or lobster. I recommend using at least two – a 1/2 pound of each selection – in addition to the white fish. I strongly recommend scallops and lobster – I never use anything else. Don’t use any fish with a dominant flavour such as salmon, sardines, clams, etc.

For this recipe, I almost always use at least a pound of haddock and/or cod, a small package of frozen small-sized scallops and a can of frozen lobster knuckles and claws. I think the sweet scallops and lobster really make this chowder.

To make:

In a large Dutch oven, melt the butter and then sauté the onions and celery over medium heat – allow them to soften a little – just a few minutes. Add the potato and add only enough chicken broth (or water) to barely cover. Cook until the potato is just barely tender. Add the basil, oregano, celery salt, pepper, salt (if using), paprika and Tabasco sauce. It will seem like a lot of spices, don’t worry.

Layer the fish and shellfish on top. Add just enough chicken broth (or water) to cover. Cook only until fish barely flakes.

Add the cream, and then fill the pot with the milk. If you think you’re going to run out of room in the pot, skimp on the milk, not the cream. My Dutch oven is standard-sized, and there is plenty of room.

Allow the chowder to warm through. Keep on a bare simmer until serving or refrigerate and slowly heat up before serving.

* Notes:

Water is traditionally used in chowders such as this, and will taste just fine if you opt for that instead of broth. If using broth, as I do, I recommend using a sodium reduced variety (I use one of those 900 ml tetra paks) – if you find it’s not enough, you can make up the difference with water. The chicken broth adds just a bit of richness to the chowder.

I find chowder is best on the second day, so when entertaining, make it the day before – it will save you time and stress on the day as well.

After refrigeration, I put the pot on low and allow 45 minutes it to heat through. Do not allow the chowder to boil – low heat is key.

You will notice that the spices seem to sit on top of the chowder, like an oil slick. Don’t worry – when you serve, give a little stir and then scoop – just the right amount of spice will come up with the ladle.

jackie’s fish chowder

November 15, 2010 By in cooking, maritime style (word.), recipes, the ocean family 6 Comments

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I’m a Maritimer. Born and raised in Nova Scotia. So is 2.0. Maritimers are a happy and… robust people. Mostly because we like to eat chowder. Lots of it.

Don’t tell me you don’t like fish. And don’t even think about saying you don’t like lobster. Because you do. And don’t tell me that all that cream and butter isn’t good for you. Of course it is. It came from a cow. You like cows.

This is Jackie’s recipe. Jackie is 2.0′s mother. She makes food that warms you from the inside out. And today we decided we needed some warming from the inside out. Last week it rained for six days straight. It poured. And every time you thought the sky had dried up, the rain would start again. We got about three months worth of rain in a week. Record breaking weather. Chowder weather. And sure, the sun has returned, but not before I got a hankering for lobster.

2.0 isn’t really into lobster – probably because he used to work on a lobster boat. Most lobster fisherman don’t seem to like lobster. Not like my family – we’d kill you for lobster. No lie. But 2.0 likes lobster in his chowder. See how that worked out? We’re both happy.

The recipe is pretty straight forward. Peel and dice a few potoates (we used 5) and an onion. Throw ‘em in a Dutch oven. Add enough water to just cover the potatoes. Get ‘em cooking over medium-high heat – bring to a boil and then let cook for a few minutes. When the potatoes are just getting tender, throw in some fish.

Add some white fish – two large fillets of haddock.

And then some scallops (ours were frozen) – about 1/2 pound.

Then let the fish simmer in the pot as you turn your attention to the lobster. We bought some frozen lobster – legs and pieces. Fry that spectacular lobster up in 1/4 to 1/3 cup of butter, a bit of salt and some pepper.

You want the butter to get all orangey like. That’s what 2.0′s mummy stresses. You’ve gotta let that butter mingle with the lobster. The butter will take on some of the orange-red colour of the lobster.

Then drain some of the water out of the Dutch oven. Add the lobster to the pot. You want to make sure you get every last drop of the orangey butter into the pot. That’s very important. Every. Last. Drop. Then add one litre of blend. Do it. Pour the whole thing in.

Let all that goodness settle together for a bit. Turn back the heat and let the pot do it’s job. Let the potatoes and fish get to know one another. Once the kitchen smells of chowder and the mixture is nice and hot, ladle some into a bowl. Then eat it all by yourself in a corner. Don’t talk to anyone. Just suck up that chowder.

Seriously. You need to make some.

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Jackie’s Fish Chowder – a recipe from 2.0′s mother - download the recipe for Jackie’s Fish Chowder

  • 4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
  • 1 medium onion, diced
  • 2 large fillets of white fish (haddock, for example)
  • 1/2 pound scallops (fresh or frozen)
  • 1 package or can of frozen cooked lobster pieces (about a pound)
  • 1/4 to 1/3 cup butter
  • 1 litre of blend

Put diced potatoes and onion into a large Dutch oven. Add just enough water to cover the potatoes. Cook over medium-high heat. Let the water come to a boil. After they’ve cooked for about five minutes (just starting to get tender), add in your white fish and scallops. Reduce the heat and let the pot simmer as you add 1/4 to 1/3 cup of butter and the lobster pieces to a skillet and cook over medium heat. Cook the lobster until the butter has taken on an orangey-red colour from the lobster. Drain some of the water out of the Dutch oven – I scoop about 3-4 ladles out of the pot. Add the lobster and every last drop of the butter from the skillet into the Dutch oven. Add the litre of blend. Allow to come together over low heat. Eat right away or refrigerate until you’re ready to gobble it up.

blueberry grunt

August 11, 2010 By in baking, dessert, maritime style (word.), recipes 5 Comments

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Whenever I make blueberry grunt, I think of my brother, Adopamop. Mostly because when we were kids we would replace the word “grunt” with an actual grunt. This was endlessly entertaining. (For us.)

Sweet, juicy blueberries combined with soft dumplings. If lovin’ this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right. Blueberries are available at our local stores in five-pound boxes right now. Deeeelightful! Apparently, wild blueberries are the Provincial Berry of Nova Scotia (as declared by an Act of the House Assembly). And Nova Scotia is the largest producer of these little blue gems in Canada. Also, Oxford, Nova Scotia is the blueberry capital of Canada. I’m not sure who decided that, but they’ve got it scrolled across a huge sign as you enter town. Oxford hosts a lot of events that you’d probably enjoy, such as: the Wild Blueberry Bash, the Wild Blueberry Miniature Horse Show, the Wild Blueberry Amazing Race, and a Duck Race. I’m not sure how the duck race is related to blueberries, but it sounds wicked awesome.

blueberry grunt | movita beaucoup

This traditional Nova Scotian dessert is super easy to make. You drop spoonfuls of dough into an ocean of simmering blueberries, and then cover it all with a lid. And like magic, when it’s time to lift the lid, you’ve got huge dumplings to spoon out into bowls. And then you ladle the hot blueberries all over top.

Of course, when you make it at your next family event, you can laugh at everyone’s blue teeth. That’s the side effect of my prescribed dessert for you: blue teeth. But you won’t tell your friends and family why you’re laughing. Nope. Not even if you know they are heading to another engagement right after yours.

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Blueberry Grunt – a traditional Nova Scotian recipe, passed on to me by Rosie Beaucoup, original source unknown and possibly lost at sea - print, make, and laugh at each other’s blue teeth

  • 1 quart of blueberries (4 cups), frozen or fresh
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1/2 cup sugar (more or less to taste)
  • 2 cups flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1 tablespoon butter, cold
  • approximately 1 cup milk
  • you will need a Dutch oven with a tight fitting lid

In a large Dutch oven, over medium heat, bring the the blueberries, water and 1/2 cup sugar to a gentle boil and continue cooking until there is plenty of juice (several minutes).

As the blueberries are cooking, sift the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar together into a medium sized bowl. Cut in 1 tablespoon butter with two knives or a pastry cutter (until it resembles peas). Then add sufficient milk to make a soft dough – I find I usually need about 1 cup of milk. The dough should hold together but still be wet looking – softer than play dough.

Once the blueberries have become nice and juicy (and cooked down slightly), drop the dough by tablespoonfuls over the berries. Cover closely and cook for 15 minutes over medium heat. Do not lift the lid during the cooking time. After 15 minutes the dumplings should be poofed up and cooked through. Remove from heat and serve hot.

A note from Rosie Beaucoup: dumplings will not cook properly if you lift the lid during cooking – no peeking at your dumplings as they cook. In addition, some cooks feel that milk makes a dumpling tough. But Rosie and I usually use milk for this recipe, and we’ve never been disappointed.

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