Notes from the Chef’s Sidekick (Helenka)

I think my second most popular sentence in the English language is “Are we having a barbecue?” The only reason it’s not #1 is because we can’t barbecue in Toronto 12 months of the year. Mind you, I’ve done it for 6 – stretching the season to include a usually brisk Canadian Thanksgiving Day (2nd Monday in October). So that means my #1 sentence surely must be “When’s our next party?”

Brian and I have held many parties (from huge gatherings such as an indoor Beach Party and Hawaiian Luau in January to large dinner parties in a garden-like solarium of a midtown restaurant in late winter). And there have been barbecues just for the two of us (for many years on my penthouse balcony in the Yorkville area), as well as barbecues that were also parties (gee, we’re so flexible, as well as gregarious hosts). The large parties were always held at our favourite firepit (#10) at Hanlan’s Point on the Toronto Islands (two pics of us above are from that era).

My first experience with the Islands was when I was chosen to attend the Science School at Gibraltar Point in the winter of 1962. I remember it was a damp winter and one of the weirdest experiences was sticking my bare hands into the earth and feeling worms crawling about. ::shudders:: Okay, that’s quite enough science!

I also remember attending the Mariposa Music Festival (folk music) in 1970 (on Olympic Island, I believe). And then I started going across by ferry just to enjoy all the grass and trees, for elegant picnics with friends (even an outrageous one which involved my fondue set!). When Brian and I finally began going over in the early 1990s, we would take the ferry to Ward’s Island, and then walk all the way to Centre Island (where we would treat ourselves to fabulous creamy ice cream cones). We also did the kiddie rides at Centreville Amusement Park and saw all the animals at the farm (and spied on them from the overhead gondola ride ::waves to the piggies::). Another time we celebrated my birthday (in the middle of the week) by taking a mid-day ferry across and having a leisurely lunch at the restaurant at Centre Island while enjoying the view of the Toronto skyline. The only thing we didn’t get a chance to do in all our years was to rent a 2-seater, 4-wheel bicycle with a canopy.

One of my favourite memories of a large barbecue is seeing Brian build a Stonehenge-type structure in the firepit with the logs so that, even when it began to drizzle, the base of the fire was protected. He’d run over every so often with an umbrella to see that it was still okay. Because, yes, even though we used the official barbecue grill for cooking our food, the day wouldn’t have been complete without roasting marshmallows.

I’ve owned (and destroyed, lol) a number of charcoal barbecue grills. From small hibachis to those round pans with metal prongs as legs, to a monster charcoal grill that actually came with a hood and electric rotisserie attachment. But, now, my only barbecue is an indoor Oster grill . Sadly, I miss the taste that fire imparts, but it’s a far safer appliance for me – and it gives me the ability to pretend that I am actually having a barbecue all 12 months of the year. So that’s definitely a win.

We’ve enjoyed cooking so many different foods on the barbecue, some of which we’d never tried before. Brian introduced me to the concept of taking a head of garlic, slicing off the pointed tips, sprinkling with salt, pepper and olive oil, before twisting in aluminum foil and roasting for about 45 minutes. Fabulous all on its own or squeezed over baked potatoes. I remember finding a recipe for elegant potatoes, sliced thinly cross-wise but not all the way down, interleaved with slices of lemon and jalapeno peppers. One time, Brian marinated a whole mess of shell-on shrimp in a spicy PC Memories of (I believe it was) Szechuan sauce. I’d also entertained the idea of buying a cooked lobster and basting the split halves with melted butter while reheating on the grill (still haven’t, but there’s always next time, right?). Of course, we’ve done chicken (who hasn’t). And all sorts of veggies (in cute little packages with fresh herbs). Or kabobs. Yay for cherry tomatoes and onions and peppers and other morsels of veggilicious goodness! The sliced yams I’d mentioned in previous notes, marinated in garlic and olive oil, then brushed on one side with mustard and maple syrup on the other. Or corn-on-the-cob, soaked in cold water before being placed on the grill in its husk (silk removed) to steam-roast.

We also came up with a brilliant idea of how to enjoy the taste of barbecued food even in the dead of winter. We would bring extra food to barbecue after we’d prepared our meal. My fave was grilling several salmon steaks that, I hoped, would keep me content over the winter months.

Another memory I will never forget (indelibly etched, that’s for sure) is how Brian and I would arrive at our fave firepit hours before an event, descending on the location in our self-designated role as “Housewives from Hell”, complete with J-cloths, paper towel and Windex. By the time our guests arrived, everything sparkled! And we’d still had a lot of fun.

We timed some of our parties to coincide with the Fireworks competition. After our barbecue and toasted marshmallows, we’d pack up our stuff and walk north towards the Airport fence and settle down again. Brian brought his mini speaker system, so that we could listen to the simulcast music while we watched the brilliant bursts of colour in the sky above our heads. And, then, finally, we’d have to make a mad dash to catch the last ferry back to the mainland. Ah, yes. Very good times, indeed.

Also, not many city-dwellers are blessed to have their own cottages. So, another of Brian’s and my unique contributions to the vocabulary of our friendship is the concept of arriving at Hanlan’s Point, doing the short trek to OUR firepit, unfolding our lawn or camping chairs, sighing in smug satisfaction and congratulating ourselves for opening up the cottage over yet another long Victoria Day weekend in May where the huge expanse of grass and trees was our front lawn. Or was it the back lawn? But that’s a minor detail.

So, who knows, our friends at FFF … perhaps, one of these days, we’ll have a potluck barbecue and you’ll ALL be invited! Here’s to many more good times ahead.