The Antarctic Book of Cooking and Cleaning: A Polar Journey

by Wendy Trusler

  Awoke in port. Dramatic step off the gangway onto continental soil. Spent morning in Ushuaia café-hopping and then a Women’s Day lunch treat from Sean. Lena makes me laugh the way she defers. “Wendya you know what I’d like—you decide. You’ve been feeding me for three months.” And later to me at Ushuaia airport, “I washed my hands with hot water and soap and there were paper towels—all these things I’ve dreamt of.” Lena says to come to Saint Petersburg for the white nights around the solstice. Sean wants to go too. Funny about him—I have this feeling I could go anywhere in the world with him, more than with anyone I’ve ever known. But we both know that would be monumental.

  Ran into Dave German just before we boarded. Good to see him and to hear that Outland New Forest has been asking if I’m looking to cook in the bush this spring. Don’t know where my next dollars will come from, but I’ve got to give creativity a chance—trust that something will work out.

  Sean and I locked together, watching a lightning storm in clouds below. A race through Buenos Aires airport. Then goodbye. Too hurried to be sad. Lena to me, “You and Sean have become so much a part of me, I sometimes find myself answering you in Russian.” Must remember to tell Sean this.

  Going solo—Solitude is an odd thing to search for in one of the most remote places on earth. And I laugh when I think how we hoped volunteers wouldn’t miss what was around them while searching for something else. My life keeps reminding me we teach best what we most need to learn.

  I loved the idea of venturing to the refuge on nights when all that nothingness swirled fiercely outside my window. Did I truly want to shut people out? Probably not. Free myself of cooking thoughts long enough to understand the poetry of KGI? Yes. But that is time and perspective, not solitude. It was pure folly to think I could hole up in a shack and divine the right texture or shade of blue to express Antarctica.

  I think of a story Carol tells about a man she once travelled with in Poland. An avid diarist, he bowed out of excursions to write in his journal while the rest of the group wondered what he could be writing about. I think of all the colours I would have missed.

  I’ve always been good at being alone. Years later, I realize Antarctica worked its way in and carved out a space in my heart as perfect as any refuge. Huddling close together down there, I wonder if the lesson Antarctica teaches best is not how to be alone, but how to be alone and together?

  Menu prepared by Frank Hurley for Midwinter Day dinner, 22 June 1912, Commonwealth Bay. Walter Hannam and Francis Bickerton prepared the meal.

  {Midwinter menu 22 June 1912 / in Charles Francis Laseron – Diaries Call no. MLMSS 385, Midwinter Dinner, Adelie Land / Frank Hurley Call no. Home and Away}

  {Midwinter menu 22 June 1912 / in Charles Francis Laseron – Diaries Call no. MLMSS 385, Midwinter Dinner, Adelie Land / Frank Hurley Call no. Home and Away}

  ROASTED PEPPER GOULASH WITH SMOKED PAPRIKA

  I was a mediocre stew-maker until I went to Antarctica, but with tender Argentinean beef at my disposal I turned myself around. Sure, it helped to be working with a budget that cancelled out my reticence to use wine, but it’s the smoked paprika and sweetness of the peppers that bring the flavours together in this dish. I love that I don’t have to use flour to thicken it and that when I made it for a garden gathering with dear friends, all the eight-year-olds at the table asked for seconds. Use hot smoked paprika if you prefer your goulash with a little more kick.

  3 pounds stewing beef // olive oil // 3 medium onions // 6 cloves of garlic // 4 teaspoons caraway seeds // 4 teaspoons sweet smoked paprika // 1 tablespoon coarse salt // cracked black pepper to taste // 1 can crushed tomatoes (28 ounces) // 4 cups water // 1 cup red wine // 4 sweet red peppers // 2 sweet yellow peppers

  Cut the beef into 1 inch chunks and pat dry. Chop the onions and garlic. Warm a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, and pour in just enough olive oil to make it slippery—if you use too much the meat won’t caramelize and you’ll miss out on all that rich colour. Brown the meat on all sides, then set aside. You’ll want to do this in small batches so that each piece of meat comes in contact with the cooking surface with enough space between that the juices cook off. Otherwise you’ll just steam the beef.

  Add a drizzle of olive oil to the pot, followed by the onion, garlic and spices. Cook over low heat until soft. Return the meat to the pot, then stir in the crushed tomatoes, water and wine. Cover and simmer, stirring from time to time, until tender, about 1 hours.

  While the goulash is cooking put the washed and dried peppers on a baking sheet. Broil in the oven 3–4 inches below the heat source, turning them frequently, until the skins are black and blistered, about 12 minutes. Put the peppers into a bowl, cover it with a plate and let stand until they are cool enough to handle, about 20 minutes. Slip off the skins and remove the stems and seeds. Trim the ribs, cut the peppers into 1-inch squares and set aside until the final few minutes of cooking. When the meat is stewed to your liking—for me it’s when the meat starts to fall apart—stir in the peppers and simmer uncovered until thoroughly warmed, about another 10 minutes.

  Serve over egg noodles tossed with butter and toasted caraway seeds, topped with a dollop of crème frâiche or sour cream. For the gluten-free crowd, sauté 2 chopped onions and 1 shredded medium green cabbage in cup of butter. Toss with caraway seeds. Cook until tender. Red cabbage confit is a delicious pairing as well—sometimes I serve both.

  Makes enough for eight to ten people.

  ROAST LEG OF PORK

  Our first roast leg of pork was the perfect finale to a midsummer afternoon on the Uruguayan soccer pitch. I’m always a little baffled by praise for cooking a roast. This cut was so large that I had to ask Volodya Cook to trim off the hock to fit it in my oven. Aside from that all I did was stud it with garlic cloves, crumble herbs overtop and put it in the oven to cook slowly while I took my turn in goal. Canada House was standing room only for that meal.

  Volodya and I prepared our final dinner at Bellingshausen in concert. I formed my honey oatmeal bread into bread men and women, much to the delight of whoever found them cooling and stood them upright on the baking sheet to dance. Volodya was on meat and potatoes. I watched as he cut all the meat from the bone of our last roast to stuff it with onions, garlic and herbs. It was delicious and I’m sure he used the bone to make stock and turned it into countless other meals. You can make an equally splendid roast without fussing as much.

  1 pork leg roast (10 pounds with the rind on and hock off) // 1 to 2 heads of garlic // plenty of dried rosemary, thyme leaves and sage leaves // salt and ground pepper

  Preheat the oven to 325°F. Pull the garlic cloves away from the bulb and peel each one, slicing any really large cloves into smaller pieces. Use the point of a knife to randomly cut into the rind of the leg as many 2-inch slits as you have pieces of garlic, and then insert a clove into each slit. (I take this same approach with any roast.) Put the pork into a large roasting pan and place in the oven. The total roasting time will be about 4–5 hours allowing 25–30 minutes per pound.

  After three hours (about an hour before the roast has finished cooking) remove it from the oven. Use scissors to cut through the top of the rind. Slide a knife along the inside of the rind and pull it away from the roast as you go, leaving enough of the fat intact to make a nice crisp top. Sprinkle the herbs overtop, rubbing them between your fingers, and season with salt and pepper. If you’re cooking for any crackling-lovers, tuck the rind back in beside the pork.

  Return the roast to the oven and cook for about another 1–1 hours until nicely browned and the juices run clear, or until a meat thermometer reads between 150°F and 160°F. Transfer the roast to a platter, cover loosely with foil and let rest for about 10–15 minutes before carving. The meat will continue to cook as it rests.

  Makes enough for 20.

  FROZEN CHOCOLATE CREAM

  I guess cold desserts in cold places are counterintuitive, because it didn’t occur to me to make ice
cream until the last two camps. The first time out I simply froze my Chocolate Mousse. But for our going-away dinner I switched to this method with results more akin to the luxury of gelato. Perhaps if we’d been there a few more weeks I would have thought to make cones. Oh, hindsight.

  7 ounces bittersweet chocolate // 3 cups whipping cream // cup sugar // pinch of salt

  Have the chocolate finely chopped and ready in a bowl. Pour the cream into a heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat and warm it until it begins to steam and a few bubbles appear on the surface. Whisk in the sugar and salt and simmer until dissolved. Remove the cream from the heat immediately and pour it over the chocolate. Stir gently with a wire whisk to make sure that all the chocolate has come in contact with the hot cream; let it rest for a few minutes then stir slowly until smooth.

  Pour the chocolate cream into a metal bowl or pan and cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally to keep a skin from forming. Cover with wax paper and chill in the refrigerator until cold (about 1 hours), then move it to the freezer to harden. Let soften for about 5 minutes before serving.

  Makes enough for six, or four true chocolate-lovers.

  Midwinter Day Dinner June 22, 1911. Herbert Ponting, 1911

  {Midwinter Day Dinner at Winterquarters Hut. June 22nd 1911 P2005/5/447}

  “June 22 was celebrated as it had been on Endurance with a feast, songs, and facetious sketches, all performed by the men in their sleeping bags. Like Shackleton, Wild took care to punctuate the monotonous existence with any excuse for an “occasion.” Toasts were drunk to the King, the Returning Sun, and the Boss and Crew of the Caird with a new concoction consisting of Clark’s 90 percent methylated spirit (a preservative for specimens), sugar, water and ginger . . .”

  —Caroline Alexander, The Endurance: Shackleton’s Legendary Antarctic Expedition, 1998

  EXPECT VIOLET SWANS

  Carol

  Polish scientists discovered a black swan near their station. We commiserated over lunch at snowy Arctowski that it was unusual and sad: swans mate for life. Perhaps it wanted to go there. Scientists note ways ‘vagrant’ bird species reach Antarctica; austral winds push them off usual migration routes; they take ship-assisted journeys or pioneer new routes.

  One scientist wondered if he could send the swan to Argentina on a ship. We do not know what happened to that swan.

  The first record of the “black-necked” swan in Antarctica was in 1922, suspected to have wandered due to severe droughts. Another visited Antarctica in 1988. Black swans are native to Australia.

  In Western society centuries ago, nothing was considered more impossible than a black swan. They were presumed non-existent until a Dutch explorer sighted one in Perth in 1697. This Antarctic experience taught me to expect even a violet swan.

  Many of us do not live where we were born. Climate change and conflict will drive more human and species movement. Respect the land. Devote it to peace. Value science. Share. Protect wilderness and aesthetic values of nature. Ensure equitable, wise use of resources. Participate. Cooperate. These principles of a global commons for Antarctica (and everywhere) were alive on King George Island. Imperfect, but alive.

  The Russian Antarctic Expedition staff did not choose us temporary workers, but they worked alongside the volunteers, opened their own impermanent home to us, and endorsed our humble cleanup efforts. It’s worth making friends of neighbours because one never knows when one will need to catch a ship ride.

  Until the end of that summer at Bellingshausen, everyone broke bread together. Wendy coached us to tear it with our hands.

  Migration is not static: that’s what the Russian scientists were observing in seals on the Fildes Peninsula. Massive elephant seals hauled past us into the ocean.

  In bad weather volunteers cleared garbage from nearby the seal migration passages. It was only a tiny percentage of the iceberg of debris. We were happy the volunteers’ work was recognized but more importantly we were honoured they joined the experiment.

  Even with new and continued action, collaboration, respect for traditional knowledge, science and innovation we can anticipate surprises. The swans are coming, devastating and beautiful ones.

  {The party after five days and nights spent in the open boats reach Elephant Island / Call no. PXA 715/20}

  AFTERWORD

  {Carol Devine}

  The final loadout: fuel pipe from Stoney Bay collected during The Joint Ecological Project at Bellingshausen, March 5, 1996

  {Wendy Trusler}

  August 16, 1998

  Bellingshausen

  Dear Wendy!

  Sure you remember, a few years ago you were cooking in expedition in Antarctica. Maybe you would be interested to know an epilogue of this story.

  Here writes Sasha, aerologist from Russian Bellingshausen station. Sorry for my scholar’s English. It improved not a lot since that time.

  I have had several months rest with my family after my 40th expedition (by the way we received on Bellingshausen your letter and photocollages, many thanks). In May 1997 I came to Bellingshausen by plane. Here are also several of our mutual familiars: Sasha Moroz our chief mechanique; Vladimir Kruzhkov, petroleum engineer; and last summer our station was visited again by Max Kirsling, German writer/tourist/philatelist. He also had good memories about that unique season when you and VIEW Foundation were here.

  I found out from Vladimir you were at Bellingshausen once more, Antarctic summer 1997, and even made a barbeque for our winterers. It’s a pity I’m late for it! Leonid our meteorologist told me you speak rather good Russian (Lena’s lessons and the course you wrote us about are not lost for you). So interesting to know whether took place your vernissage and look at photos of your works, to know how you live.

  Our Bellingshausen is planning to minimize. My greatest regret is aerology program operates last year. Jan. 1, 1999 it will close. For this reason I left for second wintering—maybe my last to Antarctica. I think due to this a project with volunteers was not continued. Many things remind me about that time, for example bread men you baked in the cinema cabin. And when we prepared Canada House for new inhabitants (Chilean builders), it was not yet weathered out a flavour either of spices or your perfumes.

  A little about other persons of our crew. Vladimir, our sympatic and best guitarist, works in a photo studio in Saint Petersburg. Dima was going to go to King George Island for season, but did not. Sasha our radio operator from Ukraine wanted to go on this expedition, but he was refused because Arctic and Antarctic Research Institute’s own radio operators are out of work. Vadim aerologist could not go due to health, same as Sergey, chief. They work in AARI. Lena our interpreter is working there also. She visited Bellingshausen on the airplane which brought us here in May 1997.

  Be sure Wendy, that everybody on King George who remembered about you, did it with big warmth and sympathy. Your time spent here was not lost in vain.

  —A. Kovalenko (Hilltop Sasha)

  Letter from Lena Nikolaeva, St. Petersburg

  May 24, 2000

  My dear dear dear Wendy,

  What a shame I did not write to you earlier. It may be due to my long stay in the safest place on earth—Antarctica.

  I am back home after a nearly five-month expedition.

  What can I report to you? Antarctica is great and fascinating but it’s not the fresh news.

  Our stations are still behind in terms of environment protection and living conditions.

  What is new? You would not recognize Bellingshausen. The buildings are newly painted in red, all the old and shabby ones are demolished and removed, the old mess room (the one filled with an ancient radio equipment) is repaired and newly furnished.

  I celebrated New Years in Prydz Bay on board the Akademik Fedorov. No turkey this time, but yes lots of Champagne. We started by midnight in the mess room with all the ship’s crew and expedition members present but in an hour or so split into small parties. I had no choice but to join my inspection team and the Captain.
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br />   And now to the really big news. I mean that you are going to marry Cam. I am so very glad that you are happy with him. Please write me more about your plan for the ceremony.

  You are asking about our wedding customs. Though I married three times I don’t know much about the specifically Russian traditions.

  At Russian wedding party usually at the beginning of it one of the guests should say loudly that Champagne tastes bitter and this “criticism” becomes a signal to all the guests to scream “bitter”. In response the newlyweds should kiss each other to make it “sweet.” The kiss should be good enough to satisfy guests, otherwise they would keep screaming.

  On my arrival to the office in April I found apart from yours, Christmas greetings from John and Carol. It was very touching they remember me. I have not heard from Sean for a long time but I do know that he had visited the Ukrainian station Vernadsky and met Sasha, the station leader (do you remember Sasha, the Bellingshausen radio operator? The one who drew funny cartoons).

  Sasha writes to me from time to time. So, this world is very small and close.

  Wendya, a lot to say and to ask you about but I have to finish now.

  Hugs and kisses from St. Petersburg,

  —Lena

  REVERBERATIONS

  Wendy

  The lines between the end of one project and the beginning of another are often blurry. Perhaps it makes more sense to think of it as one big project with recurring themes? For me they are art, food, landscape and finding where stories dwell.