Learning about Newfoundland food – including seal! – at St. John’s Bacalao [classic article]

St. John’s Bacalao bills itself as “nouvelle Newfoundland cuisine”; they also dive into the foods of mainland Labrador. Don’t be thrown off by the description — they’re actually cozy and laid-back, though the food is fine dining. Dress is casual. They do focus on the local produce, seafood, meats and spirits of the area. When not obtainable, they venture out just a little bit to nearby Canadian provinces. I was so happy to be hosted to experience it as part of my experiencing the Terroir Symposium.

So, the concept was, if we encourage different areas to eat local foodstuffs, what are some of these foodstuffs?

I started with a cocktail made with local Iceberg Vodka — itself made with actual icebergs! This is a daredevil feat, because only 1/8 of an iceberg appears above water (“tip of the iceberg”) and the rest is a dangerous mass just waiting to tear up your boat! Also in the drink was dogberry tonic, red grapefruit. It had jammy fruit notes with tonic qualities. Very drinkable and well-balanced.

I learned that Newfoundland cuisine is typically very rustic, with foragers picking berries and mushrooms. The wines are berry wines.

So, for an amuse bouche, I was served a taste of seal croquette with a mango-coffee dressing. Now, this was probably the best way to tipee-toe into the taste of seal, because the ground meat mixture had pork in it, too. This fried croquette had inro flavors, like blood sausage.

The next course was cod tongues with lemon aioli, pickled onion and pickled radish. The cod tongues were crispy outside, fried, tender and soft inside. They were full of flavor! In a remote island cuisine, they sue all the protein parts. But Bacalao does interesting things with it!

I learned that the next course, Fogo Island cod duo, was caught in a cod pot — said to make for sweeter, superior fish than that caught in a net. Fogo Island is an island off the island, billed as being “far away from far away”. The cod was then salted and cured in-house, plated with local shrimp. I’m afraid this dish wasn’t my cup of tea, as it was too salty to my palette.

Newfoundland traditional desserts are definitely rustic. One petit four was made with partridgeberry, which is like a lingonberry. Crumbed fruit desserts have a history in Canada, the USA and the UK of hundreds of years.

Screech is the name of a rougher rum that Newfoundland started producing in the era of the Rum Triangle. The restaurant provided a local historian and re-enactor who did a charming “screech-in with us strangers. Wiki describes such a ceremony well:

Newfoundland Screech is used in a non-obligatory ceremony known as the “screech-in”. The “screech-in” is an optional ceremony performed on non-Newfoundlanders (known to Newfoundlanders as a “come from away” or “mainlander”) involving a shot of screech, a short recitation and the kissing of a cod.

The general process of a screech-in varies from pub to pub and community to community, though it often begins with the leader of the ceremony introducing themselves and asking those present if they’d like to become a Newfoundlander. The proper response, of course, would be a hearty “Yes b’y!” Each participant is asked to introduce themselves and where they come from, often interrupted by commentary by the ceremony leader, jokingly poking fun at their accent or hometown. Each holding their shot of Screech, they are then asked “Are ye a screecher?” and are taught the proper response: “‘Deed I is, me ol’ cock! And long may yer big jib draw!” (Though with a Newfie accent, it often sounds like this: “‘Deed Oi is, mee-all cahk! An’ lahng may-yer big jib-jrah.”) Translated, it means “Yes I am, my old friend, and may your sails always catch wind.”

A cod fish – or any other fish ugly enough to suitably replace the cod – is then held up to lip-level of each participant, who then bestows the fish with a kiss.