Saturday, September 30, 2006

Travelling Potato

My kitchen really is lonely lately. I’ve been travelling with my job, and will continue to do so through to December. The nice thing is (usually), this is a great travelling time of year. The hills are already changing to beautiful red, yellows and oranges, the air is crisp and the sunlight is a little more mellow, less harsh.

Eating on the road can be difficult. I travel to a lot of small towns, so I end up at a lot of hotel/inn restaurants, mom and pop joints or the ubiquitous Pizza Delight- which I do love. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to experience an incredible food experience, but a lot of the time, I’m wishing for my own cupboards. The hardest thing is simply not being able to go to the kitchen and grab an apple, a glass of something, or a stack of crackers. On the road, changing hotels every day, everything has to be purchased and considered for the size, expiry, storage requirements, etc.

My most recent set of adventures were in Western New Brunswick: Grand Falls, Perth-Andover, Plaster Rock, Woodstock, Hartland, Nackawic, and Fredericton. If you’re a Maritimer, you’re probably familiar with the names at least, and may have driven through the area on your way to Quebec. It’s not very populated, and is mostly known for its longest covered bridge in the world (Hartland), its beauty (rivers and valleys) and its potatoes. There is a potato museum, an oversized potato man statue waving at you, and the local schoolkids even start classes early so they can have two weeks off later in the year to help with the potato crop.

The postcard above is of the potato harvest. It was the biggest seller in my hotels, and I bought all the remaining copies they had. I couldn’t pass up such a unique postcard topic. The harvest is already in, and the fields are empty as you’re driving by. But there are still a few tractors and other colourful pieces of equipment hanging out in front of barns.

1 comment:

thefriggintribe said...

As a potato worker from Northern New Brunswick, there isn't a more lovely site to see than an empty field. This means time for winter hibernation.