Food is key to enjoying the journey. How many meals? 5 weeks equals 35 days x 3 meals a day, equals 105 meals, and add a week in case of an emergency. I’ll fish. I’ve often brought a pressure cooker to save fuel and convert short grain brown rice, or make soup, and even bake bread. I’ve brought a reflector oven to bake in front of a small fire, but not this year. I bowed to convenience, even feeling enchanted with myself by bringing a leg of prosciutto, bone in, for my protein (I’ll come back to the ham). I’m not native and can’t count on knowing where I could eat off the land. Lost to us in our modern age is the understanding of ‘Kith and Kin,’ an old Celtic saying, known world wide to hunter/gathers, and country people.
We know who our ‘kin’ are but we no longer know our ‘kith;’ our surroundings: where the best fishing is, where the cloud berries are, the deer runs, the tea plants, a knowledge of the land as intimate as knowing our family. In former days, your life depended on it. I have a New York City friend, Lucretia, who would object, saying, “I know my kith. I know the safest cash machine to use. I know which number bus to take, the best restaurants in my neighborhood. I know to shop in this store and not that one.” She’s right, it’s similar, but not the same.
I’m carrying instant white rice, granola, tins of tuna, smoked mussels and oysters, three pound wheels of sharp cheddar cheese (3 of them), loose teas, tea bags and coffee, brown sugar, spices, Tabasco sauce, almonds, salt and pepper, Skor candy bars, gum, ghee, Cream of Wheat, Maggies soup mix, pre-mixed pancake batter with dried blueberries, figs, raisins, rum (180 proof for a touch in tea at the end of the day), peanut butter, and three plastic honey bears. Although I bring a cabbage, I’m shy on fresh greens. Back in town, the first thing I order is a huge salad. For the first few days out, I bring a loaf of bread, several onions, bananas, a dozen eggs, and a few oranges. If anyone would like a more complete discussion of foods reach out to me at: [email protected]. I’d rather not eat freeze-dry.
Along with the kitchen, I keep a week’s supply of food in the wannigan. Everything in one place. Having one week’s food in the box means if I eat the granola in three days, I can’t re-fill the Nalgene bottle until the week is up. It holds me in check because I can be impulsive. Cream of Wheat has little to recommend it for nutrition, but it’s what you put in that makes it a divine breakfast. Cooking in two minutes, it saves fuel. Add salt to the water and bring to a boil, and then add the Cream of Wheat, stirring until it’s soupy. As the water heats, I add raisins to soften them. When ready, I’ll add a dollop of peanut butter, or ghee, brown sugar or granola, or all the above. Heaven.
As for the prosciutto, the reason it appealed was because it’s tasty, already dried, and won’t go bad. I’d just scrape off the mold. It was a novel idea, full of potential, but what makes it wonderful at home is that machine in the butcher’s that slices it thin as paper. On the river, the fat was seeping through the cheese cloth I wrapped it in, even staining the small pack I devoted to carrying it. What an invitation to a bear! I wasn’t able to cut it thin with my knife. Chewing chunks of prosciutto is like chewing plastic. After three days, I hiked the leg back from the river, and laid it gently against a boulder for a wolf to find. I lessened my weight by 8 pounds, and smiled, to think of the unusual taste the wolf would encounter, and I felt sure he’d scour the territory to find the other three legs.
