Thursday, September 30, 2010 ― Orkney Breakfast, Orkney Bannock

Break­fast in Kirk­wall was deli­cious, but it was a veg­e­tar­i­an’s night­mare. Fried eggs, a huge beef sausage much meati­er than an Eng­lish banger, a slab of blood pud­ding, some fried toma­toes, and toast. Noth­ing even remote­ly green.  I wan­dered through a super­mar­ket, look­ing for some­thing to take with me on the com­ing day’s jour­ney to the Isle of Rousay. The pro­duce sec­tion was tiny, and most­ly filled with turnips and pota­toes. There were some sad-look­ing heads of let­tuce that looked like they had been used for bal­last in a Liber­ian freighter, and some cab­bages. Like the Cana­di­an Arc­tic, the Orkneys seems to be a realm of carnivores. 

But, pass­ing a bak­ery, I spot­ted what I knew from lit­er­ary sources was the sig­na­ture link between the land of my birth and this leg­endary arch­i­pel­ago: ban­nock. It’s a sweet quick-bread that can be oven-baked, or made in a pan. Ban­nock was, for cen­turies, a sta­ple food in Cana­da, espe­cial­ly in the Arc­tic, the Sub­arc­tic, and the West. It is still the tra­di­tion­al Métis and Native Cana­di­an treat. Among the Plains Cree and Plains Ojib­way, it is still a near-oblig­a­tory for­mu­la of polite­ness for a guest to ask a host “did your grand­moth­er make this ban­nock?” There must be a thou­sand recipes for it, and in Cana­da, all sorts of things are thrown into it: blue­ber­ries, saska­toon­ber­ries, cran­ber­ries, even tree moss. The Innu­it fry it up greasi­ly. The Métis call it “galette,” the Swampy Cree call it “alakon­a­how,” and every­one calls it deli­cious. In the bush, I’ve seen it cooked coiled on a stick. The camp­fire ver­sion is tra­di­tion­al­ly made by prop­ping a skil­let ver­ti­cal­ly close to the flames, so that it is “baked” by radi­ant and reflect­ed heat. And there, in a Kirk­ness bak­ery win­dow, was a pile of it, fresh­ly made. I zipped in and bought some to try right away, and more to feed me on my journey. 

The Orkney ban­nock was absolute­ly iden­ti­cal to the most tra­di­tion­al kind I’ve tast­ed in the Arc­tic, at Pow-Wows, and most recent­ly in a Dream Tipi. I dis­ap­prove of the mod­ern trend of sub­sti­tut­ing “all-pur­pose” wheat flour for the tra­di­tion­al tangy bar­ley flour. It was utter­ly scrump­tious. I brought noth­ing else for the day except a dried sausage, so that my adven­ture on Rousay would be proven­dered much like a voyageur’s canoe trip was fueled by ban­nock and pemmican.

Leave a Comment