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Friday on All Points West. Tune in for the latest on the flooding in Duncan and for Rick Staehling's review of the latest film in the Twilight franchise.

This Week

A Few Christmas Cooking Disaster Stories....

In our household, Christmas fruitcake was a production months in the making:
sometime in September my mum, with me as her helper, would measure out the
glace cherries, raisins, and dried fruit, slosh rum over the lot, and let it
steep quietly in the basement until mid-November, at which point we'd mix up
the cake batter - each family member stirring in a wish - and bake it, for
forever. When it came out of the oven, mum would prick the cake with holes,
slosh in more rum, wrap it carefully in wax paper and foil, and then store
it in a dark place until Christmas Eve.

One year, we made the journey on Christmas Eve from Vancouver, where we
lived, to spend Christmas with friends in Penticton. Mum loaded our gear
onto the porch, and dad loaded the gear from there to the car. My brother
and I, and our old black labrador Cheemo, frolicked in between, and always
under foot. At the last moment, mum retrieved the foil-wrapped fruitcake
from its resting place and perched it atop a milk crate of goodies set to be
loaded into the car.

When it was finally time to go, mum looked and couldn't see the cake, but
decided dad must have placed it somewhere safe.

She was wrong.

Somewhere beyond Hope, Cheemo started stinking. Christmas fruitcake is, for
dogs, at least, pure poison. Unable to take the smell any longer, we stopped
at a rest stop to air out the car. Cheemo hopped out and, to our amazement,
she squatted and produced tinfoil from her nether regions in great strands,
like tinsel.

That drive took even longer than a Christmas fruitcake takes to bake.

Sophie Bird

When I was about 19 years old, I returned home from college for Christmas vacation. My mom had to work on Christmas day, so (feeling very grown up), I offered to make the Christmas dinner for our family.
The morning started off fine- I had detailed directions and a schedule to keep me on track...however...
I began the process by cutting open the plastic bag on the defrosted turkey, only to have raw turkey juice spill all over the counter, down the sides and into the drawers.As I grabbed the paper towel in a panic, I spilled my coffee and the filter full of coffee grinds- I spent the next 45 minutes cleaning up.Later, when I was taking the pumpkin pie out of the oven and placing it on the counter, I bumped the edge and spilled piping hot pumpkin pie filling all over the counter and my arm.When everything was finished and my mom had come home, she checked on the finished turkey.  Despite all that had gone wrong so far, she was really proud of me- too proud to tell me that I had cooked the turkey upside-down!
In the end, everything worked out fine.  We ate patched-together turkey, and globbed-together pumpkin pie, and I've never offered to make Christmas dinner again.

Emma Tompkins

It was our turn to host Christmas in our new house in Campbell River. We
were new parents and were eager to showcase our ability to juggle baby
and brussel sprouts! After all, my husband's older siblings always made
it look so effortless; we were up to the challenge.

On Christmas morning the year-old furnace stopped working...   Wearing
layers until suppertime didn't dampen our festive holiday spirit. The
oven was still operational and the turkey was just as tasty as any we'd
had in the past.

Once the turkey was finished cooking, we heated the first floor using
the heat from the oven. We set the oven to about 300 degrees F and kept
the oven door open... We didn't notice until the next moring that we had
melted the melamine on all of the adjacent kitchen cupboards!...

Jennifer Fotschuk
Summerland, BC

Back in the early '80s the lives of three male teenagers revolved around running, racing, stadiums, competition and athletic clubs. It was fun, we trained hard and did our best. Whilst out training one day, the miles disappearing under our running shoes, we were chatting away about how useful our parents were, especially as a taxi service - not to mention running shoes, competitiion entries, clothes and the occasional physiotherapy session to liberate our tortured bodies. For we were lean, mean running machines who lived for running free, across fields, along hard road or around a track Perhaps we should treat them to a 'no expense spared Christmas dinner?' we mused.
The date was duly set, our parents informed. The full works were to be served as a token of appreciation - we probably had to borrow money off them to get the ingredients, but they felt honoured that they were being appreciated. 6 adults, dressed up, chatting and having the occasional beer completely unconcerned at what was happening in the kitchen. The first course went well - I cant exactly remember, but probably something easy like melon. Then came the challenge. We had selected a main course of duck, as we would all have our fill of turkey later. With duck came orange sauce, veg and roast potatoes - we were going out on a limb, striking for home with the finishing line in sight. The podium beckoned, with medals for all. The duck was got out of the stove, to rest just as the recipe dictated. the vegetables steaming, the roast potatoes just crispening up. And the orange sauce was being made.
Now, the sauce required something called curacao - being teatotal (then, not now), we had no idea as to what curacao was, so I had been duly dispatched as the tallest - and hence looking over 18 to buy it. I wasn't, and was very nervous. Out I walked, with the vital secret ingredient in a brown paper bag - it had an odd looking colour, but I was confident that I had got what the recipe had demanded. On adding the alcohol to the sauce, just as the main course was being arranged for the grande entrance, to my horror the sauce turned a bright putrid looking green. The three of us just stared, having all fallen on the proverbial home straight, stranded in front of the baying crowd. Like a deer in the spotlight of a cars headlamps, transfixed by the suddenness and immediacy of time. Grabbing the recipe, it was clear that I had indeed got Curacao, but not the orange curacao listed. I had picked up some menthe flavoured curacao, not the original which is flavored with the dried peels of the laraha fruit which is grown on the island of Curacao.
Bisto gravy was served, somewhat late, doubtless lumpy - our green witches brew remained untouched, but were a talking point for a long time to come. To this day my mother still reminds me of the green orange sauce served at Christmas.
Tim Sander
New Denver, BC (then living in England)


Musical Playlist

Monday
The Breakmen - When You Leave Town
Matthew Barber - Modern Woman
Tommy T - Tribute To A King
Hawksley Workman - Rain

Tuesday
Norah Jones - Chasing Pirates
Doug Cox, John Boutte and Salil Bhatt - For You Blue
Matt Anderson - No Woman No Cry
Russell Wallace - Gathering Factory

Wednesday
In Flight Safety - Torches
Fanshaw - Strong Hips
Barney Bentall - Sending Out A Message

Thursday
Balkan Babe - Dilmano
David Newberry - Gambling Song
Duplex! - Orange Popsicle
The Haints - Riley The Furniture Man

Interviews

Ann Dale
Finding a new direction. Communities in northwest B.C. say the old economic model is broken. We find out what the future could look like.
Listen to the interview (runs 10:06 )

David Black
Battling over Canadian TV. We'll wade into the debate between Canadian networks and cable companies and what it means for the future of local programming.
Listen to the interview (runs 10:43)

Gerald Graham
Avoiding an oil spill. The debate over oil tankers on our northern coast is again raging after a frieghter struck rocks near Kitimat last week. We'll hear from a oil spill expert on the risks in the region.
Listen to the interview (runs 8:23)

Bob McDonald
Keeping our garbage at home. The province says regions will no longer be able to ship their waste stateside.
Listen to the interview (runs 9:20)

Norman Ruff
Speaking from the throne. We'll hear from political scientist Norman Ruff on what the throne speech says about the political season ahead.
L:isten to the interview (runs 9:16)

Don Carto
Guest host Howard Markson hears about the efforts to clean up the mess left by a boat that caught fire in Desolation Sound.
Listen to the interview (runs 6:48)

Celine Cousteau
Following in her grandfather's flippers. Celine Cousteau will be in B.C. this weekend to open the Ocean Discovery Centre in Sidney. We'll talk about an on-going familial love of the sea.
Listen to the interview (runs 6:52)

Sophie Pierre
Saying sorry one year later. Today marks the first anniversary of the federal apology to Canada's First Nations. We'll hear from the head of the B.C. Treaty Commission.
Listen to the interview (runs 8:41)

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