You're listening to part Time Genius, the production of Kaleidoscope and iHeartRadio.
Yes, well, what's that mango?
So you know how small towns like to beef up their tourism by advertising a weird claim to fame, Like how Riverside, Iowa prides itself as the future birthplace of Captain Kirk. I really love that's right, And how Montpelier, Vermont claims to be the rotten sneaker capital of the World.
Yeah, though I'm not convinced that gross old sneakers are that much of a draw.
Maybe it's just me.
I don't know. Well, sometimes I think it pays to think outside the box, and that's especially true on the remote island of Newfoundland. The top three attractions in the
Canadian province are icebergs, whales, and puffin. But since visitors can experience all of those things in just about every coastal town there, having a unique offering can really help the smaller town stand out from the crowd, and one of the best examples of this I found is a tiny fishing village called Elliston at the tip of the Bonavista Peninsula. For the last twenty five years, Elliston has touted itself as the uncontested root seller capital of the world.
It has more than one hundred and thirty documented root sellers built into hills and banks all over town, and about half of them are still in use today. That means that with a population of about three hundred people, there's one active root seller for every five residents.
Sell I mean, I got to say, I'm surprised more people haven't visited just to see all those root sellers. Mango speaking, which what what's a root seller?
I mean, it's basically a cold, underground storage spot for storing root, vegetables and sometimes fruit. The oldest sellers are nearly two hundred years old, and from the outside they look like cozy, little hobbit homes built right into the hillside. And while it might sound strange to take a tour of, you know, a bunch of random root sellers, the underground structures actually reveal a lot about the story of Newfoundland.
For centuries, European settlers relied on root sellers to survive the harsh winters, and as a result, many of the region's most famous dishes are based on the foods that were stored in them. For example, the traditional Sunday meal in Newfoundland is Jigs dinner, which consists of boiled carrots, turnips, potatoes, cabbage, peas pudding, which is a savory pudding made of slit peas and salt beef. And no trip to Newfoundland would
be complete without trying it. And the truth is you kind of appreciate the meal a little more once you visit a cellar.
Yeah, I have to met, you're winning me over with the dinner angle here. But you know, if Jigs is a regional dish, then I'm guessing root sellers aren't exactly unique to Elliston, right, Yeah.
So underground sellers are scattered here and there throughout the province, but Elliston is definitely home to the highest number of them. It's also the town that still makes most use of them today, not only as a tourist attraction, but as a part of daily life. So many local families still depend on the food that's stored in their cellars, whether for their own subsistence or as a commodity to sell
to you know, neighbors or to tourists. And because underground storage is one of the greenest methods of preserving food. Between the hyper local ingredients and a zero power storage system. Elliston's eco footprint is about as small as it gets.
That's pretty cool.
You know.
It's funny because root sellers seem very much like a thing of the past, but if you think about the residents of Ellis ten, it's like they're using them to make the community more sustainable going forward.
Yeah, and actually that's a very new Finland approach to cultural traditions. Like the whole spirit of the region is sometimes likened to a fisherman in his boat. He moves the vessel forward to his destination, but he sits backwards while rowing. And the idea is that sometimes in order to get where you want to go, you kind of have to keep your sight on where you came from.
Yeah.
I like that, And I'm guessing by now our listeners have probably figured out our next destination. Newfoundland is one of those mysterious places that we've always been curious to visit, and today we are finally getting that chance.
Yeah, I mean the US and Canada I haven't been getting along too lately, but it's a country we adore here on the show. So in the spirit of friendship, we thought we'd spotlight one of the country's most unique and far flung destinations.
So let's dive in.
Hey, their podcast listeners, welcome the part time genius. I'm Will Pearson and as always I'm joined by my good friend Mangesh Ticketer. On the other side of that soundproof glass showing off his Royal Order of Screecher's Certificate, that's our friend and producer Dylan Fagan. Now he claims the certificate makes him an honorary Newfoundlander, but it looks like the kind of thing you could just print out online.
So I'm a little bit skeptical. I always want to trust Dylan, but this one seems a little fishy.
Yeah, so I read up on this and taking part in a screech in ceremony is pretty obscure and wonderful, And of course it's no surprise that our show's most interesting person, Dylan, has screeched.
Wait wait, wait to back up a second. What is a screech in?
So getting screeched is basically a tongue in cheek tradition for welcoming visitors to Newfoundland. It started in the capital city of Saint John's back in the nineteen seventies, and while the exact ritual varies from one pub to the next, it mostly consists of three parts. First, you recite a vaguely vulgar oath loaded with maritime lingo. Then you take a shot of locally bottled Jamaican run called screech, and lastly, you plant a big wet kiss on a frozen codfish.
You are lobbying hard for that trophy for this week's episode with just that fact. What a ridiculous tradition and I love it, But does getting screeched have any basis in the region's history year Is it just some drunken nonsense and fish kissing.
A little both? Actually, there are stories of Newfoundland sailors performing similar joke initiations, and this goes back to the nineteen forties. And as for the rum of the fish, that's a nod to the region's colonial history, when French and British settlers traded salted codfish in exchange for rum from the West Indies. Now, I'm not sure exactly how kissing got added to the mix, but I'm guessing a lot of rum definitely had something to do with that.
Only you, though it sounds like tourists are the ones who are kissing the cod. I know that Newfoundlanders are pretty fond of the fish themselves. So for hundreds of years, codfishing was the backbone of the region's economy, and even though the Canadian government put a stop to commercial codfishing from nineteen ninety two all the way to twenty twenty four, the lean whitefish still holds an outsized place in the
local food culture. In fact, I read that cod is so ubiquitous there that when Newfoundlanders say the word fish, they really just mean cod, like that's the default.
Kind of How like coke is a word for soda in the South.
Yeah, I don't know what other words.
And when you say what kind of coke do you want, the answer is always great bica.
Salmon is a salmon and tuna is a tuna. But fish only is ever caught there.
Yeah. I love that, And it also highlights just how crucial cod was to New Finland's development. Like think about an indigenous group settled there thousands of years ago because of the rich cod filled waters, and then English, Irish and French settlers did the same throughout the sixteenth all the way to the nineteenth centuries. Cod was so tasty and so abundant that it lured people from all over the world and convinced them to plant roots in this really rugged and honestly very isolated area.
Yeah, for sure.
I mean the lure of the codfish is a big reason why Newfundland is the cultural melting pot that it is today. But for all of our fish reverse listeners out there, don't worry. Even though seafood is king on the island, there are plenty of other local delicacies that don't have fins, chief among them moose meat and in particular, moose baloney.
What do you think about that, mango?
I've never heard of moose bolony.
I had not either before we were talking about this episode. The largest member of the deer family was introduced to the island in the early twentieth century. This was back when Nufouland was still a British colony, and its meat quickly became a staple and mini island kitchens and moose boloney proved especially popular with the locals, not only due to its low cost and long shelf life, but also
its versatility. So today people there serve up moose boloney in every way you could think of fried baked barbecue, stewd, canned curried, you name it, They've got it.
So is all this bolooney on the island moose bolooney in the same way all fish is shorthand for a cod.
I mean moose BOLONEI is definitely the default, but you might not see it called that on a menu. Instead, people there have their own joking nickname for it. They called it noofy steak.
Oh I like that.
And you know there's another unique island cuisine I want to tell you about. But before that, let's take a quick break. Welcome back to part time genius. Okay, Well, so, going back to what you said about Newfoundland being a melting pot, did you know the island has its own style of Chinese food?
You know, I actually saw something about that in the research and it seems kind of an outlier for an island in the North Atlantic. So I'm curious what the story is.
Yeah, So this goes back to the late eighteen hundreds when a large number of Chinese immigrants came to Canada to work on the Canadian Pacific Railway and many of the families stuck around once construction was completed, and because the laws were racist at the time, and they barred Chinese men from working most professions. A lot of them wound up opening their own restaurants. Now, just like in the States, Chinese immigrants weren't able to find many of
the ingredients that they were used to cooking with. They kind of had to improvise and develop new dishes to cater to their Western customers, and this resulted in this whole slew of regional fusion dishes, including things like peanut butter dumplings in Montreal, ginger beef in Alberta, and stir fried macaroni in Quebec.
I mean, that actually sounds pretty incredible, I know, and I'm surprise there hasn't been like a Canadian Chinese place that opened in Brooklyn like that. Sure there is one actually, but those improvised dishes, which became known as Chop suey cuisine, were served all over Canada by the mid twentieth century, and as chefs continued to expand into more remote regions, the search for Chinese ingredients got even tougher.
That was especially true in Newfoundland, where it was next to impossible to even get the basics like soy sauce, bock choi or things like egg noodles, you know, which were hard to ship onto the island, and this meant that tried and true dishes couldn't be prepared as they were in other parts of Canada. So once again China, these restaurant tours got creative and gave the island their own regional specialty, New Finland style chow Maine.
But actually I'm thinking about this. Chow main literally means fried noodles, So how do you make it without egg noodles?
Well, apparently you substitute cabbage, or at least that's the solution that one of their resourceful early chefs came up with. He sliced the cabbage into long, thin strips so that they'd at least look like noodles, and then he stir fried them with veggies and chicken, and whil New Finland style chow Maine was worn. The dish proved such a hit with locals that it was quickly added to Chinese menus all over the island.
And is this something you can still get today?
Yeah? So these days it's obviously much easier to import noodles to the island. But just like with cod and moose boloni, this new Finland original remains the default. So if you order chow Maine there, you'll absolutely get a big bowl of cabbage strips. But if you want noodles instead, you have to ask for them specifically.
I do love that they serve fried noodles without the noodles, and nobody thinks that's we somehow, and it does make me wonder though, like, is there the same stigma surrounding Canadian Chinese food as there is with you know, like American Chinese food, because we always hear that our take on the cuisine is inauthentic and shouldn't really be considered Chinese.
I'm curious is it the same up North?
Yeah, Canadian Chinese chefs definitely feeled many of the same criticisms, But it really comes down to what someone means by real Chinese food. Like there's this book called Chop Suey Nation. It's by this Chinese journalist and we and in it, she goes on this big road trip to small town Chinese restaurants in Canada, including the ones in Newfoundland, And while she starts out kind of dismissive of this food, the island's take on cho main ultimately wins her over.
She said the cabbage actually made the dish more flavorful than the traditional version, and that realization makes her completely rethink her stance on Chop suey cuisine. In fact, she writes quote, this dish, from its origin story to its ingredients to its execution, was utterly completely Newfoundland. It told the story of this place.
It was as.
Canadian as it was Chinese. The families behind it had created cuisine that was a testament to creativity, perseverance, and resourcefulness. It wasn't fake Chinese, but instead the most Chinese of all.
The most Chinese of all. Wow, that's pretty cool.
Well, I'd say that's a pretty strong endorsement, and it does make me want to give this noodle free noodle dish a try.
I just somehow can't get past this.
But all right, now that we've covered some of Newfoundland's history and food culture, feel like we should run through a few of the favorite activities to try while visiting the island. After all, we don't want to spend our entire vacation hanging out in root sellers. So beyond food, Newfoundland really has a lot to offer, and visitors to the island are especially spoiled for choice. When it comes to wildlife watching, You've got puff and breeding season in
the spring and summer. You get whale migrations in the summer and then early fall. And if you want to see a moose, apparently you can just go out to the highway at dusk and you'll probably find a few that'll be there licking season off the pavement.
Oh I love that, and it really sounds kind of spectacular, all this wildlife, you know. I actually checked to see if there was a good moose watching tour I could book, But it turns out that's not a thing. Like moose are just such a normal part of the scenery there and you don't have to go out of your way to spot one, Which brings me to my next travel tip.
If you want to.
Blend in with the locals, don't let on that you're excited to see a move.
I don't know.
That may be hard for me to do, but I also know we've got a couple non moose related sites to recommend. Before we get to that, let's take another quick break. You're listening to part Time Genius and we're sharing our muscye stops while touring Newfoundland.
All right, Mengo.
So, staying on the subject of animals that evoke a profound sense of awe, there's a sign on Newfoundland's code called Mistaken Point, and it's actually the final resting place
of the earliest ancestral animals on the planet. They're known as Eddiacrin organisms because they date back to the middle of the Eddiachrn period, which, as you know very well, was roughly six hundred million years ago, and they represent the earliest examples of large biologically complex life forms, you know, kind of an important leap and evolution here.
So I assumed these guys were some kind of sea creature. But you said there's a fossil site, So what exactly did they look like?
All right?
Well, based on the more than ten thousand fossil impressions found along the coastline of Mistaken Point, Eddiochrins ranged in size from a few centimeters to nearly two meters in length. They were soft bodied creatures that lived on the deep seafloor, and they had several different body types, all of which were incredibly bizarre.
Mango, that is so rude.
Well, we don't body shame on this episode.
I'm just saying I just can't help it.
And some of them were tubular blobs, others look like fern leaves. But the strangest of the bunch had to be one of the ones that looked like these flat ribbed pancakes. So here's a fossil photo so you can see what I'm talking about.
Yeah, that's definitely a pancake with.
Ribs, exactly what it is.
But the really cool thing about mistaken point is that hundreds of fossil impressions are readily visible on the surface of the rock, including ones left behind by those pancake looking guys. Now, if you look closely, some of the impressions actually formed trails. They're sort of like footprints.
Wait, so did eddie acrans have feet?
They did not.
In fact, feet did not exist at that point, either did walking or swimming or really any form of locomotion. So most living organisms just sort of floated along wherever the currents took them and ate whatever bits of food happened to pass by. But that's what's so amazing about these fossil trails in Newfoundland is that they're thought to be the earliest known examples of an animal moving on
its own. Oh wow, some bold little diocrans figured out how to move their muscles and move intentionally really from one place to another. This was an adaptation that forever changed life on Earth.
And this is all going off those ancient proto footprints.
Yeah, I mean, thanks to the research of paleontologists Alexander lou we now know that the crescent shaped impressions left in the rock were likely made by this suction cup like appendage that some of these creatures may have had, and they used it to adhere to these flat surfaces, just like you know, see an enemies and other creatures like that. And in some areas of Mistaken Point you can actually see a whole bunch of those crescents nested
together in a line. So the thinking is that those impressions were left behind by an ediocran that managed to stretch out its suction cup foot and kind of drag itself forward like one shaky step at a time.
Cool.
Anyway, next time you're in Newfoundland and you want to mix a little science history and your animal sight seeing, you should check out the fossils at Mistaken Point and tip your hat to the planet's og travelers.
All right, Well, eddie Acrians might be embedded in for the whole world to see. But there's another kind of island wildlife that is far more elusive. And I'm talking about the Newfoundland faerry.
And I'm guessing that Newfoudland fairy was just another word for cod No.
It turns out the province is home to a surprisingly rich fairy folklore tradition. Fairy sightings in the region date back to long before the rival of Europeans, when indigenous groups told stories of reclusive little people with supernatural powers who supposedly lived alongside them. Then, when settlers from Celtic cultures came to Newfoundland in the sixteen hundreds, they added to the island's lore by drawing on the fairy legends of their hometowns in Ireland, England and Scotland as well.
This sort of proves our earlier point that Newfoundland is much more of a melting pot than you might expect exactly.
And the result of all that cultural blending is this distinct oral tradition and folklore that really doesn't exist anywhere else in Canada. So even though Newfoundland fairies don't actually exist as far as we know, there's still a super important part of the island's culture. Most locals have at least a few fairy stories to tell you, many of which have been handed down through their families for generations.
And I'm curious, though, what are these stories about, Like, are they cautionary tales or adventures or what?
So the main through line in all these legends is that fairies are mischief makers, so a lot of the stories are recountings of people's supposed encounters with fairies and the different pranks they like to play on humans. Some of the fairi's favorite tricks include knocking over stacks of firewood, braiding together the tail of all horses in a stable, and confusing berry pickers by conjuring a bunch of trees in the middle of a pathway.
As little trouble makers.
Like it's more like a leprechaun than your typical Disney fairy or something like that.
Yeah, and another difference is that Nuflin fairies don't have wings. In fact, their physical appearance changes depending on the story, and sometimes they look like children or knee high adults, so again much like leprechauns. But in other cases they just appear as glowing lights or.
Even as animals.
They can use their shape shifting power to play some pretty mean tricks too. Like there's this old belief that if a happy baby suddenly gets temperamental, or a healthy baby grows sickly, then it's probably because a fairy has swapped the real infront with the changeling, which is basically a fairy in disguise.
I mean, that seems like a pretty low bar for deciding your baby's an imposter like that, How do you know it's not a real baby who just needs a nap.
Yeah, or a snack or something. Right, But apparently it's easy. According to legend, if you sneak into a nursery really quiet and you catch the baby's doppelganger smoking a corn cob pipe, then you know it's a fairy and which point the spell will be broken.
Okay, well that's a good good rule of thumb there.
Well, the good news is that there are some ways to protect yourself from fairy mischief. Carrying bread in your pockets is a surefire way to ward off fairies, and if you wear a piece of clothing inside out while walking in the forest, they won't be able to tell
where you're going and can't lead you astray. And lastly, coins are thought to be another charm asient against fairy which is why the more superstitious locals still pin silver coins to their clothing or even hide them inside baby carriages. So when visiting Newfoundland, stuff some rolls into your pockets and wear your shirt inside out. You might get some weird looks, but also you'll be safe from the fairy attack.
Better safe than sorry.
I guess I'm curious that, like, why are Newfoundland fairies so averse to coins and bread?
Yeah, I don't think there's an official explanation or anything, but I did read an interview in Canadian Living with this guy, Dale Jarvis, who works for the Heritage Foundation of Newfoundland, and he pointed out that the region's fairy folklore is deeply tied to the natural world, and that the fairies themselves are kind of a personification of nature. As he puts it quote, they're neither good nor bad. They don't follow human rules. Fairy stories are how we
talk about our interaction with the unpredictability of nature. They take place at the end of the garden where people go to pick berries, in the meadow, at the beach, or slightly away from the house. In the border zone between the wild and the So in that light, it kind of makes sense that fairies would shy away from bread and money, since those are products of human society other than nature.
You know, it is interesting that Newfoundland fairies are something to be avoided instead of a culture where you know, fairies grant wishes or improve people's fortunes. But let's just say one of our listeners wanted to throw caution into the wind and try to find one, like, where might they cross paths with a fairy in Newfoundland?
Yeah?
So, one of the most notorious gathering places for fairies is the so called Fairy Ring, which is in the town of Harbor Grace on the Avalon Peninsula. It's this eerie, perfect circle of thirteen massive beast trees and it's surrounded by an otherwise barren field. So you can imagine why this has sort of gained this loure, and according to legend, fairies meet there under the cover of darkness to dance
hand in hand in the moonlight. I wouldn't recommend trekking out there, though, according to legend, if the fairies catch you crashing their party, they'll spirit you away to their underground Kingdom and never let you go. But more importantly, the area is on private properties. You'd be trespassing if you go there. For a much safer fairy outing, I'd say head to Saint John's and take a tour of
Pippy Park. They have a woodland trail with fairy homes scattered throughout, and the ones who lived there seem to be much better behaved.
I do like that our sight seeing suggestions have highlighted an extinct animal and now a mythological creature, respectively. So one of the most practical travel advice guides here at part time genius.
I mean, whales and puffins are given, right, So we're taking people off the beaten path.
I guess that's right, especially given that Newfoundland is pretty out of the way itself.
Right.
Yeah, it is not the easiest place to get to. It's actually the eastern most part of Canada and of North America in general, and if you do make the trip out there, you're in for a one of a kind experience. But before we take off for the day, why don't we do a quick fact off.
So one of the most popular destinations in Newfoudland is the area known as Iceberg Alley. It's the stretch of the North Atlantic Ocean that runs along the eastern host of the province. In every spring, it's host to a slow parade of enormous ancient icebergs. Between four hundred to eight hundred icebergs pass through the alley each year, and the vast majority of them come from ten thousand year
old glaciers. These are coming off of western Greenland. Now during the spring and summer months, you can easily watch the icy procession from all along Newfoundland's northern and eastern coast. You can also book a boat tour or even go scuba diving if you want to see them up close. That sounds incredibly cold. The best part is you can take your time doing it because the average speed of an iceberg zero point four miles per hour.
That is amazing and it does sound so cool, But every time you say iceberg, I think of a boon yang and that iceberg.
It's amazing.
But if watching icebergs isn't your thing, you can also try drinking one. Several companies in Newfoundland offer beverages made with genuine, locally sourced iceberg water. They send out boats to collect bits of ice that have broken off from the berg, and once it's melted down, they use the water in the production of specially wines, beer and spirits. And there's also good news if you like your drinks on the rocks, because they also sell iceberg ice cubes.
Of course, for myself, I don't think i'd feel comfortable drinking an iceberg while looking at an iceberg. That just seems very.
Yeah, somehow that feels off all right. Well, here's a quick one about birthday celebrations. There In some parts of Newfoundland, there's an old custom called grease face, which is just fun to say.
Grease face.
It's where you sneak up on the birthday boy or girl and smear a blob of grease on their nose. Now, it's typically a parent who does the initial greasing, but the other relatives and classmates or even teachers have been known to join in throughout the day, which seems like that would just get pretty old. But the messy practice is thought to have originated in Scotland. There are a few competing explanations as to what it's supposed to mean. Some sources say the grease is to keep bad luck
from sticking to you in the year ahead. Others say it's to help you sort of flied into the new year in the same way you slid out of the womb.
I guess I really don't want that many people touching my.
Face, especially that one grease It sounds horrible, but anyway, if that wasn't weird and embarrassing enough, grease face is often followed by another birthday custom called bumps. This is when four people grab your legs and arms and lift you up and down, bumping your butt on the floor once for each year. This sucks as we get older,
and then again for good luck. So according to one Newfoundlander quote, getting the bumps was done to each of us as soon as we were old enough to walk, and ended only when we could run faster or manage somehow to avoid getting caught.
Why are all these good birthday customs also vaguely traumatic?
Definitely are well.
Here's a quick one to keep in mind when heading to New Finland from the mainland. You have to set your watch forward half an hour when you get there. And that's because the island actually has its very own time zone. It's called New Finland Standard Time or NST. It is one half hour ahead of Atlantic Standard time and an hour and a half ahead of Eastern Standard Time.
The funny part is that, geographically speaking, most of the province should technically be on Atlantic time, but the capital of Saint John is a tiny bit east of the dividing line, and since that's the island's largest population center, everyone else just follows their lead and pretends it's a half an hour later.
Well, if you think of bespoke time zone as odd, you're going to like this next fact. So in the remote Fogo Island, roughly nine miles off the coast of Newfoundland, the locals recognize seven distinct seasons. In addition to the Big four. They have berry season, which runs from September first until Halloween. It's perfect time for foraging, of course.
Then you have pack ice season, which is when ice flows surround the island in the month of March, and then finally in June, there's trap birth season, which is when fishermen would traditionally stake out their fishing grounds for the year by placing stationary nets or cod traps there. Now, if you think seven seasons has a lot to keep track of, keep in mind that Fogo Islanders claim the true count is closer to seventeen.
I don't want to mainland explain Fogo Island, but that feel like way too many seasons.
I was on board with seven. You can't have.
More seasons than you have months. But I do like that you have something to look forward to, and I like that you were able to loop things back to Cod one more time. So I think you got today's trophy.
Thank you, thank you.
It does always come back to Cod, the first fish in the hearts of the Newfoundlanders, and now in mine as well.
Well.
I am still a goldfish man myself, but that's going to do it. For today's Part Time Genius from Mary Gabe, Dylan, Will and myself. Thank you so much for listening. If you enjoyed this episode, then come find us on Instagram at part Time Genius or leave us a review on Apple Podcasts. We'd love to hear which fish is the first in your hearts or any cool facts about Newfoundland that we forgot to mention. Be sure to tune in next week for another brand new episode. Part Time Genius
is a production of Kaleidoscope and iHeartRadio. This show is hosted by Will Pearson and me Mongae Heatikler and research by our good pal Mary Philip Sandy. Today's episode was engineered and produced by the wonderful Dylan Fagan with support from Tyler Klang. The show is executive produced for iHeart by Katrina Norvell and Ali Perry, with social media support
from Sasha Gay, trustee Dara Potts and Viny Shorey. For more podcasts from Kaleidoscope and iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.