Friday, November 16, 2018

Taiwanese Pepper Pork Pie Recipe

Have you heard of Taiwanese Hu Jiao Bing? It literally translates to Pepper Biscuit! But don’t let the name fool you, these pepper pork pies are so much more than that.

Hu Jiao Bing are pastries filled with a mixture of pork, scallions and fragrant with aromatics and white pepper. The crust should be crispy but not doughy whereas the filling should have the right ratio of lean meat, fat and chopped scallions. Traditionally from Taiwan, these are an immensely popular street food at night markets which are abundant throughout the country. At one specific market called Raohe Night Market, tourists and locals alike are willing to wait in line for over an hour just to get a taste of the famous pepper pork pies there which are one of the major attractions of the market.

This recipe can be altered in many ways to suit your liking. Typically, the chopped scallions are stuffed into the bun separately with the meat filling instead of incorporating it in altogether. This is done so that the flavors of the fragrant, pungent scallions are more pronounced. However, I’ve gone against the norm by mixing it in together with the pork filling, simply because it’s so much easier to wrap. For most home cooks, we rarely tackle recipes like these are they can be very time-consuming. Many people end up putting in less filling as it makes the wrapping process so much easier. Unfortunately, what you get in return is a sad pastry with little meat and all crust...more

Perfect fare for something a little different for the upcoming holidays!

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Long-lost 325-year-old Quebec City fortifications found

Archeologists in Quebec City have discovered the first fortifications built in 1693 to protect New France from a major attack, in what is considered the first reinforced palisade of that era.

The discovery was made by an archeological firm, Ruralys, that was overseeing renovation work on a building on Sainte-Ursule street, after a worker found a small piece of wood sticking out of the black sand...more

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

A Teacher's Story by Joe Lonergan

A Teacher’s Ghost Story by Joe Lonergan

Thirty some years ago when I was teaching at St. Patrick’s High School I used to remark that the kids were gentler with each other than when I was in school. Now I feel we were all much the same over time and that not a lot has changed. One day at the end of September, I heard a commotion and stopped a group of Secondary I kids who had been chasing another one... or so I thought. I had not had a good look at whom they were chasing as I had come up on the situation quickly and just as suddenly it was over. Their quarry was long gone. It had seemed like an apprehended bullying which made me a little angry but I chose not to show this in front of the little ones. I hoped it was just a game of tag out of place. I was teaching mostly Secondary IIIs at the time. The following week when I was having lunch in my department room another teacher told me she had had a similar experience. “Where Anne?” I asked. “Down near the cafeteria” she said.

“Did you see who they were chasing?” 
 “Only a fleeting glimpse, not really,” she answered, “I was more concerned with the bunch after him; I called them up short.”

I asked the Secondary I teachers if any particular child seemed likely to be the victim but drew a blank. One teacher however was aware that six or seven kids hung around together in the cafeteria area.

“How are they?” I asked.
“Oh alright,” she said, “a little wild, you know Sec I boys, no worse than that.”
The next day heading back from the cafeteria to the teacher’s lounge I heard a commotion at the end of the hall from which I had been walking away. I turned and went down but all had returned to the normal bustle. I asked a student what had been up. 
“Dunno Sir, just Sec I kids havin’ fun!”

 “If I were to speak to a Sec I which one would you suggest Carol?” I asked a Sec I teacher. She suggested I talk to Joe Dolan as he was “a nice intelligent kid.” I asked the Director of Discipline if I could go ahead and he said sure; he had his hands full with the other four levels.

 Carol’s classroom was across the hall from mine and we could each see the front of each other’s room. Carol taught Joe during one of my few off periods. I asked her if she could send him in to see me. She agreed to send him the next day after he turned in his Math test; he always finished well before the others.
“Excuse me Sir, Miss said to come and see you.”
 “Yeah! Hi Joe. Is Mike Dolan you dad?”
 “Yes Sir,” he said smiling with the same lightly freckled face as his dad.
“I was in class with him when we were small Joe, tell him Joe Lonergan said Hello!”
 “OK, I will Sir.”
 “Joe, can you tell me who the Sec I kids have been chasing down around the cafeteria area?”

The smile on Joe’s face turned to one of looking perplexed. He shrugged and said, “Oh, wow, you know about that? I don’t know who the kid is. We all thought he was in another Sec I group but it turns out he’s not in any of them. He’s weird, we never get a real good look at him.”
 “Weird?” I asked.
“He dresses weird, old looking clothes, no body dresses like that... and he’s scrawny, he seems to be anyway, I never got close to him. He really runs fast.”
 “You chase him?” I asked.
 Joe was uncomfortable. “Yes Sir, but like, it started out we were just curious and went to see him, he looked so weird... but he took off like a scared rabbit.”
 “You still chase him?”
 “Well, yeah, we sort of want to see him up close Sir. He does not come often but if we spot him... well, like we’re curious.”
 “Do you think he’s a Sec II?” I asked
“I don’t think so, they’re in the old building like us and we never see him there, so nope, I don’t think so. And he’s too small to be Sec III, IV or V.”
 “OK, fine Joe.. Listen Joe if you see that kid just leave him be will you. He is obviously scared.”
 “OK Sir! ...Sir, talk to Jimmy McGrandle, he says he almost caught him.”
I started laughing, “Jimmy McGrandle? I was in school here with Jimmy McGrandle when I was a kid. What a village! It must be Jimmy’s boy. Jimmy was fast too,” I said, 
 Ok, thanks again Joe, I will. You had better get back to class.”

The following week I got to speak to Jimmy. He told me his dad was in fact James McGrandle and that he had been transferred this summer to Quebec City... and yeah, his dad went to school here when he was small. I asked him about the chasings and his involvement.
“Yeah,” he said, “I thought I’d catch him ‘cause he headed for the sports supply room across from the stairwell but when I went in he wasn’t there.”
 “Where do you think he went?” I asked.
“Well there’s a door and a short stairwell that goes down from there but it was locked. I don’t know what’s down there.”
 “OK thanks Jimmy, tell your Dad I’m teaching here!”
 “OK Sir. Hey Sir, it smelled real earthy there.”
 “Earthy?” I asked “What do you mean earthy?”
 “I mean it smelled like earth, like mud when I went in there. I’m just sayin’.”
Not knowing what to make of that I again said goodbye and sent him on his way.
 I didn’t teach last period so after prepping for the next day I went and asked the Principal Mr. McKenna if I could borrow his master key. He said fine but to please get it back to him before I left that day. I headed for the place Jimmy was describing. I knew vaguely the school repairmen kept some hardware on site and had a bit of a workshop down there. I went down into the workshop and noticed a door on its south wall. Opening the door I was hit by what was indeed an earthy smell. I found a light switch within and turned it on. What lights came on were of transparent glass but the wattage was poor. There was a staircase of only four or five stairs to a lower level with an earthen floor. I explored. There was a long passage that ran south under equipment rooms off the high school gymnasium above. The passage way was about 12 feet wide with the school’s foundation to the left. To the right the earth rose up to leave a crawl space under the gym floor of about three feet. I went to the southern end of the passage that revealed great pipes and valves. Along the way there was a trap to one of the supply rooms above and a couple of boarded up windows in the foundation wall. 

I headed back from where I came, up the little flight of stairs to the workroom and back up to the first floor. I brought Mr. McKenna back the key and headed home. That night after supper and helping to get the kids to bed I decided to drop in on my mother who only lived a block away. When I got there I was soon telling her about my visit to the school’s lower regions. “Oh Joe, don’t be going down there,” she said, “It’s the old cholera cemetery down there. It’s not safe”. 
I just laughed and said, “Aw mom!”
She was right about the school having been built over the old cholera cemetery. It was part of the old graveyard that had served as the first St. Patrick’s Cemetery. My mother would have been only six when they dug the excavation for the old school. But she was 45 by the time they dug for the new school. She had heard about all the bones uncovered in 1955. The same had happened when they excavated to join the new and the old school with a wing in 1968.

I decided to go back a week later after hearing another teacher complaining about “a chase”. I went down, switching on the light and again noticed the earthy smell. I sat on an old wooden classroom chair that had ended up there and took the place in. I was thinking about the cholera epidemics that had struck Quebec as far back as 1832. They recurred five times including in 1854. Now talk about whistling in a graveyard, I had been half whistling Johnny’s Gone For a Soldier. All at once I thought I saw some slight movement in the dark area that shrank to a crawl space and the hair literally rose on my neck. The smell of earth was over-whelming and, believe it or not, I somehow saw a scrawny child in the gloom.
“Who are you?” I asked. 
 A little boy’s voice answered in a half-whisper, “Níl Béarla agam.” I knew this was Irish though I have very little Irish. It means I have no English. I was gasping.
 He repeated nil Béarla agam and added, “Siúil a Rún” or Shule Aroon, the old air behind Johnny’s Gone for a Soldier. My mind was spinning. My whistling the melody had brought him to me. He was only a wispy wraith in the gloom but the odor of earth was choking strong. I was amazed to find my teacher instinct greater than my fear. “Cad é do thrioblóid mo mhac?” I asked him. What is your trouble my son?
“Ba mhaith liom mo mháthair agus mo athair,” he answered. I want my mother and my father.
 I thought and then promised him, “Amárach.” Tomorrow.
 I knew he had to be a cholera victim. I imagined his parents had survived the epidemic. Their remains probably had been transferred to the mass grave in the new St. Patrick’s Cemetery in Sillery. I left quickly and yelled back from the top of the stairs, “Amárach, mo mhac, as grá duit,” Tomorrow my son, for love of you. 

My mother phoned that night and asked me if I was OK. She told me she had dreamt that I was a little boy again and it had frightened her.

The next day I went down with a shovel and plastic gloves to where the wraith had stood and in a little time I had uncovered the skeleton of a child and a few other bones for good measure. I put them in a plastic bag, took them out to St. Patrick’s Cemetery and buried them in the mass grave area. I made the sign of the cross and spoke it aloud in Irish.

“In ainm an Athar agus an Mhic agus an spioraid Naoimh. Amen.”

I have never told anyone this story before. Days after I re-buried the remains, I awoke one night from a dream. I can’t remember the dream other than hearing the air to Shule Aroon and a child saying, “ Go raibh maith agat. Tá síocháin agam anois. Mo ghrá thú.” Thank you. I have peace now. I love you.

Happy Halloween! Irish Heritage Quebec

Written by Joe Lonergan - administrator of Facebook site Irish Heritage Quebec
-reprinted here with permission

I posted a ghost story on my own Facebook page for Halloween. You may or may not want to read it. While is only a story, it carries a lot of factual of our local Irish heritage.

There was a great fear of contagion during the cholera epidemics that struck Quebec City in 1832, 1834,1849, 1851, 1852 and 1854. These carried off 8373 victims of all classes, creeds and ethnicity. A great many were Irish and those who were Catholic were mostly buried in St. Louis Cemetery illustrated here. It became St. Patrick’s Cemetery in 1856. In 1879 St. Patrick’s Cemetery between Grande Allée and what is now the north side of Maisonneuve was closed. There was an exhumation order to move human remains to 
the new cemetery in Sillery. My experience at St. Patrick’s School forces me to believe that at least in the case of the cholera section the order was not applied. In 1918 when the school and later extensions were built there were repeated disturbances of remains and some re-interment in the new cemetery. Inevitably some separation of family remains would have occurred when remains were transferred to the new St. Patrick’s Cemetery.

For the interested, one Irish superstition was that a spirit could not cross water. The old St. Denis stream and Belle Bourne Creek on the way and just before the new cemetery would have constituted obstacles. 

They are now only dry or damp ravines. If I could talk to Mary Lonergan, my great grandfather's aunt who died of cholera in July of 1854, I would say, “Ah there now Mary, sure isn’t there a bit of a bridge?” Her remains may actually still be in the schoolyard. Note the chol. for cholera in the margin of her interment entry. Note as well the John Fitzpatrick and Francois Nadeau who were present for the burial. I am not certain but looking at the 1852 and 1861 Census makes me assume that Fitzpatrick is the graveyard attendant and gravedigger while Nadeau made rough coffins. They are present at all the burials at St. Louis Cemetery in 1854.

May they all rest in peace wherever they are.

Friday, October 26, 2018

Fire at Hochelaga School

On February 26, 1907, fire broke out in the Hochelaga School on Prefontaine street. Sixteen young children perished in the fire, along with the school principal, Sarah Maxwell, who lost her life attempting to rescue many of the children. Names of the children are listed below.

The fire apparently broke out just before 2 p.m. and by 3 p.m. the bravery of some had resulted in most of the children being saved but tragically 16 children and their beloved principal Miss Sarah Maxwell - perished - leaving Montreal just reeling from shock.

It was  a 4 story building and the older children were on the bottom floors & the younger children were on the upper floors. The newspaper gives conflicting renditions... but it seems that there was smoke and that wasn't unusual as they had a faulty furnace. By the time anyone realized the danger, it was too late to get the children out.. as the stairwells were full of thick smoke. Miss Maxwell and the teachers herded the children back to the safety (?) of the upper room. 

Meanwhile there was an ice house almost directly across the street and the workers there saw the flames and ran to fire ladders - to reach the upper windows. Not enough ladders were found...but of the ones that were, the men were able to save many children, thanks to the fact that Miss Maxwell and the teachers..were lifting the children (6-8yrs olds) out the windows to the men. 

Though relatively young, this was an enormous feat on the part of these women as the children must have been heavy . One story says the fire dept only saved 2 children.. (didn't get there in time) and almost saved Miss Maxwell..but an explosion prevented that. Another story says Miss Maxwell just collapsed from fatigue. At least 50 children were saved.  -- 

The confusion that followed was "unreal" - as desperate parents arrived on the scene searching for their loved ones. Many had been taken to homes nearby and the bodies had been taken to the morgue. The newspaper had full coverage of the anguish (and in some cases relief) of the parents who feared the worst and later found their children alive. The inconsolation  of the parents who lost children is difficult to read.

Then followed a campaign (seems to have been the brainchild of the Montreal Star - but I've only looked at that newspaper.) They  asked children to send in their donations for a fitting "memorial" to Miss Maxwell.  I've found 13 "installments" so far and this certainly will interest all of you who had family in Montreal at the time... but I can't possibly type up all these names. The idea was (and here's where we come in) to help future Montrealers know the bravery of this one lady by making a "memorial" to her memory that no one could forget." 

Maxwell, Sarah school principal 
aged 31 (lived 479A St Urbain St with her mother)  

Anderson, James Frederick aged 6½ 
94 St Germain St 
only child of JF Anderson
Andrew, Annie Jackson aged 8  
dau/ Henry Jackson Andrew 
63 Cuvillier St  

Davey, Edna aged 5½ yrs,  
14 Marlborough St  
dau/ John Davey

Forbes, Cecilia aged 6  
59 Cuvillier St  
dau/ Thomas Forbes
Golson, Edith aged 6 yrs & 8 months  
311 Stradacona St,  
dau/o John Golson  

Hingston, Gladys aged 6 
dau/ Wm Hingston  
57a Rouville St

Jackson, Albert Edward aged 6  
of 22 Wurtele St  
son of John H Jackson
Johnson, Joseph aged 7 
424 Cuvillier St  
younger s/o Thomas Johnson  

Lampton, Ethel aged 5½ yrs 
dau/ George Lambton

Lindley, James Pilkington aged 6  
119 Alwin St, identified by father James Pilkington Lindley
Lomas, John aged 6  
s/o George Lomas 
111 Davidson St.
McPherson, James aged 7  
333 Prefontaine St. 
son/ James McPherson (nb: the school was on Prefontaine St)
Rich, Lillian aged 5  
28 Marlborough St.  
dau/ Harrison Rich 
identified by Thomas Williams
Spraggs, Mabel aged 3 
dau/o A Spragge, builder,  
1726 St Catherine St East

Spraggs, Myrtle aged 8 
dau/o A Spragge, builder,  
1726 St Catherine St East

Zimmerman, Wm John aged 7  
only child of W Zimmerman of 411 Alwin St
 - identified by father  

- courtesy Pennie Redmile

Friday, October 12, 2018

The Very First Irish Canadian?

In the 2006 census – about 4.4 million people in Canada described themselves as being of Irish origin. 350 years earlier, in 1663, the first census was held in the outpost of Ville Marie (modern-day Montreal). It listed 3035 residents. Among them was a man who became known as Pierre Aubry. However, his name on arrival in Ville Marie was not Pierre Aubry – it was Tadhg Cornelius O’Brennan. And Tadhg was the first recorded settler in the territories that later made up the modern state of Canada.

So, what brought Tadhg to this part of the world a full 200 years before many of his Irish Catholic neighbours?

Tadhg came from the O’Brennan families of north Kilkenny. As we discussed in The Tribes of Ireland book – they came from the old Irish tribal lands known as the Osraighe (Ossary) which covered most of modern County Kilkenny and part of south County Laois. The chief family of the area were the Fitzpatricks – but many “Tuatha” were governed by families such as the O’Brennans for hundreds of years.

However, by 1652, Oliver Cromwell had swept through the island in a brutal campaign which culminated in the “Act of Settlement”. This piece of legislation effectively confiscated the majority of Irish Catholic-owned land. Among the land affected was that belonging to the O’Brennans for hundreds of years previously.

The displaced Irish were give the choice to go “To Hell or to Connaught” – although many ended up as slaves in the West Indies – and over 30,000 ended up as soldiers in the armies of France and Spain, becoming the “Wild Geese” that we know today.

Tadhg O’Brennan was one of those who chose to join the armies of France at the age of twenty. He moved to the Celtic region of Brittany in Northwest France, and this was one the regions to supply soldiers and planters to the new colonies in North America.

Tadhg turns up near modern Montreal – in what was known as Ville Marie – for the first time in 1661. He is recorded as being in the employ of a local farmer, and we hear of him only because he was one of a number kidnapped by a band of Iroquois. He remained a captive from March to October and was one of the lucky few to escape with their lives. By the Ville Marie census of 1663, Tadhg had become known as “Thecle Cornelius Aubrenan“.

The same census recorded that while there were 1,293 single men in Ville Marie – Tadhg among them – there were only nine single women of child-bearing age. This prompted King Louis XIV of France to send on “les filles du Roi” (daughters of the King) to help the situation out a little. These “daughters” consisted of 770 women who arrived in the new colony between 1663 and 1673. In fact, more than 95 per cent of French-Canadians can trace their ancestors to women in that group. Naturally, this group also caught the attention of Tadhg.

Tadhg tried hard for seven years to win himself a bride from each new boat arrival of “les Filles du Roi” – but eventually realised that he needed to head downriver to Quebec City to increase his odds of success. This he did – and on July 31, he met Jeanne Chartier. Tadhg and Jeanne were married September 10, 1670. The newlyweds settled in what is now the island of Montreal, and had seven children – three girls and four boys. Four of the children died before the age of five. The last two girls, born in 1679 and 1681, died soon after birth.

Tadhg retired at the age of 51 and died four years later, in November 1687. He was buried in Pointe-Aux-Trembles under the name of Pierre Aubry and was survived by Jeanne and three of their children. We can guess that Tadhg lived a hard and uncertain life – far from all the familiar culture and people he knew so intimately up to the age of 20. He did what he could to survive and push ahead.

Louis Aubry, who kindly shared this story and the documents related to his ancestor Tadhg, points out that he now has 5600 descendants of Tadhg on his database living in North America. And I guess few realise that while many bear the surname Aubrey – they are descended from a man with one of the more common names in the north of County Kilkenny.

- reposted from A Letter from Ireland