Thank you for signing up to dinner document by Rebecca May Johnson! If you’d like to support my work, become a paying subscriber. Hello! My name is Rebecca May Johnson, I am a writer and cook and this is my Substack. This week’s newsletter is about a trip on a ferry from the UK to the Netherlands and eating notes. Canteen on the Stena Hollandica
After a five minute train journey from Harwich Town to Harwich International we arrive the ferry terminal at 9pm, the beginning of the window for checking in. We take a lift from the platform to a bridge over the tracks that leads into the terminal. The only other person in the large foyer area is a Dutch man with a bicycle who is trying to convince the woman at the desk to allow him to buy a ticket for this journey. She says he must wait for her colleague to see if there is space in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes? Thirty minutes. At the baggage security check point the man running things jokes to his colleague that he’s drinking gin from his large clear plastic water bottle and offers it to her; she says she doesn’t like gin. We are the only people going through the security for foot passengers. I have to take off my shoes as they set off the alarm. Unlike at an airport there are no restrictions on liquids such as shampoo etc in one’s luggage, and it is not necessary to take them out of the suitcase. Then we depart land by walking on to a glass-walled corridor suspended in the air between the terminal and the ferry, which allows us to note the large scale of the ferry, and the lorries and cars coming onboard below, and workers driving uncannily speedy luggage moving vehicles up and down a ramp. Onboard the Stena Hollandica for the first time – gleaming orange-beige wood effect veneer walls, gleaming chrome trim. Lots of staff are waiting to greet us and direct us to the lifts which take us to the floor where our cabin is.
When we arrive at the cabin, we open the door and directly opposite is a large porthole with an embedded window seat looking onto the water. It is still light at 9.15pm in late June and S immediately lies down on the window seat and looks out at the water. He loves window seats and – in a slightly anxious but enthusiastic manner – likes to monitor what is happening on airplanes and boats when in transit. There is a comfortable double bed with a single bed above it which I fold away. There is a TV and quite a large toilet/shower room, which smells of drains. I peer into the shower drain and see water glinting through the metal grille. I wonder at how each cabin must have its own draining and heating and air con system. The room itself does not smell and is a good temperature, cool but not cold. We are among the first to arrive in the canteen dining room, which is two floors below our cabin. The space opens-up expansively and red quilted pleather seats with chrome legs arranged around tables stretch out over what seems like acres of red pattered carpet and chrome pillars. The chrome and pleather is retro space-age glamorous. There are also two bars with beer on tap on opposite sides of the room. We begin to look at the canteen menu, then, at the suggestion of the host, we walk over to look at the à la cart restaurant, which is screened off, and has a menu for people to look at the entrance on a lectern-like stand at its entrance. I consider seabass, I consider risotto, I consider steak. But there is a minimum order of two courses, and it feels expensive at the beginning of the trip. Plus, all of the sea-view tables have ‘reserved’ signs, the atmosphere is a little too hushed, and the seating area is isolated from the people-watching fun of the main dining area. Moreover, I love canteens. When we return to the canteen a queue has formed. We each take a tray. The trays are plastic and dark brown with an almost adhesive rubberish surface added on – for rough seas, I suppose. I try not to think of that. The queue inches forward and we reach the refrigerated drinks cabinet and take Heineken beers and sparkling water. People ahead of us are ordering pizzas cooked in a series of mini pizza ovens behind the counter. They look like convincingly rendered versions of contemporary sourdough-type pizzas. Fish and chips with mushy peas which are attractively presented on a little metal tray with a piece of decorative greaseproof paper are also popular. Personally, I consider the fish, the ricotta and spinach cannelloni, and IKEA-alike meatballs with lingonberry jam and gravy and mashed potato, but settle on beef stroganoff with rice. I think that unlike fried fish which may become soggy from waiting to be served stroganoff might improve with a long resting time – a dish suited to a canteen. I decide against the meatballs as I intend a visit to IKEA soonish. The man serving me dishes out a generous portion of stroganoff and rice and then turns to the garnishing section, where he picks up parsley and sprinkles it over, and adds a handful of sliced gherkins to the plate. S has the same as me but with chips instead of rice: always a hard decision to make. We sit on a table one back from the sea view seats, which have been claimed. The parsley is aromatic and truly fresh cut, the gherkins crisp and sharp, and the meat is soft, with a richly flavoured sauce. I add a sachet of sambal oelek which is provided alongside ketchup and mayonnaise at the cutlery station for a bit more heat and seasoning. Around us people of all ages eat pizza, drink beer and wine, hunch round tables to chat, and take a look around at the room. There are various announcements over the tannoy about the truckers’ canteen, which is located elsewhere on the ship and to which other passengers are not invited.
After a few rounds of a card game for which I have to look up the rules – ‘Golf – we go outside and climb several sets of stairs to go to the highest viewing deck. We are high up, alongside the huge red chimney emblazoned with an ‘S’, lit by floodlights. The ship sets off at 11pm and moves out of the Stour River to the estuary where the Stour joins with the Orwell River and flows out to sea. We glide past Felixstowe docks and get a close view of lorries driving up and down the quay loading containers on and off ships and then we reach the end of land and set out to sea on a path lit by red and green channel buoys that wink in the darkness. Back in the cabin S sits on the window seat and looks out at seagulls diving into the ship’s wake, hunting for fish. Eating Notes The day time before we catch the evening ferry: wonderfully crumbly scones with cream and jam at Felixstowe Book Festival made by the mother of novelist Ruth Dugdall who chaired the talk about my book. Ruth’s mother asked a question: do I listen to music while cooking? I said yes and asked her if she did and what she listened to and she said: ballads by Alison Moyet, Barbara Streisand, and Rod Stewart.
Breakfast on the ferry. I didn’t feel like an egg so had some jam and cheese and chocolate spread and Dutch chocolate sprinkles and a mix of grapefruit and orange juice.
Bitterballen in in the centre of Amsterdam: breadcrumbed balls with small pieces of meat in a bechamel. Dipping in the mustard. Very hot, very nice!
A sparkling blackcurrant Fanta in a glass bottle at a cafe. I loved this flavour.
Indonesian takeaway picnic in the park in Amsterdam with Hannah and Tom on Hannah’s beautiful blanket. It was delicious. Cassava chips with peanut sauce, lamb curry and a hard boiled egg and green beans with roti, chicken skewers with peanut sauce and pickled cucumber salad, stuffed rice with a sharp hot sauce.
News and EventsIn the last fortnight two long form reviews of my book Small Fires were published. Being read in this attentive, sustained way is the greatest honour. Marion Bull for n+1 Siobhan Phillips for LA Review of Books On 19 July at 6pm EST I am in conversation (online) with Alicia Kennedy hosted by Bold Fork Books. I am very excited about speaking to Alicia, whose book No Meat Required is out in the US on 15th August. Subscribe to her newsletter for brilliant, deeply researched weekly essays about every facet of food imaginable, and much besides. On 17 August I am in conversation with Nyla Ahmad at the Edinburgh Book Festival about Small Fires - tickets are now for sale! You’re a free subscriber to dinner document by Rebecca May Johnson. For the full experience and to support my work, become a paying subscriber. You can buy my book Small Fires, An Epic in the Kitchen here (UK), or pre-order (US) for June 2023.
|
