One of the best things that happened to me this year was being introduced to a tight group that meets at a Toronto pub every Friday at five, for no particular reason apart from companionship and a pint.  These guys have been friends since their university days and they all have a good 30 years on me. Why they ever allowed me to crash their party, I’ll never know, but I shall be eternally grateful. Recently, it led me on one of the best trips of my life.

The pub club makes an annual pilgrimage to Bamfield, a remote “town” on the Pacific coast of Vancouver Island, accessible only by plane or boat (unless you’re OK with hours on end of logging roads).  Bamfield is home to one of the chief members of the group, the formidable John Evans -- the best story-teller I’ve ever met, a fantastic cook, and a magnificent host!  

I didn’t tell anyone this for fear I’d get uninvited, but I have had cook’s block for months.  I’ve had no desire to cook, no interest in talking about food, and no appetite. Well, they cured me in four days!  I followed John around the kitchen trying to write down everything he did (great tricks, like putting a big mint sprig into a pot of potatoes as they boil) and learning his signature recipes (Crab Louis, Apple Pie with Lard Crust and Candied Ginger…).  I cooked, too, because everyone loved eating so much and they were all such great conversationalists I found myself not just motivated, but blissed right out and in my element. Every night, I just wished dinner could last forever.

Now I am back in Toronto, hungry to work, to cook, to eat, to feed.  It feels like a miracle. All thanks to an accidental group of friends who have become my greatest inspiration. Pub nights resume this Friday…can’t wait!