Director's Notes
Welcome to September, quarter 4, the season of seasons and the final panicked rush of holidays!! Between back-to-school, holiday rushes, year-end deadlines swiftly approaching, take a moment to chill here and let us ramble at you about all kinds of stuff.
Congratulations to Boo1268 (talk) and Elemental Enemies for being voted as August's Critic Corner Section of the Month!! Be sure to give your love to all of our sections here, and give a shout out to our writers whether in chat or in their forum threads dedicated to their sections. Be sure to vote vote vote!
And now for my regular announcements: We've decided to implement in Critic Corner something similar to News Flush over in Fake News, where no formal sign-up application process is required for one-time or limited sections. From now on if you just want to send in a single review for something you just read, watched played, tried, whatever, you just have to send me your review privately either to me directly in chat, or in a message to me on the forum at least one week before each 'Shroom is to be released! There's no commitment or obligation to provide a full monthly section (although you absolutely can shift it into one if you so choose), just send us your thoughts on a thing and we'll feature it here! If you have any questions or curiosities about this, please feel free to ask!
As always, if you would like to help Critic Corner, we always have openings for more writers! You are free to write for sections such as Character Review and Movie Review, or really anything you'd like to do! There's no pressure to have a huge section; they can be shorter and concise! The application process is very simple, starting with reading the Sign Up page, and sending your application to Meta Knight on the forum. Any idea you have is welcome, and if you have any questions or need help signing up, please feel free to reach out to myself or other 'Shroom peeps!
Section of the Month
| CRITIC CORNER SECTION OF THE MONTH | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Place | Section | Votes | % | Writer |
| 1st | Elemental Enemies | 8 | 42.11% | Boo1268 (talk) |
| 2nd | A Look at Mario Enemies Lost to Time | 6 | 31.58% | Shoey (talk) |
| 3rd | Anton's Half-Baked Reviews | 5 | 26.32% | Hypnotoad (talk) |
Elemental Enemies
Hello there, readers of The 'Shroom. It is I, Boo1268 the Fancy Phantom, back here again with another edition of Elemental Enemies. This is the series where I look into the variety of big bads featured in Skylanders: Trap Team and see how these respective villains fit their types. As the cold winds of Fall (or Autumn if you prefer) begin to arrive there seems to be some sort of magic in the air, so today we will be covering both the air and magic villains.
(If you want to get to the explanations then please skip ahead, but to those who are new, let me give some context):
In Skylanders: Trap Team, the main gimmick was that using a special crystal insert and the respective crystal element, you could capture some of the villains of the game and play as them for a short period of time, and in the game, certain villains could only be captured with a trap of their element. So, being inspired by Lockston & Gnoggin’s Pokemon Type Explained videos, I am here to answer the question of how some of the villains fit into their respective element.
Now how this works is that we will be looking into what makes each villain their respective type. Things such as design, abilities, villain quests, lore, personality, etc. Each villain won’t go in any sort of order, but it tends to be that villains that most suit their type and have the most detailed explanation are at the top, and the villains that are the least connected, or more rather should NOT be connected (if specifically stated), go at the bottom. But now, with that out of the way, join me as I try my best to explain my reasonings.
Alright, let's get the good winds blowing in here with the air element first. And for this group, we have:
Dreamcatcher: Dreamcatcher is a giant floating head that can invade people's dreams (no duh), but besides the whole floating head thing, the thing that makes her an air villain is the symbolism behind her powers, since there's the common expression "having your head in the clouds" when referring to daydreaming, and when referring to a fluffy pillow it feels like you're sleeping on a cloud, and finally when referring to real life dreamcatchers, they like to use real feathers, which birds have.
Buzzer Beak: He's a bird with a propeller hat, what else do you want me to say?
Krankenstein: While he may be a wooden robot and his name refers to Frankenstein, which would imply that he could be an undead element, in truth Krankenstein has a humongous vacuum for an arm and can blow and suck things away with it (Don't take that out of context), and while his villain quest involves him helping make Wilikin soldiers, you can interpret it as him "breathing" new life into them, plus the original Frankenstein was created using electricity from thunder clouds which could also be a connection.
Bad Juju: This wild witch doctor has the ability to control air such as making tornadoes, hurricanes, sand storms, and summoning lighting, but only if she is located in the Golden Queen's army. But, her design also doesn't indicate that she's an air villain whatsoever. Plus, her magic aesthetic, watermancy, and relation to witch doctors and shamans makes her more inclined to being a magic villain.
Speaking of Magic, it's time for some mystical magic villains next! Thankfully though, this group is the SHORTEST out of all the villain groups. So for this group, we have:
Pain-Yatta: He's a living pinata that fires out candy at his foes and can magically summon living pinatas. In his villain quest, he protects geckos from monsters to deliver a song to the capybara king, and in his backstory he can create living candy, so yeah, magic.
Rage Mage: He's a mage who can magically buff his allies and can boost the Skylanders also, so yeah, he's a mage, plain and simple.
Bomb Shell: He's a turtle that throws bombs, so WHY IS HE A MAGIC ELEMENT VILLAIN!? HE USES BOMBS! Sure, you could make the case that he has magic bombs, but his mission involves him blowing up a fortress. So in short, Bomb Shell is the villain that should LEAST be a magic villain, and it kills me that he is labeled this way.
Well that's another set done, this one WAS a bit longer than expected, but hey, that's what happens when you do two elements together. But hey, at least we got to kill two birds with one stone, right? And speaking of killing, it's time to do the undead element next, since it IS the Halloween Special. But before that, thank you for all the support on the last issue. I'm really glad you enjoy this series, and if you have any opinions on these villains, don't hesitate to talk about it on the official/original thread, so until then, see you next time portal masters, and as always: Merci, au revoir!
Graphic Novel Review
| The Whyte Python World Tour | |
|---|---|
| |
| Author | Travis Kennedy |
| Release date | 2025 |
| Genre | fiction, thriller, comedy |
| Pages | 416 |
| Available From | |
Greetings, readers, and welcome back to a new edition of Book Review! This month, we will be taking a look at one of my summer reads, The Whyte Python World Tour by Travis Kennedy!
The Whyte Python World Tour was a book trip freebie pick mid-summer. I saw it on the shelf when I was coming down the escalator at Barnes and Noble, and after reading the summary, I thought it would be a great pick to read with my dad for a Father/Daughter book club. Let's jump right in, shall we?
Before we get started, I just want to provide a quick content warning: The Whyte Python World Tour features sex, drugs, and some violence. There's nothing too raunchy within, but please know what you're walking into before reading! Onto the review.
The Whyte Python World Tour follows Rikki Thunder, a drummer for the band Qyksand, a small indie band who are trying to make it big. They've played a couple of small club stages, but they're still nowhere near the rockin' fame of Led Zeppelin or The Who. One day, when handing out flyers for a show, Rikki meets Tawny, a gorgeous gal who promises to help him make it big. True to her word, the venue is filled with people as Qyksand plays, and soon, Rikki is given the opportunity to audition for the drummer position in the upcoming and hot band Whyte Python. Soon, he's living his rockstar dreams, playing massive shows with his new bandmates, hanging out with his girlfriend, Tawny, and bringing rock to the hearts of fans worldwide. But simmering in the background is the unrest of the end of the Cold War, and soon, Rikki is pulled into a plot that's bigger than even a sold-out crowd at Wembley Stadium...
Where to start with this one? I don't want to spoil half the plot for you, because WPWT is honestly one of the most fun reads I had all summer. This book is funny, y'all. Travis Kennedy mixes thriller aspects with satire, and this book had me laughing out loud and rolling my eyes with each chapter. Good satire, in my opinion, is enough to make you go "hmm, this is ridiculous, but I could see this happening" and also stare at the camera like you're in The Office, and this one nails both of those. The characters are ridiculous in the best way, and the 80s metal band era-setting feels just perfect for this wacky adventure. Kennedy keeps the plot moving, and I didn't want to put it down so I could go to work. I had a feeling about this book when I picked it up that I was either really going to like it or I was going to struggle to get through it, no middle ground, but I plowed through much faster than I was expecting. When the plot gets going, it doesn't stop, and when it follows different characters, it reminded me of John Scalzi's Starter Villain or When The Moon Hits Your Eye. You might not know everything about all of these characters (except for Rikki, our main character), but man, you know just enough to remember everyone and stay interested in what they're going to do.
I'll just talk about Rikki briefly here as well. I really like him as a main character, and I love his progression, because while he does go through a lot of change, he is still a good person at heart and he stays that way through the entire book. He cares about his friends and his bandmates, and while he does make me roll my eyes at some points, I don't think this book could have worked without him. If he was an unredeemable jerk, I wouldn't want to read about him, and if he was a spineless coward, he wouldn't be able to make it all the way through. Rikki feels very human, though- he has to go through A LOT in this book, and he's not always happy to be doing it. I think we can all relate to his struggles, especially when he finds out what's been going on in the shadows of backstage. A+ character building with Rikki Thunder!
The Whyte Python World Tour was a really fun read for me this summer, and I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who loves rock, spy movies, or satire. My music-loving Boomer dad also loved this book, so like The Making of Another Major Motion Picture Masterpiece, maybe this one could be a way for you to make a new connection with someone in your family as well. If anything, you'll have a rockin' good time jammin' out with Rikki Thunder!
That's all for me this month, readers! Tune in next time for a fresh Graphic Novel Review!
Written by: Fun With Despair (talk)
Art by: Hypnotoad (talk)
FWD Goes to Newfoundland
Have you ever been to Newfoundland?
If you’re a human being currently living on planet Earth, the answer is almost assuredly ‘no’ - which stands to reason. Being a small, remote Canadian province with a population of only 510,000 (smaller than a significant amount of regular cities in that regard, let alone provinces or states), little in the way of anything in the way tourism activities unless you have a proclivity for history, winters often plagued by three or more feet of snowfall, and an absolutely vast amount of completely empty land (largely in the ‘Labrador’ region, which I can only assume to be populated entirely by dogs), you wouldn’t be completely incorrect in saying that there’s little reason for, well, anyone to actually go to Newfoundland to begin with.
I, however, was largely undeterred and decided that I would go regardless.
The city in which I live is a far cry from the historic coastal N.L. capital of St. John’s. Located extremely far from any body of water save for a river, with very little in the way of meaningful historical buildings or even older houses, I suppose to an extent I yearned to, for once, see and experience something wholly new to me. A place that, unlike my home, did not sacrifice its history and character at the altars of steel and concrete. Plus, the plane ticket was cheap and I was bored. What can I say? Sometimes you just gotta take a random trip to the middle of nowhere. So I spent approximately four-to-five days in Newfoundland, aiming to experience what I could and avoid dying from exhaustion after an eight-hour-total overnight flight.
Did I succeed? Well, I’m here writing this, so really it’s about 50/50 on that front.
The Bagel Cafe
When I arrived in the city of St. John’s, I was honestly rather struck by the beauty of the place. I didn’t really think a place like this, one laden with vibrant greenery and buildings that had withstood centuries and still stood strong, could exist at all seeing as how all I’d ever really known were glorified parking lots. I was also, however, stricken by the reality that was nearly 36 hours without a wink of sleep - in no small part due to the fact that the particular model of plane in which I had flown here seemed to be purpose-built to provide passengers with absolutely nowhere remotely comfortable to rest their head.
Well, thankfully I was quickly able to stagger my half-dead self into a relatively notable local diner - The Bagel Cafe.
The Bagel Cafe, as the sign out front proudly proclaimed, was supposedly host to the best breakfast in St. John’s, and had won several awards to that effect. I had contemplated taking a photograph of that particular signage, however there was a family seated out front with two young children and while I am certainly some sort of weirdo, I am not that particular genre of weirdo and generally preferred to spend my first night here somewhere that was not either in a jail cell or hospital, as would surely happen were I seen taking photographs of young children. Instead, I went inside and found it to be a rather comfortable little place. There were two floors, and while the first floor was startlingly dim in terms of lighting for a breakfast joint, I was seated in a small little booth in a bright corner in the upstairs area, so I never found this to be much of a hindrance. The serving staff were quite friendly on the whole - though there was quite a wait for my menu to be brought to me - and I sat and sipped my coffee (which I desperately needed) as I I scanned their repertoire. My eyes were immediately drawn to something labeled “Fish and Brewis”, which upon a quick search appeared to be a traditional Newfoundland dish featuring cod and hardtack mashed together in a bowl with some vegetables and whatever on god’s green earth “Pork Scrunchions” were supposed to be.
Cheese Bagel
This, I thought, would be a hell of a jumping-in point; so I placed my order, only to be told that they were out. Out of what ingredient, I didn't know, but I sighed, rolled my eyes, and instead ordered the Fresh Fruit Crepe and one of their signature bagels - a cheese bagel, with some simple butter. I had thought to myself that if the ‘Bagel Cafe’ were to live up to either its name or the ‘Best Breakfast’ thing, surely they would at the very least have to have a good bagel - and thankfully, I was pleasantly surprised. I don’t really know what I expected, probably the same kind of cheap, overly-dense sort of cheese bagel you’d buy for under a dollar each at the grocery store, but this was clearly both made in-house and of an extremely high degree of quality.
It wasn’t just topped with cheese, but the cheese was woven throughout and the entire package was dusted with some sort of salty, breadcrumb-esque substance that lent a very nice texture to the experience. It was also the cheapest thing on the menu by far, at somewhere around $2 - which is actually cheaper than getting a bagel at some generic fast food breakfast places like Tim Hortons. I’m glad I went with just the butter, because I feel as though cream cheese would have made the whole thing somewhat suffocating rather than the pleasant, light snack it ended up being. Nothing revolutionary, but maybe the best bagel I’ve eaten.
Fresh Fruit Crepe
The Fresh Fruit Crepe however was just massive. It doesn’t really come across in the pictures, but if you’ve ever been to a Mexican place and ordered the largest size of burrito on offer, that’s about where the Fresh Fruit Crepe was at - particularly because there were two of the things when I had only really planned for one.
Ostensibly, it was good, very good even - but simultaneously cloyingly sweet and rich. Garnished with granola and yogurt, it was as the name said, stuffed with fresh fruit, custard, and whipped cream. This is a combination that I find little I can really complain about on paper, but one that I sadly found myself getting very sick of by the halfway point and had to struggle to finish, which didn’t make me feel very good after the fact. This may have been a consequence of the sorry state I found myself in after an all-night flight, but I just did not have the appetite for this thing. It’s rare that I find myself wishing for a dish I’d purchased to be smaller, but in this case that certainly rang true. Had it been the size I’d expected at first, I think I would’ve walked out of the Bagel Cafe with a great appreciation for the Fresh Fruit Crepe, but there’s only so much fruit and cream that one man can eat - and that number totals up to significantly less than they served me.
Cojones
After that, I pretty much just staggered back to my hotel and collapsed in bed. Sleep deprivation was hitting me like a large hammer and I was starting to see things. My face would shift and warp when I looked in the mirror, I could barely feel my limbs, and Hollow Knight Silksong had just come out so I wanted to play a bit of that too. I think I did, but my only record of that is a variety of posts about the experience on the internet and not any concrete memories within my own head.
At some point I stirred from this half-delirious nap and found myself hungry yet again but unwilling to go for yet another trek out into the wild to find anywhere charming and local. Instead, I went to a restaurant built into my hotel - in no small part because of the name: Cojones.
For the Spanish-impaired among us, Cojones, quite literally translates to ‘Testicles’. I was presented, at that moment, with the opportunity to eat at what appeared to be some sort of Mexican-themed bar, in perhaps the furthest place both culturally and geographically from Mexico that I was able to get while remaining within North America, with a name that essentially meant ‘Nutsack’. Wonderful. I supposed that I was tempting fate with the decision to stop here, but fate was not the one in control here and I am significantly less competent than the whims of destiny by every single metric, so Cojones it was.
It was a nice night, so I elected to sit out on the patio rather than inside - though that decision was partially informed by the fact that the inside appeared to look like just about every other modern bar or pub with almost nothing unique about it whatsoever. When I was given the menu, I discovered very quickly that the selection here was just utter crap with few redeeming qualities. The drink menu was pretty sad, serving exclusively Corona; a drink that I knew tasted nearly exactly what I imagined that stale piss would taste like were it to be ran through a Sodastream, and the food options did not appear to be much better. It was largely what you would expect from a place like this, some generic pub food, a few different tacos you could mix or match, and absolutely nothing that contained even an ounce of any local flavor or charm.
Birria Burger
The most notable thing I’d been able to dredge up from the depths of mediocrity here appeared to be the “Birria Burger”, which if nothing else seemed to be something I had not eaten or seen elsewhere. “Birria”, upon a moment of cursory investigation, appeared to be a Mexican dish consisting of shredded meat - often lamb or beef - served and cooked within a flavored broth. How exactly does this translate to a burger? Well, the answer is that it didn’t really. Not in any way that meshed together into a cohesive dish. It did, as the moniker would suggest, contain a significant quantity of shredded, marinated beef - though this was slapped atop what appeared to be two thin, once-frozen patties and placed between two halves of a perfectly generic roll. The broth as well, certainly existed, but it was relegated to a small bowl on the side within which you were intended to dip the “burger”. I figured I’d engage this on its level here and give it a shot, and the rest was… something that was both passable and deeply wrong, filling me with some degree of dismay once I realized that this would be far superior without the regular hamburger patties. They were a redundancy, a complexity added to what was otherwise a perfectly passable beef dip that served only to add some bland, slightly chewy filler to the sandwich. The plot was lost here, but the broth and the shredded meat together were pretty good in all honesty. The broth wasn’t entirely the sort of cheap soup-mix-spawn that I had expected, instead being rich, flavorful, and filled with spices and onion that did genuinely serve to augment the thing.
The problem, of course, is that this was simply too little, too late. You can, of course, put lipstick on a pig, and arguably this particular pig was at least somewhat easy on the eyes to begin with - but it was still a pig. If you take a sandwich that only starts half-good, there’s very little that sauces and gimmicks can realistically do to elevate it before slightly-above-half-good, so there we go.
As for the fries, I have little to complain about. They were crispy, they were salty, and while the full-length ones quickly gave way to a bunch of small bits collected at the bottom, they were serviceable. Corona, however, still tastes like old piss.
Signal Hill Visitor Center
Afterwards, I collapsed once again and this time slept through the night. I needed the sleep too, because I had decided to dedicate the next leg of my journey to what could only be described as a bit of a physical challenge.
Following his recommendation, I ordered the Mango Gelato and the Lemonade Iced Tea. While I wouldn’t claim either of these to be some icon of Newfoundland culture, everything here was handmade so I figured it was about as authentic as I was going to get at the moment.
Mango Gelato
The Mango Gelato, first of all, did not taste remotely of mango. This could be a positive if you aren’t fond of mango, but I ordered it in part because I am fond of mango and I wanted what it said on the tin. The closest descriptor I really have for the flavor was somewhere along the lines of a watered-down orange smoothie. I’d thought for a sec that they’d actually given me an orange flavor by mistake because both mango and orange are, well, orange. This was not the case. They did not have an orange flavor. The texture made up for it to an extent, it was a remarkably light and fluffy gelato that made me feel as though I was instead scooping up bits of a cloud and shoveling them into my mouth as I struggled to retain moisture.
Lemonade Iced Tea
The Lemonade Iced Tea, generic as though it may be, was much better. I can’t really tell whether it was just really what I wanted and/or needed at the moment, or if it genuinely was as good as my fevered mind thought it was - but if I was afforded the opportunity and graphic to do so, I would be giving this thing an instant 5/5 on the Rehydrated Anton Meter. It was sweet, but not too sweet. Tangy, but not a mouth-puckering sour. It was much closer to a pink lemonade than a proper traditional lemon iced tea, but I wasn’t complaining. I owed my life to this thing.
Oh, and the tables here were all labeled with various fun ‘Newfoundland slang’ - though there was not a single point during the entire trip where I heard anyone actually say any of this stuff. A shame.
Fish and Chips
Alright, I’m gonna lump these together here now, because something I learned very quickly in Newfoundland is that 99% of available dishes at any given restaurant, pub, or unspecified middle ground consist entirely of variants of fish and chips. It is truly inescapable. Despite my genuine best efforts, fish and chips is what lay before me at every turn. Cod is, of course, something the province is best known for next to the funny accents and the big black dog with the jowls, and like it or not, it was my destiny.
I didn’t go in with the intent to try about four different fish-and-chips adjacent meals, but that was just how things worked out.
Yellow Belly Brewery - Salt and Vinegar Fish and Chips
Despite the massive uptick in exercise, I actually felt much better about venturing off somewhere nearby for food compared to the previous night. Physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation are very different beasts, and in this case the beast required sustenance. A few blocks down, located with a very old looking building, was a place known as the Yellow Belly Brewery. I liked the vibe, I liked the aesthetic. It seemed comfortable, it was happy hour, and it wasn’t terribly busy, so I sat down. This time, I actually did mean to order fish and chips, and I did so while listening to a large man with a thick accent next to me at the bar ramble to his friend about how the voice actress for Bart Simpson had apparently died. After a quick google search borne of my own curiosity, I informed him that she was not dead at all, at which point he nodded, thanked me, and proceeded to instead ramble about how Pamela Anderson was apparently still hot. I didn’t care enough to verify this one. Sorry.
There were two variants of fish and chips on the menu, as well as a cod sandwich. They didn’t have anything that stood out beyond that, largely just seeming to serve generic pub food in the absence of cod.
Over the course of my stay, I had all three - but that night, I had the Salt and Vinegar Fish and Chips. They were, in a word, sublime. The menu wasn’t particularly specific about what the salt and vinegar in this instance really meant in terms of how they would be utilized in the dish, but I found upon taking a bite that the breading itself - a crispy, delectable breading - was in and of itself set with salt, vinegar, and seasoning. Oftentimes when eating fish and chips, I’m a tartar sauce enjoyer. I didn’t need any sauces for this. I didn’t need anything. It stood alone, resolute and powerful among chips that were every bit as excellent as the main course. It was just as well, because tartar sauce cost two dollars. Either way actually set a pretty unfair standard going forward, because these were by far the best thing I’d had for the entire duration of the trip and that would sadly remain the case until the very end. These actually made me question why this style of batter wasn’t a more common trend with fish and chips, before I came to accept the sad reality that people here would probably just cock the whole thing up even if they tried.
I also made an effort on a different day to try their regular, non-salt-and-vinegar Fish and Chips. Unfortunately, as expected, these were kind of just a blander, less exciting version of the ones I had earlier. Still good, still textured with light, flaky batter - but I ended up spending two dollars on the tartar sauce. Bastards.
Yellow Belly Brewery - Cod Sandwich
On my way home, I came across a second Yellow Belly in the airport, laid into a rather cool alcove done up to look exactly like the side of the building of the one in town. The airport didn't have much else in the way of actual options, so I went with old reliable. While I was here, I ordered the Cod Sandwich because I was hungry and at this point I was really sick and probably needed some food. Is this technically fish and chips? Not really. But there is fish, and there are chips. So I’m lumping it in with the other Yellow Bellies for the hell of it. This one was not as good as either of the other two cod dishes I had from them. The “patty” here wasn’t crisp and flavorful like the fish and chips, but instead rather watery with a disappointing texture while also being a very poor shape for the bun. The chips were still good though, and in complete fairness, this was the airport location. I’m not gonna give the Yellow Belly Brewery too much flack for this one, it might’ve been significantly better if I wasn’t eating at the sort of place that maybe the least amount of people ever give a shit about working at.
The Ship - Pan Seared Cod with Pork Scrunchions
The last place I went for fish and chips (though this time not intentionally) was in a very interesting location, a downright ancient pub only accessible through a somewhat alleyway. Calling itself The Ship, this at least mostly seemed to be the most “Newfoundland-y” place I’d been able to go. The menu actually had something bizarre on it, the place was dark as hell, and the wait staff and bartenders all spoke with thick, nigh-incomprehensible accents. Browsing the menu, my eyes spied an entry for Fishcakes with Mustard Pickles. Now, I’ve had mustard pickles and they’re really about what you would expect. Pickles that have been pickled in mustard. Not mustard seed, but like the literal condiment.
They’re not bad, but they’re an acquired taste - as I am sure this dish would be. I ordered it, and was promptly informed that they were entirely out of fishcakes. Awesome. I did not expect fishcakes with mustard pickles to really be a big seller, but what do I know?
Instead, I settled for the Pan-Seared Cod with “Pork Scrunchions”. This was a twofold choice: first of all, the rest of their menu seemed to be largely fish and chips so therefore a simple pan-seared fillet would actually be something different, and I had no idea what in the hell a pork scrunchion was. When this arrived at my table, I realized, horrified… that I was looking at fish and chips. Son of a bitch. They said originality was dead, but this was something else man. Not only was it just fish and chips, but it was, for the most part, significantly worse than both previous offerings I’d tried by this point.
It was a bit of a shame, because I really dug the atmosphere of The Ship, but much like the cod sandwich, this was watery and a bit sad. What surprised me though, was that the Pork Scrunchions were easily the best part of the dish and a surprisingly good addition to fish and chips on the whole. While “Scrunchion” sounds like some manner of horrible offal meat, in reality a pork scrunchion is mostly just bacon. Particularly the fatty parts that actually contain most of the flavor, fried up and scattered atop the cod. The Scrunchions are the only thing actually saving this from the depths of hell, so congratulations Newfoundland. Close one.
Screech Rum
I stopped by a liquor store on the way back to my hotel room because naturally, I wanted a drink while playing Silksong for the evening. As everyone knows, alcohol only improves performance in tough-as-nails high-coordination platformers. While there, I came across a Newfoundland classic - one I’d heard of before and figured would be easy enough to try as it didn’t really require much of me.
Screech is a brand of spiced rum that is practically synonymous with Newfoundland as a place. A tradition in Newfoundland is for someone to be ‘screeched in’ when they move to or visit the island - meaning they are made to take a shot of Screech, kiss a fish, and recite some Newfie slang-ridden phrase like a drunken sailor chant to become an honorary Newfoundlander. I did not do this. I probably could have, but it seemed to be the kind of thing you have to book in advance and I didn’t really care that much. Still, ‘Screeching’ was advertised very frequently on the sides of random bars and other venues and I assure you that if I did want to kiss a fish, it would not have been hard to find a facilitator.
I went back to my hotel room, poured the rum into a paper cup, and drank it right then and there straight like an alcoholic degenerate. As the stories go, Screech originated as cheap liquor produced by scraping and soaking the dregs of a rum barrel in even cheaper liquor until something resembling rum by technicality remained. This was not that. Instead, this was a still somewhat cheap-tasting spiced rum that really wasn’t very different from the likes of a Captain Morgan. It was fine. I ended up buying a big bottle of Dr. Pepper to finish it up with the next day. I wouldn’t say that this particular hard liquor was good enough to really drink straight as any kind of beverage on its own, but it was enjoyable enough mixed - and I didn’t even have to kiss a fish for it. Instead, I sat, I drank, and I got ceaselessly and brutally murdered repeatedly by the “Savage Beastfly” boss.
Maybe the fish would’ve made better company.
Moose Burger
The next day, I awoke feeling terrible. Little did I know this would be an omen.
I had thought that maybe I had screeched myself a little too hard, but I was wrong. These aches and pains were instead the beginning whisperings of a sickness that would plague me for the next week or two. I blame the old guy behind me on the plane. The truth is, I was pretty mad about this because I really wanted to take advantage of my vacation here and spend more time just existing in this place, but there was little to be done about any of it. Sickness be damned, I hauled myself out to try a few more things before I collapsed into dust.
While my first experience with a burger in Newfoundland was strange to say the least, I’d noticed quite frequently that ‘moose burgers’ were a frequently advertised item at a variety of the bars I’d passed by. I’d never had moose, the closest I’d had was elk which largely, if I recall, tasted exactly the same as beef in nearly every way save for being a bit dry. I suppose the advertisements worked, because I was intrigued. Moose are fairly prevalent across the country, which made me really wonder why I hadn’t seen this before until Newfoundland, and why it was considered a Newfoundland thing to begin with. Well, I sat down on the patio of the least shitty looking place that seemed to be serving moose, and I pulled the trigger on it. One moose burger, coming right up.
Let me tell you, folks - I know why they don’t serve moose anywhere else.
Most of the burger was perfectly average, if relatively thoughtless and basic. Everything else was basically a boiled-down version of the most generic pub burger that it is possible to have - but the patty itself was… unpleasant. It was like beef, but only really on a technicality. It was gamey and odd, with a strange flavor that I can only really equate to the sort of strange flavor you find in the kind of cheap, frozen, Great Value-brand patties bought for a corporate barbecue. From what I could tell, this wasn’t the case with the moose burger because the patty at least did look somewhat handmade, but it left me with a constant feeling that I had completely wasted my money on a burger that I’d really be hard-pressed to take even if it were offered to me for free. It was moister than the elk I had long ago, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing when the moisture was in service of this.
The fries were fine, but not notably different from the Cojones’ ones. Very disappointed here. I’ll stick to animals that I know taste good from now on, thanks.
Ziggy Peelgood's Poutine with Traditional Newfoundland Dressing
Finally, on my way back to my hotel for the last time, I stopped at a food truck that I had seen in remarkable quantities around the city. “Ziggy Peelgood’s” seemed like it was somewhat of a local hit, claiming to serve Newfoundland’s famous fries since 1986. To be honest, I didn’t really think that felt like a terribly long span of time to be serving the supposedly famous fries. Sure, it was almost 30 years ago now, which I guess IS a long time - but when everything else had existed for a century or longer and both looked and felt the part, the mid-late 80s are not particularly impressive as a benchmark.
Their menu was about what you’d expect. Fries, fries, more fries, and a variety of poutine variants. If there’s anything people know about Canadian cuisine beyond the fact that our cuisine is near-identical to that of the United States save for our vastly superior version of A&W, it’s the existence of poutine. Crispy fries, garnished with gravy and cheese curds. It was a surprise that it wasn’t an American dish, as you’d think everything here would be something beloved by the people of the USA, but instead it stands as maybe the one thing Canada’s got going for it outside of maple syrup and… uh… I guess we’ll get back to that when I think of something else.
Most of the options even within the poutines didn’t speak to me - except one, which claimed to have ‘traditional Newfoundland dressing’ as a garnish. I hadn’t heard of this before, and I kind of expected the dressing to be like, a sauce. Maybe something like ranch or whatever the hell that British ‘salad cream’ stuff is. I didn’t really think this would be any good as far as additions went, but I was willing to suck it up for the sake of one last hurrah. Instead, I learned then and there upon receiving my resulting fry slop that this ‘traditional Newfoundland dressing’ was… Thanksgiving turkey stuffing. This added, as you might expect, absolutely nothing. A bunch of breadcrumbs on top, mostly.
With that being said though, the poutine still absolutely hit the spot. The best fries of my trip thus far, putting many of the fish and chips to shame in that regard - with gravy that was rich and flavorful. The cheese was melty in a very satisfying way, and I really enjoyed snacking on these as I headed back to down another cup of Screech and turn in for the night. 1986 might not’ve been that long ago on the grand temporal scale, but Ziggy’s had, for the most part, earned their fame in the here and now.
Conclusion
I was glad I was going home. Not because I missed the barren landscape from which I originated, or because I was tired of Newfoundland, but because I was sick as a dog. My head pounded, my throat felt like I’d gargled a cactus, and I deeply and wholeheartedly craved death with every fiber of my being. I still finished the Screech though, regardless of whether consuming hard liquor makes for a wise choice when sick. It cost me $20, I wasn’t about to throw it out.
And now I’m here. Writing this.
In some ways, I actually miss it there. It was pleasant and walkable, with boundless character and more small businesses than I’d ever seen in one place before. The people were friendly, if strange, and I felt as though there was much more to do and see, as though I’d only scratched the surface. Newfoundland as a whole gets kind of a bad reputation, seen as a backwater hellhole filled with people who talked like stereotypes - but that isn’t really the case. The majority of Newfoundlanders I ran into were just like anyone else, and it was clear that if nothing else, they valued their home and their history far more than many of us do. Some days, I find myself wishing I could go sit in the Bagel Cafe, and other days I think of the countless geneva convention violations I would commit if it ensured the construction of a Yellow Belly Brewery somewhere I could visit.
It wasn’t all bad though, leaving Newfoundland behind. For example, I could live happily knowing that at least nobody here was eating the moose burger of their own volition.
And at least here, I didn’t have to walk by this sign every day:
| The 'Shroom: Issue 222 | |
|---|---|
| Staff sections | Staff Notes • The 'Shroom Spotlight • Poochy's Picks • Credits |
| Features | Fake News • Fun Stuff • Palette Swap • Pipe Plaza • Critic Corner • Strategy Wing |