Rock Salt Restaurant, Fulford Harbour, Salt Spring Island

So, the advent blog challenge is over, Christmas is over and a New Year is upon us.  One thing I learned from posting daily is that I can keep writing if I do regularly, and it is an enjoyable exercise.  I gain something out of trying to express myself clearly, succinctly and trying to be interesting.  Even if its a better vocabulary and more being observant about the food I stuff in my mouth.

So, I agreed with Andrea (@RunnerChicWC on the Twitter) to go for on blog post a week.  Fifty-two entries, which is only twice as many as I have just done.  With much less time pressure, so hopefully a better quality of writing, and more on topic.  But I will let the dear reader be a judge of that.

We'll start with a recent New Year's trip to Salt Spring for some inspiration, and the firstly with the last stop there.  The Rock Salt Restaurant and Cafe.  Stuck right next to the ferry terminal at Fulford Harbour, this place has a great view down the inlet. Perfect for waiting to see your ship come in.  But no need to rush when it does steam around the corner... you've got twenty five minutes before it docks, to finish up pay, and walk the 100 yards to your car.

I'm guessing they do a great trade with the ferry riders.  They certainly took no time to serve us, and were quick and efficient at getting out coffee and taking our orders, despite thirteen of us arriving all at once.

The coffee was fantastic.  Maybe it was the fact it was New Years Day, when any coffee will taste great.  Or perhaps it was great coffee.  I suspect the latter, as there was not much of a hangover and just a little lost sleep.  I was fully awake having stupidly run into (and quickly out of) Cusheon Lake a couple of hours earlier.  My group was spread across 4 tables, but close enough to keep the conversation going, even more shocking as we'd had 3 days of each others company already.

Still food came out quickly. My Wild Benny was done perfectly.  Nice chunk of salmon, covered in the right amount of Hollandaise, with eggs medium.  Quivering brightly, just enough runny yolk to mingle with the bread and the lemony sauce.  The opposite of my long aversion to eggs-in-egg sauce which put me off benedicts for years. However, the side of home fries was a miss for me.  Stodgy lumps, neither crisp-fried, or boiled to a lovely moist consistency or roasted, or any of the ways I like my spuds.  Just sitting there.  Making weight. Slightly embarrassed to be there.

Still good coffee, good eggs, good view, good friends.  I'll take it as a good start to the new year.