From the Pantry Shelf
Some weeks you plan your meals.
Other weeks the pantry looks back at you and says, “You’ll figure it out.”
That’s when the real cooking happens — the kind that starts with a rummage, a sigh, and the quiet hope that there’s still a can of something useful on the back shelf.
This Week’s Recipe: Pantry Fish Cakes
Fish cakes are what happened when there wasn’t quite enough of anything, but too much pride to complain about it.
They were never fancy, never written down, and never exactly the same twice — just filling, comforting, and reliable.
Ingredients
2 cups cooked fish (salt fish, cod, haddock, or whatever white fish you have)
2 cups mashed potatoes (leftovers are perfect)
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 egg
2–3 tablespoons flour (as needed)
Salt and pepper, to taste
A pinch of summer savoury or parsley (optional, but appreciated)
Butter or oil for frying
Instructions
Flake the cooked fish into a bowl, checking carefully for bones.
Add the mashed potatoes, chopped onion, egg, salt, pepper, and herbs if using.
Mix gently until combined. If the mixture feels too loose, sprinkle in flour one tablespoon at a time until it holds together.
Shape into small patties — not too thick, not too thin.
Heat butter or oil in a frying pan over medium heat.
Fry fish cakes until golden brown on both sides, about 3–4 minutes per side.
Serve hot, with tea, ketchup, mustard, or whatever’s within reach.
Pantry Tip: If the mixture feels stubborn, let it rest for 10 minutes before frying. Even fish cakes need time to gather themselves.
Kitchen Story: The Margarine Tin Incident
Every Cape Breton kitchen has a margarine tin.
And every one of them lies.
You open it expecting cookies and find sewing supplies. Or nails. Or buttons from coats that no longer exist.
The real surprise is when it actually does contain cookies. That’s how trust gets broken for life.
The rule is simple: never open a margarine tin with hope. Hope has no place there.
Community Corner
This week’s note comes from a reader in Glace Bay:
“My grandmother never measured a thing. She’d say, ‘That’s enough’ and somehow it always was. Except the squares — there were never enough squares.”
If you have a kitchen memory, saying, or long-standing food rule, we’d love to hear it. Some of the best recipes never get written down — they just get remembered.