I WAS on American television the other night (story below), and on Radio
Ulster the same week, which is remarkable only insofar as I usually break
out in an anxiety rash at the very sight of a microphone.

I told Jackie Neill, the super-efficient producer of The Saturday Magazine,
that I was due to undergo surgery for skin cancer a few hours after making
the recording for her programme. She didn't believe me when I confessed it
was the prospect of stumbling over my script in the studio that had given me
a sleepless night - not the prospect of the surgeon's scalpel. But it was
true.

The reason why I agreed to broadcast a Column for her excellent lifestyle
programme (hosted by that laid-back maestro of the mic, John Toal), was to
promote something I passionately believe in - our traditional markets.
I love the great crack and fresh produce on offer in Farmers' Markets from
Dungannon to Newtownards and I wanted to do my wee bit to ensure that they do not go the way of Bangor Market. This is a pale shadow of the vibrant

event that used to energise the town every Wednesday; the remaining stalls
have now been relegated to one corner of the Safeway car park which replaced
the market square, and the crowds have - unsurprisingly - drifted away.
Thankfully, it's a different story at St George's Saturday Market in
Belfast. This has recently been enjoying a remarkable new lease of life
since the City Council has caught itself on and started to promote it
properly, as a permanent weekly Food and Garden Market.

In previous years they made a hames of it. They held it every OTHER
Saturday, but this confused people and few of them bothered to find out on
which dates it actually opened.
Customers like the sensible new Saturday opening hours from 10 until 4, the
free bus service from the City Centre, the complimentary car parking
vouchers and, particularly, the huge increase in the number and diversity of
stalls.
Where else can you buy smoked seaweed - the dulse is smoked in West Belfast
where the smoking of other exotic substances is not unknown - Giant's
Causeway cheese, French crepes and South African flowers as well as live
lobsters and big prawns from Ardglass - all inside an award-winning
architectural treasurehouse which cost millions of Lottery money to
refurbish?
I never thought I'd ever complain that there were too many other customers.
Until the other day, that is. There wasn't even one wee corner of a table in
the crowded grazing area for me to put down my paper cup of boiling coffee.
While my right hand blistered with heat, my left held a rapidly cooling
Organic Ulster Fry. When I eventually stole a seat, I couldn't taste if the
congealed fried egg was free-range or not; maybe I shouldn't have dunked it
in the hot coffee to warm it up...
Anyway, I've met up again with some of my favourite stallholders. I always
greet Julie behind the Moyallon meat and game counter with the quip: "Is
your venison DEER today"? And I'm working on a really 'corny' joke for the
family from Millview Farm. They grow supersweet corncobs and sell them hot,
smeared with butter. A-maize-ing!
Monster crab
THE huge new banner outside St George's Market displays a big crab with the
slogan: "Snap Up a Bargain".
So I took the advice to heart and snapped up a truly gigantic fresh crab
for a fiver from the Silverfin Sea Fisheries shellfish display. If you think
that was expensive, let me tell you it weighed six pounds nine ounces.
That's a respectable weight for a new-born babe, except that instead of tiny
toes, this monster had pincers the size of Wayne McCullough's boxing gloves.
In France, I swear it would have cost about 50 euros, but I got it cheap
because it scared every other customer.
As she wrestled the giant into her biggest plastic bag and tied it securely,
Leeann, the pretty fishmonger from Killough, warned me: " Watch out for
those sharp claws; they're the most dangerous we've ever seen."
As I carried the sea-monster back home followed by five stray cats and a
labrador bitch, I contemplated how to cook a crab as big as a bin-lid when
your largest pot can just about cope with a scrawny supermarket chicken.
Also, If you've ever boiled an ordinary crab, you'll know how messy and
scummy it can be.
Inspiration hit me - the microwave. I put a couple of holes in the plastic
bag and set the whole package onto the revolving plate. Fifteen minutes
later the crab had been steamed to perfection and was transferred to our big
turkey plate.

What a feast. It took four seafood enthusiasts a full hour to extract every
morsel at a memorable Sunday lunch. And, since we were armed with
nutcrackers and a builder's hammer, the 'crack' was great!
TV fame at last
I WAS filmed in Belfast a while back for an American TV documentary series
about the social history and musical heritage of The Appalachians, the
legendary mountain range which runs parallel to the Eastern Seaboard through
13 states from Maine to Georgia.
Regular readers will know that I love this wonderful region and have written
often in these pages about my travels through Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia,
the Carolinas and beyond.
My contribution to this four-hour, two-part blockbuster which was made for
screening this Fall on the nationwide Public Television Service in the US
(UK showing dates are being scheduled) was to talk about the enduring
influence of the early18th Century pioneers from Ulster on Appalachian life
and culture.
Indeed, as is my wont, I warmed to my theme and spoke at length about the
impact on every aspect of American life of these hard-working, ambitious,
stubborn, Ulster-Scots and their 25 million descendants.
For some reason the producer, West Virginia-born Mari-Lynn Evans, liked what
I had to say and asked me to write a chapter for the book which accompanies
and complements the series.
This beautifully produced and lavishly illustrated coffee-table volume is
entitled The Appalachians: America's First and Last Frontier. It arrived the
other day and I was flattered by the prominence given to my essay,
"Appalachia's Scots-Irish Ancestry", and the photograph of me leaning
precariously against Davy Crockett's log cabin in East Tennessee.
The cabin is 200 years old, unfurnished, and slightly smaller than my garden
shed, but thousands of people make the pilgrimage to David Crockett State
Park every year. Many are disappointed to discover that, contrary to the
Disney movie song, Davy was not "born on a mountain-top in Tennessee, killed
his first bear when he was only three". In fact, his birthplace was a flat
field and he was five before he shot the bear.
Other contributors to the 252 pages include Senators, historians and
photographers who are famous in America, plus the internationally revered
Johnny Cash. The late, great star of modern country music wrote a memoir for
the book just before he died about his association with the Carter Family
(he married June Carter). Country music fans will know that the Carters were
the first C&W band to bring Appalachia's folksongs of Scottish/Irish/English
origin to worldwide popularity.
Although it is published by Random House in the USA at 30 dollars, I was
able to get extra copies of the book from www.amazon.co.uk for around £15
each. Amazingly, they were delivered within a week!
As I shall not earn an extra cent from royalties, you can be guaranteed that
I am recommending this superb collection TOTALLY IMPARTIALLY to all who
appreciate the music, history and culture of the American frontier.
Art of the Mournes
TALKING of books about mountains, I was delighted to see that a softback
edition is available of Blackstaff Press's beautiful book on The Mournes by
my old friend and journalistic colleague David Kirk.
With its breathtaking photography and enlightening text, it is one of the
best-ever books on the natural history of Northern Ireland.
It actually has been available for a while in this more affordable edition,
but I saw it for the first time in my Leisure Art class just the other day.
The course tutor Linda Murray is a highly accomplished painter who has used
one of David's stunning pictures of Slieve Donard as the inspiration for a
highly textured landscape painting which is now on show in the restaurant of
Bangor Heritage Centre. I may even buy her painting as a Christmas prezzie -
unless David gets there ahead of me after reading this!
Brighten up your winter
DO NOT miss the Art of the Garden exhibition at the Ulster Museum. Since
being transplanted direct from London's Tate Britain last month, it has been
cheering up the local Green Fingered Brigade with its scores of great
gardening artworks by British and Irish artists. It runs throughout the
winter until the first snowdrops pop up their heads in the adjacent Botanic
Gardens at the beginning of February. I have been twice already and intend
to return to pick some more floral favourites.
Dear, oh dear
ONE OF my pet hates is the overpriced food and drinks in airports. So it was
nice to discover that the newish Boots branch in the Departures area of
Belfast International had a three-item Meal Deal for just £2.99.
I enjoyed a delicious, well-filled Crayfish and Rocket sandwich plus a
generous portion of Iced Carrot Cake, accompanied by a fresh fruit smoothie.
Good value or what?
As I had stumbled upon this special offer by accident while browsing for
batteries, I asked at the check-out why the Meal Deal wasn't promoted at the
entrance, as in other Boots branches, so that families, students and canny
travellers liked me could be made aware of the bargain.
"You may well ask," I was told. "We had to take the sign down because other
food outlets complained that we were selling meals too cheap and it was
affecting their business."
Unbelievable. If any spokesperson from the outlets concerned would care to
call or email me to justify their complaint against what my readers would
regard as fair competition, I will be happy to outline their case in this
column...
Beyond Bath
WHEN I reported on the beauty of Bath recenty, I didn't have space to
recommend the city as a great touring base for the Cotswolds and the Mendip
Hills.
These are two areas of outstanding natural beauty dotted with picturesque
villages which have quaint names straight out of a Miss Marple detective
story. We travelled on wiggly roads from Dunkirk to Pennsylvania in a few
minutes and took in Temple Cloud, High Littleton and Peasedown St John.
WESTONBIRT Aboretum, 40 mins north of Bath, is the venue of the annual
Festival of the Garden - a May-Sept showcase of cutting-edge garden design
exhibits, some of which make TV's Dairmuid Gavin's creations look positively
old fashioned! Ulster's Green Fingered Brigade will also love the terraces
of Peto Garden at Iford Manor, the herbaceous beds at Dyrham Park and the
landscaping of Prior Park.
WELLS is a real eye-opener - England's smallest city is, in fact, a
delightful little town totally dominated by a mighty Cathedral and Bishop's
Palace. Amazing.
BRADFORD ON AVON is a picture postcard village with a wonderful museum and
The Bridge - the world's oldest tea room (1675) with superb pastries (at a
price).
CHEDDAR GORGE is the famous landmark where I picnicked on the local
gum-tingling cheese which was first made near here.
BY JOHN TREW