Here I am in St Andrews again. This is the picturesque coastal town in Canada’s New Brunswick province where we spend a few weeks every other summer. The weather has been lovely, especially after England’s cold, rainy summer. Apart from admiring the views, reading and writing, I often find myself in the kitchen. This time, though, we have had Ned, my step son-in-law, here for our first few days. Ned is an excellent cook, and I have enjoyed sitting back while he has taken over most of the cooking duties.

The eastern seaboard of the United States and Canada is famous for its lobsters, and on our first evening, Ned cooked this delicacy by first boiling them, and then putting them on the barbecue for some additional flavour. Accompanying them were small bowls of melted butter. This is the traditional way of cooking these crustaceans, and large lobster pots are sold in many shops here.

The next day, we thought we’d do something different, so Ned offered to make lobster bisque — a sort of creamy soup made with lobster shells, and a lobster pasta sauce. After all the meat had been removed from the boiled lobsters, the shells were cooked in a pan on low heat; after they were warm, Ned threw a generous slug of Famous Grouse into the pan, and set the contents alight. After the flames had gone out, he mashed the shells, and added a bit of boiling water which was allowed to simmer quietly.

When the gentle rhythm of life and the quiet routine is broken by a little seafood party

Meanwhile, Ned had thrown some red peppers and a red chilli on the barbecue to char their skins and soften the flesh. The skin was peeled off, and the seeds from the chilli removed. He then chopped them fine, and threw them into a bowl that had some juice from the lobster, collected when the meat was being stripped from it.

Finally, the cooked shells were pressed in a sieve, and the liquid collected in the same bowl. While this was happening, half a large onion and a couple of leeks had been chopped and were gently sweated over low heat. As soon as they were soft, the pepper and chilli were added, and all the elements were blitzed in a blender until we had a smooth paste. This was pushed through a sieve so we ended up with bisque into which some cream, salt and pepper were added; this was served in small shot glasses as starters. The sweet flavour of the lobster was lifted by the peppers, with the chilli providing a subtle counterpoint. Delicious.

The left-over paste went into the pasta sauce with pieces of lobster that had been sautéed with finely sliced garlic. A bit of cream and saffron completed the dish. It would be easy to substitute prawns or crabs for lobsters. While Ned was at work, I observed closely, and can see myself trying to replicate his bisque in the coming days in St Andrews.

Scallops are other delicacies we eat regularly here. In restaurants, you normally get very few, but the other night, we cooked a large packet of them in butter, some ginger and dill. They don’t need much cooking and are easy to overcook. It was a treat to have a dozen each.

Sadly, St Andrews lacks a good butcher, so every few days we drive some 15 miles to St George where Terry, an Australian butcher, has a wonderful shop with all kinds of cuts. Last week, we picked up some steak, a few chops and a de-boned leg of lamb. Ned marinated the latter in some yoghurt for a few hours before roasting it in the oven with some rosemary. He then transferred it to the barbecue before slicing it. The inside was perfectly cooked to a rosy pink.

The rhythm of life here is gentle, with the quiet routine broken by the odd party. The problem about socialising in small-town Canada is that dinner is served at half-past six, normally teatime for me.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, August 14th, 2016