I love dining outdoors when weather and view cooperate as they did this particular evening in Baddeck. Out on the pier, overlooking the beautiful waters of Bras d’Or, the Yacht Club offered a balmy setting with gentle breezes. We weren’t overly hungry, so we chose to share a nacho plate with three side orders of slaw. Our server wanted to know what meat topping we wanted–chicken, pork, or donair, which we had never heard of. Donair sounded to me like the name of a fancy car model or maybe an airline company. “It’s a kind of seasoned beef,” she explained, so we ordered that, and it was delicious. Lean ground beef bound together into a loaf with corinander, garlic powder, onion powder, oregano, thyme, and cayenne, then cooked on a rotisserie and cut into thin strips.

My thanks to local chef Andy Hay and his website (theeastcoastkitchen.com) for a little background on donair. He describes it as an “East Coast delicacy” that tastes like summer nights, and I would agree. It first appeared in the Halifax area in the 1970s with various opinions about its origins. Some say it’s descended from the Greek gyro, and others think it traces its heritage to the Turkish “doner” kebab.

We finished the evening with a lively Ceilidh. This word, derived from Scottish Gaelic and Irish words for a social evening, is pronounced (kay-lee). In Cape Breton, such gatherings are often called “kitchen parties” because people gather neighbors into their kitchens and then invite a local music group to play.

Our Ceilidh took place in a tiny, white frame parish hall that seated no more than fifty people (locals and visitors) surrounding a raised platform with an old upright piano and some audio equipment. We’d been told we wouldn’t be able to keep from tapping our feet to the music, and that was certainly true. Melody Cameron played the violin, one foot tapping out the rhythm with every note. Her husband Derrick played guitar along with their friend Brian Doyle who joined them for the evening. The music was beautiful–poignant at times and lively at others.

A number of us loved the music so much we went back for a second lively evening. This time the piano player’s fingers moved so fast over the keys you could hardly see them. He also played a plaintive violin he’d created himself. The other musician, Neil McDaniel, treated us to masterful guitar, mandolin, wooden flute, and harmonica chords that seemed to echo out of misty hills somewhere. You can find the music of these folks and other Cape Breton musicians on YouTube if you’d like to hear them.

Both evenings featured a short break during which we were served hot tea in china cups and homemade oat cakes that reminded me of Scottish shortbread. After the second Ceilidh, the evening was just a bit crisp under a clear sky full of stars, so we all enjoyed our walk back up the road to the Silver Dart.