I’m not always the most confident person but I can confidently say that when it comes to being late, I kick butt, hands down.
My skills at tardiness are unsurpassed. I can get up a half an hour earlier and still be 10 minutes late for work. Want to meet for lunch? Bear with me because I’ll be there after our date has started. Throw a baby into the mix and now it’s just embarrassing how late I can be. I don’t do it to be rude. I’m often just a bad judge of time and how long things take.
In saying all that, I’m really late with this post, which is the last in the Canadian Food Experience Project and it comes equipped with a recipe that may also be a bit late for the season. Alas, it all seems fitting if I’m being honest with who I am, which this post demands.
This final instalment of the Canadian Food Experience Project is supposed to be reflective — how and if we found our Canadian food voices, what we learned. I can say this with certainty: I don’t know that I could define Canadian food with any more ease or clarity today than a year ago when this project started. From one region to the next, one province to the next, food is so vastly different and so influenced by every culture that is a part of Canadian society. The Niagara peach is as Canadian as poutine, bannock, maple syrup, cod tongues with scruncheons, Saskatoon berry pie, perogies (I’m thinking of you Glendon, Alta.), pizza, dim sum, fusion — the list goes on. If someone out there has a definite answer to question of what Canadian food is, I’m game to hear it.