The Super Bowl, Mooseheads, and Milk In A Bag

On Super Bowl Sunday I put on my well worn Patriots jersey expecting an exciting evening filled with fumbles, touchdowns and food.

Before marrying the missus and moving to the United States I had a lifelong preoccupation during visits to America. This was the desire to eat certain foods not available in my homeland. My cravings included Lays potato chips, Mountain Dew, Three Musketeers Bars and anything between two slices of Wonder Bread.

From the age of five I had a "babysitter" give my widowed/working mother a break for a month or so every summer by taking me along on her annual vacation to Hampton Beach.

My "babysitter" had two sons a few years older than myself. We worked well as a team at the A&P grocery store situated in Hampton. Somehow, every summer, we managed to persuade their mother to indulge our requests for Manwich sloppy joe sauce, La Choy chow mein and items from my personal list mentioned above.

Now that I've been living in the States my mindset has shifted 180 degrees. I now crave Canadian foods not available south of the border. Whenever friends call before a visit there is the usual demand for a grocery list that includes Gattuso sweet pickled cauliflower, St Hubert poutine sauce, Dainty pilaf rice (no orzo), Tim Horton's coffee, Crunchie chocolate bars, Humpty Dumpty bacon hickory chips, and VH plum sauce (duck sauce doesn't cut it on my egg rolls).

Last summer I managed to have a week off from work for the first time in two years and travelled to Quebec and Ontario for 10 days.

The first thing I said when I arrived in Quebec and landed inside my friend's front door was "I need to order a 'Canadian' pizza". He blinked a few times in an effort to understand what I had said. I elaborated, "I need to eat a pizza with large strips of pepperoni that have absolutely no cayenne or chili spice in it". The call was placed before I could take my shoes off and, as Canadians know, the pizza arrived faster than an ambulance. Sal's pizza in Manchester comes close, but it's not the same.

I was in Quebec for three days and missed out on my wish for a Lafleur's "steamed hot dog". Only in Quebec you will find a bun and dog properly steamed and garnished with mustard, relish, dry coleslaw, and onions. I also missed the opportunity to have a unique flame broiled Harvey's Hamburger.

During my stay in Ontario I mentioned my hot dog wish and was directed to a portable fast food stand located on a downtown street corner by a park in the town of Lindsay. I knew something was wrong when the proprietor pulled out a foot long frankfurter and seared it on a grill before tossing it in the steamer. While waiting I noticed the condiment tray included a few things that made me realize that I had to compromise and have a Toronto-style hot dog for the first time in twenty years. Yum. A footlong frank in a bun with mustard and sauerkraut. With each bite a voice in my head said, "Not the same. Not the same."

The missus looks at me funny when cooking our weekend "big breakfasts". She can often be found staring at the pot on the back burner wondering why anyone would eat baked beans with bacon and eggs and fried sliced potatoes.

I remember bringing a home made tortiere to a Thanksgiving gathering and getting odd looks from guests who stopped in front of the dish with only one slice missing. As noses twinged repeatedly at the yawning ingredients the voice in my head could not help but say, "What? It's a pork pie. Have you never seen a friggin' pork pie?" Needless to say, I had something to eat for a few meals the following week.

I have managed to win over my step-daughter and wife when it comes to poutine. Unfortunately, a bag of cheese curds can be hard to find and costs the amount of three servings of the stuff on french fries with gravy at junk food restaurants throughout Quebec.

The missus has informed me that she misses Quebec style barbecue chicken ala St Hubert and Au Coq, and the fact that you can call a local restaurant in Montreal and have a rib eye steak with roasted potato, pilaf rice and chef salad delivered to your door faster than an ambulance at 10 o'clock at night any night of the week.

She has mentioned to see if I have mentioned the milk in a bag thing. I'm not even going to discuss the milk in a bag thing.

I really, really, really miss Swartz's Deli. Nothing on the planet can compete with their infamous smoked meat corned beef on rye bread sandwiches.

I do not miss ketchup flavored chips.

I am extremely grateful to everyone involved for making New Brunswick's Moosehead beer available in southern New Hampshire.

Due to the economic crisis I'm unable to cook my famous Super Bowl chili. There are 4 types of meat involved and finding myself out of a job for an indeterminate amount of time I may just have to settle for a 79 cent can of Hormels. It seems, financially, that I will also have to settle for a couple of Budweisers.

Don't get me wrong. Bud is beer and beer is good. In moderation, it is an excellent source of Vitamin B and antioxidants and best served with any spectator sport.

I hope that you have enjoyed your Super Bowl Sunday.

May our Pats do better next year.