Iconic Canadian Drunk-Food

Hello my little cream puffs,

So you may have seen my little preamble video about donairs in Halifax. The video of me actually EATING the donair got chopped into bits (too big to email!), so I took it down. Technical issues seem to be plaguing me right now - it's a fairly consistent theme. BUT onwards and upwards as my mother would say.

THE DONAIR IN REVIEW
You can read a little more about the donair in my previous post on the subject. Upon sampling, I felt the donair was pretty odd to be honest, but I can imagine it would have been fantastic had I been maybe two whiskeys drunker. The garlic sauce was so sweet it almost constituted dessert, and the meat had this sausagey aftertaste that I wasn't overly keen on. I couldn't actually finish it, but luckily I had two *lovely* ladies to help me out. On a ratings scale of one plum to five plums, I would give it two plums.

BUT!
Much better on the Iconic Canadian Drunk-Food front is poutine. Poutine! It's just fries, gravy and cheese curds but holy moley, it is delicious. See picture above. I arrived in Toronto almost two weeks ago, and I've had two variations on the poutine theme; plain poutine from a pub called Clinton's (excellent, surprisingly good gravy for a vegetarian dish), and a duck poutine from Prohibition on Queen St East (slightly blander, soupier gravy, but the duck on top was very good indeed).

Toronto is pretty much foodie heaven, so I'm pretty excited about eating my way around it. And this weekend I'm going to Kensington Markets, which is supposed to be pretty wonderful. I've been so excited about eating out that I haven't cooked at home very much, so I promise to post some exotic new recipe soon...

Much love,

Doris

Philly Cheesesteak TICK

I recently enjoyed my first authentic Philly Cheesesteak. I was on my way back from a weekend trip to Washington DC, and took a little detour to Philadelphia on the way home to sample this unique American... well I use the term "delicacy" loosely.

For the uninitiated, a Philly Cheesesteak consists of thinly sliced strips of steak and melted cheese in a long roll.

It's been around since the 1930s, with various iterations over the years (it was originally served minus cheese, with chopped steak instead of sliced).

Whilst there are many cheesesteak places in Philadelphia - and indeed, throughout the States - there is a particularly fierce rivalry between Pat's and Geno's.

I chose Geno's, for no real reason at all. It's a hole-in-the-wall style place with bright red tiling, a line-cook who looks like he's spent some time in a local penitentiary, and "We Support Our Troops" plastered across every formica surface. Other gems included: "This is America, when ordering please speak English," and "Land of the Free BECAUSE of the Brave."

Poetic, isn't it?

So anyway, the cheesesteak. I was a bit scared of the Cheese Whiz variety, despite the NY Times calling this canned orange monstrosity "the sine qua non of cheesesteak connoisseurs." I went for the provolone option instead. I was pretty excited about trying out this iconic dish, but... I really can't think of much to say about it.

There was meat. There was cheese. And there was bread. It was well cooked but not imaginatively so. Nor was I expecting it to be. It's a Philly cheesesteak. Ta-da! Ticked off my list. I bet kids *love* these things, they are easy to chew and pretty bland and inoffensive. I think that's part of the reason for the intense cheesesteak love; people have all this nostalgia leftover from childhood cheesesteak experiences.

I'm sorry Philadelphians - it just didn't light my fire. Or as the lovely Sarah Jane would say, "It didn't exactly blow my skirt up." Cheesesteak lovers, please don't hunt me down for saying this on the interwebs. Remember, Philadephia is the city of brotherly love... Hmm? No?

My food resolutions for 2011

It's coming up to that time of year again. Bleugh. My resolutions in past years have been a mixed bag of cliche and whimsy; give up smoking (win!), take up hula hooping, get my drivers license, wear peppermint essential oil instead of perfume, don't wear so much goddamn black. Yes, I'm a recovering liberal arts graduate. For 2011, I want my resolutions to be exclusively food-related. So here goes.

I hereby pledge to:

• Start my own underground Supper Club. This is a super exciting resolution, my little kittens. This article gives you a bit of a run-down if you're unfamiliar with the concept, but basically, it's a small pop-up restaurant. Great, fresh food; a disparate array of people; BYO wine. One supper club per month, $20 for three sumptuous courses. More announcements are to come in regard to Doris Plum's Supper Club, but I'm scheming madly...
• Remember that eating is a political act, and that every bite is a vote. Not rocket science (after all, we've all read Fast Food Nation and seen Jamie Oliver lisping his way through that school dinner series). This means going out of my way to choose sustainable producers, buying food with less packaging, shopping in the organics aisle even if it bankrupts me and I have to live in a cardboard box.
• Give a non-dairy diet a chance. My rampant love of cheese has always thwarted this resolution in the past, but I have sinus issues and cutting out dairy will apparently change my life. Grumble grumble. I guess I'll give it a go, two week trial run. Apparently giving up alcohol will also help, but let's not go crazy now. *nervous giggle*
• Learn how to debone a turkey. This is step one of making turducken, which is definitely on my to-do list of ostentatious novelty foods. I also want to make meat cake, and maybe cake meat.

What are your food resolutions, my darlings? Comment here or email dorisplum@gmail.com.

Love, Doris