U.S. poutine dreams pierced

It began as a year of great promise for poutine.

Early in 2006, it seemed as if nothing—not even the North American Free Trade Agreement—would stand in the way of one man’s solitary battle to introduce Canadian poutine to the United States.


But as time passed, the dream of a licensed Birds 'n' Curds chain was shattered as riots erupted in protest against the restaurant in the upscale neighbourhood of Georgetown in Washington, D.C.

In September, my entrepreneurial friend confessed he was running into problems.

"There is a strong anti-Canadian undercurrent in leafy Georgetown," he said.

"They won't let me bring in Canadian chefs, who are the only ones who can do poutine the right way, and anti-Canadian groups are threatening to burn the place down if I go ahead with the opening. Frankly, I never realized how deeply unpopular Canadians were here."

The first Birds 'n' Curds restaurant was to open in the former Riggs Bank at the intersection of Wisconsin and M Streets in the heart of the Georgetown shopping area.

ORIGINS OF POUTINE

Poutine is a popular French-Canadian dish made of French fries, cheese curds and gravy.

The creator of the dish, which is sold in pubs and restaurants in eastern parts of Canada, Fernand Lachance (pictured below), died in 2004 at the age of 86 in Warwick, Quebec, a small town 138 kilometres (86 miles) northeast of Montreal.


Legend has it that Lachance first made poutine after a trucker came into his restaurant in September 1957 asking for a mixture of cheese curds, fries and gravy.

Poutine is also said to have evolved from pudding recipes of the French-speaking Acadians of Atlantic Canada.


Cheese curds are small, rubbery pieces of fresh cheddar that have not yet been pressed or aged. Poutine is French-Canadian slang for the word “mess.”

EARLY DAYS

The summer began on a high note for the Birds 'n' Curds project, with an elite crew of Georgetown residents gathering at the restaurant while it was still under construction to sip on poutinis—vodka and potato schnapps cocktails with cheese curds floating in them.


"Man, I got so hammered on poutinis last night . . . I hope I NEVER see any more beef vodka!" one resident proclaimed.

"Of course, I must say, poutinis rarely make people sick -- that's because the grease content of the gravy schnapps is so high that it coats your stomach, limiting the damage the alcohol can do."

GEORGETOWN RIOTS

Insurance companies have since frozen out the Birds 'n' Curds project. My friend speculates that they are afraid of taking a loss after the Georgetown riots revealed a strong anti-Canadian sentiment in Washington.

"The [renovation] work really slowed down when the anti-Canadian riots started," my friend said. “It's getting really ugly. Two nights ago, a big [red] maple leaf was painted on the door of my Georgetown home."


"It's kind of a stalemate," he said. "I remain stunned at the depth of feeling against that kind of food. On the positive side, I'm pleased with the interest and creativity sparked by the poutini recipes. I think that may be the best thing to come out of this."

He said he's not sure if he will produce Wisconsin-style cheese curd dishes instead.


"It's a question of whether I want to sell out a whole culture for a few dollars," he explained.

"I'm the one who wants to open a Canadian restaurant, and I've said openly that I thought Canadians aren't as bad as everybody thinks. That's just the kind of open-minded guy I am."

He says he hopes his work leads to a Nobel Peace Prize ~

Mysterious Cornish mini-mountain

This is a view of St Michael's Mount, a 12th Century castle in Cornwall near Penzance.





At low tide people walk across to the island from the village of Marazion on a causeway, but at high tide they go by boat.



The day I took the boat across with my cousins in October the water was very rough and I thought I would vomit from seasickness.



The vistas of the wild Cornish sea and craggy cliffs from the mount are spectacular.



From some of the castle windows the view is only of the sea.



On the way up the mountain there is a giant's heart in the path.



What castle would be complete without a small mummified cat among its many treasures?




The trip back to the mainland was much better because I sat near the captain in the open air instead of under the plastic cover.

Robbery in Tregenna Place, St. Ives

As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives
Every wife had seven sacks
Every sack had seven cats
Every cat had seven kittens
Kittens, cats, sacks, wives
How many were going to St. Ives?



So goes the old rhyme.

When I went to St. Ives I witnessed a robbery.



My cousins took me to the Cornish seaside town, which has a population of just over 11,000, during my recent visit to England.

It took us about two hours by car from their town in Devon to get there.

We dropped off our belongings at the Carlyon Guest House before heading out to see the Tate St. Ives and the Barbara Hepworth Museum and sculpture garden.

As we wandered down Tregenna Place past the Cornish Stone Co. shop, I heard a smashing sound and some shouting inside. I realized it was a robbery and dialed 999 to alert the police.



Quite a crowd gathered.

At that point I knew only that I was in St. Ives. I passed the phone to a local man who answered questions from the police.

The robber was enraged because the staff inside the shop told her that the cash register was broken and that they couldn't open it.

She smashed up the interior of the shop and then shoveled jewellery into a black suitcase on wheels and headed out the door.



The robbery was executed messily.

It made me think about "In Cold Blood" and the mess of the crime undertaken in that book.

Years ago, when I worked at Morgan Pharmacy in Georgetown in Washington, D.C., the owner told me to hand over the cash straight away if we were robbed. I couldn't understand why the women in the Cornish Stone Co. didn't hand over the cash to get rid of her. I was afraid she had a weapon.

It was about 15 minutes from the time I called the police until the criminal left the shop and started wheeling her case up the street with two men in pursuit. I realized too late that we had no photos of her in action inside the shop because I was preoccupied with the police. I did take some as she fled.



We hung around for a while and gave our contact information to one of the shop women so the police could reach us if necessary. We didn't want to waste more time waiting when we had so much to see.

There was no sign of the police by the time we left, which was about 20 minutes later.

Later, local people told us they weren't surprised that the police didn't show.

They phoned me about seven hours later when I was in the midst of watching the Chelsea football game in a pub. The constable thanked me for my help and said the suspect had been apprehended. He'd heard I had photos and information about the crime. He said they wanted to interview me the following morning. I agreed.

But then the next day after hearing all the tales about the local police, I said to my cousins, let's high-tail it out of town and if they want to catch up with me later they can do so when we are back in Devon.

We wanted to go to the Eden Project that day.

I never heard from the police again.

BARBARA HEPWORTH MUSEUM & SCULPTURE GARDEN

Barbara Hepworth (1903-1975) died in a fire. She lived and worked in what is now part of the museum from 1949 until her death. Her studio room was left as it was at the time, which means it is open to the elements and her tools are rusting.







The garden is peaceful. It features several organic bronze sculptures of various shapes and some tropical foliage ~