Category Archives: The Misadventures Of

Things I Ate At The C.N.E. In 2014

Coco's Fried Chicken. CNE 2014

Coco’s Fried Chicken. CNE 2014

Having recently completed my fifth annual tour of the Canadian National Exhibition‘s weird fair food offerings I can say with a certain amount of humility that this one nearly broke me.

For the first time ever I went to the Ex on three separate occasions. And though each time was during the “after 5 p.m.” weekday special — so I wasn’t there for a full day — these three trips came on three consecutive days. And as shocking as it may seem, three straight days of eating carnie stunt food tends to cause a certain amount of physiological rebellion within the human body.

To find out how this all turned out, read below…

First wave attack, Tuesday, August 26

Quench Lemonade. CNE 2014

Quench Lemonade. I started out with a fountain lemonade (part of my ongoing Ex campaign to not drink pop). It was fine, standard lemonade with maybe 20% too much sugar. The mushed lemon half thrown in certainly added a nice touch. 5.7/10

Just Cone It, Olympus Cone. CNE 2014

Just Cone It’s Olympus Cone. As a sucker for all forms of Greek food and as someone who decided he wanted to avoid the Bacon Nutella Pizza Cone, I went with the Olympus — a combination of tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, feta and olives — instead. Problem number one was that before I took a bite the biggest piece of feta fell off the top of the cone on to the ground. Burn. Then, when actually eating the thing the watery juices spilled on my hands. On top of that the cukes tasted old and gross. 4.9/10

Orange Sorbet. CNE 2014

Orange Sorbet. This was Sarah’s. I helped finish it off. Classic orange sorbet. 6.5/10

Note: This Sorbet came from Eative and their weird sci-fi dry ice gastro-something station. I didn’t get to see any of that stuff. I just ate the leavins. (Thanks, Tara.)

Water Bottle Refill Station. CNE 2014

Water Bottle Refill Station. One of the great new institutions at the Ex is the prominent water bottle refill station right beside the eastern entrance of the Food Building. We actually refilled the lemonade cup multiple times to create lemon-bammed water. 8/10

Miami Ice's Monkey Junk. CNE 2014

Miami Ice’s Monkey Junk. Being a little naive to wordplay sometimes, when I bought this I failed to realize that “Monkey Junk” meant “frozen banana smoothie popsicle.” Is that racist? Or has everything-is-racist sensitivity made me incapable of seeing it simply as “monkeys like bananas, this has bananas, therefore we’ll call it ‘Monkey Junk’?” Either way, by the time I got to the melty end of this it was kinda awful. 4.8/10

Fran's Thanksgiving Turkey Waffle. CNE 2014

Fran’s Thanksgiving Turkey Waffle. Fran’s first year at the Ex was impressive. For stunt food the Thanksgiving turkey waffle was a solid meal. The portion size was huge and the service at the Fran’s booth was beautiful in its ruthless efficiency. About the only thing wrong with this meal — which was basically an open-face turkey sandwich with waffle instead of bread — was the cranberries. Nobody actually likes cranberries. They should die. 7.8/10

Second wave, Wednesday, August 27. One of my main goals on this night was to check out classic Can-Rockers April Wine. This cut into my eating time…

Reese Flurry. CNE 2014

Reese Flurry. I’ve always loved soft serve ice cream and this was no different. That said, by the time you get to the bottom of this the remaining Reese’s Pieces are reasonably frozen and therefore not much fun to chew/bite. 6.8/10

Miller Genuine Draft. CNE 2014.

Miller Genuine Draft. I had two of these. They were normal beers from the Big Beer Industrial Complex. 6.2/10

Iron Skillet Sirloin Tips. CNE 2014

Iron Skillet Sirloin Tips and Garlic Mash Potatoes. These were very hit-the-spot tasty bits of steak ‘n’ potato. The best part being that the Iron Skillet folks weren’t scare of seasoning, which is a risk at some of these food stalls during the Ex. 7.9/10

El Gordo from Chunky Cheese Gourmet Grilled Cheese. CNE 2014

El Gordo from Chunky Cheese Gourmet Grilled Cheese. Featuring Monterey Jack, sundried tomatoes, chicken breast pieces, salsa, chipotle spread and jalapeno peppers, this was one totally alright sandwich. It’s relative quality was a good salve because they also sold something called the Elvis sandwich — an abomination featuring peanut butter, cheese, bananas and some other crap — which I couldn’t bring myself to try. 7.5/10

Hula Girl Expresso's Crobar. CNE 2014

Hula Girl Expresso’s Crobar. This was the croissant/chocolate bar hybrid that was one of this year’s alpha stunt foods. I’d consider it more “turnover” and less “croissant,” and there was nothing approaching the volume of a full chocolate bar in there (it was more like three squares of a Caramilk bar), but it was still quite tasty. 7.2/10

I wanted to try the Deep Fried Cheesecake, but it was sold out. So then I tried to get a Deep Fried Cola and that was sold out, too. Left with little else on the novelty food spectrum I went with…

Bacon Nation Sundae. CNE 2014

Bacon Nation Sundae. This is a normal soft serve ice cream sundae with caramel and chocolate. Except the bottom of the cup is filled with bacon bits and the garnish is two slices of bacon. The bacon slices weren’t so odd. After all, if you order something like a Grand Slam breakfast there’s often some collateral pancake syrup-to-bacon damage on those plates. But the bacon bits, man, that was… wrong. By the bottom of the cup it was just chocolate syrup and bacon bits in an unholy and inedible combination of the sort that’d make drinking fracking detritus seem relatively desirable. 3/10

Third wave, Thursday, August 28. Finally, on the third day I spotted a modest lineup for this year’s alpha food event, Coco’s Fried Chicken…

Coco's Fried Chicken Honey Butter Buttermilk Biscuit. CNE 2014

Coco’s Fried Chicken Buttermilk Biscuits With Whipped Honey Butter. Not bad. Not Popeye’s. 6.8/10

Coco's Fried Chicken Cocoa Chicken. CNE 2014

Coco’s Fried Chicken Cocoa Chicken. Chocolate chicken? What the fuck? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but it basically tastes like normal fried chicken. With maybe a bit of cumin. There was nary a hint of chocolate beyond the appearance. Sidenote: The fries were really good… Coco’s has their fry game down. Sidenote #2: Do NOT get the “chocolate ketchup” dipping sauce. Imagine licking the toilets on the Carnival Triumph cruise ship… that’s what it tasted like.  Chicken 7.5/10, Fries 7.8/10, Chocolate Ketchup 1.2/10

Wild Child Kitchen's Booster Juice. CNE 2014

Wild Child Kitchen’s Booster Juice. Having been thumped by the massive Cacao Chicken I needed a pick-me-up and for this I went to the hippies at Wild Child. I got something good from them last year so this year I decided to try the Booster Juice — beets, apples, carrots, ginger, lemon. The look of the Booster is great. Think “what True Blood prop juice must be made of,” but the actual drinking of the Booster? Let’s just say there’s such a thing as too much beet. And however much beet was in this drink was exactly too much beet. The slurry at the end of this — a combo of beet pulp and ginger — was undrinkable. 4/10

Special mention. The exact time required for the Wild Child Booster Juice to make its way through the entire human body is four hours. And when it does leave the human body it does so in spectacular, porcelain-staining, technicolour fashion.

Cherry Slushy. CNE 2014

Cherry Slushy. I got this to slink back into my comfort zone after the trauma of the Booster Juice. 5.9/10

My desire to try the churros was 100 per cent influenced by Clone High

I Love Churros' Chocolate Churros. CNE 2014

I Love Churros’ Chocolate Churros. A Spanish alternative to the classic sugar doughnut, these churros started out amazing. They were straight out of the deep fryer and their texture — a crispy, sugar-sprinkled exterior combined with a slightly doughy interior — made for magical mouthpleasures. Until I got to the bottom of the first one, that is. The chocolate syrup that had been pumped into the center of the churro had pooled at the bottom and become super-heated. So when I bit into it I got a gusher of scalding chocolate syrup in my mouth, essentially burning my tongue to the point where today I taste nothing. Also, after finishing these I almost randomly barfed without any notice or provocation. I blame that on the cumulative effects of the three days, not on the churros, though. 6/10

Additional reading:

Things I ate at the CNE in 2016. Bug Bistro’s Bug Dog and Fran’s Blueberry Milkshake with a slice of real blueberry pie.

Things I ate at the CNE in 2015. Including Frosted Flakes Chicken On A Stick and The S&M Burger.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2013. Including Nutella Jalapeno Poppers and the S’more Dog.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2012. Including the Chocolate Eclair Dog and Bacon Nation Nutella BBBLT.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2011. Including the Krispy Kreme Hamburger and Deep Fried Twix.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2010. Including Deep Fried Butter and Taco In A Bag.

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Things I Ate At The C.N.E. In 2013

There was no Cronut Burger for me.

There was no Cronut Burger for me.

Yesterday I properly completed my annual pilgrimage to the Canadian National Exhibition to eat bizarre fair foods. Once again it was a full-on adventure.

The marquee attraction this year was Epic Burger’s “Cronut Burger,” a hamburger made from a bun fused from croissant and donut, all with a maple bacon jam atop it. Alas, said maple bacon jam made 223 people ill  from Staphylococcus aureus toxin a week earlier and when I went to buy one yesterday it had understandably been banned from sale.

Of note, I was this close to purchasing a Cronut Burger on the day it poisoned everyone into barfing uncontrollably and shitting their pants. That was the same night as the Jane’s Addiction/Alice In Chains concert and as I passed through the Ex to go to the Molson Canadian Amphitheatre for the show I stopped in the Food Building for dinner. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the lineup for the Cronut Burger was too long so I had Jalapeno Poppers somewhere else instead.

I did, however, make up for it by eating some other horrible things which I have photographed and rated below for your vicarious thrills.

Check them out:

Nutella Sweet Potato Fries

Nutella Sweet Potato Fries. For deep fryer food these fries were pretty much perfectly done. There was too much Nutella, though, and I’m convinced this put me into a mild diabetic coma for the next three hours. 6/10

Fountain Cola

Fountain Cola. The tyranny of Coca-Cola products continues at the Ex. (Try to find a healthy drink. I challenge you.) So we gave in and got that fountain machine refill deal again. First blast was root beer with vanilla. It was ok. 5/10

Breakfast Dog

Breakfast Dog. A hot dog with scrambled egg on it, wrapped in chicken bacon. I’m a bit of fastidious eater, so when food is messy I consider it an insult. For this meal three separate chunks of egg had landed on my shirt before I had even taken a bite. That, and the chicken bacon was gross. 3.3/10

Nutella Jalapeno Poppers

Nutella Jalapeno Poppers. This was one of things I had on the escape-the-Cronut night. The Poppers were standard pub fare, but well done, and the Nutella was more discreetly layered this time. 5. 7/10

Wild Child Kitchen's Wild Cacao Smoothie

Wild Child Kitchen’s Wild Cacao Smoothie. When I was in my diabetic coma I declared we needed a healthy drink. After hunting for ages we found the Wild Child Kitchen, which served up juices, smoothies and vegan dishes. This was Sarah’s drink and it was bammed up with cacao. Too much I’d say. 5.8/10

Wild Child Kitchen's juice

Wild Child Kitchen’s juice. I had a watermelon/cuccumber/lemon juice thing and it was hella good. Also, as a cost-to-labor ratio, the gals at Wild Child were super-busting their asses to make our drinks compared to the efforts of other vendors. 7.3/10

Corn Dog and Ice Tea

Corn Dog and Ice Tea. This was also from Cronut night. Standard Corn Dog… 6/10. Fountain ice tea… 4/10.

Mongolian Beef Flatbread

Mongolian Beef Flatbread. The thing about white people is they’re scared of that thar foreigner food. Like beef, carrots, bean sprouts and onions in gravy on bread. There was no lineup for this Mongolian place and it was great. 7/10

Smore Dog

S’more Dog. A chicken wiener dipped in chocolate with graham cracker bits and marshmallows on it. This was wrong. It wasn’t as fundamentally horrible as the Chocolate Eclair Dog I ate last year, it just made no sense. And it was messy. It WAS a conversation piece, though. Multiple people came up and talked to me while I was eating it. 2.3/10

Additional reading:

Things I ate at the CNE in 2016. Bug Bistro’s Bug Dog and Fran’s Blueberry Milkshake with a slice of real blueberry pie.

Things I ate at the CNE in 2015. Including Frosted Flakes Chicken On A Stick and The S&M Burger.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2014. Including Cocoa Chicken and the Thanksgiving Turkey Waffle.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2012. Including the Chocolate Eclair Dog and Bacon Nation Nutella BBBLT.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2011. Including the Krispy Kreme Hamburger and Deep Fried Twix.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2010. Including Deep Fried Butter and Taco In A Bag. I

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Wilderbeat Revisited: Brian Jonestown Massacre In The Bush During The Great Blackout Of 2003

Brian Jonestown Massacre

Brian Jonestown Massacre

It’s been a full decade since North America’s entire eastern seaboard was plunged into a multi-day blackout (which I remain convinced was a massive anti-terrorism fire drill). I spent that weekend camping out at an ill-fated mod rock festival called Wilderbeat. Here’s what I wrote in the aftermath:

Amidst the blackout chaos, low attendance and some devious local politicking working against them, organizers of the Wilderbeat mod/garage/psych festival definitely learned about bad luck the hard way.

The Brit-pop kids of Toronto’s Blow Up scene are generally too precious by half, so asking them to rough it in the wilderness for three days to hear bands they’ve barely heard of was a dicey proposition from the start. But throw in one of the biggest power outages in North America’s history and it made for a lot of no-show campers. Probably more damaging to the fest though was its location — the Country Camping grounds in Port Burwell. Calling itself “Ontario’s #1 party campsite,” the operators of the site apparently had a change of heart about that claim over the weekend. Citing a combination of blackouts, police warnings, noise complaints and some new local by-laws that had been passed, the DJs and bands set to perform during the late-night portions of the weekend were all forbidden to play.

All of which made for a fittingly fractured climax with the performance of California rockers the Brian Jonestown Massacre. See, despite everything Wilderbeat was up against, the bands that were scheduled to perform during the day Saturday dutifully came, played and did their job.

The Candidates have shown vast improvement over the last year or so. The Gruesomes were still a dose of entertaining nostalgia. And The High Dials potent set was more proof that they’re poised for bigger and better things. Despite the campsite security guards trying to enforce a “skinny-dipping only after dark ” policy in the campground pool and a DJ roster met with total indifference, the bands played. That is, until they got to the headliners BJM. Fronted by the always enigmatic Anton Newcombe, BJM set themselves up on the main stage at just about midnight on Saturday night. Things looked promising… and then before a note was even played, the plug was pulled.

All the power to the stage — the lights, everything — was gone. This, of course, cued up a spectacular rant from Newcombe. Standing at the side of the stage, he railed against the campground owners, calling them “hippie fuckers” and accusing them of trying to rip off the people. Somewhere in this tirade were also rants about the devil being at work here and a tantrum where Anton galloped through the pool/lounge area of the grounds while other BJM members took solace kicking a nearby inflatable palm tree.

In short, it was a total bummer scene. With angry folks milling about and clearly no BJM performance forthcoming, it was time to retire to our campsite deep in the nearby woods to salvage out of the evening what partying we could. It seemed like a lame way to end the weekend, but then around 2 a.m. a couple of well-informed stumble-drunks rushed into our site with exciting news.

“BJM are playing again!”

“They’ve got some crazy set-up at the movie area. They’re going on soon!”

See, deep in the heart of the campsite, the Wilderbeat folks had set up a giant outdoor whitescreen and had been running reels of classic mod movies. BJM, being industrious sorts, took over the movie area; they were going to perform after all. Just that instant of anticipation, the realization of what was about to happen, was an adrenalized buzz. BJM were subverting the system. And fuck everyone, they were going to play.

When we got to the movie area BJM were all set up. The entire band was crammed onto two pieces of plywood to signify the “stage.” A crude PA system had been set up and best of all, with no proper mic stand available, Anton’s vocal mic was set-up, bound via someone’s ratty bandana, to a wooden tiki-torch. And then they started to play. I’m not even sure what they started out with — I think it was “Servo.”

BJM-wilderbeat-bush-concert

But in the almost total darkness, with the sound crackling through the jury-rigged sound system, the hundred or so people who were still awake and aware of the show started howling. Wild, out of control and drunkenly swaying, this crowd was ready. What seemed like a massive letdown was about to turn into one of the most transcendental concerts BJM will ever play. Another song in and the crowd was lurching, right up on the edges of the plywood. The tiki-mic completely collapsed and Anton enlisted Robbie from The High Dials to hold the microphone for him.

Robbie’s job was simple, hold the mic for Anton to sing into while he played guitar. It just added another layer of chaos to the whole performance. And then, like a walking, unkempt buzzkill, the campground security showed up. Brazenly sauntering onto the stage and threatening Anton to stop, the music was temporarily halted. Somewhere during exchange, Newcombe told off the guard, yelled at one of the band members for being out of tune and was the beneficiary of the following chant from the crowd: “Angry mob! Angry mob! Angry mob!”

Security got the message and left.

Someone shouted “Just play!” and the band ripped into the song “Who.” Frenzied from all the drama, the savages in the audience brayed in a united, primitive chant. “Who!” then guitars, “Who!” guitars “Who!”

It was magical. Then the plug was pulled.

The security folks had found and cut the power to the movie area. The show was over. What could have been something incredible had been crushed underfoot. But everything wasn’t a total loss. For those few fleeting moments, rock ‘n’ roll had succeeded. And even though the first ever Wilderbeat Festival ended up being a near-complete fiasco, those few brilliant moments of howling at the moon will never be taken away from us.

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Welland’s Got 99 Problems, But The Joys Its Local Paper Brings To My Heart Ain’t One

Frugal Friday

Frugal Friday

Growing up in the thriving mecca of Welland, Ontario was a fascinating and bizarre experience for me. It was basically like living in an industry and scenery-free Twin Peaks. (I can’t confirm that Welland has a Black Lodge, but I’m assuming that’s the case, given all of the melting grandmother mummies and other wild happenings that have happened there over the years.)

One of the most the most impressive and consistent bastions of Welland’s rather unique charm is the city’s paper, The Welland Tribune. I love The Trib. The paper does its best to cover local issues in the face of what I’m assuming is a tiny-even-by-abysmal-industry-standards budget. And they gave me my first taste of fame when one of their photographers picked me out of the crowd at a 1989 craft show and got me to pose with a bear (they also erroneously described me as a “lover of poetry” in a 1997 story, but I forgive them for that).

I also consider the paper a trailblazer, in a sense, because it eschewed that silly and overrated thing called copy editing long before the bigger and more reputable papers even considered outsourcing it.

This is why The Welland Tribune is often called The Welland Turbine by locals, and why spotting its bold typos and mistakes (and its utterly perplexing editorial choices in general) has become a rather popular hobby for the locals and the homesick.

Up until tonight, I considered the following some of The Turbine’s Greatest Hits:

  • Their intense coverage of Ontario’s controversial “Pit Pull Ban,” as the headline read
  • The time someone decided that “Leave The Roasting To Chestnuts” was the prefect headline for a story about children being burned in Christmas fires
  • This:

deathbycooking

But none of that compares to the amazing promotional email that my mother just received.

turbine

Here are two things I love about this message:

1. It’s addressed to my grandfather, who has been dead for nine years.

2.  Everything else.

So keep up the good word, Welland Turbine. Who needs an industry or a functional economy or any hope for the future when I have you?

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How To Make Cheesy Blasters That Don’t Suck

Cheesy Blasters

Cheesy Blasters

Early last year as the show 30 Rock was nearing its final days the Risky Fuel household began experimenting with trying to recreate one of main character Liz Lemon’s favourite foods — Cheesy Blasters.

The recipe was simple:

You take a hot dog
Stuff it with some jack cheese
Fold it in a pizza
You’ve got Cheesy Blasters

We tried to copy this recipe. It did not turn out very well.

Undaunted, awhile back we tried to make Cheesy Blasters again, this time modifying the recipe with one major change: Instead of buying pre-made frozen pizzas and wrapping them around hot dog wieners, we bought a bag of pre-made pizza dough and used that dough instead.

It was… AMAZING. By using the real pizza dough it not only tasted better, but you could structurally engineer something that had better wraparound/pigs-in-a-blanket qualities.

So, to recap, here’s what you do to make rockin’ Cheesy Blasters:

1) Buy a bag of pre-made pizza dough, some hot dogs, a can of pizza sauce and some shredded cheese.

2) Cook some hot dogs.

3) Open a can of pizza sauce.

4) Make a canoe out of the pizza dough for the hot dog, put the hot dog in there.

5) Throw some pizza sauce and cheese into the canoe.

6) Close that canoe’s edges together so the hot dog is sealed right in there.

7) Sprinkle a bit more cheese and pizza sauce on the top of your Cheesy Blaster.

8) Throw it in the oven and bake for about 10 minutes or until the dough starts turning golden brown.

Voila, Cheesy Blasters.

Thanks Meat Cat.

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