|Photo by Gavin Bell.|
I remember the moment well when the proverbial wheels feel off my efforts to Assimilate with Albertans.
It was dinner time and a handful of us university residence dwellers gathered for the evening's grub in the Lister Hall dinning room at U of A. As we hovered over our Melmac plates loaded with an overcooked vegetable, carb and protein — two carbs and a protein for all those farm boys I went to school with — we'd all clearly reached the threshold of tolerance for our assembly line meals.
It was February so the doldrums were made that much deeper by piles of papers and mid-terms, near constant darkness, and an end of the school year that felt worlds away.
We started talking about home — the food, mostly, though we longed equally for free laundry facilities.
One of us started talking about their favourite Mom-made meal, probably something beefy, and then we all started spilling about the home cooking we missed most. We were awash in a tidal wave of fond food memories, our voices growing louder as we bonded in our agreement that yes, roast beef with horseradish would be really amazing right now, or as we held fast in friendly one-upmanship that one's Baba's cabbage rolls were better than another's.
Caught up in the excitement of sharing, I blurted "Or how about some pigs' tails?"