Here, Eat This! The Adventures of Kiki Maraschino

Hudson’s in the West Ed Mall is kind of a Canadian theme restaurant. Better meals were probably waiting elsewhere, but I just couldn’t resist. The walls were adorned with snowshoes and the servers were dressed as various Indian maidens. Pierra and Olga were game for anything, so we ordered up some poutine and got all Canadian. The poutine and gravy were excellent, but a little salty. Good if you are drinking lots.

Pierre and Olga played it safe with steak sandwiches, served on dry bread instead of the garlic bread Olga expected, but the steaks were good and cooked as ordered. I tried the bison shepherds pie. Bison is to buffalo as venison is to deer. The bison was in chunks instead of ground and was very tender. Of course, most braised game tends to taste like beef.

We were stuffed so we didn’t order the maple-bacon doughnuts for dessert.

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Although I hated to leave the fireplace in Maureen’s basement where I had been sleeping, we went to spend the rest of the week at Pierre and Olga’s. They have an outdoor cat that lives in the snow. Its name is Chisel, but I called it Snow Cat. We walked up to the stoop and Pierre remarked that the cat hadn’t eaten its food. He turned the dish upside-down and a perfectly bowl-shaped chunk of frozen cat food fell out and hit the deck with a thunk. I could not stop laughing. Poor Snow Cat.

Just then, Snow Cat made a showing, and Pierre asked, “Do you want to see what he REALLY likes? He got out a broom, and Snow Cat sidled up, and Pierre swept the cat! He swept like you would brush a cat. It was definitely one of the weirder things I’ve seen a cat put up with.

I started catching a cold, and it had been a tiring week for everyone, so Thursday we just watched the magpies out the window and read and napped. Olga made a nice barley soup for lunch.

Luckily,on my last day there my mom woke me up to see the moose that has been showing up in the backyard.

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Vicky and George, first generation Greeks Have moved locations several times. Vicky’s is elegant and clean, with a warm, homey vibe. Pierre and Olga’ grand-daughter also happens to work there as a server.

We started out with Saganaki, a baked cheese dish almost like queso fundido, and keftedes (meatballs).

As long as we were in a Greek place I ordered souvlaki, which was delicious, though Pierre’s lamb chops looked fantastic. Olga had a perfect salmon, and my mom ordered veal breaded and baked with ham and cheese. Even though it’s a common way to serve chicken, the cheese just didn’t seem to go with the veal.

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Tuesday Maureen drove me, my mom, Loretta and Pat to St Paul for the funeral. It was 15 below (C) with biting winds. When I got up, everyone was throwing on sweaters and mittens and toques like they were preparing for armageddan, so I went back down and put on stockings, thermals, knee-highs, Levis, 2 shirts, and 2 sweaters.

We were late coming into St Paul, so instead of stopping at a diner we stopped into A&W. Do you know they don’t put ice in their root beer because they don’t want to water it down? Weird.

The funeral was held at a Catholic church. I usually don’t look in the coffin, but I looked down and saw Auntie Mary Louise, and so many memories came flooding back, the waterworks started. Then I had to pass in front of the church and greet the family. I looked around and I felt like I was the only one in the church crying. I hugged Marie Louise’s daughter, but could only blubber at her.

If there’s anything I can say about the Catholic Church, they certainly hold nice funerals. It was very comforting, and considering there was a complete mass it didn’t seem that long. Afterwards, we went to the burial. It was REALLY cold at the ceremony. It was so cold that when the priest finished his prayer, everyone literally ran from the grave back to their cars.

There was a nice reception, and I knew I was somehow related to at least half of the people there. But we were racing the sunlight back to Edmonton since most of the road didn’t have streetlights so we couldn’t stay long. I have to hand it to Maureen, she is one heck of a good driver.

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We flew into Edmonton Sunday night and had a nice family dinner of comforting chili made by Maureen. I had sworn all the way there I would not complain about the cold. I walked out into the snow on my first day in expecting to be miserable, but thanks to temperate weather and careful layering, it wasn’t so bad.

I offered to take everyone out for brunch. I had been advised to try the Sugar Bowl near the University, but the line stretched down the block – in the snow. Hatfields, just a few doors down had an equally long line, but it was along an indoor hallway. We queued up at Hatfields. It was a quaint, if crowded, spot with little stained glass sculpures separating two rooms. The eggs benedict (or bennies as they are called here) were made with back bacon.

Even though the Sugar Bowl is famous for their cinnamon rolls, Hatfield’s boasted “Edmonton’s favorite” so we had to check them out. One was big enough for the table to share.

My cousin enjoyed her quiche and everyone else had some variation of eggs. Come time to pay, and my card was declined! In the rush I had forgotten to notify the bank I was leaving the country. So Mom paid, and I took a lot of ribbing.

That evening everyone gathered at Olga’s, who had made a ham and scalloped potatoes. They live in a more rural area. It was nice to see Alphonse and Angelle (Gelly). Sitting around the table late into the night, I learned a lot more about my family.

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My mother’s father, Alfred Breland, married twice, and brought 15 children into this world. I once extrapolated 72 first cousins from this, and goodness knows how many second cousins. For the sake of this visit, I am going to keep it short so that you at least know who I am talking about.

1st wife: Virginia Laboucane’s children: Irene, Mary-Louise, Rose-Ida and Edwin.

2nd wife: Ida Robinson’s children: Germain, Virgina, Alphonse, Jeannette, Bernard, Lucille, Loretta, Delia (My mom) Isidore, Emile, and John.

Today we will focus on those at Edmonton and St Paul this week. First, dearly departed Mary Louise, and her two children, Pierre and Angelle. Pierre married Olga and they are two of my favorite people to visit.

Alphonse lives in Ontario, and his daughter, Angelle (gelle-y) was kind enough to accompany him on this trip.

Loretta, married to Patrick Devlin, had 2 of her children there – Paddy and Maureen, who I have a special connection with and also lets us crash at her house.

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