I slept in the next morning. When I woke up the sun was high in the sky and there was music coming from downstairs. At first I thought it was Dylan, but Dufus assured he we wouldn't be breaking out any Dylan until tomorrow. He also called me a cretin that I could mistake anyone else for Dylan.
"Sit down. You're just in time for breakfast."
Damn... what was that glop he set before me?
I thought perhaps Dufus had brought up the dregs of his last meal, but he assured me this was the finest in Canadian Cuisine. I wasn't aware there was such a thing as Canadian Cuisine.
Dufus enlightened me. "It's called poutine."
Poutine Cuisine. The name suits it.
As I ran, gagging, for the powder room, I could hear Henry lapping up the gravy off the fries and cheese curds.
To be continued...
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Looking for some more Canadian Cuisine? Stop over at We Work For Cheese to see who else is damning Nicky today for starting the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" all over again. She might even have some cheese curds left to share with you.
