Everyday when I wake up, I get down on my hands and knees and thank the powers that be that I can eat dairy. Can you imagine a life without ice cream, pizza, poutine or cheeseburgers? I can guarantee that I’d be a lot more unpleasant to be around. I would be way more crankier than I already am if I couldn’t eat some of my favourite foods. Near the top of that list of favourite foods is mac and cheese. I recently checked out this new spot in The Village called Macbar et Fromage that will guarantee to scare the lactose intolerance out of you.
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mac and cheese
I hit up this spot on the edge of Little Italy that is practically the antithesis of anything related to Italian cuisine… if you don’t count meat-sweats and taking a nap after a big meal. We’re talking about BBQ, and not backyard pits that you nonno tirelessly tends to in between hosing down the driveway and fertilizing tomato plants – but the likes of which will make you question everything you’ve ever known about what you think you know.
Hunger… it’s a funny thing, take cannibalism for example. How bad do things have to be before you decide to eat Steve? I guess desperate times, call for desperate measures… and my desperation led me to the land of the people who don’t stop at stop signs, drive 10 minutes to the nearest grocery store and whose weekends comprise of picking out tiles at Reno Depot or driving their kids to soccer. Wait, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t headed out to the west to eat humans, but my desperation to find quality Creole cuisine led me 25 mins down the 40 into D.D.O.