An old love song. A sepia-colored photo. The scent of a favorite perfume. These all have the potential to conjure up fond, vivid memories. For me, the fragrant odors of certain foods recall special moments from my childhood.
There was nothing that tasted nearly as delicious as eating homemade tortière (Acadian meat pie) in my Pépère Vienneau’s warm, cozy kitchen. My grandfather prepared tortière with shredded pork, beef, and rabbit. The filling was rounded off by mixing in mashed potatoes, diced celery and onion, and a rich, savory gravy. He was an expert at whipping up a fricot au poulet (chicken stew), as well as a salted spare ribs dinner (boiled dinner). These Acadian-style meals were staples of my childhood. The cuisine stemmed from the people making use of inexpensive, available meats and produce: pork, beef, rabbit, partridge, etc., and root vegetables such as potatoes, carrots, turnips, parsnips, and beets. Cabbage would get tossed in there for good measure.
A much anticipated treat was sugar pie (tarte au sucre) because my family would splurge in buying real butter, heavy cream, maple syrup (the kind from Québec, not Vermont), and brown sugar. Think of pecan pie, but without the nuts. That’s basically what tarte au sucre is. It’s rich and decadent. Just one modest slice satisfies a sweet tooth. This pie is associated with Christmas for me.
Despite these foods being delicious, one of my favorite things to chow down on is poutine. Over the years, I’ve gone to restaurants that proudly boasted that they served poutine. Nope. What I was served was not authentic. Fried eggs do not belong on poutine! Heated up frozen fries are never acceptable in poutine. Real poutine is prepared with seasoned homemade French fries, cheese curds (never mozzarella chunks), and dark, savory, full-flavored gravy. The “trick” to making poutine correctly is to have the fries and gravy spiced just right.
Eating, gathering, laughing, and sitting in front of the wood stove in my French grandfather’s house on a wintry day while music accented by the sounds of fiddles, accordions, and harmonicas transport me back to happy moments in my life. They are wonderful—truly wonderful—memories.