These shoes were made for talking.... and that's just what I'll do. So the word on the street was that one of the Goliath's of the Canadian food community, Mark McEwan, was going to do a Saturday Sammie Smackdown against the golden boy of the pop-up street set, the soon to be on the road in his own food truck, the small but mighty, Fidel Gastro's. Whoa, the Crown Prince of the Top Chef Canada panel, owner of the restos Bymark and North 44 and purveyor of McEwan Foods, this dude is a gastronaut of epic proportions. This kinda feels like Yoda taking on Luke Skywalker for bragging rights on who kicks up the best sammie. Ain't no way MamaCoop is gonna miss out on this sammie goodness so I traded in my red pumps for my go get 'em sneakers. After all there were sammies to be had! So let's break it down and see whose sammies were King this past weekend.
On the road of food and wine. A fork is my compass. When I'm not busy clanging on pots and pans I'm busy marrying people. Eat Well, live long, love hard. #FoodNinja #FoodIsLove #TheSecondHalf #BangAPan #TheWeddingOfficiant IG: @coopspeak @christinecoopercelebrant
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Love in a lunch bag....memories of Johnny
He was born John Margetson Cooper on October 30, 1929, in Glasgow, Scotland, tipping the scales at a whopping 14lbs. He was also my Father. I was the middle child of his three daughters and my claim to being different from my sisters was that I was the only child of my parents who was actually born in their bed. My Father cradled me as I came into the world, while waiting upon the arrival of the midwife. I always felt that created a different kind of bond between myself and my Dad.
In 1957 my parents bundled us up and immigrated to Canada. They knew absolutely no one here but they took a chance and we became part of the melting pot of Toronto. My Father had traded in the dust of a coal mine for the white dust of a bakery
In 1957 my parents bundled us up and immigrated to Canada. They knew absolutely no one here but they took a chance and we became part of the melting pot of Toronto. My Father had traded in the dust of a coal mine for the white dust of a bakery
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