The Canadiens, Canadians and Canadianity

Most Canadians I know are backing Le Bleu-Blanc-Rouge—even if the Habs aren’t their team—against the Tampa Bay Lightning.

I missed Game Four because my wife and I had other things going on and finished at different times. She ended up listening to the game on the Internet while I continued reading Canadianity: Tales from the True North Strong and Freezing, by Jeremy Taggart and Jonathan Torrens (TnT). 

Canadianity. Did you catch that? A tough word for you to pronounce, too? Say it with me: Cuh-nay-dee-ANN-ity.

I thought I knew a lot about Canada and what makes the folks from Newfoundland to Nunavut to Nanaimo so Canadian, you know, what gives them their…Canadianity.

In all our travels and conversations with friends we’ve made since first visiting our northerly neighbours in the late 1990s, my wife have become familiar with the Canadian entertainers TnT reference in their book, from Great Big Sea to the Guess Who, Leslie Neilsen to Steve Nash.

We’ve even been to some of the eateries that TnT mention: Clementine Café in Winnipeg; Two If By Sea Café in Halifax; Mallard Cottage in St. John’s.

I know the difference between St. John’s (Newfoundland) and St. John (New Brunswick). Look at me, braggin’.

But, man, so much I didn’t know. Kind of embarrassing for a Canadian spy to admit: I didn’t realize when MuchMusic went on the air (1984). Never heard of Taggart’s band (Our Lady Peace) or the program Torrens hosted (Jonovision). And Dan Hill and Gino Vannelli are Canadian? Whoa.

“I Just Wanna Stop” and cry when I get to the story Torrens tells about Mike Stevens, another fella I didn’t know existed. A harmonica player and founder of ArtsCan Circle, Stevens won the Slaight Music Humanitarian Award at the Canadian Country Music Awards (2016).

So much I’ve learned up until page 197, and I’m sure TnT have more in store for me in the next eighty-three pages of Canadianity.

I’ll watch Game Five tonight and hope the Canadiens come back to win the series. As soon as it’s over, though, I’m going right back to Canadianity to up my Canadian Spy game.

Why Winnipeg

Three years ago, I posted a piece about the best of Newfoundland. (Sorry to any readers who wondered if the espionage police had finally tracked me down and stripped me of my Internet connection.). Not the case. I’ve returned to St. John’s, NL (the province officially known as Newfoundland and Labrador) as well as British Columbia, Ontario, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia. Too much material for one blog post, so I’ll fill you in about a province my wife (and professional donut photographer) and I hadn’t visited.

Manitoba: Home to the American Hockey League’s Moose and the NHL’s Winnipeg Jets. Other than hockey, why Winnipeg? For nine days? In late November, for crying out loud? These are questions that friends, as well as Winnipeggers at the safehouse, asked us.

We wanted to meet the good people of Winnipeg and learn more about the joys of Canada. Who knew Winnipeg had so much character—and characters?

Those who’ve congregated at the West End Cultural Centre, which in 1987 was transformed from a church into a music venue, could testify to performances from Arlo Guthrie to the Hanson Brothers to Zoo Animal. On this chilly November night, the Reverend Rambler, a.k.a. Matt Colpitts, opened for the Dust Rhinos, who would be celebrating their 25^th anniversary. The Reverend, a bearded blues-inspired guitarist, rocked the former house of God.

After the Rev’s rambunctious set, he told us that he’s a shop teacher by day.

If Colpitts is half as passionate about molding young minds as he is about music, his students must love him. (Further research indicates that the Rev also enjoys hockey.)

My wife and I did, of course, see the Jets play in Bell MTS Place. Friendly people behaving themselves yet alive with the spirit of True North, strong and free. (Warning to first-timers: stay alert during O Canada.) The home team defeated Taylor Hall and the New Jersey Devils, 5 – 2.  

As we approached the arena’s exit, I spied a fellow wearing a Jets sweater; the name on the back was not Wheeler or Perreault but rather Dancing Gabe. (Never heard of him).

Fast forward a few days later to Chapters. A light snow fell outside the bookstore. Inside, in the hockey section, I saw a man sporting Canadian red attire. With his arms extended and his face lit up with joy, it’s as if Gabriel Langlois was about to embrace me. I plucked Daniel Perrons’s biography of Dancing Gabe from the shelf and would later enjoy the heck out of the book about Winnipeg’s most revered and wonderful sports fanatic.

Next time I’m at Jets game, I’ll have to ask Gabe what his favourite donut is and then add him to the list.

I wonder if Gabe has been to Bronuts, in “the Exchange” (district). 

Home Alone
(Image courtesy of YYT Photo and Design)

Brett and Dylan Zahari, the brothers who in 2015 launched the gourmet donut and coffee shop, have created a community centre of sorts. Spacious. Welcoming. Brett served as the frontman during our first visit and explained donut menu: Each of the eight seasonal round darlings has a name based on a fictional character. These donuts have flair for sure, and boy oh boy, is the staff friendly. And the bros, as well as Brett’s wife Meghan, have done their homework. Lots of research, trial and error. And when you get right down to taste, these are the best donuts in Winnipeg.

Yes, yes, it’s cold there in November. But not brutal. And in the summer, I’ve heard of nasty black flies to despise. Keep the faith, fellow travelers. There are lots of reasons to love Winnipeg. This Canadian spy tells you no lies. 

Top Twelve: On the Walk and On the Run

Walking near Cardigan Bay, PEI, serenity abounded: No bugs buzzing about as a cool morning breeze blew across my receding hair line. A cow mooed. I smelled hay. A paved road, void of any other activity, stretched before me for about half a kilometer before the asphalt rose to meet the horizon—and then I heard danger. A humming sound. A vehicle off in the distance. Moving too slowly to be a combine on a mission to mince me?

No, just my Walter-Mitty mind conjuring trouble. The car or truck was probably on a different road.

The humming became louder, but I didn’t panic.

I turned left, on to a PEI red road, as a speedy silver car emerged from the hilltop. The driver had no intention of slowing down, and I didn’t establish eye contact for that would have raised suspicion. Instead, I continued my walk down the sloped road, back to the safe house, as my would-be adversary searched in vain.

I continued the mission—regular readers know it’s to delve into Canadian culture to improve Can-Am relations.

After a week-long venture into New Brunswick and then PEI, my accomplice and I have returned stateside…through Calais, Maine, through the rain on Route 9 and to the On the Run convenience store in Bangor, where Canadian spies count their blessings for having avoided the authorities, once again.

Now safe and sound at headquarters, I present these Top Twelve highlights.

1.      CAN-AM Crossing at Calais/St. Stephen: A fifteen-minute wait allowed us to listen to National Public Radio’s program called Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me. Funny.

2.      Familiar Haunt: Niger Reef Tea House, where the chef and his crew served so grand a meal (baked haddock with mango chutney for me; for my wife: steak, grilled on the barbeque five meters from our table on the deck). My wife described the experience as idyllic and then said, “I don’t want it to end.”

3.      New Haunt #1, Algonquin Resort, which some say is inhabited by super natural entities, has re-opened after a much ballyhooed $38M makeover. The hotel looks and feels stately but not overstated, but the dislodged spirits, or perhaps only the highly-touted “jilted bride,” were not altogether happy with the changes. So says one concierge. Nor were some of the construction workers who had to disrupt them.

4.      New Haunt #2, Katy’s Cove: No ghosts, so “haunt” in the supernatural sense isn’t what I mean. But we’ll probably return, even though we’re not swimmers or beach bunnies. As we stood near the canteen at closing time, we admired the cove feeding into Passamaquoddy Bay.

5.      Fish and Chips: Rick’s is renowned and justly so. Less heralded is the Murray River Corner Café. “Best fish sandwich, evah,” my wife wrote in the guest book.

6.      Cape Bear: As tourists and locals flocked to Charlottetown for the Canada Day fireworks, my wife and I watched the swallows flitting to and fro near the cliffs. We had this part of the island almost all to ourselves. One islander, who talked hockey with me before I entered the lighthouse to join my wife, was welcome company.

7.      Canada’s Smallest Library: In Cardigan (the town, not the aforesaid bay), an 11 x 11 humble edifice stood on the shores of the Cardigan River. Inside, on the tile floor, my gaze fixed to the right: five rows of non-fiction. Books included Windows 7 for Dummies, New England: Land of Scenic Splendor. Between Princess Margaret and Going to Extremes, I spied a book whose one-word title in red and gold letters enticed me. Lanny. Could it be Lanny McDonald? The mustached man on the front cover delighted me as I wondered how much he might reveal about my beloved Colorado Rockies. I scanned the index to find familiar names like Mike Kitchen. Ah, but I didn’t have a library card, so my accomplice channeled Jason Bourne and took pictures of the pages that mentioned Rockies players.

8.      Elmira: Conducting research about trains for the novel I’m writing, the kind folks at “the End of the Line,” a PEI Museum and Heritage Foundation site, didn’t have a business card. So they gave me a tiny gift box imprinted with their contact information.

9.      Basin Head: Barefoot on the beach with my wife, I shared my fears and other pent-up feelings (a spy can cry, by the way). After lunch from Skallywags, I took stock of my surroundings: To the south, the Atlantic—where the ferry should be passing any time; to the northeast, windmill tops whirling.

10.  East Point Lighthouse: A pleasant chat with the Visitor Centre workers about their love of PEI and the music they prefer (see Island Music, below). They said the ferry to the Magdalen Islands would be passing by in about fifteen minutes. At the gift shop next door, I became attached to the map showing the deportation of French-speaking inhabitants, from Acadie—present-day Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and PEI—to North American British colonies. I love maps, but it was time to move on.

11.  Island Music: Before we left the gift shop, I listened to the featured music: Fiddlers’ Sons. While in the spy car, we had the radio tuned to CFCY, and I enjoyed new stuff, like “Invisible” by Hunter Hays. I also sung along with a new-to-me, “It’s Friday,” by Dean Brody. The lyrics and beat caught my tongue and toes because Great Big Sea contributed a Celtic cadence to the country tune.

12.  Beating the Heat: With the temperature approaching 30°C and international anti-spy organizations hunting us, we escaped indoors to see a movie. The Grand Seduction, a wonderful story about saving a Newfoundland fishing village, seemed like a confluence of Mad-Eye Moody, Rare Birds and rural revival efforts featured in Saltscapes. (The pre-movie entertainment: my wife reading, from her camera, a few pages from the book she would purchase when we would return home.)

Montreal Top Twelve: The Best of the Belly of the Beast that Beat the Bruins

Fresh off a 3–1 loss to the Canadiens in Game Seven at the TD Garden, my wife and I drove from Boston to Montreal, the belly of the beast. There, we rendezvoused with an erstwhile stateside friend to enjoy the cuisine and culture—and to congratulate Canadiens fans on their victory.

I became, you might say, a Canadien and a Canadian spy, and present my top twelve observations and reasons to visit Montreal.

1.      Saint Louis. Our hotel attendant, a funny and amiable fellow who I‘ve canonized here, hailed cabs and pointed us in the right direction. (Mont Royal is to the north). Louis also told us that the Bruins used to stay at his hotel, on Rue de la Montagne, and he shared a funny interaction he had with Shawn Thornton.

2.      Wrap City. When we told one employee that he looked like Patrice Bergeron, he said someone in Boston told him the same thing. After some friendly hockey talk, we delighted in the food. I recommend the Fifth Avenue wrap and pistachio biscotti.

3.      The McCord Museum. From First Nations to “the Main” to Msr. Masionneuve, the videos, placards and artifacts revealed a wonderful history.

4.      The Hab hockey vibe. On Saturday morning, some five hours before Game One against the Rangers, I walked along avenue des Canadiens—in front of Le Centre Bell—as workers unloaded produce from trucks and television production crews set the stage for announcers. No crowd yet. Serenity surrounded me as I crossed Rue Stanley en route to Gare Centrale.

5.      Second Cup. A youngster wearing a Canadiens shirt listened to his father ask him, in English, what he wanted for breakfast. The father then ordered in French. My turn. I ordered, in English: a chocolate almond croissant to go with my Panini style egg sandwich and coffee, into which I sprinkled chocolate powder. At a nearby table, one Habs fan recalled a story about how he had secured last-minute tickets. I sat at my table and ate as I waited for the train.

6.      Chez Puckbite. Msr. Plouffe and his son, clutching a Canadian and an American flag, greeted me and then treated me to a tour of their home. Puckbite Palace is to hockey memorabilia and painting what the McCord Museum is to history.

7.      Habs vs. Rangers. Not being invested in the outcome, now that my team had exited the playoffs, afforded me relief from the drama and awarded me the joy de vivre de hockey as Puckbite shared his quirky color commentary from his living room. “Subban Incorporated,” he exclaimed as P.K. went end to end. The Canadiens would lose, and I took no solace in that.

8.      Cabbies: From Italy, Lebanon, Algeria and Haiti they had emigrated. All friendly in their own way as they drove us to restaurants. Grazie. Shukran. Merci.

9.      Lola Rosa. While waiting for the vegetarian lasagna, I opened the drawer at my table. It was stuffed with hand-written notes about love and misery and university life (McGill is a few blocks away). Some were funny, but I didn’t write them down and can’t recall them now. But I wrote one of my own. Please let me know if you’ve read it.

10.  Las Sala Rosa. Paella, sangria, limonada and a tortilla española. Muchísimas gracias.

11.  Modavie. Second floor at this bistro in Old Montreal. Chicken Drumette, so yummy. A snare drummer and guitarist accompanying Dray Wood, singing bluesy tunes. Tres magnifique.

12.  What does the Kitsuné say? I still don’t know what a fox says but can tell you that Kitsuné is Japanese for fox and the name of the espresso bar that imports, from a nearby bakery, the best spinach scone. An endearing ambiance (especially for a geography freak and writer), too: a giant world map on the wall and a globe atop a bookshelf containing The Purpose Driven Life (first edition). A most enjoyable Sunday morning, our last day in Montreal.

13.  (Baker’s dozen). Indigo. Blood and Daring. (It’s not about stopping pucks with the face or crashing the crease). John Boyko’s book, featured here on the Agenda with Steve Paikin, is great reading about Canadian-American history— not only for self-assuming Canadian spies like me but anyone interested in the (American?) Civil War.

Puckbite Interviews Captain CanAmerica

Image courtesy of Puckbite

Captain CanAmerica visited Quebec last week as a guest of the Montreal Poutine Hockey Club. He sat down for a chat with Puckbite.

Introducing Captain CanAmerica

Dear reader,

I present my new business partner, Captain CanAmerica. All yours, mon ami.

Captain CanAmerica, here to serve. Okay, I’m a fledgling superhero (props to Puckbite for his portrait of me) working on my tagline. Given the early stage of my development, I can reveal little of who I am. In comic book-parlance (I’m still waiting for an invitation to Comicon de Montréal 2011), I am the Canadian spy’s sidekick.

While my partner’s modus operandi is stealth—he has eluded many would-be interrogators—my method is more overt. You’ll see me on guest posts here, and perhaps on other sites, as we—my partner, you, and I—combat the common villain: our inherent intolerance of those whom we do not yet know or understand.

Captain Canuck-meets-Captain America, I am not. A maple-leafed belt and star-spangled shield do not suit me. I endured no alien rays or scientific experiments to strengthen my skeletal and muscular systems.

My sole superpower (as far as we know) at which you might marvel: summoning my best self. With a super solar-powered lamp embedded in the butt end of my recycled wood hockey stick, I aim to illuminate the people who populate the provinces and territories that comprise Canada, and thus enlighten all kind-hearted citizens on both sides of the 49th parallel.

Time for me to make like a zipper, and fly.

Canadian Spy: The Next Step

I’m taking this espionage thing to the next level, by learning French. Below is an excerpt of my first assignment en la cours de français, my first foray into introducing myself to francophones.

A Propos de Moi

Salut, mes amis. Je m’appelle Jim, mais ma famille et mes amis de hockey m’appellent Jimmy. Tout le monde pense que je suis Canadien. Je viens de Colorado—ou trois de mes quatre frères et mon papa habitent—mais je habite avec ma femme à Maynard. Je étudie le français parce que deux de mes amis de hockey parlent français, j’aime bien la musique de Céline Dion, y parce que ma femme et moi voyageons souvent a Canada. Nous adorons la Ville de Québec. Nous ne somme pas fans de l’équipe de hockey de Montréal, mais j’aime bien Patrice Bergeron, qui vient de Québec et qui joue pour les Bruins de Boston. Nous aimons les Bruins et le entraîneur, Claude Julien.

J’adore aussi lire les livres de Jacques Falla, Frank Delaney et George Plimpton; écouter et chanter la musique de les artistes canadiens comment Great Big Sea, Bryan Adams, y Les Ténors Canadiens; manger les beignes les démanche; et écrire de tout ces expériences.

Un de ces jours j’aimerais publier mon mémoire, Gloire AMHL: Une passion pour le hockey du matin (et beignes); écrire autres livres, et voyager à Nouveau Zélande—bien que ils ne pas parlent français allé.

Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics: Eh to Zed

Image courtesy of A Time to Blossom at Flickr.com

Inspired by Shane Koyczan’s “We Are More”, a poem about what it means to be Canadian (hint: more than saying “zed” instead of “zee”), I hope to highlight the defining memories—as they pertain to my mission—of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics Games.

And in the spirit of the Opening Ceremony, I invite you to participate in this endeavour. You—no matter the side of the 49th parallel in which you reside—don’t have to wear a white poncho or wave a penlight, but you’re welcome to help fill in the blanks below.
AAerial views and Alexandre Bilodeau: The video shown during the Opening Ceremony depicts Canada’s diverse geography, from Signal Hill atop the cliffs of Newfoundland & Labrador to the jagged majesty of mountains in British Colombia. And how about that lad who landed Canada’s first homegrown gold medal?

BBobby Orr and “Bang the Drum”. To the sixty-two-year-old kid from Parry Sound who helped usher in the Olympic flag and to the catchy tune by Bryan Adams and Nelly Furtado. Well done.

CChris “Wheeler Dealer” Lord and Curling. Chris, in a story by Kevin Paul Dupont wrote, reminisces about the Olympic bus he loves—and is ready to sell. Curling (some say the sport the English invented and that Canadians mastered) is fantastic if not yet widely understood—all those rocks, skips, and ends.

DDavid Atkins and his team. Atkins, the mastermind behind the opening and ceremonies, delivered a dynamite opening night. Resplendent imagery evoked imagination and emotion. I marveled especially at the spouting whales swimming across the “floor.”

E

F
Fiddlers and First Nations. Merci to the opening ceremony performers—the frenetic fiddlers and the footloose First Nations members really cut a rug (French translation anyone?)

G
Gretzky lights the lamp, er cauldron.

H
Hannah Kearney. The American skier, whose mother grew up in Montreal and who has Canadian cousins, won gold in the freestyle mogul event. She defeated Canada’s Jenn Heil, but the gold medalist was humble (in true Canadian fashion) when she said on NBC that silver is nothing to be ashamed of.

Most Canadians are proud of their athletes, but maybe not as proud as they are of those who have lost their lives overseas. NBC honoured, with piece more than two years and then again in on the first night of Olympic coverage, these soldiers’ sacrifices by mentioning the Highway of Heroes.

I

J
Jon Montgomery: Gold medal around his neck and joy presiding on his face, the skeleton sledder from Manitoba sings O Canada.

KKennedy’s quote. NBC, in its coverage of the Opening Ceremony re-introduced Canada to America by way of JFK. Almost fifty years ago, in a speech to Canadian Parliament, he said, “Geography has made us neighbors. History has made us friends. Economics has made us partners. And necessity has made us allies. Those whom nature hath so joined together, let no man put asunder. What unites us is far greater than what divides us.” Amen.

L
MMikey “Says He Wasn’t Good Enough to Play So He Becomes Part Owner of the Vancouver Giants” Bublé, Matt “Five-hole Goal” Lauer, and Mary “Mountie for a Day” Carillo. Mikey, whose hometown is Vancouver, gave NBC’s Today Show’s Matt a tour of the soulful singer’s favourite places, including the rink. The two lads “laced ‘em up” for a shootout during which Lauer flicked a nice wrist shot between the goalie’s legs.

Mary Carillo (NBC’s Canadian spy) donned the Red and Black and Stetson hat to learn more about how the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) train. She spent a good chunk of her day marching in boots, running the obstacle course, and firing a weapon. She even drove a squad car. Although, some will say these short segments enforce only stereotypes of Canadians, I believe this feature focused on the commitment it takes to join the RCMP and the pride many Mounties demonstrate in performing their jobs.

N
O
PPatrice Bergeron: The Boston Bruins’ lone representative to Team Canada played only a handful of minutes, which baffled many a Black and Gold fan until we learned that he was hindered by a groin injury incurred in the first game. We’re proud of you, Patrice.

Q
R

SStanding ovation. The home crowd, who had just witnessed its women’s hockey team rout (18–0) the Slovakia squad, rose to its feet to cheer the losing team. Talk about embracing the Olympic spirit, eh?

Sounds of Vancouver: From "Fire on the Mountain" to "Ordinary Miracle" to "the Olympic Flame", this CD is a testament to all those who prepared for, participated in, or witnessed the splendor of the 2010 Olympic Games.

Sid the Kid: Sensational skills that stoked a nation, priming Canadians for a celebratory closing ceremony.

T
U“USA! USA! USA!” the crowd—and not just Americans—shouted as the members of the Team USA women’s hockey team, received the last of their silver medals.

V
W
“We hope you loved the hockey. We hope you loved Canada. We did both.” –NBC’s Mike “Doc” Emerick as he concluded NBC’s broadcast of Team Canada’s gold medal victory over Team USA.

William Shatner: Crickets, canoes, and the Final Frontier

X
Y
“You Gotta Be There,” says Michael J. Fox as he concludes the HelloBC.com commercial. Amidst the host province’s natural splendor, the actor/writer/hockey player shares the stage with other BC natives: Ryan Reynolds, Erick McCormack, Kim Cattrall, Steve Nash, and Sarah McLachlan.

Z
Zach Parise: The American scored the game-tying goal with 24.4 seconds to go in regulation, as his Canadian/Canadienne father, J.P., probably stifled a nationalistic groan in favor of a paternalistic cheer. Or maybe vice-versa.

Zed, Zee: Both are okay with me.

The Great Gordon Mystery

Gordie Howe, Gord Kluzak, and Gordie Roberts*. Gord Murphy. Gordie Dwyer. All are Canadian. Although Gordon and its variations seem to have gone out of vogue—the likes of Ethan, Aiden, and Lucas are all the rage—the names are still prevalent north of the 49th parallel.

The name’s popularity in Canada extends outside hockey circles. Media: Gordon Sinclair. Music: Gordon Lightfoot and “Gordie”, the title of the Bare Naked Ladies’ first album.

The only Gords I know of here in the States are a kid from high school; Gordie the Pig in the movie, Gordie; and Gordon Shumway (a.k.a. ALF), who resided in Riverside, CA.

But why is this name more popular in Canada than in the States?

I reckoned this phenomenon has something to do with Canada’s connection to the Crown, but I couldn’t pinpoint a reason. So I put the question to my field agents, some living stateside and others Up North. They filed the following dispatches:

Nova Scotia: No clue.
Thanks for checking in though, always good to hear from you.

PEI: “You should write the Bare Naked Ladies and ask them why they named their debut album Gordon.”
Not an answer to the question, but that’s a good idea. Stay tuned.
Republic of Newfoundlander: “Don’t forget the lead singer of the Tragically Hip, Gordon Downey.”
Right on.

Ontario: “…It dates, I am sure, from the first Canadian International Military Expedition…and involved voyageurs and loggers being sent in canoes to free General Gordon.”
We’re on to something.

In 1884, Charles George Gordon, a.k.a., Gordon of Khartoum (because he was the former governor-general of Sudan’s capital city), helped Egyptians escape from a jihad led by Muhammad Ahmad.

However, the Canadians on this Nile Expedition—also referred to as the Gordon Relief Expedition—did not reach Khartoum until it was two days too late. Gordon had been beheaded.

Nonetheless, as the field agent wrote, “(The account) is one of Britain’s most famous tales and directly involved Canada.”

Correction
11/13/2009
*Gordie Roberts is American, born and raised in Detroit. His parents were Red Wings fans and named him after that other guy named Gordie. Sorry for the error.

Random Research from Newfoundland, Part II: Foods and Fred’s

Cont'd from Part I: A Baker's Dozen

Sitting in the Halifax airport and waiting to board our plane, which is emblazoned with the Maple Leaf and is bound for Boston, my wife unwraps a Maple Nut Clif Bar.

Smell this, she says.

“I don’t like maple,” I say, scrunching up my nose.

“What kind of Canadian spy are you?” she says.

The kind that likes maple syrup on his pancakes but not as a primary flavor in a nutrition bar or as frosting on a donut. And the kind that waits until he has outwitted the authorities —again—to file his findings.

Here then, is the second installment—a baker’s dozen sequel to Part I—of a two-part report.
1. Best Fish Sandwich: Chaffe’s Landing, Petty Harbour
The AMHL Photographer loved the lightly-bread cod, which the proprietor himself had caught that morning.

2. Best Record Store: Fred’s, St. John’sNo offense to O’Briens, which we’ve never visited, but Fred’s has the welcoming purple storefront, a friendly staff, ample space and selection, and about a half dozen preview stations.

3. Best CD I Bought: Tarahan, Tarahan’s Town
The CD cover, which depicts the Kool-Aid coloured (proposed new flavours: Cheery Cherry, Guffaw Grape, and Laugh-Out-Loud Lime) row houses for which St. John’s is famous, attracted me. Then, the balance buoyed by the bands’ own well-crafted lyrics and splendid renditions of a U2 classic and Newfoundland favourite, hooked me.

4. Best CD I Didn’t Buy: Donnie Dumphy, I Loves Doing Wheelies
Donnie Dumphy’s I Loves Doing Wheelies first commanded my attention as we walked by the announcement (nailed to a telephone pole) of his CD release. His lyrics were, in the words of the AMHL Photographer, “disturbingly catchy.” I liked the album’s title and the cover shot, but the songs were not my cup of Tetley.

5. Best Non-Red Green Pun: Just Desserts
Red Green, the hockey-loving redneck with the Irish-invoking surname, delivered a couple doozies as part of the “Possum Drop” episode, which airs on the CBC (and PBS in the states), but the raspy-voiced rascal’s puns would take to long to explain here. Channeling the Canadian punmaster as I walked past the vacated Just Desserts shop, I said, “It looks deserted.” (“I knew you were going to say that,” my wife replied. “I knew, on some level, you were going to say that.)

6. Best Senior Hockey Team: Clarenville Caribous
Caribou or Caribous? Doesn’t matter what collective noun you use. This team of adult hockey players won the Herder by beating the Conception Bay Cee Bees.

7. Best New Donut at Tim Hortons: The Key Lime
The aroma reaches the olfactory system before the taste buds can take over. I normally don’t go for the filled donuts—too messy—but the sour power of this tangy treat was too much to resist.

8. Best Place to Re-tell Ghost Stories: O’Reilly’s, St. John’s
You need only find a friendly off-duty employee and a bouncer/folklore major.

9. Best Place to See a Ghost: Queen’s Street in St. John’s
I double dog dare you to take the Haunted Hike with Doug Jarvis; follow that up by reading his book; and then—the next night—take a solo tour of Queen’s Road.

10. Best Getaway for a Gluten-free Snack
At The Bookery, you’ll satisfy not only your sweet tooth but will also be beset by beguiling books (many that you won’t necessarily find at Chapters or Borders). I recommend losing yourself in the literary realm for as long as you need, and then enjoying your newfound treasure with an almond cranberry pastry and a white tea.

11. Best Recommendation We Didn’t Follow
The Caribou Burger at Aqua, recommended by The Bookery’s proprietor, sounded tasty. But on our last night in Newfoundland, this Canadian spy opted to keep a low profile.

12. Best Salad in St. John’s
In a province where flavorful fruit and crunchy vegetables are difficult to keep fresh, the YellowBelly Brewery and Public House offers just that. Orange wedges, curly-qued carrot shavings, cranberries, and leafy greens—mix in pecans and drip in maple vinaigrette—and you’ve got a colourful and crunchy salad that’s anything but cowardly.

13. Best Food and Service
At Pasta Plus Café on Water Street, you’ll find a wide variety of temping creations. My favorite is the baked Mac ‘n’ Cheese (go the extra kilometer and add chicken for three bucks). And if you’re lucky, your waiter will be as earnest and friendly as Matthew Hornell.

Random Research from Newfoundland, Part I: The Best Of, a Baker’s Dozen

On a dead end road, the spy car is stopped. We’re waiting for the safe house operator to arrive. Exposed, with no where to go.

“I don’t have a signal, either,” the AMHL Photographer/my wife says about the spy phone. She goes to sleep, and I take first watch.

All is calm on this random island—until two counterintelligence operatives wearing orange life vests speed by in a motored boat. They cast suspicious glances in our direction but continue west. Close call…and the mission, to identify the best of Newfoundland Labrador, continues…

1. Best weather: Light snow in late May
Frosting the “pine-clad hills" of the Avalon region, the snowy image may grace our next Christmas card.

2. Best ice-breaker: “How are ya gettin’ on?”This conversation-starter is common on “The Rock,” but any come-from-away posing this question with the correct pitch and pronunciation will (without raising suspicion) get the locals talking.

3. Best iceberg: Trinity Bay, Bonavista Peninsula (pictured)The AMHL Photographer captured this pinnacled ‘berg off the coast of Melrose.

4. Best Sign: Bonavista City Limits
Bonavista: Home of NHLers Michael Ryder (Bruins) and Adam Pardy (Flames).

5. Best History Lesson: Cape Bonavista Lighthouse
Thank you to the modern-day lighthouse guides. The light no longer needs an overnight keeper, and weather trends are tracked by someone else; but our guides are now history’s beacons.

6. Best Cup of Coffee (and Blueberry Cheesecake): Walkham’s Gate Pub, Bonavista
Java so smooth to the palate and cheesecake sans too much sugar: These two items belong together like hockey and donuts.

7. Best Hockey Color Commentator: PJ StockThe former Bruin, now retired but still sporting a playoff beard, still packs a powerful, yet playful, punch as a between-periods analyst on Hockey Night in Canada.

8. Best Book I Didn’t Buy at Chapters: Forward Thinking, The Danny Cleary Story
I have way too many hockey books in my queue, but after perusing this Newfoundlander’s biography, I was tempted to add Brendan McCarthy’s book to my bookshelf.

9. Best Donut Book Not Available at Chapters: Do Donuts Fall in the Winter?I had no idea what the book is about, but the title is catchy, eh? It's not available in the Chapters in St. John's, so you'll have to order it online.

10. Best Musical Performance: Chris Hennessy at Shamrock City, St. John’s
A pint of Guinness on the stool beside him, a guitar in his hands, and a soothing voice to comfort the crowd. Nobody does “Candle in the Wine” any better.

11. Best Place to Read Ghost Stories: Random Island
Spine-tingling tales from Dale Jarvis. Best to read Haunted Shores: True Ghost Stories of Newfoundland and Labrador with a security blanket or, even better, a real person to watch your back.

12. Best Radio Station: VOCMCall in or just listen to Open Line or Back Talk. Or when these programs are off the air, listen to the likes of Paul Brandt or Shania Twain (both Canadians) or tune into the news at 590 on your AM dial.

13. Best News: Daffodil Place Meets Its GoalsThis haven for families fighting cancer, which raised seven million dollars in just two years (a year sooner than expected), will conduct opening ceremonies on June 12, 2009.

Part II: Food and Fred's