One of the cool things about Buffalo is how close it is to Canada. So near, in fact, that Heidi's family's favorite Chinese place is in Fort Erie, just over the Peace Bridge, and their go-to beach, Shirkston, was on the Canadian shore of Lake Erie. It used to be nothing to cross the border back and forth; people regularly lived in one country and worked in the other. All that easy access changed, first after the attacks on September 11, 2001, and then again during the COVID shutdowns and these days, traveling between the U.S. and Canada can be much more complicated than before.
But not always. Last night, the four of us drove to Niagara Falls, Canada, to have dinner at Swiss Chalet. This Canadian chain is known for its rotisserie chicken and proprietary sauce (not sure where the Swiss connection comes in). There used to be a few outlets here in the States, but more than a decade ago, they packed up their roasting spits and moved back home.
Some of Heidi's family has been mourning the loss ever since, and they are more than willing to make the trip to enjoy a favorite meal. And that's how we found ourselves rolling through Canada last evening. The light was golden as we crossed the Niagara River, and immigration and customs were quick and polite. Before long, we were driving to a Canadian strip mall, so like those in our nation, and yet so different. There was no question we were in another country, and that was cool.
The chicken? Was dry, and the sauce, heavy on the allspice, was not to my taste at all. But the Molson on tap was cold, and I would go again any time, both for the good of the group and the excitement of being somewhere else.
Molson on tap! How very Canadian.
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