, a pre-seasoned clamato that identifies itself as “All natural. Small batch. Proudly Canadian.” Everyone clings tight to their opinion on which is best.
As the story goes, it was called simply a Caesar until an Englishman blurted to Chell, “That’s a bloody good Caesar,” But it rarely appears like that on any menus, a Canadian friend was quick to confirm. “It’s just a Caesar—like it’s just hockey, not ice hockey,” she informed me. And the American lens through which I viewed Canada was instantly shattered.
It’s also worth noting that all of the iconic tomato-based foods, from marinara sauce to gazpacho to salsa, are a bit of an historical anomaly. Past societies did not look kindly on the tomato. In the 1700s, in fact, it was called the “” because lords and ladies of Europe’s upper class died after eating them. But it was eventually discovered that the killer was the pewter plates: the tomatoes would leach the poisonous lead.
As a Canadian, I condemn this abomination of a beverage, along with all tomato juice-based beverages.
Now do an article on butter tarts and ketchup chips, 2 of our other staples.