Welcome to our blog
There’s no roadmap for a life spent chasing the next great meal. You stumble into it—sometimes in the back of a dive bar, sometimes at a family table where the recipe’s older than the country you’re in. I’m Julie Harris—chef, pub owner, cookbook author, and unapologetic eater. I’ve burned my hands in too many kitchens, spilled too many drinks behind the bar, and still, I keep coming back for more. Because food isn’t just food—it’s history, people, and the stories we tell over the last bite on the plate. From the late-night fry-ups in my pub to the smoky backstreets of Asia, this is where we get our hands greasy, our bellies full, and our passports stamped in sauce. Welcome to the journey.
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The candy apple: Sweetness with a dash of darkness
Somewhere in the dark recesses of my childhood memories, wedged between paper skeletons and pumpkin guts, lives the candy apple. You know the one – luridly…
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Beefed-up Tuesdays: Noodles, mince, and a one-way ticket to flavour town
There’s an allure to Asian cuisine that feels like wandering through the back alleys of a bustling market, not knowing what’s around the corner but knowing…
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Burned-end eggrolls: A Canadian essential England hasn’t met (yet)
Imagine my dismay—my slow-burn heartbreak—as I scoured England for the perfect, fried crisp of a burned-end eggroll and found, time and again, nothing but silence. The…
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How a bowl of chowder schooled me in the ways of Bermuda
Bermuda—idyllic, pristine, and the kind of place that draws families for its pink-sand beaches and glossy travel brochures. But I wasn’t interested in the perfectly curated…
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The fruit cocktail cake: A boozy legend that refused to die
If you’ve spent any time at neighborhood potlucks, you know that every event has its star. Some dishes just don’t mess around. There’s always that one…
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Meatballs and Memories: A Tribute to Jim Jenkins
I remember the man before I remember the meatballs, but not by much. Jim Jenkins—my dad’s best friend and neighbor—was a fixture of my childhood, a…