Treats Make Memories for A Snowmobile Gourmet…
Related: Ontario’s Best Butter Tarts
So when did I become a snowmobile gourmet? Every pasta meal flashes me back to my longest ride. I foolishly agreed to a 30-kilometre, nighttime trip to town and back — immediately after scarfing down a major spaghetti feast.
That starchy lump in my belly seemed to expand with each unseen bump. It lurchied around in there like an alien embryo break-dancing. I won’t even relate my urgent desperation to find an open washroom in town that late. Suffice it to say that I have a reputation for forced entry at a certain convenience store that was trying to close.
That being said, there is definitely a right way to eat while snowmobiling, so check out this classic STV video…
Good Snowmobile Gourmet Memories
But my culinary adventures have been good and bad. I fondly recall Crowsnest Pass, Alberta, when we pulled into a sheltered copse of towering, fragrant evergreens. Over an open fire, we barbecued succulent smokies, eagerly consumed with crunchy pickles and big hunks of fresh cheese.
I also remember the million-dollar chalet-cum-clubhouse atop Brohm Ridge, near Squamish, B.C. Here, club members miraculously produced a catered gourmet lunch capped by a tantalizing raspberry-chocolate mousse. Then there was that maple syrup brioche at a New Brunswick sugar shack, the butter tarts at Trudy’s near Bancroft, and le gâteau blanc à la sucre à la crême at Auberge La Cuillère à Pot in Saint-Donat, Québec. And what about that hearty family brunch at a gravel-floored, club shack in the back forty near Hanover? My love handles tingle at the gastronomical memories.
Not So Good Snowmobile Gourmet Memories
The bad was an authentic Habitant meal on Rendezvous ‘94, somewhere in La Belle Province. My only comment about this particular workingman’s lunch was that it would drive me to work too — so I could afford something better! I was feeling queasy before we even saddled up again. Within half an hour, I was seasick, or whatever it’s called on a snowmobile. But the pace of this official Ontario to New Brunswick ride couldn’t slow for one sick puppy, so I endured, teeth clamped tightly shut against the heaves.
Snowmobile Gourmet Tips
In our younger days we didn’t do lunch. So we’d rack up lots of miles and never worry about overeating. Today, most of my compatriots are more civilized (and plumper), so every lunch stop becomes a test of my willpower. A full meal or simply soup and salad, before dessert? I carry a large supply of antacid tablets for all those bad occasions when my eyes serve my stomach ill.
Rock Hard Energy Bars
I carry chocolate bars in case we’re going to be late or miss a meal for some reason. For emergencies, I also have those high-energy performance bars. After testing one recently, it would take a dire crisis indeed for me to partake again.
Here’s a consumption tip: their tar-like consistency is hazardous to dentures, fillings and loose teeth. Except if the bar is frozen solid (more than likely while snowmobiling). Then you’ll probably break a chopper unless you can get your nourishment from fast licking.
Frequently, I transport two other menu choices: beverages and candies. Even though we may not realize it, our bodies are constantly venting moisture during a long day of riding, so dehydration is a concern. Ever since an over-shaken soft drink exploded in my seat compartment, I’ve chug-a-lugged sport drinks in sturdy plastic containers which I can refill with water if need be.
Suck on Werther’s
Hard candies assuage my hungries or a dry mouth They are also handy to share with the gang at trail stops. Plus, I use one as my personal trail smoothness gauge. I rate a trail by how long I can hold a candy between my back molars without cracking it on a mogul.
I prefer individually wrapped Werther’s Caramel candies because they don’t muck up the inside of my pockets. Unless I forget to remove them at season’s end. Then the washing machine and a hot summer turn them into a sticky mess.
Bring on the Sugar Pie
I am renown for my love of chocolate ice cream. But in Francophone regions I am a helpless victim of sugar pie – “tarte au sucre”. While snowmobiling, I consider it my personal mission to track down the best one on the planet. With any luck, this prolonged epicurean search will soon replace that spaghetti marathon as the longest ride of my life.
The tips and advice in this blog are the opinions of the author, may not work in every situation and are intended only for the convenience and interest of the reader, who has the personal responsibility to confirm the validity, accuracy and relevancy of this information prior to putting it to their own use.