I managed to get out of bed today, despite the haze of turkey, last night’s wine and menstrual cramps. There was a cat to medicate (who, has invented several new yoga poses in an attempt to lick out his stitches) and a looming pile of dishes to get done.
As I closed the door and felt the gentle rays of October light meet my otherwise vitamin D deficient skin, I thought that maybe today was the day I finally had a good idea. Something I cared about, that might for once leave the world a better place than I left it. But for now, I had to rustle up something my cat, Frankie, would eat with his meds mixed in. Off to find cat soup.
My cat - Frankie (before surgery)

As I walked briskly down the neatly paved sidewalk of my East Toronto neighbourhood, I reflected among the now falling leaves as the cold air met my hot-mess energy. It’s been a stressful week. Frankie, our eight year old rescue, had to go under for surgery to remove a hidden secret that was missed when he was first fixed. He hasn’t been taking to surgical recovery well either, and after a panic on Thanksgiving Monday, we managed to get him a spot to look at his stitches today (Tuesday).
I haven’t gotten any freelancing work yet this month. While I love that what I do is creative and gives me a lot of free time to take care of my house, my partner and chase other creative ideas; I don’t love how sporadic the work is. It’s hitting that mid-month point where after no leads on work, I begin to worry about how worth-it my “adventure in advertising” has been. But hey, I work for a Canadian agency and it was just a long weekend. Maybe I’ll hear something this week.
The news was filled with stories about how inflation hit an all time low last month. Only 1.6 percent! Woo! On top of everything else that’s already been inflated. What a boon. Not. Shit is too expensive in Toronto already. How did it get this way? Maybe I should go back home to Alberta.
By the time I picked up cat soup and a breakfast sandwich for myself, I was thankfully feeling a bit more optimistic. Waking up in the maw of negative thought is not fun, and honestly something I’ve been doing too much of lately. I stay in bed longer than I should. I feel bad for not creating anything. The stress then makes it that much harder to create anything. My inner critic shoots down any idea I have, and I continue to stagnate. This is the cycle I am trying to break. Normally, my partner Will would be up by now too and that would motivate me to keep trying. But, he’s been sick with a lung infection and also worried sick about Frankie.
Back home, I shoved the sandwich down my throat, and made sure the cat got his meds down his throat too. The double cone situation we’ve had to implement so he doesnt eviscerate his surgical site again has made it hard for him to eat, so I spoon feed him. Thankfully Frankie loves his soup, so it’s not hard to coax him into taking the meds. Then, I turn to defeating what Will calls the “final boss of Thanksgiving” - the dishes.
Normally, Will would never make me do such a large chore by myself. Poor guy even asked me if it was okay, in a choked up whisper this morning. Of course it’s fine. He needed his sleep, and I needed to clear my head. Something as repetitive as doing the dishes is good for that.
In the maelstrom of the soapy, greasy soup that was cleaning up last night’s feast, I thought about how despite the amount of effort it took for us to roast and cook a turkey dinner for two people, I was looking forward to not doing the shopping for the next while. How between our mashed potatoes, roasted beets, glazed carrots, butterscotch pie, turkey with stuffing, cranberry jelly and gravy, how cost effective this was. Which was good, but felt weird. Something isn’t right with that picture. What is it?
As I lost two of my fake nails in a battle against a slippery roasting pan, it occurred to me that holiday dinners are traditionally, the least cost effective way to meal plan. They’re excessive. That’s the point. To sit on your ass with your family around a table loaded with anything and everything. It’s comfort eating, to the max, mukbangs be damned.
Have groceries really gotten so expensive that a childless couple can plan an elaborate feast for less than the amount of money per portion than it takes for a typical weeknight meal schedule? Good god. Like, we all knew the price of groceries was tilted in this country, but is it really this backwards now? Come to think of it, eating out is even more expensive than staying at home.
As a couple, Will and I both love going out to eat. Will is also a prolific chef, so the love for food in our household has been cranked up quite a lot. My cooking has gotten considerably better since I met him - especially since a lot of the time, he’s too tired after slaving over a hot stove all day to cook for us. A common trope among chefs, honestly. All the chefs I know live on diets of ramen noodles, nachos, the occasional raw carrot and lots of delivery pizza. Even Marco Pierre White admits his wife does most of the cooking at home.

A pic of some of Will's french toast he serves up at every Sunday brunch at work.
So it’s too expensive to eat at home, and it’s too expensive to go out. My generation is also struggling with what has been dubbed an “epidemic of loneliness”, mostly due to not being able to go out, or use third places in our lives. Instead, the internet replaced our typical third places of cafes, clubs, bars, etc.
It was at this point I felt how wrinkly my fingers had gotten from the murky depths of my kitchen sink. As I rubbed the tips of my fingers together, I thought “But it’s not like this everywhere in the world.”
And, it’s not. In fact, the countries western Millennials/Gen Z are often obsessed with have thriving nightlife and dining scenes. Places like South Korea and Japan. Japan famously has high grocery prices. So high, it’s usually easier for locals to eat out. To my understanding, this is because each region has some type of produce, or meat they specialize in. And they take great pride in perfecting the cultivation of these specialties. Restaurants are usually cut a deal from suppliers that supplant their cost concerns, making it easier to eat out and profit.
It’s a bit of a paradox then, that these models of consumption exist in countries that are nowhere near the geographical size of Canada, but inversely have (in Japan’s case) over three times the population. In the Tokyo Metropolitan Area alone, you can fit all of Canada’s populace. You would think naturally, these places would mirror Canada’s problems with food prices today. There’s far more mouths to feed, and much, much less land. How is it that they don’t struggle the way we do?
In a time filled with food banks pushed to the brink, restaurants closing at an alarming rate, people boycotting the nation’s largest grocery chains, and general loneliness and discontent, this might be something worth investigating.
As I clutched the final fork of last night’s mess in my hand I thought:
How might we partner with current supply chain stakeholders to reinvigorate third places and Canada’s dining scene?
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