The above (all delicious, by the way) are possibly the only Canadian foods that exist, or at least that I can think of. So having any sort of Canadian meal in London, let alone finding a restaurant for one, was always going to be a challenge.

Luckily for 202 Meals, there’s the Maple Leaf. I was floored when I heard about it from a Canadian seatmate on my first ever flight over here. Canadians aren’t used to having our identity celebrated in any way—we’re not even sure we have one. So the existence of a Canadian-themed pub in a foreign country is both an honour and a curiosity.

The pub, which sits on a little lane off Covent Garden, is a celebration of Canadian-ness in the most clichéd sense: all framed hockey jerseys and mountie paraphernalia, a portrait of John Molson and a gigantic (dead) stuffed bear. Squeeze through the middle-aged male crowd clogging the entrance, navigating past slightly grimy tables to the back wall by the fireplace, and you’ll be rewarded with the only London pub television that’s ever shown a National Hockey League game.

The typical low-end pub menu gives only a few token nods to the Canadian theme, like the “Full Mountie” burger (made with British beef) and some maple-drenched desserts. And most of what we tried didn’t really impress—MSG-laden nachos topped with cheese and salsa, meat loaf more like a meat mash, and “Buffalo wings” drenched in gloopy sweet barbecue sauce rather than the trademark vinegary spice they’re famous for in North America. But none of that mattered, as we were really here for two things: poutine and Canadian beer.

Our tasting panel had quite a lot of poutine expertise for a bunch of Londoners—fellow Canadians Sarah and Brian, and sceptical Matt, who once bravely downed the mixture of chips, cheese and gravy on a trip to Montreal. Only Karol had never tried it, but he had high expectations. I’d built it up over the past year in a series of drooling descriptions: back home, even Burger King has poutine, but the most authentic Quebec versions are dotted with delicious, mild cheese curds rather than slathered in melted cheddar.

Needless to say, it was the latter here—large, formerly frozen chips lying limply in thick gravy and sprinkled with shreds of cheese so faint as to be almost undetectable. Luckily, chips and gravy are always a comforting food no matter how little thought goes into them. And, as Brian noted, the presentation—on gleaming white plates, with actual cutlery—was an interesting departure from the greasy boxes that normally hold the concoction.

Two Canadian beers were more of a success. Sleemans Honey Brown, available on tap, is a darker than average lager and infused with a honey sweetness bordering on Belgian; and there’s always something comforting about bottles of Moosehead, although the beer itself isn’t that special. (The Sleemans Cream Ale, alas, was not as creamy as I remembered, and we skipped the famous but bland Molson Canadian.)

Soon we were ready for what was meant to be the highlight of the night—dipping into a box of London’s take on Tim Hortons doughnuts, which I’d brought over from the Spar on Haymarket that’s now selling them. Strangely, Tim Hortons has licensed its doughnuts (and coffee and muffins) to just this one London Spar location, which has become a bit legendary for Canadian ex-pats, even though the word is they taste nothing like the real thing. Now that I’ve tried them, I can agree that they don’t, nor do they look it, save for the comforting Canadian doughnut chain logo-covered packaging, which is the same as back home. Really, they’re just the usual flat, misshapen, lying-all-day-in-a-corner shop kind of doughnut. Only two varieties bore any resemblance to true Tim Hortons flavours: the maple glazed and old-fashioned glazed. But instead of the cakey freshness I’ve grown up with, they were dry, and the maple glaze hard and gritty rather than the soft, fudgy topping I’m used to.

Still, it was really fun to sit, armed with Tim Hortons paraphernalia, in a kitschy Canadian pub for the night, attracting a bewildered Montrealer to our table to ask where we’d gotten the doughnuts. And it’s comforting to know that there’s a place to go for yummy, if overpriced, Sleeman’s. Spar’s doughnuts and the Maple Leaf may not be the best Canadian ambassadors, but it’s nice to have them around, especially for an identity-starved Canadian.

In summary

The Maple Leaf
41 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden, London, WC2E 7LJ
020 7240 2843

More Canadian

The Canada/Australia/New Zealand/South Africa shop down the street from the Maple Leaf on Maiden Lane stocks goodies common to Canadian supermarkets, like Kraft Dinner, Kool-Aid and Shake ‘n Bake, Canadian beer, and yes, plenty of maple syrup products.

Firstly, some Toronto foods we miss in London:

Vietnamese subs (Bánh mì) and ubiquitous Phở restaurants

Bánh mì are sold from dedicated delis in Toronto’s downtown Chinatown-cum-Vietnamtown. Reflecting the French colonial influence on Vietnam, they fill a baguette with pâté, preserved meats, and a seasoned Vietnamese salad mix of pickled daikon and carrot.

The ubiquity of Phở (the classic Vietnamese beef noodle soup) and Bún chả (grilled pork on vermicelli and salad) in Toronto were also responsible for turning me on to the delights of London’s east-end Vietnamese cluster. Phở hung on Spadina was my regular haunt in T.O, and Cây Tre on Old Street is the best I’ve tried so far in London (it’s always busy, although may be resting a little on its laurels recently).

Chinese dumpling houses

While London has many dim-sum restaurants, from mediocre chains to classy Hong-Kong-style eateries, the dumpling house is a simpler, cheaper and ultimately more satisfying proposition. The menu is typically simple—batches of freshly made dumplings come boiled, steamed or pan-fried. They’re dipped to taste in a hand-crafted mix of the soy sauce, vinegar and chilli available at the table. Some menus add a few sides, and some diversify to pancakes and buns, but the focus is clear: you’re there to scoff warm dough-clad parcels of meat. Wash them down with some tea on the house, and you’re ready to head out into a cold afternoon.

Mother’s dumplings, at Dundas and Huron, offered the best in Toronto, made and served by a genuine Chinese mum in a basement dining room. Where is London’s answer?

Pierogi and Kiełbasa

Pierogi are Polish dumplings, filled variously with cheese, potato and meat; kiełbasa is just Polish sausage in its numerous forms. Despite London’s sizeable Polish population, these delicacies prove surprisingly elusive here. Sometimes they’ll appear in an innocuous Polish-owned corner shop, but in Toronto they’re readily available in all supermarkets.

Perhaps it’s the cold weather, and the number of early Ukrainian settlers in Canada, which account for the wider popularity of Eastern European food in Toronto. Future Bakery on Bloor is as good a place as any to try a Canadian take on the region’s cuisine, while in London, try Polanka in Hammersmith for an authentic Polish deli and restaurant.

Farmer’s sausage

This one is perhaps a genuine original Canadian foodstuff, albeit heavily influenced by the German wurst. Andrea has searched high and low for these in London to no avail—Winnipeggers here allege that they’re little known beyond the Mennonite communities of Manitoba, although they evidently make their way to Toronto.

Frequent complaints are also directed at the scarcity of German sausage in London. These were something I was fed regularly as a child, but seem less common these days in supermarkets. Luckily Kurz and Lang have sprung up in Clerkenwell offering a very authentic German sausage experience—great fast food with potatoes and sauerkraut on the side.

Now, here’s what I missed from London whilst in Canada:

Mince pies

And in fact anything made from mincemeat. Homemade mincemeat, made from chopped apples, dried fruit and nuts, sugar, spice, cider and booze and matured for months in sealed jars, has been a yearly fixture throughout most of my life. The warm little shortcrust pies which result, sprinkled with icing sugar, seem so essential to getting through the winter that I craved them desperately during my first Canadian winter. (I will say this though—the mince pie’s reputation suffers needlessly from the poor flavour and consistency of their shop-bought imitations. What is it that lends even a high-end Marks and Spencer pie that cloying aftertaste of preservatives?)

Christmas pudding, and puddings in general

To me Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these (and one of my Nana’s ice-cream Christmas puddings on Boxing Day, a dish as tasty as it is sacrilegious). The plum pudding, as it’s otherwise known, is another rich, long-maturing English dish made from similar ingredients to mincemeat. It contains a lot of booze, which keeps it well-preserved during the maturation process, and is traditionally served with a sprig of holly and a flame of burning brandy.

While richer and fruitier than the typical variety, it also serves as a great example of a traditional English Pudding—a foodstuff not so common in North America. The true pudding is boiled or steamed in a cloth, and is typically quite heavy, carb-filled and high on suet, a form of animal fat. Golden Syrup, another very British ingredient, also tends to feature heavily. Traditionally these would be tied up over the fireplace and cooked over the same big pot as your dinner (whoever said British food is simple?), but these days you’re as likely to try a baked version, with gourmet flourishes, in one of London’s more traditionally leaning gastropubs.

English-style pork sausages and bacon

We agree to disagree on this one, but to my mind, nothing beats a good quality, well-constructed English pork sausage—especially when bramley apple or leek are added to the mix. I also sorely craved back bacon in Canada. The kind generally available there is what we refer to as “streaky bacon”—the cheap, fatty kind cut from the pork belly—and it’s typically fried to a crisp. A really rich, juicy, thick, sizzled slice of good quality back bacon is one of the best things in the world, and probably one of the biggest enemies of vegetarianism known to man. The “bacon butty”, too, is a simple wonder not commonly eaten over the pond.

Lardy cake

This dubiously named desert is a speciality of various southern counties, including Oxfordshire, where they can be (and were, frequently, by me) purchased in Oxford’s covered market. Yeasty dough is rolled in thin layers with sugar, lard and numerous raisins, then baked until the top crisps up to a syrupy crust, the middle remaining soft and horribly tasty. It will probably give you a heart attack.

Good curry restaurants

Not that there aren’t any in Toronto—in fact, Toronto has a Little India in on Gerrard Street in the east end. But the curry is not the cultural institution that it is here, and most of the restaurants I visited proved decidedly mediocre. Some all-you-can-pig Indian buffet joints on Queen West made up for this in their sheer generosity, but I saw neither the variety of regional Indian cooking, nor the range of Bangladeshi and Pakistani specialities which London boasts.

Good quality sliced-bread sandwiches

While great subs and panini are in abundance in Toronto, a decent sandwich on sliced bread seems hard to find. When you do find one, the fillings and general quality and freshness are no match for the yuppie lunch pickings we’ve come to expect over here from the likes of Pret a Manger and Marks and Spencer.

Overall, I would call this world food competition a draw.

Relative to others, I feel that neither British nor Canadian food is desperately distinctive—both are known as much for an amalgamation of foreign cuisines as for their own. I think the advantage of Toronto is that, because of the large number of first- and second-generation immigrant communities living near to downtown, it’s easier to find really authentic, affordable, international home-style cooking when dining out. Easier, too, to find a wide variety of great, affordable ethnic supermarkets and ingredients within easy reach. St. Lawrence and Kensington markets also offer a great range of foodie shops.

London does have some advantages too. Biased as I am, I would give us Brits the edge in terms of the depth of our culinary history, despite our tendencies to over-boil vegetables and disgust the French. London also benefits from its sheer size, and the number of top-class restaurants it hosts. We have a great number of specialised (if expensive) foodie shops and long-standing food markets, including the wonderful Borough Market, but also Billingsgate, Smithfield and others. London is also the home of the gastropub, which while something of a recent and occasionally-sneered-at construction, does boast a distinctively British food experience.

One thing I regret is that restaurant eating in England does still seem to carry more of a pricey, “special night out” connotation than in North America. Toronto restaurants are happier to hand out sides and top up drinks on the house, “all-you-can-eat” menus are more common (something of a mixed blessing), and in general, eating out seems a little more casual, affordable and generous as a social activity. We are coming closer to this, especially in metropolitan centres like London, but there’s still some work to do.