“Is this place Canadian or something?” asked my ten-year-old daughter. I chuckled as I looked around the restaurant. There were strings of Canadian flags, a preponderance of plaid, and a song by the band Rush played on the sound system. The restaurant’s menu revolved around one iconic dish from our Neighbor to the North: poutine.
I spied him as soon as I stepped outside, the precocious toddler barreling through the garden, his mom in pursuit. His baby sister sat on their dad’s lap at a table nearby, soaking up the morning sunshine. You’d never guess that such an idyllic family scene was found in a beer garden. Yet the beer