National Post (National Edition)
Why Canadians love American restaurant chains.
WHY DO CANADIANS GO APE FOR AMERICAN FOOD?
‘What is Shake Shack?” Michael Tran, 26, asked from his place in the long line of burgerenthusiasts sprawling down University Avenue and up Queen Street.
“Are you serious?” A woman signed, looking up from her phone to roll her eyes.
He was. Tran had been told to wait there by a friend. One who, like the thousands of others lined up outside on a cold January morning in Toronto, was eager to try the first taste of the American burger chain Shake Shack in Canada.
It should have come as no surprise that a line had started to form before 9:30 in the morning even though the popular American burger shop did not open until noon. Yet the one-day only pop up at Momofuku Daisho had spurred a level of pandemonium still hard to believe months after it happened. Thousands of people wrapped around the block. Several breaking news crews broadcasted the day’s top story: there was a new burger shop in town.
After I was done feeling morally superior for being invited to the morning’s VIP media preview before the pop-up officially opened to the public, I felt guilty for my American cheeseburger spoils. There I was stuffing a free burger in my face at eleven in the morning when countless people were freezing outside, praying they might be blessed with the opportunity to pay for theirs. I decided to smuggle one out to give to a stranger waiting in line.
When I hinted I might be selling the burger instead of giving it away, a man grabbed $60 out of his wallet and shoved it in my direction.
“Is that a real Shake Shack burger in there?” He demanded. “And crinkle fries?” I nodded. “How’s 60 bucks?” He asked, as others began eyeing our exchange and reaching for their own wallets.
It was as though the city had never seen a cheeseburger in its life.
There is almost nothing more exciting to our Canadian food culture than when a little piece of Americana gets lugged across the border and offered to us. Every day the napes of our Canadian necks are grabbed and craned to watch our southern neighbours go about their days. It is exhausting.
“We sometimes like to think that, you know, Americans will pay attention to us from time to time, too,” Prime Minister Justin Trudeau told 60 Minutes reporter Lara Logan in an interview last year.
The Prime Minister had a point. Even if you are the most apolitical, indifferent kind of person, simple tasks like online shopping — where retailers often make products unavailable in Canada — or watching a video online — where broadcasters such as NBC don’t make videos available to Canadians — will remind you of your place in the world. And that is: distinctly not in America.
On the occasion that something American decides Canada is worthy of its attention, we feel quietly, explosively validated. Of course we would never admit this. We don’t actually like America that much. But so much of our mental energy is inadvertently allotted to our neighbour that any attention returned from it feels like an excruciatingly overdue consolation prize. The opening of American restaurants in Canada is almost always an example of this, as many are met with desperately hungry lines before they even open their doors.
“I know there are burgers that compare in Toronto, but I’m doing this for the novelty factor,” says Aoife Graham, 25, from her spot in line at the Shake Shack opening. “And I’ve heard the burgers are pretty good.”
“I just got a nine-to-five job, so I want to take advantage of my open schedule while I still can and this seemed like a fun thing to do,” adds Rafi Karim, 24.
While Shake Shack is good, it’s not give-a-stranger-sixty-dollars-for-a-coldhamburger-and-pray-thisisn’t-a-trick-and-they-didn’tpoison-you levels of good. Especially when Toronto has what is, in my opinion, a better burger at The Burger’s Priest, where even on busy days the wait is never longer than ten minutes.
But Shake Shack is not the first American restaurant that we have welcomed with over-eager open wallets, and it won’t be the last.
In 2010 we witnessed the cross-country expansion of Washington D.C. based verygood-but-not-great burger chain Five Guys, which now boasts over 40 locations in six provinces. This was followed by the American expansion of Tex Mex giant Chipotle, and the perfectly forgettable American soup and sandwich eatery Panera Bread. Meanwhile, lines of diners anxious for a slurp of Momofuku’s famous noodles still wrapped around the block weeks after the opening of New York chef David Chang’s Momofuku Toronto outpost. And, despite the fact that the restaurant had been the recipient of a series of horrible reviews, diners lined up for a taste of vegan big macs at Doomie’s, the first Canadian instalment of the popular LA-based vegan comfort food restaurant in Toronto.
Had a regular Toronto restaurant been the recipient of the same bad press, it’s unlikely that people would have lined up with the same excitement. Yet Doomie’s came equipped with a special culinary certification: being American.
The trend of loving American culinary attention should be harmless enough. Yet as many Canadian restaurants continue to struggle to turn a profit and keep doors open, it can be frustrating to see diners completely lose it over the opening of another American chain. I have heard countless chefs and restaurateurs wonder how they might be able to get more people through the door: should they change the menu? Lower prices? Make a viral dish? Hire a PR agency? The truth is that few moves are ever as fruitful as simply being American.
Eating at Momofuku, Shake Shack or even Chipotle offers an in to a cultural narrative from which we often feel excluded but are forced to watch. Through burrito bowls, ramen noodles and American cheese we find our own version of inclusion, one that makes the Saturday Night Live video you couldn’t watch online or the sneakers you couldn’t buy a little more bearable. This is the power of American food.
One of the big things I miss about New York is not my friends so much; it’s Shake Shack, the burger place. I miss Shake Shack. — AZIZ ANSARI