Sunday lunch as a kid was roast chicken bursting with pork-sausage stuffing.  The family gathered with grandparents: my grandmother a housewife, my grandfather an armature winder on the local mine.  (The photo above is of an old advert for an armature winder.)

Today’s Sunday lunch was a solitary affair in a Japanese restaurant in Fort McMurray.  In the old days, I doubt we even knew there was a place called Japan, net alone that they had a cuisine so different from the roast chicken, roast potatoes, and yorkshire pudding fatty variety we loved. 

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