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Rice in your pantry is almost all imported. Canada grows no commercial rice (wild rice is different); most retail rice comes from the U.S., India, and Thailand.
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But wild rice is ours. Manoomin—an Indigenous staple of the Great Lakes—is a culturally significant native grain (not a true rice) still harvested and celebrated across parts of Ontario and the Prairies.
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Pasta begins on the Prairies. Canada is a top global exporter of durum wheat (the semolina for pasta); Canadians ate about 7.9 kg of pasta per person in 2020.
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Pizza dominates Canadian menus. In early 2024, pizza was the leading restaurant sub-category by number of menu items nationwide.
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Canada’s first pizzeria dates to 1948. Montreal’s Little Italy claims the honour with Pizzeria Napoletana, still serving pies today.
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Hawaiian pizza is Canadian. Sam Panopoulos created it in 1962 at the Satellite Restaurant in Chatham, Ontario—sweet pineapple, salty ham, global debate ever since.
Bright, fresh, and endlessly adaptable — this Mexican-inspired rice bowl brings a little sunshine to the table. It’s the kind of meal that feels at home anywhere in Canada: simple enough for a weeknight, vibrant enough for a backyard barbecue. With grilled lemon chicken, smoky chili yogurt, and all the colours of summer corn and peppers, it’s comfort food with a healthy, west-coast feel.
A true weeknight classic—leftover rice from yesterday, a handful of frozen peas, and a bit of Sunday ham become a hot, savoury bowl in minutes. It’s the kind of skillet supper that fits Canadian kitchens: practical, fast, and perfect after hockey practice or a cold walk home.
A weeknight casserole the way many of us grew up eating it here—simple, satisfying, and built from pantry staples. Tender chicken, mushrooms, and spinach tucked into a creamy sauce sparked with English mustard. It’s humble, it’s cozy, and it feeds a table without fuss.
Paella, the way we make it here, feels like humble food with a big heart—rice taking on the flavours of what’s at hand, a little chorizo for warmth, peas for sweetness, and chicken crisped in the oven so everyone gets a crackly piece. It’s the kind of pan you set in the middle of the table after a long day—boots by the door, stories starting—proof that simple ingredients, cooked with care, can gather a room and feed it well.
Risotto is the kind of dish that slows you down — demanding patience and rewarding it with creamy, comforting perfection. For me, it carries the memory of crisp Canadian autumns spent mushroom picking, baskets filled with chanterelles or morels, the forest floor alive with colour and scent. Across Canada, mushroom foraging has become both tradition and passion, from BC’s golden chanterelles to Quebec’s prized morels. This dish brings that wild bounty into the kitchen, pairing Italian technique with Canadian harvests for a bowl that feels rustic, seasonal, and deeply comforting.
This recipe carries the heart of home cooking — tender chicken meatballs in a rich tomato sauce, served not over pasta but over zucchini noodles, a clever twist that feels both comforting and fresh. In Canada, where backyard gardens overflow with zucchini each summer, this dish has become a seasonal ritual. Families who once baked endless zucchini loaves or handed off extras to neighbours now spiralize them into silky noodles — a modern answer to an age-old garden surplus. It’s a meal that blends tradition with creativity, offering comfort that’s lighter on the plate but just as satisfying at the table.
Bolognese, or ragù alla bolognese, is the heart of Italian comfort cooking — a sauce that rewards patience, slowly simmered until rich, silky, and full of depth. When Italian immigrants arrived in Canada, they brought this tradition with them, adapting it with local beef, pork, and pantry staples. Over time, Bolognese became a family favourite from coast to coast — whether ladled over spaghetti, layered into lasagna, or even spooned onto a baked potato on a snowy Prairie evening. It’s a dish that bridges old-world heritage with Canadian warmth and practicality.
There’s something magical about making pasta from scratch — the feel of the dough under your hands, the rhythm of rolling, and the joy of sealing each little pillow of filling. This version, with sausage, ricotta, and spinach, has the heart of Italian tradition but feels perfectly Canadian when made with artisan ricotta and market-fresh greens. In Toronto’s Little Italy or Montreal’s Jean-Talon Market, dishes like this became part of Canada’s food story, bridging family kitchens and community tables with a sense of both heritage and home.
Golden, crisp on the outside and molten inside, arancini are the ultimate comfort bite. Born in Sicily as a thrifty way to use leftover risotto, they’ve travelled the world — and in Canada, they’ve found a home at kitchens and gatherings where thrift meets indulgence. Stuffed with gooey mozzarella (or even smoky cheddar for a Canadian twist), they’re the kind of dish that turns “leftovers” into something worth celebrating.
Pizza night in Canada is more than dinner — it’s tradition. From Friday nights to birthday parties, homemade pizza means family gathered around the table, kids stretching dough with flour-dusted hands, and everyone claiming a corner or slice with their favourite toppings. While Italian immigrants first brought pizza here, Canadians made it their own — from Ontario’s world-famous Hawaiian invention in 1962 to the bacon-mushroom-pepper “Canadian classic.” It’s a dish that feels homemade, celebratory, and endlessly adaptable.
There’s something wonderfully nostalgic about this dish — smoky bacon, sweet onions, and the burst of fresh tomatoes straight from the garden. For me, it captures late Canadian summers when the tomato plants were heavy with fruit, and the kitchen always smelled of something bubbling on the stove. Using Canadian bacon gives it a uniquely local touch, turning a humble, quick supper into a dish that celebrates both harvest and homegrown flavour.
This pasta is quick, light, and endlessly forgiving — exactly the kind of dish that shows up on the table when Canadian summers run hot and the last thing you want is to fuss in the kitchen. It was always a kids’ favourite in our house: bright with tomato, salty with olives and capers, and just enough tuna to make it hearty. Best of all, it tastes just as good cold the next day, ready to be packed into a picnic basket or served on the back deck in the evening sun.
Macaroni and cheese was a staple at my grandma’s table — rich, creamy, and always made with Balderson cheddar, that iconic Ontario cheese with a sharp, nutty bite. She never bothered with fancy toppings or baking it in the oven; her version went straight from the pot to the plate, gooey and comforting. For us, it wasn’t just supper — it was tradition, rooted in Canadian flavour and simplicity.
Some recipes just feel like home on a cold Canadian night, and this is one of them. Creamy, hearty, and quick to throw together, it was the kind of weeknight favourite that warmed the kitchen while snow fell outside. With tender chicken, bright broccoli, and that nostalgic creaminess from mushroom soup and sour cream, this dish carried many families through long winters — comfort food that proves simple can be deeply satisfying.
Some dishes carry a wave of nostalgia, and for me this one brings back the buzz of Canadian chain restaurants in the ’90s and early 2000s — places like Jack Astor’s, where oversized bowls of creamy pasta meant comfort, fun, and a night out with friends or family. Their sun-dried tomato chicken pasta was a standout: tangy, rich, and indulgent enough to feel special, yet familiar enough to become a weeknight favourite at home.
Perogies take me straight back to Christmas gatherings — flour dusting the counters, family crowded into the kitchen, and trays of dumplings waiting to be boiled and fried. As kids, they were always the best part of the meal: soft pillows stuffed with potato and cheese, piled high with bacon, tomatoes, and sour cream. Making them from scratch is a labour of love, but one that tastes like home and tradition in so many Canadian families.
Few dishes shout Canada as loudly as poutine. Born in rural Quebec in the 1950s, when a diner customer asked for cheese curds on fries and the cook replied “ça va faire une maudite poutine” (“that’s going to make a damn mess”), it has since become a national icon. Today Canadians eat it everywhere from hockey arenas to gourmet bistros, with more than 36 million servings enjoyed each year. Crispy fries, squeaky cheese curds, and silky gravy come together in a dish that is indulgent, comforting, and unmistakably Canadian.