After much anticipation and excitement, Tim Hortons opened in Mistissini last week. A giant blow-up of the signature brown cup hovered over the new franchise, beckoning me. I stopped in to have a look as I passed by on my daily walk. Half the population of the town was standing in a snaking line. I planned to come back once the fervour died down.
A few days later, driving past Tim Hortons with Andy, I had a sudden craving for a rich café mocha, with whipped cream – a treat I reserved for myself on Fridays when I worked downtown Montreal.
This time, the other half of Mistissini’s population was standing in line. I was desperate for my café mocha. My need had escalated, and now I required a double chocolate donut (with glaze) to accompany it.
Lining up is torture for me. After a few minutes my legs wobble, my back aches and my eyes cross…
Brainstorm! I recalled a setup for fancy coffees at a nearby gas station.
We headed across the street and prepared a cappuccino for each of us. On the way to the cash, Andy grabbed a cinnamon bun from a shelf. I normally check due dates on any item I purchase along with the ingredient list, and the caloric values, but it seemed fresh enough.
Andy was violently ill the next day. A stomach flu? We did a quick inventory of everything we consumed the last day and the only difference was the cinnamon bun.
I pulled the wrapper out of the garbage and noticed that cream cheese was on the list of ingredients. What could possibly be in cream cheese so that it has an everlasting shelf life? Isn’t cream cheese supposed to be refrigerated?
Maybe the pastry was the culprit, maybe not, but next time I will stand strong at Timmies!