The midway felt smaller this year. My old carny boss told me that wedged between Doug Ford’s pawning of Ontario Place and the still unfinished Ontario Line promised for the World Cup, parking for the CNE and its casino has eaten further into the fairground. It’s dog eat dog, and cars are not the only hungry ones. Not the only attrition. Year after year, the main draw to this carnival and many others is not rides or games, but food. Bigger. Nastier. Dumber. The stretch of pavement I ran “fortune falls” as a teenager is now a gangway of food trucks, each vying for your money and posts with new configurations of candy and pickles.
I’m usually resilient to the stunt foods. I aim to keep the nastiest thing I’ve had on the fairground as that coffee creamer I mistook for a milkshake after a long shift. But if you’re paying admission, if there are fewer haunted houses, you missed the Bif Naked concert and the Polar Express ride replaced its airbrush murals with AI viking women, you need some amusement for the park. So let’s roll these dice together. From new innovations in Jamaican beef patties to horrific Oreo mutations, here’s a rundown of the abominations I ate at the CNE this year.
My sister-in-law kicked the day off with a cup of this. You brace yourself for something along the line of a bitter ginger beer, but the different flavors aren’t playing together. All headbutting each other in the middle, leaving you with nothing distinctive.
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