I know what you're thinking; there are still cod left in the ocean? I felt the same way. Then I thought, well sure, the stock may be more endangered than the feral dodo flock but it had already been already caught, so it would be churlish not to eat it. Big bonus of the day was getting asparagus!
We cooked our own meal the night before, pretty much a kilo of pasta, vegetables and self-doubt. It was the usual race breakfast routine; a huge bowl of granola eaten while the sun was still down. Of course, the 10 a.m. start-time coupled with the walking and the buses and all the rest can put a bit of a dent into your pre-race routine. La belle snapped a shot of me apparently looking longingly at a MacDonalds. It might have been early for a Big Mac (besides, I couldn't see a Burger King) but a sausage and egg McMuffin with three hours to race start? I could probably manage that!
The next day, surprisingly, we were still hungry. Not just a little peckish, I mean hungry enough to eat the arse out of a low-flying duck hungry. Unfortunately, duck wasn't on the menu at Lunas in Bangor, but only because the chef was having the night off. Stull, the triple-B burger; bacon, barbeque and blue cheese with yet more frites did the job nicely. As did the Alagash White; not as fruity as Hoegaarden but it washed the burger down nicely and had the added advantage that it can be ordered without having to expectorate all over the waitress!
At St Hub, after chicken, it has to be a pouding chomeur; a cake-y pudding with maple syrup, extra maple syrup and a maple-syrup sauce. Talk about killing a tree. This thing is Type-II diabetes on a plate. With ice-cream.
Never mind poutine, this combo is Canada's gift to your ass. C'est encourent!