Canadians seem to love their chips. On our drive across the eastern half of the country the past few days, we’ve spotted numerous roadside eateries bearing the name “Chip Shack,” or “Chip Shop,” or some variation thereof.
Since Canada still has Queen Elizabeth as their Head of State, they are employing the British meaning of the word “chips” — what we Yanks would call French Fries. Mind you, as a french-fry lover myself, I really don’t care what they are called.
In American English, however, “chip” is something different — it’s flat and crunchy.
In preparation for our road trip, we stocked upon things to eat. My sister offered to purchase a multi-pack box of chips from Costco. Not being a member of Costco, I assumed a multi-pack box would have a dozen or so bags of chips. Not so. When my sister and her husband showed up to load the car on Friday morning, she had a giant box of 100 chips in tow!
No, we did not bring all 100 bags of chips; we put a bunch of them into our snack bag. On Day 5, however, I can say that we have officially reached the “sick of chips” point.
If you are in Nova Scotia, and see a Red SUV with Minnesota plates on the side of the road with a “chips for sale” sign posted nearby, that will be us.