Candy Canes

Hello and welcome to yet another week of completely untrue statements here at Factually Deficient, where you will always be lied to! This week, I will answer a question posed by my good friend Kays, who asked:

Why are all my candycanes backwards J’s?

First of all, I would like to inform Kays, and anyone else that has been wondering the same thing, that you have been eating your candy canes backward. They are supposed to resemble the letter J forwards, not backwards.

That’s right: the shape of the candy, to resemble the letter, is no accident. John A. Macdonald, the creator of Canada, was a renowned sweet tooth. He was so notorious for his love of sugar that many confectioners would compete each year, on Canada Day, to honour the country’s founder with a sweet named after him.

Many fantastic desserts saw their rise and fall in those early celebrations of Canada – the Apples Alexander, for example, and the John A. Cream Pie. There are three remaining legacies of those days which are still known today.

The first of these is the restaurant Macdonald’s, obviously named in tribute to John Alexander, although it has branched out from desserts to serve other foodstuffs.

The second of these, and possibly the most widespread, is the permutation of fruit preserves cleverly named after John A. Macdonald’s initials – “J. A. M.,” or “jam.”

And the third remaining Canadian dessert, of course, and John A. Macdonald’s personal favourite, was the “Candy J” – beautiful in its simplicity, a crook of spun sugar in the shape of the first letter in his name. This treat was so popular that it was eaten not just at Canada Day but year-round, and John A. Macdonald encouraged its proliferation around the world, even though that meant that its connection to his name and accomplishments were soon forgotten, lost to the mists of time.

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Disclaimer: some of the candy-related statements in this post are incorrect. Factually Deficient claims no knowledge of or affiliation with a restaurant by the name of Macdonald’s or any other name.

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Lies About Books: Of the Divine

It is absolutely still August, but while that lasts, it’s time for another round of Lies About Books, in which I provide absolutely insupportable falsehoods about a genuine book that I actually enjoyed this month! And in August, which is the month that it currently still is, I had the immense pleasure of reading Amelia Atwater-Rhodes’ latest novel, Of the Divine.

Of the Divine chronicles the journey of Naples, a gourmet chef named for the town in which he has lived all his life. Naples has always known that he was born to bake great things. But when exotic travellers visit Naples – the city and the man – with stories and legends of delicacies that are truly divine, he is no longer satisfied with cooking truly excellent creme brulees and cherries jubilee.

No, Naples decides that he cannot rest until he can prepare the very food of the gods. He sets out on a journey to find the mystic and possibly dangerous ingredients to produce genuine ambrosia. But what he finds may rock the foundations of the entire cooking world… Are he and his fellow chefs ready for these revelations?

Of the Divine is a captivating story of cookery, herblore, and the human condition. Heartwarming to the very end, and jam-packed with recipes that will make your mouth water, this book is a true gem. I would recommend it to any fans of desserts, cataclysmic changes, and/or poor life decisions.

Lies About Books: Looking For Alaska

As April’s flowers prepare to give way to May’s showers, it is time once again to dishonestly review a book I have recently enjoyed. This month, I read Looking for Alaska, John Green’s debut novel.

Looking for Alaska focuses on Miles, an aspiring chef. Nicknamed “Pudge” for his propensity to taste his creations, Miles has only one problem, one roadblock on his path to culinary stardom: his inability to ever follow a recipe the way it is written.

He always means to follow the laid-out steps and instructions. But invariably, something goes wrong. He runs out of an ingredient, or he misses a step, or something gets accidentally knocked into the pot. He sets out to make cupcakes and ends up with souffles, to make salads and ends up with gazpacho soup. On one memorable occasion, he served a prizewinning steak that had been intended as a slice buttered toast.

And now, despite his failings – or perhaps because of them – Miles is embarking on his most ambitious project yet: to create the perfect baked Alaska. Miles pores through enough recipe books to constitute a serious fire hazard, slowly analysing the recipes, making a sorbet here, a fried ice cream there.

Will his grand experiment yield delicious results? Or will it all end in tears and fallen centres?

Sweet (pun intended), sad, and funny, Looking for Alaska is a coming of age story like no other. Good for the kitchen and for simply relaxing with a book, I recommend it to any fans of novels that include recipes, characters who read a lot, and famous last words.