Western Living Magazine
Pamela Anderson’s Ladysmith Home Is a Whimsical, ‘Funky Grandma’ Dream Come True
Dream Condo Alert: A Warm, Timber-Lined Loft We ‘Woodn’t’ Mind Living In
Trade Secrets: A Beautiful Bedroom with a Neutral Colour Palette
The Essential Guide to the 2023 BCL Summer Spirit Release
Recipe: Spot Prawn and Cherry Gazpacho
The Low-Alcohol Revolution Comes to the Okanagan
Wellness in Whistler—Your Ultimate Early Summer Retreat
It all starts here in Nanaimo
Local Summer Getaway Guide 2023: 6 Great Ways to Explore B.C., Alberta and Washington
Protected: Visit the Joint Replacement Center of Scottsdale
What to Get for Mother’s Day: Editors’ Picks
This Is Not a Drill: West Elm Just Launched an Outdoor Furniture Collab with Marimekko
Designers of the Year 2023: Meet the All-Star Industrial Design Judges
Deadline Extended! Enter Western Living’s 2023 Designers of the Year Awards
Designers of the Year 2023: These Are Your All-Star Interior Design Judges
You always remember your first Iced Eddie.
On our annual pilgrimage to Lake Huron—to the family cabin on my wife’s side—the last hour is usually pedal-to-the-metal as we pick up the scent of suntan oil on the breeze. But one year we decided to stop a half-hour out, in a flyspeck town called Paisley.
A sign for “Back Eddie’s” sucked us in. Cool name—suggesting a countercurrent to the mainstream. Cool building: a century-old mill at a fork in the Saugeen River, now a coffee and sandwich shop.
I was more thirsty than hungry, and more hot than cold.
“Do you do an iced coffee?” I asked.
The hippie-ish looking young woman behind the counter just smiled.
If the last iced coffee you had was one of those treacly Starbucks Frappuccino syrup slammers, nothing will prepare your taste buds for an Iced Eddie.
The difference is…everything—starting with an espresso-strength shot of the café’s own organic “four-nation” blend, made from ethically sourced beans freshly roasted on site in a small-batch Turkish roaster.
But the secret ingredient is Mapleton organic espresso ice cream. It comes from a dairy an hour down the road where—I am not making this up—the cows voluntarily walk over to the milking area whenever they’re good and ready.
The server emerged from the back and offered the Iced Eddie, sacramentally, across the counter. I guzzled it standing up. There was a small commission outside. I was blocking the door. I didn’t even notice. My eyes were closed.
“How was it?” she said.
All I could manage to say in reply was: “Another, please.”
People nurse their Iced Eddies on the back deck, watching canoeists en route from Walkerton to Southampton pull in to re-provision. (The owners kicked around the idea of installing a “canoe-thru” window, but decided it wasn’t workable.) But we don’t do that any more. The service at Back Eddie’s can be slow—I imagine the cook’s mind is half on the sandwich he’s making and half on the bands that are coming for Friday night’s blues jam. So we always take our Iced Eddies to go.
Now if only we can figure out a way to get them back to Vancouver without them melting.
Distance: 3,193 kmTravel Time: 6 hrs, 49 mins (4:22 flight, 2:27 drive)
Check back for more from our Will Travel for Food feature to discover the lengths our food-obsessed writers will go for one perfect bite.
Are you over 18 years of age?