Now, Beausejour is probably not the place you’d expect to find some of the best Southern BBQ you’ll ever eat, but tucked away off the town’s main drag is a hidden gem.īlue Haze BBQ’s unassuming exterior did not prepare us for the charming space that awaited inside: dark-wood shelves lined with as many awards as BBQ sauces (which is a lot), trendy chalkboards explaining all the necessary information and numerous coolers filled with product to take home.
#SWAN PIZZA WINKLER ZIP#
Soundtracked almost entirely by rapper Post Malone (not by choice), we zip up the highway to Beausejour in search of Blue Haze BBQ. Cotton-ball clouds dot a midsummer blue sky, and verdant fields are only interrupted by the line of the road. But we do, loading up Sheila with leftovers to make the 40-minute straight-shot drive north to Beausejour - a route that included more gravel than anticipated.
(We also order a side of today’s special, perogy poutine, because how could we not?) The pizza really is a thing to be craved, subtly sweet house-made sauce slathered over a perfect, thin crust. Obviously, we order the Timberline’s eponymous pizza, which comes piled with pepperoni, mushrooms, and crispy bacon, and served up on blue checked paper. People from as far afield as Sioux Lookout, Ont., order them uncooked so they can have a taste of Timberline at home. “We sell about 500 to 600 pizzas a month,” Gauthier says. In the years she’s owned it, the restaurant has become renowned for its pizza. “I actually grew up right next door,” she says. Her father and stepmother owned it 40 years ago. Gauthier has owned the Timberline for seven years, but her connection to it goes back further. “We joke around with our customers, but we still get our work done.” That’s another thing about the Timberline: the people who work and eat here have a sense of humour. “They start laughing and we can hear them from the kitchen.” She can always tell a first-time visitor by how much of a kick they get out of her signs. “Some of the guys aren’t impressed with it because they think I’m against all the males, but I can’t find any that say anything good about them, so,” jokes owner Linda Gauthier. “A woman who is looking for a husband never had one,” reads another. “Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll sit in a boat and drink beer all day,” reads one.
They are covered in a hundred or so plaques, the kind you find at resort gift shops or craft sales. From the PB&J carousels on every table to the red plastic water cups that will never be left to go dry, it looks like your average roadside diner - until you take a closer look at the cream-coloured walls. Inside, server Debbie Griffiths is warming up the coffees of three men clustered around a black Formica table, tattooed biceps peeking out of T-shirt sleeves. When we pull up at 10:30 on a sunny Monday morning, there’s already a couple of white pickup trucks parked outside. Timberline Restaurant owner Linda Gauthier (left) poses with Jen Zoratti. There are two things the Timberline Restaurant in Richer is probably best known for: its pizza and décor.
#SWAN PIZZA WINKLER FREE#
So, armed with a list of worth-the-drive eateries that lie beyond the Perimeter, stretchy pants, and a loose grasp of provincial geography, we gassed up our Free Press-branded PT Cruiser - a very conspicuous vehicle we nicknamed Sheila - and set off on our gastronomical tour of rural Manitoba. We wanted to get out of the city and explore our province - and what better way than through food? We wanted to meet the people who create the flavours of Manitoba, from the perogy-and-pickerel purists to the pioneers pushing the Prairie palate. This is a lesson we re-learned many times on our rural-eats road trip - from our inability to navigate without the internet, to Erin’s poor highway etiquette (and road rage) when trying to pass trucks and tractors, and our unbridled joy seeing cows or horses in various fields along the way.īut being out of our element was kind of the point. The answers to these questions are “yes,” “no,” and “we don’t know,” but what we really learn from this interaction is that we are city girls, through and through. Number of times we exclaimed “Look, cows!”: Not zero!
How many Google searches for the correct spelling of schmaundt fat: More than one How many litres of schmaundt fat consumed: Incalculable Number of leftover containers amassed: 17 Four if you count whatever was in the fox’s mouth. Number of wild animals we saw: Three (turtle, pelican, fox). Number of times we heard Post Malone on the radio: 13 Free Press 101: How we practise journalism.
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