The Great White Northline

Along with the Cambridge and its legendary omelettes , the Northline is one of our go-to breakfast spots for obvious reasons. I have, however, rarely eaten dinner there. Although it is almost right across from where we work, our normal after work routine is to return to our accommodations on the other side of the airfield, meet up with some others who work the night shift and go to dinner on that side of the base. With a maximum speed limit of 40 kmh which decreases to 20 kmh for most of the trip, it takes about 25, agonizingly slow minutes to get to and from work so a return trip to the Northline just never seemed worth it. I may have been wrong.

We played a couple of games of Call of Duty worked late yesterday evening and, as there was no one to meet on the other side for dinner, T, M and I went to the Northline. The menu was solid Americana: Philly cheese steak, hot dogs, hamburgers, bacon, chicken wings, bbq ribs and even Pogos!

BTW, did you know that only Canadians call corn dogs Pogos? I thought everyone called them that. It’s a much more fun name than the purely factual “corn dog”. But let’s settle this once and for all with an unbiased, scientific poll:


Wombat Perhaps?

All three of us went for the ribs but I also tried a chicken wing. I know, I know, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me…fool me three times, I’m an idiot. But not so fast there, cowboy! These wings were breaded, meaty and not at all like those slimy monstrosities I had at the other DFACs. With a dab of hot sauce they were KAF-awesome.

The “ribs” were tender with a very tasty barbecue sauce. I say “ribs” because they were different than any ribs we had ever seen. We’re used to the rather orderly bone-meat-bone pattern of parallel ribs. These had little bones that may have been ribs cut VERY short along with flat, seemingly aerodynamic bones that M likened to a turbine blade. If there are any biologists or zoologists out there that can identified the specimen at right…please do so. As it resembles no bone I’ve ever encountered while eating, I can only assume it comes from a marsupial as I have never eaten a marsupial. A wombat clavicle perhaps?

Um num num

Wherever the meat came from, it was tender and delicious though the random bone arrangement made them impossible to eat with either a knife and fork or dignity as demonstrated by M at left.

There were also two sorts of pies beneath the Assorted Pies sign. I consider this the fewest number appropriate given the signage. I opted for the apple pie. It was still pretty frozen in the middle but very good none-the-less. DFAC baking is always a bit iffy; so if all they did was put it out on the dessert counter directly from the freezer, so much the better.

Heavyweight Championship of the…umm…Painters?

As we enjoyed our exceptionally good Northline dinner, the three of us became enthralled with the “professional” wrestling match that was on the TVs. It had sort of been a dull noise in the background until T glanced up at the screen and remarked “they all have ladders”. I turned around and, indeed, there were several men in what appeared to be spandex speedos hitting each other with aluminum ladders. We then noticed the oohs and ahs emanating from many of the diners around us as they watched the mayhem. Apparently, the object of the “sport” was to set up your ladder in the centre of the ring and climb it in order to grab a suitcase of cash that was hanging above the ring. Seriously. But, it seems you had to make sure you climbed it slowly enough that one of your opponents would have time to climb up another ladder and punch you in the crotch.

T, M and I, being the sophisticates that we are, mocked the proceedings and derided its obvious fakery. We lingered over our empty plates intelligently discussing the ridiculousness of the spectacle until the last crotch was punched and some guy in a gold spandex speedo managed to get the money. We then left en masse with just about everyone else in the place who, like us, were too cultured to enjoy that WWE nonsense.

Bottom Line

The Northline surprised me with the quality of its food. It’s not haute cuisine but what they do make, they make well. I need to eat there more often to see if the food is consistently this good. To do that I’ll either have to work later or eat earlier. Dinner at 5:00 pm wouldn’t be so bad…

10 thoughts on “The Great White Northline

  1. Sounds like you had “riblets”…. Here’s more than you’d ever want to know about pork anatomy from the culinary point of view:

    In the quest for blog stardom, have you added Google Analytics to your site? You could spend all day dissecting the reporting that spews out. Also – hook your blog into FeedBurner (another free Google app) so all of your adoring fans can subscribe to the site and get update notifications in their inboxes!

    FYI – you’re growing a fanbase at Dyess AFB in Texas….

    • Thanks for the link. I learned a lot about pork but, although riblets are mentioned, they aren’t described. Further googling showed pictures of riblets that look very similar to what we had…but I still prefer to think I ate wombat.
      I’m afraid Google Analytics can’t be directly used on sites (you have to have a third party host). I’m exploring possibilities for more traffic info though. I’m really curious to know who is reading this stuff.
      As an old, retired Canadian Air Force guy, I’m glad to hear it’s catching on with some USAF folks.

  2. I’m only now just reading all your posts (and enjoying them immensely) so you may have already have this installed but I use WordPress to make websites and use the Stats plugin to keep track of hits. ( It’s very satisfy, if you’re a stats whore. They even show the Google searches that got people to you.

  3. Northline was always our choice when going to or from the flightline. It felt cleaner than the rest of the DFACS, and was good breakfast options. Well, apart from the boiled eggs — those were frightening… Why won’t the shell separate from the egg? Why?!

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