Meet Canada’s Coziest Comfort Food—and It's Not Poutine

One of Lisa Gifford’s first jobs was making breadcrumbs.

As a young girl working at Port de Grave's now-shuttered L&M Takeout—named after her parents, Lorne and Marie—she would take two slices of bread, ball them tightly together, and put them in the blender on a light grind. Heaps of breadcrumbs would be added to roasting pans, along with a generous handful of the dried herb savory. The entire mixture would be patted down, placed in the oven to brown, and finally re-fluffed after cooking. Newfoundlanders and Labradorians like Gifford call the dish “dressing,” and it’s a key component in what is arguably Canada’s most delicious meal.

There are three essential ingredients for this glorious, messy, and deeply satisfying dish. First, you need chips. It's OK if you say “french fries,” but "chips" is the prevailing term. Second, you need dressing, similar in flavor to the stuffing you might make to accompany a holiday turkey. Finally, you need thick, hot gravy.

Occasionally, you'll find variations that include peas and fried onions, or a topping of ground beef, chopped hot dogs, or perhaps bologna; however, most places stick to the classic trinity of ingredients. You'll find it everywhere, in every season, across Newfoundland and Labrador, in both upscale restaurants and family kitchens. And, of course, you'll find it at takeout counters like the one Gifford's parents once ran, where the chips, dressing, and gravy was served alongside deep-fried turkey.

Chips, dressing, and gravy—what the dish is called on most menus—is also a province-wide passion. Packages of Mt. Scio Farm Savoury (the British and Canadian spelling of savory), which give the dressing its signature earthiness, are sold everywhere and can be found at both fancy boutiques and gas stations. How did such a seemingly simple recipe become so ubiquitous that its primary seasoning blend is now sold next to tires and motor oil?

Eager to learn more about the history behind my favorite comfort food, I turned to academics at Memorial University in St. John's, Newfoundland, whose cafeteria offered my first sample of chips, dressing, and gravy more than 20 years ago. While the professors I spoke with all declared a fondness for the dish, none had ever approached it from an academic perspective. Next, I turned to the provincial archives. Could there be any ephemera, such as old menus, that could help me out? I came up empty-handed. Then I thought of the most obvious source itself: food-loving Newfoundlanders and Labradorians! They would surely have theories about when and how chips, dressing, and gravy came to be.

I told all 38,000 of my fellow members of the Newfoundland & Recipes Facebook group about my mission to learn more about chips, dressing, and gravy. I was especially interested in just how early their memories would be. Was it possible to find evidence of this combination prior to 1957, when Quebecoise poutine was first served? Poutine, a mix of fries, fresh cheese curds, and gravy, is beloved by Canadians, including those in Newfoundland and Labrador. Sometimes chips, dressing, and gravy is even referred to as Newfoundland's version of poutine. Could we possibly find out which came first?

The members—enthusiastic Newfoundlanders and Labradorians who love their food and culinary traditions—didn't let me down, and memories poured out. Steve C. shared, “I remember having a good feed of fries, dressing, and gravy in 1976 in Bay Roberts." Sharon E. reminisced, "I remember having it at Hiscocks in GFW (Grand Falls-Windsor) in the early '70s." Yvonne A. said, "I was born in '47. I remember it in my early teenage years.” My heart stopped when Joanne M. shared, "In the late '50s, I went to the Candlelight restaurant on Harvey Rd. [sic]— great fries, dressing, and gravy." There it is! Evidence that this combination of chips, dressing, and gravy has been around for about as long as poutine. But would anyone have a memory of it from even earlier?

Then Robin Sanger told me about her aunt.

Aunt Tess came to Newfoundland and Labrador as a homesick war bride from Scotland. Sanger recalls her aunt telling her that chips, dressing, and gravy was one of the few meals she knew how to make for her husband when they first got married. "She called it stuffing and chips, and they had it after a leftover roasted chicken dinner," Sanger says. "It was served with gravy, but she said their gravy was runny, not like Newfoundland gravy," which is typically rich and thick. Most interesting of all is when Aunt Tess was combining chips, stuffing/dressing, and gravy. As a new bride post World War II, Aunt Tess was making her dish in the mid-to-late 1940s. Sorry, poutine. It seems you're late to the gussied-up french fry game!

Aunt Tess didn't stay in Newfoundland long. “She came to Newfoundland briefly after the Second World War with her new husband and promptly moved back to the UK, only coming to visit family every several years,” Sanger shares. Was Aunt Tess the very first home chef to combine chips, dressing, and gravy in Newfoundland and Labrador? Who can say? Cookbooks from before and after Aunt Tess's time in Newfoundland, including the St. John's Presbyterian Ladies Association's 1925 cookbook and Sally West's 1958 The Treasury of Newfoundland Dishes, reference the savory-forward dressing and how it can be combined with potatoes and many different meats. However, chips, dressing, and gravy as a dish itself isn't referenced in popular cookbooks of the era. I like to imagine that this feisty woman changed the province's culinary landscape for the better.

My conversations with the group were more than just a fun way to map the recipe's chronological progress. It also provided me with a new theory about how chips, dressing, and gravy was popularized. I had long assumed it was an innovative way to make the most of leftovers. Newfoundland and Labrador is an isolated province with harsh weather and a long history of economic struggle. It's not a place where people waste food, and it's no surprise that they could transform potatoes, stale bread, and leftover roast drippings into a hearty hug of a meal. Now, however, I think there's something more to the combination.

Pamela R., who grew up in Stephenville, on Newfoundland's west coast, tells me, "When I was a kid in the '70s, the dressing was under the fries, not on top like I see it now. That was so the dressing would soak up the grease from the fries." When I read her words, a lightbulb went off. Of course, the ever resourceful, always practical yet creative Newfoundlanders and Labradorians weren't just making sure that no food went to waste. Pamela reckons—and I agree—that they were thinking one step ahead, using the fluffy, absorbent breadcrumbs to keep their plates grease-free, making clean up afterwards much easier. It seems there are many layers to this layered dish.

Regardless of when the combination officially debuted, who can be credited for its creation, or how it should be assembled, one thing is true: Every meal of chips, dressing, and gravy delivers the same sense of comfort and community. Yvonne Sullivan, who worked in the Newfoundland Collection of the public libraries for 37 years, showed me a clip from the Evening Telegraph from June 20, 1963. In it, Chalkers restaurant on Merrymeeting Road in St. John's proudly proclaimed that 50 cents got you a big hot turkey sandwich "with chips, gravy, dressing." How many generations have seen similar words at a takeout counter, at a community dinner, at a university cafeteria, and sighed in contentment? It seems like no matter where it's served or how, chips, dressing, and gravy has a cozy way of drawing you in and making Newfoundland and Labrador feel like home. A family business indeed.

How to Make Your Own Chips, Dressing, and Gravy

Eager to enjoy a “feed” of chips, dressing, and gravy at home? The easiest way is to make friends with someone from Newfoundland and Labrador—they won’t hesitate to share their favorite variation. But until then, you'll need:

Homemade Dressing

• Adjust oven rack to middle position and preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). 
• In a large bowl, combine 3 cups fresh breadcrumbs made from white bread, two tablespoons dried savory, and 1/3 cup (about 2 3/4 ounces; 75 grams) of melted butter, plus salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. 
• Using a flexible spatula, toss to evenly coat breadcrumbs and herbs with melted butter.
• Bake in a greased 9-by-13-inch casserole dish until lightly toasted, about 15 minutes.
• To use leftover stuffing from Thanksgiving, crumble the stuffing with your hands. Add one teaspoon of dried savory per one cup of stuffing, tossing to evenly coat. There's no need to bake—just serve with chips and gravy. It's not quite a traditional Newfoundland dressing, but will still be mighty tasty.
• In a large bowl, combine 3 cups fresh breadcrumbs made from white bread, two tablespoons dried savory, and 1/3 cup (about 2 3/4 ounces; 75 grams) of melted butter, plus salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. 
• Using a flexible spatula, toss to evenly coat breadcrumbs and herbs with melted butter.
• Bake in a greased 9-by-13-inch casserole dish until lightly toasted, about 15 minutes.
• To use leftover stuffing from Thanksgiving, crumble the stuffing with your hands. Add one teaspoon of dried savory per one cup of stuffing, tossing to evenly coat. There's no need to bake—just serve with chips and gravy. It's not quite a traditional Newfoundland dressing, but will still be mighty tasty.

Gravy

• Enough chicken, turkey, or beef gravy—preferably homemade—to drizzle over the top.

Chips

• Thick, fresh, hand-cut chips are the gold standard, but everyone in Newfoundland and Labrador has used oven-baked frozen french fries at one time or another, and you can, too.