Start Your Day The French‑Canadian Way With Spreadable Pork
Start Your Day The French‑Canadian Way With Spreadable Pork
Cretons in Quebec City
Leave it to the province known for pork pie (tourtiére), pig-trotter stew, and pig-centric chefs (see: Martin Picard) to have spreadable pork for breakfast.
I first encountered cretons a mile high in the sky, while flipping through Air Canada’s in-flight magazine, En Route. The food-focused issue had an illustrated guide to Canada’s corner-store classics. The yellow and white container of Cretons Gaspésien resembled a tub of Land O’Lakes; yet, when I read the product description (“spiced, breaded pork spread”) I realized this was definitely not butter.
Cretons have been part of Quebec’s petit-déjeuner since the province’s beginning. As the French set up shop in their new territory, they brought their food traditions across the Atlantic. Hence, cretons resemblance to rillettes, French potted pork. Cretons were also probably influenced by First Nation peoples, Canada’s indigenous population, who had perfected meat preservation methods to survive the harsh winters. Also known as cortons or gortons, cretons popularity extends throughout the area formerly known as New France, including Northern Maine and the Maritime provinces.
Quebec cuisine leans toward comfort fare. In this region shaped by farming and lengthy winters, hearty, homemade food is integral to the daily diet. The abundance of pigs—over 7 million at last count—makes the prospect of eating pork three times a day a reality, not just a dream. Especially popular in rural areas, cretons fortify farmers and factory workers for their physically laborious days. They’re also delicious as a midnight snack.
Cretons recipes are as varied as the snowflakes that cover la belle province. The essentials include pork, onion, breadcrumbs, and spices, a fluctuating mix of nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon. Like ‘nduja sans spice or rillettes creamier cousin, cretons are nonetheless not as gourmet as the two aforementioned porks. Case in point: they are also known as pork scrap. However, my first taste of cretons was decidedly fancy: room service at Quebec City’s famous Fairmont Le Château Frontenac hotel.
After reading about cretons in flight, I vowed to seek some out once landing in Quebec City. I assumed I’d score a tub at a local deli, but when ordering my breakfast room service that night—as I’m tempted to do when bunking in luxe lodgings—I was surprised, and delighted, to find cretons on the menu.
The pork spread came in a rectangular slab; I could see why some say cretons are meatloaf-esque. In spite of its pale color and cat-food-like texture, the cretons tasted sublime. They were porky without being heavy, creamy, buttery, and easy to spread on my whole-grain toast. I even slathered them on a croissant, for breakfast in bed in a sumptuous robe calls for acts of indulgence.
I never got to taste the tubbed version; plans to pack some for the trip home were thwarted when a shopping spree at a local butcher left my suitcase stuffed to capacity. My guess is that homemade is better. Then again, there’s nothing like a jar of Nutella.