As an environmentally conscious couple combining a vegetarian (me) and an omnivorous “foodie” with allergies (my husband), we already went through a reflexive phase about the importance of food as we started our journey into parenting. But moving to Canada two years ago has given my reflection on food and family a new turn. In French Kids Eat Everything, Karen Le Billon, a Canadian living in Vancouver with her French husband, shares her experience about “How [her] family moved to France, cured picky eating, banned snacking, and discovered 10 simple rules for raising happy, healthy eaters” (the explicit subtitle of her memoir of their year in Brittany, France). Our situation is similar to the one Le Billon recounts, but in reverse: we moved from the francophone part of Switzerland to anglophone Ontario. Through our experience adjusting to a new culture, some of our parenting principles and our foodways are being challenged and sometimes transformed, for better or for worse. Which are some of these blatant or subtle differences that have made us, as newcomers to Canada, so conscious about our previous and current food choices? Almost two years into our settling and adjusting process, how good have we become at navigating our way into the rich Canadian food landscape? After our first visit, we both reached the conclusion that, despite the name, what is served at the Swiss Chalet® does not even come close to resembling any of what we consider typical Swiss food. Dust of parmesan sold in plastic boxes and containing cellulose and other additives joins our “never-buy-this-again-list” that already includes all sorts of processed foods and everything that we suspect of containing high amounts of GMOs. Despairing of the price difference between conventional and organic products, within a month, however, I abandoned the idea of completely avoiding GMOs since they are so pervasive. My husband delights in locally brewed beers and we both enjoy red wine from the Niagara wineries. However, we are continually surprised by the diverse restrictions concerning the sale and consumption of alcohol in public spaces, including for families who picnic in the parks. In our Toronto neighbourhood, "the Junction," the historical ban on the sale of alcoholic beverages has been completely lifted only in 2000. Adaptation to the specific food cultures in Canada includes using a new vocabulary in English and in the many other languages that provide precise names for both familiar and new foods (fiddleheads, bibimbap, roti) that we encourage our daughter to taste. Without noticing it, I even use new words in French. My mother-in-law remarked that I now call blueberries bleuets (as in Québec, whereas they are called myrtilles in Europe). Compulsory bilingual labels in Canada sometimes seem absurdly laughable. Rose water bought from a South Asian supermarket becomes, in French, “eau augmentée” (which could be translated back as “enhanced water,” since “rose” is not only a flower, but also the simple past of the verb “to rise”). Nonsensical labels, are not, however, my primary source of concern. Much more worrisome to me is the cultural translation of my family’s food habits. As a researcher in the study of religions, I never expected to write about my experience with food in Canada, but I have been compelled to reflect more deeply on such questions for myself, as my current study on “natural parenting” includes discussing with my informants about issues such as global food security, growing and buying food, cooking, feeding children, diet and nutrition. However mild my cultural shock may be compared to that of other newcomers, I still have …