Commentary

The ketchup connoisseur

August 6, 2026   ·   0 Comments

By Keith Schell

One summer, after my youngest brother got married, he and his new bride invited our side of the family over to their place for the weekend. Wanting to get to know his new bride in a more personal setting, we happily accepted their generous invitation and arrived Friday evening.

The next morning, his bride prepared breakfast for the entire household. Her family had owned a restaurant in Ontario’s cottage country for many years before she was married, so she was a great hostess and a wonderful cook.

And the breakfast she served! Eggs sunny-side up, bacon, hash browns, beans, and toast — all cooked to perfection — a delight to the eye and to the palate.

Once I received my breakfast, I did what I always do: I reached for the ketchup and started putting it on my eggs.

But when she saw what I was doing, my brother’s new wife was horrified!

“What’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with it?” she exclaimed, as if I had just committed some sort of mortal sin.

Startled by her reaction, I told her there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. I simply liked putting ketchup on my eggs and dipping my bacon in it while I ate breakfast. I had done that all my life — and always will.

It was only in that moment that I learned serious cooks, both professional and otherwise, see the addition of ketchup to their culinary creations as a serious insult to their handiwork.

Wanting to keep peace in the family and seeing how personally offended my new sister-in-law was by my actions, I refrained from adding ketchup to anything else she cooked whenever we visited.

And my sister-in-law wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

The plant I used to work at in the city had a full-service cafeteria that served breakfast and lunch throughout the week. I noticed that our cook seemed quite agitated one day, and I later found out that some of the other shifts had recently been using more ketchup than usual. Her professional pride wounded, she was concerned that there might be something wrong with her cooking. After finishing my breakfast, I assured her that her cooking was still up to its usual deliciously high standards — and that ketchup was not required.

But that being said, all my life I’ve been a ketchup connoisseur. To me, ketchup is the staff of life. It’s the icing on the cake, so to speak, of an everyday meal. It’s one of the four major food groups, as far as I’m concerned.

My love for ketchup started when I was a kid. I was one of those unicorn weirdos who used to eat peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches for lunch (this is the first time I’ve ever had the courage to publicly admit this). Delicious—or so I thought as a kid. But most everyone else around me did not feel that way. I went to a friend’s place for lunch once, and his mother asked me what I wanted on my sandwich. When I told her, “Peanut butter and ketchup,” I remember the look on her face — like she was suppressing a gag reflex!

Back then, I put ketchup on almost everything I ate at dinner. I even tried to put ketchup on my corn one night until my mother noticed and put a stop to it.

As I grew older, my love for ketchup continued. These days, I rarely have a meal without some sort of appropriate contribution from my favourite tomato-based condiment.

As any mature ketchup enthusiast today knows, you haven’t truly lived the classic ketchup experience until you’ve tried to get it flowing out of a newly opened glass bottle. The impatient shaking, the frustrating smacking of the bottom of the bottle to get the viscous, semi-solid liquid flowing before your food got cold — exasperating as it was — was all part of the true ketchup experience we lived growing up. (Plus, you had to be careful where you aimed the bottle, just in case the ketchup unexpectedly let go while you were smacking the bottom!) And how many of us have stuck a butter knife in the bottle to try to get the ketchup flowing? We really had to work for our ketchup back then.

And how things have changed. Today, the plastic squeeze bottle has replaced the glass bottle and changed the entire dynamic of the ketchup experience for a whole generation of kids. Yes, the ketchup comes out faster and easier today, but I’d still like to see today’s kids live the aggravation of the classic glass bottle experience just to understand what we had to go through in our day to get our ketchup. (Hey, why should it be so easy today for them?)

Wine aficionados have fine wine cellars and hold wine-tasting parties. If I had my way, I’d have a fine ketchup cellar and hold ketchup-tasting parties. (“I discovered this vintage no-brand in a corner of the Costco! An amusing little blend with a delightful spicy tomato aroma and a pleasant aftertaste!”)

And of course, we all know who the ‘King of the Ketchups’ is. While I won’t mention them by name, we all know: “There are no other kinds once you’ve tasted (this particular brand)!”

Stompin’ Tom Connors really nailed it when he wrote “The Ketchup Song”. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Ketchup really does love potatoes.

Want to enhance your food experience?

Put ketchup on it!  

Readers Comments (0)