13 specific Canadian grocery items I can't find since moving to the USA (and seriously miss)

Kraft Dinner

I know my Americans are here thinking, "we have this" — but guess what? You actually don't. You have Kraft Mac & Cheese. It's not the same.

First of all, the packaging is different. And that matters, because you know what they say? Our eyes eat before our stomach. And even though I'm pretty sure "they" were talking more about fancy plating at Michelin restaurants — I think it still applies here.

Second, my American homies don't even know what Kraft Dinner is. I've brought it up before and was met with blank faces. As a kid, this was the best dinner I could have hoped for.

Dairyland Milk

Dairyland hits in a way no dairy product brand ever will. I'm a 90s kid, and I remember when we drank whole milk by the jug. Like, if we didn't drink 50 gallons of milk a week, we were gonna die. That's what was in the media those days.

I don't even know if milkmen are still a thing, but when I was growing up, ours delivered Dairyland. I still remember opening the fridge and seeing it stocked with those familiar cartons and bottles. It wasn't until I moved to the U.S. that I realized I actually refer to milk as "Dairyland". Which grammatically doesn't even make sense — but then again, I failed English 10, so that's really on brand for me.

Hershey's Chipits (Jumbo Bag)

I grew up in what I can only describe as a bad pantry household. My parents are Italian, and Italians don't really do pre-packaged snacks. If we ever did get a treat in our lunch box, it was a cannoli. That's the kind of childhood we were working with.

Except on Saturdays.

Every Saturday morning, my dad made chocolate chip pancakes, and my siblings and I absolutely lost our minds for them. Naturally, because we were little gremlins with zero self-control, my parents started hiding the giant yellow bag of Hershey's Chipits during the week.

Whenever they left the house, it became a hunt, tearing through every cupboard looking for them.

Pillsbury Pizza Pops

Growing up, Pizza Pops occupied a very specific place in the food pyramid: the "Mom's not home yet" section.

Every Canadian kid learned the hard way that if you microwaved one and bit into it immediately, you were essentially pouring molten lava directly onto the roof of your mouth. The outside would somehow be lukewarm while the inside reached the temperature of the Earth's core.

Hot Pockets just don't scratch the same itch.

Coffee Crisp

As a kid, instead of playing "house" I played "Mr. Chief Financial Officer". I would steal my Dad's briefcase, my mom's Mom's Motorola Brick phone, and eat a Coffee Crisp like it was a protein bar, pretending I was late for an appointment on Bloor Street.

Even writing this now, I'm pissed I can't take a Coffee Crisp bar down.

Kraft Smooth Peanut Butter

Every family was a certain kind of peanut butter household, and I stand by the fact that it said a lot about you.

Yours truly was obviously a Kraft household, and I didn't realize how emotionally attached I was to that iconic green lid until I moved to the U.S. and realized they just don't have it here. And because I'm stubborn, I just don't buy peanut butter now.

McCain Deep n' Delicious Cake

I have never once seen someone serve McCain Deep 'n Delicious on an actual dessert plate. This is a fork-in-the-pan dessert, and I refuse to believe there's any other way to eat it.

The icing is ridiculously thick, the cake somehow stays impossibly moist for what feels like months, and having more than one slice is a must.

Hawkins Cheezies

I know what you're thinking. "They're just Cheetos."

Wrong.

Hawkins Cheezies have more crunch, more cheddar and approximately 400% more grease. By the time you've finished the bag, your fingers look like you've been changing the oil in your car.

For me, Hawkins Cheezies are permanently associated with high school. And by high school, I mean detention. There was always someone who'd show up after hitting the vending machine. And it was me. The someone was obviously me.

Chapman's Premium Ice Cream

I love food that comes in a massive vat and can be eaten with a spoon in one sitting. And in this way, nothing hits me in the childhood feels like a pint of Chapman's. Premium ice cream. You can't forget the premium. As a kid, whenever we could pull off getting a pint for movie night, we knew we were gonna full send.

I'm a simple girl. Everything is so extra now. Sometimes I just want throwback treats. It's my comfort food.

Excel Gum

This one's big for me. I love my Excel, and I'm not taking spreadsheets.

In the U.S., I can't get my Excel gum. Not at the grocery store checkout. Not even gas stations. Instead they have Extra, which ironically I want less of.

Wagon Wheels

I know if I were to eat one today, it would probably taste like a Scotch-Brite sponge dipped in hot plastic, but I actually don't care. Because whenever I hear that Darius Rucker country song, I'm transported to a better time and place.

Glosettes

Glossettes are interesting because I don't actually like them, but also when they're in front of me, I will eat all of them.

Reading that back, I can see that it is actually a metaphor for how I operate in life.

The yellow glosettes are the chocolate-covered peanuts (which are obviously better), but the purple ones are the OG chocolate-covered raisins. They are the fake-healthy movie-theatre snack for your Dad, who's in denial about his declining physique. Pickleball isn't a real sport, brother, and raisins aren't a fruit.

President's Choice Wood Fired Four Cheese Pizza

President's Choice had absolutely no business making a frozen pizza this good. The crust actually got crispy, the cheese browned properly, and for less than ten bucks you feel like you've somehow gamed the system.

Every time it went on sale, we'd stock up. And even though my Nonna would disown me for even EATING frozen pizza, I'd pick one of these over any frozen pizza in the U.S.A.