There are times when I want to cast it all aside; wipe that dusty, cluttered chalkboard clean and start fresh. In moments of deep introspection, I want to hang up the sideshow freak costume I’ve donned for the past decade and start tackling the big issues, the important issues.

I’ll start with this: meat pie, or tourtiere pie?

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking A) It’s meat pie, you moron. It consists chiefly of meat and potatoes and doesn’t warrant a fancy, uptight name just so snobs will eat it, too. Or you’re thinking B) It’s tourtiere pie, you moron. To call it anything so trite as meat pie is to splash scalding oil in the face of every French man or woman who has slaved to prepare the dish.

Where I come from (hint: not the Isle of Tourtiere) we used the French name. As children, we enjoyed trying to pronounce that tongue-thickening word with mouths full of the stuff. The ensuing spray of meat and crust was hysterical and frequently led to fistfights.

Today, I still can’t pronounce it correctly. I call it: TOO-chay, when in fact, according to the online dictionary I just now opened, it should be pronounced: TOOT-e-air.

I’ll have forgotten that by the time I’m done writing this piece.

In Lewiston, with its high French population, I expected there to be an outright law demanding that this particular dish be referred to as tourtiere. But when I got here, people looked at me funny when I uttered the word. A few thought I was making rude comments about their mothers. By and large, the folks here call it meat pie. I suspect it’s because they know the true history of the stuff.

In essence, it is this: “Historically, the tourtiere was the pie-pan named for the key ingredient: the cooked meat of the once abundant and now extinct passenger pigeon, the tourte.”

That’s right, suckers! Although your favorite holiday meal is now made with pork and ground beef (As far as you know. Do you really trust your mother?) it was traditionally made of the tender, juicy meat of those fat birds you see every day eating dead things out of trash cans.

At any rate, the meat pie vs. tourtiere debate rages on. It’s a controversy that has ripped apart families and resulted in the dissolution of lifelong friendships. I hope, in some small way, I’ve helped. Or at least ruined your appetite.

No Pulitzer-quality column on pie controversies would be complete without raising the life-or-death matter of shepherd’s pie vs. Chinese pie.

You know the stuff. It’s made of ground beef (probably) and various vegetables such as corn, carrots and peas and topped with mashed potatoes. Only, I don’t like carrots and peas so please don’t put any in there.

This particular culinary disagreement baffles me. There is nothing about this circular meal that conjures thoughts of the Chinese. There is even less reason to associate it with the fine art of sheep protection. So where do either of these terms come from? Furthermore, why do some people insist on muddying the matter by calling it “Chinese pie” — but in French form?

I’m not making this up. I have no fewer than three friends who refer to this humble offering of meat, corn and potatoes as “pâté chinois,” as though it were something a team of French chefs spent six weeks preparing. See all those freaky symbols above the word? Does it really deserve all that?

But no matter. If I have one message to impart, it’s that we should put aside our differences over what we call our food. It’s the holidays, a time for sharing and embracing the bonds we have forged. Enjoy your eats no matter how they are titled. Celebrate this precious time with your loved ones.

Even if they are poisoning you with pigeon.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff writer. You can join the debate on meat pie vs. tourtiere at [email protected].