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CB Burger Bash 2026🍔
April 1st-31st🗓️
$2 from every burger sold will be donated🦸🏻‍♂️

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The Admiral Benbow. The Prancing Pony. The Mos Eisley Cantina. The one from “From Dusk Till Dawn” that has the word ‘titty’ in its name so I won’t be using it. On the list of “questionable places to bring your child with sensory issues and a low tolerance for debauchery and depravity,” may I add @steelcitysportsbarofficial

But what do those other places not have? “The Grand Slam,” their contribution to @cbburgerbash. And somebody’s got to cure children’s cancer or whatevs, so we must go. Cautiously, during daylight hours before the draculas and call center employees descend, we enter, each with 14 inch snees tucked neath our waistcoats. Backs to the walls, safeties off. “Our Greek menu is on special today,” a sweet — suspiciously sweet: too efficient and kind, it turns out — server tells us. But we mention the burger fest, never breaking eye contact, lest she seize the opportunity and garrotte us then and there. Just water for me: I need my senses keen. I need to be able to hear a pulse quicken before someone else descends upon us. I need to see into the shadows and look Satan in the eye.

Sweet potato cheddar jalapeño bun. Pickled jalapeños. Tildes. Their sensitive use of proper diacritics belies their Rosicrucian management’s impulses for imposing a new world order by any means necessary. The chipotle mayo: doubly so.

I play my cards, testing their mettle. “Ooh: I can already tell we’re going to need a few more napkins.” Mere moments pass. “There you are sweetie.” Checkmate, sister. You can tell you shouldn’t eff with me. I. Am. For. Real.

This Lovecraftian house of madness doesn’t have checks: you run the gauntlet, fully exposed and with your back turned to the motley assortment of The Warriors, CHUDs, and Rotarians that populate the hellscape, and pay at the counter. Fling down your 20%, make the small talk that soothes the savage breast (something about thanking them and wishing them well, in hope you cross their rope bridge over the gorge), and then feel the light on your face like you’ve cracked the bottom hatch on the Poseidon.

Recommend.

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Looking for the best things to do in Cape Breton this spring? 😍 Spring is one of the most underrated times to visit. Waterfalls are at their peak, hiking trails are quiet, and local events are just starting to kick off across the island.

Whether you’re planning a weekend trip or just want new ideas, here are 11 of the best things to do in Cape Breton this spring 🥰

🔗 link in bio for full article w/ more info
📍 Cape Breton, Nova Scotia 🇨🇦

#capebreton #novascotia #gooddayatlantic #gooddaynovascotia #spring

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Final days of Cape Breton Burger Bash 🍔🔥

If you haven’t made your way to Kiju’s yet, now’s the time to try our Burger Bash feature before it’s gone!

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Second stop for @cbburgerbash was @firedcreationspotterypainting for their cluckin’ crantastic burger - a fun spin on a traditional holiday dinner with chicken, cranberry chutney, and cheese. Served with cranberry chutney salsa and tortilla chips. A must try! Don’t miss out burger bash ends this Thursday April 30🍔

📍 Fired Creations, Sydney- take home a cute one of a kind piece while you enjoy the food!

#cbburgerbash #visitcapebretonisland #capebreton #sydney #firedcreations

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T minus 3 for @cbburgerbash and a rare afternoon outing to @heavenly_sweet_creations_cafe

Hot take: heteronormativity is suddenly recognizable as a mere construct once a person is introduced to “dinner breakfast.” In the beginning, the world is categorized into simple patterns for ease of navigation and the most basic of explanations. There are these things, and there are those things. Ne’er the twain. The opening chapters of Genesis—the six days of creation—are just describing a series of separations in a push towards an ironclad taxonomy. And that’s fine, for a while. Complexity often demands simplicity aforehand. It’s the reason one teaches Newtonian physics in high school, despite the Einstein posters on the wall, or why it takes people a while to crush hard on folklore profs.

Then you’re tired and it’s almost seven and the kid won’t do the noodles but they always like pancakes so, what the hell, pancakes it is. Congratulations: you have queered things. They can now read possibility where before there was a predetermined, ordained path. Maybe the child is yet encouraged to consider it an exception, a circumscribed temporary carnivaleque, ever emphasizing how things are done ‘normally,’ to rein in impulses. Too late though; there is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.

Then, there is drag, where breakfast foods aren’t simply served at dinner: they dress as dinner foods and are served at breakfast. The famous ‘breakfast burrito.’ The less famous ‘breakfast salade niçoise.’ And today’s example, a breakfast burger. (Which I had at about 4 pm, because downlow.)

In its construction, it is fairly classic. Both sausage patty and bacon; cheese; egg. On recommendation, I went for scrambled. I did not decline mayo. Hashbrowns extra but well worth it. Just coffee, although mimosa (not an actual option) woulda worked. The world is not being reinvented: flamboyance is not the goal. Yet it is elegantly put together, and a good omen for this place which has recently moved from sweets only to all day breakfast offerings.

At least once more, with skittish companion. Might not try for two.

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There are only a couple days left to enjoy the @cbburgerbash for 2026, and I HIGHLY recommend running to @colettesrestaurant for their chicken parm burger!! 😍

During burger bash, every burger purchased from the Burger Bash lineup has proceeds donated to @calebscouragemovement .

You have until April 30 to go try some epic burgers!!

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Only 3 days left of Burger Bash! 🍔

Our Birria Burger has been getting an unreal amount of love, and we can’t thank you enough for all the support from everyone who’s come out to try it.

If you haven’t had it yet, now’s the time—grab yours before it’s gone!

We’re open for lunch today starting at 11AM, and we’ll be back to full-time hours on May 1st.

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Our first stop for @cbburgerbash was @colettesrestaurant and it did not disappoint 🤤🍔 featuring their limited time chicken parm burger. This burger is packed with crispy chicken, house-made marinara, and every bite is mouthwatering. Cherry on top? Served with a salad AND parm fries 🇮🇹

Be sure to check out CB burger bash, on until April 30, proceeds from every burger are donated!

📍 Colette’s Restaurant, Glace Bay

#cbburgerbash #visitcapebretonisland #capebreton #glacebay #musttry

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#PostHaircutGoals means entering the last week of @cbburgerbash at @kijusrestaurant

Due to a dance tournament—the kind of event that should be flagged like an imminent hurricane so everyone is duly prepared—the complex was besieged by, conservatively, umpteen thousand underagers each with the ambition to be the next Anna Pavlova / Rosie Perez / Left Shark. The staircase alone would have made Eisenstein jittery. The experience was thus heightened with the frisson of chaos.

There is a fine line between semantics and pedantry, yet to pursue the point further would open a rift so deeply ironic that Evonne Goolagong would lose her endorsement deal. You and I, in good faith, could argue about whether a chicken burger is a burger, but if you find yourself invested in a definitive answer I will be increasingly disinclined to say yes to your inevitable physical advances. So this is a burger because it is on the list for this event, and we move on. (Do I extend this same courtesy to burger pizza? Hellllllllzzzzzzz naaaahhhh.)

‘The Sweet and Smokey Jammer’: chicken, pink peppercorn, garlic, Gouda, bacon balsamic jam, a ring of deep fried pineapple. This is one of those ideas that shouldn’t work yet somehow does, like universal basic income or autoerotic asphyxiation. As one progresses (prepare yourselves, textual misophones), the juices ooze and slurp and seep, and the moist, oh so moist, bun gets fleshy and soggy and squelchy. This is not a game changer, but given the phalanx of preteen La La La Human Steps between me and the nearest sink: fingies be sticky.

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Cape Breton really shows up for @cbburgerbash 🍔✨
Every bite actually gives back, with $2 from each burger going straight to Caleb’s Courage 🤗 supporting little superheroes right here on the island.

Had to get out with the girls and try one at one of my favourite local gems, @colettesrestaurant 💕
We went with the Chicken Parm Burger with a Caesar salad and parm fries… and safe to say we made the right choice 🤤 We were told they were already over 90 orders in 😮‍🔥

Good food, good company, and even better knowing it’s all for a great cause 🤗

#CBBurgerBash #SupportLocal #CapeBretonEats

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I won’t say it was bad timing, because lovely social circumstances allowed it. But it wasn’t exactly good timing, as the “maybe 48 hours between burgers, hoser” guideline was abrogated. But here I am (that’s the present historic, building narrative tension. I left, so don’t come here, assassins), at @noshandnector for @cbburgerbash

I do need to ask what, precisely, is a nector? Or is it who? King of Pylos? A bee’s fave bevvie? The boat what started the Highland Clearances to Pictou County love train?

Ah well; they produced The Italian Smasher, comprising lemon tarragon aioli, provolone, arugula, some cured meats atop a smash burger. This might be the most delicate of the burgers so far, but this is meant as a compliment. One can eat it and not feel weighted down. To dive in with broad gender generalizations: it is not so much that this is dainty, but this was the first one that felt like it wasn’t trying to bro out. Bigger, spicier, cheesier, complexier, demanding your attention lest coach make him sit out the big game, this is not. This is aware of its many qualities and will just let the manosphere rant until it needs its juice box. This is the Jane Curtin of Cape Breton burgers.

Companion ordered fingerling potatoes, so I did too. Because I’m a lady.

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As a lonely lonely man, I have held off going to the upstairs of @bretoncrafthouse for @cbburgerbash as the new hot spots where they gots the champagne oughtn’t have a four- or even two-top taken up by Joe Solo. Yet timing presented an opportunity, and there was a place at the bar, so monodining worked out.

Thus ‘The Birria Burger.’ I am assuming that birria has just entered the Anglo-palate recently, just long enough for hipsters to hold me in contempt for not having heard of it. “It’s 2026 and you’re still an adobo person? How dreadfully sad!” you are all saying. Despite its idionovelty, it’s lovely. Deep without being overly spicy, both in the birria-braised short rib and the birria sauce. I have gone from never having typed birria to doing it five times. And the side of chips in lieu of fries: a surprisingly good idea.

But, I can take or leave short rib. It is done as well it gets here but, even so, it feels like a mouthful of wet meat. It’s one step above pulled pork, which is a double mouthful of umami twine that somehow manages to be simultaneously moist and arid, like most student essays. That’s a me thing though. Apparently y’all can’t get enough of it.

With an assignation, I am scheduled for another burger tomorrow, flouting my “no more than every other day” policy. See you at tha crossroads.

(Shout out to @bethanyjunemusic who took her set break at the bar and put up with old man chatting)

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