Having visited Cabane À Sucre Au Pied de Cochon a half-dozen times and written about it almost as many, we're no strangers to chef Martin Picard's maple-drenched circus in St Benoit de Mirabel. We've witnessed and enjoyed multiple incarnations of the menu. We've sat, just the two of us at the bar, and considered getting a hotel so we didn't have to endure the drive home under the spell of food induced lethargy. We've shouted across a table of 14 friends and family members for someone to quit hogging the tourtière and we've experienced the meal with just about every other amount of people in between. We've come not only to look forward to maple season each year, but we've somehow been perennially bestowed the daunting expectation of obtaining the reservation for our group - thanks guys. With each visit we've acquired a little more knowledge concerning the ins-and-outs of the journey. We've learned to negotiate the nuances of the chaotic parking lot, to pace ourselves throughout the marathon of a meal and to always request a table during second service so we don't have eager diners stepping on our heels. We've become desensitized to the portions, the excess, and to peoples dumbfounded reactions on their first visit. We've been made the bad guy when there simply wasn't enough room for all the people that had expected to join us.