Growing up I was known as “The Stroganoff Kid.” The Lipton company had a boxed version of a type of noodles and sauce that I was seriously addicted to. Every Friday when Dad placed an allowance in my outstretched hand I hopped on my bike in search of a box for $1.85. There was nothing in the world I wanted to eat more than Beef Stroganoff. Even on the rare occasion on which my family traveled I would head out for a walk in search of a corner store. Every province catered to this crazy addiction I had. For some bizarre reason, my daughter has come down with the same…