Much more than a snack: Mitsoh aims to preserve and share Indigenous culture, too

It is said when you’re passionate about your work, it doesn’t really feel like work. For Ian Gladue and his Indigenous enterprise Mitsoh (‘eat’ in Cree), it’s much more than round-the-clock attention put into a flourishing business. It’s his life. And what a life. Drugs, homelessness, a life-altering accident – every step has led Gladue, (who comes from Wabasca First Nation on Treaty 8 Territory) to where he is today, sharing his culture and traditions while growing Canada’s first national Indigenous food company. 

Gladue’s rapid rise (first with Native Delights food truck and restaurant, and now the wholesale and online brand of dry meat snacks, Mitsoh), is impressive, coming about a decade after his lifelong love of cooking led him to create Edmonton’s first Indigenous food cart. “I failed the inspection to get the okay for the cart, probably eight times. But I just couldn’t give up. It wasn’t in me,” Gladue says, pointing to a stubbornness he’s had all his life. “It’s partly why I left home at 13 and made my way to Edmonton. For many years after, I was taking and selling drugs, and had a lot of money in my pocket. It was all about living for the day.” 

Ian Gladue

Gladue’s story (which he now shares with Indigenous youth and at other motivational speaking engagements), included years spent couch surfing and living on the streets, working on the oil rigs, selling and using drugs and alcohol, and even enduring two stints in jail, until his first child was born. It was a real wakeup call. “I looked in the mirror one day, and saw that drugs had consumed me. I quit right then and there. I wanted more for my daughter, more for me,” Gladue says. 

Fast forward a few years of saving money (though the plan was derailed when he sustained burns to over 25 percent of his body in a workplace accident, thus ending the career on the rigs). After months in hospital re-learning to walk, and working to forgive others and, most importantly, himself, Gladue returned to his first love – preparing food in kitchens and concessions. “I let go of a lot of anger and I finally did pass that food cart inspection. I had a dream of working for myself, and I hadn’t given up on that.” 

His first effort, dubbed Mercedes (for his first daughter), became a hit when Gladue started selling bannock burgers and ‘native’ tacos in Edmonton’s Churchill Square on weekday lunchtimes to a public eager for that cuisine. “We blew up on social media. I saw how popular Indigenous food could be, but until then, it had only been available at Pow Wows,” he remembers. “I was determined to change that; to bring it to the city and expose it to other Canadians too.” 

A food truck came after the food cart, (at local events like K-Days, A Taste of Edmonton, Folk Fest, Big Valley Jamboree and more), and then the restaurant – Native Delights, on 118 Avenue. After a couple of years spent showcasing bannock burgers and Rez dogs, it was the burgeoning sales of dry meat (Pânsâwân), which revealed a different path forward. 

“Success with the food truck and restaurant was my goal. But people kept asking to order the dry meat, and that part of the business just took off,” he says. “I started to see my bigger purpose – to preserve and share my culture; to teach about Indigenous traditions.” 

As Mitsoh launched during the pandemic, Gladue (with wife and co-founder Rondell), made the difficult decision to shut down the restaurant and go all in with dry meat/pemmican sales. 

“We had been kicking butt. Everyone knew who we were. But I had to swallow my pride and shut the restaurant to refocus my time and energy on Mitsoh,” Gladue recalls, adding Native Delights hasn’t disappeared completely. Thanks to catering and some summer events, the bannock burger lives on. “At the time, I told my mom I still felt something was missing, that I wanted to give back more. Over the previous years, I had received thousands of messages from Indigenous people saying, ‘You inspire me,’ I hadn’t even realized the impact we were making on our people.” 

Gladue says he watched his mom cutting meat one day when the answer came to him: “What could be more authentic to Canadian cuisine than our own, original foods?’ 

Now, with Mitsoh, it’s all about authenticity. Dried bison meat, prepared traditionally as Indigenous ancestors have done for centuries, is mixed with prairie-sourced berries (saskatoons, blueberries, strawberries) and a bit of maple syrup, smoke, and salt and pepper to create pemmican sticks (a higher end jerky-type snack) sold at over 600 retail doors across the country, online and locally through Uproot Collective. Bulk bagged dry meat is also part of the product line for public and wholesale/retail sales. 

Brandon Markiw is Mitsoh co-CEO, a food industry pro who jumped on board with Gladue after hearing his story over a coffee meetup a few years ago. “I met Ian and two weeks later, we were in business together; five months later I became his partner,” explains Calgary-based Markiw, who founded the Groundswell Food Group which produces a few brands out of the Food Processing Development Centre in Leduc. “I’m obsessed with these meat snacks. It meets my personal criteria for a natural quality snack, and it resonates with athletes, hikers, backpackers. It’s a high protein, gluten free ‘superfood’ with no additives, no preservatives,” Markiw says. “We took Pânsâwân through the pandemic and have repositioned it for mass market appeal. It is going mainstream.” 

Gladue acknowledges there’s a movement underway in the country; a hunger to embrace an Indigenous-led business partly because of efforts/awareness around Truth and Reconciliation. But there’s also a desire for authentic, unique, experiences around the country’s founding foods, traditions and culture. Mitsoh is a perfect fit, Markiw says, pointing to its place in a booming food category (part of the $12 billion US snack industry in North America, and the emerging sub-category of ‘better-for-you’ snacks). Mitsoh pemmican sticks are already being distributed across the country, sold in big groceries, convenience stores, health/organic spots, hotels, gift shops, to school boards and first responders, and potentially to industrial camps in Northern Alberta. 

But just as important to Gladue, if not more so, Mitsoh gives him a platform to tell his story and that of others affected by intergenerational trauma and residential schools; of those who’ve lost homes, land or their native languages. “I’m a spiritual man – I see all of this as a blessing,” says 46-year-old Gladue, now a dad to six (Mercedes and Paige, and four boys; Bodhi, Kai, and twins Kaelo and Maz). Living on an acreage near Beaumont with his mom and auntie, Gladue says he’s more connected to his community than ever; hosting occasional sweat lodges since he got clean and sober in 2013, and consulting with elders on major decisions around his company.  

As the company continues its rapid trajectory, Gladue says work is still a 24/7 venture, and balancing it with family is the next short-term goal. But in the meantime, he’s finding great satisfaction in creating a food that nourishes body and spirit, and honours the deep connection to his heritage. “It’s been a leap of faith,” he adds. “But we’ve always believed in what we’re doing. It’s exactly what we wanted to happen.”