a gustatory adventure

Maria and I started our day at Beauty’s Luncheonette. It was a little overpriced, but the atmosphere was swell and the food was tasty. I'm told there's usually a crazy wait to get a seat, but Maria and I just breezed on in. My pancakes were lovely, sincere versions and the blueberries were fresh-tasting. The syrup on the other hand...let's say it was more caramel-colored sugar water than maple syrup!

Anyway, Maria's spinach and red pepper omelet with hash browns was hearty and well-seasoned. But what's with all the brown cooked bits on the omelet? This may be a little exigent, but you lose much of the delicacy and softness of the egg when you let it cook so long (or at such a high heat). Brown bits on the potatoes, however...heaven!

Next, we drove up to the Jean-Talon market, one of the most exciting open markets I've visited. First of all, it's huge. Rows and rows of fresh fruit and vegetables - all arranged like bouquets -, then there's booths for honey, maple syrup, cider and ice wine, cheese shops, butcher shops, stands of cured pork and homemade sausage, all surrounded by a sea of flowers. Maria and I got hooked by the mangos, which I wouldn't have expected to be as deliciously floral as they were. One of the nice things about the Jean-Talon market is that the vendors will give you samples of their fresh produce. When we sampled the mango it was so wonderful I bought 6!

We had one more stop to make: Paul Patates. I read this was the best place to get hot dog steamies and the only place to get a homemade spruce beer float.Let me say: Yum! Everything at Paul Patates was delicious! Especially the spruce beer float. Spruce beer itself is very light and refreshing, with that tinny pine tone. What I especially liked about it is how the soft serve ice cream makes thin little ice crystals in the spruce beer. It's almost like eating a little brush of pine needles with snow on top!

Elvis...like a bad penny

Maria and I visited Old Montreal while she was in town. It's really a beautiful neighborhood, right on the water, with a mix of ornate European-style architecture and the rusted remains of port industry.


It's also become a bit of a tourist haven. Complete with a golden Elvis.

And we thought we got away from this guy!

What is it with those giant plastic cups, anyway? When people go on vacation, do they just expect those? Or is it the vendors? I guess they're onto something...it's probably only through drunken eyes that their rows of tiny Canadian flags, spoons, shot glasses and beavers could look good.

Something that did look mighty appealing to me and Maria were these:


Boules au miel, or honey balls. And they taste as good as they look! Some people were ordering them with soft serve ice cream on top, or chocolate syrup. Maria and I decided to go with simplicity. They taste like New Orleans' beignets (and with that almost indefinable vanilla richness that donuts never seem to achieve), but soaked in a very light honey rather than powdered sugar. The shop, le Volcan, also offers another Quebec specialty: beaver tail. I'm not quite sure what that is, but I plan on finding out soon.

The Fringe

There are so many things to do at the Fringe Festival, trying to relate it all threatens the coherency of a single entry. But I'll try anyway...coherency is an overrated ideal.

On St. Laurent the street food vendors stretched out like the ocean. Maria and I tried Jamaican patties, churros, fresh lemonade, Schwartz's sandwiches, chicken burritos, mango on a stick, and crepes with banana and nutella. But what we really wanted was to see some shows, preferably for free. So, we dropped in on a band from Austin playing in the Parc des Transameriques. We thought they were great...that is, until they stopped tuning up....

What we didn't anticipate was that the Parc des Transameriques would be the scene of something even less savory: The Cultural Gargantuan.

First off, we were tricked into going. I mean, they were offering free pancakes! Who can say no to free pancakes? In retrospect, I should have glanced at their pedigree. Had the pancakes been delicious as fluffy little maple clouds they still wouldn't have excused the display of rampantly poor theatre we endured for them. Unfortunately, the pancakes were so gritty and undercooked that they just added to our feeling of being swindled. I won't belabor the point: the "Cultural Gargantuan" was a vehicle for the production of "Fear of a Fat Planet" in which large, over-exposed women threw themselves around a stage and made out while eating bacon. We left after about 10 minutes.


In fact, if there's anyone wondering what the Fringe Festival in Montréal is all about, I think this poster kind of sums it up:


Got a run in your favorite pair of fishnet stockings? Well, sister, you're just going to have to wait until after the Fringe to replace them. Everyone's sold out.

We did catch a good show the next day, though: My Origami Motorcycle. The tale of one woman's motorcycle adventure across Canada to find her muse. Kind of a metaphor for Maria's life...except in her motorcycle adventure, when the bugs hit you, it doesn't hurt.

Spring Snow