Gastronomy Blog

I'm back in Canada again. Don't about a invite, it'll just make you sad. And strangely - instead of being in Toronto with my family, I'm in Montreal (a city I lived in for 5 years, 5 years ago) having a mini-vacation. Again, don't beseech - but enough to communicate in two days I'm heading to Toronto to take carefulness of some sad family affairs.

But for nowadays, I'm making lemonade with lemons and visiting prehistoric friends and old eating favourites and its captivating as I'm hunting down my above-mentioned tried and verified eating experiences on a distant, five year old trail. This seems to have seized bench selection most - but I had a few nasty surprises when I tried to track down that grey hole-in-the-wall Rather residence only to find it closed. But fortunately, there appear to be some institutions that go on to stand the test of adjust.

So any former Montrealer, when returning to the conurbation, immediately sets their homing signal towards 1 thing: BAGELS. Montreal bagels are baked in one or two shops (although there are divers imitators around the city that do less good versions): Fairmount or St. Viateur. While there doesn't appear to be a in dispute between these two bakeries there seems to be more than tolerably business to go around, one does tend to hold his/her own preference with regard to the two. I often go to St. Viateur... mostly concern Fairmount seems to be too crowded whenever I try to expand my horizons or look like.

See how that bagel control beckons you like a creepy Japanese cat? it truly is a signal call, my friends.

Now, Montreal bagels different from New York, or conventional bagels in numberless ways. They are much smaller, chewier, they come in only 2 flavours (poppyseed or sesame) and they are cooked in an old-fashioned wood oven. multifarious a debate has been fostered over which types of bagels are superior: myriad unheard of Yorkers have come to Montreal, seen the strong, chewy tiny bagels and proudly proclaimed that these were no bagels that they could recognise. However, I love Montreal bagels appropriate for several reasons: you can taste the ancient wood oven, and each bagel has a smoky nuttiness, and really, who needs such colossus bagels? matrix time I was in NYC with N eating 1 bagel with cream cheese would render me stuffed for 5 hours - and plug up the plumbing to boot! No, my boyfriend, Montreal bagels are where its at.

Here are the proud workers packing up my dozen sesame, and preparing a new line of little dough bagels to be set up on those hanker planks before being plunged into the oven. When the bagels are ready the oven-throw pulls the slab unconscious and dramatically swings it up vertically, and the bagels show a clean pair of heels including the mood before landing peaceably in the bagel-dock. Its masterful.

They came to me over from the oven, a blonde choice chewy gift from rapture. Thank you, St. Viateur, and Montreal bagels in all places. The other wonderful fear about St. Viateur is that its open 24 hours, and I can't reputation the digit of 4am missions we went on in order to get some fresh senseless of the oven.

On a side note, as I walked away from the bagel seek, I noticed a church having a bazaar. not in the least one to direction down randomly discovered kitsch, I wandered in solitary to regard this menu:

 It was a Ukranian Catholic Church, and it was full of people chowing down.  I decided on Borscht, saving my proclivity in behalf of future adventures.  I ordered it with meatballs, and I was given a sweet steaming mug of bright pink pinched borscht with a yoke of delicious meatballs hidden at the foundation:

 It whetted my apetite for the tastes of Eastern Europe so readily base all over Canada (one has a grama who makes perogies, or if not, your friends grama makes periogies and they give you frozen ziploc bags full)... and I set disheartening down St. Laurent to search in the interest the spot on varenkes (pierogies)... which will have to wait during another post.

tickled pink Birthday (to me!) and Happy Halloween!