O Canada (Montreal)
This bright little shop is a walk-in walk-out situation and when I went there on a Saturday afternoon was MOBBED with eager kids and their parents.
The proprietors, dressed in cute striped uniforms, had the patience of saints while the littluns tried out flavor after flavor on their tiny spoons before deciding on what they wanted. I was totally patient, too. Totally.
I went with sorbet -- although there was some interesting sounding ice cream, like macha, that they were out of -- and small coupe had two flavors. The hibiscus was really nice, if a little too sweet but the lime mint was divine.
Arriving at the Fonderie Darling, I passed through the end of the historical Vieux Montreal and into a factory-converted-to gallery enclave.
Although the FD was closed to accept and set up a new exhibit, I spoke with two very helpful and friendly gallery employees who let me peek in at their work in progress. The gallery is a large industrial space, where they accommodate contemporary sculpture, mixed media and new media visual art installations -- with emphasis on the experimental -- in a very slick and industrial space. On the main floor is Cluny artbar, a resto open when the gallery is open, drawing more visitors into proximity to the art.
Helpfully, they sent me to DHC gallery where I could "get my afternoon art fix".
I forgot this is in the anglophone part of Montreal. So when I ordered in French (like I had been trained to do over the past few days) the very weird server kept replying in English -- the opposite of how things were in the rest of town. Ah, the politics of language. But she kept giggling oddly and half talking to me, half talking to the bakers behind her. It made for a strange experience, like I was talking to someone playing the role of insane asylum escapee. Anyway.
The bagels were sweeter than a NY bagel but my favorite part was that there was less to them -- so you didn't feel like you were eating four servings of carbs (which is about what a NY bagel is) but maybe just two. I got a few of these on my last day and the sesame was by FAR the best, and the heavily carroway-seeded/salted bagel a surprising close second. The one with chocolate chips in it tempted me but I tossed it after a few bites because it just tasted off -- poor quality chocolate and not the right dough to mix with it.
I'd recommend these as "straight from the oven" as you can get them, but the couple I took home remained chewy and delightful for a few days in the tied up bag.
"clearly you can see she is going to masturbate her after she has already done so herself!"
Despite these overzealous art fans freaking out the guard with their finger pointing at soft places depicted in the painting, it was a very cool layout to the gallery.
Museumology says the way art is displayed is half the enjoyment of the experience of taking it in. DHC has one exhibition space of 4 floors, so you can take things in at your own pace. The second space, two doors down, had two large open rooms with just enough in them to avoid being overwhelming.
Currently John Currin in the former and some very disturbing but poignant work by Berlinde De Bruyckere in the latter.
"This would be good, nay amazing, if I were drunk."
Got the warning/rec from Ad and she was spot on. It's a perfectly fine, heavy dish and you shouldn't get anything else. A thin gravy covers cheese curds over browned fries (should we call them québécois fries?). I made it about a third through the plate when I gave up, but I was sober.
The servers are cheeky college kids rocking out to radiohead. Broken glass and remnants of past diners littered under the back deck.
Go for drunk food, share with friends.
Lost points for letting a group of rude teenagers smoke right next to me. Gross. Also thanks for asking whether I'd mind. (in case my sarcasm doesn't translate, they didn't ask)
This place is ridiculous and awesome. It's Christmas ALL. THE. TIME!
The staff wear kicky green vests over red shirts and are as happy as anyone you can think of who is obsessed with Christmas.
I have to say, in attempting to buy my dad an (inside joke related) Quebecois nutcracker, the staff had to bring out four boxes to find one without a defect -- peeling paint, broken flag, etc. -- so the quality of some of the items is less than Santa's-elf-worthy.
And contrary to what crankypants grinch Patrice below me (filtered French) says, they do not in fact sell fudge in the shape of the little lord Jesus and the Three Kings, etc.
I mean... that would just be absurd.
It's been a while, but I'm going to just say it: foie gras is better than sex.
And this foie gras was a world apart. Transcendent. The last time I had it this good was at my 23 birthday at Georges in Paris. Take that how you will.
They brought it out first. Because they knew.
The foie gras terrine had a layer of cherry to it and was split in two rectangular cubes on either side of the plate and both the foie gras and the bunch of perfect brioche triangles rested on a bed of apricot confit. The apricot was not sweet; it took me a moment to place it and I would not call it jam, more finely diced dried abricots. Creamy, rich and just right with the cherry & apricot elements, this should not be missed.
The mini bison burgers were tiny, juicy bites of perfection and the fries were a tiny cone of crispy, buttery goodness. The house sauce and pickle added tang to the burgers, sandwiched in their poppy seeded brioche mini buns.
Light and fresh, the ricotta gnocchi with tomatoes/basilic were tiny soft pillows, with an aromatically fresh sauce. Delightful and refreshing, if outshone by the other things we had.
Flight of Bordeaux, was presented with the bottles behind them, but before I had a chance to note them, they were whisked away. At least two of them were really good and gave a chance to sample more than I would have had as a full glass.
The Assiette de mignardises was an adorable display of tiny cookies/treats, from macarons to jammy squares to madeleines. Totally share-able (see photo).
This place is one of the reasons I cannot wait to go back to Montreal!
I tweeted this from the platform : The #Montréal #métro reminds me of the #Paris métro: no litter to be seen, just the smell of trains and their rubber tires, underground
I like the recycle bins; I liked the three day card, although they screwed me out of a day when I got one ~7pm on a Wed, it expired midnight Fri., not ~7pm Sat, as I'd thought. The Metro isn't cheap! so it mattered to me.
The two or three STM employees that encountered were pleasant and as helpful as they could be, although some didn't know the areas they were stationed in very well. Hmm...
Listes mises à jour récemment par Claire F.
[Edited for Manhattan only]
Beck said : "Make Out City's a two-horse town". I have no idea what that means, but here's where it's at.
(Two turntables and a microphone optional.)