Bievennue a Montreal: Où sommes-nous?

Ce que vous pouvez découvrir si vous êtes perdus à Montréal: Part Three in a Series.

Sometimes getting there is half the fun. I think I said it best in my (private) journal.

"With all the best intentions to leave at the ungodly hour of 8 am, we were finally on the road by quarter to 10. Tim Hortons was still serving breakfast, which is earlier that I'm motivated to get my ass out of the door on the best of days. Not being accustomed to actually making it on time for breakfast, of course we ordered bagels and BLTs. I drove the 6+ (+++) hours, as Irish was nursing one hulluva hangover from last afternoon's excursion to the Jay's game. I'm pretty proud of her for keeping that BLT down. At 11, only at Markham Rd, I tried to burn the car down with a cigarette butt. Back on the highway, we gabbed. Then she napped while I grooved to some oldies. Then we had a pretty hard-core heart-to-heart which turned in..."

I was writing this while illegally parked, waiting for Irish to check-in. Because we couldn't park until we checked in. What bullshit is that? Quality Hotel. Dad asked me if they spelled Quality with a K. But now, to continue on this train of thought...

...which turned into an epic rant-fest. Of course we missed our exit. Got off at another, and started driving to the hotel. Story of my life, we were going the wrong way. So we turned around. And alas, once the road ended, we realized we were going a wronger way.

Uh-oh! We're lost!! Take a picture!!

__________________________________________________________

EDITOR'S NOTE: Ok SER-I-OUS-LY how in the hell do we keep getting lost while all along we're in the right direction? What is wrong with us? Suicidal brain-cells?!? (in anticipation of the debauchery the weekend would hold in store?)

We def spent a lot of our trip lost and wandering. Boy did we put our grade 7 geography lessons to use. Map reading? An invaluable skill. Although, we lamented not having a compass.

By the end of the 4 days, our map was in tatters. But we never got lost on day 4. That was a successful day (until we tried to get home. And I wasn't 100% sure where we were. Then we missed an exit and had to take a delightful detour.)

Lost, yet again. Familiar territory. We'll be in Toronto in 6+++ hours __________________________________________________________

How many maps does it take to navigate our way out of this city? Three. __________________________________________________________

We spent much of our days on the quest for M:Brgr (which I must say, was worth it). The problem (for once) wasn't our poor sense of direction, rather, just not knowing what the place was called. And, alas, google failed us. On our first unsuccessful attempt, we ended up at a lovely little place called Dundees, where we shared quesadillas and poutine, and I got tipsy off of three $12 raspberry mohitos.

Unapologetic.
__________________________________________________________

We also spent a good part of our trip in search of a club. Some place happenin'. Everyone always says that Montreal is a party city. So where the party-at? Ah, sketchy nights, wandering the streets, slightly intoxicated. That's how I shall always remember the fair city.

Just lookin' for a good time.
__________________________________________________________

Got lost in search of La Croix at Mount-Royal. Got lost trying to make our way back to civilization. We even *gasp* stopped and asked for directions. Damn, that park was large. Even almost got off at the wrong bus stop on our way to the park.

Irish and I enjoy the thrill of finding your own way, and exploring parts of the city you would never stumble upon otherwise. Let's face it, that's pretty much what I do in Toronto anyway.

Map reading: an invaluable skill!
__________________________________________________________

The problem was that Montreal is so small! What seems like miles and miles on the map may only take you a few minutes. We were constantly over-shooting everything. 

Including our sojourn to suburbia. Well, you can't really blame two Scarborough girls for being lured into the gentle caress of the suburbs. We took the metro a little too far north. We were off the map. We were so unbearably, confusingly lost. 

So we took a breather on a bench, tried to gather our bearings, and were delighted to see such randomness, all from the vantage point of our bench.

This light-hearted graphic on a sari-shop sign turned our frowns upside-down. __________________________________________________________

Mannequins with serious 'dos.
__________________________________________________________

Gold. Jewelery. Computers. Video Games. Tools. Bicycles.
Musical Instruments. TV. DVD. Cameras. Film XXX. Etc...?
__________________________________________________________

*Shrugs shoulders* It was an interesting door. Lots of texture. I'm not just silly all the time.
I'm at least a 2-dimensional character.
__________________________________________________________

Passive-aggressive? Or ironic? You be the judge. __________________________________________________________

The lost-pose.
__________________________________________________________

Happy travels and happy wanders!

You know the drill, stay tuned tomorrow for part 4 of our series: Ok, nous l'avons trouvé: que faire et que voir quand vous êtes à Montréal

Bienvennue a Montreal: Manger et Diner...

Comment vous pouvez gagner du poids quand vous etes dans Montreal. Part 2 in a series.

Where ever you wander in this life, whether you create a most-detailed, to-the-minute itinerary or you simply show-up and roll with the punches, a little preliminary food-research will always serve you well. (I mean, why would you ever eat at Mickey-Dees and contemporaries, when there are entirely new palates and flavours to be discovered?)

And Montreal is no exception. Crepes and poutine are a must. (although, I would caution against in one sitting.) We didn't find anywhere that served the exceptionalle, so ask around, eat around (and then let me know where to procure the best of the best). Bagels, we missed out on, but worth a sampling, being toted as the world's best after New York.

A trip to Montreal is not complete without a Montreal Smoked Meat Sandwich. We checked out Reuben's on Ste Catherine, which boasted the best smoked meat sandwiches in the city. So what is Montreal smoked meat? (known simply, as smoked meat when you're in the city.)

Some compare it to pastrami, brisket or corned beef, but anyone will tell you that authenticity can ONLY be found in Montreal. You can even bring home a brisket for Ma and Pop. (I didn't. Should I have? I was thoroughly chastised.)

Reuben's serves up thin, pink slices of smoky, salty goodness, stacked mile-high on a dense, malty slice of rye, lightly kissed by the toaster. A pickle and a hot pepper add a little oomph, and the pungency of the mustard just cuts the saltiness of the meat in a very special way. Reuben's may look unassuming from the street. But head down stairs, and you're instantly taken into a very classy, and very out-of-date deli.

The staff were most welcoming, but it's the food that will have you coming back for seconds. And taking a brisket (or two) home with you. (seriously, can you pick one up for me?)

Ah, M:Brgr. A place that sells $49 pitchers of sangria, $400 bottles of dom and $500 for a bottle of cristal. I had a coke. We made the mistake of going here for lunch. Come hungry, and stay for dinner. M:Brgr is not some simple burger joint. With ingredients on the menu such as goat cheese, smoked apple-wood bacon, fois gras, truffle aiole and porchini mushrooms, this place takes gourmet burgers to a whole new level.

For those on a beer wallet, there's AAA beef, and for those with champagne tastes, try the kobe. We came for le big zak. ($15.95)

This is how a Big Mac should taste: fresh ingredients, lovingly prepared. The burger is prefectly grilled, the whole-wheat bun lightly toasted. Tomatoes and lettuce are crisp and fresh. And the "secret" sauce? Secret, no more! Try le petit big zak ($9.95) and save room for M:Burger's delicious sides. We shared a seemingly unlimited bowl of french-fried onions, which absolutely sang in my mouth.



Alas, no pictures of le petit big zak. It was devoured too quickly. But doesn't this intrigue your appetite?


A trip to Montreal wouldn't be complete without a night of french cuisine. Chez Goutier was a quick walk from our hotel. The patio was intimate and tres classy.

Not only do the French know how to eat, but they know how to dine. Eat late, eat long, good food, good wine, good conversation; the recipe for a perfect evening.

We began with a French Onion Soup. And if you've never had Onion soup before, you don't know what you're missing. (And if you've only tried the Tim Horton's incantation, then you are truly depraved.) The beef and onion broth was light yet hearty. The soup is simplicity: broth, onions, fat pieces of bread sopping in flavour. Top it with cheese, and then bake. It's a soup that'll put hair on your chest and meat on your bones. Perfect after a long winter's day, and delightful on a patio on a cool summer's eve.

For the main course, I thought fish? butter? Parfait! The salmon was moist, light and not overwhelming. The butter-sauce was absolute divinity. It was served with green and yellow beans, which were perfectly prepared and tasted like they were picked yesterday, next-door.

Of course we drank wine. Which I would recommend, not dry, not sweet, just the prefect red.


A cafe au lait and creme brulee rounded out the evening. Chip away the perfectly caramelized crust to discover a creamy, not-too-sweet custard. Heavenly!

Dinner for 2? $116.

We didn't get to taste any Quebecois cuisine, but I urge you to go to Quebec City for the split-pea soup. And maple-syrup specialties.

To enhance your Montreal experience drink lots of red wine, perrier and expresses and cappuccinos. Eat lots of croissants and pastries.

May you come home, 10 pounds fatter.

Bon appetit!!

Stay tuned tomorrow for the third installment in my Bievennue a Montreal series. Où sommes-nous? Ce quevous pouvez découvrir si vous êtes perdus à Montréal