it’s thanksgiving today in canada. apparently, it’s not such a big deal here like it is in the states. canadians gather with their family, but not necessarily on the actual thanksgiving day. and they may or may not eat turkey. which is prolly why they don’t call it “turkey day.” they’re like, whatevs about the whole thing.
we’re gathering with friends today and NOT eating turkey. and for that, i am thankful. turkey with all those starchy sides is overrated.
the S.O. told me that torontonians call their city “t-dot.” huh? “t-dot. because it’s T.O. for toronto, ontario.” ohhh, riiiiight.
people compare toronto to nyc but i really don’t see it. nyc has grit and attitude; toronto is clean and polite. nyc is an ethnic mixed bag; so far, toronto looks mostly white. t-dot actually reminds me of s-dot (S.F.). they’re both sprawling cities with posh, woodsy areas of huge houses, as well as not so savory nabes. they’re both a pain to get around if you don’t have your own set of wheels. and they’re both kinda weird about certain vices. did you know that in the ontario area (and maybe other parts of canada except quebec), you can’t buy beer or wine at the supermarket or neighborhood liquor store? you have to haul your alky ass to a government-run center where they levy hefty “sin taxes” on alcoholic bevs. they have two kinds of centers: one for beer and one for wine/hard alcohol, and they’re always spread out really far from each other. wha? i thought the nazis lost the war…
on a brighter note, i got my kimchi on in koreatown on bloor st. you can read all about my experience on chowhound.com (scroll down to the bottom for my dining highlights). even that reminded me of the k-town in oakland. they’re both in run-down parts of town and serve big portions for small prices. i would go there a lot except, we have to walk 5 blocks to the street car, take it to the subway, then transfer or walk like ten more blocks. the blocks are looong here. i guess as a new yorker and former seoul resident, i take the convenience of public transportation for granted.
all right, that’s enough of my griping. at least for now.
when you visit certain cities, you can’t leave without trying their signature dish. for new york, it’s a slice of pizza; chicago, a hot dog; and for montreal, it’s poutine. (i never got to try poutine on my last trip to montreal because like i said, la korean bus tour only took us to lame-o korean restaurants.)
as you would expect from a region with a heavy french influence, the food in montreal is quite tasty. it also seems to be super amped with butter, cheese, cream and other fatty add-ins. i suppose this is meant to create a layer of blubber in your body that is thick enough to get you through the hellaciously brutal winters that montreal is famous for. a case in point, i had an amazing french onion soup at restaurant l’actuel that was one third broth and two-thirds cheese gratin topping. it was delicious but holy moly, i could feel cardiac arrest approaching with each bite
i think it’s that fattier-than-thou philosophy that spawned poutine. for the uninitiated, poutine is a dish of fries, cheese curds and gravy. french fries are a guilty pleasure for me but when you add gooey cheese curds and hot savory gravy, dang, that’s enough to send my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
the S.O. knew a great place that would deliver the poutine straight to our door. isn’t that just the height of laziness? if you’re about to consume something with enough calories to fuel michael phelps for a day, you ought to at least expend 50 of those calories to go pick it up your damn self. but yeah, we were feeling pretty beat after a week of sightseeing and socializing and wedding attending.
so this is how we came upon the grand poutine from alto’s, a fast food joint popular with the mcgill university crowd. it arrived in a foil container all hot and delicious-smelling. we pried off the lid to reveal a mess of fries bathed lovingly in the cheese curds and gravy. the cheese curds had melted into the gravy and with each forkful of fries, they created a tangle of stringy, stretchy goop straight up to our greedy mouths.
that was how we ended our last night in montreal, and our first leg of the great “north american wedding tour.” one down and two more to go. next wedding stop: toronto.
canadians eat some strange things. some of it is delicious, like poutine. some of it is just…strange, like scotch broth soup. it’s the S.O.’s favorite soup from a can. i’d never heard of it before i met him and i wasn’t converted when i tried it in england. i’m quite sure americans don’t eat scotch broth. at least not in nyc because we couldn’t find it at any of the local supermarkets.
so i was really surprised when we went to the moma in new york and saw scotch broth as one of the the featured campbell’s soup cans by andy warhol. i wonder if people back then ate scotch broth but it got eclipsed by chicken noodle and cream of mushroom.
if you’re wondering what scotch broth is, according to wikipedia:
Scotch broth is a filling soup, originating in Scotland but now obtainable world wide. The principal ingredients are usually barley, stewing or braising cuts of beef or – more authentically – lamb, and root vegetables such as carrots, turnips or swedes. Greens – particularly cabbage and leeks can also be added, usually towards the end of cooking to preserve flavour and texture. Dried pulses are often used too, along with the traditional barley. The proportions and ingredients vary according to the recipe or availability
i think the version i tried was made with mutton and it was by heinz, not campbell’s. it may or may not have contained dried pulses. if only i knew what the heck dried pulses are.
i’m in montreal, quebec, canada. it’s a funny place. all the signs are in french. i hear french spoken all around me. yet the S.O. assures me that i don’t have to speak french because the francophones will understand english. i went to see the movie, mamma mia and all the pre-show trivia questions were in french. but then the trailers and film were in english with no subtitles. this is a bizarre land where everyone is perfectly bilingual.
the last time i came to montreal was like ten years ago. i was duped into accompanying my great aunt. nobody told me that i was accompanying her on a korean bus tour of canada and that we would hit four cities in four nights; montreal, ottawa (why?), toronto and the obligatory pilgrimage to niagara falls. everyone else on the tour was part of an old korean couple. the only other young person was the girlfriend of the bus driver and she wanted to be my best friend. meals were included in the tour package, and each lunch and dinner was at a bad korean restaurant. when no korean restaurant was nearby, they took us to old china buffet and everyone on the tour complained. each day we hopped onto the tour bus, drove to a famous site, got off, took a few snapshots and got back on the bus. i was in hell.
this time around, i have the S.O. as my personal tour guide. he actually lived in montreal for five years. we’re eating the delicious local food and seeing much more of the city. hooray!
i'm suddenly susan. i grew up in new york city. my last home was in korea where i spent three years. i left in 2007 to travel the world, freelance writing to pay the bills. europe, jamaica, fiji, NZ, australia...and i'm still on the road, currently in cape town, south africa. follow me as i continue my journey across the globe.
