Up and Down

I don't mind telling you, my life is totally chaotic right now. Obligatory disclaimer: I realize that chaos is person-specific and that there's always someone more objectively chaotic than oneself.

My husband's parents aren't doing so well at the moment, health-wise. Scott's older than me, and the younger child in his family, so his parents are older than mine (in their mid 80s). He's never been particularly close to them, though they are close-by, so it's causing some novel family dynamics and a certain amount of personal revelation. I mean, the situation is complex.

On the opposite, my kid is not exactly a ray of sunshine. If I never have to ground her again, it will be too soon. Lord, I'm so sick of the attitude, the thoughtlessness. This phase is not unexpected, in the scheme of child development, but I want to flee! I have no aptitude as a parent. I don't judge myself for it - it is what it is. I'm a natural at many things, but not this. I have no passion for the activity. And I'm beaten down by 16 years of standing my ground. Really, I'm tired.

Work has calmed down for the moment but it's a sputtering volcano. I'm less burned out than I was last month, yet I'm still so far from normal - it's like I'm in free-fall.

To add to the fun, I have no idea of what's going on with my fucking renovation. We have a new project manager who's got to do his own due diligence on the basis of newly-completed architectural plans. I won't know till mid June whether he can commit to being finished by December (not that I'll believe him even if he does). Of course, I haven't gone through Committee of Adjustments yet (thanks, new by-law) so I can't permit till I've gained that approval. If I start this reno this year, it won't be till August 1. If I don't, I'll have to live in this house as-is, ever more haggard - the place I mean - till April. FYI, I moved out of this house, mentally, about a year ago.

Every day I come home and see my front garden, the metaphor of my current psyche. It's weedy - so weedy, that my weed-prone next-door neighbours, who finally put in a garden last year, currently have a cleaner front garden than mine. They have no weeds at all anymore (except the hipster kind) and I'm the one who gets judge-y side-eye from the woman 5 houses down.

I'm not even going get started on the liminal backyard.

Then I have to deal with a very administrative task (alluded to previously) which involves assets and citizenship and I'm SO put off by it. I'm struggling with apathy (the result of anger and the utter stupidity of the task).

Everything is creaky and leaky and many of the things that need tending to will not be fixed in the near term.

What can I say? I'm a capable whiner.

On the flipside, I'm also a capable crafter. My creative mind, while not as sharp as usual, hasn't exactly jumped ship. I'm exceedingly grateful for this. Furthermore, physical pain is not a consideration of late. I'm also exceedingly grateful for this.

Yesterday I booked a pretty decadent trip to Montreal and Quebec City at the end of June. Scott and I are going alone. No, the kid doesn't know about it as yet. Don't tell her. She has a new (first) job and a boyfriend and she wouldn't want to join, what with us being there, but that's not the point.

I need to get away. I need to retreat with my husband and the trip we know best involves getting on a train in downtown TO and travelling VIA 1 to downtown Mtl. We'll check into the Gault. Walk to Mile End, then the Plateau. Have dinner at Quartier General with the floor-to-ceiling windows open, saturated in the humid night breeze.

Next day we'll get on the train again and spend 3 hours looking out the window. The view is bucolic defined. If you want to meet Quebec for the first time, ride that corridor. I've booked the seats with the best view. I'll knit - I do that on the train. Scott will listen to music. We'll drink silly little bottles of wine and eat food in squat ceramic plates with tall sides to inhibit spills.

Coming into QC Gare du Palais is truly strange. It''s all kinds of industrial-meets-French-Canadian residential. Graffiti. Grain silos. And then, as you debark into the station, everything changes and becomes chic and clean, much of it crazily old. We can walk to our hotel (the 71) from the station, along cobbled streets of the Old Town. I love that I can make this entire trip without ever setting foot in a car.

I can't tell you how grateful I am to know where to dine. To know that food will be gorgeous. Walking in Quebec is joy. Sitting on a patio, as the sun fades and the streets enliven, is a stunning pleasure. No one knows the summer like the northerners. I suspect my last thought will be of an elegant, cloistered terrace, the air at body temperature, the night-scent of flowers competing with the boozy smell of wine. I'll be eating something sweet and speaking slightly too emphatically about the meaning of the world, truly besotted with my husband, who gives great conversation at the worst of times.

After many days of this, we'll be back on our way to my favourite city. We'll hit the tail end of the day in Old Montreal. We'll try a new restaurant, probably in St. Henri.

In they way it takes thousands of sewing sessions to really understand the craft, it takes many visits to the same destination, to tell the story of a life well-lived. This is why we're getting our asses there as soon as possible. Please stay tuned.

Place You Should Go To

One of my fave restaurants in Montreal is Le Quartier General. It has the added benefit of being about a two minute walk from where we stay on the Plateau, but I'd haul ass from any other part of the city to eat there.

The food is phenomenal. It's BYOB, no corking fee. The ambiance is lively, almost entirely French, often very loud - but in an amiable way. And it's so affordable, it's ridiculous.

Of course, getting a reservation (or a walk-in table) is somewhat tricky, so you have to think ahead unless you're in it for a late weekday lunch. Happily, on my last day in Montreal, after Scott, M and Nicole had headed back to TO (and I was waiting to catch that unforeseenly horrid flight to Philadelphia), I was able to avail myself of a truly fantastic meal:

That's chicken, cooked in the style of duck confit in an awesome reduction made with wild mushrooms. Even that cabbage in the foreground is absurdly delicious. And I loathe cabbage.

As you can see, I'm a fan of the puddings - sticky toffee everything for the win. This is pouding chomeur, the ironic ne plus ultra for the depression-era francophone on the dole.

I cannot begin to explain the perfect density of that white cake (cooked to order, so it was a bit of a wait, though so worth it). With this dessert, ice cream is a necessary complement a) because it's hotter than hell in Mtl in the summer (and many restos do not have AC) and b) that maple sauce is hella sweet! When ice cream levels the blood sugar, you know that's some good shit :-)

Yes I did bring my own demi of wine, but after this food and a bottle of sparkling water, the entire bill (including tax and a generous tip) came to - no freakin' joke - 35 bucks.

I caught the best of the day as I walked the 'hood (the weather did turn as I waited endlessly at Trudeau airport):

Nothing like a semi-eternal winter to bring out your garden A-game... And Laurier park is a beautiful, shaded hub:

I cannot recommend Montreal enough. It's affordable, the food is awesome, the vistas elegant, the culture lively, the language novel (at least for some). The architecture is great, the style even better and these people know how to have fun. As I've said, many times, Toronto is a meh place to vacation but an awesome place to live. Montreal, on the other hand, is where a happening traveler goes for a visit she's sure to enjoy. Don't know that I'd want to live there, but then - living where I do (a 4 hour train ride from city centre to city centre) - I get the best of both worlds.

So, have you been to Montreal? If yes - what's your fave area / place / thing to do? And if you've been - and you really don't like it - feel free to chime in. It's endlessly fascinating to me how one person resonates with a place while another simply does not.

Weather Notwithstanding...

Greetings from the land of wet and cold. My only consolation (well, aside from being on vacation and all) is that it's even wetter and colder in TO. And I'm not there! To quell my weather-related malaise, I'm eating a phenomenal chocolate pot de creme with salty chocolate crumb topping from the patisserie up the road. Got me an espresso by my side and some wild strawberries from Jean Talon. Scott's trying to convince me to have a hard boiled egg (usual breakfast fare) but it ain't happening.

They are very pretty eggs though:

This was the scene for many tables. There was no type of egg you couldn't find.

Happily we made the most of gorgeous, sunny yesterday. We went up the mountain for our usual lunch at Pavillion. I swear, that place has to be some kind of front. I've never seen more than 5 tables full and I've gone there multiple times. And the food is good! I mean, it's not Zagat rated or anything, but everything is fresh and the desserts are awesome and you look over this:

I don't know about you, but I'd take mediocre food for this patio experience. The server, who's always there (they only need one - I mean there are 5 occupied tables in the whole place), is not the friendliest guy. This time, Nicole, M and Scott had a bet to see if we could win him over and, no joke, by the end of the meal, he came up to tell me that we were a delightful table the likes of which he rarely serves. Note: We are always delightful - manners being utterly relevant. And really, the subtext of his comment was that we were delightful for anglophones. So I don't know how much politesse we can accord to him. :-)

After that, M and Nicole went to the botanical gardens and Scott and I went walking on Laurier east, which is about 10 minutes from our place. The architecture is phenomenal, as everyone will tell you:

In case you don't already know this, the rationale for external staircases was to allow for more square footage inside some very tiny early 20th century flats. These days, some of the apartment duplexes (including the one where we're staying) have been converted to two story dwellings so the staircase has been moved, natch, to the inside. But you still see a lot of second floor doors and interesting features that weren't removed during remodel.

Got to love a modern infill:

The courtyard beyond this front gate was a secret garden. We didn't take pics because the front door was at the far side and we didn't want to be intrusive.

On our journey, we bought some tonic and cider and brought it back to chill while we embarked on our third adventure du jour, Parc La Fontaine. This is about 10 minutes in the other direction:

I told Scott not to photograph me (Lord, photographs of me, these days, are hard to look at), but he pretended not to and then did - which is why I'm at the very side of this beautiful view. Parc La Fontaine, named not for its fountain but for a former Chief Justice (like in the 1800s), is a total gem in the middle of everything.

I have spent a lot of time in the Plateau over the last 25 years so I can say with certainty that it really is amongst my optimal neighbourhoods. It is strangely like where I live in TO, from a convenience perspective and given its proximity to the downtown core. It's also a true residential space within an urban backdrop (if less urban that the tall/dense/pointiness of Toronto) - a quality I love about city-living. The laneways are better-groomed, and more treed than ours at home. There's less graffiti and much less tagging. The architecture is as distinctive as Toronto's though, in general, much more appealing (think NYC mixed with rural Quebec). The high-streets are replete with stores that sell the necessities and many fun spots (restaurants, bars, retail shops etc.). What it has in spades, over Toronto, is green space.

In my home-town they just love to chop down the trees. The minute greenery approaches the phone wires (and why the fuck aren't those wires buried at this point, as in the upscale areas??), say bye-bye. It makes for a rather so-so landscape, especially on the streets where the houses aren't so hot. Note: You'll still spend a million bucks on that ugly house.

In Mtl, numerous structural challenges are minimized by beautiful, urban landscaping. When you amble by, you can peer into "white-painted" houses that are inches from the sidewalks (not to mention that it's hot here in the summer so lots o' peeps keep their front doors wedged). The result is a pretty clear view straight through some gorgeous homes - tall ceilings, elegant plaster walls, updated kitchens and bright, well-maintained, tiny back gardens. Note: Just about all of the front-facing windows are covered with curtains or translucent film, so these very publicly-situated homes are still very private. But yeah, I'm one of those peeps who will peer beneath your curtains if there's a little view to be had. To my credit, I'd expect no less of you if you walked by my house (which is much more open to view, if set back much farther from the street and somewhat elevated from the road) on your vacation.

I have always wanted to live in this 'hood and, in my sweet vacation property, I'm once again having the experience. This is so much better than hotelling, my friends. Sure, hotels have their purpose but I am so done with them, in general. I love living like the locals.

Montrealers (or fellow visitors): What's your fave place in this city? Do you share my perspective on the Plateau? Let's talk!

Peaking in the Plateau

Scott likes to call this vacation: Toronto in Montreal. I'm disinclined, as the whole reason I've left Toronto is to find the otherness of Montreal. He has also been warning me, like, for years, that sleeping in a house, 2 inches from the edge of the road, in the Plateau in the summer, would be more noisy than I can handle (note my legendary noise sensitivity). Um, it was so quiet that I couldn't sleep. It was like the freakin' country.

We're situated slightly north of Mont Royal. As one approaches our residential intersection from the south, the hum of voices from the patios and restaurants with floor to ceiling windows, buzzes increasingly, like a hive. As one moves through it towards our pied a terre, it fades. There is no bass thud. Idiots aren't revving their cars nor speeding by. There is no drunken stupidity and disrespect.

What I love about Montreal is the cultural predilection to find and claim joy. This winter climate is amongst the harshest - harsher than most will encounter. It lasts, more or less, from December to May. Wandering the streets in late June, watching women with their babies in carriers and toddlers in tow (Lord, there are a lot of children in this 'hood), you can feel the vibrancy, the gift of ease. Everyone is eating ice cream. All the time.

Ain't nowhere nicer than Montreal when the weather's good:

These sidewalk gardens are ubiquitous...

One of those rare moments when my child is smiling (and I'm around)...

We're off to Jean Talon market today - not that we haven't already stocked up on the most fun of foods and wine - or to mention that we've got lunch plans at Quartier General and dinner at Salle a Manger. Friends of ours arrive today and tomorrow and we'll be having a little barbeque or two in our back garden away from home:

Yeah, it really is that nice.

A Bit of Everything...

Joyeuses fetes, and all that. I'm almost on my way home to TO from Montreal, where we spent our holidays with my parents.

For the first time, we rented a house here - on the Plateau. After countless visits to Mtl over many years, I've never actually stepped into any of the homes I've discretely ogled from the street. The place is fantastic and I only hope we can stay here again.

The fascinating fact about this home is that the people who rented it to us (whom we do not know - although I feel I understand them quite well at this point!) actually live here on a regular basis. They've simply gone on vacation too. I never thought I'd say this, but I LOVE living in someone else's house. I love to discover how they organize the kitchen in ways I'd never have considered. I love how they use their own kinds of face soap and shampoo, kinds that I've never tried - drug store brands. I love how they leave dried chili peppers in a little bowl on the wooden counter top. (Um, I love that they are crazy enough to install butcher block counters.)

I love that they trust people to come into their space and to be respectful, that their hearts are open enough to take a chance on others being in their space.

In a zillion years, I would never reciprocate in this fashion. I am 8000 times too controlling. But my mind is expanded by traveling like this and I am done with hotels, whenever possible.

Now, we've had a great time here but, let me say, if this was the first time I'd ever come to Montreal, I suspect it might have been the last. Apparently my perfect-weather-in-this-city luck ran out and Lord, what a disaster. It rained for 3 days straight, the kind of rain that trashes your 600 dollar, water-proof boots. The kind that will not remit. The kind that soaks through your umbrellas. The kind that turns a toasty winter-wonderland into a grey, dull, flat, dirty mess. Honestly, it made Toronto look good.

I'll let that statement soak in. I'm actually suggesting that Toronto - one of the Unesco sites of Utter Winter Hideousness - is actually more attractive than Montreal under similar circumstances. My mother, who will truly go anywhere, has indicated that she'll not be returning. I suspect it was the beige, tattered futon sitting on someone's unleveled balcony, dripping, that threw her over the edge, but we'll never know for sure.

Furthermore, we stayed east - in the French part of town. My parents are decidedly west-central sorts. "Real" isn't so much their scene. They prefer the muted lines of affluence.

What can you do? I'm imagining this adorable house with its wall of windows facing an utter gem of a backyard, ensconced by tatty walk-up rentals, on a warm summer night. Oh, I'm looking forward to that. Almost as much as I'm looking forward to getting the hell out of this pollution-coloured landscape.

Really, there's no pollution like the kind you understand.

Today's questions: Do you rent homes/apartments when you travel? If no, why not?? (People, you can dine at home in the evenings when you can't stand the elements...) Have you ever made a festive meal in a totally foreign kitchen? Do you love the idea of experiencing someone else's reality as a way of expanding your own? Let's talk!

Next up, I'll tell you about my fantastic winter gifts - my husband really pulled out the stops this year...

Un Coeur En Hiver

Seriously, every winter I wonder why I don't just bite the bullet and move to Montreal:

Photo from Spacing Montreal.  This scene is veritably "downtown". You can just walk up that mountain for exercise - and access to one of the most unexpected water and city vistas in the world. Plus there's hot chocolate at the top!

(And it's even better in the other seasons.)

It's Winter

Alas, winter in TO generally means dull skies and a certain amount of humidity with that cold (aka the most drab version of the season). So let's look at a Canadian city, geographically situated for dry, sun and cold - ok, and snow:

Martin New's take on Old Montreal via Spacing Montreal

Wouldn't you like to be there right now?

Montreal Moment

As soon as I have 5 minutes, I intend to tell you about my summer vacation plans, but in the meanwhile let's all content ourselves with beautiful Montreal:

Photo: Apartment Therapy (check out the post)

Photo: Spacing Montreal

I Miss Montreal

Photo courtesy of Spacing Montreal

I <3 Montreal Theme Week: Le Germain

My phone camera kind of let me down here - which is too bad because the Germain has just updated its rooms - and they are really fine.

The website, while vaguely irritating, has some lovely, professional-style photos to review.

We stayed in a deluxe room with king sized bed - which managed to be large enough for the 3 of us with room to spare. Like 200 sq. ft. to spare. I wished I'd brought my yoga kit (though I improvised, you'll be happy to know). One must, after walking up mountains all day. (And eating all night.)

The service, location and atmosphere in this place means it's money well-spent. We used to stay here years ago (but the former room design, while nice, made everything feel very small). Our regular place was all booked up so we ended up back here and, gotta say, I think it will be my new regular place (as long as they continue to offer room rate specials / reasonable $ - the regular rates can be steep).

Here's a view of the bathroom (shower) visible from the bedroom - don't worry the blinds close:

M made me promise to post a pic of the mini-bar, which she loved, though did not sample from:

I needed to show the closet, because I really like closets:

The sitting area:

The king sized bed (M got her own cot):

I <3 Montreal Theme Week: Simons Says

In addition to the jasmine perfume, I did a small amount of stealth shopping at the flagship Simons (Mansfield and Ste Catherine) - a mere hop, skip and jump from our lovely hotel.

Scott had to do a bit of work so M and I spent 20 minutes "browsing" and we managed to get a bit of stuff for each of us. This is particularly surprising, not because we had 20 minutes (plz!) but because Simons doesn't do kid's clothing. Nonetheless, my daughter managed to find a few things! As you know, M is quite a tall girl, so managed to just fit into the following:

• White wool legwarmers. Yes, I tried to get her to go for the grey but no dice.
• A stripey red and white cotton camisole (xs). We've been pinning the as-tight-as-can-be tightened straps till she gets a bit longer (or vaguely less modest). In truth, it's fine unpinned. She wears it over a t-shirt anyway!
• Asymmetric slate grey wrap sweater (xs). This is designed to tie at the waist if you're a grown up, but on her it hangs like one of those drapey sweaters we all own and love. We roll the sleeves a little and, presto, she is very avant garde chic. Note: Simons is known for its knits - bien sur, given the northern clientele it designs for.

And for me:

• A sleeveless knee-length cardigan-cum-dress/tunic thing, in dove grey. I've worn it once as a dress, belted, with boots. In the winter I see it with a variety of interesting shirts underneath or sweaters over top. Pls. stay tuned. I'm sure it will make its way into photos.
• The same freakin' cardigan I seem to buy every year - in a similar colour, what's worse. This one distinguishes itself by being ultra soft but machine washable, slightly stretchier than my other (merino and cashmere versions), a bit more vibrant blue than the standard issue and a smidgey longer. And I was freezing, out for the day, and the thing (like many objets at Simons) was incredibly well-priced at $39.00. Look, I know, it doesn't make it ok. Why didn't I ask Scott to bring me my sweater from the hotel (where he still was)? Why didn't I walk up the block and get it? Why must I buy this sweater year after year?

No really. Why?

I <3 Montreal Theme Week: Ain't No Mountain High Enough

It's was M's greatest ambition to touch the Montreal cross (visible day and night from the summit of the Mountain). Somehow, it never occurred to her that it might be a) huge and b) fenced off. But that didn't take the edge off her pleasure at seeing it:

M actually took this photo...

It was quite a production getting from Westmount (last post) to the cross. Down one mountain we'd already climbed (natch) and up another. Fortunately we had this crazy, kind of fancy meal in a cafeteria, to sustain us. There's nothing like bunny-sized dessert to keep you going.

After the cross, we witnessed this truly awesome view:



All I can say is a) it's stunning and b) it really looks just like that.

I <3 Montreal: New Religion

Kids always want what they don't have, which is why I hankered after athiest parents and my kid wants to check out church on her vacation. Enter L'Oratoire St. Joseph.

Built on the crest of Mount Royal (this century!?), the basilica is one of the grandest I've ever been in. And I've seen every church going in Western Europe. Just read online that the dome is the 3rd largest in all the world.

Legendary healer priest, Father Andre, seems to have been the premier fundraiser of the 20th century. He started with a tiny chapel and, after restoring thousands of sick believers to health (in the name of God, of course), he had the means to build with opulence of the sort that I only associate with Catholicsm.

We had to line up for a view of Father Andre's preserved heart in a fancy jar, something that both horrified and thrilled M. We had to wait for her to look at it 4 times... She also lit a candle in the special candle hall in memory of our dog, who died when she was three.

After a while, we left the church for my kind of religious experience - a trip along the summit of the Mountain in what I consider to be the world's best neighbourhood - Westmount. Every Canadian playah has a home here. Some manses are ludicrously close to the road (like peer in the windows close. Don't judge, you'd do it too...). Others are decked out in so many security systems you'd think the President lived there. Actually, most ex-Prime Ministers do live there.

This hood comes with the kind of view I lust over. I am mystified by its complicated-meets-utterly-simple beauty. Really, more than any cathedral, it is proof of the existence of God. (Note - more shots of the view to follow in another post...)

The Church:

Lovely view of the parking lot (and us, and the seminary behind us).

The centre staircase is for worshippers, who pray on their knees at each step.

Someday, this kid's going to look back and wished she'd occasionally combed her hair. Good thing she's cute anyway.

Yes, it really looks like this - in every freakin' direction!

These peeps are going for the Casa Loma look.

Look, rich people - they have kids who play basketball in the driveway! They're just like us!

I <3 Montreal Theme Week: A Walk on The Plateau

Just north of downtown, and east of the Mountain is an area known as the Plateau. The eastern side of it is predominantly French, the western part (moving towards the Mountain) historically anglo or bilingual Jewish. It's a fabulous merging of lively, old-world cultures - and new urban sensibilities - which, for decades, has led to innovation in music, art, literature, fashion and food. Mordecai Richler was from this area, as is Michel Tremblay. Both novelists, one anglo and Jewish, the other French and Catholic, have written uniquely and from their own cultural perspectives about, effectively, the same square mile. I can't say how much I love that.

When you walk along St. Laurent, a main thoroughfare actually known as "The Main", English and French cohere seamlessly. People move from language to language, from deli (some of the best in the world - some say better than in New York, gasp!) to bistro, from the underground to the mainstream. It's got a kind of energy I've rarely experienced anywhere else. And when you add in Quebec's distinct brand of ice-cold-freezing-scary winter, it gets somehow even more lively. It's like Montrealers, born or bred, are wired to enjoy every layer of human existence. When you visit Montreal, you fall into the mix.

We went to L'Express for dinner on a Saturday evening. It's institutional bistro (for want of a better way of putting it), always packed. There's no sign out front (though I seem to remember there is an inlay in the cement saying "L'Express"). I guess you either know it's there or you don't.

Before we ate, we took a little walk...

Everywhere you go, you will see people eating on tiny balconies. They take the weather while it's good here.

Being a row-house resident, I am always partial to a street like this...

Et voila, L'Express!

Cool lamp I liked at a design shop up the block.

I <3 Montreal Theme Week: Atwater Market Afternoon

Atwater Market is located beside the Lachine Canal in Southwest Montreal. For years I've been hearing about it yet I've never managed to get my ass over there. My loss!

We walked there from our hotel on Mansfield. It took about 45 minutes and the day was one of the most beautiful I've ever seen. Late summer in the northeast produces a incomparable quality of daytime light, in my opinion. Maybe it's the angle of the sun? I don't know that the photos capture it but they will have to tell the tale.

The walk down Atwater towards the market:

You can see the market building from the train when you're coming into Mtl:

You can also see the Canal...

This shot looks from the Canal back towards the market and Atwater - you can't really see it but the Mountain is ahead.


Now for the food!








We ate liberally from numerous stalls scarfing food as quickly it was handed to us. While I didn't get any good shots of the flower stands, they were incredibly numerous for a northern market and the product was unbelievably fresh and beautiful. What struck me most, other than the tremendous quality of everything, was the abundance of flowers.