bee mint

and I meant to say bee on my mint plant - my menthe de pomme, to be specific, which smells way better than any other menthe I've had. On my balcony...

Élixir

from the moment factory, a multimedia exhibition of lights, music and water fountains in Quartier des Spectacles... Amazing...

Raspberries

Raspberry season again... yep and gonna make that amazing Framboise Soufle I did last year... This time I didn't go crazy, well at least not as crazy as last time, as I did go crazy with the strawberries this year. These perfect raspberries, not too sour, from Ville de Saint-Eustache, a little north of Montreal.

LGBT Parade

It's that time of the year again... And faithfully I made it again this year... Not only because I get to see really cute, very kind-looking guys (every girl's dream, of course, only to be shattered in the knowledge that they are gay), but also because in general this parade alone makes me that much more open minded than the last year. It is not just seeing Stéphane Dion and Gilles Duceppe, but it's also about seeing the Jewish float, the Palestinian float, the bisexual parents and mostly seeing the spectators - a lot of straight couples do come to see this parade - I think I mentioned the East Asian couple among the 2008 parade spectators. I think it is really nice to see all those open minded people around me. Actually it stimulates my mind so I don't just go home and "se tourner les pouces" while watching mont Saint-Hilaire!!!

And then we went to Chipotle @ Jalapeno, where the food was nice and super cheap as long as you don't order the Mexican wine, La Cetto (Sirah 2007 from Valle De Guadalupe) which was really good, but a lot expensive. We had chicken tamales and chicken empanadas both which were really good. We also had a tortilla soup which I wasn't too hot on - I did like the broth and the crunchy tortillas, but the pork bits, I could have done without.

Speaking of really cute very kind guys being every girls' dream, I couldn't help but think 'isn't that every human being's dream, really?' and then I proceeded to think that gay men are actually the luckiest, as they get to pick from a pool of such people (trust me, such people are far and few between in the straight world, and that applies to straight boys and well girls, well I don't think they are very nice - don't forget I went to an all girls' school). This all reminded me of one of my all time favourite authors David Sedaris; he talks about his boyfriend Hugh, in his 'Dress your family in corduroy and denim':

On a summer evening in Paris, Hugh and I went to see 'The End of the Affair', a Neil Jordan adaptation of the Graham Greene novel. I had trouble keeping my eyes open because I was tired and not completely engaged, Hugh had trouble keeping his eyes open because they were essentially swollen shut: he sobbed from beginning to end, and by the time we left the theater, he was completely dehydrated, I asked if he always cried during comedies, and he accused me of being grossly insensitive, a charge I'm trying to plea-bargain down to simply obnoxious.

The picture ended at about ten and afterward we went for coffee at a little place across the street from the Luxembourg Gardens, I was ready to wipe the movie out of my mind but Hugh was still under its spell. He looked as though his life had not only passed him by but paused along the way to spit in his face. Our coffee arrived, and as he blew his nose into a napkin, I encouraged him to look on the bright side. "Listen", I said, we maybe don't live in wartime London but in terms of the occasional bomb scare, Paris is a pretty close second. We both love bacon and country music, what more could you possibly want?"

What more could he want? It was an incredibly stupid question and when he failed to answer, I was reminded of just how lucky I truly am. Movie characters might chase each other through the fog or race down the stairs of burning buildings, but that's for beginners. Real love amounts to withholding the truth even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings. I wanted to say something to this effect, but my hand puppets were back home in their drawers. Instead, I pulled my chair a few inches close, and we sat silently at our little table on the square, looking for all the world like two people in love.

- David Sedaris, in Dress your family in corduroy and denim.

See I told you - even when they are insensitive they are still so poignant!

Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue

So, I am that person who will try and never venture into the suburbs, and if I do, I roll up my windows and lie low, I don't want all the hill billies after me... The city is where my heart is, but I think I will enjoy living in totally rural, the likes of Îles-de-la-Madeleine or Nunavut, but suburbs to me is that limbo, stuck in between, people afraid to live, people afraid to die, people just afraid of everything...

So when I make up my mind to go into a suburb for a farmers' market, well... as I later learnt, that's a mistake. So I have been following this foodie's blog lately and I thought she was good, and she had some 'what I can find in the farmers' market of Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue that I can't find in Marche Jean Talon' and then I read somewhere they are having a garlic festival this Saturday... So, off I go, with a reluctant friend in tow... and what did we find? Well... we... found... nothing... nope, not even the garlic fest! Ok, so the people were not ethnophobic like suburbanites are in general; they were in fact super nice and the tiny market of like 10 stalls was very helpful and friendly too. But I am used to Marche Jean Talon (I'll make a post of it one of these days before summer ends) and sometimes feel a little discontent even at Marche Atwater, which already has like 20 big vendors. So I was not impressed.

But we did comb the city and found this cool little resto for breakfast - Herbs (142 Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue) which was quite eclectic. They advertise themselves as 1980's San Fran cuisine, which I didn't know until just now as I looked them up, what more can you say about hippie? The teeny weeny kitchen was where the mama cooked and the nice teenage son and daughter served in the 10 table wood-floored patio in the back on the shores of Lac Saint-Louis. San Fran alright! We had antipasto sandwiches on soft fresh bread with an amazing pasta side with a nice vinaigrette and cracked pepper (I just love the bite of cracked pepper) and a black bean burrito also equally impressive with its grilled cheese top.

And then we went to this lock marina and watched some buffed men and women cross the locks in their shi shi boats. There were a couple boats that were ridiculously big, and every boat, sans a few, had what you expect boaters to look like - cocky red necks showing off their almost artificially toned bodies. I really really didn't like watching them, but was curious about the locks. Locks always fascinate me; I just can not wrap my head around the idea that some metal gates can hold such a lot of water in place like that - heck I have a hard time blocking the water in my sink when I want to do the dishes. But I couldn't quite figure out the purpose of these locks, as the water seemed the same level on both sides of the gate, always.

Anyway, we managed to get home before we became delirious... and I rushed to marche Jean Talon, just to get over the shock...

Moral of the story - do not go to Ste-Anne-de-Bellavue, ever... if you don't heed my advice and wind up there anyway, seek refuge at Herbs, immediately!!

Café Ceramic

It is this part cafe part cermaic place that you can go into, pick your own unpainted ceramic plate, mug, figurine, whatever, and paint it however you like to. There are these basic guidelines you can follow, and some stencils if you want and also some advanced guidelines for the artsy in you.

My gift to the recently graduated friend. That we did it on Friday the thirteenth, another story...

While we were there, I also got myself this cutest frog-salt-pig to put my amazing sel de mer du Atlantique in. Yes, there really is a difference in taste between sea salt and your Morton iodized salt. The frog turned out to be quite nice... I am sooo very proud of myself... now maybe I can kiss him at night and he will turn into a prince charming!

Nanook Of the North

So I talked in person to Gabriel Thibaudeau (of Metropolis fame, from by blog entry on that, for the uncultured amongst you *wink*)!!!

My fascination with the Innuit people and the first nation people in general continue. They screened Nanook of the North, a 1922 film by Robert J. Flaherty, documenting the life of Inuk Nanook and his family. For all you film nerds, it is considered the first ever feature length documentary. As a silent movie then, it has to be accompanied by a soundtrack, preferrably live. And like Metropolis, it was Gabriel Thibaudeau and an 8 piece orchestra, with two Innuit throat singers. The synchronization was not as perfect as in Metropolis, but the whole thing was a little shaky when one of the Iroquois throat singers showed up late, due to traffic!!!!

So when they killed a big seal in the starving winter months, and then they all started devouring it, raw, I thought, 'hmmm... can I do that if I go and live there with them?' after some back and forth I decided yes I can, of course I'll get sick a couple times, but yes, I can... it is like sushi... ok sushi with blood dripping... but I do love sushi so... But I figured, what I won't be able to do is, go stay in the igloo during a heavy snow storm and leave them huskies, them huskies that trasported us all around outside the igloo, with snow blowing in their faces, howling... No, I will probably not be able to do that.... And I will want to take them in, and everyone will look at me like I was some snobbish city person, which maybe I am...

At the end of the movie, this hippie walks to me and starts conversation about my photos and all, he says he knows the organizer and may he present me to him.... yeah right hippie... but it turned out he did know the organizer, I tell you those hippies... so I met some First Nation people, and I kept asking everyone where they were from and they were at most 300-500miles away from Montreal, not one from Nunavut..... after sometime I restrained myself from throwing myself at these people and begging them to take me to live there with them for like 3-6 months and see polar bears....

So through this hippie then I got to meet Gabriel Thibaudeau. Ok so it wasn't like MJ walking the crowds, even though for me it was like that - so he was pretty approachable. And when I met him, I didn't know what to say or ask - I just managed to tell him that I also saw Metropolis - he was impressed and he went on to tell me about how Metropolis was a hard project for him, as it was 2.5hrs and all... Anyway, it was really a cool experience - I can only feel bad about them suburbanites who don't get to experience all this richness....