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!!