Like Vienna's Wiener Schnitzel and Naples' pizza, Montreal boasts her own gastronomic stereotypes: poutine, smoked meat, bagels, and, more recently, pig-centric cuisine (see Au Pied De Cochon). While indeed they are delicious (and naughtily not nutritious), after dozens of family trips to the City Of Stars, I was eager to venture beyond the culinary cliché. My newfound friend and native Montrealer, David, guided me on this edible expedition. Luckily, he led me to Tuck Shop.Read More
I have my father to thank for many things--my smarts, my indefatigable work ethic, the simple pleasure of napping in the sun--yet there are two which are particularly poignant this Father's Day.
1. My enormous appetite, which is more akin to that of a sumo wrestler than a ballet dancer. Thankfully, I'm blessed with my mother's speedy metabolism, so can chow down without dire, physical consequences.
2. My amour for all things French.Read More
3 days. That's how much time passed between my first and second visit to Red Hill. Normally, if I enjoy my inaugural dining experience, I vow to come back soon, but then get distracted by new openings, random cravings, and my ever-growing list of Places I Want To Try. It can take months to return. Not so at Red Hill, the 4-month young Echo Park restaurant, where my first time was such a charm, I was lured back immediately.