Kitchen Garden Journal

I am just back from a weekend trip to Montreal. Being in that city this time was a badly needed shot of French culture right into the arm. Tempered in good measure by a dose of Canadian friendliness and lack of pretension, my visit was inspiring on many levels.

Going to Montreal is like a geographical slap in the face. That there is a whole metropolitan culture beyond the desolation of northern New York never ceases to amaze me. And even though I am way more Canada-literate than most Americans, being there reminds me of the severity our collective Canada-denial. Case in point: when I think of Northeast cities, I think Boston, New York, Philly, DC. It never even occurs to me to look up. But Montreal is truly one of the great Northeastern cities, and so close.

And it’s now official: I need to go there more than once every three or four years.

I need to be in a place where you can count on good baguettes: not just one or two places, but ALL of them. Can you imagine if bakeries in the US just happened to stock four kinds of paté? People would laugh. Then the place would go under. It’s just nice to be in a place where French things are French and don’t also have to reflect American trends and tastes (or lack thereof). French food in the US unfortunately has that in common with Chinese food.

As you can tell, I carry around way too much snobbery and bitterness. And in Montreal, I witnessed a culture of warmth and openness that somehow doesn’t sacrifice coolness or good taste. Strangers are assumed to be sympathetic. I can’t but think if I lived there I would be a better person.

My trip to Montreal was truly inspiring. Most of all, it seems to have inspired a bad case of city envy and fantasies of relocation. If anyone knows the lowdown on emigration, please let me know.