April showers

and food highlights from a Montreal birthday weekend

To everyone new here, welcome. I’m Elizabeth, the writer of The Delicious Bits Dispatch, a weekly missive for the curious, blending discovery, reflection, and musings, always wrapped up with a seasonal recipe worth lingering over.

We April babies know the travails of navigating capricious weather.

April is a month of all feast or famine, some of that being perilous to more than just our mood. Days of blindingly welcome sun make the growing things snap to attention, only to be nipped in the bud by a late-to-the-party frost. The regret of putting seedlings out or planting prematurely. And the rain, the interminable rain.

Those persistent grey skies burrow deep into our psyches. In the downpour, we can get lost in the dreary thoughts that come floating to the surface of our minds. When everything’s wet, it can take a long time to get dry.

That’s when we need rainy day people.

Rainy day people always seem to know when it’s time to call
Rainy day people don’t talk, they just listen till they’ve heard it all
Rainy day lovers don’t lie when they tell ‘ya they’ve been down like you
Rainy day people don’t mind if you’re cryin’ a tear or two

—Rainy Day People, Gordon Lightfoot

There’s a certain kind of friend that always knows what to do. Rain or shine, they’re the reliable ones, the ones you can call for anything at all.

Yet with their dependability, rainy day friends sometimes get forgotten when it’s sunny weather. When you’re flying high, their subtle and sure friendship can get overshadowed by the dazzling light of your busy social scene. It’s in the slump, the gathering dark storm clouds, that rainy day people shine.

Our rainy day friends don’t need our energy to fuel their spirits. They’re comfortable illuminating and reflecting our light back, letting us bask in the warmth they exude. The quiet certitude of rainy day people is as sure and true as a steady rain pattering on our gardens, feeding and nurturing the deep roots beneath.

And so I’ve learned to love the rain, and never more than when I can sit in a sheltered spot, surrounded by greenery, hearing the drip drip of the drops on my terrace umbrella, watch the rivulets wind down the tender plants, trace the watercolour grey in the sky.

In the stillness of those moments, I tend to my own rainy day nature, with the same nourishment and gentle care I get from my rainy day friends. And, as my friend Lisa McLean pointed out, to remind myself to shine a light back on those steadfast and true companions. Because as any gardener knows, it’s not the cloudburst that keeps the earth growing; it’s the sure steady rain that slowly, carefully seeps far down to the roots below.

When the rain comes down, listen closely. The laughter you hear is all the good things growing.

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night—
And I love the rain.

— Langston Hughes, “April Rain Song,” The Brownies’ Book

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Scenes from a birthday weekend

The days leading up to my birthday yesterday were anything but sunny. Temperatures dipped and swung like a runaway kite, Tuesday brought snow, and by week’s end the sodden sky seemed determined to empty a season’s worth of rain.

The combination of pelting rain and a one hurtling 18-wheeler after another whizzing by made our six-hour drive to Montreal on Friday pretty miserable. But as we drove into the city the rain stopped, the sky loosening its grip at last. With hand on heart, Mr. Cohen welcomed us to his city and all was right with the world.

Montreal’s vibe is both European and modern, a city whose mother tongue is French but whose culture has a world beat. One-way streets, incredible museums, excellent restaurants at every turn, cobblestones and cathedrals and cafes with really good coffee…Montreal is a city in which to walk, to explore and most of all to dine.

And dine we did.

Consider this a highly selective, far-from-exhaustive list of places to eat the next time you find yourself there. We zeroed in on the Griffintown/Little Burgundy stretch of Notre Dame West for many of our meals, but don’t miss my Old Montreal favourite and Saint-Henri’s hottest breakfast spot.

Note: While the quality of the food and service is top notch at all these places, none are “fine dining” white tablecloth kind of places. Above all else, the focus of the service and hospitality is to ensure that guests are comfortable and having a really great experience.

Seasonality rules most menus, so while I’ve offered up reccos on what we enjoyed this weekend, items often change to reflect what the local framers have on offer.

Breakfast/Lunch

1. Arthur’s Nosh Bar, Jewish classics served with a twist and a lot of family pride. No-reservations breakfast-only hot spot that closes early in what is otherwise a quiet stretch of Saint-Henri.

   Pro tips: if you’re in Montreal for a four day weekend, go to Arthur’s on Monday to beat the weekend brunch crowd. Whenever you go, ask about half portions so you can try a variety of things.

   Don’t miss: Salmon gravlax; syrniki (cottage cheese pancakes); citrus tahini crunch; chocolate babka

2. Barley, a Middle-Eastern inspired breakfast place in Little Burgundy.

   Pro tips: Barley is a great option for either breakfast or lunch; they also close mid-afternoon. Barley takes reservations but we were seated immediately without one. Don’t be tempted by the very long lines down the street at September; Barley’s menu is way more interesting than the pancakes September is famous for.

   Don’t miss: Avocado toast that is all about the avocado, plus some zhoug for good measure; fatteh—a fabulous one dish bowl that combines toasted pita chips, eggplant, chickpeas, labneh, chili, pickled red onions and pomegranate arils. Barley also has killer coffee.

Dinner

1. Vin Papillon, a cosy neighbourhood wine bar and restaurant in Little Burgundy from chef Marc-Olivier Frappier, with a vegetable-forward seasonal menu. This is the place that other chefs go and relax when they want excellent food, great service and a stellar, unusual wine list.

   Pro tip: Like many popular spots, Vin Papillon only reserves one month out. Mark your calendar and opt to sit at the bar. The restaurant also has adorable booths built just for two so request one for a chummy date with your beau.

   Don’t miss: Cabbage is having a moment and every place we dined had a unique take on this most versatile veg. Razor clams were spectacular, calamari and beef skewers exceptional and charred broccolini special a highlight. We were so hungry that we acted like normal diners and didn’t take any photos.

2. Garde Manger, opened in 2006 by chef Chuck Hughes, delivers a high-energy, seafood-forward experience in Old Montreal—think oysters, seafood towers, and a dining room that gets louder as the night goes on. It’s as much about the atmosphere as the food. This is a must visit for us every time we’re in Montreal, and while the crowd leans heavily towards visitors as opposed to locals, the staff make you feel like they saw you just last week.

   Pro tip: The same one month out deal here. Mark your calendar and be ready to have FUN with the staff. Jian, who served us on Saturday when we sat at the bar, was bartender/eagle eye/server and co-conspirator with David, the front of house manager, keeping the vibe lively. You may just down a shot or two in comradeship with this hospitable bunch.

   Don’t miss: Seafood is the star, and seasons matter here. Snow crab, white asparagus, rhubarb were all offer and we opted for a number of appetizers, rounded out by fois gras. Cabbage showed up here too and a refreshing chicory salad was the right balance for all the richness.

3. Foxy rounds out the list, and is another Little Burgundy gem, and true neighbourhood spot. After visiting a cabane au sucre for lunch (more on that in a future post!), we wanted our last meal to be a shareable and delicious lighter bite. Like many of Montreal’s best, there is a very marked focus on the seasons, on vegetables and plants and making what’s at the market the star. The menu proudly features a deep list of all of the local producers and farmers that Foxy sources from.

   Pro tip: Foxy is a casual place; there was a multi-generational table celebrating a family birthday, three girlfriends having dinner, couples like us hanging out. You’ll fit right in with jeans or whatever makes you feel at home.

   Don’t miss: Cabbage again! This time with a delicate made-in-house jambon blanc (white ham). The carrots were on a bed of mixed herb and carrot top sauce, and scattered with toasted quinoa, cardamom and sesame. Our shared sweet potato gnocchi with rabbit were delicately delicious.

Let me know if you’re heading to Montreal! There’s so much to discover and I’d love to share more of my favourites with you 💕