I have been a mega fan of David Beale’s work (and his rad blog!) for a long time. But I’ve never bought any of his pieces because he makes mostly rings, and I hate wearing rings. (Also super impractical for a baker). But now that he’s making the Sunrise style in a beautiful gold bangle, I could see myself buying this piece… oh it’s so amazing!

[via The Golden Smith]

Man.

All of this super-rich Montreal en Lumiere food means that I am NOT hungry during the day, not even a little bit. It is crazy what this festival-blogging gig has done to my appetite and metabolism.

Normally this soup (homemade chicken stock + shredded chicken + black bean + butternut squash + pearl barley + dab of harissa + sprigs of fennel) would happily worm its way into my lunch plans (this photo was from last week). But these days I look at my fridge during the day and nearly gag. Appetite just doesn’t come until dinnertime — which usually means five-six courses of decadence.

Blogging for the Montreal Gazette has been a fascinating experience. My palate is undergoing some serious calisthenics, and though I’m not fatigued yet, I suspect I will feel differently by the week’s end. We’ll see. For now, I’m loving every second. The soup can wait.

One of my classiest outfits still renders me the most casually dressed person at last night’s Montreal en Lumiere dinner. Ah, Montreal. How you consistently out-fancy me.

The night of Sound + Season, Sasha made a huge bowl of couscous, which she fluffed with her fingers. The couscous was studded with plump currants, orange zest, orange blossom water, shaved almonds, and chopped black olives cured in oil. It was delicious. I’m weirdly terrible at making couscous, it always clumps together and gets sticky. Hers was perfect, so light and fluffy and dry.

Just a quick announcement to say that I have been blogging the Montréal en Lumière festival for the Montreal Gazette! Meeting all the Seattle chefs and Oregon state winemakers has made me miss the Pacific Northwest like something crazy. Posts thus far:

Chatting with Seattle chef Matthew Dillon

Crazy good eating with Matthew Dillon

Gala night with Seattle chef Jason Wilson and Long Shadow wines

And so many more in the pipe! Follow along here.

Since my Acquired Taste story about Sasha isn’t available online, I thought I would post some of the photos I took when I visited her last summer. I have so many, I kind of want to share them all.

It was really humid that day, the kind where staying inside is almost unbearable. Being in a hot kitchen, even worse. Typical upstate New York summer, it rained on and off all afternoon, but we took every opportunity to escape outside to her backyard for wine or to go on walks.

I love writing about my best friends. It’s happening more and more, almost emerging as a pattern, which made me realize how fascinating and talented and smart my loved ones really are. I’ve long admired Sasha’s intuitive and thoughtful cooking style, yet I had never really watched her “in action.” (Whenever I would arrive at her house for dinner parties, everything would already be ready to go!)

More photos to come….

I finally made a visit to Pikolo, a rad Pacific Northwest-style espresso bar, only to find that they sell both muffins from one of my favorite patisseries, Rhubarbe, and coffee from one of my favorite Portland roasters, Heart Coffee Roasters! It made me a little Oregon-sick, to see that bag of beans there. There are a few shops around town that sell Stumptown beans (I think Cafe Neve?), but Heart was always one of my favorite PDX coffee zones.

Now, if only some Montreal roaster could import Gimme! beans, then my rounds of homesickness would be complete.

[All photos by Vincenzo D'Alto]

I’m obsessed with Vince’s beautiful shots of the completely ridiculous yet somehow amazing Snow Village, which I included in my Burlington Free Press piece about Montreal winter activities. The compound is surprisingly beautiful — I think fantasy and fairy tale-loving 8-year-old me would have thought this was totally magical and cool. Would you eat dinner in a restaurant like this? (Which has an ambient temperature of 23 degrees F?) I would love to know.

[Photo by Vincenzo D'Alto]

I have two new stories in Vermont’s Burlington Free Press this week, including a piece about which restaurants to visit in Montreal. I had a blast working on this story — who doesn’t love compiling a good list? — and I even collaborated with one my favorite photographers in the city, Vincenzo D’Alto (he freelances for the Gazette, too, and he shot my pizza story!).

I did wonder if I should include more obscure and unusual choices for restaurants, ones not necessarily known to the traveling public and tourists.

(The restaurants that would have made this list? La Salle À Manger, Nora Gray, Le Chien Fumant, SAT’s Foodlab, Pho Hay To, Jane, La Carreta, Bottega, Chez Apo, Le Petit Alep, Restaurant XO, Abu Elias, Cheskies, Europea, oh I could go on and on… and the story didn’t get into where I like to buy wine, tea, coffee, and groceries. Man.)

But I wanted to go with my personal favorites, the classics, restaurants that have yet to let me down, the restaurants that have always made me happy and full.

I have a second story, if you’re curious, about winter activities in the city. I secretly wrote this in the hopes that it just might compel friends who live nearby (you know who you are) to make a visit to the Great White North — I’m telling you, it’s a surprisingly fun place in the winter!(I even include a roast beef and hockey dinner date at Magnan. Come on. What could get more Quebecois than that? Read the full story here.

I stopped by the market to pick up my weekly dose of Peewee-sized eggs from the Captain, and noticed for the first time that he also sells bags of dried beans. I lifted a sack of the hefty Cannellinis, and an old man the next stall over leaned over and said to me, “Don’t get those, get these,” and pointed to a bag of diminutive, wrinkled white beans. “These are the ones we eat everyday. These are the beans you need.” So I bought them instead, and stewed them with a big pot of dinosaur kale, shallots, butter and harissa. He was right, they were better. Tiny and tender, just the enough pop of bean-ness.

And yay, this new baseball jacket (that I bought from Suzanne!) has happily planted itself into my wardrobe. It feels so much nicer to inherit clothing from women I actually know, not just faceless sellers from eBay or thrift stores. I like wearing this jacket and knowing that it has this history, that it came from someone truly rad. Thank you Suzanne!