France 2017

We recently spent a week in France. Well, mostly — we spent five days in Paris, and took a few side trips to Reims in Champagne and Liège in Belgium. Usually what happens when I get back from a big trip is I write a quick, factual summary of what happened — where we went, what we ate, things we saw, etc. This time I wanted to do something a little different, so: here’s everything we did, ranked.

Top (All) 5 Hotels

  1. Les Crayères (Reims) can barely even be described as a hotel. It’s a chateau, an estate, a getaway, an experience, a splurge. It’s class and luxury, top to bottom. With rooms.
  2. Le Grand Pigalle (Paris 9e) was a pleasant surprise — a cool, fun hotel in the neon chaos that is Pigalle.
  3. Hotel Caron (Paris 4e) was a win because of its simplicity: no restaurants, no grand lobby, no frills…just a nice Parisian hotel room, a friendly front-desk employee, and a great location.
  4. Hotel Mademoiselle (Paris 10e) was a stopover as we transitioned from the Gare du Nord to the Gare de l’Est. Big room, but weird style. Cute breakfast area though.
  5. The Street Lodge (Liège) was one we picked because of proximity to Liege’s train station, and island park. Not terribly fancy or stylish, but functional and roomy.
The view from our first Paris hotel

Top 5 Breakfasts

  1. Les Crayères wasn’t just the best breakfast of the trip. It might have been the best breakfast I’ve ever had, and it was basically a continental breakfast. No meat, no eggs, no veg. Just pastries, yogurts, honeys, jams, fancy nutella, fruit, cheese, juice, and coffee, but all of it absolutely outstanding. All in a gorgeous room which houses their Michelin-starred restaurant. Will probably be on my top meals of the year. Oh, and we’re like 65% sure Jeff Bezos was there.
  2. The Street Lodge Liège BnB breakfast was a surprise. Our host Sabine made wonderful eggs to go with the usual French breakfast (ham, fruit, pastries, jams, etc.)
  3. La Terrasse Saint Catherine was a lucky find. We were up early and stumbled in since it was near our hotel, and fell into a simple but delicious breakfast: I had scrambled eggs with bacon inside the eggs; Lindsay had a meat & cheese plate and a croissant. It was simple, but perfect. The fact we were a little hungover probably had something to do with how delicious we found it.
  4. La Grand Pigalle was our first real French breakfast: fruit, yogurt, pastries, etc. Excellent coffee drinks, but marked down for the truffled ham. Ugh.
  5. Hotel Mademoiselle had a cute spot in which to eat breakfast, but it wasn’t really noteworthy.
Le Parc, where we ate breakfast at Les Crayères

Top 5 Lunches

  1. Les Enfants Perdus came up in a quick Google search during our train ride back from Liège, and it turned out a champ. We shared an outstanding burrata, and had dorado (Dan) and toulouse sausage (Lindsay) for mains (paired with a terrific bottle of Burgundy). I had a trio — vanilla, pistachio, and praline — of crème brûlée (Dan) for dessert, but for the life of me can’t remember what Lindsay had.
  2. Mamagoto happened to be right next door to Hotel Mademoiselle, otherwise we’d have never known about it. I forgot to write down what we ate, but it was Japanese/French fusion, so…yeah. Top stuff.
  3. Le Relais Gascon was a place in the 18e recommended by our friend Genna for their giant salads. I had the salade du béarnais; Lindsay had the salade roquefort. We drank a bottle of rosé, chatted with the couple next to us who turned out to also be from Toronto, and almost got a sunburn. In October.
  4. Tavern Aigle d’Or was the most promising beer place in Liège, and we spent a whole afternoon there. First we stuffed ourselves stupid on boulets (giant fried balls of seasons pork + beef) and then drank bottles of La Trappe, Rodenbach Grand Cru, Rulle Brun, and Cuvée De Ranke. It wasn’t always easy either — this was the only place we encountered where they spoke zero English.
  5. Les BS Bistro & KB Coffee Roasters were our first stops after getting off the plane. Nothing terribly remarkable on the bistro front — just a simple brunch — but my espresso from KB was pretty tasty. And much-needed.
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Our first meal in Paris

Top 5 Dinners

  1. Buvette was the first dinner we ate in France, and I remember telling Lindsay that I wasn’t sure we’d beat it during the whole week. It wasn’t recommended; it just happened to be around the corner from our first hotel. It was a tiny place, and dimly lit, and so full we had to sit at the bar — classic Paris, in other words. And the food was stellar: chevre covered in honey and hazelnuts, beets covered in crème fraîche, a huge pile of smoked trout and lentils, steak tartare, a lovely bottle of cab franc, and a piece of brillat-savarin cheese with a glass of Graves. Incroyable.
  2. Le Jardin Brasserie was the second, non-Michelin starred restaurant at Les Crayères, but it was still spectacular. We shared a bottle of Champagne from a small local producer to go with our starters (lobster salad, a “cappuccino” of Ardennes mushrooms + ham), and with our mains (lamb and veal) we took a bottle of Bordeaux. We had a quick cheese course, then two desserts: a hazelnut “island” floating in custard, and some kind of compote if memory serves. Actually, I guess we had three desserts: our server gave us an unexpected crème brûlée! I’m not sure how we made it back up the hill to the main building.
  3. Our most anticipated dinner was Friday night, at a place in Saint Germain called Le Germain. It was another recommendation from Genna, who’d earned our trust thus far by recommending Le Relais Gascon and the baguette at Le Grenier A Pain and for, you know, being a Paris-trained pastry chef. Anyway, we got there, and we knew right away something was up. It just felt…weird in there. Like, clubby. I mean, it turns into a full-on club at 11pm, but even at 8pm it felt off. The service was poor. The apps were poor. There was none of the life-changing butter we were told lived there. We really didn’t want to stay, so we resolved to leave after the apps and find a new restaurant. I pulled up my old Paris custom map and realized one of my very favourite restaurants from my visit 8 years ago — Fish La Boissonnerie — was just seconds away. We loved it there immediately — so much more the vibe we were looking for than Le Germain. We shared this amazing soup; I had a delicious bit of pork, while Lindsay had pasta, and we shared a killer bottle of Burgundy. So glad we bailed out.
  4. We weren’t sure what to do for our last meal in Paris until the last moment, when we opted to visit the Palais de Tokyo at 10pm on Saturday. We ate a quick but impressive dinner at the bar at Les Grandes Verres: coquilles St-Jacques, a shared dish where you made pork belly tacos out of pancakes, and cocktails. If we’d been in less of a rush I would have raided the wine list, where they had several people curate personalized lists & pages.
  5. Since we have their poster on our wall, I suggested we have a late dinner at Willi’s Wine Bar after visiting the Louvre. We shared prawns and both got the steak frites, and drank a shockingly good bottle of Pomerol.

Honourable mention: L’Antidote in Liège.

Top 5 Bottles of Wine

  1. Chateau Bellegrave 2008 Pomerol, at Willi’s Wine Bar. I’m not normally much of a Pomerol fan, but this went so brilliantly with our steak frites that I might just change my mind about Merlot.
  2. Leclaire-Thiefaine Sainte Apolline Champagne, at Les Crayères’ Le Jardin Brasserie. We asked for a bottle of blanc de blancs from a small producer, and this one was perfect.
  3. Simon Bize & Fils 2014 Aloxe-Corton “Le Suchot”, at Fish La Boissonerie. The staff held this one in such reverence that when a clumsy stranger knocked my mostly-empty glass off the table to be smashed on the floor, our server yelled “Oh no, Le Suchot!”
  4. Domaine Joseph Roty 2014 Gevrey-Chambertin, at Les Enfants Perdus. This might have been a rather fancy bottle for lunch, but it was our favourite lunch of the whole trip, so.
  5. Amirault St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil 2014 “Les Quarterons”, at Buvette. We asked for a versatile bottle to go with four different dishes. Luckily for me they fired this cab franc our way.

Honourable mention: the Château Toumalin Canon-Fronsac 2010 “L’Aurea” we had with our mains at Le Jardin.

Top 5 Art Experiences

  1. In my two previous visits to Paris I’d never been to the Centre Pompidou. It’s not only a stunning collection of modern and contemporary art, it’s also an intriguing building. The view from the top floor must be one of the best in Paris. But the real jewel is the collection. We spent nearly six hours there over two visits, and still only saw 1.5 floors.
  2. Similarly, I’d not been to the Musée de l’Orangerie, but it was a heavy hitter in terms of name-recognition of the artists inside. Even leaving aside Monet’s water lilies (probably the main draw) the collection downstairs — Cezanne, Picasso, Derain, Gauguin, Matisse, Modigliani, Renoir, Sisley — is something to see.
  3. One of the main reasons we were in France and Belgium was to see the work on Nicolas Schöffer, and my favourite was the cybernetic tower which still stands, more than 50 years later, in Liège. It’s beautiful on its own, but also reacts to the external environment and would even change colour when I asked it to on Twitter. We stood on the footbridge to the island in the Meuse and interacted with this tower for half an hour after dinner. It was beautiful.
  4. I’d never even heard of the Palais de Tokyo in my previous visits to Paris, but of course Lindsay knew about it. When we were there the exhibition was Days Are Dogs by Camille Henrot, which we didn’t have time to fully see, but which blew us both away.
  5. We weren’t expecting much from La Bovarie, next door to the cybernetic tower in Liège, but both the temporary Young Artists exhibition and the permanent collection were pretty great. Our plan to stroll through the gardens after was thwarted when we got trapped in a terrace outside the museum with no one to let us back in, so we had to ninja our way out of the garden by walking on top of a wall and jumping back down, but that aside, it was a solid visit.

Honourable mention: slightly new experiences at The Louvre and the Musée Rodin, and a visit to a certain special atelier.

Paris seen from the Centre Pompidou

Top 5 Ways To Get Around

  1. I’m telling you, I could take the TGV from Paris to Reims and back every day and probably not mind. 150km in 40 minutes, hitting 300 km/h along the way, was pretty sweet.
  2. It’s touristy, but I stand by the fact that the Batobus is a pretty good way to get around and see the major sites of Paris. We sailed past the Eiffel Tower, the Musée D’Orsay, Notre Dame and more, eventually jumping off at the Louvre.
  3. We must’ve taken 20 Uber trips. At this point Uber probably thinks I’ve moved to Paris.
  4. The train to Liège wasn’t quite as slick as the TGV to Reims (and the Gare du Nord is not as nice as the Gare de l’Est) but it did pass through beautiful countryside, and passed within a few kilometeres of both Beaumont-Hamel and Vimy.
  5. We only used the Paris Metro a couple of times, but we got to share a laugh with the locals about these really aggressive tourists who were literally crawling into seats before the previous occupants had even fully left them.
The Seine at sunset, seen from the Batobus

Top 5 Other Things We Saw

  1. The tour and tasting at Taittinger in Reims was, happily, a little different than my tour at Moët et Chandon years ago. It’s a less fancy house, but the caves were more impressive. There were beautiful carvings, remnants of the old basilica which stood on the site before the revolution, and even ancient Roman crayères — chalk pits from the 4th century where the Romans had extracted limestone for building. A beautiful space, and a nice tasting. We bought two bottles: the 2012 Millésimé and the Prélude Grand Crus.
  2. We didn’t expect much from it, but the whole city of Liège was a pleasant surprise. From the time we arrived to see the stunning train station, to the island park, to the walk along the Meuse river, to the old historic area, it was really a pleasant find.
  3. The Tuileries Garden. Always the Tuileries Garden.
  4. I’d never seen the Place Vendôme, the Opera, or the Montmartre Cemetery before, and we did them all (and then some) in one day.
  5. I also hadn’t really spent any time in the Place de la Concorde, and for whatever reason we walked or drove into it several times on this trip. It’s the kind of huge public square that just exemplifies Paris.
The train station in Liège

Top 5 Things I Watched On The Plane

  1. The Big Sick
  2. The first three episodes of Fargo (the TV series, not the movie, obviously)
  3. Baby Driver
  4. Zodiac (which I’ve seen a million times but will always watch because David Fincher is a damn genius)
  5. The Social Network (see above)

There were a hundred little moments not captured here, but all of which went into this being one of my all-time favourite trips. At some point Lindsay may weigh in with bonus commentary too, so stay tuned. Until then: a la prochâine, Paris.

Rips Van Winkelle

We got back yesterday from a week in France. We landed early-afternoon, got reamed by customs, took a looooong cab ride home thanks to the Scotiabank marathon, and had lunch and a few beers at Eastbound. We came home with a plan to nap for an hour or so, then get up to unpack, do laundry, eat dinner, etc.

What actually happened is that we woke up 12 hours later and went straight to work, which looks to be a maelstrom this week.

Much more to come, as soon as I can find the time. In the meantime I’ll just keep missing this sort of thing terribly:

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.:.

Cover photo from Sandaya

Rouge de Mékinac

Somehow, between drinks and dinners and work and whatever, I forgot to blog about a quick two-day trip to Montreal for work. Between meetings I managed to try a few new coffee places (Tommy, Crew Collective & Café) and a new beer bar (Pub BreWskey), and grab a whisky at a familiar old hotel (Le Place d’Armes).

From one French-speaking city to another: we’ve off to France tomorrow!

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Last Saturday Pearl Morissette hosted a 10th anniversary party for some of their wine club members. It was a perfect day, maybe the best Saturday we’ve had this summer. They poured tons of wine (and Burdock beer), auctioned special bottles & events, fed us delicious food, and let us hang out and meet one another.

We slept in a big, weird B&B. The owner brought us late-night pizza and we had an awkward breakfast conversation with the other couple staying there. We stopped for lunch at Redstone and I ate a pork chop the size of a small dog. We got food from Littlefoot Farm and cooed at their baby goats.

It was a pretty special event. It made all the brutal traffic on the way down here, and the way back, worth it. Thanks P-M.

 

 

 

 

The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything

Today was my birthday. My 42nd birthday, as it happens. It was a crazy weekend, though my birthday had little to do with that.

First up was a visit by brother #2 on Thursday. We met after work at the Keg near his hotel, and ate some piles of meat. After that Lindsay and I retired to Chez Nous where Laura poured us some off-menu treats.

On Friday, we were off to nearby Project Gallery Studios for an opening, after which we hung out with a couple of the artists and their friends at Aft until the wee hours.

Saturday morning we dragged ourselves out of bed, loaded up on breakfast and snacks at Bonjour Brioche, then drove north to the Hockley Valley Resort for a wedding. We got there in enough time to eat lunch at the wine bar and change for the wedding. The meal was excellent, and very long, and then the party started. We lasted until about midnight, then retired to our room.

When we arrived I discovered a surprise: Lindsay had gifts and balloons(!) waiting for me: a Secrid wallet, October by China Miéville, and a promise to go see Dunkirk next weekend. Whatta girl.

After some much-needed breakfast this morning we stopped at Adamo Estate winery (which is owned by the same people as the resort) to pick up a few wines we’d tried at the resort, then enjoyed the pretty ride home. The rest of Sunday was relaxing, eating, and watching GoT.

Return to the County

We spent Saturday and Sunday in Prince Edward County. I kept telling people I hadn’t been there in two years. I was wrong — it’s been three years. No wonder it felt like such a different place.

We left Saturday morning, arriving in Hillier around lunchtime. I reckoned our first stop should be wood oven pizza at Norm Hardie’s, but that plan blew up when the line of cars extended so far down the driveway we knew we wouldn’t get a table. We didn’t even stop, just did a U-turn and came up with a plan B.

Since we were right there we tootled down the road to Rosehall Run. I’ve had both good and bad experiences with that winery, so I wasn’t sure which we’d get. Turns out it was the latter. The tasting room was slammed. It was tough to get someone to pour for us, and when they did they handed us plastic patio glasses. You know, the ones with the thumb groove. We mentioned that to a few other wineries, who reacted with horror. We didn’t like much of what we tried, but did leave with a 2014 JCR Pinot Noir.

I figured we might as well start the journey down Closson Road, and we started at Hinterland. I warned Lindsay that there are often one or more woohoo-y bachelorette parties at Hinterland; sure enough, one was occupying half the tasting bar when we got there. The other half was subsumed by picture-taking tourists. This was not the county I remembered. This was not the peaceful experience I’d described to Lindsay over the summer. We contemplated leaving, but then managed to squeak into one corner so Lindsay could try the sparkling. She already knew she liked the Whitecap; she bought a 2013 Blanc de Blancs to take away. Suddenly, the tasting room emptied (after the bride forcibly extracted her future bridesmaid Caitlin/Caitlyn/Catelyn/Kaitlyn/Katelyn from the bar so they could continue their reign of terror) and the County was peaceful again.

We decided to eat lunch at the County Road brewery/restaurant next door, which wasn’t even there in 2014, but was now packed to the gills. We shared tomatoes with sourdough and local mozzarella, and beer bratwurst with pickles, and Lindsay tried a few beer samples. While there we met up with our friend Duarte, who lives in the County now, bought some beer, and followed him to our next winery: The Grange of Prince Edward.

I’d been to The Grange before and hadn’t been impressed, but either their wine has improved or my palette has, because a few months ago we shared a bottle of their Estate Cab Franc and loved it. Duarte gave us the grand tour and we tasted through their wines; we eventually left with three bottles of the 2013 Estate Cabernet Franc, two of the 2012 Brut Rosé, a 2013 Estate Chardonnay, and a magnum (!) of the 2014 Pinot Noir / Gamay. The tasting room was mad — we were definitely getting the stinkeye from others who weren’t receiving the same personal attention, and there were no fewer than three bachelorette parties present — but it was a wonderful stop.

We drove down Closson with the intention of stopping at Closson Chase, but the swarm of cars out front warned us off. Instead we drove a little further to the peace and quiet (and delicious Pinot) of The Old Third. We chatted, reveled in the beautiful (and calm!) barn, and bought a bottle of their 2015 vintage. We were finally finding our County groove.

Our last winery of the day was one I’d never heard of until a few weeks ago (hot tip from Laura at Chez Nous Wine Bar) called Domaine Darius. The grounds look like a hobbit’s garden, while the tasting room, a small underground cave, does nothing to dissuade you from that comparison. But the wine? The wine was fantastic. So unexpected, and so different (for the most part) from what I’d expect in the County. We tasted all three they had on offer (2016 Gewurztraminer, 2016 Chardonnay, and 2015 Cuvée red blend), and bought two bottles of each.

Our plan was to head to our AirBnb in Wellington, but we’d been told about one last must-visit: Parsons Brewing, just north of Picton. We took the back roads and found a much bigger operation than I’d expected: a restaurant with a huge outdoor space, families milling about, a bottle shop, and a small bar where we parked ourselves. Lindsay tried a flight, but my favourite was definitely the Grandpa Miguel’s coffee stout. I ended up buying a bottle of that and the Rinda Rinda to take home with us.

Finally, we opted to retreat to our AirBnb, which sat right on Lake Ontario. We had an hour or so to relax, and spent most of it on the back deck. I was done driving for the day, thankfully.

Dinner that night was at Wellington stalwart East & Main. We split the salad and beef carpaccio. I had the pork chop; Lindsay had the pickerel special. We had all this with an outstanding Closson Chase 2014 KJ Watson Pinot Noir. Creme brulee and bread pudding and coffees to finish it off, and we were finished. On the way home we were robbed by a cab driver from Cronkie’s Cab Company, who charged us $25 for driving us 900 metres. So much for the county vibe.

Determined to have a good time anyway, we went back to driving ourselves the next day. First up: Norman Hardie, attempt #2. We arrived just a few minutes after 11, having skipped breakfast to make sure we were good and hungry. We each got a pizza (which meant we had far too much, and took a whole one with us in the car) and baked in the sun, because the kid who seated us didn’t understand that by ‘cover’ I meant ‘shade’ and sat us where there was decidedly neither. Only after we hurriedly finished, already sunburned, did we see the breezeway with shade. Anyway. We went to the nice, cool tasting room and bought two bottles: the 2015 Cabernet Franc and 2015 Cabernet Franc Sans Soufre.

From there we fumbled around the back roads a bit before landing at Trail Estate. The last time I was there they’d just opened; now they’re a bit of a fancy operations, having also landed Hardie’s former assistant winemaker as their own. We liked everything they poured, and took both a 2016 Wild Ferment Riesling and a 2015 Cabernet Franc.

Our last winery of the trip was Closson Chase, now happily uncrowded. We picked a few samples and sat ourselves the beautiful (shaded) backyard, enjoying the wine (we bought a 2014 South Clos Chardonnay and a 2014 Churchside Pinot Noir), playing with a dog named Bella, and taking in the beautiful view. It was a perfect note on which to end our County visit.

On the way out of town we stopped for some dirty roadside ice cream (which is to say, the best ice cream) and made it back to Toronto without much hassle. All that was left to do was unpack everything and tuck away the age-worthy bottles for another day.

 

150

On Canada Day I was sitting in Your Father’s Moustache, a Halifax bar I haven’t been to in fifteen years, listening to some blues. The lead singer of Joe Murphy and the Water Street Blues Band — Joe Murphy, presumably — interrupted one of his songs to talk about Canada Day, and how this 150th anniversary isn’t so cut-and-dried. He talked about the aboriginal peoples who were here for thousands of years before settlers arrived, before Confederation. It seemed an odd, but apt, place to hear it. I smiled and nodded. Lindsay applauded. Then we drank our drinks and listened to more blues.

Let me back up though. First: we weren’t in NS to listen to live blues. We were there for a planned vacation, not an unplanned whirlwind trip like two weeks ago, mostly to see my nephew graduate high school, but also to visit our families who live there. We’d flown out a week before Canada Day after eating a big, rushed brunch from Bonjour Brioche, and landed in Halifax in time for dinner at Lindsay’s mom’s house. We stayed there that night and rested up for a road trip.

Sunday

We’d all wanted to visit the Annapolis Valley wineries — me again, them for the first time — for quite a while, and it worked out nicely since a cottage Lindsay’s family likes is down that way. So we took two cars out toward Wolfville, ate at the excellent Port Pub in Port William, bought some Sea Level beer from their store (the cashier, it turned out, is the daughter of my friends M+LK), then hit some wineries.

After driving by Lightfoot & Wolfville and seeing that it wasn’t yet open, we started with Luckett Vineyards, which I hadn’t been to. I knew they had a beautiful setting, but I’d heard less-than-stellar things about their wine, so we were pleasantly surprised that we felt compelled to buy a bottle of white (Ortega) and red (Black Cab, a blend).

Next we drove to L’Acadie, which I’d visited years ago. When we arrived the place was overrun by passengers of the Magic Winery Bus, but we were spirited aside to a barrel where we tasted all five of their sparkling wines. They were hits with the ladies, and we left with some sparkling rosé after enjoying a few quiet moments post-bus-departure.

Next up was Gaspereau Vineyards, but as we approached we saw the bus again, so we sped on to my most coveted visit: Benjamin Bridge. It wasn’t easy to find, and we pulled in just as they were closing up, but they suggested we stop back the next day. We promised we would, and drove back to Gaspereau. Which was a gong show. My memories of this vineyard were of a quaint, scrappy contender, but this place was overrun by hordes of people ordering gimmicky samples (e.g., dessert wine in chocolate shot glasses), shirtless goons, pushy parties, etc. It was pretty awful. I couldn’t even stay in the tasting room. Pretty views though.

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Our winery visits ended there, and we drove on to the afore-mentioned cottage. I was more than happy to get out from behind the wheel, play some frisbee and ping pong, eat soem steak, drink some beer (from Sea Level) and wine (the Luckett red and the L’Acadie sparkling, which I sabred open), cook smores at the fire, and boil myself in the hot tub.

Monday

After a feed of fluffy pancakes Lindsay and I made good on our promise to return to Benjamin Bridge. This time it was empty when we arrived, and we sat down for a tasting. Their sparkling is just world-class, and to try it in that setting was simply extraordinary.

We weren’t quite done with the Valley yet, so we stopped at Luckett on the way out for lunch. Pete himself sat us at our table, and a nice server soon moved us up to an even more picturesque 2-top before our food arrived.

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Before long we were back in Bedford, then into Halifax for a brief visit with my mom & dad, then back to Bedford for a feed of pasta which pretty much knocked me out.

Tuesday

Tuesday got off to a bit of a slow start, just hanging out and eating leftovers and doing a bit of work and sampling beer in the back yard.

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Before long, though, we were driving downtown to meet Lindsay’s dad at the Stillwell beer garden just off Spring Garden Road. What a spot. What a lovely spot. I had two pints, and some snacks, and we all had some caramel/activated charcoal + vanilla swirl soft serve ice cream (a mouthful in every way) before heading back to Bedford and taxiing to the local Italian spot: Il Mercato. I’d been to the old one on Spring Garden, but this one exceeded expectations. We drank Taittinger, shared starters (shrimp, mussels), ate beef tenderloin and ravioli and rack of lamb, drank a lovely bottle of Antinori 2012 Chianti, forced in dessert, and all but rolled home and fall asleep whilst watching the latest John Oliver.

Wednesday

Another lazy morning. In what would turn out to be an all-seafood day, we began our meals with bagels + salmon + cream cheese, then left Bedford for my family’s farm. Partway there we stopped at Catch Of The Bay at Masstown Market, where the fish and chips had drawn raves from both my brothers. They were not wrong.

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From there we turned down the old shore road along the Minas Basin, rather than the highway, so I could show Lindsay the sights. We admired the view, stopped at That Dutchman for cheese, powered through a downpour, and stopped at Diane’s for clams and ice cream. Yes, we’d just eaten lunch an hour before, what of it?

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We arrived at the farm, said hi to the dogs and my parents, and once my brother and his family got home, hung out with them drinking the wine and cheese we’d brought.

Thursday

We awoke to find some absolutely delicious brown bread and coffee instructions. Bless my family.

We hung around for a bit, then did a little tour of the farm, then drove to Amherst for some groceries, then visited my old high school to see my nephew graduate, then celebrated my parents’ 49th wedding anniversary, and finally had a celebratory beer with brother #2. One down, two to go. (Just kidding.)

Friday

On Friday we did a quick run to Truro with my mom, through thick fog and some absolutely pounding rain. While we waited for my mom’s appointment to finish we zipped into town and checked out Novel Tea, a bookstore / coffee shop. There were cool books and lovely curios and nice coffee and tasty snacks and Dylan/CCR on the speakers and I never wanted to leave. But leave we did, and pick up my mom, and drive back through more pounding rain to the farm, where we played crib (Lindsay beat me and skunked my dad) and came to a party for my nephew and had late night drinks involving a pork sword.

Saturday

Canada Day. I started it in the place where I feel most Canadian — the farm. It keeps calling me back. I couldn’t live there, but I love it more each time I go back. Same with the province as a whole. I find I miss it more each year.

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We said our goodbyes and drove back to Halifax, passing through yet another brutal rainstorm, then fog so thick we couldn’t see the harbour from the bridge. With less-than-expected traffic we got to our hotel and checked in just long enough to get cleaned up before heading out. We grabbed a (disappointing) coffee and some books from Trident before meeting up with Lindsay’s dad and brother at Your Father’s Moustache.

Which brings us back to where we started. I’ve had a complicated view of this Canada 150 celebration. Not that I don’t love my country, or believe strongly in it — I absolutely do, and am incredibly thankful that I live here. I cannot think of another country I want to live in, honestly. But we have to confront the things that are problematic about our country, and at the forefront of that is how we European settlers (and all those who followed) treated, and continue to treat, those who lived here first. And as much as we should celebrate the milestones of a mostly successful, mostly peaceful nation, throwing a year-long party for the 150th anniversary of what was, in fact, the drawing of lines by white settlers with no particular right to draw them (other than the right gained through force) just highlighted this particular sickness at our core. Look, I’m incredibly proud to be Canadian, but I want to be even more proud because we take a hard look in the mirror, accept that we can’t absolve ourselves of this particular sin, and look for ways to heal. So all that to say: we didn’t celebrate Canada 150 quite as patriotically as some did (and god bless), but I’m not sure the stumbling-drunk goons in the Sheraton lobby or the people at the Deadmau5 concert in the Commons were nailing it either. There was a range, we were in it (not against it), and I love Canada as much today as I did last week. So.

</rant>

Anyway. We walked back toward the hotel and stopped along the way for magazines at Atlantic News and a grunter (aka, mini-growler) of beer at Tidehouse before chilling hard at the hotel. We were resting up for dinner at Bicycle Thief, a restaurant we’d tried to go to our last time in town before something came up and derailed us. It was a mixed experience, frankly. The good: great table, nice server, delicious tuna tartare starter, very good seafood pasta second course, and good (if huge) mains. The bad: blah wine recommendation (I really need to trust my own judgment more), and a table of loud, obnoxious yobs next to us.

Much better was the new wine bar next door, Little Oak. We stopped in for a drink after dinner, and loved it. The decor, the laid-back feel, and the outstanding wine selection. Lindsay had a nice California Syrah, and I had a gorgeous Contesse de Cherisey Meursault 1er Cru 2014 pour from the Coravin. This will be a regular stop for me anytime I’m in Halifax from now on.

Sunday

We had a big ol’ lie-in in that Sheraton bed, trying to sleep off all the food. (It didn’t work.) Our only real plan for the morning was to visit the Seaport Farmer’s Market. And man, did we: coffee from Java Blend, a pretzel, crepes, jerk chicken, a bbq pork bun, noodles, groceries for lunch, and local salt to bring back to Toronto. All while staring out the window at the ginormous aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower anchored off George’s Island, and the Chilean tall ship Esmeralda, whose crew had mustered on deck as they departed.

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Stuffed and sufficiently-Halifaxed, we checked out, drove to Bedford for a few last visits (and games of crib), and drove to the airport for our flight home. The flight was unremarkable, except that they were serving Aberlour on the second leg, and we got to see the giant rubber duck as we landed in Toronto.

Lisbon

Saturday

When your job requires you to spend a few days in Lisbon, you book-end that with a few days for yourself. And you ask your Lindsay to join you. We left on Saturday the 22nd.

After a little Uber hiccup we sailed to, and then through, Pearson. We ordered a bite at the wine bar near our gate (some of which went missing; RIP lox plate) and I had my last sip of Canadian wine — Southbrook Chardonnay — for a while.

We had to book economy class, so we knew it was going to be a cramped 7+ hours. We didn’t know quite the adventure we were in for through. Just before we took off the flight attendants switched someone into the window seat next to us, who’d originally been at the back of the plane. We crammed our legs into the seats and tried to watch movies to pass the time and ignore the German family behind us who kept bashing our seats. I managed to finish Hacksaw Ridge and we were trying to watch Office Christmas Party at the same time when the lady in the window seat had to puke. And puke she did, including in our row a little bit before she got to the washroom. The flight attendants cleaned it up before she came back and took her seat…and then puked again later. It made for a disruptive movie-watching experience, but hey…at least we weren’t puking. Or covered in puke. Still…not the best transatlantic flight I’ve ever had.

Sunday

We landed in Frankfurt pretty early, cleared customs, and then hung out in that shitty airport for three hours waiting for our connection to Lisbon. It was too early to even get a decent currywurst. The less said about FRA, the better.

Our flight to Lisbon was MUCH better — no one sat next to us, so we could spread out a bit, and even got an hour or so of sleep. We arrived a few hours later in sunny, warm Lisbon. I’d arranged for a driver to pick us up, and he drove us to our AirBnB near Belem. We settled in, showered, made a plan for the day, and set out.

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We walked to Enoteca de Belem to have lunch, but they were full up so we made a dinner reservation instead and kept walking. We walked past the Jardim de Belem, past the bustling Pasteis de Belem, past the huge & beautiful Jeronimos monastery, and along the waterfront past the impressive Padrao dos Descobrimentos. We finally stopped and had a drink and lunch at A Margem, in the shade because it was so sunny and warm. (Suck it, Canada.) After a while we walked back, wishing we had cash for the vendors who sell wine and and craft beer by the river.

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We took a short nap, then got ready for dinner. We couldn’t have picked a better place for our first Lisbon meal either: Enoteca de Belem was amazing.

  • Tiger prawn
    • Sparkling wine
  • Grouper w/ clams rice, pato sauce
    • Uh…white?
  • Lamb
    • Red? Yes…red. Pretty sure it was red. (Surely.)
  • Creme brulee + coffee ice cream
    • Late harvest Moscatel
    • Some other dessert wine

That grouper will absolutely end up on my list of best things I ate in 2017. Anyway, we decided we needed more dessert. We were too late to buy any Pasteis de Belem, but got some other custard tarts nearby. We walked home, ate tarts on our little balcony, and looked up at the stars. Not a bad first day in Lisbon.

Monday

We needed a work day, so we got up pretty early and moved on to our second hotel: the Corinthia Lisbon in Campolide. We ordered a little room service, admired the place, and did a bit of work. Eventually we got hungry and went round the corner to a real, legit Lisbon feedbag: A Carvoaria where we ordered way too much food (veal short ribs with chickpeas and french fries, cod with boiled potatoes and boiled egg, aka bacalau, and so on) and a beer (our choices: “Beer, dark beer, or imported beer.”) before crawling back to the hotel and attempting more work. At least we were working outside where it was beautiful.

We decided to have dinner in Chiado, so we caught an Uber — which are incredibly cheap in Lisbon, by the way — to Sommelier Lisbon. It started out a little weird, with a slightly awkward server, but it picked up as the evening went on and a second host took over and taught us a lot about Portuguese wine. Besides, any place with a wall of 9 Enomatic machines has to be pretty good, right? I’ve captured our meal below; regrettably I didn’t capture our wines exactly, and their menu isn’t online to jog my memory.

  • Bread w/ served with carbonara, red peppers and olive oil mousses
  • Beetroot cream soup w/ orange and a coconut yogurt iceberg
    • Sparkling
  • Croquettes w/ slow-cooked oxtail and veal
    • Pinot Noir from Douro
  • Octopus tentacles w/ olive oil and garlic, garnished with brussel cabbage, baby carrots, pea sauce
  • New York Steak aged 23 days
    • Quinta Red Blend
  • Papo De Anjo w/ Moscatel reduction, goat cheese ice cream, and caramelized peanuts
    • Late harvest Moscatel

Another cheap Uber back to the hotel and we were more than done for the night.

Tuesday

Big time sleep-in. Big time room service breakfast order. Big time work catch-up following. Once again we worked at the hotel until mid-afternoon or so. Our plan was to Uber back to Belem, to see the Museu Arte Arquitetura Tecnologia we’d not had time to see our first time in Belem. First, though, we got some pizza and sushi (!) with a view at Este/Oeste in the lovely Centro Cultural de Belém.

We walked back toward the MAAT along the main Belem drag, past the hordes at Pasteis de Belem, and finally arrived at MAAT — which was closed. It was a national holiday (Dia da Liberdade) but we’d thought the MAAT would remain open. We did sit and enjoy the view from the riverbank outside, and climbed on the roof for lovely views of the city, but left a little sad. This had been the one museum we’d both really wanted to see.

Sightly dejected, we got a taxi to Cerveteca, the oldest and highest-rated beer place in Lisbon. It was this amazing little room with a solid 12-beer draft selection, and a huge number of cans and bottles for sale, both drink-in or take-away. Apart from a really weird single mixer thing happening all around us, we had an amazing time. We had a tasting flight and three shared bottles, buying three more to enjoy over the rest of the week:

  • Flight
    1. Sahtipaja “Ich bin ein Berliner Passionista” Berliner w/ passion fruit
    2. Bax Kon Minder American Pale Ale
    3. Barona + Aroeira “Vila Morena” India Brown Ale
    4. Bersalis “Sourblend” sour ale
    5. Kompaan 39 “Bloedbroeder” smoked imperial stout
  • Moriau Oude Gueuze Vieille
  • To 0l Sur Yule sour
  • Oud Beersel Oude Gueuze

 

 

 

 

After that we needed some serious food, and a quick app-look suggested a walk uphill to A Cevicheria. There’s almost always a line; we only had a ten minute wait, during which we were served an enormous gin + tonic from the takeout window and chatted with another couple from Toronto. Soon we were seated at the bar, ordering the tasting menu. I only remember bits and pieces of what we ate, but I do remember that it was GODDAMNED OUTSTANDING.

Wednesday

I spent my Wednesday at the conference; Lindsay spent hers working. We met back at MAAT after, since my conference was nearby. Once again, luck was against us: it was open, but only one exhibit was on. Still, it was a good one: Utopia/Dystopia. After that we took a LONG walk to dinner, but that length paid off in a few ways: first, we finally walked past Pasteis de Belem when there was no crowd, so we were able to experience them fresh and warm and holy shit are they ever amazing when they’re fresh and warm; second, we walked past the beautiful Torre de Belem and Monumento Combatentes Ultramar.

Just past that was Darwin’s Café, a slightly odd and slightly stuffy (at first, anyway) restaurant. We ate SO much though: grouper wrapped in puff pastry with coriander, dried tomato pesto and salad; veal carpaccio with rocket and parmesan; black spaghetti with stewed squid, bacon, mushrooms and parsley; and Portuguese garlic sausage risotto with fried egg. There was no room for dessert. Just an Uber home.

Thursday

Day two at the conference for me, and more work for Lindsay. Once the conference wrapped and I got back to the hotel we grabbed our bags and took off to our third and final hotel of the trip, the Santiago de Alfama in the oldest part of town. What a stunning little hotel: a beautiful room, cute little courtyards and a rooftop terrace with a beautiful view, even a glass floor looking down at old Roman stairs discovered during construction.

 

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We thought we’d look around a little before dinner, and walked toward the Castelo de Sao Jorge. Along the way we stopped in at Winebar do Castelo and, well…we never made it to the Castle. This place was great: a handful of tables in a triangular room, with an extremely helpful owner who used samples to narrow in on what we liked and what we didn’t, and fed us glasses from there. We had a couple each, and left for dinner, promising to return the next day.

Dinner was at Restaurante Bastardo, a recommendation from Lindsay’s friend. It took a while to find, and then it took the service a while to find itself, but the food was good. We shared the “street food” (bao, pork confit, radish spaghetti, yogurt sauce) and ceviche (shrimp, octopus, coconut milk, corn cream). Lindsay got the catch of the day (which was a river fish I can’t remember) with clam risotto and coriander sauce; I had the “Mr. Piggy 2.0” (slow-cooked pork cheek, parsnip, garden cress, Port). We split the crumble (almond quindim, apple, strawberry, crème anglaise) for dessert.

Friday

Our last full day in Lisbon. It felt like we’d been there for a month, and also like we’d just arrived. We started slow: breakfast in the hotel, working in the room for a while, and drinking a bottle of sour ale in the hotel’s courtyard during a break.

Finally we went out to see the city a bit more. We were hungry, so we headed out for lunch. All the places marked on my map were closed, though, so we ended up at a place called Maria Catita. It was definitely touristy, but still worked out pretty well: our shrimp starter was tasty, and then we shared this enormous seafood feast cooked in a copper pot called a cataplana. We split an order for one person; it ended up being too big for us to even finish. Our server gave us some ginja and sent us on our way.

We walked to the Praça do Comércio, hid in the shade for a bit, got some gelato, and then hired a tuk-tuk to take us up the hill(s) to the castle. There, or more accurately at the shops just below, we bought a few things to bring home, and then returned to the Winebar do Castelo. We intended to bring wine home with us, and thought it better to buy it from a place where we could taste everything first. We spent a long time working through tasting flights; even knowing what wine we’d like the day before he still brought us nine samples, of which we decided to buy five. He thanked us with a glass (okay, two glasses) of Taylor Fladgate 40 year old port. My god. What a beauty.

We continued the pre-dinner drinking on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, finishing off one of the bottles we’d brought from Cerveteca, before getting ready for dinner at Tágide. God, what a lovely restaurant, what excellent service, what a beautiful view, and what a final meal in Lisbon:

  • Amuse Bouche (veal terrine)
  • Couvert (bread, butter, extra virgin olive oil, salmon and dill paste)
  • Foie-gras terrine with chocolate, rhubarb textures and honey sand
  • Quail lollipop, papaya and furikake
    • 2003 sparkling rose
  • Veal sirloin matured for 40 days, potato and morel (Lindsay)
  • Duck Magret, carrot and more carrot (Dan)
    • Douro old vines red blend
  • Chocolate trio, caramel and pear

I really wish I could remember the wines we had, or would stop trusting restaurant websites to carry them. They were both spectacular. Anyway, back at the hotel we finished off the night back on the rooftop terrace, drinking the final Cerveteca beer.

Saturday

Somehow I mis-set the alarms (both of them) so nothing woke us up. Luckily I woke up around 7:15, and we scrambled to get ready. I checked out; Lindsay grabbed croissants and a turnover from the restaurant. We met our driver who dropped up at the airport. Not long after we were checked in and on our way home. A stop in London, a much-needed visit to the Park Plaza lounge at Heathrow, and then the long flight home. No puking this time, mercifully. We watched Miss Sloane, I watched Silence while Lindsay worked, and then we watched the brilliant first scene of Inglourious Basterds as we landed in Toronto. Customs, luggage, taxi, yada yada, and we were home. The wine, thankfully, made the trip unscathed.

All in all, it was an incredible trip. Honestly, I didn’t have terribly high hopes for Lisbon, but it was amazing. I’d place it in my five favourite international cities.

Boa noite Lisboa. Nos veremos novamente.

“Meek and obedient you follow the leader.”

When I was in London a few weeks ago the route my taxi took to my hotel traversed a route I’d not taken before in previous visits. This time we drove along the Thames, and across the river lit up at night I could see the Battersea power station. It’s a massive thing, known to me mainly as the image from the cover of Pink Floyd‘s Animals album.

It prompted me to listen to the album on the flight home, and again once or twice since. Even forty years on it’s still a sharp economic criticism — not of communism, as the animal/pig-themed title echoing Orwell would suggest — but of unfettered capitalism. Open Culture covered it yesterday, suggesting that rather than losing something over the years, it’s become even more relevant.

And after a while, you can work on points for style.
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake,
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile.
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You’ll get the chance to put the knife in.