La Boîte Gourmande (445, avenue Laurier Est): This new breakfast joint near the Laurier metro was still a bit empty when me and my girlfriends paid it a visit one Saturday morning, but the people working were sweet and let us sit there and chat for a good two hours, long after our food had gone cold and as the place slowly filled up.


The restaurant is bright and sunny, with wooden tables and church pew seating. I had a lovely melty Oka cheese, apple and walnut sandwich, and the regular bacon and eggs were good too. The yogurt came with a pumpkin compote and the coffee was yummy.


The aftermath

They also sell frozen meals that might come in handy if you live in the area and pass by on your way to the metro. There was something virtuous about this place.

Dame Tartine (1652, rue Ontario Est): I live a short walk away from a long stretch of tattoo parlours, piercing places, a big Portuguese Catholic church, a hydroponics supply store, thrift shops, laundry mats and seedy bars. Oh, Ontario Street! Foodwise there is not much to choose from this side east of Papineau – mostly a disappointing flurry of Lafleur’s or shady looking pizza parlours – but there are options, like the decent Mexican restaurant (La Guadeloupe, 2345, rue Ontario E) and one of my favourite French bistros, especially on snowy Montreal nights when we don’t want to attempt digging the car out of a snowdrift (Au Petit Extra, 1690, rue Ontario Est). One recent Saturday morning, looking for a quick breakfast and wanting to stick close to home, we ended up at the charmingly named Dame Tartine with its cutesy cartoon rendering of the dame herself on the sign and poem on the back of the menu with pertinent details of her life, starting with her home (a castle made of butter). The place was big enough that we got a table right away, but what was supposed to be a quick breakfast ended up an hour and a half affair, waiting endlessly for our meals, and finally just paying up at the counter instead of waiting even longer for the bill. But okay, I generally enjoy drawn out meals, and even though we were on a schedule, we were flexible. If the breakfast tasted good, I wouldn’t mind as much. But… I wasn’t particularly impressed. I was excited by the prospect of my French toast breakfast sandwich (Two pieces of French toast sandwiching a fried egg, tomatoes and ham) – what a high calorie, eggy, but awesome combination! When it came down to it, I would’ve rather just had a regular breakfast sandwich and forsaken the extra eggs and syrup (More on syrup below..). Andrew had the self-titled Dame Tartine eggs benedictish concoction, and it was similarly uninspired. I might give the place another chance on a snowy winter morning but for now I’m neutral on the whole thing.

The Maple Syrup dilemma: Say you order crepes or French toast, you just assume you’re going to get syrup with it, right? Obviously. But what about when you’re asked if you want either the regular (I guess "fake") maple syrup or the fancy REAL maple syrup? Do you spend that extra $1.25 to get a small paper cup of the real stuff? And if you do (because REAL maple syrup just sounds and tastes better), do you feel resentful at having to pay that extra dollar? Even if it’s just $1.25 and you should get over it already? Because admittedly, I am. I don’t expect free, real maple syrup at the diner around the corner, or in Texas, or in London, England, but I don’t think it’s much to ask for from a place that specializes in breakfast, especially in Quebec, where over 75% of the world’s supply of maple syrup is produced and where you can easily buy a $5 can of the good stuff at the grocery store down the street. I wholly support paying premiums for good, hard-to-get food, but sometimes it doesn’t seem reasonable.

Instead of entertaining thoughts of roasted turkey and bowls of cranberries this past Thanksgiving weekend, Andrew and I hopped in the car and road-tripped away from Montreal, dipping into Ontario and parts of New York.

Driving through the Adirondacks

Metropolitain Brasserie (700 Sussex Dr, Ottawa): First up was Ottawa, where we had spent the night so that I could relive high school nostalgia and watch Eric’s Trip rock out at Barrymore’s. Friday was an abnormally warm day – we were walking around the city in short sleeves – but by Saturday it was rainy and chilly.

One of my co-workers had recommended The Metropolitain to me, a cute French brasserie on Sussex, and it was a cozy place to drink coffee and eat in. I ordered a French toast sandwich stuffed with cheese and ham, served with a side of cranberry compote and fresh fruit. It was the same kind of thing I had ordered at Dame Tartine the week before, but this version was a revelation: sweet from the French toast and (free, real) syrup, salty from the cheese and ham. Smeared with the compote was even more heavenly. Andrew had an equally swoon-worthy open-faced omelet.

Putnam Market (435 Broadway, Saratoga Springs): We randomly chose Lake George, New York as a destination without realizing that it was one of the tackiest towns in the Adirondacks. I like tacky, but food-wise the place wasn’t very promising, and that night’s dinner was takeout Domino’s pizza and Adirondack Ale. Instead of attempting breakfast, we shopped at the outlet mall, and then headed east, ending up in Saratoga Springs. We were running a little later than expected and grabbed sandwiches from Putnam Market, a bustling gourmet store and deli, to sustain us. The sandwich selections were amazing. I had a roast beef + mango chutney while Andrew had roast turkey and bacon. I also picked up a bottle of sparkling Saratoga Springs water and a few chocolates from Burlington, Vermont. With the strong Canadian dollar I also took the opportunity to buy a nice pouch of Maldon sea salt and a box of Café du Monde beignet mix.

Hot Dog Heaven (216 Lark Street, Albany) and Daily Grind (234 Lark Street, Albany): Albany is eerily deserted on the weekends, and as we strolled through the large empty streets surrounded by a blend of ornately architectured state buildings, abandoned hotels and churches, and monolith structures, we wondered if something had happened to the rest of the world while we had been outlet shopping in the Adirondacks. When it came time for dinner, the only place we could find open and relatively busy was Jack’s Oyster House (42 State Street, Albany), a little fancier than what we had been planning. We accepted the situation and happily slurped down some oysters, but our waiter, who recognized that we didn’t quite fit into the average Jack’s customer, told us to check out Lark Street. Breakfast the next day was a combination of coffee from Daily Grind (there is no need for Starbucks when you can get a pumpkin spice latte from them) and cheap, greasy sandwiches from Hot Dog Heaven, which we went to mostly for the name.

The sandwiches were satisfying – big and eggy on soft, toasted rolls – and paired with the fresh coffee made for a good breakfast.