carswell

The SAQ will accept returns on defective bottles in the 12 months following purchase. If you bought a bottle of 1995 Pétrus from them in 1996, wisely decided to wait eight or nine years before opening it and then found it was corked, you're out $500. And, yes, such things happen; a few years ago I attended a tasting that featured a 1982 Mouton-Rothschild (currently retailing for a cool $1,159 at the SAQ) that was corked so badly you wouldn't have guessed it was a Bordeaux, let alone a first growth. Duboeuf, Calvet and several minor Bordeaux chateaus are already screwcapping part of their production at the instance of Tesco and other British retailing giants. Michel Laroche is using Stelvin caps for part if not all of its 2002 grand cru Chablis. In Germany, the 2002 Joachim Flick Riesling Qba (Rhinegau) and Hasselback's 2000 Johannes Baptiset were screwcapped, and reports are that several winegrowers are opting for alternative enclosures for up to half of their 2003 production. In Italy, Mionetto uses a special crown cap for its Prosecco. Olivier Humbrecht (as in Zind-Humbrecht) is said to have expressed interest in Stelvins, and in a recent issue of Revue des vins de France, high-profile wine critic Michel Bettane raved about screwcaps after seeing them in action in New Zealand. Screwcaps: they're not just New World anymore!

I don't give a hoot about screw caps in restaurants because if the bottle I've ordered is corked I can have it replaced with another bottle. For wine I buy myself, I consider screw caps the superior enclosure, since they eliminate all possibility of cork taint. The one (and only, IMHO) instance where defenders of Portuguese oak bark may have a point is wines meant for long ageing (30+ years), although screw-capped Australian rieslings have lasted 20+ years with no problems. As for the cork-extraction rigmarole in dining establishments, I couldn't care less: it's what's in the glass that matters, not how it gets there.

Well, there's no disputing taste. You'll get no argument from me about Frimas' being the cream of the crop, though. Agreed, too, that many ice wines, especially some of the Ontario rieslings, are one-dimensional glop. But while I've been bedazzled by the kaleidoscopic effect — the merry-go-round of tropical fruit, sugar and acid — found in a few vidal ice wines, no ice cider has held my palate in thrall quite that way.

The best ice cider is made very much like ice wine. The apples are left on the trees or outdoors in open crates until mid-winter. They are pressed while the temperature is below freezing; as some of the water in the fruit remains frozen, the resulting juice is denser, sweeter and more flavourful. The juice is then fermented at low temperature before being racked, aged and bottled. Some of the cheaper ice ciders use workarounds to cut corners — like pressing the apples at above-freezing temperatures and then freezing the juice to concentrate it, or freezing the apples in a freezer. Ice cider is too syrupy, sweet and lacking in potency to be compared with Calvados. sf&m's description of the taste is right on. I'd add that while some ice wines are dazzling, I've yet to experience an ice cider that is. That said, the better ice ciders are an enjoyable and affordable tipple and can work quite well as an accompaniment to foie gras and desserts. That the Economist would cover the product is not surprising; ice ciders are a minor rage in France. It all started in late 2001, when La face cachée de la pomme's Neige was served at a Canadian goverment reception in Paris. A few months later, the product was picked up by Galleries Lafayette. Soon a European distributor was found and it is now available at some 50 outlets in the Paris area as well as elsewhere in Europe, Asia and Mexico. A few websites of interest: La face cachée de la pomme Domaine Pinnacle Cidrerie du Minot Clos Saint-Denis La route des cidres The SAQ's website also has quite a bit of information, though you'll have to work to get it. From the main page, click the L button at the top to switch to the English-language site. Click the Wine and Liquor Advice tab, then the Regional Specialties link in the right-hand column. On the Regional Specialties page, click Apples for descriptions of the various types of apple-based beverages. Or scroll to the bottom of the page and click Apples under the List of Products heading; that takes you to a complete listing of the apple beverages — including ice ciders — on offer at the SAQ, many of which have detailed descriptions that you can display by clicking on the product name.

Not wanting to get my head bitten off, I've been hesitant to reply. But one of the points I would have made was that there are two ways to approach the question. Compared with where they were a couple of decades ago and with the rest of North America, Quebec cheeses are generally excellent. Compared with the best cheeses in the world, they have some distance to go. In many ways, the situation is similar to that of the local beer industry. Enormous strides have been made in recent years, with a huge increase in quality and a proliferation of styles, mostly driven by small producers. And the crème de la crème is nearly world-class. That said, the products are for the most part stylistically derivative, and none has yet trumped the Old World models on which they are based. IMHO, of course. Like others in this thread, I've noted problems with consistency. I'm not talking seasonal variation, either; the same cheese, from the same reputable purveyor, at more or less the same degree of ripeness will be delicious one week and nothing to get excited about a week or three later. Also, the range of styles could be wider. There are so many softish washed-rind cheeses in the St-Paulin mould but little along the lines of, say, Mimolette, Manchego, Comté, Raclette, Crottin, Roquefort or various Tomes, not to mention some of the better Italian, Corsican and Iberian cheeses. Still, the industry is young, and recent progress augurs well for the future. I just wish I felt so sanguine about the local wine industry...

If Le Bleu Raisin's website is anything to go by, the St-Denis restaurant is no longer a BYO and has a new-fangled menu consisting entirely of little dishes. Several of the dishes are carry-overs from the former menu. Veggies, especially the green leafy kind, don't loom large. The wine list is competent and contains a surprise or two (Tignanello?!); mark-up appears to be 100%, alas. I wonder how this concept will fly.

TYVM. Too bad the list of confit sources doesn't include several of my winners (e.g. Anjou-Québec, A. Bélanger et fils, P'tit Plateau) yet reccos several products that left me unmoved (Maître Gourmet, Champfleuri, Maître Boucher). Chacun à son confit, I guess...

Thanks for the recipe. Can't find the confit article on the La Presse website. Do you have a link?

Good investigative work, sf&m. I think I know the Volailles du Marché stand but didn't realize the did confit. Am pretty sure that Le canard goulu is where the Atwater Market's A. Bélanger et fils source the duck for their confit, too. Did you ask whether VdM's confit is homemade? Or maybe they sell Canard goulu's, which comes packed two legs to a jar. I look forward to your report on it and any other confit you try. There's no single right way to reheat confit. (And bear in mind that that's what you'll be doing. If the confit is made traditionally, the duck is thoroughly cooked, having already simmered for an hour or two or five in fat.) So, your label's instructions will work fine. Lately I've stuck with the hot oven method for several reasons. For the purposes of this survey, it seemed wise to eliminate a variable by preparing the competing products in the same way. Also, the crisp skin is one of the delights of a well-made confit, and roasting is the surest-fire method for getting it. Lastly, it's the least fussy and messy preparation. For a description of the technique I use, see my February 24 reply to Identifiler above. A few other ways I've prepared confit: ∙ Sauté some sliced onion (garlic optional). Add a large amount of shredded cabbabge, stir to coat with the fat. Add a small amount of liquid (duck or chicken stock; water; vinegar). Cover and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes. Add quartered potatoes and simmer for 15 minutes. Place the confit in the cabbage and simmer for 15-20 minutes more. ∙ Sauté some peeled pearl onions and, optionally, diced ham in butter. Add fresh green peas, stirring to coat them with the fat. Dust with flour, stir again, add the confit, a bouquet garni and a small volume of water. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. ∙ Remove the skin and shred the meat. Excellent cold with a glass of rosé or incorporated into salads. Or reheat in a bit of duck fat, stock or demi-glace for inclusion in other dishes (omelets; pasta dishes, especially ones that feature mushrooms, including ravioli; a bed for a slice of seared fois gras; root veggie purées; sandwiches). Speaking of salads, the recipe Identifiler referred to above looks interesting: musclun salad with an cider vinegar dressing, caramelized apple slices and confit (the recipe says to used the salad as a bed for the whole leg; I think I'd use the shredded meat). You could also do something similar with oranges. Duck fat is one of the best fats for sautéing potatoes. Other veggies work well, too. And I love the savour it imparts to shrimp and scallops. As an accompaniment to simply prepared confit, sarladaise potatoes are great; for the general procedure, see the Maître Gourmet/La Queue de Cochon entry above. But my favourite side is warm lentil salad (adapted from a Patricia Wells recipe): rinse and pick over 500 g of Puy lentils; put in a saucepan with an onion cut in half stuck with 2 cloves, a peeled garlic clove or 2, 1 or 2 bay leaves, a branch of thyme or winter savoury and, optionally, a sugar cube; cover with water by 1 inch; bring to a boil, cover and simmer until the water is absorbed and the lentils tender (20-40 minutes); remove the veggies and herbs; dress warm with a mixture of 1/3 cup top-quality red wine vinegar, three tablespoons olive oil, salt and pepper.

Not to belabour the point, but initially five out of five and later three out of five tasters in my unscientific survey preferred Alati-Caserta's cannoli to San Marco's, and that included me.

San Marco didn't offer me any choice of fillings; as far as I know, ricotta was the only option. I did ask about their lobster tails, however. The default filling is crema (crème chantilly), though they will fill them with ricotta on request. Three sizes are available (small, medium, large) and all must be ordered in advance. In the best of all possible worlds, yes. On the other hand, the idea of a two-hour schlepp for the sole purpose of tasting a ricotta-filled pastry tube gives me pause. Meanwhile, there's nothing to stop you or another eGulleter from stepping up to the plate, you know...

Hmm. I've often found it to be the other way around. Ricotta, especially the stuff that comes in plastic tubs, can have a grainy, cottage cheese-like texture and a nutty taste that I associate with whey products. (The fresh ricotta available at Milano and other Italian stores has an incomparably finer texture and fresher taste.) Mascarpone, on the other hand, is essentially Italian cream cheese. Steve's right about the cannoli fillings, BTW. Ricotta is classic. Don't recall ever running across a mascarpone-filled cannoli, though.

IMHO, firm is best for tofu you deep-fry yourself. If soft is all you have, cut it into equal-sized cubes and press it for an hour or so (I put it in a rectangular baking dish, place another, slightly smaller flat-bottomed baking dish on top and put a big rock or a water-filled saucepan in that dish). Dry the pressed tofu, then deep-fry in small batches until golden. Packaged fried tofu is a complex subject. Without going into details (thin vs. thick, Chinese vs. Japanese, etc.), you're generally best off blanching it in boiling water to remove excess oil before incorporating it into the final dish. I don't use it very often and when I do it's usually in soups and stews, where it adds a meaty flavour. Based on Gus's description of his range, I'd say the brown in his photo is due more to sauce absorbtion than charring. Electric ranges just don't generate the necessary BTUs. Neither do most gas ranges for that matter. A few weeks ago I tried wokking on a friend's new DCS (18K BTUs, I believe); it was better than electric but still not authentic. Have heard that some propane ring-burner setups on gas barbecues and turkey friers can achieve about double that output, which is in the range of the fire-pit burners used in Chinese restaurants. In any case, my favourite way to prepare bok choi, baby and mature, is to blanch the bunches whole, drain them, cut them in half lengthwise, brush them with olive oil and grill them on the barbie (for a more Asian flavour, substitute a blend of peanut and toasted sesame oils for the olive oil). The perfect bed for a grilled duck breast, salmon, cumin-rubbed quail, etc.

Hey, nilpoj. I often enjoy a cup of tea on workday afternoons in the winter and usually have a pitcher of sun tea (gasp!) in the fridge in summer. That said, I'm actually a coffee person and if I end a meal with a hot beverage, it tends to be an americano (aka an alongé), these days a decaf if much after five. Am not aware of any local restaurant that takes after-dinner tea service seriously. Are you? Thanks for the advice, Joanne. A couple of friends are tea lovers, so I'll suggest CS as a meeting place soon. Re the tasting, I was unaware that connoisseurs attached importance to spring teas. Are young leaves prized for the delicacy of their flavour or is the purpose to get an idea of the "vintage," like vineyard reports and barrel tastings in the wine world?

The recent discussion on cannoli made me anxious to compare Alati-Caserta's with San Marco's and Alati's, and last weekend’s departure on sabbatical of a favourite disquaire at my neighbourhood Renaud-Bray provided the opportunity. Though I set out on Sunday intending to hit all three pastry shops, reason prevailed: not only was the schlepp to St-Léonard unappealing, the thought of eating three cannoli, however delicious, was vaguely nauseating. So I limited my purchases to two: Alati-Caserta (AC) and San Marco (SM). As MaeveH foretold, SM filled the tubes to order; at AC, they were prefilled. Prices were similar: a half-dozen sets you back $13 at SM, $13.50 at AC. The participants in this impromptu tasting included two disquaires, a cashier and yours truly. One of the disquaires also took the remaining four cannoli home, where he and his girlfriend investigated further. All except me were cannoli virgins, though both disquaires consider themselves connoisseurs of French pastry. All involved knew that the cannolis had been the subject of debate on this board, but no one except me knew which was championed by whom. When opened, the boxes were greeted with cries of "wow" and "écoeurant." SM's pastry tubes were golden and flaky, AC's brown and solid. Both were liberally sprinkled with confectioner's sugar. In both cases, the filling was ricotta based. SM's filling appeared to incorporate chocolate shavings, AC's orange or lemon zest. We began with the AC cannoli, which met with favourable comments all around. After a pause and an infusion of coffee from Brûlerie St-Denis, we attacked the SM cannolis. Everyone agreed on the basics. The AC cannoli were sweeter, the filling slightly denser on the palate, the flavour more complex, including, maybe, a bit of cinnamon or almond. The tube had a toasty taste. For their part, the SM cannoli tasted more of ricotta and had a sourish tang. The chocolate shavings were not particularly discernible as a flavour. The tubes were crisp and flaky but had an faintly oily aftertaste. After the first bite or two of their SM cannoli, both J. and P. declared it superior, praising the texture of the tube, the tang of the filling and the low level of sweetness. About halfway through, I wandered over to the cash to ask M. for her verdict. Both were good, she said, but she preferred the dark one (AC). When I arrived back at the service desk, J, and P. independently announced that they’d changed their minds and found the SM slightly bland and cloying. I concurred. Everyone agreed that both were fine products and that the ranking had less to do with absolute quality than personal preference. So, there you have it: a snapshot more than a scientific survey, but five out of five vote in favour of Alati-Caserta. Or so I thought… As mentioned above, J. took the four remaining cannoli home on his dinner break. This morning he sent me the following message (edited to protect the innocent): Final score: AC 3, SM 2. Make of it what you will.

Located a couple of doors east of Chez Louis in the row of shops along the south side of Jean Talon Market, Boucherie du Marché is a deep and narrow split-level store packed to the gills with meats, cheeses and gourmet packaged goods. If the aisles are tricky to manoeuvre on weekdays, weekends bring total gridlock. The jumble of products, ample lighting and sunny paint scheme give the store a bright feel despite the lack of natural light. Running the entire length of the east side of the store, refrigerator cases contain a large selection of meat and poultry including sausages, venison, caribou and goose leg confit. Quality is generally high. The duck confit, made on site and not cryovaced, runs $4.69 a leg or thereabouts. I bought two; one I’d guesstimate at 330 g, the other 280 g. The skin was browner than most. Twenty minutes in a 370ºF oven rendered little fat and even less of that mouth-watering confit smell. In fact, you wouldn’t have guessed we were having duck for dinner until I melted some duck fat (still raiding the Anjou-Québec jar) to sauté potatoes in. Pulled from the oven, the legs were picture-perfect: the skin brown and crisp, the meat dark and moist. Unfortunately, we were in for a gustatory disapointment in both departments. Despite the fatty underlay, the skin was nearly flavourless. While tender and succulent, the meat tasted more like duck than confit. It was also undersalted. In short, the legs lacked savour. And since savour is the main point of confit… We washed the meal down with the tail ends of two bottles opened earlier in the week, both Southwest French reds from the 1995 vintage: Château Lillian-Ladouys (St-Estèphe) and Château Aydie (Madiran). Both were in a good place. The St-Estèphe was clearly the finer wine but, once again, with its rustic tannins and blunter fruit, the Madiran proved the better match with confit. Boucherie du Marché South side of Marché Jean-Talon, 514 270-7732

Glad you finally replied, Cole, and even gladder you did so civilly. Exactly. You and beaucher dissed a meal, a dining experience, a thing. Mr. Landurie dissed you, a person. Big difference. I second that. Actually, I seconded it on Chowhound a couple of weeks ago in response to a query about Les Halles. Quoting myself: To my surprise, the post was soon deleted. In an off-board exchange, the alpha hound himself explained that a reader had complained that it was unfair to claim the owner had engaged in vicious attacks when, in fact, he was the *victim* of vicious attacks. Leff encouraged me to repost the message with the offending sentences removed; bothered by his opinion-stifling and the complainer's spinelessness (instead of appending a dissenting post to mine and giving me the opportunity to defend my opinion, s/he argued for censorship), I didn't. Wonder if it's the same minion who complained to Chowhound.

O-Cha-I (4517 St-Denis, 514 982-9229) is a pleasantly funky semi-basement with a lovely selection of teas and chais served with great care. They also sell pastries, desserts and, I believe, sandwiches. Closing time is quite late. On my list of places to try is Camellia Sinensis on Emery St. Click here to go to their website. For high tea with crumpets, clotted cream and crustless cucumber sandwiches, there's the Ritz-Carlton hotel. In the spring and summer, you can sit in the garden and watch the ducklings. I believe the St. James Hotel in Old Montreal also serves high tea.

Sorry about the delay, Aaron. It took a while to ask around. Not only that but, to my surprise, no one I spoke to has tried bringing in unrepresented wines through the SAQ. Several were under the impression that, the website's claims notwithstanding, the monopoly makes you jump through hoops by way of discouragement, but no one could claim it for a fact. Truth or urban legend? For what it's worth, a couple of people said that a four-month waiting period doesn't sound out of line. Bear in mind that you're dealing with a huge bureaucracy and that everything has to go through official channels. Hypothetical scenario: You submit your order. They wait for your deposit/payment to clear. Then they contact their rep for the region. The rep contacts the winery to ascertain availability and price, obtains a purchase order, purchases the wne, has the wine picked up at the winery and then arranges shipping to Montreal. It wouldn't surprise me if for small orders they hold the wine until they have room in a regular shipment from the area; it'd be cheaper and safer (FedEx and kin don't ship wine in temperature controlled containers). Then there's customs. Then delivery to and processing at the SAQ warehouse. Then identification and culling of your private order from the regular products. Then QA. Then they contact the private order service, which contacts you and has the wine transferred to the delivery point. With all the attendant red tape. And remember, it's not really a priority for them. If the Canadian agent for the wine you want is in Quebec or Ontario, try buying directly through them and picking it up in person. If the agent is elsewhere, get someone in that province to buy the wine for you and arrange for shipping (can be hard since it's illegal to ship alcoholic beverages between provinces; a friend or relative coming to visit is your best bet). For wines with no Canadian agent, you can try convincing a local promotional agency to take the winery on. Or you can buy the wine yourself, have it shipped to a reciprocal state and then carry it across the border "en importation valise", either duty-free a couple of bottles per person per visit or a case at a time (look out for the provincial markup, though!). Shockingly, some people who choose the latter option have arranged for the seller — usually a liquour store — to issue a fake invoice so that duty, taxes and markup are not quite so onerous. Don't get carried away doing that, though, as customs officers have price lists that contain the MSRPs of many well-known wines; you aren't going to convince them you picked up that bottle of Yquem for $19.95. If you decide to bring it back in one shot, consider crossing the border in Ontario; the last time I checked, the markup was around 50%, compared with Quebec's 90%. It may be even less in some other provinces. Also, there's an absolute limit on the amount of wine you can bring in at a time, even if you pay duty on it. The limit varies from province to province. From the FAQ section of the SAQ website: As for not declaring the wine, you'd be taking a big risk. The "I forgot I had it" excuse won't fly. One person I know who tried smuggling and got caught had his car impounded at the border along with the wine. He had to take a bus to Montreal and then, a few days later, travel back to the border and pay a stiff fine (like $3K) to get the car released (the wine was forfeited). Actually, he considered himself lucky because customs could have kept the car. (Here's a less-than-surefire strategy that once worked for me. Shortly after Christmas, I drove up from NYC with a mixed case in the car. Arrived at the border shortly after midnight. The customs officer asked if I had anything to declare. "A case of wine," I answered. He reached for a declaration form and asked, "a case of 750-ml bottles?" "Nope," I replied. "There's eight or nine 750-ml bottles, and three 375-ml bottles and a 640-ml bottle of vin jaune and a bottle that's, I don't know, a bit under 500 ml." His eyes glazed over. He shook his head, set down the pad and waved me on, saying "'Tis the season.") I'll keep asking around and report back if I hear anything. In the meantime, let us know what you do and how it goes, especially if you private import through the SAQ. It's be great to have some first-hand info on that.

Middle Eastern vs. Greek: it's a point I made above but identifiler's pistachio-filled filo squares with the corners folded up sound like the staple of Lebanese pastry shops and restaurants. Don't recall ever seeing anything similar in a Greek establishment. Maybe Le Petit Milos is going pan-Mediterranean in the dessert department? Arab (savoury) pastry story: Back in the '70s, barely functional in French and just beginning to learn about Middle Eastern food, a friend and I went to a cafeteria-style Lebanese restaurant somewhere on Côte Vertu. Spotting a pile of spinach turnovers (fatayer bi sabanikh), my friend asked the owner, "C'est fatayer?" The owner's demeanour instantly changed. Eyes flashing, he frowned, drew himself up and angrily replied, "Non, monsieur. C'est fait aujourd'hui!"

If I've seen baklawa at Le Petit Milos, it didn't register. Where do they keep them, ID? Do they make their own or purchase them from a bakery? In my limited experience, Motta is uneven and OK at best. (My experience is limited because I quickly learned to head for Alati-Caserta.) Have never tried their cannoli but their lobster tails are nothing to write home about.

That pastry's called galaktobouriko (or letters to that effect). In the '80s there was a tiny Greek bakery on the corner of Napoléon and Hôtel-de-Ville or de Bullion that made the city's best crusty white rolls and absolutely killer galaktobouriko. One day I asked the clerk what the name meant and suddenly made the etymological connection between lactose, galaxy and the Milky Way. Haven't been to Picadilly, so thanks for the tip. The baklawa shops I mentioned above make Middle Eastern (Lebanese, I believe) baklawa, by the way. Marché P&A on Park between St-Joseph and Laurier also sells excellent thick yogurt (half cow's milk, half goat's milk). Perfect for making tzatziki. Thanks for the princesstårta link. Can't display it because I recently ditched Explorer for Firefox and haven't yet installed the Java plug-in, but I will. Is your SFBA Italian princess cake the genuine article?

Poutine, am surprised at the relative dearth of replies. I'd have thought everyone had a favourite pastry shop or two... Anyway, changing gears a bit, Montreal also has some fine baklawa makers. My two faves are Pâtisserie Dorée (1560 Dudemaine) and Noisettine (9465 Charles-de-Latour). Some of the baklawa at Adonis are pretty good, too. Have never seen a princesstårta outside of Scandinavia, sf&m. But, then again, I've never been to Minneapolis. It'd probably not be too hard to make, although getting the marzipan perfectly smooth and seamless could prove a challenge. I also miss fettisdagsbullar (mardi gras buns, for the non-Swedish speakers) — filled with almond paste, not whipped cream TYVM — and fresh cloudberries and wild strawberries, to say nothing of the endless varieties of sill (pickled herring). On the other hand, surströmming (fermented herring) and blodpuding (pig's blood and flour) I can live without. Actually, with the exception of crispbread, pepparkakor (Swedish ginger snaps) and the limited range of items at IKEA, Swedish products are hard to come by in Montreal. Gee, sorry if strike you as high-strung, Cully. Time to get that Zoloft scrip refilled, I guess. Thanks but no thanks. Maybe in 2015 when the blue line's extended. Until then, St-Léonard = Siberia. Meanwhile, I'll just have to suffer Alati-Caserta's inferior products. Oh, well, ignorance is bliss.

A friend has just told me that in a recent Gazette article about Schwartz's possibly opening a branch in the Crescent-Bishop area of downtown, the owner was quoted as repeatedly referring to the meat's being marinated. I didn't see the article and a search of the newspaper's website turns up nada (it only goes back a week, though). Still, assuming my friend's memory isn't playing tricks on her (highly unlikely that it would), does this mean that smoked meat is not dry-cured? Or is "marinated" trade talk for dry-cured? Maybe the owner's trying to throw imitators off the track? On their legendary quest, did the marathoners inquire as to the process whereby this delicacy is produced? Has a piece of the smoked meat puzzle just fallen into place?

Very late add-on, but I remember reading once that the early Jewish immigrants to Montreal were Romanian. The bagels, thus, are not only closer to Old World bagels, but Romanian bagels, specifically. Just what I read... According to everything I've read, they are close to Old World bagels. Or were before the recent trend to chubbification began. The Romanian connection is new to me, however. Will poke around and see what I can turn up. Unfortunately, at the St-Viateur bagel factory a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that the newspaper articles describing the history of the factory and the product had been removed from the wall on which they'd hung for at least a couple of decades. Have heard something similar about smoked meat, by the way. One of the purported differences between it and pastrami is that the latter is made with sweet spices whereas smoked meat isn't, because its origins were in poorer areas of Europe (some say Romania, others Lithuania), where sweet spices were too expensive for everyday use. As you might guess from its name, Romanian derives from Latin and so shares a basic vocabulary and grammar with the other Romance languages. That said, I doubt Montreal's French connection was much of a factor in attracting Romanian Jews. The big wave of immigration of Eastern European Jews to Montreal occurred in the first two decades of the 20th century. At the time, they were generally ostracized by Catholic Quebec and their children were forced into the Protestant (read English) school system. Also, the language of commerce was largely English. For those and other reasons, if contemporary Jews spoke a Canadian language, it tended to be English. French-speaking Jews didn't arrive in appreciable numbers until after 1920 and especially after WWII, mostly from North Africa and the Middle East. And, of course, nowadays most immigrant children have to go to French school. Times change!