What’s to be said of Montreal’s architectural influences? Zeshaun Saleem takes on one of its most iconic squares: Place d’Armes.
April is the cruelest month. Except for the trees. They cycle through life and death as if it were a roller coaster. Any minute now they’ll be racing past on their way to the lushest part of the year.
There’s something cathartic about riding a bike naked on the streets of Montreal. But that is yet to be determined as we enter our sixty-ninth minute of this ride.
After a time, people stopped asking me the Toronto question. As I moved into my mid and late thirties, the question became, “What the hell are you still doing here?”
NEIGHBOURHOOD. Suffice to say that pedestrian zones are an essential part of an urbanized environment in many parts of the world.
POLITICS. In this mayoralty race urban agriculture has hardly been on the lips of the front-runners. When asked by a Radio Canada journalist if he composts, Denis Coderre quipped: “I eat my compost,” a one liner that surely sums up his party’s well thought out environmental program.
ART. NEIGHBOURHOOD. This is decidedly the most literal season. Though we can call it Autumn, we know it as Fall or Fall-time.
For three years, Marci Babineau’s backyard chickens made her the poster girl for the urban chicken movement in Montreal. Media outlets big and small covered the story all the way to Toronto.
NEIGHBOURHOOD. For a neighbourhood that prides itself on community, an inordinate number of parents send their kids to schools outside of Mile End.
In the nineteenth century and into the twentieth, Verdun was covered with farms. In fact, it owes its status as a municipality to a group of English and French-speaking gentleman farmers in 1874 who wanted to avoid a perceived tax grab by the City of Montreal. Plus ça change…
NEIGHBOURHOOD. When we walk along the street it is impossible to know who is Catholic, who practices yoga regularly, who speaks Spanish, who listens to heavy metal, or who’s thinking about becoming vegetarian.
How many of us in Quebec are still eating from our gardens in the month of December? Global warming aside, I would hazard very few. One such fortunate man is Bertrand Montpetit, a market gardener for over thirty years, organic for the last four.
Pastagate, the Soccer Turban Ban and the Mayoral Scandal(s) were just a few of the goodies that propelled Montreal to first place in its bid to become the “Most Embarrassing City on the Planet” this summer. Knowing how to end things in style and wanting to do so with a bang, the city concluded its debacle of a summer (hopefully), with a grand finale in the form of a backhoe-sized sinkhole in the heart of its downtown core. To celebrate, I did what Montrealers do best: I threw a (sinkhole) party.
When she was in chef school, Shelley Edward’s dream was to open a restaurant that served produce from her own farm. It was a novel idea back then.
Bernard Bonneau is over six feet tall, but when he stoops to pluck a leaf off one of his spinach plants he is like a kid in a candy shop. The grin on his face says it all.