Bon Appetit

I struck me, while walking from the flat I rent, in Ville Ste. Laurent to the commuter train, earlier this week, that Montreal is the most eclectic major city I have ever seen in North America. I have an option of commuting to my appointments by train or subway. That, in itself, can be a virtual excursion in the mosaic of two completely different profiles of the unique aggregate that makes up the citizenry of Montreal.
"What", I ask my francophone colleagues, "is the most significant factor that seems to make Montreal so special from other cities?" The responses I get are rarely the same. The churches, the language, the food, the women, the housing, the depanneurs, the Habs, are some of the suggestions trying to remedy my curiousity.

I was getting some supplies for the flat at the neighbourhood grocery when, I realized, I was shopping in a predominantly Greek store and I had all sorts of selections to choose from that could transplant my palate from the neighbourhood ethnicity of my choosing to a Greek variety of meats and cheeses, wines and coffee and produce for the evening meal. In essence, I could go from dining on Hamburger Helper to Souvlaki in the very urbanity I was questioning the mystery of life.

It was no mystery after all, it can be any number of things that make the city so wonderful, depending on the person. For me the puzzle was solved, Montreal smoked meat is why it I like going there. Bon appetit.