What do you know about creampuffs? Besides the fact that that was my nickname in gym class all through high school, the only thing I know about creampuffs is that I can crush about 15+ of the frozen profiteroles that come in a bucket from Costco. While still frozen. This week I visited Verdun. Home to some of my favourite restaurants Hong Mere, Blackstrap, Street Monkeys, and Janine – I recently was put on to a local spot in the neighbourhood who was making a variety of flavours of cream puffs and ice cream sandwiches. This week I went to Alice & Theo to check out the city’s newest purveyor of artisanal creampuffs.
Addiction is nothing to joke about or scoff at… unless it’s an addiction so close to obsession, then the first step to face your emotional and physiological dependancy is to man-up, face it and admit to it; My Name is Jason and I am a Puff-o-holic. What is a “puff” you ask? No, it has nothing to do with any narcotic that’s inhaled or smoked – well “inhaled” in a different sense of the word. Puffs are things next to Godliness; sweet, warm fried dough balls bathed in honey worthy of any ancient Olympian… and now citizens of the greater Montreal area.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, the concept of “brunch” is so arbitrary to me, it’s been fetishized, set to a bunch of unspoken culinary meal to time matrix regulations that people dictate their sundays based on when and what they eat – as I so eloquently expressed my view here. I mean, I understand how sometimes cereal is good at any time of day, and how some times people will have “breakfast for dinner”. I actually knew someone who wouldn’t eat pancakes or eggs benedict because those foods are reserved for sundays ONLY – I nearly had an aneurysm when she tried to explain her reasoning to me… Man, I don’t know if people are starting to get more and more annoying, or I’m starting to hate more and more people.