One of my favourite movie scenes is the famous phone-call scene from “Taken.” It’s when Liam Neeson is talking the hostage takers of his stupid daughter (who literally asked for her ass to be kidnapped) and said, “I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you.” These words stood out to me the first time I saw this movie, not because they were riveting or thought-provoking, but replace “kill” with “eat” and it’s exactly what I think about brunch. One of the most colourful neighbourhoods in Montreal is Plateau Mont-Royal, and that’s where you’ll find some of Montreal’s best brunch spots.
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plateau
You know what’s totally underrated? Tea. Not the ambiguous white pouch of Orange Pekoe that’s haphazardly thrown on the side of a one-cup metal teapot that probably hasn’t been washed since the day it was bought; but proper English tea. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no expect in the fine intricacies of afternoon high tea, unless you count the times I helped the old lady next door as a kid, who was drunk off brandy in the afternoon and couldn’t hook up the oscillating sprinkler to her garden hose and offered me Club Social tea crackers in return, or the times I’ve mimicked a British accent when picking up a particularly pretty tea cup with my pinky in the air (admit it, you’ve done that before.) There aren’t many places that do English tea in Montreal, but the few places that do, do it extraordinarily well. I visited this place recently that doesn’t actually serve high tea, but does prove themselves as one of the premiere places to go for a spot of tea.
Is it just me, or do you become a belligerent five year old when you’re hungry too? When failed attempts of being comforted by others often leave them with scratch marks and an earful of the mean things that people think but don’t actually say? Ok, maybe that’s just me. I’m glad that the restaurants in Montreal adopt the plain and simple philosophy when naming their restaurants and not force potential diners to meditate into a state of higher consciousness to delve deep into a pretentious psyche to decode a restaurant name like “Three…” or a straight up fucking smiley face, “:)” Remember that shit? That’s why last week when I was hangry and carried a “Beware of Hungry” sign around with me for the later part of the afternoon, I hit up a new spot in the plateau called Tacos & Tortas and knew exactly what I was getting.