Sushi restaurants in Montreal are a dime a dozen. Seems like every neighbourhood has their own local sushi joint where everyone gets their nigiri and maki fixes and lightning jolts of omega-3s straight to their veins. Sure, you’re not going to meet P.K. Subban or pay for your meal with your next car or mortgage payment, you might even end up paying with your gastrointestinal tract for having raw fish that’s prepared on a hot line next to fiery wok pushing out general taos and pad Thais. Don’t get me wrong, these polar opposites are rare and chances are your go-to spot probably satiates any sushi cravings you may have adequately, celebrityless and hygienically. I recently hit up Kaiji in Villeray, a spot I’ve been to once before and promised myself to visit again if I were ever in the area.
You know that saying, “dress for the job you want, and not the job you have”? I’ve taken this adage and directed it towards food, “eat where you want to be, and not where you are.” Want to feel like you’re eating at an authentic “dai pai dong” in Hong Kong, hit up Sai Gwan in Chinatown, or a tiny little cevicheria on the beach of some sexy latin speaking country, try Ceviches. With the fucking weather we’ve had and going into our 8th month of winter, I needed something that would evoke feelings of being on a cobblestoned lined street kissed by an ocean breeze with smells of charcoal grills filling the air.