om nom nom nom

Something I can’t seem to get over is how much mind-bogglingly delicious food there is in Montreal, for incredibly cheap.

Today I’m breakfasting on left-over’s from last night’s heavenly Turkish dinner at Avesta, (2077 rue Sainte-Catherine Ouest), and the lamb and the lavash bread, (that they make fresh, right in the window), and the everything is still so tasty that it’s shutting down my ability to process any other input. David apparently just said something to me, but I was too busy communing with my food to even notice. Oh. My. Mercy. Is it ever freaking good. The lavash bread, especially, is an entirely thrilling experience, which sounds insane until you try it hot from the grill. All dignity vanishes as you stuff it into your mouth, your eyes closing in appreciation.

Yesterday we had the foresight to bring a Santropol Midnight Spread sandwich home to be breakfast. I’m not sure if we’ve ever had a better idea. I love Santropol’s sandwiches so much that I was actually disappointed that they were out of posters for sale. I want to be able to put up their advertising in my home. They are that perfect, that delicious, that absolutely addictive. If they catered a war, the war might end. “I’m going to shoot you. Mr. Enemy!” “Wait, have this sandwich first!” “Well, actually, this is pretty good. Thank you! You are my new best friend.”

And I got to have it for breakfast. In bed.