Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I haven't really posted about the New Year's visit to Montreal, in part because one of the things I did there was push myself too hard/do too much. ( not the main point here )

However, most of the Sunday outing was fun. papersky and rysmiel took several of us (their houseguests, and Rene's two houseguests) to Marche Jean Talon, a nice big market that has a really impressive spice shop. We started by slogging through some snow from the metro; it's Montreal, it's January, we have boots, not a real problem. Then we walked into the market and I said "Crepes!" and Papersky said she'd been planning on pointing people who believed in lunch at either the creperie or the fish shop across the hall from it. So I, rysmiel, and melopoeia and her husband Mike, and nancylebov got lunch, and papersky and jonsinger hung out for a bit. Around the time Melopoeia and I were finishing our crepes, she realized she didn't have her wallet. So, we sorted out the money (her husband, Mike, did have cash), and she headed back to the metro station to look for it. (Not found, she eventually returned, told us that, and went to retrace her steps. I don't know what the outcome there was.)

I caught up with everyone at the spice shop, where they had just started a long conversation with one of the people who work there (I think he said his parents own the shop), about a lot of different spices, and his travels to find and buy spices, and so on. Jon was in his element, of course, and the guy seemed to be enjoying himself: lots of questions, lots of "can we see some of that," and periodically "I'll take some of that, please." We spent a lot of time making subtle comparisons: when I remembered I wanted to replace my cardamom, he helpfully got out three kinds for me to smell. (The one I wound up buying is from Kerala.) Jon not only found things he wanted, he found things he hadn't heard of.

I also said that since I can't eat capsicum-spicy anymore, I've been looking for spicy things I can eat, and explained that black pepper, horseradish, ginger, garlic, and mustard have been good. I think he's already showed off the grains of paradise by then: pods with 100 or 150 tiny seeds inside, use 4 or 5 in a dish. I bit one to see what I thought, and bought two pods.

He got out some oblongs of "poivre sauvage," explained in English as wild Assam pepper [our enthusiastic salesman was fully bilingual, and the spice packages are mostly bilingual, but he sometimes came out with French names rather than English ones, and the store newsletter is in French (I grabbed one to take notes on), as is their cookbook]. The Assam peppers are smoked, a convenient side effect of being grown and harvested in an area where other farmers are smoking tea leaves. I believe it's in the black pepper family, but I got no botanical names. My notes say "use a mortar and pestle", because even if I had a spare peppermill they're much larger than normal peppercorns. (If I ever get around to setting up the spice grinder, I will try that.

I also have some "Tasmanian pepper berry," which tasted potentially useful and a bit hotter than either the grains of paradise or the smoked pepper; some cinnamon sticks (true cinnamon, not cassia), which I probably didn't need; and a package of rose petals suited for use as a garnish. I had been thinking of using the rose petals on a rice pilaf, but wasn't in the mood with the pilaf a couple of weeks ago. Maybe the next one. In fact, the only thing I've actually used so far is the cardamom (in a pilaf), because I have limited energy for cooking, and less for experimenting, at the moment. The rose petals were the sort of thing that happens when we're sniffing and discussing interesting things, and I have a credit card, and maybe because I was getting a little punchy.

I gave up on the spice shop sooner than my friends: I was overdue for a cup of tea, and when our friend got out three kinds of vanilla for people to compare and I couldn't smell any of them at all, I concluded I was out of nose.* So, tea and then wandered back for a bit (in retrospect, I probably should have gone back to Papersky's apartment, had a cheese sandwich or something, and caught my breath, but when I get tired or otherwise stressed my tendency is to stick with my people, even if there's another, at least as sensible, and relatively straightforward plan. (No, I don't appear to have learned much since declining medical attention after what was probably a concussion, in favor of proceeding to the Lunacon meeting I was heading to when I fell. Maybe the idea will sink in this time; a tired Redbird is still thinking better than one with a bump on the head, and may remember better.)

So, a bit more slogging through the snow, a can of maple syrup, some chocolate (other people bought more than I did, because I'd gotten quite a bit earlier in the weekend, from Papersky and in other shops), a longer-than-expected wait while Papersky and Jon Singer took a bus to drop off some useful supplies for a sick Alex (WINOLJ) and had a cup of tea with her and zorinth, and eventually dinner at Shambala, the Tibetan place on Rue St.-Denis.

I am glad I went out on Sunday, but I wish I'd either stayed in Friday, or stopped after the spices: the chocolate shop wasn't particularly special; I can get perfectly good maple syrup here in New York; the tea in the place Rysmiel, Nancy, and I waited wasn't very good; and Shambala, again, is perfectly nice but I've been there before and find it pleasant rather than exciting (and no capsicum rules out a bunch of the menu, though the dumplings were fine).

I think the shop does mail/Web order. http://epicesdecru.com.

* I was reminded that I wanted to post this by a conversation with adrian_turtle in which we were discussing smell, and sensitivity, and I mentioned running out of olfactory something shortly before we got to the vanilla.

It's 1 January, so I'm in Montreal.

We had an excellent New Year's Eve dinner: papersky roasted a goose that came out particularly well this time. Also nut roast, cabbage, Danish vegetables, roast mushrooms: what by now feels like the traditional meal to me as well as to her, zorinth, and rysmiel. For a starter she gave us three different kinds of roast pork and some raisins. For afterward, a cheese course, then Christmas pudding and raspberry clafouti.

After dinner, we read to each other, and found room for chocolates as the evening went on. The readings included a trio of twilight-themed stories by Papersky, a variety of beginnings and excerpts from longer things, an odd story on bilingualism [I had to ask Rene to slow down, because I can't follow French at his normal speaking speed], and I did Le Guin's "Schrödinger's Cat" and Kipling's "Sing-song of Old Man Kangaroo."

"We" this year also included hobbitbabe and Rene who I don't think is on LJ.

I talked to cattitude and to adrian_turtle's voice mail shortly after midnight, and have caught up with her by email.

The Biodome was excellent on the 30th, with new monkeys (both a baby of one species and a new-to-there species), extremely bouncy golden lion tamarins, and a visible penguin chick.

Addendum: Papersky pointed out guinea hen (which I had some of in pate a day or two ago) as a new food I'd mentioned, and I am now trying to remember whether I'd had caribou before (another pate, this one with cranberry, which I like but my hosts don't, so I may have to finish it before I leave).

I didn't try as many new foods in 2006 as in 2005: what I'm sure of is celeriac root, from linetoinfinity's farmshare box, and birch juice, courtesy of jonsinger, though he wasn't here when we opened it. The celeriac didn't appeal particularly; the birch juice was nice, but I agree with papersky that it's oversweetened, or at least "CMAK" (that's Cyrillic, pronounced "Smack") brand is. Jon, are you aware of other brands, or do I need to poke around Eastern European import shops on my own? (I'd been going to say Russian, but the company is actually Ukrainian, on the evidence of their postal address and URL.)

Rysmiel and I tried going out for ice cream yesterday afternoon, but Maple Delight had closed by the time we arrived; it's a change from turning up on 2 January, because we now know they're closed then. Fortunately, Suite 88 was still open when we got there, though the woman warned us they'd be closing in 20 minutes. They had no gelati out, but the intense hot chocolate was fine, as was Rysmiel's gateau.

It continues unseasonably mild, but snow had fallen by the time I arrived, so it looked like winter in a way New York hadn't by the time I'd left. (Nor, I gather, had Montreal until a day or two earlier.) I've mostly been wearing my sneakers, because they're better for me to walk distances in, rather than my boots (there's only a few centimeters of snow, and not enough slush that I can't step around the puddles).