Montreal is very proud of its bagels. From the moment you step off the plane it's all "I guess you're here for our world famous bagels" and "oh, here come the bagel tourists" and "there's more to us than bagels you know!". Before coming to Montreal I had never once heard of a Montreal bagel. Before reading this paragraph, had you? Being here you'd think they were the fucking pyramids or something.
I think everywhere has one thing for which they have an overinflated sense of its value to the outside world. In Britain it's our sense of humour. Yes, it has some foreign fans but to hear the Brits talk about it you'd think we were the only culture in the world to have ever made a joke.
Nope, before arriving here I thought 'French', I thought 'cold' and I thought 'comedy festival'. Bagels didn't come into it.
I picked up the Montreal Gazette the other day and, as per fucking usual, they were banging on about bagels. Apparently, the ovens used to cook them are causing pollution. 'Could the world famous Montreal bagel be under threat?' they asked. Could it be time for you to have a word with yourselves about your priorities?
Along with the article, came a little piece, presumably from one of their full time bagel correspondents, on the history of the bagel. I assume this was aimed at outsiders like me because my sense is that the 'History of the Bagel' plays a large part in the school curriculum here. Apparently bagels started out as a gift one would give to expectant mothers and were designed to be used as teething rings. That is going to go mouldy well before it'll be of any use isn't it? Take it from me, all expectant mothers want are Deliveroo coupons.
As it happens, I now live just a minute's walk from Montreal's most famous bagel bakery so I've eaten rather a few. In fact walking back from a bar on Saturday night, I left the minus ten tundra for a moment, popped inside to purchase half a dozen and found myself munching on a fresh from the oven bagel for the final few steps home. When I first arrived I didn't like Montreal bagels. I found them hard, thin and odd tasting. Now, in much the same way that watching roughly forty episodes of The Wiggles in the last two weeks has turned me into a fan, I'm starting to like them. I like to think that this signifies the start of my very gradual assimilation into the culture.
I still have a long way to go. This morning I had to tell someone my address. I told her my street name - Saint Urbain.
"Sorry?" she said.
"Saint Urbain"
*quizzical look*
Bear in mind this conversation to place ON Saint Urbain.
"Saint Urbain - U. R. B. A. I. N"
"Oh, Saint Hubert..."
"No! Saint Urbain! Urrrrbaaaaaain!"
She then said my street name back to me with, as far as I was concerned, EXACTLY the same pronunciation I had given her...
"Oh, Saint Urbain!"
I think everywhere has one thing for which they have an overinflated sense of its value to the outside world. In Britain it's our sense of humour. Yes, it has some foreign fans but to hear the Brits talk about it you'd think we were the only culture in the world to have ever made a joke.
Nope, before arriving here I thought 'French', I thought 'cold' and I thought 'comedy festival'. Bagels didn't come into it.
I picked up the Montreal Gazette the other day and, as per fucking usual, they were banging on about bagels. Apparently, the ovens used to cook them are causing pollution. 'Could the world famous Montreal bagel be under threat?' they asked. Could it be time for you to have a word with yourselves about your priorities?
Along with the article, came a little piece, presumably from one of their full time bagel correspondents, on the history of the bagel. I assume this was aimed at outsiders like me because my sense is that the 'History of the Bagel' plays a large part in the school curriculum here. Apparently bagels started out as a gift one would give to expectant mothers and were designed to be used as teething rings. That is going to go mouldy well before it'll be of any use isn't it? Take it from me, all expectant mothers want are Deliveroo coupons.
As it happens, I now live just a minute's walk from Montreal's most famous bagel bakery so I've eaten rather a few. In fact walking back from a bar on Saturday night, I left the minus ten tundra for a moment, popped inside to purchase half a dozen and found myself munching on a fresh from the oven bagel for the final few steps home. When I first arrived I didn't like Montreal bagels. I found them hard, thin and odd tasting. Now, in much the same way that watching roughly forty episodes of The Wiggles in the last two weeks has turned me into a fan, I'm starting to like them. I like to think that this signifies the start of my very gradual assimilation into the culture.
I still have a long way to go. This morning I had to tell someone my address. I told her my street name - Saint Urbain.
"Sorry?" she said.
"Saint Urbain"
*quizzical look*
Bear in mind this conversation to place ON Saint Urbain.
"Saint Urbain - U. R. B. A. I. N"
"Oh, Saint Hubert..."
"No! Saint Urbain! Urrrrbaaaaaain!"
She then said my street name back to me with, as far as I was concerned, EXACTLY the same pronunciation I had given her...
"Oh, Saint Urbain!"
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