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Eating and Drinking Our Way Through Nova Scotia: The Grand Banker in Lunenburg

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The Bluenose II docked in Lunenburg

“We’re going out! My treat!” Nina announced. It was my turn to cook that evening. But Nina was so overjoyed to see me after the incident with the dog, she nixed that. Bonus!

Nina suggested the Grand Banker Seafood Bar & Grill on Montague Street in Lunenburg. It was a haunt of ours from when we first moved to Nova Scotia last November and we’d found the staff friendly and the food very good. The restaurant serves a great lobster dinner, possibly the best mussels in town and a very tasty pan-fried haddock with roasted vegetables and garlic mashed potatoes. Whenever we went there, we invariably met someone, often a CFA (“Coming from Away”) as opposed to NBAs (“Never Been Away”), with whom we shared interesting stories from all over the world. Not unlike Lunenburg itself, the Grand Banker was a gateway to the world.  

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Toulouse enjoys the view as he dines well

The evening blushed with the warmth of summer, so we decided to sit outside. The outdoor patio is cozy (it only seats three small tables) but it commands a grand view of the harbor and working waterfront, currently full of boats being repaired, built or preparing to go somewhere.

Back in its early days, Lunenburg’s waterfront bustled day and night with boats coming and going to the Grand Banks  and returning with bounties from the sea: cod, scallops, shrimp and haddock. Alan Creaser, the owner of The Grand Banker, is a native of Lunenburg from way back—his ancestors founded the community in 1753 and thrived on farming, fishing, shipbuilding and ocean-based commerce. The expansion of the fishing industry continued into the 20th Century and a host of associated businesses flourished along Lunenburg’s waterfront. Ship repairing and outfitting continued throughout the Second World War and, by the 1950s, Lunenburg was a mature fishing port with prosperous industrial and commercial sectors and hard-working population. In 1995, Lunenburg’s “Old Town” was added to the UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage List and currently enjoys a mixed industry of tourism, art and ocean related commerce.  Buildings, which housed ship chandleries, fish stores and warehouses now serve as craft shops, galleries and restaurants and a museum.

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Lunenburg's colorful waterfront

I found it only fitting that Creaser, whose passion for sailing the world, named his restaurant/pub the Grand Banker. According to Creaser, only fishermen who sailed the schooners of Lunenburg and braved the Atlantic waters of the Grand Banks to fish earned the title of “Grand Banker”. Creaser, whose broad boyish smile matched the twinkle in his eyes, bought the complex of two hotels and restaurant/pub in 1997 and immediately did revisions to “open up” the place. “You couldn’t see in or out!” he lamented. He converted the old balcony into indoor seating with a prime view of the waterfront, then he put in a cozy bar by the entrance and hired Norm, affectionately known to the community as the “publican” (the man of mystery…:-3) to manage the place.  

As we watched the tourists ambling along the waterfront docks and plank walkways, Amber brought us an iced tea (I was trying to stay away from liquor for a little while after

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Liam shares the secret of Mango Margaritas with Toulouse

 surgery) and we selected their signature soup and salad: a honey roasted apple and butternut squash soup with mixed salad. “Roasting,” they say, “brings out the intense earthy sweet flavor of Valley apples and locally grown squash.” The added coconut milk added a silky texture. The salad that accompanied the exquisite thick soup consisted of tender baby spinach leaves tossed with smoked almonds, dried cranberries and various cheeses, topped with red onions and a citrous honey and poppy seed vinaigrette. The combination of sweet and tangy was refreshing and tasted of summer.

Dusk descended upon us and Nina announced that we needed to go indoors because her computer was running out of battery juice. I knew better: she was drawn by all the hollering and laughter inside; every time the door opened, raucous sounds of cheerful banter spilled out like honey ale. I checked the date: was it Thursday? Every Thursday the “Liars Club”—a small group of old salty guys—congregate at the bar and trade… well… lies. Nina would call that “storytelling”… :-3

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Toulouse's whiskers curl as he sips his Mango Margarita

We moved inside and Nina sidled to the bar where Mallory took Nina’s order of hot tea. She knew better than to order a coffee here after Switzerland! The coffee is ok—like most Nova Scotian coffee—but nothing like Swiss café crème. I recall that the Banker special coffee is pretty fine though. Mallory then made the “mistake” of making a mango

 margarita right in front of us. Seeing my interest she gave me a shot glass of leftover “tequila smoothy” (I think she liked me). Nina watched me drink it down. It was smooth and had just the right balance of liquor and mango mush to pack a sweet punch. My whiskers bristled with joy and Nina instantly ordered one for herself.

Mallory laughed apologetically. “I’m sorry, that was the last of the mango…”

Nina was crushed. Liam, the bartender, leapt to the rescue. He went to the storehouse freezer to get some and

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Anna and Toulouse commune...

 proceeded to defrost the very frozen mango mush. Nina got her drink. Liam, like several of the staff, is an accomplished musician and plays down the street along with an eclectic local group of singers, fiddlers and drummers. And speaking of…

We were soon joined by a crowd of young drinkers, who were eagerly debating how to create a new drink with Bailey’s and whether “straight up” was the same as “neat”. Seated at the bar, clustered in lively discussion were Steven, Amber, Mallory, Anna, Pat and Bubb. Pat works at the Mariner King, another fine dining establishment in Lunenburg with history dating back to the adventurous King William of England in the 1780s.  I was passed from one to the next and ended up on Anna Ludlow’s shoulder. Anna Ludlow is one of Nova Scotia’s rising stars, an energetic and scintillating fiddler in the Cape Breton Celtic style. After reluctantly surrendering me back to Nina, Anna invited us to the Old Fish Factory next Wednesday to watch her play the fiddle with the Junk Bucket boys. Bonus!

canadian 100 lunenburg w Eating and Drinking Our Way Through Nova Scotia: The Grand Banker in LunenburgAll said and done, it was a good day and a wonderful celebration… I’m Toulouse, the COOL Travel Cat… :-3

Here’s a cool fact: did you know that Lunenburg was featured on the back of the Canadian 100 dollar bill from 1975 to the 1990s? Here it is.

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Asparagus Season in Switzerland

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Spring pasture with Swiss cows near Arth

Springtime is a magical season. It’s a time when the Earth ”awakens” and forests, orchards and meadows spring into a riot of vibrant color.

In Switzerland—a land of dairy farms, milk, fine cheeses and chocolate—spring also heralds one of Nature’s most elegant culinary delights: the white asparagus, nicknamed “white gold” by Europeans and “sparrowgrass” by the British.

Nina and I were driving through Switzerland in April, at the height of “spargelzeit”—when chefs from all over the world import white asparagus from Germany, Switzerland and France (and now Britain too!). Practically every restaurant we dined in offered its own dish of white asparagus. Dishes varied from exquisite asparagus cream soup, to grilled, boiled or steamed asparagus served with Hollandaise, Café de Paris sauce, or melted butter. We were in asparagus heaven!

The white asparagus, once considered a luxury, is milder and more tender than the green asparagus and coveted by restaurants as the epitome of gourmet dining during its season (April to June). White asparagus needs a specific combination of soil, temperature

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White asparagus ("White Gold")

 and rain to develop its perfect taste. Dirt is mounded around the emerging stalk,  keeping out the light and the plant from producing chlorophyll, which makes a plant green.

The taste of asparagus defies description. It’s neither overwhelming or bland. When asked to describe its taste, most people stumble with words and metaphor appears to work best. One friend tried by describing what asparagus is not: such as sweet or sharp. When Nina pressed her, she described it as “clear”, an interesting term that resonated with a truth of sorts. But what the heck does “clear” really mean?

Asparagus was used from early times as a vegetable and medicine, owing to its delicate flavor and diuretic properties. It has anti-oxidant properties, can help prevent heart disease, stroke, possibly cancer and boosts energy. Ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans cultivated and ate it fresh when in season and dried the vegetable for use in winter.

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View of Lake Lucerne and Swiss mountains from Seelisberg

Asparagus is low in calories and sodium and contains no cholesterol. It’s a great source of vitamin B6, calcium, magnesium and zinc, and a very good source of dietary fibre, protein, vitamin A, vitamin C, vitamin E, vitamin K, thiamin, riboflavin, rutin, niacin, folic acid, iron, phosphorus, potassium, copper, manganese and selenium. The

amino acid asparagine gets its name from asparagus.

I didn’t mind that Nina got us thoroughly lost driving through the Swiss Alps (well, we weren’t ever really lost—I had a map; “Let’s try this road, Nina,” I’d suggest. ”Ok!” she would happily respond and cheerfully veer into the tiny one-lane road in the spirit of adventure). It seemed that at every scenic winding turn a tiny village emerged, and we found a restaurant or café that offered something with asparagus. Besides the obligatory café crème, we always ordered a dish with asparagus. For instance, in the little village of Merlischachen on Lake Lucerne, we had an exquisite Château Briand à l’argenteuil,

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Pork and morels with white asparagus at the Rossli

 (the French village of Argenteuil is renowned for its asparagus).  The asparagus was steamed with a delicate Hollandaise sauce, prepared by Werner Meier, chef of the Swiss Chalet.  The asparagus paired wonderfully with the robust 2005 Speri Amarone, a spicy rich and aromatic wine that lingered on the palate to form a complex and zesty marriage with the asparagus and the beef.

On a drive along the east shore of Lake Lucerne (Vierwaldstättersee), we discovered Rotschuo, a hotel/restaurant nestled in the craggy shoreline in Gersau. We sat on the patio and our waiter, Carsten, served us a Gebratenes Kalbsteak mit einer Sauce Hollandaise an frischen Spargel mit jungen Kartoffeln in der Schale (46 FCH). LOL! That translates to: veal and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce and young potatoes. We paired our meal with a hearty German wheat beer, a Hacker-Pschorr Weissebeir, which made Nina very happy.

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Toulouse about to devour a Pork steak with asparagus at Rotschuo

One of my personal favorites was the “spargel crèmesuppe” (asparagus cream soup). We were first introduced to this elegant soup by Werner Meier, chef of the Swiss Chalet, who surprised us with a tiny “Toulouse-size” cup at the beginning of the meal. Thick, faintly olive green and garnished with a froth of crème and parsley leaves, the soup was just enough to delight and tease the palate for more. Its faint earthy aroma filled my nose with the wholesome elegance of Mother Nature. What better way to celebrate the season of spring and the awakening of the Earth! We enjoyed the soup so much that the next day we ordered a full bowl each to go along with our escargots (another post!) and Speri 2005  Amarone wine, which made ME very happy… :-3

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Toulouse savors "spargelsuppe" at the Rossli

On another day, as we drove along one-lane country roads just east of Baar, we came across the village of Schönenberg and stumbled upon a wonderful hotel/restaurant run by Rita Bloesch, owner and chef of the Rössli. Rita is known for her fine grilled meats and barbeques and her inn is always packed with local farmers who like her beer and the ambience of the place; but, it was her spargel crèmesuppe (9.50 FCH) that particularly delighted my palate. As with the Swiss Chalet in Merlischachen, Rita’s soup was elegantly creamy with a full aromatic body that went extremely well with the fresh bread and tomato-butter and joyful Oeil-de-Perdrix Rosé de Pinot Noir we ordered to accompany it. We  returned to Rita’s restaurant another day and feasted on pork filets with morel sauce, steamed asparagus and baked new potatoes. I had to lick my whiskers after!

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Drive along the Wagetaler See

On yet another excursion to the Swiss Alps, I directed Nina to a “hidden lake valley” of enchanted forests and breathtaking views of craggy snow-covered mountains. There, we discovered a jewel: the Gasthaus StausseSee in Innerthal on the shores of the tourquise Wagertaler See. Nina and I sat on the outside terrace with a view of the sparkling lake. After several café crèmes (perhaps the best coffee I have ever tasted—and I’ve been to Paris!) we ordered the spargel crèmesuppe to go with our open-faced mozzarella-tomato sandwich and salad. We were delightfully surprised when Priska arrived with a huge bowl of thick soup. Was it the fresh alpine air? The breathtaking view? Nina’s jokes?… This thick and almost nutty soup was vigorously earthy. Its exquisite aroma sprang out with an elegant clarity that spoke of snow-covered mountains and a bracing breeze off an alpine lake. We’ll be back… :-3

Wine pairing with asparagus: Most sommeliers suggest a Chardonnay or Cabernet Sauvignon pairing with asparagus. “Brooklynguy

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Priska befriends Toulouse at the Gasthaus-Stausee

” says, “The biggest mistake is to pair asparagus with a fruit-driven wine, which means avoiding most American wine, and most new world wine in general. Asparagus are the anti-fruit, and they don’t work well with fruity wine. Please, whatever you do, be very careful mixing asparagus with rosé wine.” Nina and I proved that a carefully chosen rosé can provide a wonderfully complementary pairing with asparagus. The take-home message is be imaginative and adventurous. Try different wines you like. Try a Pinot, for instance. Then tell me what you think.

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner at the Montreal Airport

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Toulouse contemplates the toast at Moe's Deli & Bar

It started for me at 4 am on Sunday, when Nina snatched me off her writing desk and shoved me into her backpack (she isn’t very good at anything that early in the morning, so I’m lucky she didn’t drop me). our trip this time would take us from Halifax Airport to Montreal and finally to Zurich, where Nina was participating in a conference.  The flight to Zurich from Montreal would take us nine hours but our lay-over in the Montreal Airport was just as long!

The drive to Halifax Airport was uneventful (a good thing) through dense fog and that signature Nova Scotia darkness that makes star-gazing a wondrous activity. But this morning the fog patches enveloped us in a mystical gray sea of mist that obscured everything, including the stars and even the road (NOT a good thing). The fog was a dark organic beast that sucked in all the light, like an existential being in one of Nina’s SF stories.

We made it to the Halifax Airport with plenty of time to spare. Security was uneventful (a change from Nina’s usual pattern; see my earlier post on the singing customs official) and we had lots of time to relax and catch up on emails over a Starbuck’s coffee and chocolate banana bread (Nina ate most of it—you can’t leave chocolate in front of her unattended; with her karma, I bet she’ll come back in her next “life” as a Hershey bar). Our flight to Montreal was also uneventful (Thank the Universe!). I couldn’t believe it; Nina slept through the free snack and drink service!

When we landed in Montreal at 8 am, we had a 9 hour lay-over at the Pierre Elliott Trudeau Airport. Yeah, just

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Milcho assures Toulouse that the Coffee is Marvelous!

what I thought: brutal! Nina didn’t think so; she cheerfully surveyed the airport and settled in Moe’s Deli & Bar, where she set up her mobile office of two computers, notebook, and alien-pen. She was following my advice on the Zen of Travel! LOL!  

Milcho Markov, a friendly Bulgarian who spoke with a rich modulating accent, served us breakfast. He’d moved to Montreal seven years ago and enjoys its cosmopolitan atmosphere. Nina ordered the Enchilada dejeuner and she and Milcho discussed climate change, the Bulgarian countryside, computers, why Montrealers like books about Toronto getting “nuked”, and the merits of tap water. When he returned with the coffee, he deftly handed her a stack of serviettes— like he knew her propensity to spill. No surprise; within minutes, she knocked over the coffee cream in her storytelling exuberance and those serviettes came in very handy. I think Milcho was a shaman in another life. :-3

Or was it the little stain on her shirt that gave her nature away?…

Deciding that we’d lingered there long enough, Nina set up her mobile office at another bar and we ate lunch and dinner over several Corona Extras. At 5 pm we boarded the Swiss Air flight, which was right on time (it’s Swiss, after all :-3). That flight too was uneventful (also a good thing). Nina originally had an aisle seat, ideal for stretching one’s legs and meeting necessities. But then she felt sorry for the lady from Berlin in the middle seat next to her whose entertainment monitor was broken and Nina offered to switch seats. Nice but not smart. It was a

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Swiss Air plane

long flight. Nina didn’t seem to care; she’d discovered that the wine and liquor was free, and went hog-wild ordering a bazillion coffees and Baileys (she didn’t need entertainment; she was her own entertainment. And mine too…:-3).

We landed at 6 am on Monday morning at the Zurich Airport and took the train into the centre of Zurich City. Our final destination was the Alexander Hotel on Neiderdorf Strasse in the Old Town of Zurich.  But that’s another post…

I’m Toulouse, the cool travel cat. :-3

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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New York City: Art Up Close with Toulouse at the Met

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Toulouse in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

“Since we’re going to Central Park, let’s go to the Met too!” Nina said in joyous inspiration as I drank my espresso, unimpressed. I hadn’t agreed to go to Central Park and she already had us touring a museum! Wasn’t Central Park that black hole where innocent little animals disappeared? Nina isn’t renowned for her inner-GPS at the best of times. I had visions of us wandering its labyrinthine paths until dark engulfed us, trapping us there. Never mind the Met…

I just sipped my espresso without a word.

“Look!” she pointed at the brochure she was holding. “They’re showing the drawings of Bronzino!” She knew that would twig my interest, but I wasn’t biting. I didn’t look up and continued to sip in silence. Back in the 1500s, Bronzino was a painter, draftsman, academician, and enormously witty poet, who became famous as the court artist to the Duke Cosimo I de’ Medici in Florence. His sketches are evocative celebrations of lyrical sensuality.

So, don’t get me wrong… I’m Toulouse LeTrek, the cool cat, the cultured cat. A famous artist was named after me, after all. I visited le Musée d’Orsay

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Central Park in Winter in New York City

when I was just a kitten. I climbed the cobbled streets and steps of Montmartre to watch the artists paint. I used to scamper between the legs of up-and-coming artists, testing their balance and fortitude. I appreciate good art. But getting lost in Central Park to get there wasn’t my idea of a civilized tour.

But Nina had already observed that my coffee was gone and I was holding the cup just to stall. She grinned. Out came her blue backpack and in I went. POOF! (I hate it when she does that.) She darted out of our tiny hotel room in the Pod (a Euro-style hostel-like hotel) and took the subway to 86th  Street. From there we walked… and walked… and walked…

You get the picture.

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Springtime by Pierre Auguste Cot, Metropolitan Museum

We finally found the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the eastern side of Central Park at 1000 Fifth Avenue at 82nd  Street. Nina had her heart set on seeing the Roman and Greek sculptures on the first floor. I, of course, was eager to re-acquaint myself with my favorite Impressionist artists and the Bronzino drawings on the second floor. We agreed to separate and meet at the American Wing Café in two hours. Well, it sounded like a good idea at the time…

I made my way upstairs and first toured through the Bronzino exhibit. I then ambled along the B. Gerald Cantor Sculpture Gallery where Academic Classicist painter Pierre Auguste Cot’s splendid paintings, The Storm and Springtime hung. I had to linger for a time, breathing in his incredible use of light to evoke vibrant life, movement and intensity of presence. He’s one of my favorites; and that’s not just because he studied at l’Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Toulouse before going to Paris. :-3

From there, I entered the Annenberg Collection of 19th and Early 20th Century European Paintings, ranging from French Romanticism to Post-Impressionism. I wandered from gallery to gallery, peering at works by the likes of Manet, Degas, Pissarro, Renoir, Monet and Van Gogh.

I nosed up to them, appreciating the brashly visible brush strokes, open composition, and emphasis on light in its changing qualities. Impressionists often

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Sunflowers by Claude Monet at the Met

chose ordinary things to depict in their art, taking mundane scenes and portraying them from unique angles and giving them movement. The Impressionists captured the transient effects of sunlight by painting en plein air. They broke from tradition with short “broken” brush strokes of mixed and pure unmixed colour, not smoothly blended or shaded. Pissaro’s and Monet’s works, particularly, are good for studying the use of textured brush-strokes, using light to dapple, highlight, focus or diffuse. Impressionists painted with vivid light. They gave it a human emotion. One of the best places to see French Impressionist art is at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, but the Met has its share.

I’d parked myself in Monet’s gallery and was minding my own business, “communing” with La Grenouillère, Sunflowers, Rouen Cathedral, Path in Vetheuil, when a tiny shriek behind me broke my reverie. A young women and her daughter had discovered me!

“What a sweet stuffed cat!”

Had she no shame? No decency? I puffed myself up as best as I could and

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Toulouse discovered at the Met

offered her a cultured scowl. Didn’t she recognize me? I wasn’t just ANY stuffed cat. I was ”stuffed” with a dinner’s worth of escargots, mussels and spaghetti. I was Toulouse LeTrek, the COOL Travel Cat! Perhaps separating wasn’t such a good idea, I reflected, searching for the quickest way to escape as they approached me with covetous curiosity glinting in their eyes.

I scampered out of there and scurried downstairs–my little heart thumping like a drum–and looking for Nina. It was early yet and she wouldn’t be at the restaurant. Fearing other covetous people loitering at the café, I looked for Nina in the likely place: the Roman and Greek galleries. I found a very nice and safe “lady” to chill with and waited for Nina to find me; of course, she did.

All’s well that ends well.  I’m the COOL Travel Cat… :-3

Go to Toulouse’s page “Art Up Close with Toulouse” for more details and more articles like this one.

Photos by Nina Munteanu

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Toulouse safe with a Greek Muse at the Met

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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Toulouse and the City: Getting Lost in New York

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Walking in Soho, New York

We came to New York City in February to focus on the locals and the genuine atmosphere of a more relaxed New York. Is there such a thing as a “relaxed New York”? Well, okay, maybe I mean a more genuine and low-key New York (the February issue of “Time Out New York” features an article called “Find Your Calm: 81 Ideas for Relaxing in NYC). Nina and I spent a mere four days in NYC, but we packed in a life’s-worth of “relaxation”. :-3

It started with the Pod, a stark but clean hotel conveniently located on East 51st Street just off 3rd Avenue. If you don’t mind tiny “nouveau” hostel-style rooms with wee “cupboard” washrooms, this 1960’s style reasonably priced place is for you. The lobby was covered in Warhol-style pop art and avant-garde décor and the desk was manned by friendly and helpful staff. When we were there, the place was overrun by a group of exuberant young Brits who resembled Twiggy and Joe; it fit.

Another plus for The Pod is its neighboring French restaurant, Le Bateau Ivre, where Nina and I ate when we first

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The Pod on East 51st Street

arrived late in the evening. This authentic “French wine bar, raw bar and grill” gets its name, which means “The Drunken Boat”, from a poem by French poet Arthur Rimbaud.  Open from 8 am to 4 am (my kind of hours!), the bistro offers authentic French breakfast, lunch and dinner. Their cuisine includes raw and grilled seafood, meats and tartines (open-faced slices of Poilane-style country bread with a variety of toppings like pate, steak tartare, brandade—codfish and mashed potatoes, and—my favorite—croque monsieur). Run by friendly sommeliers, who can match your taste with just the right wine, the wine bar offers over 250 varieties of the finest French wines by the glass or bottle. We sat ourselves in the wine tasting bar and I ordered a Languedoc St. Chinian 05 Initiale Dom des Jougla. Nina asked the sommelier to “surprise her” with a red wine to match her mood and she ended up with a Bourgogne Pinot Noir (she was in a good mood, I guess). :-3

We were escorted to a table by the window and I ordered escargots from Ivan, our waiter from Russia, who is studying business management in the Bronx. Spasiba, Ivan! Nina ordered a Bouillabaisse, a traditional Provençal

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The bustling crowd of Le Bateau Ivre in NYC

fish stew originating from the port city of Marseille and we settled back in conversation. I enjoyed the cozy French culture around me that included original art work and décor, walls lined with wine bottles and a ceiling of revolving speckled lights. Nina suggested that we come back in the summer when they open their wall of doors for their uptown Euro-clientele (like me … :-3 ) and set up tables on the street for Al fresco dining.

On our first day-excursion in New York, we returned to Bryant Park and ate at the Grill—this time inside—where Nina had a drink at the bar (because it was so beautiful, she said) and I enjoyed a lovely lunch of crispy calamari with arugula, roasted corn, tomato and avocado with lime—cheerfully served to us by Eva, a Brazilian with a agreat sense of humour.

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Toulouse negotiates a bench in Bryant Park

We wandered through Midtown like locals, knowing each turn and street. On  some level, it felt like coming home. I can’t explain it; we’d been to New York only once before. But, if you’ve truly experienced New York and New Yorkers, you know what I mean. New York is bracing and New Yorkers opinionated,  stubborn and loud. They are also genuine and will go out of their way time and again to help you if you are in trouble. Just as with Parisians, you need to earn their respect first. If they perceive you as an equal, if you show the kind of buoyant energy and frankness they embrace and respect, then they will give you the gift of their honesty, genuine  warmth and unbridled kindness.

New York is a paradoxical and complex tapestry of grit and sophistication. It’s a cauldron of mixed genres, bursting with expression from the rappers in the subway to the dancers of Broadway. Its art ranges from the avant-garde splashes of Greene Street in Soho to the Impressionist strokes of the Metropolitan Museum.

Now, I know you’re asking yourselves how a little cat like me got such an in-

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Balthazar Bistro in Soho

depth perception of this complex city in a mere four days? Let me tell you my secret.  We lost ourselves to the city. It’s an art, how to get lost. The first thing you need to lose is your ego; because the fun part of getting lost is getting found—or letting New York find you.

Nina and I got lost in the subways. We lost ourselves in Central Park. And we lost ourselves in Soho (not a bad place to get lost—there are so many unique and interesting cafés, bistros and bars along the way). For example, take the Balthazar, a French-style oyster bar on Spring Street. The Balthazar offers a French menu prepared by chefs de cuisine Riad Nasr and Lee Hanson along with a raw seafood bar and breads and pastries from its bakery next door. The bistro was opened in the spring of 1997 by Keith McNally. Renowned for its French bistro design, the building was converted from a leather wholesaler’s warehouse to an airy space that can seat over 200 patrons. The bistro features authentic French décor and ceiling-high mirrors, creating an ambience of sophisticated bohemian dining and

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Toulouse savors oysters on the half-shell at the Balthazar

lively discussion.

Nina and I sat by the window and shared a beer with oysters on the half-shell from Massachusetts. We then ambled to the bakery next door—Ooh! Lala! Nina and I shared a hazelnut gateau opera (layered cake with hazelnut jaconde, ganache, hazelnut buttercream decorated with caramelized hazelnuts) and I just about died of happiness. :-3

We literally stumbled into the haute gallery section on Greene Street and while Nina stared at the abstract art, I found some exceptional shops on Prince Street. Flustered that she’d lost me (she should be used to it by now), Nina found me at The Smile on Bond Street, enjoying a cappuccino and chatting up the waitress who looked amazingly like Reece Witherspoon. The Smile used to be a boarding house that housed Swiss watchcase makers back in the early 1900s. It’s two doors down from the Gene Frankel Theatre, another converted old place with an amazing history. We ambled along Bleecker Street and then somehow ended up crossing the busy Houston Street into Noho without realizing it and found ourselves in another bar.  The bartender informed us that much of Soho and Noho consisted of old abandoned buildings that were renovated in the 1970s, many into artist’s

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The Smile in Soho

lofts and going for a cool $2000/month. New Yorkers were, according to our bartender, “a lot of angry busy people.” LOL! Sounds like my old home town of Vancouver! Just joking…

No trip to New York is complete without a close-up view of our lady, the colossal Statue of Liberty. Standing tall at 151 feet (her nose alone is 4 feet long), She is a majestic site, proudly lifting her arm high with the torch of enlightenment and holding the keystone of knowledge in the other.

Liberty was herself an immigrant. In 1865 a group of French intellectuals led by Edouard de Laboulaye, protesting the political repression in their own country, decided to honor the ideals of freedom and liberty with a symbolic gift to the United States. They commissioned Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (yes, that one) to design the colossal internal framework and Auguste Bartholdi sculpted her. She was shipped in pieces to New York and in 1886

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Nina and Toulouse approach The Statue of Liberty

stood as she does today on Liberty Island.

A good wander in New York is not complete without taking in its rich and varied architecture. Of course, we even conducted that in our own unique way; like walking innocently into Saint Patrick’s Cathedral on Ash Wednesday. New York is famous for its stunning art deco, beautifully featured in the Empire State Building (did you know that the spire at the top of the building was originally designed as a mooring mast for blimps? They gave it up due to too high winds), the Chrysler Building and buildings of the Rockefeller Centre.

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Dr Oz fields a question from Toulouse

Nina was so preoccupied with her photo-shoot that she let us get nabbed by Mike at NBC Studios to appear on the Dr. Oz Show (personally, I think Mike recognized me and wanted a celebrity in the audience to increase ratings). Guests included Joseph Mercola, Depak Chopra and Kathy Freston, all there to discuss alternative medicine with Dr. Oz. If you get a chance to watch that episode, look for me in the audience near the end of the show! I’m the one next to the idiot grinning from ear to ear (that would be Nina). The bottom line was “get Krill oil” (Dr. Mercola) and “listen to your body’s inner genius” (Deepak Chopra).

On our last day in NYC, we managed to get lost in Central Park (no mean feat, I guess—it’s HUGE!); we were looking for the statue of Balto. After an impressive tour of the Metropolitan

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Mike at NBC poses with Toulouse

Museum of Art and a wander through the Grand Central Station Market, we got lost on the subway again.

We celebrated our adventurous triumph over getting lost in New York with a drink at the Bull and Bear bar in the Waldorf while we waited to be seated in the restaurant. As Nina chatted with locals and networked with business people, I somehow ended up by the bronze statue, overlooking the entire bar. The manager took a shine to me and offered to show me the sights. Nina quickly told him that we were leaving the next morning and sighed when he returned me into her waiting hands. (She loves me, after all…) :-3

Boris, our young waiter (from Brooklyn) seated us beside an elegant lady who somehow recognized us as Canadians (was it my fur?) and opened what promised to be a lively discussion with a question: “So, what do you think of Sarah Palen?” LOL! She recommended the Dover Sole with asparagus (because it was guaranteed to be fresh and cooked to perfection). Its

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Toulouse befriends the bar manager at the Bull & Bear, Waldorf Astoria

sophisticated subtle flavor and texture was a special treat. Barbara Fox grew up in Manhattan (she currently lives near Central Park) and has been enjoying meals at the Waldorf for the past forty years; she treats all the waiters like her own sons—telling them off and berating them for not serving us faster (“We want Nina and Toulouse to come back, don’t we?” she challenged the head waiter)—and they respectfully dote on her in return (“Yes ma’am… no, ma’am…” grinning). And, yes, she is related to the founder of Fox Studios.

Did we discuss the making of a movie about my adventures, you ask… (sly smile)… I’m not telling…

I’m the cool travel cat…

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Barbara Fox smooches with Toulouse at the Waldorf

Photos by Nina Munteanu

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