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Off the Back Burner
Barry Lazar
Eating Out With Mr. BigI know food. I write about food. I cook food. I have eaten food all my life. But I've learned that, when it comes to the food department, I'm not a real pro. I used to think I was and then I met Robert Sietsema. more

Dining à la cartWhere does the “I love to munch” crowd lunch? Down at Club Price, a.k.a. Costco. Yes, our shrine to savings, the cathedral of quantity, the taj of tackiness, the weltshmerz of warehouses, is also Montreal’s weirdest dining experience. more

Two-Alarm ChickenIn my neighbourhood, the rites of spring don't start with the sighting of the first robin or the budding of huge silver maples that line our street. more

The Restaurant With No NameThe restaurant at the end of the universe has no name and no menu. It only serves lunch. It was a gift from the king of the mushrooms to his son. more

A Restaurant DiesThe pink and white awning on Sherbrooke St. still looks new. The words on it," Café Sunny buffet cuisine indienne et canadienne," have always promised more than this small restaurant could deliver; more, in fact, than any restaurant has ever been able to deliver here. more

Eating SealThe first question you will not have is about the wine; but it was one that occurred to me after I left Réjean Lachapelle's butcher shop, Gival, in the Atwater market with a quarter kilo of fresh seal meat. more

My Chinatown ConnectionSo . . . many months ago, I was in Chinatown chatting with Ben Top, a second-generation grocery store owner who does excellent Chinese BBQ. He has been my source for any small insight I have gained into Chinese cooking. more

Older is BetterMeat is back. Of course, it never went away. It was herded out of town during the fear-of-food epidemic. more

Gourmet PoutineWhat is the great culinary secret of Montreal's top chefs? Could it be the way Martin Picard bakes a succulent whole fish in a salt crust at Club des Pins? more

The Flavour of MontrealRemember that old song? You say pastrami, I say bindenfleisch; you say corned beef, I say old fashioned. Of course in Quebec we just say smoked meat and everyone sings the same tune. more

Barbecue and parksIn the dream, I am walking through a park and, like Pavlov’s dog, I start to salivate. I know why my mouth waters and what makes my nostrils quiver. more

All Dat JazzCome Friday evening, heaven might take the form of sweet riffs from Fathead with a grilled squash and chevre panini on the side. more

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