Montréal Mode | ​DAY 2: (Pt. 2) Schwartz's Deli, Place des Arts + Chinatown

Read Part 1 HERE !

"When are we going to eat the smoked meat?"
The reminder came in a timely manner. "Oh right." I thought, "Now would be great."

Departing from Jean-Talon to the bus stop specified on Google Maps, we embarked on the short trek under my lead. While the walk spanned no more than ten minutes, my travel companion constantly questioned my navigation abilities:
"Where are we even walking?"
"Where are you going?"
"When can we sit down?"
and more filled the air. Combined with slowed footsteps of uncertainty, the ceaseless complaints put an immediate damper on my once-explorative journey.

Similar to solo saunters about Toronto and Vancouver, there hadn't been a set itinerary. The disclaimer had been voiced on numerous occasions prior to the trip, intending to set the tone of travel. But alas, seemingly nothing could have relieved me from this grievance.

A full-blown argument would unfold at the Clark/Mozart bus stop, depleting what remained of my already strained vocal cords. Not until the bus neared the stop did the endless ringing in my ears come to a temporary halt.

Beyond boarding the Metro, I was also determined to attempt a trip on one of stm's bus routes. Connectivity and reliability of the overall transit network was of great interest to me, after all.

​​The bus would prove no different than that of a standard municipally-operated passenger vehicle. It was grimy, featured patterned cloth seating, and had stop ("Arrêt") buttons situated throughout. At the front of the bus was the fare payment tap platform. This platform was not observed by the rear door, differentiating between the all-door boarding option of the GTA and Metro Vancouver.
But perhaps the most obvious distinction was the announcement of upcoming stops in French, with not a lick of English to be heard at any point during the trip.

​We would disembark at Hôpital Hôtel-Dieu de Montréal at Rue Saint-Urbain. Heading east to the next major street of St. Laurent Blvd, we came face to face with Pharmaprix, essentially the province's equivalent of Shoppers Drug Mart.

Despite having never Googled its storefront, Scwartz's Deli was easily identified by the swarm of down jacket-clad supporters huddled outside. Even at the late hour of 2 PM, the renowned eatery boasted a lineup of about thirty people.

Navigating to the end of the queue, I noticed a second door also bearing the Schwartz logo. Drawing close, the interior revealed a much shorter lineup for takeout orders. The longer queue, while unsigned, was for dine-in customers only

Smoked Meat Sandwiches were listed on the takeout menu, motivating my joining of the ten-ish person lineup without hesitation. Majority of those around me spoke English - a welcome change! - and were overheard debating orders of fries and urging the purchase of pickles.
​
Within minutes, a man from behind the counter prompted me for my order. I relayed the request for one Smoked Meat 
Sandwich and two Pickles, for I had been unsure of their size.
"You can grab the pickles from the fridge." The man pointed to the wall behind me.
Turning around, I found sizable dill pickles crudely wrapped in blue plastic wrap. One was deemed sufficient; a $2.99 container of macaroni salad was selected instead of the second pickle. Both featured sticky, greasy surfaces.

​Posted on the Plexiglass barrier at the cashier was text about "cash" and "debit". In response to my initial vocalized panic, the customers in front assured me that the diner accepted all forms of payment. The middle-aged lady managing the checkout was likely the least amicable customer service representative encountered over the stay. Besides tossing wooden forks and napkins at me in a hurry, she displayed obvious annoyance when asked to change the payment method. Her irked nature almost led me to feel apologetic for faults I did not make. The attitude, along with her proficiency in the English language, was telltale of Schwartz's popularity amongst non-French speakers and locals alike.

​Clearly, we weren't the only ones from out of town. English, Cantonese, and Mandarin were heard for the first time since our arrival. OVO and Canada Goose outerwear were also witnessed forming part of the dine-in lineup.

​Parchment-wrapped sandwich in one hand and macaroni salad in the other, I retreated back into the single-digit outdoors for the grand unveil.

​Encased between two slices of soft white bread was an abundance of smoked meat, tinged with smears of mustard, glimmering amaranth in hue, and still steaming.

Had the same specimen been acquired in other parts of the nation, I'd expected an excess of sodium and dry, dense slabs of carbohydrates. But this sandwich was none of that. The bread was plush and porous, while its crust just structured enough to deliver toothsomeness. The mustard was tangy and only slightly pungent. The pickle delivered a refreshing bite of acidity. Most importantly, the smoked meat was delectable: flavourful without being salty, but smoky all the same.

Suffice to say, the Montréal signature was positively phenomenal! Gratifying as it was economic, the composition was truly an item to be slotted in a league of its own.

The Smoked Meat Sandwich and Pickle duo were devoured in a matter of minutes. Stomachs having attained capacity, the Macaroni Salad was stashed away for later consumption.

​Continuing southbound along St Laurent Blvd, our gaze fell upon a number of local boutiques, unusual murals, and the unexpected sighting of a fire truck trio.

​Although revealing itself a comprehensively fashionable city, I was surprised to find a shortage of independent apparel retailers.

The storefront of Le Cartel was arguably reminiscent of Risqué on Bloor Street. It sparked intrigue - a possible outlet for local trends.

​Primarily comprised of streetwear items, the brand blended the in-your-face, graphic print-adoring nature of Toronto with the fuss-free, solid colour approach of locals. The shelves were lined with ribbed toques and colour-block zip-ups, while its shelves contemporary artwork pieces. Speaking generally, the prices were relatively affordable - comparatively more budget-friendly than Queen West and the Ossington strip.

​With minimal establishments of interest, we headed into Café Starbucks to ponder the next course of action.

Washrooms were locked with a keypad (25896 at our time of visit). The addition wasn't foreign, but did spark concern regarding the security of the neighbourhood.

​​Opting to gradually meander back to downtown, I led the way back to Rue Saint-Urbain to board the 55 Bus. It was along this segment that we observed on-street cycle tracks integrated with permit parking.

​In contrast to our earlier trip, the next 55 bus arrived nearly full. It wasn't until passing UQAM that movability was regained with the exit of post-secondary students for the University of Quebec at Montréal.

The driver sped along. His behaviour incited some wariness that we'd miss our desired stop, thus I was quick to depart shortly after breezing by the twinkly outdoor scene of Place des Arts.​

We somehow arrived at the entrance to IGA. There, I found Le Petit Dep's coffee beans being retailed at two dollars less than their physical café.

The doors of IGA permitted entry one way, consequently obligating that we reroute for street level access.

​Unbeknownst to us were holiday events taking place at Place des Arts. The retail building was decorated lavishly with trees and flickering LEDs. Situated at the concourse level were performances, photos with Santa with a Frozen-esque backdrop, and even a merry-go-round.

​The first floor included additional installations and even a "Petit Train" for children.

​Removing ourselves from the bustling scene, we entered out onto René-Lévesque Blvd.

​Trodding south of the Saint-Urbain and René-Lévesque intersection would lead us past banks at three corners, then directly into Chinatown.

​Shockingly small was the district, for I had anticipated nearly all ethnic neighbourhoods to be as expansive as that of Toronto and Vancouver. Walkability was upheld, though, with level grey tiling that would put our settled concrete sidewalks to shame.

​Pâtisserie Harmonie was the first stop, my bookmarked destination for 排包 (pai bao).

​Though I had originally scoffed at the idea of hunting down Asian offerings in the city of Euro-centric cuisine, regular intake of medication led me to cravings for classic Cantonese buns.

Pâtisserie Harmonie satisfied this yearning sufficiently. Unlike bakeries back home, the shelves were still adequately stocked in the late afternoon hours. Patrons could take their pick of pineapple buns, puffs, egg tarts, rolls, and even mixed dough cookies.​

​The menu hoisted above the cashier also informed of beverage options such as coffee and milk tea. Residing in their refrigerated display case were even Chinese-style Bûche De Noël cakes, complete with the plastic reindeer and pine trees that characterized my childhood memories of Christmas dinner.

​Our selection would span the following:

• 排包/Pai Bao, otherwise known as a Plain Brioche Loaf
• Coffee Bun
• BBQ Pork Bun
• Almond Chocolate Cookies
• Langue de Chat Cookies

The cookies were remarkably, dare I say, cheap at their given price point. Any eight-pack of butter cookies would have set me back at least nine dollars after tax in today's economy. In contrast, the buns were pricier, ringing in at a whopping three dollars apiece. Our total came to $25.55, the equivalent of ten or more buns in the GTA.
They were all quite scrumptious though, as expected of a French-dominant community. Although the 排包 did not embody the signature brioche-like fragrance and properties I had been lusting for, my cravings were satisfied all the same. The Almond Cookies were on the drier side, but showcased a rich cocoa content with mild bits of crunch.

Other highlights of the neighbourhood included Sun Yat-sen (孫中山) Park and exclusive collections from CoCo and Yi Fang.

Admittedly, Sun Yat-sen Park appeared more eerie than we would have liked. We strode by the monumental attraction thrice before managing an unobstructed shot of the landmark. The grounds were occupied by the homeless and the hunched over, causing litter and unidentifiable fluids to randomly appear.

​Four traditional arches marked the boundaries of Chinatown: René-Lévesque Blvd to the north, Viger Avenue to the south, Rue Saint-Urbain to the west, and Saint Dominique St to the east.

Astonishing to me was the sheer scarcity of food options in the area. Dumpling houses, hot pot restaurants, bakeries, pho joints, and accessory stores were present, but adopted a reduction in scale. Seating was limited, if available at all. In addition, businesses along St. Laurent Blvd were mostly shuttered. Trash-strewn side streets deterred us from dwelling any longer.

With daylight gradually dimming to dusk, we passed through Sakura Garden and the Chinatown Gate, entering back into central downtown.

Read Part 3 HERE !