My wife loves boardgames. I think it must be a genetic predisposition because, every holiday, whenever she and her sisters get together, they end up playing into the wee hours of the night, loosening such shouts, shrieks, and maniacal laughter that you’d think they were playing Scattegories: The Bloodsport Edition. I prefer to steer clear of any activities that require me to sing, dance, or fashion mythological creatures out of Play-Doh. All the same, I was suckered into participating last night. The game was called Cerebellum (or something). We played the lame Canadian version in which much of the trivia centered on Canadian culture (Ah, enforced culturalism, that pestilent scourge government legislation shoves down the throats of all Canadian citizens in everything from the magazines they read to the television they watch to, evidently, even the board games they play. But I digress. Let me pick this subject up in a future blog entry.). Anyway, between guessing at painfully insignificant milestones in Canadian history and attempting to gum the chorus of Stand By Me for my thoroughly bewildered partner, I bore witness to an extremely troubling incident. Now I’ve seen some pretty disquieting things in my life, but I’d hazard to say nothing quite as distressing as watching my 70-something mother attempt to imitate Donald Duck. That was it. I was done for the night.

Today, we hit probably the best place for smoked meat in Montreal: Smoked Meat Pete’s on the West Island. I had the special – a smoked meat sandwich, cole slaw, and their famed fries (fried, drained, and re-fried for maximum crispiness). When you order your smoked meat, you have a choice of having it lean or medium (although I suppose you could order it full fat if you’re so inclined). I usually go medium and today was no exception. The meat was exceptional – moist, well-marbled, and deliciously smoky.

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