My parents met over a dissected frog.
Both of them were studying at McGill University in Montreal. My father Melville Schachter was attending the Faculty of Medicine. My mother was studying biology and zoology. Read more…
You don’t have to search for my favourite food finds. They are readily available.
Food is a universal connector. Therefore, this blog post is about much more than food.
The global pandemic we’re living through is a mass trauma. I’ve been up and down for the past year. I sometimes have cabin fever and feel like a captive in my own home. I have floating anxiety, sometimes bordering on panic. But there’s an upside for me to these surreal and turbulent times. In a nutshell, I have slowed down. Read more…
When my younger daughter Ruth was growing up, we had several dining out rituals.
For much of the ’90s, Friday night meant dinner at Bar Italia located on the College St. strip of Little Italy. The attractions were many: Plain pasta for her with only butter and a dusting of parmesan, a glass of robust red wine for me along with roast chicken or grilled steak. Foccacia dipped in olive oil laced with chilies or the excellent antipasto were mandatory starters.
Perched on stools at the bar, we became fixtures and favourites with bartenders Steven, Giuseppe and Mark. Ruth’s Shirley Temple-ish beverage came printed on our bill as “1 Ruthie.” Read more…
