Pyat and Teddog's Very Special Lunch Time Adventure
Today was finally the day. commanderteddog and I went on a very special lunch time adventure. There are photos!
But first... yesterday sassy_fae and nottheterritory showed up at my office door, and demanded I go to lunch with them. I tried to resist, but we ended up dining in the Officer’s Mess of the Nautilus.
I had a pulled pork sammitch!
Reflected in a pitted old mirror.
Curious expressions! They had pasta. Good company, and a pleasant surprise on a grey and stressful Monday. Thanks, guys.
Right, so, back to the very special lunch adventure. While I was at the convention, commanderteddog messaged me to tell me about a marvelous, magical new restaurant.
A restaurant that sold only poutine.
Poutine, for the Americans in my readership, is an enchanted Quebecois dish made of french fries, beef gravy, and cheese curds all mixed together in a delightfully greasy slurry. It is protein! It is the heavy fuel that Canadians need to run cool! The surgeon general eats it for breakfast!
We tried on two previous occasions to get there. One trip was stymied by a workload dump. The second attempt got us as far as the door, where we were faced with a huge line. We stared at it for a bit, and then an employee came out and placed a sign declaring the restaurant temporarily closed. They were overwhelmed by customers.
Our trip today was more successful. The place was crowded. It was standing room only, but we got through the line in under 15 minutes. Gosh.
Raw materials. There were just under 1000 lbs of potatoes. I counted!
The menu. commanderteddog got the “Montreal” (corned beef, mustard and a pickle in addition to the usual) and I ordered the “Country Style”, which featured bacon, chicken, mushrooms, and fried onions.
There were no free tables, so we took our steaming, greasy boxes of congealing wonder and scurried to the Sheraton Plaza…
… which has a nifty heated fountain…
…we made our way into the warm dimness of the PATH, found a table, and took our first look at the colon-punishing delights we’d purchased.
Mine!
Hers!
And lo, it was good. Though, curiously, I doubt I’ll have any desire (or ability) to eat poutine for several months to come. The cheering you may hear is coming from my aorta.
But our adventure did not end there, no sir! We still had to make it back to our respective offices. And there were things to explore en route. We zipped into the Eaton’s Centre, and decided to go to the highest publicly accessible spot, a strange little gallery set all by itself, apparently inaccessible.
“There’s only one direction in the faces that I see;
It’s upward to the ceiling, where the chamber’s said to be.
Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree.
They are pulled up by the magnet, believing they’re free.”
We went up and up, past parking garages and over a bouncy bridge…
View from the glass elevator. The crystal Christmas tree is back, and sparkly and green.
View from further up, from the old “Mews” level… but we’re nowhere near our goal!
commanderteddog, looking down on creation.
This is about as high as you can go without breaking the law. We had to walk through a tiny business college to get to this balcony. The only thing here is a one room gallery dedicated to some fairly ugly art by a single artist.
Teddog considering the roof, and legends of Urban Infiltrators who have scaled it.
Thus concludes Pyat and Teddog’s Fabulous Lunchtime Peregrination.
But first... yesterday sassy_fae and nottheterritory showed up at my office door, and demanded I go to lunch with them. I tried to resist, but we ended up dining in the Officer’s Mess of the Nautilus.
I had a pulled pork sammitch!
Reflected in a pitted old mirror.
Curious expressions! They had pasta. Good company, and a pleasant surprise on a grey and stressful Monday. Thanks, guys.
Right, so, back to the very special lunch adventure. While I was at the convention, commanderteddog messaged me to tell me about a marvelous, magical new restaurant.
A restaurant that sold only poutine.
Poutine, for the Americans in my readership, is an enchanted Quebecois dish made of french fries, beef gravy, and cheese curds all mixed together in a delightfully greasy slurry. It is protein! It is the heavy fuel that Canadians need to run cool! The surgeon general eats it for breakfast!
We tried on two previous occasions to get there. One trip was stymied by a workload dump. The second attempt got us as far as the door, where we were faced with a huge line. We stared at it for a bit, and then an employee came out and placed a sign declaring the restaurant temporarily closed. They were overwhelmed by customers.
Our trip today was more successful. The place was crowded. It was standing room only, but we got through the line in under 15 minutes. Gosh.
Raw materials. There were just under 1000 lbs of potatoes. I counted!
The menu. commanderteddog got the “Montreal” (corned beef, mustard and a pickle in addition to the usual) and I ordered the “Country Style”, which featured bacon, chicken, mushrooms, and fried onions.
There were no free tables, so we took our steaming, greasy boxes of congealing wonder and scurried to the Sheraton Plaza…
… which has a nifty heated fountain…
…we made our way into the warm dimness of the PATH, found a table, and took our first look at the colon-punishing delights we’d purchased.
Mine!
Hers!
And lo, it was good. Though, curiously, I doubt I’ll have any desire (or ability) to eat poutine for several months to come. The cheering you may hear is coming from my aorta.
But our adventure did not end there, no sir! We still had to make it back to our respective offices. And there were things to explore en route. We zipped into the Eaton’s Centre, and decided to go to the highest publicly accessible spot, a strange little gallery set all by itself, apparently inaccessible.
“There’s only one direction in the faces that I see;
It’s upward to the ceiling, where the chamber’s said to be.
Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree.
They are pulled up by the magnet, believing they’re free.”
We went up and up, past parking garages and over a bouncy bridge…
View from the glass elevator. The crystal Christmas tree is back, and sparkly and green.
View from further up, from the old “Mews” level… but we’re nowhere near our goal!
commanderteddog, looking down on creation.
This is about as high as you can go without breaking the law. We had to walk through a tiny business college to get to this balcony. The only thing here is a one room gallery dedicated to some fairly ugly art by a single artist.
Teddog considering the roof, and legends of Urban Infiltrators who have scaled it.
Thus concludes Pyat and Teddog’s Fabulous Lunchtime Peregrination.