Pinq Taco

Click through for their website.

 

It’s no secret that I often prefer to go out in the gay village, especially when it’s just my lady roommate and I. It’s no secret, too, that one of the reasons I prefer that neighborhood is because when the men are locked in an aggressive pursuit, it’s usually with each other. But even then, both she and I have experienced unwanted, intimidating, awkward advances and flat out rude men in these environments; it was actually because of an experience in an ostensibly gay club that we invented the ‘rescue me!’ hand signal we use to this day, two years later.

It has come in extremely handy on the rare occasions we’ve gone clubbing on St. Laurent, the Prince Arthur portion of which is kind of notorious for prowling undergrads, many of whom leave their manners in the bottom of their fourth drink.

So I was a little bit guarded when we decided to go out last night, to this very area. The last time we visited and went to a club, it was a circus.

But we had decided we felt like something fancier than a pub, but not quite a club, so we settled on the perfect middle ground of a lounge. There are several very close to each other on St. L, including GoGo Lounge and Pinq Taco, which we’d heard of and seen. We breezed by GoGo, glanced in, but didn’t feel the music that was coming out.

As we passed by Pinq and tried to scope the inside, we saw that the front windows were covered by curtains. We’d been in there once before and had a decent time, but it had been closed (to our knowledge) for a while and we weren’t certain if it was revamped or not. While we hesitated on the sidewalk, a well-dressed young man ushered us into the lounge with polite invitations and promises of a good time. I forget what this guy’s job is called, but he did it well — we found ourselves in the lounge in no time flat, and very soon one of the other men at the door came in and introduced himself, and quickly arranged for a shot and a mixed drink on the house to get us started. It’s the kind of treatment you see on HBO.

The drinks were excellent. As the waiter explained, at Pinq, they don’t do their tequila shots with lemon and salt, but with a slice of orange. The tequila was smooth, and the orange was a much gentler follow-up that really made more sense than the song and dance of salt and lemon to cover up bad tequila which leaves you grimacing anyway. The tom collins cocktails were also perfectly balanced in strength and flavor.

First impression: very, very solid.

It was quiet in there at first — maybe 30 people at 11:00 — but as we sipped our drinks and had a great conversation with one of the waiters (who also took care of our bags for us, and personally ensured we were having a good time), people filled in rapidly.

The next thing we knew, we were on the crowded floor, dancing away. We’d bought ourselves some gin and tonics (delicious cucumber gin and tonics, I might add), but once we finished those we were presented with free cranberry vodka shots and then a free gin and tonic.

That’s two free cocktails and two free shots for two girls, on the house, just for being new faces. They know how to dish out the V.I.P. treatment at Pinq; that alone is impressive, when the party population on St.L can keep most places afloat without them having to bother. No door charge and no coat check charge seems to be their policy, at least if you arrive a little early.

It wasn’t just the drinks, or the great staff. The attitude of the crowd really impressed me as well. It was very crowded in there, but everyone was extremely polite when they passed by you or bumped into you. The men that came to speak to my roommate and I were good-looking, friendly, and amusing, and above all, respectful. The women there were pretty and convivial, complimentary of fellow girls dancing and having a good time. There were girls dancing up on the bar before the night was through, and no one grabbed them or copped a feel even as they poured champagne down into the mouths of the dancers on the floor. People were ordering bottle service, and waiters swam by with buckets above their heads, sparklers sticking out and firing away like shooting stars over the dancers. The air smelled deliciously of humans and fireworks.

The quality of the mixed drinks didn’t go down as the bar staff worked harder, and they seemed able to get to everyone in a timely manner, passing drinks around the legs of the ladies dancing. People were dressed in all sorts of ways, from clubgoers slicked back to the nines, to college guys in more understated plaids, but the vibe was homogenous and the music was great, with enjoyable remixes of popular earworms that had people shouting and dancing and drinking.

As things wound up to 3 o’ clock, we decided to beat the exodus rush out the door by a little bit. Our feet were killing us, too. As if by psychic powers, our waiter found us and asked how we were doing. We thanked him warmly and he retrieved our purses for us, sending us out into the night with a smile.  We passed by a lineup outside the door; I can see why people would wait to get in there.

We ended up walking barefoot down Sherbrooke, our heels in our hands because our feet were just done for the night. That’s usually a sign of a good time.

I haven’t felt so excited about going back to a place in ages. Usually lukewarm interest or ambivalence about an establishment follows a night out, but not with Pinq Taco. It’s a place I very much want to experience again, with even more friends in tow. It’s the sort of place where you feel happy to spend your time and, moreover, your money. Fishing around for a good venue for the inevitable ‘Marri Got a Job’ party, Pinq Taco seriously puts itself in mind.

I’ve heard it said that Pinq Taco is where the party’s at. Friday nights? You bet.

Creamy vegan maple bacon orzo

Some stock photo orzo. Uncooked. Wouldn’t you like to do something special with it?

You may have noticed that it’s been quiet around here lately. There’s been a lot to get me thinking — criminal profiling of students, continual let-downs by the Canadian government and the environmental destruction it will entail, crisis overseas and religious gains in a 21st-century world still largely attempting to recover from the hangover of enforced religiosity, just for starters — but such big topics are hard to take a little bite out of, and there are already much more knowledgeable voices out there chewing the fat.

My own life? Well, I’ve finished teaching an “incidentally vegan” Cooking 101 course, and I hope to share some tips and resources from that with you soon. I had the opportunity to do a little playtest over at Eidos, but a confidentiality clause keeps me from speaking to that. I’ve interviewed for 2 jobs (finally!) and while one is very promising both in terms of my odds and the workplace and salary package, I’m hanging on a tightrope and about to possibly make some very chaotic life changes if things don’t go well.

So today, I decided to treat myself to a little special dinner rather than going out to eat as I’ve been doing far too often, what with Montreal in full summer festive swing. I’d never made this before, and followed no recipe, but it turned out so delicious I just had to share it with you. Food centers us, rewards us, nourishes us, and I feel like this little dish does a good job of all three.

Ingredients

1 small yellow onion

5 strips Tempeh ‘smoky maple meatless bacon’

12 oz. soft silken tofu (1 packet of Mori-nu soft silken tofu)

1/2 cup original unsweetened rice or almond milk (I used rice)

5 brown mushrooms (or if you want to treat yourself, equivalent portion of portobello)

225g dry orzo (1/2 of those little packs you can buy)

A bit of your favourite vegan butter substitute

Salt

Pepper

A few pinches of Italian spice (or thyme would work nicely)

 

Directions

1. Get a big pot and fill it with 2L water. Salt lightly, and turn on high heat to boil.

2. Dice your onion fine.

3. Heat some butter in a deep saucepan over medium heat, and add your onions to caramelize them. Meanwhile, dice your mushrooms.

4. When the onions are caramelized, add your mushrooms and be sure to poke about with a spoon. Don’t want anything to burn. While those cook, dice your tempeh bacon strips.

5. When the mushrooms are soft, add your bacon strips. Around this time, your water should be boiling, soooo…

6. Add the dry orzo to the water. Make sure to occasionally stir, as even though there’s a good water-to-orzo ratio, orzo has a tendency to stick to the bottom of the pot. Keep it at a rolling boil.

7. Once your tempeh bacon is cooked (which doesn’t take long), lower the heat under your saucepan to low, and let the ingredients and the pan cool down a little. Now, add your packet of soft silken tofu IF you have a magic bullet handheld blender, don’t mind  pouring the sauce into a blender and doing it that way, or if you don’t care if your sauce is smooth or not. Alternatively, you can blend the tofu before adding it.

8. Stir everything in the saucepan and add your splash of rice or almond milk, as well as your seasoning(s). I recommend you magic bullet it at this stage if you intend to do so. (I did — and I poured the pan’s contents into a deeper bowl just to be careful about splashes because I’m a klutz, so you may want to do that too.)

9. Check your orzo with a little taste test; it should be soft. Strain it with a mesh strainer so none of the little bits escape. Return the orzo to the big pot you cooked it in, and pour the sauce over top. Stir, serve, and enjoy!

The ratio of sauce-to-orzo worked out perfectly when I did it, and so it should if you follow this recipe — if you like your orzo saucier or less saucy, then by all means pour your sauce carefully and save the extra for fettuccine another night.

I recommend serving this with some steamed vegetables or garlic sauteed kale or spinach on the side for a nutritionally balanced meal. (Or you can just binge on the orzo like I did).

 

The future of naturopathic medicine in Quebec: debate report

Earlier this month, I attended an event hosted by the Quebec Association of Naturopathic Medicine as part of their week-long series of free events. The event, a two-hour mediated debate between Dr. Joe Schwarcz and Mr. André Saine (representing institutional medicine and naturopathic medicine, respectively), was designed to examine this two-pronged question: “Should naturopathic medicine be regulated as a primary care service in Quebec, and should naturopathic doctors have a full scope of practice?”

Currently, naturopathic medicine is a-legal in Quebec, meaning it is neither properly addressed in law codes, nor described as specifically illegal. This limbo state is frustrating for all parties concerned, I understand.

The dialogues between institutionalized medicine and fringe medical practice are something I have a keen interest in hearing, for a number of reasons. Naturopathic medicine’s sudden boom in popularity and public attention has had a deep impact on my relationship with certain family members, to begin with; and as a student of the history of medicine, I’m both knowledgeably equipped about, and philosophically interested in, these points of dispute.

What unfolded in the Stewart Biology Building what I had come to expect after years of seeing very similar debates unfold online. This was unfortunate; I attended thirsting for a new angle, and honestly, a new approach by the underdog in the debate. I wanted to be able to report on an enlightening and meaningful debate, and I wanted to see naturopathic medicine moving forward in its self-framing; unfortunately, I saw much of the detrimental same-old. It’s disappointing to see old, well-worn grooves being run through by the same problematic wagon wheels again and again.

The debate question quickly dissolved under the format of Mr. André Saine’s point-counterpoint, which came across as more of a sales pitch and a defense of naturopathic medicine than a discussion of its future in society. I was genuinely surprised by the strength of some of the language Mr. Saine used in what was supposed to be a collaborative debate; he repeatedly stated that “conventional medicine is (likely) the greatest delusion of modern times.” Inflammatory hyperbole is good for entertainment, but less so for credibility.

Some other remarks that really devalued Mr. Saine’s position and legitimacy as a supposedly educated authority included the use of highly subjective assessments (e.g. “wise” vs. “misguided” / “harmonious” vs. “disgraceful to human nature”) to compare naturopathic medicine to institutional medicine. In his list of reasons why naturopathic medicine should be included under healthcare, he cited ‘vox populi’ (“the voice of the people”). This is a classic logical fallacy in arguments seeking to legitimize a popular but not-yet-recognized movement; it’s also known as the “bandwagon appeal,” which says, in essence, “because a lot of people want it / are doing it, it should be legitimized.” One merely has to ask about the comparatively large numbers of people who don’t want to see naturopathic medicine included (why are we ignoring their bandwagon?), or how this appeal would function in issues like public health and smoking cigarettes (if the bandwagon is about to go off a cliff, do we want to get on it?), to understand that it has no place in logical debate. Mr. Saine also drew upon anecdotal evidence, repeatedly, to which I simply say, in the words of Roger Brinner: “the plural of anecdote is not data.”

These are key problems in the way naturopathic medicine is presenting itself, and I really wish the movement would address these issues that keep holding it back from being regarded as a legitimate part of Canadian health care. Subjectivity, appeals to popular sentiment, emotion-based arguing, and appeals to unstudied example don’t hold water in debates about healthcare efficacy. They rally public support really well, but the public ultimately doesn’t sit on health legislative councils, because they aren’t trained in the critical reasoning and medical knowledge essential to make informed policy decisions.

I also must object to Mr. Seine’s abuse and misunderstanding of medical history. As a radical-leaning historian, I’m very much in support of deconstructing established historical narratives to challenge power-knowledge structures. I don’t want to write or promulgate history that unquestioningly supports the idea of objectivity the scientist’s perfect weapon; social scientists and historians have shown that narrative to be questionable.

But Mr. Saine seems to have merely presented cherry-picked examples that support his case, while misunderstanding the position his examples had in their historical context, and therefore why they’re irrelevant or problematic to use in the context of his present debate. He claimed that a particular study on the use of water-only fasting to cure hypertension was unique in the history of medicine; given a few hours, I’m fairly certain I would be able to find other examples that suggest otherwise, and, I suspect, which would call into question the results of the study he cited. (Perhaps I’ll look this up later, to be sure. It can be the case that a critical study is overlooked by medicine at large due to the context of its publication; Dr. Schwarcz wasn’t aware of it, as well.)

At one point, Mr. Saine dodged an audience question which really called into doubt his scientific knowledge of the body’s pH level regulation, in connection with his discussion of the acid-alkaline modality that’s currently popular. It did not win him any converts in the scientific crowd, who, I believe, came with open minds to hear about policy, not fallacious arguments made by someone who believes in homeopathy, which has no tenable evidence behind it. Considering Mr. Saine continuously emphasized that naturopathic practitioners receive the same basic medical training as doctors, this placed doubt on the quality of that training or at least in the necessity of its upkeep in the professional practice of naturopathic medicine.

Mr. Saine was, I think, not the best choice to represent QANM or naturopathic medicine itself. In addition to sweeping, inflammatory statements, he utilized faulty logic in his attacks on conventional medicine at the same time as he attempted to haul naturopathic medicine up to its level of social legitimacy. Furthermore, his entire manner of debate was off-putting; he was prone to emphasize his points by banging his fist on the debate table, and spoke quickly through controversial points, appearing to brush them off. I was also unimpressed that the members of the audience who were in support of Mr. Seine and naturopathic medicine repeatedly broke the rules of audience observation in debate to boo and hiss certain points made by Dr. Schwarcz, even yelling out injunctions on occasion.

As much as I kept my ears open for unjust jests or problematic claims on Dr. Schwarcz’s part, I couldn’t find anything as objectionable, and was genuinely puzzled at what remarks provoked scorn. Certain remarks, however much I desire to believe in them, provoked a little skepticism from me – namely that there are no conflicts of interest between money, doctors, and drug corporations. Perhaps these conflicts are minimized, and perhaps Canada functions better than America on this front, but articles I’ve read lately from credible sources have planted some doubt in my mind. Nevertheless, he rightly pointed to the money and time that’s been spent on investigating the claims of some things lumped in problematically with CAM* (homeopathy, aura massage, crystal healing, often naturopathy, etc.), and charged naturopathic practitioners with the question: why do you practice this – or – why do you tolerate these discrediting pseudoscientific pursuits in your field?

Mr. Saine didn’t answer. I, myself, would really like to know.

*Complementary and Alternative Medicine.

I was surprised that neither debater brought up the examples of other provinces which have included naturopathic medicine in care plans. My home province, British Columbia, has insurance plans that cover naturopathic medicine under general health care for some time, and naturopathic practitioners in B.C. have access to pharmaceutical prescription rights and publicly-funded labs. I would be curious to see how these inclusions have, or have not, met the expectations of all parties involved: legislators, doctors, naturopathic practitioners, taxpayers, and interested patients. Or, how about the Chinese example? Traditional Chinese Medicine exists alongside and conjunction with western medicine in China, and increasingly on the west coast of North America, but its strengths and weaknesses in integration were never brought up.

Sigh.

Botanical medicines are great. Individualized, caring healthcare with strong doctor-patient relationships is great. But paying tax money for things like homeopathy and ‘chi balancing,’ etc., is not great; nor is legitimizing these unscientific and even risky types of panaceas a service to health-seekers. It’s clear that present-day healthcare has reached an impasse it is struggling to move beyond, and I think many facets that naturopathic practitioners exemplify should be paid more attention to by doctors. However, I’m still not convinced that integrating natropathic medicine is a good idea until these legitimate points have been further divorced from the hocus pocus and ascientific passion of a lot of parts of the movement. It seems like the ideal naturopathic practitioner is really just a GP with ideal office hours, and a better integration of psychology, botanical medicine, lifestyle planning, and nutrition. That’s something I could get behind. But if there’s an inclusion of vitalism or spiritualism as the core component of the medical practice, I feel it falls out of the purview of a secular society’s taxpaying responsibility. In any case, a critical clarification and re-brand is needed, as are more studies that are persuasive in scientific rather than anecdotal terms.

That’s, unfortunately, all that I took away from this specific debate. My mind is still open, but I didn’t find anything to surprise or sway it from skepticism that night.

The “real” cost of tuition in Quebec?

I saw a person I follow on Twitter, Jeromie, post – or re-post from Facebook, in agreement(?) – something called, “The Real Cost of Tuition in Quebec (SPOILER ALERT).”

The title tipped me off to what the general message of the piece would be (SPOILER ALERT: the Quebec studentry is spoiled and should just shut up and this is why!), and when I clicked through, my irritated suspicions were confirmed.

I didn’t want to say anything about it. For quite some time, I tried to ignore it, but it kept coming back and getting under my nailbed. Finally, when someone posted a comment that bought the post hook, line, and sinker, I realized I had to speak up, to at least explain my understanding of why the math was wrong. Others have addressed similar points, and probably more eloquently, yet still I felt I should try and get across why a simple tally like that cannot and should not be used as an argument against the students of Quebec, offering my perspective as an outsider from this province who worked throughout undergrad, yet who is about to face monthly loan repayment bills that are higher than my rent. I’m certain the Quebec students are aware they have it good, and want it to remain that way.

Sometimes I feel, with feelings informed by frequent readings of comments sections on national media posts concerning this, that youth is being villainized, portrayed as having a sense of entitlement. Yet I imagine that if any other group were targeted for a 75% fee increase on necessary services like this, even if it left them better off than comparative groups in other provinces, there would be less smirking and condescension.

In any case.

Note that the following remarks are only really applicable to the atmosphere pre-Loi 78, at which point the protests became as much (or even more) about defending everyone’s civil rights as they ever were about ‘simply’ tuition. Note too that the student response is a position which numerous pundits and even the Bar Association of Quebec have supported.

My comment ended up getting rather long, so I thought I’d be better off posting it here as a general reflection. I recommend you read the post I’m responding to, first.

———————————

I can’t speak to the tax breaks specifically, because I’m a B.C. student studying in Quebec who hopes that the students here won’t be burdened with the same $40k debt while emerging into a dead job market after acquiring a university degree that’s now considered a necessary prerequisite to be competitive in that same job market. But I must ask…
Where is the figure of $10,880 in a summer acquired?
Summer weekends = Saturday/Sunday shifts of 8 hours a day over 3 months = 192 hours over the summer  = $56.66/hr to make $10,880. That is NOT the average undergraduate wage.
So, let’s assume the student is working throughout the weekdays in the summer; in order to make $10,880 for a summer (typically 3 months, June-Aug, by the time they secure a job in this market), they need to earn $3,626 per month. I have a MA and I’ve never earned that much in one month in my life, certainly not throughout undergrad. At $10/hr (net),* that’s 362 hours a month, or 51 hours a week if they work all 7 days of the week.
*Note that minimum wage in Quebec is $9.65 an hour, actually.

I really don’t see how this represents the average.
Furthermore…

If they’re living at home, they’re probably commuting into the downtown core, which means they’re paying out of their wages for a metro pass as well as for food while on the job — and probably coffee too, as 51 hours a week will be very tiring. These costs add up, and take away from any savings pool they may have.
If they’re not living at home, well, they have rent, groceries, and bill, plus those work-associated costs to consider.  Never mind a little thing called having fun once in a while, plus cosmetics and clothes to be presentable at work.

Note too that a BA doesn’t cost what is quoted here; McGill’s own site lists the fee as $3,731.42 for 30 credit hours during Fall/Winter 2011-2012, during which it’s unlikely the student will be able to acquire or sustain gainful employment without watching their grades suffer — this is an important consideration for those bound for law school, med school, technical school, or grad school in their field. So now, that hypothetical summer-earned $11k has to suffice the student as savings for the entire year of living costs; it’s not just as a once-earned tuition-payout. If the student can’t hold a job for whatever reason, or is unable to secure a job, they’re living $7k below the poverty line and have to take out student loans at 3.50% interest.

The costs of other degrees, which are historically considered employable, like the sciences, can cost more and are still producing unemployed graduates while the government cuts the jobs and while Charest’s generation demographics occupy the seats remaining, so this isn’t just an “art student thing.”
Budgeting on paper is hardly the same as living through an individual financial reality, which hasn’t been accounted for in the article. Also note that these figures are for 2011, and not for the new tuition proposed under Charest’s 75% increase. If it still seems sweet, it’s probably because it is, and Quebec students would like their tuition to remain within reach rather than being a debt sentence like the rest of Canadians. Note that national student debt is a bubble that’s threatening to pop, which serves no citizen’s interest in the long run. It’s about national fiscal health as much as individual problems.

In the end, this “evidence” which attempts to paint the student movement as the unjust, unwarranted complaining of a group of financially comfortable students misses the reality and the point entirely. It’s not merely about the bottom line, but the principle of raising tuition on the wallets of students to account for inflation when: 1. There are other sources of this income 2. Charest’s plan proposed that one incoming class of students, who would not be able to plan for the 75% increase in time to budget 3. The quality of education has NOT increased in many departments, but has gone down and left students with fewer bursaries, and fewer skills while entering a challenging job market.

This is a complicated issue that can’t be addressed using just math on paper, and speaks more to the bad attitude of whoever concocted this budget than the reality of the situation.

I wish students in B.C. had stood up when they were repeatedly made to foot the bill.

Unnecessary Force

The protests continue, days after Charest’s Liberals announced the creation of Loi 78, a bill intended to clamp down on the ability of Montreal’s citizens to continue exercising their civil right to peaceful protest. This comes after three months of ongoing off-and-on protests, where the last 25 or so consecutive nights have seen a manifestation take to the streets.

I like that French word, manifestation. Somehow, a “protest” seems either quaintly British (“sir, I do protest!”) or it comes loaded with violent connotations. But a manifestation is precisely that: a manifestation of the will of the people, a visible anti-vote in the public sphere. And in response to the heavy-handed Loi 78, respected voices that have been just murmurs until now have piped up in strong objection of this bill and its threat to civil liberties.

Jean Lapierre said of the bill: “It’s like using a bazooka to kill a duck.”

It’s an apt similie, and one that’s not limited to the board rooms of government right now. It’s out on the streets, epitomized in the routine behavior of the Montreal police force which I have witnessed unfolding via live-streams, in posted footage in the wake of encounters, and frequently now, first-hand. Last night I witnessed a stunning example of bazooka deployment, and saw the unwitting ducks of Saturday night terrace-loungers on Prince Arthur get caught in the crossfire.

Montreal police have a history of treating the citizens they are sworn to protect very badly. That’s why, every March 15, there is a demonstration on the International Day Against Police Brutality. (Spoiler alert: this year’s march saw the police behaving in precisely the ways the citizens of Montreal have tried to communicate that they don’t deserve to be treated.)

On Nov.10, 2011, the McGill community was shocked by the actions of riot police who entered campus in response to a peaceful, if tense situation with unnecessary, and indiscriminate, force. Two reports followed in the wake of these events: one investigative report carried out and produced by Faculty of Law Dean Daniel Jutras, and one carried out by an independent group of students.

Since then, in connection with the ongoing protest against Charest’s decision to raise Quebec tuition fees by over 75% (among other issues), there have been several examples of police behaving badly in situations where it was unwarranted. Permanent injuries have occurred; one student is suffering a permanent eye injury because of a stun grenade detonated close to his face.

Last night, two friends and I were enjoying a pitcher of beer at the patio seating area of Vol de Nuit, a little bar frequented by students on Prince Arthur, close to the St. Laurent intersection. We had seen a manifestation pass by on St. Laurent a while earlier, and had watched its raucous and nonviolent passage. It’s becoming a common sight. Neither we, nor anyone else, cared about the few police on motorbikes we saw zip through Prince Arthur.

A while later, well after the manifestation had vanished from our conversation, we heard a group coming back up St. Laurent. This was around midnight. Suddenly, a small handful of people came running up Prince Arthur from St. Laurent; one had some flag or sign I didn’t see, with a bandana mask around his nose and mouth and a ball cap on his head. He, and the few others I saw with him, were yelling. He suddenly cut left to run up St. Dominique, a little cobbled street even narrower than the pedestrian-frequented Prince Arthur.

I saw an officer in riot gear go running after him. And then I saw him stop at the corner of Prince Arthur and St. Dominique, having encountered a pedestrian coming toward Prince Arthur, around the corner of St. Dominique. This pedestrian was with a girl, was bald, maskless and hatless, and clearly walking - strolling - in the opposite direction of the officer’s quarry. The only reason he was “in the way” was because the officer had decided to cut around the corner so sharply, nearly running into him.

In a fraction of a second after nearly bowling this guy down, I saw the officer strike the man in the head/shoulder area with his club. The man winced, and seized up with pain and obvious surprise, shrinking against the building corner he was next to. The officer struck him again, twice quickly, at which point the man sank to the ground in pain. The officer disappeared once he fell down.

A crowd of people rapidly formed, the air suddenly tense. A line of riot police suddenly arrived, and blocked St. Dominique. The police line used fake charges and baton-hits on their shields to intimidate the confused crowd out of the area. But Prince Arthur is a side-thoroughfare that a lot of partygoers take to and from St. Laurent and the park, and there are terraces and clubs on Prince Arthur itself. I watched couples dodge in confusion, and girls in heels scuttle to get the hell out of dodge as police set up a presence at the  corner. I also saw someone who had knelt to try and help the bystander get shoved over with a police shield.

Once the police had their line established, the crowd began to boo and hiss, while some people tried to tend to the injured bystander on the ground. My friends and I had our bags in hand, ready to abandon our recently-ordered pitcher to run inside if they came at us. I didn’t think they would do such a thing, but the tension in the air made me concerned. Seeing this footage of uninvolved people being accosted by police at the terrace in front of a bar, that very same night, makes me realize my readiness was less paranoid than I initially thought. (I’ve also been charged at by a police line while walking home through an area where a handful of protesters were; tear gas canisters were fired in my general direction, too, as I tried to follow the only available route home.) In both cases, I didn’t hear any warnings or instructions yelled, save for one or two shouts through a megaphone, in French only. Both of these things occurred in very anglophone areas.

The police supervisor appeared eventually, though I don’t know if it was because of the bystander getting assaulted, or because of something else happening up St. Dominique. And, eventually, an ambulance came, but this was well after the citizens had already taken care of their own, and the injured man was gone. In the case of the Nov.10 incident at McGill, it fell to first aid student groups to take care of people suffering from injuries dispensed by the police; the police either fail to offer follow-up assistance to those they injure, or the ambulance they do send comes far too late. This is unacceptable.

The police eventually left, leaving an incredulous, frustrated, and shaken crowd discussing what they’d seen.

This year alone has demonstrated that these instances of overwhelming, unnecessary police response and casual assault on bystanders are not isolated instances. The lack of strong, public police response to this type of behavior has suggested, too, that it is considered business as usual and not worth investigation. I would expect public statements to be front page news, and I would expect to see the police taking responsibility when they are confronted with clear eyewitness accounts and footage documenting these offenses. They have been remarkably quiet on these points, and very evasive and even dismissive at times.

Let me be clear: I have no agenda against the police. I frown when I hear people yelling “fuck the police,” or calling police pigs. I feel uncomfortable when I hear protestors taunting the police, and I appreciate the little ways in which the police force of Montreal has attempted to positively engage with the public during this difficult period in Montreal history. I sighed when I saw this picture of protestors ‘fishing’ for police with doughnuts, because of the spirit of antagonism behind it. I have little sympathy for people who complain about arrest or strong police reaction after launching molotov cocktails at police lines. My godmother was a police woman for most of my youth; one of my best friends has a father who works for the police, both of them in a small city of only 80,000. Police are people too, many with families and good ideals and a sense of justice that put them into the force in the first place.

But it has become abundantly clear that the police force, as an institution, needs to do some serious overhauling of its internal screening process, its training, its mission, and its philosophy of public interaction when we see these things happening again and again, and with no swift public address from the top brass of the force.

These police problems aren’t limited to Montreal: In Victoriaville, a two-hour drive from Montreal, as a result of police action following a protest, one student has lost an eye and another student is facing death as a result of head injuries. (Never mind the fact that we’re still investigating police behavior in Toronto during the G20 demonstrations.)

These are not just “bad apples” in the unit — if they were, we would see them removed from service temporarily and the instance of assault would go down in areas with a no-tolerance policy. So either they’re not being disciplined by probation (why?), or there are so many police making poor judgment calls that the whole training approach of the force (and forces across Canada) is exposed as faulty from a tactical and psychological perspective. There is a supposedly eye-witness account from a new SPVM officer here, in French. He describes watching colleagues target youth who are uninvolved, and the fact that he was ordered not to assist. The encounter left him unable to sleep that night, and he vomited. How can we expect good police officers to remain in the force if these are the conditions they encounter shortly after employment?

As I’ve been typing this, I can hear the helicopters overhead that are the audio cue that another protest is going on. It’s the first summer weekend, and a long weekend at that. I want to think I can go out and enjoy the city with my friends without having to worry about turning a corner and being struck in the face by a police baton, or getting sprayed with tear gas for enjoying a beer on the patio.

Review of ‘The Vegg’ & Tamagonashi nigiri

Before I even received my review sample of The Vegg in the mail, I knew I wanted to do something different with it. I’d seen lovely suggestions on the vegg’s website – French toast, cake, egg custard, hollandaise sauce, and even a full vegg yolk, dip-your-bread-in-it style. But I really wanted to put it through its paces, and try something that I’ve craved, or wanted to eat, on a regular basis.

I was stumped.

Finally yesterday, several days after I received the sample, I realized just what I wanted to attempt. I was in the middle of the Cooking 101 class I’m teaching at McGill as part of the SSMU’s Mini-Courses, and we got talking about sushi. In passing, I mentioned tamago nigiri, that strangely wonderful egg-and-rice pairing I hadn’t eaten since slightly before I went vegan a year ago. A lightbulb lit up above my head.

When I worked in a sushi restaurant years ago, for over a year, I never had the opportunity to make the tamagoyaki – the grilled omelette – that is essential for tamago nigiri. I could crack the eggs, and add the mirin and sugar and soy sauce in the right proportions, sure, but the actual business of preparing the omelette was left to the owner’s wife. Tamagoyaki is a delicate thing, involving a special shallow square pan, and lots of patience and skill. Tamagoyaki is almost a millefeuille of sorts; using chopsticks, you gently fold each half-cooked layer in on itself until finally you have a rectangular ‘log’ of layered omelette. It’s soft and spongy between the teeth, and tastes slightly sweet.

Needless to say, in attempting to do this with the vegan world’s first yolk substitute, I had my work cut out for me.

Especially so, I’ll add, since my kitchen is lacking in a few essentials at the moment. But I couldn’t wait to try it out, and I wanted to see if I could use the vegg in a hasty way – the way I generally do 90% of my cooking.

First things first. I mixed the packet of powder with a litre of water as instructed, and blended it in my blender. Immediately I noticed how authentic the mixture smelled, very yolky. It was a rich orange as well, and had an identical texture to blended egg yolks. It was actually kind of eerie.

I’d read that the vegg can’t be just fried willy-nilly like eggs in general, so I experimented with a few mixtures. People seem to be using konjac as a thickening agent for omelettes, and with success. I tried a few rounds with a few different, low-key thickeners (flour, rice flour), being entirely without konjac or even starch. Needless to say, the results were a flop in the pan.

I also noticed that some people were blending tofu to make a quiche-like consistency, so I gave that a try, too, and threw it into a shallow glass pan to bake it with tinfoil, almost like an egg custard. Still, no dice, though I have to say the consistency was very close — it just wasn’t thickening up and solidifying correctly, so I have a feeling that if you used the right ingredients and proportions, this approach would work. (I may yet attempt this again myself, when I have more time).

I decided that without the proper thickeners, I was barking up the wrong tree by trying to make the vegg function entirely as an egg in an egg-based recipe. I needed to give it a chance in another arena. But, still hooked on the idea of tamago nigiri, I came up with ‘tamagonashi nigiri,’ or ‘eggless omelette nigiri.’

Voila! Tamagonashi nigiri.

That’s a fancy way of saying breaded tofu, in this case. I sliced a block of semi-firm tofu to resemble the long, slim rectangles of tamagoyaki you see strapped to a pillow of sushi rice with a band of nori, and then I dipped them in flour, then vegg (with a dash of sesame oil and soy sauce), then flour again, and pan fried them with a bit of olive oil.

I let them cool, and then prepared them as I would tamago nigiri.

The visual results were pretty good, in my opinion. When I bit into one of them…wow. I was worried the tofu would override the vegg, but it really did as I hoped it would and just served as a base/texture approximation. I can taste the dash of soy sauce, and the yolkiness of the egg! The texture isn’t the same as tamagoyaki, of course, but it’s quite a pleasant alternative, soft and chewy. I can taste the vegg coming through far more than I expected, I’ll admit; furthermore, the quality of the batter itself is better than what I’d previously achieved with other non-vegg egg replacers.

These little things are addictive. You could cut your tofu differently and use it in a sushi roll, instead, if you felt like it. Hell, just use the vegg batter for deep-fried tofu with tempura flour instead of all-purpose, and you’re in a different kind of heaven.

I still have plenty of vegg left in the fridge (the mixed liquid keeps for several days, you just need to re-blend it). Next time I’ll try vegg omurice, and let you know how that works. So far, even in light of my two failed experiments (which were entirely my own doing), I’m pleasantly surprised by the vegg and excited to try other recipes with it. The nutritional information sure doesn’t hurt, either, especially when compared to chicken egg yolks. And don’t forget the whole point: the vegg doesn’t hurt chickens. What’s not to love?

Man, I wish I’d made more of these nigiri.

 

K Karaoke

Montreal has a handful of well-known karaoke haunts, some of which are better-known than others. There are some, I’m sure, that should die in the same obscurity they were born in. (The mysterious Lolita Bar in a basement on Sherbrooke comes to mind, which never seems to have its door unlocked even when it’s “open,” despite being vividly advertised by signs visible from the busy street, and which I’ve never actually heard about in connection with anyone actually doing any karaoke there).

But among the names you hear floating around – Pang Pang, K Karaoke, MBox, and KTV – there’s often little to clue you in to whether or not the place is affordable and enjoyable if you haven’t tried it yourself. (Though I’ve heard enough negative reviews of KTV to want to stay away from it — anyone have an experience to the contrary?)

I can happily say now that K Karaoke is a pretty adequate karaoke lounge. What looks like a tiny place on the second floor of a building on rue Crescent turns out to boast at least 7 private karaoke rooms. This type of establishment is often called a ‘karaoke box‘ to distinguish it from the karaoke bar, where people take to the stage in front of a full bar/restaurant to show off or humiliate themselves (only sometimes deliberately).

The decor in K Karaoke is cute and minimalist. The rooms are of different sizes, and cost $30/hour for one big enough to easily hold 6. There were two microphones, and a disco light which was unfortunately broken. The karaoke screen was a very big TV, and the interface/remote is easy to figure out.

There are some drink-and-sing specials which save you a little money, but not a lot. We paid $150 total for 3 hours of singing, and around a dozen bottled beers. They have over-priced shots and a bottle service, as well. It’s not the most inexpensive place to drink, so I advise getting your nerves settled with some liquid courage before you show up, and keep yourself coasting and your vocal chords well lubricated with a beer or two.

They have songs in Korean, Japanese, and English. (I think there were some Chinese tracks as well). Note that the Korean and Japanese songs will not be in the English alphabet phonetics, but in hangul and kana respectively. Most of their songs are midi files, which means you’re not getting the intense karaoke-pub effect of full guitar and drum kit, but most of the files were adequate and entertainingly kitschy. They had some very recent hits from Asia and North America, meaning they keep their song list updated regularly. They also had some classic tracks that people love to sing, and a lot of genres are well-represented; we never ran out of songs we wanted to try, and in fact ran out of time before we could catch up with our playlist.

We reserved a room on a Saturday night a few days in advance, and since the other rooms were full, I suggest you do too. Bring friends who don’t want to showboat, but who want a good laugh and a chance to do comedic duets and a roundtable Bohemian Rhapsody. Have fun trying to keep a straight face when the music video showing to Crazy Town’s “Butterfly” is actually some heartfelt K-drama breakup scene, or you’re singing Tom Jones over a strange tropical travel voyage commercial on-screen.