Eater Montreal - All Your Nostalgic Classics Week 2015 Content is HereThe Montreal Restaurant, Bar, and Nightlife Bloghttps://cdn.vox-cdn.com/community_logos/52682/favicon-32x32.png2015-01-30T09:22:14-05:00http://montreal.eater.com/rss/stream/77323282015-01-30T09:22:14-05:002015-01-30T09:22:14-05:00Where Did Montreal-Style Smoked Meat Come From Anyway?
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<figcaption>No, not Bens | Bens Realty Inc.</figcaption>
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<p>Time to exhume the meaty genesis of Montreal's iconic dish for Classics Week.</p> <p><img src="https://cdn2.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/3341200/eaterclassicsweek_fade.0.jpg" alt="classics week logo" align="right"></p>
<p>Over the last century, a brazen few have usurped the title of Montreal's smoked meat pioneer. Most of the avowals were false — braggadocio by hucksters keen to corner the cured meat market. <a href="http://www.erudit.org/revue/cuizine/2009/v1/n2/037859ar.html">In a 2009 interview</a>, <strong>Eiran Harris</strong>, the Archivist Emeritus of the Jewish Public Library, offered some fascinating, and definitive, insight into smoked meat's elusive origins.</p>
<p>"For many years deli lovers argued about the origins of Montreal-style Jewish smoked meat; was it Old Man Wiseman or Old Man Kravitz who introduced it? Well, it was neither. In 1911, 63-year-old <strong>Wolf Wiseman</strong>, father of highly respected doctor Max Wiseman, placed an ad in the Yiddish language daily, the <em>Keneder Adler</em>, in which he proclaimed: 'News for Smoked Meat lovers. Your old familiar sausage dealer makes known to the deserving public that he opened a first class delicatessen store at 35 Ontario Street West, where he will sell the best smoked meat, corned beef, salami sausage, and canned goods.'"</p>
<p>Harris' exhaustive research on the subject resulted in the discovery that neither Wiseman nor <strong>Bens</strong> founder <strong>Ben Kravitz</strong> introduced or even manufactured smoked meat: "The earliest ad in Montreal mentioning smoked meats, of which I am aware, appeared in 1876, announcing that they were being manufactured by the Canadian Meat and Produce Company, whose agents were McGibbon, Baird & Company of Montreal. These were not Jewish-style products."</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-right">The actual genesis was the arrival in 1884 of Aaron Sanft from Yassi, Romania.</q></p>
<p>"The actual genesis was the arrival in 1884 of <b>Aaron Sanft</b> from Yassi, Romania. He became Montreal’s first kosher butcher. Historians believe that modern day smoked meat originated in Turkey and was brought to Romania by invading Turkish armies. Romanian Jewish butchers improved the curing process resulting in an exquisitely tender delicacy."</p>
<p>So did Sanft introduce Montreal to the smoked meat we all know and love today? "That was exactly what he did. Although I don’t know the exact year he introduced it, I do know that he was the first to advertise it."</p>
<p>The interview, which should be read in its entirety by anyone even remotely curious about Montreal delicatessen history, also includes some technical information about smoked meat's unique forumula.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-left">An inferior cut of beef may be improved with careful cooking.</q></p>
<p>"There were and still are several secret formulas based mainly on the combination of salt and spices used to coat the briskets. Variations in secret curing ingredients will affect flavour, but the most important aspect of a successful outcome is the cooking. An inferior cut of beef may be improved with careful cooking. Conversely, a superior brisket could be transformed into an outstanding taste experience with expert cooking. The secret formula is in the cooking as well as the curing. Expert trimming of the briskets by a butcher also contributes to quality."</p>
<p>"Traditionally, the dry curing process commenced with salt and spices being rubbed on the surfaces of briskets which were then piled into wooden barrels where they remained marinating in their own juices for a period of 12 to 20 days depending on the thicknesses, and being turned over a couple of times."</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-right">This resulted in the unique quality and flavour of Montreal-style smoked meat.</q></p>
<p>"The cured briskets were then hung up on racks which were placed in a smokehouse and cooked for six to nine hours depending on brisket size. Their progress was checked occasionally. This form of cooking caused a 25 percent loss in volume, but resulted in the unique quality and flavour of Montreal-style smoked meat."</p>
<p>You can read more about Harris' smoked meat research <a href="http://www.erudit.org/revue/cuizine/2009/v1/n2/037859ar.html">here</a>.</p>
https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/30/7950723/what-is-the-origin-of-montreal-smoked-meat-bens-schwartzsIan Harrison2015-01-29T15:42:44-05:002015-01-29T15:42:44-05:00Landmark HoMa Diner Chez Clo, After the Fire
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<img alt="Chez Clo's menu" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/e5FMAXHsDq4xadvuXpAZ1iagXfY=/51x0:846x596/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/45586850/chezclomenu.0.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Chez Clo's menu | <a href='http://www.urbexplayground.com/urbex/le-restaurant-chez-clo'>Benjamin Forjat and Nathalie Hurtubise</a></figcaption>
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<p>The casse-croûte icon gets a nod for Classics Week Power Hour.</p> <p><img align="right" alt="power hour logo" src="https://cdn2.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/3356028/powerhourlogo.0.jpg"></p>
<p><strong>Chez Clo</strong> was a fixture — a stalwart, neighbourhood standby that locals with a yen for no-nonsense Québécois fare could rely on, as of 6 a.m. every day. A favourite of taxi drivers and politicians, the diner tragically went up in flames in 2011, amid mysterious circumstances. The locale at 3199 Ontario Est was abandoned and squatters quickly took up illicit, temporary residence. In 2014, the borough of Hochelaga-Maisonneuve announced a plan to build apartments on the site.</p>
<p>Thanks to intrepid photographers <strong>Benjamin Forjat</strong> and <strong>Nathalie Hurtubise</strong>, you can <a href="http://www.urbexplayground.com/urbex/le-restaurant-chez-clo">catch a remarkable glimpse of Chez Clo here</a>, albeit after the fire.</p>
https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/29/7947501/landmark-homa-diner-chez-clos-after-the-fireIan Harrison2015-01-29T15:23:29-05:002015-01-29T15:23:29-05:00This 1968 Review of Miss Montreal is Everything
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<img alt="We miss the Miss" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/8nu9_ZZBmR4cr0pDtGAGae5_1so=/18x0:1182x873/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/45586754/missmontrealblatt.0.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>We miss the Miss | <a href='http://coolopolis.blogspot.ca/2012/12/harold-asks-what-exactly-is-chicken-in.html'>Coolopolis</a></figcaption>
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<p>Revisit the classic restaurant on Decarie on the occasion of this Classics Week lamented restaurants Power Hour.</p> <p><img src="https://cdn2.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/3356028/powerhourlogo.0.jpg" alt="power hour logo" align="right"></p>
<p>"<strong>Miss Montreal</strong> — Queen of the Decarie Dining Strip," reads the headline. The 1968 write-up of the lamented Montreal restaurant by <strong>Gina Roitman</strong> for the <em>Canadian Jewish Chronicle</em>, begins like this: "For the last 35 years, one of the landmarks of the Décarie Dining Strip, has been Miss Montreal."</p>
<p>"Opened on Décarie Blvd, and Paré St. by <b>Jack Blatt</b> [in 1935], the Miss (as she is known to her devoted friends) has been one of the favourite spots of Montreal's Jewish population. To many, Saturday night is not Saturday night without an after-theatre supper, even if it means waiting in line. The loyal are never deterred or disappointed."</p>
<p>A few paragraphs later, the rave asserts that the old classics are as good as ever: "<b>The Lantman's Special</b> (a hot corned beef sandwich platter), man-sized sandwiches and skillet specialties, served piping hot right in the stainless steel frying pan, are the ties that bind the faithful restaurant-goers."</p>
<p>More Miss Montreal nostalgia <a href="http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=2422&dat=19681220&id=vP9OAAAAIBAJ&sjid=-EsDAAAAIBAJ&pg=2441,4811941">here</a>.</p>
https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/29/7947339/this-1968-review-of-miss-montreal-is-everythingIan Harrison2015-01-29T15:18:18-05:002015-01-29T15:18:18-05:00What Will Become of the Iconic Eaton's Ninth Floor Restaurant in Downtown Montreal?
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<figcaption>Now more a mausoleum than restaurant | <a href='https://www.flickr.com/people/73416633@N00'>Colin Rose</a></figcaption>
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<p>The future of the art deco gem is hazy.</p> <p>It served all manner of Montrealers for seven decades. The Eaton's <strong>Ninth Floor Restaurant</strong> (or Le 9e) has not been open the public, and has rarely been seen, since 1999. The restaurant's fate is in limbo — while a province of Quebec heritage landmark, the site, and the valuable Downtown property it resides in, is in the hands of <strong>Ivanhoé Cambridge</strong>, the asset management arm of the Caisse de dépôt et placement, the province’s powerful pension-fund manager.</p>
<p>It was <strong>Lady Eaton</strong> herself, the wife of the owner of the Eaton's department stores, who christened the 9th floor on January 26, 1931. The restaurant was the crown jewel in the newly-revamped Goodwin building at 677 Saint Catherine Ouest, which Eaton's had purchased six years prior. A star architect was commissioned, at considerable cost, to design the department store and restaurant. <strong>Jacques Carlu</strong> was a Streamline Moderne pioneer and the man behind such projects as the Palais de Chaillot in Paris and the Eaton Auditorium in Toronto (now known as The Carlu and owned by prominent restaurant firm <strong>Oliver & Bonacini</strong>). Carlu's wife, Natacha, created the famous floor to ceiling mural at the back of the Ninth Floor Restaurant.</p>
<p>In <a href="https://go.redirectingat.com?id=66960X1516589&xs=1&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theglobeandmail.com%2Fnews%2Fnational%2Frenowned-art-deco-restaurant-in-montreal-gets-reprieve%2Farticle16820292%2F&referrer=eater.com&sref=https%3A%2F%2Fmontreal.eater.com%2F2015%2F1%2F29%2F7946959%2Fwhat-will-become-of-iconic-eaton-ninth-floor-restaurant-in-montreal" rel="sponsored nofollow noopener" target="_blank">an email to <em>The Globe and Mail</em> last year</a>, <strong>Claude Sirois</strong>, co-chief operating officer at Ivanhoé Cambridge, wrote: "We recognize our collective responsibility to celebrate the history and heritage of the [Ninth Floor restaurant] but we also have a responsibility towards our investors. Several scenarios have been studied. We are still looking for an operating partner who shares our business objectives as well as its preservation."</p>
<p>For more on this bygone Montreal classic, check out the 1998 National Film Board of Canada documentary <em>Les Dames du 9e</em>.</p>
https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/29/7946959/what-will-become-of-iconic-eaton-ninth-floor-restaurant-in-montrealIan Harrison2015-01-29T14:57:04-05:002015-01-29T14:57:04-05:00Architect Luc Laporte's Lux, a Long Lost Montreal Classic on the Main
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<img alt="Lux 1983–1993" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/FA53G2iddjhRCHse4leRaKfrnOM=/174x0:1523x1012/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/45585992/rememberlux.0.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Lux 1983–1993 | <a href='http://vimeo.com/109081938'>FarWeb.tv</a></figcaption>
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<p>Who remembers this place?</p> <p><img src="https://cdn2.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/3356028/powerhourlogo.0.jpg" alt="power hour logo" align="right"></p>
<p>When we polled industry people in Montreal about much lamented restaurants on the occasion of this special Classics Week Power Hour, one name came up time and time again.</p>
<p>In the 1980s <strong>Lux</strong> was <em>the</em> place to be on the Main. Part Eurotrash bistro, part library, part salon, the restaurant was open 24 hours a day. Customers came to browse magazines and newspapers, procure obscure, fashionable cigarette brands, drink imported beers and nosh on frites. After-hours, it was a scene.</p>
<p>The late architect <strong>Luc Laporte</strong> (you can admire his work at SAT and Leméac) was the brains behind the vaulted, multi-leveled concrete and steel space. Lux's ceiling was preposterously high and mirrors reflected sunlight throughout. The restaurant made an indelible impression on what was a moribund block of Mile End. Lux closed in 1993 after only a decade. A post-production company now calls the space at 5220 Saint-Laurent home.</p>
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<p class="caption"><a href="http://www.mtlunescodesigners.com/en/le-lux-fly-studio">Fly Studio</a> in the old Lux</p>
https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/29/7946113/a-tribute-to-the-late-lux-on-the-main-a-long-lost-montreal-classicIan Harrison2015-01-29T12:04:59-05:002015-01-29T12:04:59-05:00Sharon Wilensky on Her Family's Peerless Legacy in Mile End
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<img alt="Asher Wilensky, Sharon Wilensky, Scott Druzin, and Paul Scheffer" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/JPrqYj8BWWWSrhdZUHWTTzJG9Qo=/139x0:2362x1667/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/46755786/Wilensky-15.0.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Asher Wilensky, Sharon Wilensky, Scott Druzin, and Paul Scheffer | Randall Brodeur</figcaption>
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<p>Wilensky's is a Montreal classic. Scroll down for a photo gallery of the landmark lunch counter.</p> <p><em>When ordering a Special, you should know a thing or two.</em><br><em>It is always served with mustard; it is never cut in two.</em><br><em>Don’t ask us why; just understand that this is nothing new.</em><br><em>This is the way that it’s been done since 1932.</em><br> — The rules of Wilensky's</p>
<p><strong>Ruth Wilensky</strong> may have taken her retirement but the family business that her late husband Moe started in 1932 is mercifully untouched. <strong>Wilensky's</strong>, Mile End's lunch counter shrine, still cranks out soda fountain drinks and <strong>Specials</strong> — that quintessential pressed sandwich of all-beef salami and all-beef bologna with mustard on a kaiser roll — production line-style, in much the same way it did from the start. Daughter <strong>Sharon Wilensky</strong> recently sat down to talk about the family business for <a href="http://montreal.eater.com/classics-week">Classics Week</a>.</p>
<p><strong>What are some of your earliest childhood memories of Wilensky’s?</strong><br> We lived on Hutchison when I was little, until I was about six. I went to Alfred Joyce School, which was up the street. In terms of a general memory, I remember coming in here and twirling around. My first jobs were filling the gum machine and stamping the books. Which many years later I found out were mainly trashy novels. I remember once opening the door for some customers and my dad said, ‘Don’t do that, they’ll think we raised our prices.’ Like we had a doorman.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-left">"The only time he really got angry at somebody was when they went to grab a knife to cut their sandwich."</q></p>
<p><strong>What kind of boss was your father?</strong><br> You’ll hear a lot of customers say, that if they went against some of the rules we have, that he threw them out. But I never saw him do that. People have this memory of him being stern but he was really funny. He was a people person. But he knew how he wanted to run the business. The only time he really got angry at somebody was when — because we don’t cut our sandwiches — was when they went to grab a knife to cut their sandwich. [Laughing] He got really mad at them. [Laughing] Maybe he threw them out.</p>
<p><strong>Do you think this sense that Wilensky’s is stern adds to the mythology of the place?</strong><br> Well maybe a little bit. There’s a bit of — look, when it’s really busy here, don’t bother me with your silly little requests. You know, we do it this way and certainly at that time, most of the people coming in were regulars. Now we have to have different sensibilities because people are tourists or first-timers or whatever. But at that time, a lot of kibbitzing. A lot of kibbitzing. I think people built up in their head what their memory was. People say, ‘Oh I remember when you had tables here.’ We never had tables.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-right">"To be equated to the Soup Nazi is really taking it too far."</q></p>
<p><strong>They’re thinking of </strong><em><strong>The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz</strong></em><strong> movie.</strong><br> They are. They are. Or there were a lot of places in the neighbourhood like this so they’re meshing them together. So people’s memories can be tricky. I think there’s a little bit of truth to it — it doesn’t come from nowhere but to be equated to the Soup Nazi or something is really taking it too far. To work with my dad was fine, you know, I was a teenager and I was always rolling my eyes. [Laughing] He’d tell me really sensible things and I was like ‘Leave me alone!’. But I learned so much working here.</p>
<p><strong>And from your mother too, I imagine.</strong><br> My mom worked here off and on her entire marriage. But we were five kids, so she was home. When I went to school, I went home for lunch. She was there. And there was a period of time, between two regular employees, when I was shunted off to a cousin’s house because she came in to work. But from the 70s on she worked full-time until she retired.</p>
<p><strong>How long has she been retired now?</strong><br> Two years. She’s 95 now.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-left">"It’s not ‘Can you believe we’re 80 years old?’"</q></p>
<p><strong>Are you as sentimental about this place as a lot of people are?</strong><br> I think I am for sure, but in a very different way. Thinking about my dad and my late brother Bernard. I worked with him until I left for university. So it’s tied into that, into my memories of my family. When I came back to be part of the business, it was a whole different attitude. Then it was my job and I learned a lot about working with people and it was fun. Coming back 11 years ago it was a completely different take. And you know, we don’t talk about it at home. If I do it’s like ‘This annoys me, or that’ — it’s not ‘Can you believe we’re 80 years old?’ My kids couldn’t care less. So it’s a very different take. I look at it as my personal history.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote">"I think of places that were and still are special to me and I understand the feeling."</q></p>
<p>But I do understand how people see us. I think of places that were and still are special to me and I understand the feeling. As a matter of fact, my uncle had a grocery store on Mont-Royal which afterwards was Marché Richelieu, I don’t know if you remember that. It was near the metro and then it burned down. So one day — it was not long after I started working here — I walked in to Marché Richelieu. It was completely different but I still got this nostalgic feeling. Like the past came back to me. And I think that’s how some people feel when they walk in here.</p>
<p>[Pointing] That sign with the poem I made when I came back to work here, about the rules. They asked, ‘Can you make a sign about the rules?’ They were tired of explaining them. You’re always part of the business whether you’re working here or not. My sister did the calligraphy, she designed the postcards, the t-shirts, stuff like that. The new menus that are hanging outside. She’s never really worked here, physically. I remember one day when my dad had to go to the dentist, she worked here [laughing]. But she says she was here before that. I’m the youngest in the family so I don’t remember. And I have an older brother too and he does a lot of stuff, behind the scenes.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-right">"The sign’s not old. But the rules are old."</q></p>
<p><strong>So that sign is actually not that old.</strong><br> The sign’s not old. But the rules are old.</p>
<p><strong>Was it always your intention to come work here?</strong><br> No. Not at all. I worked here until ‘80, ‘81. I was teaching English as a second language for 15 years. It was after my brother Bernard died that I started thinking about it. He died in 2000. They hired Paul [Scheffer], who’s an old friend of the family. I knew my mother was getting older and I just started thinking about it.</p>
<p><strong>Did she drop hints that she wanted you here?</strong><br> My brother and I started talking about it. My brother that works here [Asher]. Was she happy I came? I don’t know.</p>
<p><strong>Is she not the expressive type?</strong><br> [Chuckling] Well, she can make your life a little difficult. It was interesting for a while, you know, mothers and daughters. But two weeks after I came here, my brother had an appointment and my mother got sick or something, and all of a sudden I was closing. I had never done that before. It was obvious that it was really good to be five of us here. When you’re four, if something happens, it can be rather delicate.</p>
<p><q class="pullquote float-left">"Suppliers have changed. But we’re getting the same products."</q></p>
<p><strong>Has much changed in terms of the menu over the decades?</strong><br>Suppliers have changed. But we’re getting the same products. The recipe for the bread is the same. It’s been passed on. The same kind of salamis. It’s really important. And you know, you always get some people who say ‘The sandwich used to be bigger’ or something. Well maybe you used to be smaller, we like to say [laughing]. But no we get people who haven’t been here for 30 years and they’ll say, it’s the same. It’s exactly the same.</p>
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https://montreal.eater.com/2015/1/29/7942831/sharon-wilensky-on-her-familys-peerless-legacy-in-mile-end-montrealIan Harrison