by ALICE AND YANKA

When Bruno Camion finishes his day at the fishery where he wrestles gigantic octopuses all day, he longs for roasted toenails, rusty bolts, coma-inducing drinks. We gladly provide all this for him, for Bruno's our beloved gravedigger. He never shuts up; words flow out of his nostrils and appendicitis scar ad infinitum, even while he sleeps. One night, our ears planted on his fleshy flank, a string of words sprung out of his innards, "Emmène-moi au chantier, papa, j'veux taper sur des clous 'ek toé..." Au chantier? Quel chantier?! Y'a jamais voulu nous l'dire.

Months later, taking a left on a side street in a desperate attempt to dodge a tacky, crowded avenue of fake Montrealism, we notice it: a sheet of paper, dotingly Scotch-taped to a glass window, announcing a benefit concert for... le Chantier. And right under the paper, behind the window, ben oui, le Chantier. Le jackpot, ostie.

It doesn't seem to lack anything that would require benefactors, but there's no machine à béton, so maybe they raised money for one. There's no homme d'la construction to whistle at and offer a "beau cul, bébé" to either, but it doesn't matter. It's tiny, it's sunny, it's un peu tout croche, les tables sont belles, there's a big plant and a poster with most happy text on it: "Show de WD-40." Wouééé!

Regulars come and go, à l'aise comme dans leur garage. Instead of useless shit muddling the tabletops, there's salt, pepper, sugar and a big pack of question cards from Quelques Arpents de Piège. What part of the body is unusually large if one suffers from Megalodactylous? Fingers.

Anyways, sometimes le Chantier est comme une ruche, les clients arrivent en s'parlant de bord en bord d'la place pis ça jase au comptoir. Other times, it's just a friendly man drawing a crazy, striking spirographic masterpiece.

No one seems to be in a hurry, except Jean-Christophe, chef and, we think, co-owner of the joint. Il court - dans la rue, chez l'marchand, à l'imprimerie qui lui doit des sous ± comme une joyeuse queue de veau avec sa toque 'sa tête, les ch'feux au vent. The gold ingots that come out of his mouth - "C'est du vrai sirop d'érable! On a de la cassonade blonde, c'pas du sucre mélangé avec d'la mélasse! Tiens, d'la crème pour ton café!" - are matched by the homespun fares that come out of his kitchen.

Crok Monsieur ($7.95)? Two slices of brown bread topped with ham and real good cheese, d'la sauce piquante maison et une grosse rondelle de tomate. Crok Princesse? Basil pesto, turkey, mushrooms and goat cheese ($7.25). Crok Soleil? Two eggs, ham and veggies noyés sous le fromage gratiné ($7.25). There's an Omega club sandwich ($7.50), a sandwich piquant ($6.50) and no-fuss breakfasts, too.

The super charmante serveuse (and we think co-owner of the joint) points to the ardoise on the wall, home of the daily special. May 11? Y'a du macaroni à la viande. May 13? Couscous merguez. May 9? On célèbre le pâté chinois. Et le chocolate pudding chômeur?! Miam! Screw work and eat it all day. Pis desfois y manque des choses or they run out of homemade vinaigrette or baguette; desfois le chef va au supemarché en chercher, desfois faut s'en passer. Et c'est so what parce c'est tout ça qui fait l'charme de cet antre magnifico qu'est le plus hot des Chantiers dans la maudite ville de Monrial!

Postcards? cheapmotel@hotmail.com

Le Chantier
ADDRESS: 4477 De la Roche
TEL: No phone. Send postcards & stuff by mail.
CARDS: Cash only
HOURS: Subject to change until they find the right pace.
For now, 9 a.m.–7 p.m. But if you come in at 6:45 p.m., they won't close the door on you.
PRICES: Super fair
SMOKING: As of June 1, le Chantier will be entirely smoke-free.
It's not because smokers are not welcome or loved, it's just too small.
ALCOOL: Non
TERRASSE: One table on the sidewalk, pour boire son café avec les écureuils. Et pour fumer.
WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Yes. Unisex bathroom is at the end of a narrow corridor, though.
VEGETARIAN FRIENDLY: Pas mal. Everything is made on the spot so it's pretty flexible.
BEST FEATURES: Les super proprios, the 32-year-old
dictionary, the coffee.
RATING: 3 1/2 croks sur 4