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Asian night in Ahuntsic >> Sushi, neon and beer at Dépanneur Epicerie d'Asie |
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C'est la saison des guidounes et des gros chars, and again it's time to eat des hot dogs moites en plein milieu de la rue, en pleurant. La craque des fesses superglued to la craque du trottoir, one can only beg for vicious sunstrokes and a smog-induced coma, but we've been bad so we live. How many airheads can cram this city at once? Who cares if Guy Lalonde's having a party? Who's going to guillotine Loto-Québec and their inconceivable plan to move the casino? Yeink qu'à y penser, la sweat nous coule dans face comme les chutes Montmorency, yet nos culottes sont dry. "Sont où les moutonoirs?" we inquire to a wrinkled window washer on his lunch break. North, he motions. We leave, our pantyhose and blowpipe packed with unprecedented fierceness, egos bloated from leaving it all behind, le vent dans l'topsail... Montréal, La Tuque, Chibougamau, Shefferville, Apaluk... hmmm, Ahuntsic?! Hey, wôwe, where the hell are we, là? Hallow? It's thunderstorming and there's no one in sight, not a soul, not a squirrel. Par chance, nos yeux d'marmotte still make out the familiar outline of the letters D-E-P-A-N-N-E-U-R stencilled in a corner window. Ah. Still in PQ, on dirait. Cherry Blossoms and a payphone should take care of this little écartement in no time, so in we march. "Good day," bellows the cook from his kitchen in the back. "Please, sit down." Han?! "Allez, sit, sit, and eat," chirps his lady, menu in hand. We obey, somehow mesmerized by the line up of fridges loaded full of milk, orangeade, juices, iced tea and the rest of the gang. The king cans and life-size bottles section is impressive, c'est comme entrer dans l'ring avec les corporate heavyweights, toute la gamme des Labatte, Cinquante, Mollesonne, Blaque est là, format 20 litres. Whatever you wish to drink with your meal, you pick. Bébé facile. The place is a big, neon-lit rectangle where monsieur cooks in the back while madame tends the dépanneur, on the right, and the épicerie, on the left. C'est ça l'amour. Et c'est pratique en criss. We order up and shop 'cause it's a long way to la Baie d'Ungava. There are Glad bags, du jus de jeune coco, Longevity Brand stuff, Palace Sliced pineapple, real Ramen noodles, 20-kilo bags of Lan Flower Brand rice, Asian condiments at beyond-belief prices, bref: ça rock à toutes les sauces. Dans l'assiette, there's Pad Thai ($6.75) with peanuts and cilantro - on aime ça. Légumes sautés au poulet is #11 ($5.50), #12 ($6.25), and #15 ($6.00) on the menu. Don't know which one we get but it's super simple, like something your papa would cook on a Sunday night, avec plein d'sauce maison. Maki #44 ($7.00) is called Montréal - no way, on l'regarde même pas. Kamikaze #24 ($6.50) is standard, okay-good, but has a peculiar colour, like an out-of-tune harpsichord. Le maki #29 ($6,75) s'appelle Ahuntsic. It's a wacko: scallop, caviar, spicy sauce and... strawberry. Well, it's not bad at all, really, kind of fucked-up very good, even. Paying for all of our stuff does not hurt one bit, and on the way out, we bear hug the plastic lobster freezing over la cage à sushi fish. The chef says he can't dance no more 'cause he's out of power. Bah, lobsters don't like to dance anyways. Tout l'monde sait ça, même nous. Salut, Ahuntsic! Ça fait mal cheapmotel@hotmail.com Dépanneur Epicerie D'Asie |
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