Once upon a time, two young vegetarians washed up on the shores of the St. Lawrence River. Freshly enrolled in McGill University, Sophie and Lyla arrived in Montreal with nothing but a glint in their eye and a deep hunger inside them. They were eager. They were Jewish. And they were passionate in their love of vegetarian cuisine.
Bundled up in winter clothing to the point of reduced mobility (at the behest of their Jewish mothers, of course), Sophie and Lyla set off down St-Laurent Boulevard in search of the best vegetarian restaurant this unfamiliar island had to offer.
They passed a local vegan grill. They passed a café proudly offering five varieties of nut milk.
Those could both be found back home in Toronto.
No, no. Sophie and Lyla were looking for something bohemian. Something avant-garde. Something, say, a little more Montreal.
Like moths to a flame, their hungry Jewish feet carried them to the only place that promised to satisfy.
“Et voilà, Lyla.” Sophie gestured proudly to the sign. “It's Schwartz’s, ‘a Montreal landmark that has welcomed countless celebrities and visitors from all over the world for almost a century.’”
Sophie beamed. She had done her research. Or at least skimmed the first sentence of the website boasting about their “world famous smoked meat.”
The two skipped into the restaurant arm-in-arm, exchanging excited grins.
A waiter eyed their matching I LOVE VEGETABLES™ T-shirts with confusion. Still, professionalism prevailed, and the waiter led them to a booth.
After shedding approximately fourteen layers of winter clothing, the pair eagerly opened their menus.
Around them, towering sandwiches flew past on plates, piles of smoked meat collapsed between slices of rye bread. Somewhere, a man loudly declared, “Make it extra fatty.”
Lyla scanned the menu carefully.
“Sophie,” Lyla asked slowly, “What is smoked meat?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Sophie replied. With dramatic flair, she pointed to the “extras” section of the menu. “This, my friend, is what you’re looking for.”
Lyla sighed and settled into her seat, overwhelmed by the plethora of plant-based options before her. Pickles. Coleslaw. Fries.
It was, in its own way, a vegetarian paradise.
The waiter reappeared.
“Hi there, what can I get for ya today?”
“One dill pickle with a side of coleslaw, please!” Lyla announced proudly.
“And for the main?”
Lyla blushed. “Oh suuuure! Throw a half-sour pickle in there, too, why not! Let’s go wild – I’m ready to party!”
“Right, okay…” The waiter turned to Sophie. “And for the lady?”
“I’ll have the poutine please, but hold the gravy. And the curds.” Good ol’ Sophie Special.
The waiter blinked. “So… the fries.”
“I guess you could put it that way.”
The waiter sighed the sigh of a man who had seen many things in this line of work: tourists asking for gluten-free bread, conmen feigning injury to skip the infamous line, and hipsters inquiring whether they validate parking for BIXI bikes. “This job just doesn’t get any easier,” he muttered, retreating to the kitchen.
Soon their feast arrived, and two girls dug in with gusto.
The pickles were delightfully crunchy, the fries impeccably salted, and the coleslaw possessed a mysterious tang that spoke of tradition… or possibly mayonnaise.
After quenching their joint thirst for bold, exotic vegetarian flavours, Sophie and Lyla stepped out into the crisp Montreal air, glowing with culinary satisfaction.
Clasping hands and gazing into each other's eyes, they shouted triumphantly: “We have found the best vegetarian restaurant in all of Montreal!”
Passersby stopped and stared. A young man on a bicycle crashed into a telephone pole. It felt like the city had frozen for just one moment, just for them…
The restaurant manager stuck his head out the door.
“Hey, get back here!” He yelled. “You still have to pay!”
Sophie waved cheerfully. “We’re on a quest, sir! A quest for greens!”
Sophie and Lyla spun on their heels and frollicked away down the streets of Montreal. They could not wait to find their next vegetarian destination!
*Nu Magazine does not endorse dining and dashing, nor do the authors. Please treat your waiters and local restaurants with respect. Do not try this at home.
**All events have been fabricated for comedic purposes. Please do not hate us or our families.
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