This is the time of year that Jay and I (and sometimes James) usually go to Montreal. The weather is still nice (though there are occasional snow flurries and even a snowstorm en route back home once through Vermont.) We wait until the Columbus Day weekend Black-and-Blue Party crowds have gone home. And the city’s merchants and residents start to revel in pre-Halloween dress and decor. One activity I always indulge in while there: grocery shopping. And one item I always stock up on: Lelarge mustard. The strong Dijon variety. And I do mean stock up. I have, on occasion, bought ten jars or more, it’s that good. Sometimes at the Poivre et Sel shop on Ste. Catherine. And sometimes at the larger chain, Metro, to use up any remaining Canadian currency as we’re leaving town. Only once did US Customs remark on my food purchases (Checking bags in the back of James’s truck, an inspector yelled to his colleague, “They got groceries back here!”) My friend Larissa told me that whenever she’s asked by Customs what she’s bringing back from La Belle Province, she always just says, “Snacks.” Sounds good to me.
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