Location, location, location...

As I work at dealing with my emotional and psychological issues as pertains to my relationship with food, I am realizing that I have some real handicaps.  For one, I was born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. This is like being a cocaine addict growing up in Bogota, Columbia.

Montreal is the the foodaholic equivalent of Rotterdam harbour to an 18th-century sailor - debauchery at every corner and down each alley.  Come to think of it,
Montreal was well known as a city of debauchery long before the "foodaholism."  A major port of entry to North America for European sailors, Montreal has always been well stocked with some of the best booze, dance halls and adult entertainment (IE. strippers and hookers) on the continent.  Anthony Bourdain beware... (click here to see why it's already too late for him)

Americans called Montreal 'sin city' long before they had discovered Cuba in the 30's, or dug the first foundations in Vegas for that matter.  Heck - most of the booze consumed in the states during prohibition was brewed in Montreal distilleries.  And then, of course, there are the intoxicating women of Montreal - legendary in their own right they are for discussion on someone else's blog...  I'll stick to food.

But more than pleasures of the flesh there are also eating experiences unique to Montreal that just cannot be understood by those who have not lived them.  Not to take away from Chicago's pizza or Philly's cheese steaks but Montreal offers a whole other level of late-night culinary debauchery.

While most North American college drunkards are eating late-night pizza, hot-dogs and potato chips, swarms of young Montrealers are savouring 3am Lebanese food - incredible flavours like Tahini, garlic and 7-spices on roasted chicken.  (God have mercy on your bowels if you have "The Creation" at Boustan on Crescent Street...a true orgy of Lebanese flavours mixed into one sandwich)

Also to be found 24/7 in Montreal are such staples as Jewish deli-style Montreal Smoked Meat, straight-from-the-oven-bagels or Asian noodle houses offering flavours from Singapore, Hong Kong, Thailand and Malaysia.  Even Ben and Jerry's stays open 'till 5am in this city during summer to quash those late-night cravings for Vermont's finest dairy product.  And then....

Then there is poutine.  Sweet, sweet poutine.  Like a great woman she can be plain and simple or she can get all dressed up like a princess.  If you don't know what poutine is, please click here before reading on.  Poutine can be tasted in so many ways, but a Montrealer's choice of poutine most likely depends on the neighbourhood your grew up in.  West Islanders or LaSallois will tell you about Lafleur's poutine. If your are from the Point it's Paul Patates, and East-enders will sell you their Valentine's poutine.  But my weapon of choice will forever be the Plateau's La Banquise.
 Open 24 hours with 27 types of poutine on the menu; that is a foodaholic's kind of place.  My favourite will always be the Elvis, featuring ground beef, green peppers and mushrooms on top of the usual cheese-curds and sauce.  If you were to hold a worldwide contest to see what dish had the highest concentration of calories-per-gram,, poutine would surely come second only to Scotland's deep-fried Mars bar.

The Montrealer's palette is trained young, and for those that have addictive traits in their personality this can be a dangerous starting point.  But worse still, the habit of going drinking with friends 'till very late, followed by 1000 calorie meals is the perfect storm for creating a weight-gaining lifestyle. 

As you get older and wealthier, the Montreal situation goes from bad to worse.  Soon the substitute for beer-drenched college evenings is good bottles of wine accompanied by the city's flock of talented chefs.  In fact I am convinced that Fred Morin, Eric Gonzalez, David Macmillan, Charles-Emmanuel Pariseau, Chuck Hughes, Laurent Godbout, Martin Picard, Joe Mercuri and Dyan Solomon were all put on this earth to torture and kill me.  (Just so you know, there are 20 more names I can add to this list...that's how ridiculous this city is for amazing restaurants)

I'm not making excuses but only examining the facts.  As I head into my 4th week since surgery I wonder if I would have ever decided to take this step had I not moved 200 miles away from my hometown.  They say success is completely dependent on the environment...surely Montreal would be the last place on earth for someone hoping to succeed at losing weight.

For those of you following my journey, I must again thank you for your encouragement and support.  Not a week goes by that I donpre-op, and am trying to incorporate daily exercise into my regimen.  Thanks again for all your support!