Yesterday Montreal hovered around the 40 degree mark for most of the day, the humidity pushing the mercury (or whatever non-toxic substance they use now) on upwards. Obviously too hot to hover over a heat emitting device other than a computer and so the summer salad emerges victorious for a cool dinner option.
This salad might not look particularly incredible, but it is; incredibly delicious and incredibly simple. I had this salad at The Foundation in Vancouver with a one Sean Morley Antrim on an equally hot day, which is perhaps why I thought of it when our heat wave set in. Now if only I could get my hands on some home brewed beer and an extra large moustance the experience would be complete.
Spinach, Pear and Goat Cheese Salad
- Spinach, chopped.
- Pear, sliced into bits.
- Goat cheese, crumbled. I got this black pepper kind that was really good, but you do what you want.
- Cider vinegar
- Onion, minced real fine.
That's it! More time for sweating and eating frozen goodness (Liberty frozen yogurt, $1 at Seagulls, I ate an entire pint yesterday. I mean, something more reasonable. I mean, who am I kidding.)
Our new unit in french class is called 'Je voyage!' I find this to be mildly inappropriate for a class of students who are a) on welfare, b) immigrants/refugees c) students or otherwise poor people. This morning we had to go around the class and list all the countries we have traveled to. If I could make a graph of this you would see an unfortunate correlation between number of places traveled and skin colour. The five or so white kids listed off a handful of countries, the rest listed two: where they were born, and where they are now, with perhaps a brief layover in a refugee camp, thanksforasking.
In the afternoon was devoted mainly to a listening exercise. This particular recording was on the subject of l'amour. The interviewer asked each person how they met their current lovah;
Marie-Pierre: Bof...c'etait au bar de l'universite. Il a vendu des beires mais j'ai refuse parce que a ce moment je detestais les anglais.
Translation: Marie-Pierre is a cuntface.
I quit listening after that so I'm not sure how this poor guy convinced her to overlook his anglo ways. Maybe he gave her some personal transfer payments to her have-not region, if you catch my drift.