Bizarro McDonald's

I wonder how many American cities can make the claim that they don't have a McDonald’s within their limits. I’m guessing very few. This honor is just one of the many things that I love about Burlington, Vermont, perched on the edge of majestic Lake Champlain and about a 40 minute drive north of Bristol. It also bears the honor of being the largest city in the state, boasting a population just shy of 40,000 (with the greater metro area’s population numbering around 210,000, about one third of Vermont’s total population).

Until a few years ago a McDonald’s did exist in downtown Burlington, just off of the lively pedestrian marketplace locally know as Church Street. 

Stalking the Wild Leek

Although I was a girl scout back in the day, I don’t recall ever earning a badge in foraging and tend to be a little nervous about eating food I’ve found in the wild. Nonetheless last weekend Chris and I went out in search of ramps, or wild leeks, to cook up for dinner. We had seen them in our food coop and heard that they possibly could be found about five miles from our house on a 664-acre conserved piece of land called The Waterworks Property.

Crossing the Border, Day 2

After the Duck in a Can extravaganza Friday night, none of us was very hungry Saturday morning, so we strolled over to Olive + Gourmando for a light breakfast. Just a few blocks from our hotel, Olive + Gourmando is a popular bakery-café offering a full breakfast and a homey lunch menu of soups, salads, panini, and specials such as Moroccan couscous with mint and cilantro yogurt sauce. We were just seeking their coffee and baked goods today, however, both of which are outstanding. Their pastry is light and flaky and not overly sweet: true French pastry that is difficult, if not impossible, to find in North America.

Crossing the Border, Day 1

A cosmopolitan city of 1.6 million, the majority of whom are Francophone, Montreal is a world away from small-town Vermont life. It’s also a wonderland for food lovers. Chris and I try to make it up to Montreal at least once a year, usually in early spring around my birthday when there are fewer tourists and you can get a deal on a nice room in one of the chic boutique hotels in the Old Town.

This year, our friends Katie and Pete came along. They’re the kind of friends that you feel like you’ve known your whole life. I remember when they first moved to Bristol around thirteen years ago, when our youngest kids were both babies. I saw Katie on her front porch, a few blocks down the street from our house, and thought, I want to be friends with that woman. Not long after that we met, the four of us went out to dinner, and the rest is history. We celebrate Christmas Eve with their family every year, they came to visit us in France, we’ve been to their cabin in the Adirondacks with them, but mostly we just have a lot of fun together. Montreal was no different.