In the Flesh

From Jean Talon to Lenin’s Tomb

Geist - - Geist - Michał Kozłowski

On our first day in Mon­treal this sum­mer, my girl­friend sug­gested that we visit a ve­gan res­tau­rant in the Plateau that she had read about but whose name she could not re­mem­ber. We were stay­ing with my sis­ter and her boyfriend, and the boyfriend said that he knew the place and at one time had rented a stu­dio from the owner. Then he told us the story of a hor­rific ac­ci­dent that had hap­pened a few years be­fore when one of the staff at the ve­gan res­tau­rant got his hand caught in the feeder of a pita-mak­ing ma­chine. When the paramedics ar­rived they found the man con­scious, seated in a chair with his arm stuck all the way up to the el­bow in­side the feeder. Un­able to dis­lodge the man’s arm, the paramedics con­sid­ered call­ing in a sur­gi­cal team to am­pu­tate the man’s arm right there in the kitchen of the ve­gan res­tau­rant, but then they set to work dis­man­tling the pita ma­chine and were able to de­tach the feeder. Then they drove the man, with his arm still stuck in the feeder, in the am­bu­lance to the Notre Dame hos­pi­tal, where even­tu­ally the man’s hand was am­pu­tated.

That evening we de­cided to make our own din­ner and so we walked down to the Jean Talon mar­ket and bought radishes, toma­toes, smoked her­ring, sheep cheese, goat cheese, fava beans, pork pâté, baguette, morel

im­age: stephen ives

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