Portuguese Kale, Anthony Bourdain and My Lifelong War With It
I hated my mother’s Portuguese kale soup as a kid. Then Anthony Bourdain came along and somehow made me reconsider everything.
I hated my mother’s Portuguese kale soup as a kid. Then Anthony Bourdain came along and somehow made me reconsider everything.
I wanted to become a comic book artist. Instead, I published one with Bernie Mireault and helped turn it into a fundraiser for the Montreal Children’s Hospital.
The Great Antonio was known around the world for pulling trains and performing incredible feats of strength. To me, he was simply part of growing up in Rosemont. This personal memoir looks back at the corner of Beaubien and Papineau, where a butcher shop, a variety store filled with Japanese tin robots, a childhood crush, and one unforgettable neighbourhood legend became woven into the memories of childhood.
Growing up in the 1970s, my bicycle was more than a way to get around. It was freedom, independence, and my ticket to adventure. From homemade ramps and pop-up wheelies to Star Wars trading cards clipped into the spokes, every ride came with excitement and a few close calls. Looking back, I realize just how easily that freedom could have disappeared in a single second, making every memory even more meaningful.
Sometimes the biggest mistake isn’t believing the illusion. It’s explaining how the trick works. What began as an innocent attempt to tell my mother the truth about professional wrestling ended her Saturday afternoon tradition forever. Years later, watching wrestling with my own wife and son, I finally understand that the real magic was never inside the ring. It was always the people gathered around it, sharing the experience together.
Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis has long been remembered for its shocking opening, but the giant insect was never the true story. Beneath the surreal transformation lies a timeless reflection on identity, family expectations, isolation, and the pressures that shape our lives. More than a century later, Gregor Samsa’s struggle continues to challenge readers in ways that feel surprisingly modern.
A shopping cart is more than a grocery store convenience. It offers a simple reflection on character, responsibility, respect, and the choices we make every day. Whether we return it or leave it behind may seem insignificant, but those small decisions often reveal more about us than we realize. Sometimes the smallest actions say the most about who we are.
Twice a year, changing the clocks becomes an unexpected adventure involving ladders, forgotten wall clocks, stubborn car menus, and the White Rabbit. Along the way, there’s a surprising history lesson about daylight saving time and a humorous look at one of our strangest annual traditions.