Tag Archives: the farmers’ cabinet
“Do you want kids?” asked the woman across from me, her expectant eyes fixed on their target. I didn’t respond.
Technically she occupied half of the adjacent table, not mine. But her question reminded me that the restaurant we were eating in is no only child. It’s merely the oldest — born before the other restaurant, the wine bar, and the cookbook — and I was in Montréal to visit the family. Continue reading