Montreal Patisserie & Bakery Top 10

1. Fougasse Péché Mortel et Chorizo /or/ Baguettine Cheddar & Figue Bio (pictured above)

Where: Boulangerie Guillaume (Plateau Mont-Royal, 17 ave Fairmount Est.)

2. Any of the Moroccan pastries from Pâtisserie Le Ryad

Where: Le Ryad (Center of the Jean-Talon market, between the two ATMS)

3. Egg Custard Tart

Where: Rôtisserie Piri Piri (415 Avenue du Mont-Royal Est, (514) 504-6464)

4. Mini Chocolate Babka

Where: Cheskie’s (359 Bernard West)

5. Custard Cornetti

Where: La Cornetteria (6528 St Laurent)

6. Dragon Beard Candy

Where: Dragon Beard Candy (52 Rue de la Gauchetière West)

7. Macaron de Reglisses // Licorice

Where: Boutique Point G (1266 Mont-Royal Est)

8. Kouign-Amann from Au Kouign-Amann

Where: Au Kouign-Amann (322 Avenue du Mont-Royal Est. 514-845-8813)

9. Tart au Citron // Lemon Meringue

Where: Fous Desserts (809 Laurier Avenue East)

10. Chocolate-Cherry Macaron

Where: Cerise sur le Gateaux (107 Fairmount Avenue West) (closed)

And… honourable mention – Mango Gelato & Matcha Ice Cream from Kem Coba

Not technically a baked good, but you’d be missing out if you skipped this or any of their other flavours!

Where: Kem Coba (60 Avenue Fairmount Ouest)

Summer Peach Galette: In which ripe fruits jump at my command into a shell of butteriest crust.

Not that it takes much coaching.  Peaches are pretty much designed (to the benefit of us fire-wielding humans) to take like perfection to being transformed by a bit of heat into a pie – the juicy become juicier, or something like that.  Or, in this case, a galette (a kind of lazy pie with only a bottom crust that’s folded up around the fruit in a way that’s rustic and *I* think even more celebratory of the ripened innards). I made it in honour of a good friend dropping by from out of town, and I think it’s becoming a tradition that I bake a peach pie in the midparts of summer, started three years ago when I first moved into this wonderful house that I live in now and will soon be leaving.  There are, usually, no less than seven people under this roof, and I wouldn’t be who I am without these beautiful folks.I always have mouths to feed, and there is usually dessert on the table.  The first peach pie I made here was about a foot tall, a sliceable bucket of sweetened bourbon fruits in a burnished coffin of a shell – I had to use a spring-form cheesecake pan just to fit it all in.  The year after was a Pi Pie and I learned the first-hand way exactly what happens when impatience prevents me from chilling an unbaked dough enough – it does get a little… misshapen and less fantastic to eat.  But no matter!  This year was different.

raw and ready.

This year I figured I would see how fast I could turn a lump of frozen butter and a smudge of salt and sugar into a pie-like device.  This took half an hour maybe?  I even had Amaretto still in the pantry.  Really I hardly touched the fruit at all, just tossing with sugar, cornstarch and liqueur, then arranged onto crushed Amaretti cookies & ground almonds.  It doesn’t mess with the flavour of peach, just enhances.  The crust was shatteringly crisp and flavoursome, and held the fruit beautifully.

Anyway, my lovely friends, this is for you.  Merry August, and shine on like adamantine in the wind.

PS. White beer goes FANTASTIC with this.  Just saying’.

For more photos, check out the Flickr set.

Summer Peach Galette

Adapted, loosely, from Smitten Kitchen‘s adaptation of Alice Water’s Apricot Tart

Serves 8


  • 1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoons sugar
  • 1/8 teaspoon salt
  • 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick or 3 ounces) unsalted butter, chilled, cut into 1/2–inch pieces


  • 1 tablespoon ground almonds
  • 1 tablespoon flour
  • 1/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar
  • 1 tablespoon amaretti cookies, pulverized — or — 1 extra tablespoon ground almonds plus an extra teaspoon sugar
  • 10 ounces galette dough, rolled into a 14-inch circle and chilled
  • 1 and 1/2 pounds ripe peaches (about 4 large)
  • 2 tablespoons Amaretto liqueur
  • 1 tablespoon cornstarch
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted
  • 1/4 sliced almonds (optional)
  • Peach or nectarine jam (optional)

Make the crust: Combine the flour, sugar, and salt in a large, wide mixing bowl. Cut in six tablespoons of the butter with a pastry blender or two knives, mixing until the dough resembles coarse cornmeal. Dribble four tablespoons ice water over the mixture, using a rubber spatula to pull the mixture together. Gather the dough into a mound (either in the bowl or on a counter) and gently knead it together, for just a few seconds. If it’s not coming together, add ice water, a tablespoon at a time, until it does. Wrap dough in a flat disc in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before rolling out.

When you are ready to roll out the dough, take one disk and let it soften slightly so that it is malleable but still cold. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the disk into a 14-inch circle about 1/8 inch thick. Transfer the dough to a parchment-lined baking sheet and refrigerate at least 1/2 hour before using.

Make the galette: Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place a pizza stone, if you have one, on a lower rack. Toss the ground almonds, flour, one tablespoon of the sugar, and pulverized amaretti (or mix of extra ground almonds and sugar) together.

Remove the prerolled dough from the refrigerator or freezer and sprinkle the almond mixture evenly over the pastry, leaving a 1 1/2 to 2-inch border uncoated. Cut peaches in half, removing pits, then each half into thirds (you’ll get six wedges per nectarine). Toss the peaches in a bowl with the amaretto liqueur and cornstarch.  Arrange the fruit, skin-side-down, in concentric circles on the dough, making a single layer of snugly touching pieces, leaving the border bare. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of the sugar evenly over the fruit.

While rotating the tart, fold the border of exposed dough up and over itself at regular intervals, crimping and pushing it up against the fruit. Pinch or trim off any excess dough. (Make sure there are no breaks that will let juices leak.) Brush the border with melted butter, and sprinkle it with two tablespoons sugar.

Bake in the lower third of the oven (preferably on a pizza stone) for about 45 to 50 minutes, until the crust is well browned and its edges are slightly caramelized. If you wish, sprinkle sliced almonds over the galette 15 minutes before the baking time ends, so they get toasty and extra-crisp. As soon as the galette is out of the oven, use a large metal spatula to slide it onto a cooling rack, to keep it from getting soggy. Let cool for 20 minutes. If you want to glaze the tart, brush the fruit lightly with a little warmed peach (or nectarine, if you have it) jam. Serve warm, with vanilla ice cream or with plain yogurt.

Do ahead: This galette keeps at room temperature for at least two days, and even longer in the fridge. The unbaked dough, wrapped in plastic, will keep in the freezer for a few weeks, the fridge for a day or more. Rolled-out dough may be frozen and used the next day.

Raspberry, Rose & Lychee Religieuses for St. Valentine’s

A gift of rose petals necessitates a gesture.  Not just anything will do.  I’ve made mere rose jelly ~ (crystalline blushing winesap pink), rose cupcakes ~ (vegan, pistachi-O’d and almondy), rose vodka ~ (hello!)…… but I needed to speak in a full sentence this time, and the 14th of February loomed pain-free and celebratory on the horizon.  I’d always wanted to try it, and I guess it was time, to wizard up some sugarbombs in a flavour combo courtesy of the french wizard Pierre Herme himself, a trifecta of rose, raspberry and lychee – an Ispahan dessert.

St Valentine’s must have met nuns, and if he did, they would probably be made of cream puffs and be called religieuses.  A religieuse, besides being terrifically delicious and kind of freaky looking, is a snowman creation of a fat cream puff (pate a choux) filled with pastry cream, a smaller filled cream puff on top, iced in crisp fondant and streaked with streaks of buttercream.  Verily, I couldn’t help but pop a cube of lychee gelee and fresh whole raspberries inside, and flavour the pastry cream and fondant with rose essence.  The buttercream is spiked with a bittersweet milk/dark ganache and piped using the only tool I had around for the job…. a freezer bag.

All hail cleverness and frugality and the heart-willing faith that nozzle-less, one’s art-piece will still have itself adorned with those silly little stripes that I love so much!!!

For the heart of my life, for all the ones I love. <3 <3  Here is to you, and I hope every day forthward is a religious experience.  At least when it comes time to eat dessert. ;)

Raspberry, Rose & Lychee Religieuses

Pate a Choux

makes 20-24 Puffs

1/2 cup (125g) whole milk
1/2 cup (125g) water
1 stick (4 ounces; 115g) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (140g) all-purpose flour
5 large eggs, at room temperature

  1. In a heavy bottomed medium saucepan, bring the milk, water, butter, sugar and salt to the
  2. Once the mixture is at a rolling boil, add all of the flour at once, reduce the heat to medium
  3. and start to stir the mixture vigorously with a wooden spoon. The dough comes together very
    quickly. Do not worry if a slight crust forms at the bottom of the pan, it’s supposed to. You
    need to carry on stirring for a further 2-3 minutes to dry the dough. After this time the dough
    will be very soft and smooth.
  1. Transfer the dough into a bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or using your
    handmixer or if you still have the energy, continue by hand. Add the eggs one at a time,
    beating after each egg has been added to incorporate it into the dough.
    You will notice that after you have added the first egg, the dough will separate, once again do
    not worry. As you keep working the dough, it will come back all together again by the time you
    have added the third egg. In the end the dough should be thick and shiny and when lifted it
    should fall back into the bowl in a ribbon.
  2. The dough should be still warm. On a greased tray, pipe out or scoop out 12-14 puffs about the size of a mandarin orange, and 12-14 puffs the size of walnuts, and bake in a 350 oven for 15-20 minutes, or until risen and golden brown all over.  Try not to open the oven door while they’re still rising, or they may lose steam and flatten.  After taking them out of the oven, pierce them with a knife to allow steam to escape.

Notes:Once the dough is made you need to shape it immediately.You can pipe the dough and the freeze it. Simply pipe the dough onto parchment-lined baking sheets and slide the sheets into the freezer. Once the dough is completely frozen, transfer the piped shapes into freezer bags. They can be kept in the freezer for up to a month.

Raspberry Pastry Cream

  • 2 cups milk
  • 1 vanilla bean, split and seeds removed
  • 4 egg yolks
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/4 cup corn starch
  • 1/3 cup butter
  • 1/4 cup raspberry puree

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the milk with the vanilla seeds and pod and bring to a simmer. Remove from heat.

2. While the milk is heating, in a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks with the sugar and cornstarch. When the milk has come to a simmer, whisk a small amount of milk in with the egg mixture to temper the eggs, then pour the egg mixture in the saucepan with the milk. Return the pan to medium heat and cook, stirring constantly and scraping the bottom of the pan, until the mixture has thickened to form a thick custard. Remove from heat and strain into a medium bowl.

3. Immediately stir in the butter and raspberry puree, then cool the mixture by placing the bowl over a larger bowl of ice water and stirring until the custard is chilled. This makes about 2 1/2 cups pastry cream.

4. Cover the surface of the custard with plastic wrap and refrigerate until needed.

Compote de Lychee

  • 6 g gelatine leaves
  • 16 g lemon juice
  • 40 g of lychee juice
  • 97 g of mineral water
  • 64 g caster sugar
  • 177 g of mashed lychee pulp

1. Soak the gelatin leaves in cold water for about 2-3 minutes until soft
2. In a saucepan, pour the lemon juice, lychee juice, mineral water and sugar. Bring to a boil ( until the sugar dissolved ) and remove from heat
3. Stir in the softened gelatin that was previously drained to the juice mixture and add in the pureed lychee.
4. Let cool to room temperature and refrigerate.

Fondant Icing

  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1 tablespoon light corn syrup
  • 3 cups powdered sugar, sifted
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 2 or 3 drops red food coloring (for pink icing)

1. In a bowl, combine the water and corn syrup. Place the powdered sugar in a large, heavy-bottom saucepan. Add the water and corn syrup mixture to the sugar and stir until well mixed. Place over low heat until melted (but don’t allow the temperature to exceed 100 degrees).

2. Remove from heat and stir in the almond extract and the food coloring. This makes 1 1/4 cups fondant. It should be warm when coating the choux buns.

Religieuses Assembly:

  • Pastry cream
  • Choux buns
  • About 1 cup fondant, for frosting
  • Fresh raspberries, for garnish
  • Lychee gelee cubes
  • Buttercream (chocolate or vanilla)

1. Fit a large pastry bag with a small tip suitable for piping a filling. Fill the bag with the chilled pastry cream.

2. Pierce a small hole in the bottom of the choux buns and fill each of the buns with the pastry cream until you can feel the weight of the cream inside – almost but not quite full. Cut pieces of lychee gelee small enough to fit inside and carefully insert, along with a few raspberries.  Set the filled buns aside.

3. Coat the tops of the buns by dipping them in warm fondant, shaking off the excess. Hold the buns upside down for a minute to give the fondant a chance to set, then gently invert and allow the fondant to dry. While the fondant is still a little tacky, assemble the religieuse by placing a smaller bun on top of a larger. Allow the fondant to dry completely.

5. Pipe stripes of buttercream all up the sides of the pastry.  Then eat!

Scrumtescent Gingerbread Stout Cake with Pumpkin Pie Chantille

I’m about to threaten to sanctitude of the January fasting trend.  When most post exclusively about oat bran, cottage cheese, steamed vegetables and fatless delights, I’m gonna go all merry on you and post a few pics of our humble home dinner and on top of that a cake.  Well….

This isn’t strictly an indulgence.  In fact, hidden in our sumptuous feast were a few healthy gems that warrant a shared recipe, c/o of my illustrious and culinarily talented roommates (namely, a food-hangover-curing cucumber salad that washed away the pain in the morning).  And so I’ll get to that next post, but before all that, I think what strikes me as most funny about our Christmas dinner (or rather, Skidsmess dinner) is that despite our newschool personalities and post-traditional decisions in life, our food on the other hand put our parents to shame in the category of classic holiday flavorgasmicing. And maybe that was our rebellion.  And foodie fist pump in the air, ’cause my parents haven’t gone through the effort to roast things since us kids became fully grown, and some of the “kids” at the table couldn’t go home for dinner at all.  So we cooked.  And cooked.  And cooked.

There were duck fat roast potatoes, two kinds of chili (hemp & sweet potato / chipotle and beef) with sour cream and coriander.  There was stuffing, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, a non-gravy made with kasserli cheese, edam cheese, apricot jam and cognac.  There was an expertly roasted and very juicy grain-fed chicken cooked with butter, thyme, and a whole boiled lemon pierced with zest-vents inside (bread stuffing added after roasting for artistic effect and more sanitary cooking ;).  There were piles of warm naan bread, a pomegranate-studded fennel and sprout salad, and a huge jar of sharp pickled cucumbers, and I’m probably forgetting something, too.

Oh yeah!  I made tourtiere!  Fortunate enough to get a surplus of ground beef recently, I added some fresh pork loin cut into nubbly squares to that, along with some heavy medieval spices, softened vegetables, red wine and fresh thyme, and packed it into an old-school superflaky lard-based crust that tasted ever so slightly of graham crackers, owing to a touch of brown sugar and a touch of spelt flour.  With loads of ketchup on top, it was comfort food perfection.

I seriously had not tasted old-school holiday dinner joy like this in years, made all the better for knowing that we scraped this together as a team, and with generousity in our hearts.  If one could not cook, one brought wine.  Or made Bloody Marys.  Or whatever, brought their smiling face.  And the wine, of course, flowed, as it always does around here when it’s cold, and despite packing our bellies to bursting, I couldn’t help but suggest just one more edible, and presented the meal finale with a flourish of table-side frosting application: a deeply spiced and impossibly moist gingerbread stout cake flooffed with fresh dollops of pumpkin-pie chantille and scattered with crushed ginger cookie crumbs.  The kind of angelic yet sinful cake that comes cut in huge artful slabs and somehow disappears in a few short, gigantic, happy bites.

Guinness Stout Gingerbread Cake

Nigella Lawson’s recipe and absolutely fab – the batter is liquid, it seems crazy, but that liquidiness makes it so MOIST it practically melts away as you eat it.  I used an Aphrodisiac stout from local microbrewery Au Dieu du Ciel, which has flavours of cocoa, vanilla, bourbon, and roasted malt.

  • 1 1/4 sticks 10 (tablespoons) butter, plus some for greasing
  • 1 cup golden syrup (such as Lyle’s)
  • 1 cup (packed) plus 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
  • 1 cup stout beer (such as Guinness)
  • 2 teaspoons ground ginger
  • 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking soda
  • 1 1/4 cups sour cream
  • 2 eggs

Preheat your oven to 325 degrees F. Line a 13×9-inch cake pan with aluminium foil and grease it, or grease a 13×9-inch foil tray.

Put the butter, syrup, dark brown sugar, stout, ginger, cinnamon and ground cloves into a pan and melt gently over a low heat.

Take off the heat and whisk in the flour and baking soda. You will need to be patient and whisk thoroughly to get rid of any lumps.

Whisk the sour cream and eggs together in a measuring jug and then beat into the gingerbread mixture, whisking again to get a smooth batter.

Pour this into your cake/foil pan, and bake for about 45 minutes; when it’s ready it will be gleamingly risen at the centre, and coming away from the pan at the sides.

Let the gingerbread cool before cutting into slices or squares.

Pumpkin Pie Chantille

I concocted this magic fluff by way of using up a leftover 1/2 batch of pumpkin pie truffle filling.  The ganache is dense, but the cookies and cream cheese give it a melting softness, and once folded into freshly whipped cream, it attains a barely sweet height that tastes like the essence of pumpkin pie + whipped cream without all that distraction of having to eat two things.  It’s fabulous.

Truffle base heavily adapted from a Whole Foods recipe.

  • 200 grams white chocolate
  • 1/2 cup gingersnap or graham cookie crumbs
  • 1/2 cup canned pumpkin purée
  • 2 tsp confectioners’ sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon + 1/8 tsp fresh ground nutmeg
  • Pinch of fine salt
  • 1 ounces cream cheese, softened
  • 500 mls of heavy whipping cream
  • 1 cup crushed ginger cookie crumbs, for topping


Melt the chocolate in a double boiler over medium-low heat or in the microwave for about 1 minute. Stir often to keep the chocolate from burning. Transfer to a large bowl. Add gingersnap crumbs, pumpkin, graham cracker crumbs, sugar, zest, cinnamon, salt and cream cheese and beat with an electric mixer or wooden spoon until smooth. Transfer to a shallow bowl, cover and let rest on the counter until cool.  (You can store in in the fridge at this point, but let it come to room temperature before adding to the cream.  It shouldn’t set up very hard at all.)

Whip the cream to stiff peaks, add a splash of vanilla if you like, and fold the pumpkin ganache into it gently but bravely until just a few streaks of orange remain.  Store in fridge until ready to adorn the cake.  It’s best enjoyed the same day it’s made, or if there must be leftovers, wrapped carefully and refridgerated for one more day shouldn’t hurt.

Scatter the cake with cookie crumbs when ready to serve, and serve generously!

And don’t worry, it’s never too late for a good ginger cake, January or not.  Personally, I would still enjoy this in the spring, with a lemon curd perhaps, or some fresh flowers scattered on top instead of the cookies.  Ginger, as I’m wont to declare, never goes out of style.  Not to me, anyway.

Only one more holiday themed post, I swear!

Gingerbread Cake on Citeeze

Love, Martinis & Marshmallows: “Cookies Unite” at Le Nouveau Palais

Blurry pictures swathed in darkness notwithstanding, Cloudy and I were all akimbo with the mystery menu offered last November at the monthly Cookies Unite event.  On the first monday of every month, the refurbished and newly hipsta-fied Nouveau Palais hosts one or two talented line cooks from the best restaurants in the city and offers them a professional kitchen, creative carte blanche, and a house that’s full of the rafters for one night and one night only.  “Serious” foodies (hehe) sit elbow to elbow your neighbour, her grand-mom, the kid, and a healthy dose of thickly spectactled mile-end twenty-sumthinsumthin, that night waiting for the imagination of Brian Verstraten of Bar & Boeuf and Cynthia Sitaras of Le Club Chasse et Pêche… and did we mention that the two of them are dating?  Hence the name of this event – “One Love.”  [insert “awwwwwwwww”]

A rare martini for yours truly was ordered before the eating started, perhaps in celebration of the event’s recent dropping of it’s BYOB status. Not a bad one either, and the pin-drop clarity of it set a good stage for the first bit of solid food – a trio of amuse bouches in flavours I may not be able to recount to you exactly owing to the vegetarian nature of the set menu that we received at the table (they gave us the veggie version on paper, and the carnal version in life).

So I had to go by what our server was telling us, and it was loud, and I wasn’t taking good notes, but here’s what I remember:  No. 1 was an arancini (battered fried risotto ball) made with mushrooms of some kind and cheese of some kind.  Oh, aren’t I just the most specific?  (NOTE TO SELF: NEVER WAIT 2 MONTHS TO WRITE THESE THINGSd’oh).   It was one of the better that I’ve had, actually – still hot from the kitchen, thin crisp shell and warm earthy flavour, herbs evident.  No. 2 was a pâté that suffered from a bit of dryness and that cat-food thing that pâté can sometimes do, but I’m not the world’s biggest fan of spreadable meat so… you know, to each their own.  No. 3 involved salmon and caviar of some kind and tasted … rather like salmon.  It was also good, and what I DO remember is the texture playing all dramatic with alternating creamy, flaky, buttery-crisp and the welcome oceanic pop of fish roe.  ANYway….

The most luscious savoury was yet to come.  Who cares that we had pizza in our belly already at this point? (pre-dinner snacking is what cool kids do, right?)  When someone sets an aroma-bomb of smoky-sweet pork belly in front of you, all covered with buttery brussels sprouts, sitting in liquid polenta and a madness good jus, well…. I make room in my stomach for these things.  This was late fall in a nutshell – nomzers, and walking in leaves, and swiping flaky bites from your neighbour’s plate, all at once – and my hat’s off to Brian for the gift of it.  (One of those rare times I was specifically grateful not to be vegan anymore.  ^_^;;;;;;;;;  ).

Dinner is good, but I’m a sugar girl, and the desserts landed with a vengeance.  I was floored, really, at Cynthia’s tangy adventurous playground that centered on a lightly salted and eminently spoonable milk chocolate tart slice.  Surrounding it were elements that lifted milk chocolate’s usual cloy to more bright places – very peachy gelato, fruit gelee (apricot, I think), salty crispy peanut crumb, and slices of ripe pear.  A dollop of soft lemon vanilla marshmallow fluff reminded one just enough of grade-school Fluffernutter sandwiches and made the overall reference to PB & J sandwiches just a bit less subtle.  In a good way.

We were fortunate that night to get the full (mini) monty and a spread of mignardises came shortly after to appease the rampaging sweet tooth that the previous dish had ignited.  Full as I was, I could have had more, and at least this trio I remember vividly:

1. a lemon vanilla marshmallow, solid this time.  Almost heady with both scents and melted away into a lightly acidic-sweet soft cream, just a bit of bubble.

2. Apricot and almond financier: still warm, rich and crisp at the edges and chewy all the way through.  Fruity and not too sweet, and felt almost like eating a big soft almond.

3. Chocolate covered caramel, topped with a shattered brittle-type candy, and bitterly awesome through and through.

Pastry like that fires my engine to be better, knowing that I’m not able to make things that perfectly, yet.  I’ve already scheduled a stage at Le Club Chasse et Pêche, with all likelihood resulting in at least some improved skills and dexterity at fun menial tasks like piping cookies and straining cream.  Hey, I go for what I like, and here’s to a new year of obsessive desserting.  Also – sorry about the long absence over Christmas, everyone!  I will be posting lots more now (lots of pictures backed up!) … and I really hope this new year is full of relentless optimism, high quality chocolate, playful kisses, and many more steps closer to whatever it is that you want most.  ^_^

And I guess that’s what Cookie’s Unite is really all about, you know?  Dreams, I mean.  It gives those who aren’t at the echelon of their career yet a chance to shine and be an artist for just one night, and I’m a huge fan of the concept.  It’s also affordable – 30$ a head – and the next one is scheduled for February 6th, featuring Vanessa Laberge from Olive & Gourmando and appears to be another tasteparty!  Soup au boudin noir?  Yes, please!

Cookies Unite: Website / Facebook event page