Drimonis: Montreal's multitude of ‘third places' enriches our city and our souls
For six Sunday evenings (until Aug. 17) Montrealers can grab a blanket or their favourite camping chair, bring food and drinks and lie under the stars (or in last Sunday's case, an eerie orange half-moon) and watch French or English movies featuring sultry femme fatales who may or may not be up to no good and hapless private eyes who usually can't tell the difference.
The crowd — a mix of young and old, large boisterous groups, people on their own, couples out on a romantic evening — all sitting and lying so closely together, that occasionally as we shift positions on the grass, someone's shoe may brush up against someone's hand. No one cares.
There's a lingering poetic intimacy to a group of strangers sitting together in the shadow of old factory silos watching vampy Marlene Dietrich foreshadow the villain's demise in the 1958 classic Touch of Evil. Charlton Heston, wearing foundation that's five shades darker than his natural skin complexion, plays Mexican narcotics cop Mike Vargas. Not all films age gracefully. In fact, most don't.
A few weeks ago, I found myself at Mount Royal Cemetery for the launch of this season's Shakespeare-in-the-Park production, where Shakespeare was noticeably absent. Instead, an Oscar Wilde play is being performed around Montreal parks this year: The Importance of Being Earnest. Once again, I was surrounded by strangers (both the dead and the living) as we laughed at the campy production, an invisible magical thread connecting us.
Last week, I ended up on Nuns' Island, squeezing into West-Vancouver Park alongside thousands who came to listen to the Orchestre Métropolitain and conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin perform for free under a gorgeous summer sky. I saw people of all backgrounds swaying their bodies to the same delicious notes.
There's a name for these spaces and the feelings they evoke. Sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the term 'third places' in his 1989 book The Great, Good Place. If our homes and places of work are our first and second places, then parks, churches, cafés and libraries constitute third places. Public spaces where people go to simply be with others and connect with their community, mostly for free.
Humans are communal animals. Even the most curmudgeonly crave some contact. Montreal's outdoor spaces act like what's been called 'societal glue,' fostering connection and deep attachment to the city we all call home. In our parks, public squares, green spaces and pedestrian-only streets, Montreal has an enviable amount of outdoor third spaces.
I feel many people fail to truly understand their importance for a city's social cohesion; how they help build empathy for, and interest in, each other. Third places affirm our own sense of identity and belonging to a place while simultaneously making us feel as if we belong to a world bigger than ourselves.
In multicultural and multilingual spaces like Montreal, where people of all backgrounds and perspectives come together, and in a world where people are increasingly living solitary lives online or in their cars, these spaces provide a sense of shared reality. They wage war against loneliness and disconnection.
It can be the local basketball court, neighbourhood café or dog park. Or barbecues held in alleyways, cultural events sponsored by the city, or pay-what-you-can yoga in the park. It can be watching the sunset from the Lachine lighthouse or the full moon from the Kondiaronk lookout on Mount Royal. Third places have this irresistible ability to foster connection and tenderness for one another.
Now, more than ever, we need that.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Winnipeg Free Press
a day ago
- Winnipeg Free Press
Pulling back the curtain
Award-winning Brazilian novelist, journalist and short-story writer Eliana Alves Cruz published her first novel, Água de Barella, in 2015, followed by another two novels and a book of stories. She is widely recognized in Brazil, as she should be. Solitaria, the first of her books to be translated into English, is quickly bringing her the wider audience she so richly deserves — and exposing from the inside, and as if for the first time, the charged torsions of the distinctively Brazilian versions of class and caste, racism and race. Solitaria is unnervingly stark and simple in structure. It's narrated in three parts by three voices in sequences of no more than three pages each. Astra House photo Eliana Alves Cruz's first book to be translated into English exposes, from the inside, the charged torsions of the Brazilian versions of class and caste, racism and race. The first 15 episodes are in Mabel's voice. The little girl is Eunice's daughter; the pair are Black domestics in a rich white Brazilian couple's apartment in an unnamed big city in the south of Brazil. Eunice's voice narrates the second part of the novel; the third, from which the title derives, is narrated by the series of solitary 'little-rooms' inhabited by domestics — historically and today. Evoking solitary confinement, 'Solitária' signals the sites of isolation of Brazilians like Eunice and Mabel, servants confined to tiny compartments in the rear of opulent apartments. That Alves Cruz gives these 'little-rooms' their own narrative power and presence is resonant: in Brazil these spaces are mute witness to generations of suffering — like that of the woman imprisoned in another apartment since she was 10. The tensions in Mabel and Eunice's family speak to today's Brazil as to Brazilian history. The father, an expert and loving gardener, drinks too much and eventually is forced to abandon his family. Eunice's mother lives with her daughter and granddaughter in a little house in the far suburbs, from which they travel hours to the apartment where they work. The traditional caste of service people populate their layer of the apartment block: the building superintendent Jurandir and his two boys, Cacau and João Pedro, add another turn to the plot as Mabel becomes pregnant as a teenager with João Pedro's baby, while Mabel and Cacau eventually break free from their respective confinements through years of hard study and determination. Jurandir's sons represent two possible avenues of escape for Mabel — one, passionate anger and rebellion, the other determination and endurance. A further elaboration of plot develops through Ms. Lucia, the rich boss and Tiago, her lawyer husband, who struggle to conceive a child; their hyper-spoiled daughter Camila comes to play a vital part in the second of the novel's twinned tragedies involving children. (Readers will have to discover these transparent and telling developments for themselves.) Weekly A weekly look at what's happening in Winnipeg's arts and entertainment scene. Meanwhile Ms. Lucia plays her own duplicitous role in helping Mabel abort, later scornfully revealing her complicity to Eunice. That first cover-up anticipates the larger and ultimately unsuccessful attempt of the rich couple at concealment of their family's role in the novel's final tragedy. Solitaria There is an overarching message of hope in Solitaria: as is the case in contemporary Brazil, a series of exacting laws is enacted to legislate and improve the terrible working conditions, including salary, of domestics (even if under-the-table arrangements continue to undermine this new regime); and the machinations of Ms. Lucia and Tiago to conceal their daughter's complicity in the culminating tragedy are exposed, as is the pathetic condition of the imprisoned woman in another apartment. The translation of Solitaria by Benjamin Brooks is excellent for the most part, although it is unnecessarily marred by leaving some popular lyrics in Portuguese, to little positive effect. But that does not impede the forceful progress of the narration. Alves Cruz pulls no punches. No reader will be in any way confused by the novel's clear message, if fiction does indeed convey a 'message:' Solitaria announces on every page that the Brazil so long idealized, from the perennially false fables of racial harmony to the sultry languor of bossa nova lyrics, is a Brazil that never was. Alves Cruz's Brazil pulses with vital and dangerous but real hope. Writer and translator Neil Besner grew up in Rio de Janeiro and returns there frequently.
Montreal Gazette
2 days ago
- Montreal Gazette
Quebec singer Luck Mervil found guilty of sexual assault
Montreal Crime Quebec singer Luck Mervil was found guilty of sexual assault on Thursday. The events date back to a night 25 years ago, when Mervil is said to have drugged and raped a 19-year-old woman after a show in Rimouski. The hearing took place in February. The judge stated on Thursday that he did not believe Mervil's claims that it was a case of mistaken identity and that the victim had him confused with other Black celebrities. The judge also commented on the vague nature of Mervil's testimony, which he said lacked credibility. A sentencing date has not yet been set. Mervil said he plans to appeal the verdict. During the trial, the victim described meeting the singer at a bar in Rimouski on the night of June 23-24, 2000. The woman recounted putting her beer down on the bar and going to dance. Feeling nauseous, she went to the bathroom, where she said Mervil appeared next to her. She said she woke up in a hotel room with Mervil on top of her. Mervil is known for his performance in the hit musical Notre-Dame de Paris; he played the character Clopin in the original French and English casts. He received a six-month sentence in 2018 after pleading guilty to sexually exploiting a 17-year-old girl.
Vancouver Sun
2 days ago
- Vancouver Sun
Cook This: 3 recipes from Sunny Days, Taco Nights, including hard shells filled with a meaty mix
Our cookbook of the week is Sunny Days, Taco Nights by acclaimed Mexican chef Enrique Olvera with food critic Alonso Ruvalcaba. Jump to the recipes: hard-shell tacos , chorizo tacos and prawn tacos . A trip to Japan changed chef Enrique Olvera 's perspective on the taco. Born and raised in Mexico City, he was struck by the idea that respect for the street food staple could mirror that for sushi. As sushi spans various contexts and complexity, from 7-Elevens to legendary omakase restaurants, so too could tacos. 'The first time I went to Japan, I was very impressed by the fact that sushi had such a range,' says Olvera. 'When I went to a fancy omakase, of course, you would see the personality of the chef. It was very subtle, but you would see the differences in how they cooked the rice.' Discover the best of B.C.'s recipes, restaurants and wine. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. A welcome email is on its way. If you don't see it, please check your junk folder. The next issue of West Coast Table will soon be in your inbox. Please try again Interested in more newsletters? Browse here. Olvera's train of thought went from rice to tortillas. Japanese chefs make sushi rice their own, just as their Mexican counterparts have different techniques for nixtamalizing corn, from the rinsing to the grinding. Like rice in Japan, corn isn't only a core food but a critical crop that Mexican livelihoods depend on. He was also struck by how simple but seasonal sushi is. 'Good tacos are kind of the same,' says Olvera. 'Those three components changed the way I understood tacos. And that's where we started to say, 'OK, you can make three-Michelin-starred sushi. You can also do that with tacos.'' Olvera opened his first restaurant, the two-Michelin-starred Pujol , in 2000. Around 2010, they started experimenting with tacos for the first time, and in 2011, they created a menu centred on them. When Pujol expanded in 2017, the revamp included a 10-seat taco omakase, Mexico City's first taco tasting menu, according to The New York Times , which remains today. His deep appreciation for the taco — Mexico's 'super democratic' food — and the native corn at its foundation, led to Olvera's latest cookbook, Sunny Days, Taco Nights (with Alonso Ruvalcaba, Phaidon, 2025). 'It's for everyone,' Olvera says of the taco. 'It doesn't matter which social class you are or age group. Everybody loves them. And also, one great thing is that it's very adaptable. So, if you're making tacos in Canada, Mexico or Brazil, there's always the possibility of adaptation.' Olvera and Ruvalcaba, a food critic and close friend, had long talked about writing a taco book. When they first added tacos to the menu at Pujol, Ruvalcaba was fascinated by the fact that they were 'courageous' enough to serve tacos in a fine-dining setting, Olvera recalls. 'He's somebody who understands Mexican taco culture profoundly. He's not only a thinker, but an eater, so it was great to collaborate with him.' Like his last cookbook, Tu Casa Mi Casa (2019), the 100 recipes are for home cooks. Olvera says he's always been interested in functionality and writing books people can use. Restaurant cookbooks may be beautiful and inspiring, but they're difficult for non-professionals to cook from. Sunny Days, Taco Nights is divided into four parts: classic tacos, original tacos, salsas and tortillas. Rooted both in their neighbourhoods and regions, taquerias in Mexico are very specific, says Olvera. The opening classics chapter features Mexican street tacos illustrating this specificity, such as Yucatán-style cochinita pibil, Sinaloa-style fish and Tijuana-style grilled tacos. The originals showcase Olvera's contemporary, composed creations, requiring more preparation and components. Pujol's earliest taco explorations are among them, such as avocado flautas, sea bass tataki al pastor, sea urchin, and fish chorizo tacos, showing applications beyond the traditional. 'That's the beauty of tacos — that they literally can hold anything. You go to Los Angeles, for example, and see Mexican-Korean tacos, and they work great. And also, it's important for people to understand that tacos are a way of eating. It's not only a dish. If you have tortillas, you could make a taco out of anything.' Pujol celebrated its 25th anniversary in May. When Olvera was at culinary school in New York in the late 1990s, 'contemporary Mexican cuisine' wasn't yet part of the conversation. Having been professionally trained in European techniques, Olvera writes that he didn't feel confident enough in traditional Mexican recipes to reinterpret them in the restaurant's early days. But when he started to play with the street foods he loved as a child, such as robalito al pastor and quesadilla, that began to change. 'What's nice now is that I think people feel very comfortable using Mexican cuisine as a creative platform instead of a heritage cuisine. Before, Mexican chefs and people from outside saw Mexican food as something that was traditional and old and something that we must protect, but not something that we can use creatively to complement our own story or as a platform to create something more personal.' Today, Olvera sees Mexican techniques and ingredients popping up in restaurants around the world. At home, there's a 'huge movement in almost every corner of Mexico' of small, contemporary restaurants. 'I'm the first promoter of traditional and classic food, but I think this complements the variety, and it's nice just to play around with food.' Conserving Mexican corn has become central to Olvera's work, and the cover of Sunny Days, Taco Nights showcases its diversity, ranging in colour from golden yellow to deep blue. Olvera highlights that though we tend to speak of ingredients in singular form, 'everything is plural.' 'With corn, the more we know, the more we realize it's a huge universe. Because it's not only the varietals or the families, but the singular plants and how they also adapt to the terroirs, the same as coffee or wine, I think this is how we're going to start approaching most of the crops, where we recognize the differences, even if they're subtle, of temperature, of altitude, and of the plant itself.' How you nixtamalize, mill and cook corn can also have a huge impact, as can the thickness and shape of the tortilla. 'It can be as profound as you want it to be, and it could also be simple. And that's fine. I think those are the best products, when they can be very simple, very comforting, but also super complex and profound.' Makes: 4 For the filling: 2 tbsp olive oil 1/2 white onion, finely chopped 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped 200 g (7 oz) bacon, finely chopped 300 g (10 1/2 oz) ground beef 300 g (10 1/2 oz) ground pork 2 tbsp soy sauce 1 tbsp Dijon mustard 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce 1/2 tsp black pepper Salt To serve: 4 crispy corn tortillas (store-bought) Guacamole (recipe follows) Pico de gallo (recipe follows) 2 lettuce leaves, chopped Lime wedges Heat the oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add the onion, garlic and bacon and sauté for 5 minutes or until the mixture begins to brown. Add the beef and pork and sauté for 10 minutes, until the meat is cooked through. Stir in the soy sauce, mustard and Worcestershire sauce, Season with the pepper and salt. Fill the tortillas with the meat filling. Top with guacamole, pico de gallo and lettuce. Serve with lime wedges on the side. Makes: 1 1/4 cup (300 mL) 1 serrano chili, thinly sliced into rings, with seeds 1 clove garlic 1/2 white onion, finely chopped 4 avocados, pitted and cubed 2 tomatoes, seeded and finely chopped Chopped cilantro leaves Juice of 3 key limes Salt In a molcajete or large mortar and pestle, crush the chili, garlic and onion into a paste. Add the avocados and gently mash. Using a spoon, mix in the tomatoes, cilantro and lime juice. Season with salt. Serve the guacamole in the molcajete or mortar and pestle. The guacamole can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 day. Makes: 1 1/4 cup (300 mL) 20 cilantro leaves, finely chopped 10 tomatoes, finely chopped (see note) 2 serrano chilies, stemmed and finely chopped 1 white onion, finely chopped Pinch of salt Juice of 1 key lime Combine all the ingredients in a bowl. The pico de gallo can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 day. Note: If you like, remove the tomato seeds to avoid excess liquid. Makes: 4 For the green chorizo: 2 large bunches spinach, leaves only 1 large bunch cilantro, large stems removed 1 small bunch parsley, leaves only 3 serrano chiles, stemmed 3 tbsp apple cider vinegar 1 tbsp salt 1 kg (2 lb 4 oz) ground pork 250 g (9 oz) lard 1 tbsp ground cumin 1 tbsp black pepper 1 tbsp ground coriander seeds 1 tbsp ground oregano 1/2 tbsp ground cloves 1 cup (100 g) chopped pumpkin seeds, roasted Scant 1 cup (100 g) chopped peanuts, roasted Scant 1 cup (100 g) chopped almonds, roasted 3/4 cup (100 g) raisins 2 tbsp olive oil To serve: 4 corn tortillas 1/2 white onion, finely chopped 10 cilantro leaves, chopped 4 lime wedges Your choice of sauces Fill a saucepan three-quarters full of water and bring to a boil over high heat. Meanwhile, prepare an ice bath by putting a little ice and water in a deep bowl. When the water begins to boil, add the spinach and herbs separately in batches. Cook each for 2 minutes, then transfer to the bowl with the ice to cool. Transfer the spinach and herbs to a blender. Add the serrano chiles, vinegar and salt. Blend until smooth. In a large bowl, combine the meat, lard, spices, pumpkin seeds, nuts, raisins and spinach mixture. Refrigerate for 2 hours to marinate. Heat a medium skillet over high heat. Add the olive oil and the marinated meat and cook for 10 minutes or until the meat is cooked through. Heat a skillet over high heat for 5 minutes. Add the tortillas, flipping them continuously for 2-3 minutes or until warmed through. Transfer to a plate and top each tortilla with 2-3 tablespoons of green chorizo. Serve with onion, cilantro, lime wedges and your choice of sauces on the side. Makes: 4 For the marinated prawns: 10 dried guajillo chilies 5 dried ancho chilies 1/2 white onion, coarsely chopped 3 cloves garlic 2 tbsp vegetable oil 15 raw prawns, peeled, deveined and diced 100 g (3 1/2 oz) Chihuahua cheese, grated For the bean paste: Scant 1/2 cup (100 g) black beans, soaked overnight 1/4 tsp salt 2 tbsp olive oil 1 white onion, finely chopped 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped 2 dried chiles de árbol To serve: 4 corn tortillas 4 tbsp bean paste 3 tbsp marinated prawns 1/2 white onion, thinly sliced 2 serrano chilies, stemmed and thinly sliced into rings 6 lettuce leaves, chopped Cilantro leaves, whole 4 lime wedges Put the chilies, onion and garlic in a saucepan. Add enough water to cover and bring to a boil over medium heat. Simmer for 10 minutes or until the chilies are softened. Drain. Transfer the onion mixture to a blender and blend into a thick paste. Preheat a skillet over medium heat. Add the oil, the prawns and the chili paste to the pan. Sauté for 7 minutes or until the mixture just starts to turn a deep red colour (or darkens). Sprinkle with the cheese and let it melt. Place the beans in a saucepan, then add twice the amount of water. Add the salt. Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer for 45 minutes or until the beans are softened. Heat the oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic, and sauté for 15 minutes or until the onion is caramelized. Add the beans with their cooking liquid and the chilies and cook for 15 minutes. Transfer the mixture to a blender and blend into a homogeneous paste. Heat a skillet over high heat for 5 minutes. Add the tortillas, flipping them continuously for 2-3 minutes or until warmed through. Transfer to a plate, spread 1 tablespoon of bean paste on each tortilla, then top with cheese-covered prawns. Top with the onion, serrano chili, lettuce and cilantro. Serve with lime wedges on the side. Recipes and images excerpted from Sunny Days, Taco Nights ©2025 by Enrique Olvera. Photography ©2025 by Araceli Paz. Reproduced by permission of Phaidon. All rights reserved. Our website is the place for the latest breaking news, exclusive scoops, longreads and provocative commentary. Please bookmark and sign up for our cookbook and recipe newsletter, Cook This, here .
