Falling for Quebec City

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This article was published 25/06/2011 (5429 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The European charm. The horse-drawn carriages. The ambrosia that is real maple syrup. Quebec City is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, utterly romantic.

But not everyone is blessed with a partner who swoons for this place. Maybe your significant other would rather go to the outlet mall for the weekend, or flop on the couch with wing sauce on his chin.

There is one person who will always fall for Quebec City, however. That would be Mother Dearest.

I’m not yanking this theory out of a cloud. I hauled my very own guinea pig to Quebec City in the summer.

“I’m not interested in military history,” my mom, Jaynie, declared. “For instance, I would want to say that I’ve stood on the Plains of Abraham … but I wouldn’t want to stand there for too long.”

This was a relief because I, too, long for a quick and painless death when faced with battlements, cannons and (dear Lord, spare me) antique muskets.

Thus, our battle cry was “Quebec City lite, s’il vous plait!”

Our hotel alone provided a historical backdrop to the four-centuries-old city. Situated in the Old Port, Auberge Saint-Antoine is an amalgamation of three buildings dating from the 18th and 19th centuries.

The key is that the Auberge occupies a space that used to be a wharf. Like any environmentally conscious community, the early residents of Quebec practised responsible garbage disposal: they chucked their junk off that wharf into the water — items such as coins, shoes, cutlery, egg cups, pipes, keys, toothbrushes and eye glasses. An archeological dig beneath the hotel in 2001 unearthed some 5,000 such artifacts; 500 of them reside at Auberge Saint-Antoine, where they are treated like the crown jewels of England — all spiffed up and presented in glass cases.

A Vancouver Islander, my mom immediately latched on to two activities that were foreign to her: 1. Gorging on maple products: Not just the syrup but whimsical treats such as maple soft serve, maple lattes, maple croissants and “maple sugar chunks muffins.” 2. Over-pronouncing French words: “I want to learn about” … dramatic pause … “la vie quotidienne” (daily life).

She relished saying casse-cou (breakneck), the name given to a treacherous set of stairs in the Old Port that used to be slick with animal excrement.

Below the casse-cou stairs, Petit Champlain Street provided the perfect bustling shopping strip for Mom. Bonus: 80 per cent of the products sold there (glassware, jewelry, art) are made in Quebec.

Another must-see in the area is the Marche du Vieux-Port, where an abundance of local farmers sell cheese, produce and cider.

The funicular rocketed us up to Vieux Quebec where — it must be said — the air is perfumed with eau de cheval. Due to the fact that my sinuses do an uncanny impression of Niagara Falls whenever I get within a continent of a horse, we didn’t partake of a carriage ride. But that is certainly something that might turn your mom’s crank.

Since one cannot subsist entirely on maple syrup (at least, not without dabbling in Type-2 diabetes), we ventured to Aux Anciens Canadiens for dinner, making it in just under the wire at 5:45 p.m. to partake of the set lunch menu.

The homey traditional atmosphere (blue and white china, gingham tablecloths, etc.) was appealing. So was the fact that our waiter was actually named Gaston.

The menu included a veritable Quebecois zoo: deer, caribou, bison, pheasant and a fearsome beast called wapiti (elk). Together, they made a tasty meat pie seasoned with cinnamon. Mom and I agreed that the restaurant was a winner.

Another rare find in Quebec City is the Morrin Cultural Centre, an English-language library that we visited the following day. Far more than a place where you can get a Danielle Steel novel, the library is a time capsule that seems to have been sealed up in 1868.

Mind you, there was a statue of General Wolfe perched on the balcony, so in keeping with our anti-military theme we didn’t stay long. Instead, we strolled around aimlessly and dawdled in the shade in the central square — the first time I lingered on a patch of grass with my mom since I started wearing a bra.

Being of the female persuasion, we made sure to hit up Simons, the department store founded in Quebec City in 1841.

Dinner that night was “Quebec Revisited” at Panache, our hotel’s fine-dining restaurant. My eyebrows leaped when mom showed up in a cleavage-accentuating black dress — not shabby for a woman of an age that I cannot possibly mention here.

It was a posh tasting menu ($95), consisting of lovely dishes that never graced our dinner table back home. Foie gras just didn’t jive with Hamburger Helper, you know? The first plate was an oyster served atop a bed of coarse sea salt, which my mom mistook for rice.

She loaded a generous portion of said “rice” on her fork and opened the hatch. You can imagine that flavour sensation.

Breakfast was also had at Panache: French toast served with caramelized apples, pecans and edible orchids.

“ORCHIDS?” my mom stared at the presentation with widened eyes before uttering a line that still makes me laugh: “Is this what Brad Pitt eats every day?” Well … she did say early on that she was curious about la vie quotidienne. Little did she know she was referring to Brad.

— Postmedia News

IF YOU GO

Hotel: Auberge Saint-Antoine is at 8 rue Saint-Antoine in the Old Port. For more information, see www.saint-antoine.com or call 1-888-692-2211.

Restaurant: Aux Anciens Canadiens is at 34 rue Saint-Louis in Vieux Quebec. For more, see www.auxancienscanadiens.qc.ca or call 1-418-692-1627.

More: For general information on Quebec City see www.quebecregion.com