Translation: Lu Xun's Voice, II
Jennifer Quist translates this second piece by Chinese author Lu Xun, work that was carried out as part of her post-graduate work at the University of Alberta. The first piece appears here.
Yes, Virginia, it is still possible to make things happen without a lot of money. The secret is a lot of work, creative energy, and collaboration, in this case between Popcorn Youth, Kinfolk Magazine, Foodlab chef Michelle Marek, and a brand-new bar called Alexandraplatz, open just for the summer in a rugged corner of Esplanade.
People are sitting outside at a couple of picnic tables as you turn north from St. Zotique. Inside, long tables are set with baskets of bread, vases of flowers, and ice buckets with bottles of wine.
Co-hosts Natasha Pickowics and Theo Diamantis of Oenopole introduce the evening and the Domaine du Gros ‘Noré Bandol Rosé.

Chef Michelle Marek prepares the cheese
The meal consists of Le Grand Aïoli, breads and cheeses from Kamouraska, and a perfect strawberry tart. The wine is pale, nuanced, and perfect. The company is lively. Fun!
When you leave, about 10 p.m., the second sitting is starting to arrive. Up next, a September date at the newly opened PHI Centre space in Old Montreal. And, in the meantime, an opportunity to check out more of Marek’s work, with Seth Gabrielse, at Foodlab, or Labo culinaire, at SAT Société des arts technologiques on Saint-Laurent.
© Linda Leith 2012
July postscript: There's a great New York Times review of Foodlab here.
Jennifer Quist translates this second piece by Chinese author Lu Xun, work that was carried out as part of her post-graduate work at the University of Alberta. The first piece appears here.
Phillip Ernest elaborates on his life in Toronto, the city to which he fled at the age of fifteen, on his first university studies there when he was thirty, and on the writing of the Sanskrit vampire story entited The Vetala that LLP publishes on March 10th.
It’s absurd to compare the Pier, not to mention the giant Ferris wheel circling above the beach, to the gleaming perfection of the famous Assembly rooms in Bath, but absurdity is intrinsic to the Pier, so all comparisons are sublimely ludicrous.
