Marche-ing to an Old Drummer

I once told a reporter from the Globe and Mail that I never stand in line to get into hot new restaurants, that it’s just not worth the wait. But back in the early 90s, there was one restaurant that my friends and I were happy to stand in line to get into, and that was Mövenpick Marché (181 Bay Street). Food snobs may scoff, but it was at Marché that I learned to enjoy Caesar salads, where my love of good coffee was nurtured, and where I developed a taste for rosti-style potatoes that I cannot shake to this day.

Marché was where we always took people from out of town. This was partially because the place was overwhelming in a “welcome to the big city” kind of way, but also because there was something for everyone. Once after an awe-inspiring performance by Montreal dance troupe La La La Human Steps across the street at the then-O’Keefe Centre,  we headed over to Marché for snacks, only to discover the dance troupe settled into one of the corner dining rooms enjoying dinner.

Continue reading “Marche-ing to an Old Drummer”