Back in 2002, I moved to a small insular community in the Gatineau Hills. A few weeks after taking possession of the basement apartment I’d live in for a year, I went to the casse-croûte down the hill a couple of blocks from my place to grab some dinner. The place was jam packed and when I came in, all heads turned to the door, hostile eyes boring into me. I sat down and ordered a meal, hearing chatter about me from all corners of the restaurant. It was rude and unpleasant talk, full of assumptions. This was not the small town life I had hoped to find. Needless to say, the experience has stayed with me!

I was reminded of it tonight, only this time, the ending is a lot happier!

I ran into Patti the other day and she rebuked me for not having come for a meal at her place in a while. The only reason is that I favour takeout when I grab a meal on Isla (unless I’m doing a vacationy meal on the beach) and her meals are dine-in only. But I promised that I would stop in this weekend. Going for brunch didn’t pan out, so that meant dinner there tonight.

When I came in, I was surprised to find her dining room packed to the rafters! Now, it’s a small room, so we’re only talking about six or seven people. They all turned and stared at me like they had never seen a Canadian before. The looks weren’t hostile, nor were they curious. They were surprised.

Thankfully, Patti came out of the kitchen very quickly and told me to grab the last empty chair. I plonked myself in it and asked for enchiladas. The other diners took one last look at me and turned back to their meals and their chatter, which had nothing to do with me. I settled in to wait for my food and watch a very interesting documentary on National Geographic about Air France flight 447. Even with the lack of subtitles and the chatter around me, I was able to understand more than enough to follow the riveting narrative.

My meal came out quickly and was delicious, no surprise there! I took my time and even finished the entire cup of caldo since there was quite a bit of crema and the two mixed together are just plain delicious. Cost of the meal, including a tip for her daughter, was just $50 (4CAD or 3USD).

Sometimes folks talk to me when I go to Patti’s, but not tonight; they were wrapped up in their own discussions. That suited me just fine. I wasn’t in much of a chatty mood and was happy to just watch TV and eat my food.

Patti is starting to jazz up her restaurant a bit. She has really cleaned up her entrance and added lights to make the place more evident at night. The dining room is as it always has been, just a bare concrete room with plastic tables, but she added a ton of Christmas decorations in the last couple of weeks, making the place quite cozy. It’s not five-star dining, but it’s not meant to be. I know I can count on her to serve me an inexpensive and delicious home-cooked meal, and sometimes, that’s all I want. I feel like the guardian of one of Isla’s best-kept secrets and am not sure I want Patti’s regulars getting used to seeing Gringos! 🙂