I’m eating the butteriest croissant, standing on a chic, tree-lined boulevard and listening to a French-talking foodie I met at the bakery. He’s pointing me towards his favourite restaurants, culminating in Caffe Un Po Di Piu: “You really have to go! And order the burrata - you must!”
But I’m not in France. This is Quebec, where a 12-night family stay showed me the perfect mishmash of European-style architecture and food fanaticism - and North American friendliness. Gaze confusedly at Google Maps for more than three seconds and a Montreal commuter volunteers the most scenic route or speediest shortcut.
