Dieu du Ciel

I'm feeling crap. And rise at 8. Gulping down some of my cold medicine.

We're supposed to be going to Tim Horton's for breakfast. But I really don't feel up for it.
The kids drop by my room at around 10. Then head off to Tim Horton's. I feel really shit.

"Get me a roast beef sandwich. Or a breakfast sandwich." I ask them.

“OK.”

The kids are gone for a while. Hopefully the cold medicine will kick in soon. My nose is running like a tap. Most annoying.

The kids return a little before 11. With a breakfast muffin for me. And a pile of stuff for Alexei. Nothing for Andrew. Who has to throw up. Then crawls into one of the beds and falls asleep. He’s not much of a morning person.

The sandwich livens me up a bit. Which is good. Alexei and I watch some TV while Andrew sleeps. This is going to be an exciting day.

Around 13:00 me and Alexei go the convenience store, as we've run out of soft drinks. And beer. We pick up a few other things, too. Like a bottle of pinot noir. I also get a roast beef sandwich from Dagwood, the sandwicherie in the shop. I manage to conduct the whole transaction in French.

Andrew isn't looking much livelier when we return. He's still crashed out in bed.

"What's the plan for today?" I ask Alexei.

“We could go to a brewery.”

“Sounds good to me.” I reply.

“It’s not hard to persuade Dad to go to a brewery.” Andrew declares.

“Nor you.” I retort.

I have a look at the places that have been suggested to me. The name Dieu du Ciel cropped up a couple of times. It's not too far away. That'll do.

We set off about 14:30. We should catch it at a quiet time. The neighbourhood it's in seems pretty lively. Lots of shops, restaurants and bars.

Dieu du Ciel has quite a pubby feel. Reinforced by the presence of two handpulls. And a Cask Marque sign by the entrance. Which is a good sign, if you’ll excuse the pun It's deserted inside and we have our choice of seats.

“Ooh, look!. They've got a cask Mild.”

"You get excited so easily, Dad." Andrew retorts.

“I know. It's wonderful, isn't it?”

“No, not really.”

“You really know how to make me feel good about myself, Andrew.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean that in a positive way.”

“I know, Dad. I understand irony. Unlike you.” Andrew says. “And don’t tell me to fuck off, like you usually do.”

“Go frig yourself.”

“Very original. You twat.”

“Who’s resorting to profanities now?”

“Just shut up, Dad.”

“I was waiting for that. One - nil for Dad.”

“This isn’t a football match.”

“No, it’s a much more important competition.”

“Fuck off, Dad.”

“That’s two – nil.”

I get a pint of Mild, obviously. It's really rather nice. The kids go for something Lagery. There's a really good variety of beers on offer. Two cask beers (the other is an Ordinary Bitter), two Stouts, Bavarian Helles and Amber, a Hefeweizen and, of course, a couple of IPAs, including a non-sludge one.

We order some food: poutine and fried chicken. The poutine is excellent. The best we've had so far.

I have a London Stout next. It's on nitro but is packed with roast flavours. At 5.6% ABV, it’s like an interwar London Stout. Andrew seems to be working his way through the full beer range. As he does. You can’t accuse him of being unadventurous when it comes to beer.

A middle-aged bloke comes over and comments of Alexei's shirt. He's wearing A Montreal Canadiens jersey that I bought for him the first time I was in Canada, more than a decade ago. The bloke is very surprised that someone from Amsterdam should have the shirt.

After 17:00 it really starts to fill up. This seems like a very popular spot. No surprise there. The beers are all excellent and it’s a really cool place. The best brewpub we’ve been to so far. I can understand why several people recommended it to me.

I switch to Peche Mortel, an Imperial Coffee Stout. It's also dead good. I'm very impressed with the beers here. The kids seem pretty happy, too.

“Going for the strongest beer again, eh, Dad?” Andrew remarks, rather aggressively.

“I just happen to like Imperial Stout.”

“And Barley Wine and Quadrupel.”

“What can I say? I like full-bodied beers.”

“Right. Beers that just happen to be high in alcohol.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re fooling no-one, Dad.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Not even yourself.”

The kids nip to the SAQ just down the road to stock up on booze. They get me a bottle of Canadian Club 1858. Which comes in the weird size of 1.14 litres.

We leave about 19:30. With the kids getting more beer in the nearest little shop.

The rest of the evening is pretty quiet with me sniffling while sipping whisky and watching shite on the TV.

Sleep comes knocking around midnight.


Brasserie Dieu du Ciel
21 Av. Laurier O,
Montréal, QC H2T 2N2. 
http://dieuduciel.com/