Home-bound.

The Vietnamese use a specific verb to identify the action of going to Vietnam. They use "to return". Actually, more specifically, it holds the connotation of "returning home" to Vietnam. This is not only used by the Vietnamese diaspora, but also by the natives.

I had always wondered what it would feel like to return to Vietnam for the first time. I've always had strong inclinations towards my cultural roots, and always felt a tug in the direction of my home country. When I first got out of the airport, I didn't feel much of anything. It was when we started driving through the city that I realized: I'm home. Granted, it was night time and I couldn't see much, but it felt right and it felt like home, strangely.

I came home for the first time.

Foodism

Can't mention Vietnam without its amazing culinary repertoire. Sadly, I didn't have my camera for the majority of the trip, so most of the food I tried did not have their picture taken.

Charging. Clear! BZZT!

Time to revive my blog, I think.

So, back from Vietnam. Sadly, I only had my camera for the last week, so pictures are few. Here are some of them.

Vietnaming

Blog-posting will be on hiatus for a little while.

Foodism: Leméac

So, last night I discovered a nice restaurant: Leméac, on Laurier, Montréal. It is qualified as being a Café Bistro, but the menu seems to be a good representation of a good French restaurant. And without further ado and rambling, gratuitous Foodism:

Papaya and tomato gaspacho

House smoked salmon

Grilled calamari with zucchini and lemon zest

Tartare de boeuf (Sorry, vegetarians)

Duck leg confit with roasted fingerling potatoes and salad

The obligatory baguette bread

Lovestruck

And such.

Yes, I'm just bragging.

Moonlit night

Yesternight, timeless with its soft grey haze between the trees
and the moon. Which sighs, white silence drifting forth:
Cain’s parting gift.

Yesternight, restless stillness/dreamless darkness, blows cold
whispers to my fluttering drapes. Shivering heart, pulsing thoughts, I stand mesmerized, whiteness over my feet.

Yesternight, shadows cry mutely gainst the embrace of the moonlit fog
In pain in vain. I yell out in anguish, beating at the glass. Silence, stillness answer back.

Yesternight, I slept.