by Matt
I’ve had my eye on this place since we moved to Parc-Ex a year ago. You never know where you’ll find that little gem that may end up being the best of its kind in all of Montreal. Is Sicily Pizaa Halal one of these rare gems? Decidedly no BUT it was better than I thought it would be. I figured that while I was up on Ogilvy groce-ing at Marche J.P.A., Parc-Ex’s best source for good feta, I should finally do my duty and report back. Once again Julia was at work and since Ben (Franklin) was nowhere to be found I brought along Edward Montague, Esquire author of Legends of a Nunnery, the Castle of Berry Pomeroy, etc. as well as that all-time classic The Demon of Sicily. Ed refused to acknowledge whether or not he was any relation to the Earl of Sandwich Edward Montagus. At any rate, he proved to be curious if excitable companion.
Matt: Well, this doesn’t look half bad at all. All of the components of an all dressed slice are there. Cheese, green peppers and mushroom. This definitely isn’t one of those places that you take your out of town friends to to impress them. This is more of an “I don’t feel like cooking dinner, I just want something hot a gooey to put into my face” kind of thing. Which is fine. In my wildest dreams I had hoped that it would be better than any New York slice and that Montreal could finally claim a pizza equal to those storied Gotham pies.
Ed: (watching a young woman across the street) His dream too returned to his recollection with the dreadful sensations he had endured, but at the same time it brought to his imagination the visionary charms of the female; passion and curiosity impelled him to advance, while fear kept him back.
Matt: Yeah, it’s definitely better than that new Pizza Pizza that just opened up on Jean Talon.
Ed: Now, Benardo, I leave you to make your election; you have seen the result of a wicked and of a well-spent life, conduct yourself piously, and I will be your friend; act the reverse/ and I leave you to the common enemy of mankind, who will fawn before you to accomplish his dark designs, and finally rejoice over you when writhing in unutterable agonies such as you have but seen the guilty suffer, you toss on unfathomable boundless oceans of liquid fire.
Matt: Bernardo?
Ed: Fiend of Hell! My eyes have seen thy deed, my ears have heard thy speech, look up, before thee stands Ugo de Tracy! Thou, then art the husband of that Isabella who lies between us. There lies her head, this sword separated it from her body; it has the like office to perform on thee.
Matt: Fiend?
Ed: Yes, even if mountains had been piled upon thee, easily could I upraise them. Bernardo! Expect, me here to-morrow at midnight. Let not these vain fears prevent thee from profiting by my condescension.
slumming and unslumming 