Our award-winning marijuana and mouth-watering smoked meat attracts mooks from all over North America and beyond. Some might ask: how do the two relate, other than being quintessential Montreal staples? As we have shown many times before, parallels can be drawn from the most obscure and bizarre of places when dealing with toots, especially if you’re high enough. Here at Mook-Life, you best believe we get high like gas prices and Quebec’s suicide rate around mid-February. When the smoke clears, we finna go get our grub on. I can honestly say that there are few things that satisfy me as much as a classic smoked meat plate when I got the major munchies. The two come together like drinking and bombing so it’s natural that we took the time to shine some light on the subject.

In this special edition Chronicles Of The Toots Man x Grub Life Mooksy Collins and I plunge in to the core of the matter. We reviewed two Sativa strains and two classic smoked meat spots. Being professionals with many years of experience, the data gathered is cunningly precise and is charted as official science. We hypothesized, experimented and analyzed. What follows is the breakdown of a mooked-out scientific method.

So it’s 4:20. Perfect time to see if this Lemon Skunk lives up to the high standards and qualifying characteristics of its name. How lemony and skunky is it really? Will it get us lifted like a Sativa should or give us a nasty downer with a bad case of pasties? Let’s find out.

Just like smoked meat, weed needs to be properly cured. Sometimes, even the best of crops can be spoiled due to people rushing and not taking the proper time to cure the buds in order to give it optimal smell, taste and potency. Often, strains get names like Strawberry Hashplant and the buds don’t smell anything like strawberries or hash. This Lemon Skunk definitely lives up to its name. As soon as I opened the mini mason jar, the sweet aroma of citrus mixed with the traditional smell found in that old-school skunk pierced though my nostrils like a fresh slab of smoked meat.

Lemon Skunk produces magnificent buds. This strain is truly beautiful and interesting looking. The genetics of this plant allow it to be easily grown both outdoors and indoors. Although it really flourishes when grown in a hydro system, this batch was done in an earth mixture and it came out close to perfect. The buds could have been just a bit more consistent but other than that it was groomed and raised real proper. The buds are iced-out, robed with a silky quilt of crystals. Sexy as fuck.

This bud has a particularly pleasant texture. No need for a grinder or scissors, if cured properly it simply opens with a gentle squeeze, like horny teenage lust. It’s one of those sticky buds that gives you a loud crunch yet remains nice and juicy at its core. It crumbles like a banging smoked meat breaking down into small, sandy particles, leaving the heavenly smell of skunky Hindu Citrol lingering on the tip of your fingers. Fuck yes.

Mooksy Collins: The most distinct element out the taste test was the soapiness, that familiar zing that lingers on a bit after the hit. I can’t say it was necessarily harsh, but definitely gave a good sting. I had some pretty serious coughing fits after the first few tokes. Very cerebral high, one of those where you catch everything get sharper and more in focus a few seconds in. Immediate action, know what I mean? It stimulates the mind but still delivers a slight drowsiness. If I could put a track to this high it would be some feel-good-yet-complex shit like this joint. Its a relaxed “thinking high” and gives wild munchies. Speaking of which, it really had me thinking about food, and Astra Deli is the next logical step on the trip. Let’s keep it moving…

Mooksy Collins: Everybody in the hood knows about this spot. I’ve seen mooks who haven’t been in NDG for decades get all emotional and nostalgic just from mentioning the name. Their specialty has always been breakfast and brunch at a low fare, but they also got that generic diner food. The Pakistani cats that run the spot are pretty chill, but sometimes they’re a little caught up in their day-to-day talkshit to serve you right away, fucking mooks. I remember once, I was copping some grub and their delivery guy kept saying: “fucking Persians, fucking fucking fuck, they give heroin to my niece, fucking fuck”. Mad funny, cuz he was being really loud and obvious about it, and I figured he could have just been saying it in his own language on the DL. He was definitely looking for trouble. Also, there’s something about the name, it has a distinct ring to it. Astra Deli. Shit sounds gangster. Somewhere a famous mobster would eat at.

To rate the seriousness of a restaurant, all you’ve got to do is simply walk in to the bathroom. If they keep it clean, good chances they also have a clean kitchen. If they have one of them toilet butlers that hands you a hot towel and sprays you with cologne, you’re probably at some fancy joint where they serve foie gras and have an extensive wine collection. At Astra, you get an all-star line up of tags and classic bathroom graffiti on the door. Another thing I must mention is the fact that only until recently they had a reusable towel for you to dry your hands. No hand dryer, no brown paper towels, just a dirty cotton towel that was the same color as Alf. Not to mention the mooked-out waitresses; cigarette-smelling single mothers with broken dreams that frequent Maz Bar regularly and call you “hun” when they serve you with coffee-driven enthusiasm.

How the fuck can a urinal be out of order? What that fuck happened to it? Did someone shit in it and clogged up the pipes? At these types of joints anything is possible. Regardless of the ghettoness, this spot is a Montreal hood classic. I’ve been coming here for years and will continue to do so as long as I live in this city. However, I never had their smoked meat. Mooksy has been steady slamming them shits down for the passed couple of months and he would often try to persuade me into his gluttonous, sinful ways, but I always refused. This time around, in the name of science, I caved in. Question is, will it get the All-City Chilleur stamp of approval? Let’s see what this is all about.

Mooksy Collins: So being a rapacious omnivore, I usually don’t get picky and instead I just devour whatever sandwich comes my way. I work right up the street from here, so every time that I get a smoked meat craving, this is the spot. They do the job and are quite filling, but for scientific review I’ve got to get a little more in-depth with it. The meat itself is not the crumbling type, it’s more of a melt-in-your-mouth joint, which is cool with me. On the down side, it’s a bit “hammy”. Smoked meat is supposed to be a notch up from ham in the cuts, so this is a clear sign of lower grade meat. The taste is fine, but it has a very slight, funky aftertaste. The crust of the meat lacks the peppered finish with that spiced crunchiness, as you can see from the pic. The bright side is if you like lean cuts, these are very lean. No string fat that gets caught in your teeth. The bread was fresh and of the right kind. I’ve had’em better before, but I guess you’ve just got to catch em when they get a fresh delivery.

Even though the plate follows the classic coleslaw/fries/dill pickle combo, the smoked meat itself lacked the crumbly texture and peppery spiced crust which makes a Montreal smoked meat sandwich unique. A plate like this might temporarily suppress a slight craving, but let’s just say I wont be coming to Astra when I finna get my smoked meat on. Far from it. The homie Nume mentioned that New System BBQ in St-Henri has a better sandwich, something I didn’t expect to hear. Maybe next time I’m out there I will investigate the claims.

Mooksy Collins: Enter the vapor chamber… this is the Lemon Skunk high in full effect. You think he’s reading that magazine? Yeah right. We’re mad geeked up.

Respect the hairs on this bud. The infamous Vortex. The future of weed. The strain won the 2010 Cannabis Cup for best medical Sativa. This shit ain’t no joke, dunny. Just look at it. Shit looks vicious as fuck. Although it’s a Sativa dominant, it has a dash of Indica, which gives it a unique kick. The buds are bright green with rooster-like orange feathers covering the whole body. Oh boy, just by looking at it I could right away tell that this was going to be something very intense.

The Vortex buds are drenched in crystals. Each nug consists of many smaller stink nuggets that look like tiny, hairy snowballs. Some buds are so white that you can hardly see any green. The irregular stretched-out shape and long hairs give it a beautiful, exotic look. Something you might see on a BBC special with David Attenborough wobbling around the jungle.

This is one of them super-pungent room reekers. The best way to describe the smell would be a mix of baby vomit mixed with rotten fruit. It has a unique fragrance that I absolutely adore. Every time I get something that has that baby puke smell I get super exited, cuz I know that it’s some exotic-ass Sativa. This shit is too good to be true. Let’s see how it delivers.

Mooksy Collins: Boom, the golden herb! See that high-energy glow? That’s space and time being ripped apart in order to open the “vortex”. To be honest, this shit was so powerful that it’s hard to review. It tastes like fermented sweet mangoes. Super heavy smoke that lingers around like a hot fart. It’s smooth on the throat, but still has a faint spice with a dash of soury citrus that clings to the tongue. The high was very distinct and powerful as hell. This strain holds its name right, it sends you right through the vortex on some Black Hole shit. Kind of stuff that makes you give that blank stare, it’s surreal as hell. I couldn’t even eat my whole plate I was so zoned. That there is a good description, this is not a “munchies and giggles” kind of herb, this is more like low dose magic mushrooms. It’s a very clear high though, not something that will put you to sleep, and it lasts really long. It will put your thoughts into hyperdrive and sometimes you’re so concentrated that you might not be able to follow at reality’s pace, cuz you go too fast. It was great for zoning and making beats, but if you get too deep on this one you can get lost, for real. A very intense weed that’s not for the weak-hearted, this high feels more like one of these type of tracks. For real, it was a bit too much for me at times. I prefered the Lemon Skunk because it was also a very potent psychadelic, but minus the anxiety and shit. If you’re living trife and got 99 problems, do yourself a favor and leave this strain alone.

A fat blunt to get us nice and medicated for the long journey to our next smoked meat spot: Pete’s Smoked Meat. This joint is located in what we call the Far West. About a 25 minute ride on highway 20, it’s the first food location you hit as soon as you cross the bridge from St-Anne’s to Ile Perrot leaving Montreal behind. Even though Ile Perrot is off the Island, it remains in the 514 zone, so we give it a pass and consider this place to be a Montreal staple.

Mooksy Collins: Now you see, when a resto has its own delivery vans, you know they’re doing something right. They don’t need no “a la carte express” to do the dirty work. They got their own fleet on lock and that’s what you call “market demand”. Bump that “Jeazer” tag! Boonies bombing all day every day.

This place is as official as it gets. In this photo you can see that Pete, the legend himself, still works his ass off in the kitchen every day, providing top quality product to his fans. The man is somewhat of a local hero. Everyone around the area knows about Pete and his famous smoked meat. The slogan is “You Can’t Beat Pete’s Meat” which in itself is pause-proof. Let’s see what the hype is all about.

At the order counter it’s a whole other story. When you have 3 mooked-out city slickers all zoned out on some powerful Vortex and a cunty teenage suburbanite who hates her job, there’s bound to be some problems. I mean, I don’t know what the fuck was up with her, but the bitch at the counter was acting like a real cuntscab. She had the type of attitude you won’t even see at the Plamondon KFC on a busy Tuesday night. One of them not-smiling, eye rolling, “hurry up with your order” type of counter girls that makes you want to duff her in the face, one time. God forbid you ask for something extra or change your mind mid-sentence. Jesus. All this, plus the fact that they don’t take Interac, mixed with tons of stoner confusion and awkwardness made it an unpleasant start to a meal. Hopefully the food can make up for the shitty service.

Mooksy Collins: For real, everyone was hating on the bitch at the counter, but she was mad cool with me. She looked a little intimidated, though. She misquoted my price because the shyness had her off-point, and kept apologizing. I think we were making them nervous, they aren’t used to seeing city-mook breed around here…

Pete is the motherfucking man. Although his fine establishment in Ile Perrot has only been around since 2000, Pete has been in the meat industry since the late seventies, learning about the trade when he was working for his pops at the Main. Its rare to see the owner hustling in the kitchen on the daily, which shows a high level of dedication and commitment, something I respect enormously. Pete is like an experienced grower that knows exactly what he’s doing. Another one of his unique qualities is his passion for Blues. He’s the winner of the 2008 Lys Blues Prize in the “Best Blues Promoter” category. Ain’t that some shit. So if you’re lucky like we are, you might come through just as the daily live Blues act is about to start playing.

Mooksy Collins: Wow, this smoked meat was amazing! One the best I’ve ever had, no word of a lie. It was crumbling up into nice little pieces, just like that nicely cured weed crumbles up at the slightest touch. The meat-to-fat ratio was super on point, and the crust was flavorful and had that crunch to it. You could taste the marinade and the bread was day-fresh. I’ve been fiending for another one of these for the past 2 weeks because it’s just that good. The coleslaw is super on point, but Pete’s is renowned for its fries. They got that flavor you only get from good, clean oil and fresh potatoes. For real, fuck Shwartz’s and all that overhyped yet only slightly above-average shit, Pete’s is the truth. It’s crazy too, cuz just as I took my first bite this band started playing, perfect timing. Just like when you hear choirs as you see that fly woman walking by in the movies.

Live music is always a plus, but sometimes it can get a little intense. Shit is cool while the smoked meat is still on the table but once it’s gone, I finna GTFO from the spot with the quickness. If Blues is your thing, this might be paradise for you. Personally, I’m more of a jazz fan, so there was only so much of this that I could bear before wanting to get out and bun one down.

Mooksy Collins: Yeah, the atmosphere here was crazy, mad red and purple lights, tons of backwater mooks and crazy Blues music. The Vortex high had it feeling like a scene out of a Tarantino movie, for real.

After carefully analyzing the facts and variants that resulted from our studied subjects, we came to some conclusions: just because the place is a Montreal classic, don’t mean that they serve classic Montreal-style smoked meat. If it doesn’t crumble and melt in your mouth, and it doesn’t have that peppery spiced crust, it ain’t the real deal. Things such as smoked meat should be enjoyed at specialized establishments who have mastered the art. Just because the place is not located on the Island of Montreal, doesn’t mean that it can’t have some official-ass Montreal-style smoked meat. Pete’s spot is up there in the top five along with with the big boys from the inner city.

Sativa stains generally hold uplifting, energetic, brain-stimulating, cerebral high type characteristics, but there are always exceptions to the rule. Strains like the Vortex can leave your ass in a daze, looking like a constipated zombie for a good hour. Last time I smoked it after smashing, my girl was straight traumatized after noticing the total absence of life presence in my eyes. Little did she know I was space traveling and thinking about shit I would normally keep in a secured safe buried somewhere deep inside my brain. This medical MJ ain’t nothing to play with. Smoke enough and I bet you can have slight hallucinations, no joke. Unlike with smoked meat, the vast diversity and differences in marijuana make it that much more enjoyable. Each strain has a purpose, place and time. With this being said, the highly potent medical shit should be treated like a harder drug and approached with respect, or it might just catch you off-guard and screw up your outing. You’ll be sitting at the booth, pale as fuck, looking like Capser the friendly ghost thinking about some wild shit while your food is getting cold. Kind of like Mooksy Collins at Pete’s a few weeks ago.