You want to know how I genuinely react to food I absolutely, unequivocally enjoy? I fucking cuss. The swearing is impartial to genre or value, and it slips out whether I’m dressed to the nines doing my best impression of a lady at a swanky restaurant or slumming it in a run-down eatery.

Cussing tells me that I love, love, love what I’m eating.

I don’t control it. Only food can.

My foul mouth started firing before I even got to stuff it when I sat down for lunch at Sansotei – a ramen shop that made its debut last fall. The fumes emanating from the bowl were…I’m getting ahead of myself.

Hey, Toronto.

You’re my city for the next four months.

I’m hoping your food scene doesn’t live up to all the shit outsiders say about it, because I’d hate to think about all the money I’d be wasting and trash-talking I’d be doing if it were true.

No pressure.

So, where to for my first meal? As a self-proclaimed dumpling nut, it was only fitting that I start with a dumpling feast. Located near the corner of Spadina and College, locals and experts say Mother’s Dumplings is the place to be, so, I obliged.

Move over doughnuts, pies coming through.

Potentially starting a new trend, Rustique Pie Kitchen in St-Henri bakes fresh, wholesome pies daily to stuff your piehole with. Whole pies are available, as are mini ones that while cute, serve a greater purpose. Portion control? Don’t kid yourself. To fulfill your gluttonous need to sample a variety of flavors? Damn straight.

Before the doughnut wave, doughnuts were out of the ordinary when cupcakes reigned in Montreal. The only place I can think of that was whipping up fresh doughnuts at the time is Wawel. It’s still around today, and while it doesn't put out innovative flavors like its competitors do, it’s got decades of experience ahead of the newbies. 

I’m not a stranger to South Indian food, but that’s not because I get around to the close-to-none restaurants serving it around here. I’m lucky to have family friends that cook it daily and often spare a plate to feed me. As sweet of a deal as that is, I can’t appoint them to cater to my every craving – mainly because my mom frowns upon it. Otherwise, I would totally impose…because I’m shameless like that.

So, when South Indian restaurants are way too few and far between in Montreal, where’s a hungry human to go?

Last week, I finally got around to trying a Saint Donut doughnut. I’ve been following them closely on Twitter, where every week they tweet about the every-changing and creative flavors of their gourmet doughnuts – on sale at certain cafés and restaurants like Café Myriade, Café Plume and Le Gros Jambon.

I picked up an apple and Jameson fritter ($3.25) that was tame compared to the normally wacky options they put out. Think butterfinger, creamsicle and sweet potato & ginger to name a few.

Having eaten over a million dumplings to date, you’d think I’d be sick of them…but I’m not. Forever and always, I’ll be head-over-heels crazy and recklessly in love with those plump curves that fit so perfectly and explode in my mouth. Not to mention the fact that my very existence depends on them the same way other humans need air. Dumplings aren’t my addiction – they’re my life.

While I’m strongly devoted to Mai Xiang Yuan in Chinatown, I dig Fortune Dumpling and Bubble Tea – the new dumpling shop with a terrible name on Qing Hua Dumpling’s original downtown turf.

While La Cornetteria’s cornetti are celebrated all year round, the spotlight shifts to their awaited zeppole come March. They’re traditionally consumed on Saint Joseph’s Day, but this Little Italy bakery extends tradition by hooking us up with these Italian pastries all month long. That’s what’s up.

Piped in rounds and fried fresh every morning, each golden wonder is coated in white sugar before getting sliced in half to make room for lavish cream filling.

There’s only so much restaurants can make for breakfast. Eggs, meat, potatoes – typical. Benedicts – fancy. Pancakes, waffles, crepes – OK. But I’m not complaining. I love all that stuff. Some chefs get creative, building on the fundamentals, but that often comes at a price hike and portion reduction I’d rather save for an occasion when I can order as much as I want and have someone else take care of the bill. Most of the time, I want simple and honest food to start my day. Just season it well and cook it properly. That’s it. That’s all.

Apparently that’s a lot to ask for at Allô! Mon Coco, a cherished breakfast spot in Laval I can’t endorse.