{"id":968,"date":"2020-07-30T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2020-07-30T04:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www-new2022.chezcora.com\/?p=968"},"modified":"2021-12-02T17:20:10","modified_gmt":"2021-12-02T22:20:10","slug":"le-reveil-samira","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/lettre-mme-cora\/le-reveil-samira\/","title":{"rendered":"Samira wake-up"},"content":{"rendered":"

Une fidèle lectrice veut connaître l’histoire du RÉVEIL SAMIRA. Alors la voici.<\/p>\n

Un matin de frimas, un homme magnifique entre chez nous avec un foulard de soie rouge autour du cou, une pelisse en tweed anglais et un sac en bandoulière en vrai cuir vert foncé. L’inconnu, âgé d’une cinquantaine d’années, arborant une abondante chevelure sel et poivre, une peau grillée juste à point, des sourcils encore très noirs et des yeux noisette à faire fondre la glace, hésite quelque peu avant de trouver un crochet où il pourrait suspendre son manteau.<\/p>\n

Il semblait surpris par l’aspect précaire de notre petit paradis. Quelqu’un lui avait sans doute parlé de nos déjeuners extraordinaires et il avait osé venir constater la chose par lui-même.<\/p>\n

Du fond de ma cuisine, j’ai aussi pensé que cet étranger de bonne famille était certainement habitué à de plus luxueux établissements.<\/p>\n

Notre Marie, la blonde de mon plus vieux, se foutait bien de l’habillement d’un client, de sa sacoche pleine d’argent ou des grosses bottes de construction qui salissaient son plancher chaque fois. Malgré ses manières et son langage très familier, Marie aimait tout le monde et servait chaque client comme s’il était la personne la plus importante sur la planète.<\/p>\n

- D’où arrivez-vous? lui demande-t-elle tout de go.<\/p>\n

- Allez-vous vous asseoir? dit-elle en le dévisageant.<\/p>\n

- Allez-vous manger des œufs? Il nous reste deux places au comptoir monsieur qui?<\/p>\n

- Je voudrais des fruits... si possible bien frais, murmura l’inconnu.<\/p>\n

- FRAIS, rétorqua Marie. Diable monsieur, nous n’avons que des fruits frais et d’où sortez-vous pour ne pas le savoir?<\/p>\n

- Tout le monde parle de vous dans la ville, lui répond l’homme mâchouillant le français.<\/p>\n

- Tout le monde parle de la belle-mère, pas de moi, riposte Marie en souriant. Elle est dans la cuisine, c’est de sa faute si on est tellement occupés. C’est son nom à elle sur la bâtisse, pas le mien.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Et PAFF, l’énigmatique ambassadeur des abricots s’approche de la cuisine et déverse sur moi une marée de compliments.<\/p>\n

Il savait que nous servions des fruits avec chacune de nos assiettes, tout le monde lui en avait parlé. Tous ses clients vantaient nos mérites, notre originalité et la qualité de notre nourriture, mais lui, il voulait seulement des fruits pour déjeuner.<\/p>\n

Parce que c’était son déjeuner favori à Beyrouth, du temps où sa mère lui apportait elle-même la belle assiette transparente toute remplie de pêches, d’abricots, de raisins, d’oranges et de figues à la chair mauve. Du temps jadis où sa grande famille vivait comme des princes. Du temps où il cueillait lui-même les abricots de leur grand jardin et les distribuait aux voisins moins fortunés.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Plusieurs assiettes abondantes de fruits frais plus tard, nous avons fini par connaître l’histoire de l’immigrant libanais devenu fleuriste et accusant une belle réussite sur le boulevard Décarie à Montréal.<\/p>\n

L’étranger magnifique est devenu un client régulier, presque un ami que nous nommions monsieur Samira du nom de son commerce.<\/p>\n

Et, croyez-le ou non, ce plat que nous lui avons servi contenant une dizaine de variétés de fruits frais joliment coupés, nous le servons depuis cette première journée où Samira est entré chez nous, c’est-à-dire fin octobre 1987.<\/p>\n

En l’honneur du fleuriste libanais, nous avons baptisé le plat RÉVEIL SAMIRA et pendant toutes ces années passées en cuisine, chaque fois qu’on servait un RÉVEIL SAMIRA, moi je pensais à sa douce maman. Dans ma tête, je l’entendais entrer délicatement dans la chambre de son fils, je la voyais replacer un drap et tendre l’assiette de fruits frais à son enfant à moitié éveillé. Et toutes ces années, j’insistais pour offrir les meilleurs fruits à nos clients, comme si chacun d’eux était mon propre enfant. <\/p>\n

Les fruits frais, minutieusement lavés et joliment coupés font partie de l’ADN de notre aventure.<\/p>\n

À mes débuts, j’étais du genre exaltée. Lorsqu’un curieux me demandait ce que j’allais faire avec ce concept de déjeuner je répondais toujours : vous allez voir cher monsieur! Quand on dit hamburger, on pense à McDonald non? Et bien, un jour quand on dira Cora, tout le monde pensera à déjeuner.<\/p>\n

Et savez-vous quel est le deuxième mot auquel les gens pensent après Cora? Déjeuners? Et bien non, c’est FRUITS FRAIS.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Fruits frais minutieusement lavés et joliment coupés.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Lorsque j’ai quitté notre premier petit resto de Montréal pour en ouvrir un deuxième en banlieue nord de la ville, je n’ai plus jamais revu monsieur Samira. Et cent mille fois j’ai pensé à lui et à la belle assiette de fruits que sa demande m’avait inspirée.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sans les encouragements de mes inestimables clients québécois, nos assiettes de fruits n’auraient jamais pu éblouir toutes les autres provinces canadiennes.<\/p>\n

Sans chacun et chacune d’entre vous qui me lisez aujourd’hui, je n’aurais jamais pu traverser ce confinement avec autant d’ivresse créative.<\/p>\n

Du fond de mon cœur, mille mercis à vous tous.<\/p>\n

        ❤️<\/p>\n

      Cora<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Une fidèle lectrice veut connaître l’histoire du RÉVEIL SAMIRA. Alors la voici. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":975,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-968","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":null,"contenu_en":"

A loyal reader would like to know the story behind our SAMIRA WAKE-UP. It goes like this…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One chilly morning, a dashing man came in wearing a red silk scarf around his neck, a tweed coat and a dark green leather bag slung over his shoulder. In his 50s, with thick salt and pepper hair, nicely tanned skin, dark eyebrows and hazel brown eyes that could melt ice, the stranger hesitated a little before locating a hook to hang his coat on. He seemed surprised by the precarity of our little paradise. He had no doubt heard about our amazing breakfasts from someone and had wanted to experience them himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the back of the kitchen, it was clear to me that this stranger, who was obviously from a good family, was used to more luxurious establishments. <\/p>\n\n

Our Marie, who was dating my oldest son and cared little about a customer’s attire, the thickness of their wallet or whether their big construction boots kept dirtying the floor. Despite her familiar manners and speech, Marie liked everyone and served each customer as if they were the most important person in the world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

- “Where are you from?” she asked straight off. <\/p>\n\n

- “Are you going to sit down?” she continued as she fixed her eyes on him.<\/p>\n\n

- “Will you be having eggs? There are two spots at the counter, sir. Okay?”<\/p>\n\n

- “I would like some fruit…very fresh, if available,” murmured the stranger.<\/p>\n\n

- “FRESH,” Marie shot back. “My goodness, sir, we only have fresh fruit, where are you from that you don’t know that?”<\/p>\n\n

- “Everyone’s talking about you in town,” answered the man chewing up his French. <\/p>\n\n

- “Everyone’s talking about my mother-in-law, not me,” quipped Marie with a smile. <\/p>\n\n

- “She is in the kitchen, it’s her fault we’re so busy. It’s her name outside, not mine.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And BAM, the mysterious ambassador of apricots approached the kitchen and showered me with compliments. <\/p>\n\n

He knew that we served fruit with each one of our plates, everyone had told him this. All his customers extolled our merits, our creativity and the quantity of our food. And yet he only wanted fruit for breakfast.  <\/p>\n\n

Because, you see, it was his favourite breakfast as a young boy growing up in Beirut. His mom would bring him a beautiful clear plate full of fresh peaches, apricots, grapes, oranges and purple-fleshed figs. A time long ago when his family lived like royalty. A time when he picked apricots from the large garden and shared them with less fortunate neighbours. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One fresh fruit plate after another, we learned the story of this Lebanese immigrant who became a florist and who at the time ran a successful shop on Décarie Blvd. in Montreal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The dashing stranger became a regular, more like a friend even, whom we called Monsieur Samira, which was also the name of his shop. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And believe it or not, we have been making the dish, containing some 10 varieties of fresh fruit attractively cut, ever since that day Samira visited our restaurant, sometime around the end of October 1987. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In honour of this Lebanese florist, we baptized the dish SAMIRA WAKE-UP, and all those years I spent in the kitchen, each time we served an order of SAMIRA WAKE-UP, I thought of his sweet mother. I could hear her quietly entering her son’s room, I saw her lovingly adjusting a sheet and offering her sleepy child the plate of fresh fruit. And throughout those years, I insisted on offering my customers the best fruit as if they were all my children. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fresh fruit, carefully washed and attractively cut, is part of our story’s DNA. In the beginning, I was buoyant with enthusiasm. When a curious mind asked me what I was going to do with this breakfast concept, I would answer: Just you wait and see! When you say “hamburger,” you think McDonald’s, right? Well, one day, when you say “Cora,” you’ll think breakfast.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And do you know what the second word people think of after “breakfast” when they say the word “Cora”? FRESH FRUIT.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fresh fruit, carefully washed and attractively cut. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I left our very first restaurant in Montreal to open a second one in an area to the north of the city, I never saw Samira again. I thought of him countless times and of the beautiful fruit plate that his request inspired. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without the encouragement of my dear Quebec clientele, our fruit plates would never have dazzled our guests in other Canadian provinces. <\/p>\n\n

Without each one of you who read me today, I never could have gotten through this confinement intoxicated with so much creativity.<\/p>\n\n

From the bottom of my heart, a thousand thank-yous to you all.<\/p>\n\n

        ❤️<\/p>\n\n

      Cora<\/p>"},"yoast_head":"\nLe R\u00e9veil Samira – Cora D\u00e9jeuners et d\u00eeners<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/mme-coras-letter\/le-reveil-samira\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Le R\u00e9veil Samira – Cora D\u00e9jeuners et d\u00eeners\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Une fidèle lectrice veut connaître l’histoire du RÉVEIL SAMIRA. Alors la voici. 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