New York Times book critic Janet Maslin recently picked Adam Gollner’s new book, The Fruit Hunters (Scribner: 2008), as a top summer read—and it’s easy to see why. Gollner writes mellifluously about his extraordinary (writ extraterrestrial) experiences traveling the world in search of fruits and the wacky people who devote their lives to this quest.

In the Seychelles, Gollner—or perhaps Adam is his best suited moniker—manages to get his hands on the uncannily female-looking coco-de-mer, or ‘lady fruit,’ whose “innards are translucent, almost like a silicon gel implant but with a softer, shaky-pudding texture” with “a mild citruslike quality, refreshing and sweet with earthy, spunky notes…like coconut flesh, only sexier.”

He then visits the jungles of Borneo to taste the intensely odoriferous “nutty, almondlike,” and “fully constructed dessert” of fresh durians, where the “juicy white cubes of flesh fuse a custard’s richness with a cakelike powderiness… topped with “vanilla-spruce frosting”—a far cry from the false gas leak alarm-spawning durians he got in Manhattan’s Chinatown, where they tasted of “undercooked peanut butter-mint omelets in body-odor sauce.” In Hawaii he tempts us with his description of the dusky brown chicos tasting of “maple syrup pudding,” and a host of other Neverland varietals such as bignays, gourkas, sapotes, mombins, langsats.

Over fruit smoothies one recent morning in Montreal, I met with Adam to discuss his new book and the sweet allure of the infinite world of fertilized flowers.

Below the jump: Win a copy of Adam Gollner’s The Fruit Hunters!

Zane Caplansky is not your average deli man, if there ever was such a thing. After a peripatetic culinary career which has included opening a tea house on the steppes of the Himalayas to managing an Indian pizza restaurant, Caplansky has now brought smoked meat manna to Montrealers living in the otherwise desert of corned beef-oriented Toronto.

A Toronto native, Zane’s been hooked on smoked meat since he was 16, when his then girlfriend took him to the famed Schwartz’s Deli in Montreal. A die-hard fan since, he has even been known to sneak away from ashram study north of the city to get his Schwartz’s fix. Now, he has brought the house-cured and smoked tradition to a tiny but fully outfitted kitchen in downtown Toronto, which includes an in-house smoker—a rarity today.

There’s only one thing better than knowing a cheesemaker. It’s when his cheese is ready and he invites you over for a rare tasting. That’s how I found myself recently on the Q train heading deep into Brooklyn to visit my friend Jamie Forrest (and his family), aka webmaster “Curdnerd” on the cheese blog of the same name. After a nine-month gestation, Jamie’s hard Jura cheese was ready, and I was one of the lucky few selected to sample this latest of his cheeses, similar in its nutty flavor to Comté. Jamie makes his excellent cheeses with raw, unpasteurized milk which he procures through his membership in a milk club (for more on the benefits of raw milk, see this past week’s New York Times article on the debate; for more on the benefits of raw milk cheeses, go to France). Jamie and his wife keep a kosher kitchen, so all his cheeses are both (unofficially) kosher as well as organic. A modern day alchemist of sorts, Jamie shares his thoughts with us here on the science and art of cheesemaking.

I’m like a kid in a candy store these days at the farmer’s market. Living on the northeast gives us only a few blessed months of amazing local variety. Making jam is a great way to literally preserve these fresh summer flavors for at least a few weeks. I posted an easy recipe over on Jewcy’s The Daily Shvitz, where I write regularly about food. If you so desire, you can use pectin to preseve it longer than a few weeks in the fridge, or do some research on other canning methods. Whatever your method, don’t be afraid of the sugar — jam is sweet like the summer.

Maybe it’s the wood-burning oven. Maybe it’s the giant mass of white dough on the back counter endlessly being cut and hand-rolled. Whatever it is, there’s something romantic about St. Viateur Bagel. Late night visits make it all the more so, especially when you snack on the piping hot bagels all the way home. In Montreal, bagels are not just breakfast: they’re dessert, lunch, dinner, or post-dinner treats. And in Montreal, bagels are not just food–they define this city.

Along with 2nd Avenue Deli in New York and Rascal House in Miami Beach, Ben’s Deli of Montreal has sadly been added to the list of dying delis in North America. Ben’s opened nearly 100 years ago on the famous Montreal stretch, “the Main,” (aka Blvd. St. Laurent/St. Lawrence), and was one of the first restaurants to offer the city’s now famous smoked meat sandwiches. Most agree quality declined in the past decade, but Ben’s was a favorite among locals, tourists, and celebrities alike. Famous politicians were known to frequent the deli, including our charismatic Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau, and current Quebec Premier, Jean Charest, who, I am told, enjoyed Ben’s matzoh ball soup on at least one occasion. Although I’ve always preferred Schwartz’s or Snowdon Deli (and Lester’s might soon be added to my list), it is sad to see Ben’s go.

It was Grand Prix weekend here in Montreal and to show my appreciation for motorized vehicles, I bought a bike. It has a basket expressly designed for carrying fresh Montreal bagels–at least it looks that way to me. One of my first destinations aboard my vintage gem had to be the Jean-Talon Market. According to some, the Jean-Talon Market holds the title for largest outdoor market in North America. Besides that, it’s where Montreal’s foodies and farmers (there are plenty of each) meet daily. Right now the only local fresh produce at the market is Quebec asparagus, though the strawberries have just begun to poke their heads too. This is Canada, after all, and Spring arrives a bit later here than south of the border. But the Jean-Talon Market also boasts an amazing variety of Quebecois prepared foods and specialties–everything from maple syrup and sugar pies to Ukrainian meatballs, Indian samosas, and North African pastries. Together it’s a testament to the special multiculturalism of this city. I for one had a hard time deciding between the many locally-produced chèvres (aged and fresh) at Fromagerie Qui lait cru!?!. Cheese curds are also a big local draw–great as a snack or melting ever so slightly over a plate of fries smothered in gravy, a favorite known here as poutine (more on that another time).