Features
Former Winnipeggers Ari & Pablo Schor have Canada’s 8th best restaurant
Since 2016 “Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants” (https://canadas100best.com/), edited by Jacob Richler, has been publishing lists of the 100 best restaurants in Canada. This year the list was determined by a panel of 135 judges.
As the Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants website explains, “Our judging panel is a balanced mix of informed culinary enthusiasts, food writers and critics, chefs, restaurateurs and other food service professionals. Their number in each province and region is proportional to the population. Judges were asked to vote for restaurants based on the complete dining experience provided – service, decor, the depth of the cellar and, above all else, food quality…each judge must vote for a minimum of three restaurants outside of their home region.”
Year after year, Montreal restaurants have consistently dominated the selections – and the most recent edition of “Canada’s 100 Best” is no exception – with 27 of the top restaurants being situated in Montreal. (Toronto had 18 on the list, Vancouver -15, Ottawa – 8, Calgary – 7, and Halifax – 4.
Winnipeg, alas, had but one: “Deer and Almond.”)
Placing number eight on the list, however, was a restaurant that had actually first made it on to the list last year, when it placed in 16th place: “Beba.”
Beba,” which is located in Verdun, a borough of Montreal, has only been opened since 2019.
What might make Beba especially interesting for readers of this paper is the fact that it is owned and operated by two brothers who grew up in Winnipeg – after having moved here with their parents from Argentina in 1997.
Ariel and Pablo Schor are the sons of Monica and Eduardo Schor. Their aunt and uncle, who also came to Winnipeg in 1997, are Anna and Carlos Schor.
Ariel (who prefers to be known simply as Ari, and who was born in 1984) and Pablo (born in 1986) are both former students at Gray Academy, with Ari having graduated from there in 2001, while Pablo went to Gray Academy until the end of Grade 10, whereupon he transferred to the University of Winnipeg Collegiate for his final two years of high school. Ari also told me that he went on Birthright in 2002, Pablo some years later.
Beba is a quite small restaurant, seating only 28, but its reputation is such that you would need to make a reservation at least a month in advance in order to have a table there.
Here is what Canada’s 100 Best 100 Restaurants had to say about Beba: “THIS COZY 28-SEAT BISTRO on an out-of-the-way corner in Verdun is staying true to its Argentinian and Jewish roots while expanding its range. To wit: Spanish and Italian influences artfully mashed up via imported seafood, as exemplified by chef (and co-owner) Ari Schor’s Iwashi Montadito. This dish features Japanese sardines prepared Spanish style on sesame toast, with butter, horseradish and chives. Consider it a nod to schmaltz herring. As they hit their fourth birthday, Schor and chef de cuisine Dixon Cone are expanding their offerings while keeping menu favourites, such as their famous empanadas, along with Swiss chard– wrapped involtini and grilled rabbit, best enjoyed on Beba’s diminutive summer patio. You might find firefly squid when they can get it, or guinea fowl with chorizo and saffron-laced caldoso. To this mix, add brother Pablo and sommelière Anaïs Flebus, whose old-world wine list showcases organic, minimal-intervention bottles. The Schors’ convivial and unstuffy neighbourhood restaurant is worth a detour.”
Recently, I managed to speak to Ari Schor – just after he had helped put to bed his two daughters, Isabel, age 4, and Olive, age 2. I asked him how he had come to end up in the restaurant business in Montreal, and how did he and Pablo get the idea to open their own restaurant?
Ari explained that, after graduating Gray Academy, he took the culinary arts course at Red River College. He told me that he had always had an interest in preparing food from scratch. “I have pictures of me rolling fresh pasta when I was 10,” he said.
His first job in a Winnipeg kitchen was at the Fairmont Hotel, Ari noted, followed by stints at the Lobby on York, and Pizzeria Gusto (on Academy).
In 2012 Ari left Winnipeg for Montreal, when he began working at the well-known “Joe Beef.”
In 2013 he moved over to Liverpool House, which is owned by the same owners as Joe Beef. Ari became head chef there. Perhaps his most famous moment during his time there came in 2017 when he cooked dinner for Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and a recently-retired President Barack Obama.
Pablo Schor took a somewhat different route into the restaurant business. He attended the University of Manitoba, where he studied small business management and human resource management.
After graduating, Pablo went first to Vancouver, but Ari says that he and Pablo had long talked about opening their own restaurant.
An article in the Montreal Gazette described the challenges that awaited the brothers – much to their chagrin, in opening Beba: “They opened Beba in the late summer of 2019, having sunk their life savings, $200,000, into the spot. Seven months later COVID-19 came and they had to shut down. On top of that, Ari’s daughter Izzy was just born.
“ ‘I contemplated becoming an electrician or a refrigeration specialist, something, anything, to pay the bills,’ Ari recalled. ‘We poured everything we had into this place. But I’m so glad we stuck to our dream. For lack of a better phrase, the proof is in the pudding now.’”
I asked Ari why he and Pablo chose to open quite a small restaurant in Verdun which, until a few years ago, was mainly a working class neighborhood of Montreal (as opposed to downtown Montreal, which is where most of the other restaurants on the top 100 list are located)?
He answered that there were two reasons: The first is “you have to stand out and be unique on a quiet street,” while the second reason is that “when you’re starting out, you want to start small.”
Ari added that because “a small space means small storage,” Beba changes its menu just “about every second day.”
And, while the restaurant does attempt to source its foods locally, Ari says that “local produce is not really our ethos…We want the best we can serve,” he says.
“We’re getting white asparagus from Holland, for example,” he notes.
As for what roles they play in the restaurant, while Ari is the head chef, Pablo “is a very experienced bar tender” with an extensive knowledge of wines, Ari adds.
Also, Pablo’s business training equips him to handle the front of the house, as well as bookkeeping duties, Ari says.
While the restaurant seats only 28, the fact that it is so consistently busy had led to Beba employing a staff of 18. But, because Ari knows firsthand how grueling it can be working in a restaurant – often starting at 10 in the morning and working until well past midnight – he and Pablo have deliberately organized the restaurant’s schedule so that no employee – including the owners, will ever have to work more than 40 hours in any given week.
“It takes a lot of time to change the way we work in restaurants,” Ari observes, but “Covid taught us what’s really important,” which is to maintain a proper work-life balance.
Since Ari already told me that he has two daughters, I ask him whether he’s married. (You can’t assume anything.)
He said that his wife’s name is Ashley Joseph and that her father is from Israel.
That got me to wondering about the Schor family itself and where Ari and Pablo’s grandparents came from – since I guessed that, like almost all Argentinean Jews, they had emigrated to Argentina from Europe in the first half of the 20th century.
“Our grandfather on our father’s side is from Romania,” Ari answers, while “our grandmother on our mother’s side is from Poland or Lithuania.” (He wasn’t quite sure which.)
As for their mother’s parents, their grandfather is from England, while their grandmother is from Germany.
I said to Ari that his and Pablo’s ancestry is reminiscent of so many Winnipeg Jews’ ancestry, and that it was probably just luck of the draw that drew their grandparents to Argentina rather than Canada or the U.S.
The fact that one of their grandparents was from England also led to their speaking English, as well as Spanish, when they were growing up in Argentina – which was of tremendous benefit when they both started school in Winnipeg.
In fact, Ari told an amusing story about his first year at Gray Academy, when he would have been 13. He said that he was a very quiet student – and his teacher naturally assumed it was because he had difficulty speaking English. But, when he took a reading comprehension test – and aced it, the teacher was somewhat astonished, and asked Ari why he had kept his ability to speak and understand English such a secret?
Returning to Beba – and what all the acclaim has meant for Ari and Pablo, Ari suggests that “you shouldn’t go after accolades, you should go after goals.
He says that one of his biggest recent thrills was being able to cook for Gail Simmons (whom I had never heard of, apparently because I never watch the Cooking Channel). Simmons has been a judge on Bravo’s Emmy-award winning show “Top Chef “ since 2006, according to Wikipedia.
When I ask Ari whether, given the enormous success that Beba has enjoyed in the relatively brief period since it opened, he and Pablo have any plans to expand the restaurant or perhaps open another one, he answers, “I’d rather not have two mediocre restaurants. I’d rather have one that’s always improving. For now, we’re very happy running the restaurant.”
Features
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Features
Israel pavilion ambassadors – then and now
By BERNIE BELLAN Given that Folklorama is on again and the Israel pavilion – Shalom Square, is in full swing, I thought it timely to resurrect an article I first posted to this website in August 2023.
But before reading that article, I wanted you to see who this year’s ambassadors are for Shalom Square:
It was back in 2023, however, that I set out to answer a question that I had asked our readers to help answer: Where was the very first Israel pavilion located? Some readers had thought it was the Golden Age Club, which used to be located on Pritchard and Salter. But others weren’t so sure. Here then is what I wrote back in August 2023 – when, with the help of a librarian at the Winnipeg Public Library, I was able to solve the riddle of where the first Israel pavilion was located:
It was earlier in August 2023 that I had raised a number of questions about the history of the Israel pavilion at Folklorama.
Among those questions were: Where was the first Israel pavilion located and when did the Israel pavilion actually become a permanent fixture in the YMHA on Hargrave (before moving to its current home in the Asper Campus)?
As part of my search for answers to those questions I turned to David Cohen, who had long been the coordinator of the Israel pavilion when it was located on Hargrave, but who didn’t step into that role until 1975.
David thought that the Israel pavilion hadn’t moved to Hargrave until 1974, but he wasn’t sure where the first Israel pavilion had been located.
I tried to find information using the Winnipeg Public Library online digital archive. In case you didn’t know, anyone with a library card can access the library’s online archive. You can also have access to newspaperarchive.com through the library’s digital archive. Newspaperarchive.com is an invaluable reference tool for journalists especially – or anyone wanting to access old newspaper archives, for that matter, but ordinarily you would need a subscription to newspaperarchive.com in order to use it. For some reason, however, the search function in the Winnipeg Public Library’s digital search engine didn’t produce results when I entered the word “Folklorama.”
As a result I called the Winnipeg Public Library for assistance and received great help from someone by the name of Louis-Phillipe. After taking my information, Louis-Phillipe phoned me to say that he had found out that the library had compiled a file of press clippings related to Folklorama going back to the very first year, 1970.
Further, Louis-Phillipe said, he had found a list of the 22 pavilions in that first year of Folklorama, along with where they were located. It turns out that the Israel pavilion was actually located in two different venues that first year: the Rosh Pina and the Shaarey Zedek.
The next day I also heard from reader Phyllis Dana, who confirmed that the Israel Pavilion had been in both synagogues. Phyllis also remembered that the only food served that first year was honey cake.
But the pièce de resistance came when I heard from reader Marilyn Breitman (née Stitz), who now lives in Calgary, when she phoned me on Monday, August 21 (which is when she received the August 16 issue of the paper with my story about Folklorama).
Marilyn told me that, not only did she remember that the first Israel pavilion alternated between the Rosh Pina and the Shaarey Zedek, she had actually been the female representative of the Israel pavilion that first year. Her title, Marilyn said, was simply “Jewish.”
But, as you might also recall, the entire confusion over where the first Israel pavilion was located began with an email I had received from Roz Greenfeld, who had written to correct my mistake when I had written in the August 2 issue that the Israel pavilion had been located in the YMHA from the very beginning.
Roz pointed out that, in 1971, the second year of Folklorama, the Israel pavilion was located in “Council House” or, as it was better known, “The Golden Age Club,” on Pritchard and Salter. How did she remember that? Roz was the female representative of the pavilion that year. Her title, as I found out was “Miss Judea,” she said.
So, if the Israel pavilion was located at both the Rosh Pina and Shaarey Zedek in that first year of Folkorama, and in the Golden Age Club that second year, where was it after that?
It was left to Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada archivist Andrew Morrison to come up with the answer to that question. Andrew informed me that the Israel pavilion did indeed move to the YMHA in 1972 and remained there for the next 25 years, until it moved to the Asper Campus in 1997.
There was a further footnote to the story, which is when I decided to try my luck with the Winnipeg Public Library’s online archive one more time. This time, rather than searching for “Folklorama,” I tried searching for old copies of both the Free Press and the Tribune from August 1970. I did manage to get results for the Tribune and when I entered a specific search within the Tribune I found a picture of all the famale representatives of pavilions – in bathing suits.
It turned out – and this was corroborated by both Marilyn Breitman and Roz Greenfeld, the female representatives had to parade in unison – in bathing suits, as part of Folklorama festivities. Each year, as well, a queen of Folklorama was chosen. Neither Marilyn nor Roz was made queen, both of them told me, although Roz was voted “Miss Congeniality.”
In addition to finding out about the early days of the Israel pavilion, I also learned that the Chai dancers were not regular performers at the Israel pavilion in those early years – as they eventually did become. Chai performers would dance only one night in those first years, with other entertainment the other nights.
I did enlist Andrew Morrison’s help once again and did find that Chai performed only one evening during the first few years of Folklorama – from 1970 to 1976. In 1977 Chai began performing every night of Folklorama, but there were other performers on hand as well, including Jerry Maslowsky and Rabbi Yosel Rosenzweig. In 1978 the Chai Folk Ensemble was the featured entertainment every evening; however, a notice that appeared in our paper did say that whistler Harvey Pollock would “be on hand” to entertain – whatever that meant.
While some may wonder of what earth shaking importance all this is, I ask: Isn’t it fun to look back in time – for just a little while, instead of worrying about more immediate problems, such as global warming, inflation, terrorist attacks in Israel, and whether Donald Trump will be president while he’s in jail?
Features
EINSTEIN, RITA AND ME
By DAVID R. TOPPER In the early 1960s, when I was an undergraduate student majoring in Physics at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh – there was only one girl in my advanced physics classes. As I learned later, nothing much had changed since the days of Einstein. When he was studying Physics at the Polytechnic in Zurich, the physics classes were all male – except for Mileva Marić, a Serbian who was the first girl in high school ever to take a physics course in the entire Austro-Hungarian Empire. Because Switzerland was the only place where women were admitted to university classes, she was there with Albert in Zurich.
She was very smart, especially in math, and also proficient at the piano. Born with a dislocated hip, Mileva had a slight limp, and the men in the class ignored her – except for one, Albert. They became a couple and eventually married.
Back to me in my university physics classes – where it seems that little had changed for over sixty years. In my advanced classes there was only one girl. Her name was Rita. She mainly stayed to herself. Majoring in Mathematics, she took all the advanced physics courses available, right through the fourth year. In short, in those predominantly male classes, she was an anomaly – alone and ignored by her classmates.
Except me. No, I didn’t date her, yet I didn’t ignore her. During those undergraduate years, I lived at home and took a bus or a trolley to school five days a week, leaving early in the morning. The university is in downtown Pittsburgh. Walking to the campus, I first went to the Physics Department, using it as my base. From there I went to my other classes during the day. There was a small classroom in the Department that was almost always empty, especially in the morning. It could be used for individual studying or small group discussions and such. In the early morning, I was usually the only one there – except for Rita, who used it for studying, too. She often was there, even before me. Usually the conversation started by me saying something like: “Hi Rita, did you get the last problem in mechanics class homework?” Her response was invariably, “Yes.” We would go over it, with her finding my mistakes. We had an amiable relationship that never went beyond our interactions about physics – right up to the end of our university years. As far as I can remember, I don’t think I knew much about her beyond the classroom.
But one event, which I’ll never forget, stands out. It was during our last year of classes in a course on the theory of relativity. For the textbook the prof used a paperback edition of the original papers on the theory. Early in the course, we went through Einstein’s first paper of 1905 – step by step. On this particular day, the prof came in and said he had a problem with the next step in the paper. As we all sat with our books in front of us, he pointed to a certain equation where we ended in the previous class. In the next sentence, Einstein says that such and such follows. The problem for the prof was that he didn’t know how Einstein got that deduction. I looked at it, and didn’t have a clue either.
Just then, Rita’s hand went up. She said she thinks she knows how Einstein got it. The prof asked her to come up to the blackboard and show him. Rita did, and the prof said that she was right. I’m quite sure that – then and there – Rita got an A in that course, if not an A+.
That gives you some idea about Rita and my relationship with her at the time. Not a very significant part of my 4-year undergraduate years – except for this one event in a physics course.
Why then am I bringing this up now, so many years later? Here’s why.
I graduated with my BS degree in the fall of 1964. I then went to graduate school at Case Institute of Technology in Cleveland, majoring in Physics. (It’s now Case-Western Reserve University.)
When I moved there, I lived in a formerly swanky hotel on the edge of the campus, which was purchased by the university as a residence solely for graduate students. They called it The Graduate House. Eleven floors, the top 8 with suites for students, with one floor solely for female students. It was a radical experiment in co-ed living for the time.
My first day there, after getting my room and putting my things in drawers and so forth, it was late in the afternoon – and I was hungry. I had been told when I registered that the dining hall would open the following morning, but for now there was no food. However, on the third floor there were vending machines with sandwiches and such, so I went to find them.
Going down the elevator, exiting at the third floor, and walking down a hall – suddenly I heard my name called. “David, what are you doing here?” Turning around – there was Rita! It was quite a surprise for both of us. This tells you how minimally we interacted before; not even knowing that we both were going to the same graduate school.
I told her that I was majoring in Physics at Case. She, of course, was majoring in Math. After a chat about all this, I said that I was looking for the sandwich machines. She said that there was a diner nearby, and she was going there for dinner with someone else she had just met so I went, too. Thus, Rita and I reunited in Cleveland, now living in the same building.
In a short while, I made friends with a group of people in the Graduate House with diverse majors. Some were in various sciences, others in humanities. It was a lively group, with animated discussions on a range of academic topics, including politics, especially as the Vietnam War became the center of the news in the USA.
Rita was not a part of that group, but I did often see her. Being the eager student that I was, I was up early, getting to the university to study in the library before classes started. Coming to the dining room for breakfast, not long after it opened, I often saw Rita, too – all alone in a far corner. I took my tray and we had breakfast together. Except for that morning ritual, I seldom had any interactions with her.
Thinking about this now, I find the parallel morning rituals (first in Pittsburgh and then in Cleveland) a fascinating serendipitous episode in my life. The difference was that in Cleveland, we were not taking the same courses so we didn’t have to compare solutions to homework. We did talk about our respective courses, and interestingly a parallel appeared. By around mid-term of that first year in graduate school, we both were less than enthusiastic about what we were learning and, accordingly, were both thinking of not carrying on in our respective subjects.
For me it was Quantum Mechanics and the impossibility for us to know reality in itself. Everything was statistical, uncertain and almost esoteric. I found the uncritical attitude toward this world-view to be almost religious in nature. (I only learned later that Einstein felt the same way!)
For Rita, it was the same, despite the different fields. The math now was far beyond basic geometry, algebra and calculus. Topology, Group Theory, Galois’ Theory, and more – all culminating in Gödel’s Theorem, which asserts that all mathematical knowledge is inherently incomplete. It all was too esoteric for her. She knew that she was not going to get a PhD in mathematics.
We commiserated together, with another parallel in our unusual relationship, but with a difference. I still wanted to get my Master’s Degree and somehow still go on to get a job as a professor – that had been my goal in life ever since my first semester at Duquesne. Rita, however, was thinking of dropping out immediately and leaving university life altogether.
For me, this problem was resolved in my second year of Physics at Case, when I took a course taught by Martin Klein. Although he was a physicist in the Department, for many years he no longer was doing research in it. Instead, he was writing papers on the history of the subject – mainly involving Einstein, Boltzmann, Gibbs, Ehrenfest and others. Today those papers are paragons in the field. It was my extremely good luck that the department permitted him to teach such material for the first time.
I loved the course. I was enthralled by the topics – this was the way I wanted to learn physics, through its history. After getting my Master’s in Physics at the end of that year, I moved across campus to the History of Science Department. In another four years I had a PhD in the subject.
Back to early 1965: I tried to talk Rita out of dropping out, but she was adamant. The kicker was this: she really preferred numbers with $$$$ in front of them. Yes, she wanted to be an accountant. She didn’t want to waste any more time here, when she could be home getting her accounting credentials. As I recall, sometime before the spring of that year she went back to Pittsburgh. I’m sure she had an easy time getting her accounting licence and all that went with it. As she was very smart. My guess is that she was an excellent accountant and was very successful in that career.
I have no way of knowing. We didn’t keep in touch (honestly, I don’t know why not) and I can’t even remember her last name. All that I can recall is what I’ve written here. Nonetheless, I find these two interactions between Rita and me an interesting and pleasing tidbit about life and relationships – so much so that I deem it worthy of repeating here.
David R. Topper writes in Winnipeg, Canada. His work has appeared in Mono, Poetic Sun, Discretionary Love, Poetry Pacific, Academy of the Heart & Mind, Altered Reality Mag. and elsewhere.
His poem Seascape with Gulls: My Father’s Last Painting won first prize in the annual poetry contest of CommuterLit Mag – May 12, 2025.
