Darrell Morrisey and "Les secrets de la bonne cuisine"

Darrell's drawing for this advertisement, for Les secrets de la bonne cuisine,
was published in La Presse on 22 October 1928

Darrell Morrisey's drawing, see top right hand corner

In 1927 Darrell Morrisey produced an advertisement for what became a popular cookbook, Les secrets de la bonne cuisine (1928) compiled and written by Sister Sainte-Marie Edith (1876-1949) whose secular name is Mary Theodora Turner, of la Congrégation de Notre-Dame (CDN) located at 2330 Sherbrooke Ouest, Montreal, QC. Sr. Sainte-Marie was the director of the school for home economics which included cooking classes taught by Sr. Sainte-Marie; the book was also published in English. The book has been reprinted and second hand copies of the original book are available online, it can also be read or downloaded in its entirety on the Internet Archive website. Darrell Morrisey was a member of the Beaver Hall Group of artists; she was born in 1897 and died in 1930.

"Les secrets de la bonne cuisine"

Title page: Les Secrets de la Bonne Cuisine: Contenant La Substance Des Cours
de Cuisine Donnés À l'Ecole Ménagère (Congrégation de Notre-Dame)
de Montréal, Avec Plus de 1500 Recettes, Toutes Mises À l'Épreuve
Dans La Cuisine de l'École.

The secrets of good cooking (English version) by Soeur Sainte-Marie-Édith
(Mary Theodora Turner), Montréal, Canadian Printing and Lithographing
Company, 309 pages, 1928. Archives: Congrégation de Notre-Dame, Montréal.

Is this Sr. Sainte-Marie Edith's birth family?

Just out of interest (and thoroughness) I tried to find Sr. Sainte-Marie Edith birth family in the 1881 Canadian Census using her name, Mary Theodora Turner; there were several entries for "Mary Turner", each was age five years old. The family that seemed the most likely to be Sr. Sainte-Marie Edith's family lived in Addington, Restigouche County, New Brunswick; the family is listed as being Roman Catholic; they were also described as "Francaise" as their nationality but I am not sure if this means French-speaking (Restigouche, New Brunswick, has a large French-speaking population) or that the family was originally, or second generation, from France; the family have Anglophone given names but they could easily be anglicized French name; family members included: David (the father), age 42; Aleva (the mother), age either 26 or 36; William (son), age 10; Edward (son), age 9; Mary (daughter), age 5 and therefore born in 1876 as was Sr. Sainte-Marie; and George (son), age one year. What suggests that this might be Sr. Sainte-Marie's birth family are two things: Mary Turner's second name, "Theodora", is an unusual name, it is unlike more traditional English or French Canadian names for that time; and Mary Turner's mother's name is also not traditional, it is "Aleva", a name that I have not previously encountered. That said, one of my New Brunswick ancestors also has a name that I am not familiar with; John Veraker Morrissy, was born in Miramichi, NB, and became a Member of Parliament in Ottawa, I have never heard of the name "Veraker" other than in reference to him.

The above image is not from the Mother House of the Congregation of Notre Dame but
should give an idea of what the CDN cooking classes, in this instance at the college
Marguerite Bourgeoys, were like.

Sr. Sainte-Marie Edith conducted cooking classes and was director of the school for home economics at the Congregation of Notre Dame. Across the street was the Mother House, also a part of the CDN, where young girls were educated in secretarial science; I am not sure if buildings on both sides of Atwater Avenue were known as the Mother House. This was a prominent post-secondary school in its time; for instance, after attending the High School of Montreal, my mother learned typing, short hand, what we now call “secretarial science”, at the Mother House, it was excellent preparation for employment. Students were both French and English speaking, as were many of the Sisters of the Congregation of Notre Dame. Sr. Sainte-Marie Edith's cookbook appealed to the average homemaker; recipes are prefaced with questions students might have asked about the recipes, as we say today, it was "user friendly". Use of the commercial product, Crisco, is common in the book. Many girls, both English and French speaking, both Roman Catholic and Protestant, were welcomed and attended the courses given by the Sisters of the Congregation of Notre Dame.

It seems to me that Darrell Morrisey found a friendly environment at the Congregation de Notre Dame. Her father, Thomas Louis Morrisey, was born into the Roman Catholic faith but converted to the Church of England when he married, in those days this was advantageous for upward social mobility and professional advancement in business.

Canadian Cottage Garden, early evening

 Photographs taken on 05 September 2025, around 6:30 p.m., as the days are getting shorter.

"Bound for Hell" by Marina Tsvetaeva (1892—1941)

 

Marina Tsvetaïeva en 1925.

Hell, my ardent sisters, be assured,

Is where we’re bound; we’ll drink the pitch of hell—

We, who have sung the praises of the lord

With every fiber in us, every cell.

We, who did not manage to devote

Our nights to spinning, did not bend and sway

Above a cradle—in a flimsy boat,

Wrapped in a mantle, we’re now borne away.

Every morning, every day, we’d rise

And have the finest Chinese silks to wear;

And we’d strike up the songs of paradise

Around the campfire of a robbers’ lair,

We, careless seamstresses (our seams all ran,

Whether we sewed or not)—yet we have been

Such dancers, we have played the pipes of Pan:

The world was ours, each one of us a queen.

First, scarcely draped in tatters, and disheveled,

Then plaited with a starry diadem;

We’ve been in jails, at banquets we have reveled:

But the rewards of heaven, we’re lost to them,

Lost in nights of starlight, in the garden

Where apple trees from paradise are found.

No, be assured, my gentle girls, my ardent

And lovely sisters, hell is where we’re bound.

Fire on Westmore Avenue

05 September 2025

After last night’s rain and heavy winds—broken tree boughs, many branches littering the streets, loss of electricity—after that, a property fire occurred on Westmore Avenue. 

Here is the communique from our Borough mayor regarding the fire:

Update – Fire on Westmore

Our thoughts are with the residents affected by the major fire currently underway on Westmore. Videos and images circulating on social media show just how serious the situation is.

Thankfully, everyone has been safely evacuated and is safe and sound. The Red Cross is on site providing emergency housing and immediate support to those in need.

The borough has set up an emergency response team, in collaboration with OMHM and the NDG Community Council, to support residents in the coming days as they navigate this difficult time.

A heartfelt thank you to the firefighters and all first responders for their courage and swift action.

 

Canadian Cottage Garden on 3 September 2025

Fall is not far away, the days are shorter, the sunshine is not as hot, the nights are cooler, there is the smell of fall in the air, birds are flying south, bears prepare to hibernate, and the garden is closing down. While flowers are dying back we know that they will return in eight months, that’s eight long cold months. Cruel months. Monochromatic months of sense deprivation. No wonder we celebrate summer, tolerate winter, see winter as something to survive and put behind us, and in November we already count the months to spring.

The garden on 3 September 2025

A herb garden, 31 August 2025

Yesterday—it was the last day of August—I visited the city/farm garden behind the Hingston Hall residence at Concordia University (Loyola Campus). I’ve visited this garden for many year; it is thriving and the herb garden is growing better than ever. This was a good summer for gardening!

Elf dock 

Common primrose 

Milkweed 

Worm wood 

Mullein

Bee balm

Horse raddish

White sagebrush 

Chives

Leaving the herb garden 

31 August 2025

"Unending Love" by Rabindranath Tagore

 

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played alongside millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.