CANADA'S WINNIPEG WINNER OF A CITY.

Byline: Beth Gauper Knight-Ridder Tribune News Wire

In Winnipeg, I thought I'd died and gone to ... Europe.

I bought gelati - gelati - in a cafe full of Italians. Ate pierogis next to a table of men arguing in Polish. Was served croissants by a woman who occasionally lapsed into French.

While sightseeing, I came upon a vast stone building covered with statues sitting in a park like an English lord's country manor. On my way to the dim sum houses on the other side of downtown, I passed under a Chinese gate.

This gloriously lumpy melting pot on the flat Canadian prairie is the next best thing to being there. Considering the robustness of the U.S. dollar in Canada and its wimpiness overseas, it may be even better. Throw in the pervasive Manitoba nice - no service with a sneer here - and Winnipeg turns out to be quite a destination.

You'll know it's not the United States at the border, where the speed limit becomes 100 (kilometers), the radio announces it's a sweltering 24 degrees (centigrade) and signs are printed in English and French. Winnipeg has the largest French Canadian community outside Quebec, a fact best appreciated at patisseries that look transported from the back lanes of Paris.

In the summer, Winnipeg makes up for its long, bone-chilling winters by throwing music, theater and cultural festivals. It has wonderful museums, a world-class ballet and shopping that, with every U.S. dollar worth nearly $1.30 Canadian, is delightful.

Despite all this, residents of this fourth-biggest city in Canada have an inferiority complex, flogging themselves for being less cosmopolitan than Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal.

``A lot of Winnipeggers do tend to put down Winnipeg, and I don't know why,'' says Eleanor Mohabir, who came from the Netherlands and is married to a man who emigrated from the Caribbean. ``I love it.''

Mohabir and her husband, Ron, had walked from their home in the lively Osborne Village neighborhood to the Forks, a renovated shopping, museum and entertainment complex at the juncture of the Red and Assiniboine rivers. ``There's so much to do,'' she said. ``How can we fit it all in?''

When I visited, I headed for my favorite neighborhood on Corydon Avenue, known as Little Italy. Earthy aromas of olive oil and garlic floated from a string of outdoor cafes, each jammed with patrons. I had jerk chicken on the rooftop deck of the Sugar Reef, then strolled down the avenue eating pistachio gelati, looking into shop windows and listening to three teen-agers play the bagpipes.

But I got a dose of Winnipeg at its best Sunday morning at The Forks, on the site of the fur-trading settlement, established in 1734, that became the city. The crowded market was a scene from Europe: crates of fruit, oysters on ice, glass cases of freshly baked focaccia and baguettes. People were strolling along the river, along which water buses run every 20 minutes. A theatrical walking tour would leave later; meanwhile, there was the Manitoba Children's Museum to visit and performers to watch at various ``busk stops.''

This trip, the weather was fine, and I simply ate and walked my way through Winnipeg. Next time, I'll have to visit the Winnipeg Art Gallery, the Royal Canadian Mint (which makes the gold-tone dollar coins called ``Loonies'') and the Museum of Man and Nature, now featuring 30 interactive space-travel displays based on ``Star Trek.''

Not that eating is a bad way to spend time in Winnipeg; in fact, I recommend it. With your teeth sinking into a perfect croissant, you can forget for a moment you're still in North America.

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Photo: The old North Gate is the last remnant of Upper Fort Garry in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada's melting pot on the prairie.

Beth Gauper/St. Paul Pioneer Press