A few weeks ago, two foodie guys from
Chicago came into the store asking for restaurant recommendations. Pretty typical day at The Cookbook Store. As the conversation went on, it came up that
they were going to Montreal, one of my favourite food cities and where I went
to undergrad. Of course, I asked them where they were going to eat. They
responded: Schwartz’s and bagels, obviously and necessarily, and dinner
reservations at Joe Beef, Au Pied de Cochon, Liverpool House, and Garde Manger.
Great restaurants, all four, but, I told them, that’s a lot of food and a lot
of the same kind of food. No matter how good it is (and it’s very, very good),
you’re going to want a bit of change. I said, keep two of these restaurants –
they are fun, over the top, a touch trashy, and, most importantly, cooking at a
very high level – and lighten it up a bit the other two nights. The hype that
chefs Morin, Picard, and Hughes get is well warranted. They are among Canada’s
finest. But the New Quebec cooking isn’t just gregarious, plentiful cooking,
it’s more surprising and refined than that, you’ve just got to look a little
beyond the Montreal food hype machine.
For example, the seafood tower at Au Pied
de Cochon is a picture of abundance. Bivalves, crustaceans, and mollusks are so
plentiful, that you’d almost be convinced that they had been grown on the
multi-tiered tower. It’s a lot and it’s delicious. Great, eat it and, the next
night, go fifteen minutes west, to Le Filet where seafood looks a little
different. There Claude Pelletier takes pristine Magdalen Islands seafood in a
more refined direction. Raw fluke with Japanese plum and a touch of fresh
wasabi, oyster with soy and citrus jelly, or arctic char, seared rare, with a
simple nage of spring vegetables. A bit of levity on your plate helps with the
digestion. And yet, this is still decadent, hedonistic Montreal food at Le
Filet. Don’t believe me? A half lobster with hollandaise and urchin would
happily sit on Au Pied de Cochon’s table, as would octopus with a sauce of cherry
tomatoes and bone marrow. The only difference is that the food here actually
fits on the plate.
Similarly, you may want something totally
different after of lobster spaghetti, rabbit porchetta, and a foie gras double
down at Joe Beef (though, first, you will probably want a nap). Somewhere
serving food a bit less rustic, a bit more modern, in a room with tremendous
energy? And you want ingredients that are nearly as good (nearly, because no
one gets ingredients as good as Joe Beef)? An easy answer: Les 400 Coups is the
most exciting restaurant I’ve been to in Montreal since, well, Au Pied de
Cochon first opened. Venison tartar is with anchovy, carrot, and mustard ice
cream has become a signature, but a near perfect white beat soup with oysters,
lemon, fennel, and bottarga steals the show. Venison with tonka bean sauce and
celery root is quite good, but Gaspor farms pork belly and shoulder, cooked
sous vide, stuck together, and then seared crisp is one of the best bites of
the year. And that’s before we get to the scallops or slightly curried sauce
that also share the plate with the pig.
Desserts deserve a paragraph of their own.
Pastry chef Patrice Demers is a major talent cooking pastry at the three
Michelin star level. I kid you not – they’re better than desserts I’ve had at
Jean Georges, EMP, Ko, McCrady’s and WD-50. White chocolate pot de crème with
litchi granitee, grapefruit and campari jelly is startlingly forward and
perfectly balanced. And, if creamy sapote cheese cake with buckwheat is merely
excellent, candy mushroom panna cotta (yes, mushroom) with pear sorbet is,
possibly, the dessert of the year. As much as anyone in the city, Demers
deserves ink.
What else might you do, a little off the
standard itinerary? Skip your second Schwartz’s sandwich and walk over to
Rotisserie Romados for near perfect Portuguese rotisserie chicken. Or grab
lunch at Olive and Gourmando in the Old Port. It’s not just one of the city’s
best bakeries, but the Cuban sandwich is the best sandwich in Montreal not
featuring the words “smoked” and “meat” (unless it’s tomato season, when I
would skip the Cuban and get the one with jamon Serrano, tomatoes, and pesto). Or
grab a cocktail, one of the few good ones in the city, at Dominion Square
Tavern. Or, a big secret, play at being Barney Panofsky and go to L’Express at
around 11am on Saturday. It’s the only time you have the option of both the
breakfast menu (fresh squeezed orange juice and an omelet, medium rare) and the
full menu (for the half-century old dish of bone marrow, parsley, and sel gris
and best steak tartar I’ve ever had).
The point of this is not to dissuade you
from gluttony. Let’s be frank: Montreal is better at gluttony than almost any
other city in the world. My plea is for a little more exploration. Let me
illustrate with an analogy for those of you that have made it this far. When I
was in undergraduate, we used to pity American college students, up for spring
break who never learned there was a Montreal beyond the bars on St. Catherine’s
and Crescent. And, I think, the real Montrealers used to pity us poor students,
spending our Friday, Saturday (and all too often Wednesday and Thursday) nights
on St. Laurent. I’m sure they would have told me, by all means, go out on St.
Laurent, it’s as fun a street as Montreal has to offer, but please, come see
what St. Denis and Mount Royale are all about, they’re different and no less
great. So I tell those two well researched gentlemen from Chicago, by all
means, eat your foie gras poutine and lobster spaghetti, but please give
venison tartar and bone marrow octopus a chance!
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