soupnancy

Montréal Highlights Festival

For the last two weeks of February, Montreal lights up with culinary activity with an array of events, visiting chefs and etc. The themes this year are: visiting country Switzerland; city Washington DC, Que region -Lanaudiere, hurrah..  

A few dates featuring Les Jardins Sauvages

February 21, 22 :  A taste and meet with the producers of our region at Jean Talon Market on the second floor as of 9 :30am

February 22,  2pm : A workshop/recipe with chef Nancy Hinton at Jean Talon Market, 2^nd floor

February 24 : Special event dinner at Restaurant Le 400 coups where Nancy&François will be collaborating with Chef Guillaume Cantin’s team for a 4 course wild menu featuring our products http://www.les400coups.ca/a

Festival Programming http://www.montrealenlumiere.com/gastronomy/activities-series.aspx?categorie=marche_jt

A restaurant review of Les Jardins Sauvages in the Gazette fine dining section, by Lesley Chesterman. www.montrealgazette.com/life/Enchanting+haute+cuisine/8792914/story.html?

I have to say I am pleased. Thanks Lesley! Very encouraging..

After so many years of operating off the radar, I had almost forgotten about restaurant critics. Sure, we've had a good amount of media attention over the years, but the last actual 'critique' must have been in the Voir several years back. I wasn't complaining.

Since teaming up with Francois at Les Jardins Sauvages, I couldn't help but be wary of critics, like I found myself kind of shy with fancy pants world travelers because I feared our rustic décor, our plates and stemware might be an issue.. Then how about the spiders, mosquitoes, crappy sound system and leaky terasse roof.. But whatever, money doesn't grow from trees and we always believed in putting it all on the plate, food quality more than chichi details, in being ourselves hence a lack of pretense absolutely.  We do our best, hoping that the food, authenticity and ambiance will carry the day no matter.  Looks like it did here, and I am grateful for it, especially knowing she wasn’t there on the best of nights. 

When I found out at the end of the night, I was taken aback, slightly devastated, worried. It was dead, bad weather so no magical outdoor terrasse or dynamic atmosphere, no François telling stories (he took the night off after a big week of foraging/ weekend at the market), not to mention a new menu with final touches yet to be ironed out, no dishwasher, and me with a bad back. But it’s the kind of night that happens and any typical customer could experience it like she did, so I understand that a review is best anonymous and should be representative of what any diner could fall on.  For the record, I often stress out like this about `regular customers` too.. Anyway, I was relieved that it turned out fine.

A review is just a review, and you are only as good as your last meal, every day a new challenge in this crazy business.. but every pat on the back does help. It was particularly heartening after a slow summer.. I also appreciated her shout out to what's going on in the countryside and in our own backyard - it's so easy to be forgotten about outside of Montreal and off the beaten track.

Now I just have to find staff, and a bilingual waitress at that -pas évident out here!

Chop chop

Some of the things I learnt this June

Besides my stint at the University of Guelph earlier this month which was major brain-food, a lot of my June brainwaves came down to waking up to the mundane - those day to day revelatory details, occasionally mesmerizing when you’re dealing in nature and the restaurant business.

Mother Nature, she's just crazy

Living in the country for years now working with wild edibles, I am necessarily in touch with the weather and Mother Nature’s cycles and moods, but I am just starting to truly understand what a real adventure this is, and how much we are at her mercy.  Be it global climate change, or that these phenomena now meet business in my world, the singularity of each season and plant is striking.  Things don’t happen the same way anymore; the order is skewed, the plants are different depending on the weather and the ‘je ne sais quoi’, and you can’t help but feel like you’re stupid/learning all the time.  François who is so intuitive, closely in tune with his vegetation and the moons, is burdened by memory/history - so off kilter in his own way; I on the other hand, am always trying to understand SOMETHING/ANYTHING concrete.  Forget about it. You can’t plan for it. 

So this year, spring came late and summer came early.  For some spring greens, this was good; they were plush and allowed a slightly longer life before the foliage came in fully.  There was excessive water for others, and practically speaking, the swollen river cut us off from habitual harvest zones.  Then when summer hit, everything sprouted so fast, leaving us a small window for things like day lily sprouts or milkweed sprouts.  A few morels..  It looks like it’s already time for elderflower and cattails!  Why can’t they wait?  I have 100lb of daisy buds to pickle.  The day lily buds are peaking, meaning more bud pickling to follow.  François picked his first local cepe yesterday, the chanterelles are buttons.  In other parts of Quebec, many summer Oysters are ready, the wine caps (like Portobellos) are in full swing liking this cold spell.  And then there are the marine greens coming in, which I am forever ecstatic about..  I cannot not be psyched about summer abundance, but wow all the waiting, then all at once, so much to process..

As mother nature keeps me on my toes, I remain thankful for the recurring rhymes and rhythms that comfort and exhilarate - starting with the fiddleheads and the ramps, and on to the day lily, elderflower, berries, sea spinach coming into season one after the other or any which way.  Just reliving each arrival, weeks late or early, so familiar yet new, is something else.  I know that every year when I am reacquainted with a certain wild plant in season, and I cook it up in a myriad of ways, I get to know it better and I get better at what I do.  There are unexpected lightbulb moments, the kind that only come with time.  Time observing, time tasting, time dancing. 

Spring beauty really does taste like corn sprouts, I paired it with lobster and crinkleroot, and for the first time, served it alone with a little cold pressed canola.  And there is no way to put it up; like most of the spring greens, it is a pretty sprout you enjoy for a week or two a year and that’s it, period.  It didn’t take me long to love crinkleroot, but to figure out how to use both the root and the leaf to their max, how to put them up best took a few seasons.  I’ve got it down; crinkleroot really sings with tomatoes and with potatoes.  Sea spinach was an instant coup de Coeur (still my favourite), but sea parsley was just ok to me, not exciting until a couple of years ago; now I put it in everything.  To finish a soup or salsa, it is a major component of my versatile ‘chimichurri’ and gremolata. It took me years to really appreciate Elderflower, Labrador tea or salsify sprouts, even certain mushrooms; I had to spend some time with them, one week a year wasn’t enough.  Milkweed flower was a revelation last year in granites, syrups, etc; this year, something else will get my heart, new tricks added to my bag.

I have to say the most memorable thing about June (no matter who you talk to in the country) was the voracity of the mosquitos.  It is a BAD year - very, very difficult for François, our pickers, anyone gardening, even our screened in customers.. 

Which brings me to another thing I learnt, a good reminder in life in general..  Never get too high on your horse about anything.  Me, so eco-friendly and all about essential oils, I’ve reverted to Deet on bad days, sorry.

Fun and games at the University of Guelph…

Breaking out of one's bubble and hanging out with food scientists certainly fills the mind.  So many questions answered, so many possibilities that opened up (even if most of them cost too much on a practical level for us).  Basically, I got to pick some brains to help me be a better chef. Lucky me. Thanks to Foodday!

-I was reassured about my calculations regarding coumarin concentrations in sweetgrass and sweet clover (I am WELL under the worrying ppms, more relevant to the food additive/perfume industry who deal in straight chemicals, not plants).

-My hunch that the fiddlehead hoax is not about a toxin, but more likely a microbial issue was confirmed - so if well washed and cooked (from a non-contaminated source), no problem.  Apparently, a soak in a 5% brine before hand (osmotic shock) would allow me to stick with a shortened cooking time, maximizing colour and texture (omitting salting the cooking water).  Fiddleheads need salt anyway for taste.

-Although I’m well informed and have never had any problems, I got to the bottom of the nitty gritty when it comes to potential dangers with all of the types of products we make, ensuring me that I was adequately processing things (sometimes excessively actually), all to equip me against the MAPAQ who explain nothing.  I’m talking high acid (pickles and vinaigrettes) or high sugar (jams and syrups) here, nothing our grandmothers didn’t make without a worry in the world.  These tips will help me in determining which products to keep as we diminish the unmanageable number going.  If I were to upscale certain products, I might modify procedures, choose new jars etc. 

-Same with oils and drying, which I wanted to know more about in depth, given that the MAPAQ is wanting to crack down, but above all, I need to figure out if we can make it more efficient so that these could one day be profitable.  Was there a way we could improve yield with better extraction, all while following safety guidelines.. How many jars would I have to make??  How do I break that heat and acid stable emulsion boletes like to make?  Ok, this was not solved, but at least I know it’s more likely a lipid the cause and not a protein.

-They got me very curious about freeze-drying (we dry so many mushrooms and herbs and flowers), and I might get to try it out, but I doubt we can make this feasible since we don’t deal in quantities that justify such $$ technological intervention.  Not to mention that nature inconveniently gives us unpredictable amounts impossible to schedule, usually small amounts here and there.

-I was introduced to alternate extraction methods (when it comes to mushrooms or herbs), again not necessarily accessible.  But there were contacts offered, suggestions for teaming up with universities and flavour companies, avenues to explore.  Even keeping with traditional methods, I found out how to improve my process with respect to pressure cooking and tools for efficiency (reasonably priced lab tools like a centrifuge or separatory funnel that would be useful to me).

It was overall extremely stimulating to sit down with scientists.  They have so much insight and knowledge parallel to our world, simply inspiring.  Hilarious too.  Sometimes, I found myself explaining something so basic to a cook, but so foreign to a scientist not connected to his food or taste buds.  One suggestion when talking about food safety that killed me:  Add 25% alcohol to extract toxins and kill bacteria – hello, taste??  Denaturing said luxury food??  Good thing everything else he had to say reinforced the fact that he was very smart.  He obviously operates in a different universe.  He looks at plants in a way I don’t. 

At GFTC, I met with another gang much more used to dealing with food and food professionals who aren’t so professional; they were so generous and cool.  But wow is bacteria omnipresent in their minds; irradiation is normal procedure in their circles.  I guess that is the most important aspect of their job, as scientists counselling the food industry.  There is no doubt that someone needs to be guiding and regulating any Joe-Schmoe putting food on the market.  But I also realized that no matter how edifying this experience was, how much I know about food processing, the bottom line is that all I want to do is cook fresh food to be eaten immediately!  What the hell was I doing there?  I could be bringing a product to market, all subsidized.  No, I went to ask general questions.  I looked like an idiot artist - I am obviously not a hardcore business person.  I just want to be better at what I do all the time, whatever it is.  All knowledge helps, right.

Doesn't anyone want to work in the country?

Back to the restaurant business, my never-ending search for good staff taught me a few new lessons.  For one.. Waiters - can’t live with them; can’t live without them.

Good staff is scarce, especially in the country.  I better treat the ones I have extra special, and hope for the best when it comes to the rest.  Be it on the floor or in the kitchen, at the market or in the woods.  Not many people are willing to work hard and take pride in the little things anymore.

Waiter wise, I’ve given up on the normal demands for a restaurant like ours: someone with restaurant experience in the gastronomy realm, bilingual, flexible, with a love of nature and wild edibles.  Now, I’m looking for someone who is reasonably presentable and good with the public, into what we’re doing and willing to learn the rest.  What kills me is that candidates with no experience, pertinent knowledge or obvious talent expect a starting salary superior to mine.  I have no choice but to take what I can get here, accept that reality and make the most of it.  

I keep telling myself this is one of those things I chose to accept with this country gig.  You can’t have it all.  Take the good with the bad.  I would not be happier with a big, talented brigade in a big, high stress operation making more to spend more with less quality of life.  To be able to beat to my own drum and do the food I want at Les Jardins Sauvages, I sometimes have to cover for waiters, serve, peel potatoes and do my own dishes.  Answer the phone, clean, weed, fix things and be everywhere when I just want to be in the kitchen.  I do like weeding more than waitressing though.  I find it hard to have my head in the dining room and in the kitchen at the same time..

Such is life in St-Roch de l’Achigan.  An abundance of wild edibles and good produce, a paradise for a cook, a challenge for a business.  Always so much to learn, so many possibilities.  One day, I might actually get around to the high tech improvements now on my radar or the solar cooker on my ‘to do list’, maybe even achieve my dream of being able to hole up in my kitchen.. If ever I nail enough solid employees.

I’m not holding my breath.  But going into July, I feel wiser and ready to face the circus.  With everything blooming and sprouting, I can only jump in and go with the flow. 

For the record, I do still think I have the best job in the world.

Coups de Coeur this summer so far..

Some expressions are just better in French. How do you translate ‘coups de coeur’?

Highlights-Favourites-Flings of the moment-Things I have a soft spot for right now?

That’s one upside to living in Quebec; we get to dip into the other language for effect, and everyone understands. So anyway, these are some of the things that tickled my fancy and got me excited this summer - the stand-outs. Some are new, some revisited, and not only in the ‘wild and edible’ realm.

Summer is a time of many loves, and my infatuations evolve much more rapidly than the seasons (see previous post:  http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/blog-journalessays/2008/2/6/falling-in-and-out-of-love.html), I could never name them all. Of course, there are annual repeats and constants; I fall in love with sea parsley, cattail and elderberry every year at the same time, and I never stop loving sea spinach, sweetgrass and olive oil year round. In season, Quebec strawberries and Nordic shrimp are givens, as are chanterelles and black trumpets, and just about every other mushroom when their time comes. In parallel to the wild stuff being foraged at the season’s peak, there is the market’s bounty - the fresh radishes, peas and fava, all the baby vegetables, followed by the first ground cherries and ears of corn, the tomatoes and squash - all guaranteed highs.   

 Amidst the regular flurry of beautiful summer ingredients, there are still always surprises - some item that got overlooked last time around or something arrestingly new.. Thanks to the wealth of Quebec’s artisans and the dynamic food world around us today, new products and sources of inspiration are endlessly sprouting up too.

My new and improved nose has only been a help, I have to say; with every bite or sniff, there seems to be an exclamation mark more than last year. When it comes to the wild greens being so marvellous, maybe that’s the rain and not my senses. In any case, here is my list..

On the wild front:

•  Milkweed, the broccoli and the flower: I never paid this wild edible much attention, never got excited about it; now smitten, I wonder why. I’m learning that with the wild stuff, like with getting to know any foreign ingredient, sometimes it’s a matter of time. It so happens that the first milkweed shoots are inarguably tasty and very much like asparagus. I always liked the broccoli for flavour, but found them mushy after the necessary cooking - until this year when I uncovered the way they were meant to be served, in tempura (once blanched). The next stage in the plant’s life is even more enticing, the flowers -so aromatic, intensely floral but with green notes, versatile in either savoury or sweet. I made a kick-ass syrup, a granite, and a vinegar. The delicate buds don’t last long, so we had to act fast; but for a time, they also made a spectacular garnish.

• Day lily buds fresh as opposed to pickled. This year I didn’t pickle any in the caper like fashion (although that’s good too), preferring to serve them in salads and as a vegetable, just blanched and dressed, allowing the crunch and subtle floral/ vegetal/truffle flavour to shine through, along with the fresh petals and oniony dried pistils of course..

• Wild celery: the stalk makes a sipping straw that imparts a potent celery taste, and the dried flowers once pulverized make a natural celery salt (with no added salt) – both perfect for bloody caesers. Add a dash of crinkleroot paste, and you have one wildly delicious, sexy version of the classic cocktail!

• Mugwort, my ‘pizza plant’. I coined the phrase when I first met this plant years ago, because at its best, it smells like pizza, or actually more like fougasse (a mix of olive oil, herbes de provence). I was very curious initially about using it as an herb, but then lost interest because every time I tasted it afterward, it was either bitter or bland. This is the first year that it is as truly flavourful and interesting as that taste memory. The funny thing is that it tastes different in each spot it grows on our property, highlighting how important the ‘where, when and how’ of how a plant is harvested affects its properties (the amount of sunlight and water, the soil, the weather ; François says even the time of day picked). Sabline is another example, in that it is actually edible this year – so gorged with water, the clean cucumber taste is there, without excessive astringency. Yes, I was happy to rediscover the humble mugwort, but this is not an important green in our arsenal; in fact it is considered more of a medicinal plant, and being a cousin of absinthe, it’s probably best kept that way.

• Juniper! Although I have always had a ready stash of the berries(frozen), that are so much better than the bought dried variety, I still manage to forget about them all the time. But, these days, I’m having a hard time making a sauce or marinade without them. Especially alongside the wild berries coming in now, with wine or game meats in a sauce, juniper really blends in well, lending a definite ‘je ne sais quoi’. An experienced palate might detect it, but most people just say ‘yum’, even if they don’t like gin. In a gelée with blackberry atop a mousse de foies de volaille and foie gras, customers accused me of injecting drugs in the recipe, they couldn’t get enough.  

• Sarsaparilla.. I always loved root beer, and I once loved Porto (now too sweet for me), and this native berry tastes like a fruity combination of the two; when used in a sauce or coulis, or as a flavouring, it adds those delectable notes and depth. I bet that would be good with foie too.

• Wine caps (Strophaire à anneaux rugeux) - A noble mushroom variety new on the menu. Introduced to us by fellow mushroom fanatics, I was intrigued, and found them to be so dainty, nutty and delicate. Apparently they grows in wood chips, madly springing up the year after the ice storm, and are cultivated too - no worries, not dangerous. I have to find out more, and am not sure whether we could have enough to put on our mushroom menu anyway, but I’m pretty stoked about this newbie.

• I met the Canada lily for the first time (François says it’s rare in these parts) – what a remarkably beautiful flower – not edible though!

Some Quebec cheeses worth getting excited about..

• Tomme d’Elles de Charlevoix, Maurice Dufour
• le 1608, the now so popular Charlevoix washed rind cheese made from the heritage Canadienne breed of cow http://www.fromagescharlevoix.com/fromages/1608.htm
• l’Etoile Bleu de St-Rémi, my new favourite blue cheese, sheep’s milk
• Terre Promise, which I’ve talked about before, but it’s only gotten better (from the makers of Victor & Berthold, La Racam, Le Fétard) http://www.lanaudiere-guidetouristique.com/La-plaine-agricole/Fromagerie-Du-Champ-a-la-meule/
• Tomme de Grosse Ile  http://www.fromagesdici.com/www/tomme_grosse.asp

Other ingredients:

• Highwood Crossing Canola oil : I fell in love with this oil at l’Eau à la Bouche years ago, but was reminded of it recently thanks to a newspaper article in the Globe.. Referred to as Canada’s EVO because it is cold-pressed, fresh and incredibly flavourful, this is a distant relative to the bland, processed canola oil that is so common. A finishing oil, to be used like the best extra-virgin olive oils, it has a fresh, buttery, nutty flavour, with sunflower seed and subtle sesame notes. I just ordered a 20L tub in the mail. Even with shipping charges, this is a good deal for the quality. http://www.highwoodcrossing.com/index.html

• Pettinicchi olive oils and vinegars: I have long been a fan of these products too, and it is forever exciting when our order arrives for the year, albeit with an ouch (but it’s worth it).. His chilli oil adorns just about every dish I make at home, and is one major reason I could never go completely local. http://www.pettinicchi.com

• Terre Sativa herb salt, and I’m only thinking about because I’m running out.. I don’t use this at the restaurant where I have every fresh herb on hand, but at home, it’s a staple. http://cld.portneuf.com/upload/cld.portneuf/editor/asset/Terra%20Sativa%20fiche%2006.pdf

My ‘coup de coeur’ starter dish of the summer uses all three of the above.. This is a salad that I ate every night at home this summer – little cucumbers and radish slices with Terre Sativa herb salt, black pepper, and chilli oil. Some times I added fresh cheese, or chopped egg or olives, and now I’m slowly moving tomatoes and corn into the mix, while the radishes fade out. Sometimes I change up the oil and vinegar (I have too many favourite oils and vinegars..). You have to love summer for how simple good food can be.

• La Ferme Quebec-Oies: Specialized in everything goose: foie gras, confits, terrines and etc.. I tasted their galantine d’oie (at the Marché du Vieux in Quebec City) and was won over. Clean goose flavour, sooo delicious! (lafermequebec-oies°videotron.ca, 418-826-0942) 

 In the kitchen

• I found a renewed interest and respect for agar.. (I love that it’s Ok to drop the second ‘agar’ now) Years ago, when agar was so very cool, mostly because it was a novel, vegetable source of gelatine that could withstand some heat, I went crazy with it. Only to ditch it eventually, concluding that it was a sub-par gelatine for my uses, and always grainy. It took a couple of years and a class in NYC to find new uses and rekindle some respect. I’ll always be more traditional and tend towards sheet gelatine or eggs for my preparations or any mousse, but I’m a little less biased today. Agar can make a nice liquid gel when you want a scoopable/shapeable sauce, or a vinaigrette with texture. And to set a braised mixture or terrine that you want to serve warm, it is pretty nifty.

• Bamboo steamer. This is a tool I don't call on much, but it came to the rescue when my homemade ravioli were bursting in a boiling water bath and I was in the juice. Sometimes, when you want intense but gentle heat, steaming is the way to go.

• My new favourite tool –a mini slotted spoon. Not holy like a Mac knife or microplane, but still, very useful in the kitchen, especially for plating. I also have a wide, flat topped spoon that is great too for controlled, neat portioning and saucing. Knives are mentioned all the time; the most neglected of important tools in the professional kitchen are spoons (for tasting and serving, slotted or wood, of all shapes, big and small)!

 Dishes, some hits:

Customer favourites

• Cream of Lettuce soup with cucumber, fava bean and bee balm salsa – who would have thought? Usually any soup with mushrooms or wild greens, potato and bacon is a hit.. But with no meat and based on lettuce?? Quelle surprise.
• Scallops. Every scallop dish, whether seared, in ceviche or sashim, it appears you can't go wrong. Paired with wild ginger and sea greens, they especially make for swooning. . No wonder every other restaurant is serving them too, and fish mongers can’t keep up. Bad sign.
• A lobster bisque (Thai style) with sea spinach and cattail (I don’t think it was the wild things here that were winner, more like that heady mix of lime, coriander and coconut milk, and good bisque base of course).
• Strawberry and sweet-grass! Although sweetgrass is like vanilla or almond, good in just about every dessert, this particular pairing soars. I made a shortcake, a pavlova, sorbet and granite, used the mix in coulis, compote and jelly – all lip-smacks and smiles.
• Venison, braised or roasted: I take venison for granted because we have the farm on the property, and so I cook it all the time.. While I don’t want to put it in the starring role every week because I need to change things up, I see that people love it. I think the uninitiated expect venison to be gamey, and so are charmed by the subtle, savoury, better-than-beef quality of the meat. It doesn’t matter if I serve it with a crinkleroot mustard sauce, a wild grape balsamic, a wild mushroom sauce, it’s always a hit. And no matter how creative I like to get, I know I could make a fancy Shepard’s pie every week and customers would be happy. If said rustic dish wasn’t getting as tired as crème brulée in the food world, I might make it more.

 My favourites

• Consommé, wild ginger or mushroom. I realize this is more of a winter dish and maybe I’m ‘in’ because I hadn’t made it in months. But it always excites me more than the customers anyway, who seem just as happy with a typical soupnancy purée type soup, which is so much less work. Why do I bother? Because I like a good broth. Because consommé is cheffy (something you don’t do at home). Because it’s pretty. What I especially like about consommé is the layers of flavour - the idea of boosting my duck broth with extra umph through what I put into the clarification raft like mushrooms or ginger, flavours that you can’t see, but come through strong and clean and clear, pure elegance.
• Crinkleroot French toast (this was a true personal fave); I used it to sop up escabeche but I see it with fresh tomatoes or tomato confit; now, I’m just waiting for the tomatoes…
• Ham and cornbread salad. I love ham and put a lot of love into making it. Customers appreciate it in any given dish, but rarely understand how much work is involved, what special ham it is. Like with the cornbread salad, which is something I have been making since I was a catering young one, I could be using couscous and few would notice. People say yum, but I know the cornbread was for me, more than for them. I tell myself it probably would be less 'yum' if the ham and couscous were store bought.

  Eating oysters throughout summer.

I think this is the first summer that I eat oysters on a regular basis, no matter how oyster-loving we are. Like for most people our age, oysters have traditionally been a fall and winter thing. Even though there has been a good supply for years now in the R-less monthes, and it is better than ever now with the rise in popularity of oyster bars and such. I’m thrilled because they go awfully well with hot weather and sparkling wine, especially our east coast Virginicas. Regardless of how often I try the ‘others’ like the Pacifics or various exotic varieties, I can’t get into that flabby taste; I need the salt, and cold water tang of Malpeques like Coleville Bay, Raspberry Point, Glacier Bay and co..

BTW, An informative and entertaining book on oysters for amateurs and fans, or anyone curious about oysters: Geography of Oysters by Rowan Jacobsen. www.rowanjacobsen.com

Restaurants

• I hardly dined out much this summer, but there was Bistro-Bar Chez Roger, one of François’ favourite spots (by the same chef team as Kitchen Galerie) that I recently got to know: Solid haute bistro market-fare (oysters, terrines, tartares, short-ribs, fish and chips and much more) with good wines, and a great vibe. http://www.barroger.com/

• Tartare table-side! Like in the good old days. And this one was GREAT! At L’Auberge Le Baluchon in St-Paulin, LaMauricie: where the true country setting is beautiful, spa and such comforts included, and there is a refreshing social conscience attached (as far as promoting local producers and Quebec in general, recycling, respecting nature, fair-trade - even healthy and allergenic diets are considered here, poor cooks). The service is earnest and abundant (more than fine tuned); there is a lot to like about this place. Although the food was mostly mediocre for the price, I had that super (REALLY!), nostalgic tartare at night, and in the morning, the best ham sandwich I’ve had in ages at their Eco-café on Berbere bread. Even with just a few things right, because they were SO RIGHT, this Quebec tourist attraction left me with a major sweet spot.

A piece of writing that I thought was fabulous, The Case for Working With Your Hands, by Matthew B. Crawford, A New York Times Article.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/magazine/24labor-t.html

Books:

• Apples to Oysters, A Food Lover’s Tour of Canadian Farms, by Margaret Webb There isn’t much true Canadian food writing out there, outside the cookbook, travel and special interest genre.. Here is a uniquely personal account of a cross-country eating tour that celebrates the best of Canada with a focus on a few great artisans more Canadians should know about, who are producing real, good food. http://www.margaretwebb.com/

• Eating at Church, A book of Recipes from Aylmer & Eardley United – Ok, this is hardly a coffee table cookbook and probably of interest to few in the new jet-set world of foodies. But I liked this modest little book mainly for the historical/sociological aspect, because it is typical of thousands across the country in decades past, when the church was so all important in most Canadian lives. I include it here mainly as a reminder of another kind of cookbook, one that isn’t big and glossy or promoting a chef, restaurant or new diet.. For me, it also offered up a slice of nostalgia because I feel like I gobbled up my fair share of this food as a child, not only at buffets in the church hall, but at my parents’ friends homes – hot cross buns, deviled eggs and bean casseroles, recipes that use soup mix and cream cheese, ham spread and jello, cranberry punch and trifle of all kinds - all infused with loads of personality and a sense of community.

• François Chartier’s Papilles et Molecules  I find this stuff fascinating, even if I don’t think it’s so important. Breaking down the flavours in food and wine to chemical components and matching them doesn’t seem to turn up so much more than what we already know from experience or instinct. Granted, there are a few surprises that surface from the mix. In any case, it is gleefully refreshing, even comforting to have science confirm things you already know. And it is inspiring to be led down a different path, say when it comes to rosemary and Alsatian wines.. New ideas open up, only because of his different approach. This is hardly a complete work, but it is ambitious all the same; he has surely done a lot to kick off a whole other branch of wine and food pairing… Even if I know this is not a book I will pick up again and again, I value it now for the novelty, for the odd brainwave it inspired, for all his research. www.francoischartier.com

No - No Julie and Julia!  Haven't seen it yet. 

Cuisine Canada has a new blog, http://cuisinecanada.wordpress.com/, and I will be contributing as a voice from Quebec on an occasional basis. I believe strongly in their mission to promote our rich and diverse Canadian cuisine(s), to create an exchange between food professionals across our vast country, thereby strengthening our Canadian culinary identity. Here is my first post: http://cuisinecanada.wordpress.com/2009/02/24/how-to-beat-the-winter-blues-in-quebec-with-food-of-course/

I hardly want to added to the recession talk but ignoring it would leave me with a big, fat elephant in the room. Despite a sluggish winter in the restaurant business, I opt to remain hopeful in reflex to the annoying, aggressive media doom and gloom, but mainly because looking around, I can’t help but notice that food obsessed Quebeckers are surviving remarkably well. So there.

The thing is, food is an upper, an elixir, the perfect weapon or escape for troubled times. When it comes to food, you have to be pretty hard up or down right pessimistic to not find some kind of silver lining, something fun or creative to do, cook and eat, some way to beat the winter blues, especially here in Quebec. We have a joie de vivre clientele that doesn’t really want to let up. We have so much good food. Even the tomatoes don’t taste so bad in winter anymore thanks to competitive greenhouse operations. I must say I might be having a more difficult winter without my put up tomato sauce and all my preserves, but still. There is always the wonderful world of Quebec cheese, and what could be better on a cold winter night than a cheese fondue? Maybe a cassoulet or a venison roast with wild grape must and juniper, a wild mushroom and barley soup, cold oysters with chilli and lemon, or hot steaming mussels with crinkleroot mustard cream, pain de ménage toasted on the wood stove and a salad with Mirabel lettuce and Pierre André Daigneault’s special greenhouse greens.. I’m still not finished with the fall squash, root vegetables and potatoes, and there are still terrific Quebec apples available..

In winter, I don’t think we should beat ourselves up too much about a few imports anyway, for the right products that is (no snow peas from China). We have to have some fun and a touch of the exotic can go a long way in lifting the morale. It is in the off season that I tend to explore the odd exotic ingredients (jicama, tonka bean..), and I will use olives, citrus, truffle and such more than usual, because it’s the only time I feel I can; in summer I have more local abundance than I know what to do with, so it wouldn’t make sense.. I look forward to the winter for that, as well as for any moments to get caught up on inventory, back-logged projects and experimentation.

You see, WITH FOOD to face the winter blues, we have a fighting chance, nothing is ever as bad as it appears, and everyone has a trick or two up their sleeve. And fingers crossed. One foot in front of the other, one dish a time, and next thing you know it’s maple season and spring, a new bounty of ingredients, a fresh source of cheer as colours and crunch flood readily back onto our menus.. By then, hopefully, the looming monster of economic hell will be less frightful, even a thing of the past. If we can survive the winter, ‘he’ doesn’t stand a chance against us and summer food, the farmer’s markets, the ‘terrasses’, the jazz festival.. So there! Hang on, and Bon Appétit!

It isn’t over yet!!

Montreal en Lumière (The Highlights festival):

• The guests: http://www.montrealhighlights.com/volets/table/invites_en.aspx
• The events: http://www.montrealhighlights.com/volets/liste_eve_en.aspx?volet=table
• Cheap treats: http://www.montrealgazette.com/life/prices+amid+High+Lights/1274492/story.html

Our duck festival – two weekends left!

www.jardinssauvages.com

A breath of fresh air, a bright future, a diamond in the rough

I’m happy to report that there is hope yet – on the work front and in the youth of today (la relève). Just when I’d almost given up on finding good help, a young kid blew in to knock my socks off.

What a breath of fresh air. Throughout my weekend of juice in the kitchen, I remained in a relatively upbeat mood and finished elated, thanks to things going off without a hitch despite being short-staffed, but mainly from having my faith restored even for a night. The source of my elation – a teenager who came in to do the dishes. I’ll call him my diamond in the rough.

I saw from his first night how hard working, positive and curious he was. The next night I had him helping in the kitchen, doing odd jobs like peeling cattails and potatoes, decorating plates. He worked diligently, never asking for anything, was poking his nose into my pots, keenly observing and tasting; I could not believe how ‘allumé’ this kid was. And he hails from a backwoods small town, knows nothing about food or cooking or gastronomy or wild plants. I gave him his first taste of Reggiano, alongside a number of artisanal Quebec cheeses, he also tasted duck, scallops, veal cheek, not to mention a multitude of wild greens and roots for the first time. He was thrilled with each bite. He had no idea what a scallop was but asked if he could taste it raw! I'm used to having to cajole or threaten students into tasting anything remotely exotic, let alone raw.. In service, he danced the kitchen dance with ease, never getting in the way, aware, following cues and jumping in, executing any task I’d given him exactly. It was so impressive for a kid who had never been in a professional kitchen or taken a class. I could not have asked for more even from a ‘trained’ cook out of school. It was obvious this kid ‘had it’. This never happens, I’m never impressed, this kid was something else. I began coddling him like crazy - I’ve never been so nice to any newbie. In the early phase, I’m usually annoyed most of the time and more concerned with discipline, starting off on the right foot, laying down the law, seeing if they’re cut out for it before investing too much.

What had me so rapt, what was I so worked up about, why was I being so nice all of a sudden? It was his keen eye, ear and nose, the ability to think on his feet, to catch on quick. An unbridled curiosity, a hungry nature, an open mind, and smart questions (not useless ones, so commonly asked without thinking first - that just break my concentration and sap my energy..) His politeness, hard work and stamina, with no special needs on the side. He was eager to try anything and everything. The pressure didn't seem to bother him, he was sharp and optimistic the whole way through, he naturally knew when to buckle down, when to talk, when not to talk. He evidently had a tough composition, but a sweet disposition. Here was a (smart) kid who was simply happy to be working and learning. Come to think of it, this package shouldn’t be such a rare thing, but trust me, it is, especially so young.

diamonds

Most restaurants I know are looking for cooks, farmers are equally short of labourers, businesses across the board are in relentless search of enthusiastic, reliable workers at every level. Although there is technically a shortage of skilled workers, among the candidates available, it’s not necessarily that talent is lacking, the problem is more to do with attitude, work ethic, passion, dedication.. We’ve all gotten used to expecting less, having to retrain and retrain, accepting that one out of every ten employees will amount to anything, in this industry in particular. They all want big pay and glory off the get go, too many days off, with no concept of paying their dues.. It’s a common dialogue among chefs, restaurateurs and business owners in general. The times, they are a changing and fast, albeit for the good in many aspects, but we can’t up-end our whole operating order overnight, at least not until people are willing to pay way more for their food. So it’s all about doing your best with what you’ve got, damage control, avoiding the bad apples, making the most of the good eggs. Thankfully, a good egg makes up for a few bad apples.

Back to this good egg, my diamond in the rough. I showed him how to hold a knife for the first time; he was so determined to be able to cut like Jonathan (my beloved apprentice and pseudo kid, now a seasoned cook) - he was intently studying his every move and then going at it with such determination. After we’d cleaned up, he also helped with the dishes, never looking at his watch, never asking for a break.. While his peers are out being delinquents, uninterested in working for minimum wage, he’s happily busting his ass.

He was so proud at the end of the night when we gave him 2 oz of wine to cheers with us (he’s underage after all) and all the staff was complimenting him. He told me how fun he found the kitchen, doing so many different kinds of cool things, being a part of a team, seeing happy customers.. I understand how it would beat cutting grass or strictly doing dishes, but he seemed genuinely pleased, even bitten. And I’m quite sure he didn’t understand how brilliantly he had done. I was beaming for his mother.

I know better than to get my hopes up so quick, but what the hell, a girl needs to find her diamonds wherever she can, and regardless of what happens next, this one made a difference in realigning my disillusioned outlook with respect to kids today.. And I was reminded once again that I really can/still/do love teaching..

P.S. After I wrote this, I couldn’t help but think of Jonathan in his early days as my apprentice at l’Eau.. I wrote about him too a while back (you’ll see some common threads I’m sure). http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/more-food-writing/my-mentor-and-my-apprentice.html

Critics and The Star System

The Challenge of Quantifying Quality

by Nancy Hinton, April 16, 2007

When scoring wines, rating restaurants, or even ranking lovers, the question is whether a standard barometer for sensory pleasure makes sense, and if so, how do we fairly accomplish this? With a number, a letter, or words, and according to what rules? How effective is this anyway? And do we need it?

I got thinking about all this for a number of converging reasons, from the whole Jeffrey Chodorow affair last month (when a restaurateur with a zero star review took out a rebuttal ad in the NY Times) to the Parker effect in the wine world around me, as well as the ongoing arguments among friends over newspaper restaurant ratings.

Words or numbers?

Thanks to Wine Spectator and the Parker Phenomenon, number scores for wine are now common. This is a very American construct by the way, in opposition to the entrenched European style long on romanticism and short on numbers.

In Montreal, we see this difference in approach in our city’s restaurant reviews, with La Presse, which uses a descriptive, critical blurb and no grade, whereas in the Gazette, like in New York Times, we see a bold star rating followed by a supporting critique; the emphasis on measuring performance just above delivering qualitative information.

The New York Times restaurant review, the mother of all ratings of this kind in NA in terms of clout, is considered by many as the ultimate reference in NYC and regularly causes much uproar. The French have the Michelin guide, which is a historic three star system, but a different creature altogether, only judging the cream of the crop. A mere star is an honour, with 70 or so two-stars and only twenty six three-star restaurants.. On this side of the Atlantic , one star would be a lacklustre grade. Here, we’re more generous with our stars, but then take them away to determine the score. The guides with authority in Quebec besides local newspapers, are the CAA, the Voir, the Guide Debeur, all with slightly different criteria and scales of their own. The Zagat consumer based guide, hasn’t made significant inroads here, mostly because it’s in English only.

No matter the format of the rating system, in our evaluation of the arts, selecting a number or a making a global statement is an especially difficult, controversial process. Think about it, even words don’t mean the same thing to everyone. Unlike in math or a bicycle race, there aren’t many absolutes in the subjective world of taste and a good time out.

Grey matter

Being a diplomatic, ‘nothing is black and white’ kind of girl, absolute scores like restaurant stars have always made me uneasy. Nevertheless, I do secretly kind of like them. I consume year-end reviews and top-ten lists with glee, I eagerly flip to the dining review in the Saturday paper, all the while feeling a little trashy deep down.

Why do I like the stars, even though I don’t really believe in them? I am drawn to stars and ratings probably because like most of my generation, I grew up on them. Mine was an era of percentage scores, contests with definite winners and losers, and gold stars that I sought to get stamped on my work. I am indeed competitive by nature. But more importantly, I believe in honest opinions, I honour truth and value quality. I accept that some are better than others at a given task, and I like to see those that manage to rise above mediocrity get pats on the pack. I think laziness and poor work should be nailed as such. There is also that natural inclination of mine towards order and classification that surely has roots in my scientific background. Although life has taught me otherwise, the desire to quantify reality is deeply ingrained in me. And like most people, although I know I should hold back from being judgemental, I can’t help it.

Apples and oranges

The thing is, as Nathalie Maclean states in ‘White, red, and read all over’ (a great breezy wine book), “An emotional response can’t be quantified mathematically”. She includes an amusing Adam Gopnik quote in the New Yorker about a man and his harem that makes the point..

‘A man who makes love to fifty some women and then publishes a list in which each one gets a numerical grade, would not be called a lady’s man; he would be called a cad..’

Scaling restaurants is problematic because like women, wines and restaurants are unique; there are personality quirks, and a non-tangible, fleeting, and sometimes magical element to the relationship or experience. Just like you can’t compare apples and oranges, you can’t accurately compare a no-fuss bistro serving tried and true classics with a formal, innovative place; they’re just different.. How do you compare a new Asian restaurant that has beautiful food with chintzy décor and a poor wine list with an ‘haut de gamme’ French restaurant with history, ultra professional service, Riedel glasses and acceptable, by the book food? How do you justly gage a tapas joint or a wine bar against a BYOB? You can compare them on price point or on service, on décor or on authenticity, but overall, it is impossible to do so without nuance; the stars cannot stand alone. Even a few qualifying paragraphs hardly suffice. Restaurant critics try to deal with this dilemma by judging a restaurant according to its raison d’être, what it is trying to be. Talk about obscure guidelines, regardless of how noble the idea is. Add to that the fact the restaurant product, and to a lesser extent any wine, is in flux, constantly evolving, any one experience a singular, unique snapshot in a reel of thousands.

So given all this, how much value should these ratings be given, and who do you trust? The democratization of criticism and art today means that anyone can put out a music video (or a blog); everyone’s opinion matters, anyone can claim to be an expert.. Overall, I think this is a good thing. Dialogue and multiple views offer perspective. But like with the internet, it also means wading through a bunch of crap on a daily basis on any given subject to uncover any truth.

Short cuts

The major problem is we don’t have time for it. (For that reason, I’m sure most haven’t made it this far down my post..) Our attention spans are shorter; we’re in a rush, we’re multi-taskers and skim readers. We want the reader’s digest version of everything; there is no time for details and real complexity. Hence, we rely on such tools as top-ten lists, stars and ‘so and so’’s pick’s to tell us what to consume. We need oversimplification in our fast paced lives.

It allows us to have the overwhelming excess of information around us to be boxed and filed away for easy retrieval. We also like to feel like we know more about all the things of which we know very little, so that we can feel like we’re really living, or at least have some interesting dinner conversation. Mainly, we appreciate convenient short cuts to the good stuff because they save us time. Shouldn’t we be able to trust the experts anyway? Whoever they are..

Five stars says who?

I enjoy having access to lists, ratings and expert opinions, being keenly aware of their limitations. I know who I like and who I don’t (I still read them). But that’s the key, context. Who. We should know that a review is just one person’s opinion, one slice of a story. We should pick our guides and pay attention to who wrote an article or who backed a certain study or produced a show, etc., so we know how to take it. Like when doing research, you try to consult many sources, and check credentials, before accepting anything as currency. Wikipedia offers a quick fix, a few hints, not a basis for a thesis. Most critics, like artisans, have their personal agendas and prejudices.

More than ever, in this age of sound-bites, people make unchecked statements all the time, and it seems acceptable. I get so annoyed with quotes that such and such a place is a 5 star hotel or restaurant, for example. Five stars says who? What are their criteria, what does it mean? If there is no source, it means nothing to me. I also cringe at newspaper headlines making a big claim, citing one vague ‘scientific’ study or some anecdotal evidence, knowing that many readers will take it as law without finishing the article, and decide that butter is bad or that MSG is a plague.

My conclusion is that amidst this sea of opinions, we need the critics with credentials more than ever. I like to read, and so personally prefer an article with substance full of grey, over a black and white star rating. But the star ratings can be fun, like icing on a cake. We must all just take it for what it is…not the holy grail, but some info, a possible lead, or merely some entertainment..

When it comes to entertainment, Beware

Before getting so caught up in criticism as sport though, we mustn’t forget about the real effects it has in real people’s lives. A restaurant is someone’s business, their livelihood, years of blood, sweat and tears, and home to a family of employees and regular customers… A wine is the same thing, usually decades of hard work, investment, patience and love, with troops of earnest faces behind. A bad review necessarily hurts all of these people.

On the flip side, any artist, producer or chef has to answer for what he/she puts out there. They must be thick-skinned, able to take some criticism, and accept that ‘you can’t please everyone’. To survive, they must stay focused on their art, their product, their customers, and not what too many outsiders think. Criticism is a part of doing business and making art.

Too much influence, the uniformity of taste

Besides some potentially hard feelings, the danger of any critic or guide gaining too much influence is that it can start to alter the art, the kind of wine being made or the food being cooked. A trend towards uniformity in taste is never a good thing because not only does it mean a loss of diversity on the landscape of taste, it often results in a ‘dumbing down’ to the lowest common denominator and a lower quality product overall. Big business lobbies and marketing strategies are surely guiltier of this, but a variety of independent critics can balance this effect, in a sense protecting us, all the while challenging the purveyors of our pleasure to perform their best.

The critic, our friend

Critics often claim that they are working for the average diner or customer, that they are a defender of the public, guiding the innocent to sure hits, and away from bad meals and rip-offs. But, really, the only establishments I don’t mind seeing criticized are the frauds, those out to make a dime by fooling people, those who deal in poor quality and charge far too much. I’m all for the outing of a hoax, but cheer far louder at the celebration of an underdog. And in fact, nothing does either like a no star or a full star rating. As long as there is something to back it up, a real person you can know and trust.

Sometimes though, we must agree to disagree, and take it all with a grain of salt.

Toque on top

February 28th, 2007 

Toque remains on top in my books, no contest, when it comes to fine dining. I like simple food a lot of the time.. cheese and charcuterie, a no fuss bistro, a simple salad, a vegetable stir-fry, steak tartare. A good sandwich is probably my favourite meal. But with chef friends in from out of town for a couple of days of power eating and the Montreal Highlights festival in full swing, it was time for some fancypants food. Despite the many events going on simultaneously last Wednesday, we chose a non-event, and booked Toqué, which turned out to be quite the event.

We opted for the surprise tasting menu, which showcases their best in a series of small plates with wine pairing. A few bonus courses were graciously thrown in taking us into the 10+ range. Only at Toque do I not get bored or saturated with this length or complexity of a meal these days. It’s because Normand and his team master the tasting menu, with small but adequate portions, enough flavour and innovation to excite while keeping it subtle and easy on the palate. The service was also perfect in the same kind of way, delivering inspired wine pairing, everything we needed and enough information to satisfy and stimulate, yet tasteful and restrained, just the right amount of distraction.

The feast started with a Raspberry Point oyster on the half-shell with a citrusy fruit salsa, and fragrant olive oil. Next up was the most delicate little potato chip sandwich stuffed with gravelax, crème fraiche, caviar and a chive. Crisp and greaseless, with a silken, creamy, salty center, it was down right delicious. A tataki of big-eye tuna with a vinegary yellow beet brunoise, sesame (I think), and red beet paint followed, delightfully fresh and bright. I loved a miniscule calamari salad with sprouts, tiny enoki mushrooms, lime and almonds that was rich in textures, but again refreshing and delicate in taste. Spanish Mackerel with a vegetable glaze, a paper thin wafer of herbed toast and red pepper was another composition of textures and tastes, with a perfect cuisson and a savory, vaguely smoky taste. At this point, while others at the table had seared foie-gras, I had a scallop - brandade dish. This plate was intriguing with a lot going on for a Toqué plate, but all the tastes played off one another beautifully; the scallop was crusty and salty-sweet, the chunky brandade was perfect as an accompaniment (alone, I would like it zingier); there was a super smooth puree of cauliflower, a strand of braised lettuce that tasted like basmati rice and some teeny, toothsome mushrooms in a jus. We moved into meat with the next course, an upside down, open-face Cavaletti (fresh pasta) over succulent braised beef cheek in a rich pan sauce and subtle spicing reminiscent of anise or Chinese 5 spice. The ‘main’ consisted of a few slices of canneton (female duck) supreme, tender and pink in a sweet jus with raisins, hazelnuts, pearl onion and baby veg. The cheese course was divine, with a slice of melted Le Grand Manitou from L’Assomption atop a mini potato-onion layer cake. The pre-dessert was tart and refreshingly cool, featuring a mysterious yellow berry from the Townships (arbousière) as a sorbet showered with petals sweet and sour wafer made from the same fruit, all thankfully mellowed by an accompanying yogurt-white chocolate mousse. The final dessert course was a chocolate crème brulée with airelles and orange zest, decadent in taste, and comfortingly soft and creamy beneath the crust; however, it was too rich for any of us to finish. Thank God the mignardises were thumbnail size bursts of flavour, nothing more. Voilà. Extravagant, eh?

Can you believe I ate all that? Without anything to say, but wow. Without feeling like I was going to explode. It was all so elegant, a study in balance. Chapeau. The meal was so intricate and the conversation so engaging, that unfortunately, some of the details got lost along the way. And I barely remember any of the wines, except for a Catalan red that I really enjoyed. Oh well, there is only so much even a foodie like me can take in. Especially when everything is so tasty and flawless, the unfolding of the evening so smooth, you kind of get lulled into a dream like state, won over, putty in their hands, no longer able to think. Kind of like Elaine when she was having too much sex, happily numb and dumb from sensual excess.

In any case, I am sure I could not have eaten any better at any of the special staged events around town. You don’t need the Highlights Festival for culinary fireworks when you have Toqué any day. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing quite like it in Montreal . When you are in that kind of mood.

La Route des Epices chez Anise avec François Chartier

February 27, 2007

The Montreal Highlights festival delivered many treats too to be sure, with an overwhelming number of themed dinners and visiting chefs. One such event that I was lucky enough to attend was The Spice Trail with François Chartier at Anise. This meal was full of exotic surprises and creative spot-on wine pairings. Racha Bassoul’s mastery of spices and playful spirit meeting M. Chartier’s wine expertise and outside the box thinking.

This event was a real trip if you were paying attention to all the details. The menu was a booklet (designed by Epynord..) that also explained the thought process behind the pairing, providing much to chew on mentally for the curious like me. It was a good thing, because M. Chartier himself was not there, and I think it might have been a bit much for the servers talking about the Romans, and molecules in wine.. But all those interesting tidbits and background offered another level of titillation, elevating the experience above the ordinary.

A sparking cider with elderberry syrup (made by me) started off the evening with some addictive cumin spiced popcorn and nuts. The first course was constructed around ‘sotolon’, the chemical component responsible for the characteristic flavour of the Jura Vin Jaune, which is also present in fenugreek, and to a lesser degree in maple syrup and molluscks. So they infused a Juraçon with fenugreek and served it alongside 3 Princess Scallops with different froths, one sake, one fenugreek and one maple. You could not help but get the point and identify that sotolon taste, which was neat.

The next course was killer, so good.. A piece of monkfish with cardamom, coffee and boletus risotto with a New Zealand Pinot Noir (Carrick 2003). The inspiration here was the Bedouin cardamom coffee ritual, of which we were given a whiff before digging in. Coffee goes with oak aged wines and cardamom is part of the molecular aromatic profile of cold climate New Zealand wines. The complementary flavours were layered, with milder King oyster and chicory, as well as a stuffed olive bread that looked like a wedge of Morbier, and the risotto rounded it all out. Very complex, very satisfying.

The foie gras course was another big hit at our table. First we were served a black tea fragrant with curry leaves, anise and Sichuan peppercorn. While we sipped that, our foie gras steamed in a mini tea pot above a clove scented broth, which became pudding like and was then to be eaten on a mini loaf of tea bread. I don’t think I’ve ever had foie gras steamed before, and I couldn’t help but think of all that was lost through the mesh, but there was no denying that it was delicious. The intoxicating aromas of the broth was what got me though, I can still taste it, wow. The wine was a Spanish Bierzo, a rare cousin of Cabernet Franc that has hints of smoke like in the tea, and also contains eugenol, the active ingredient in cloves.

The main course was Boileau venison rack with chocolate and licorice, to go with a Domaine de la Grange des Pères 2003 (Vin de pays de L’Hérault). The idea here is that liquorice softens the Syrah’s tannin, while the pyrazines in chocolate match the Cabernet component of the wine, and some Pimenton was added to the mix for the Mourvedre. On the side was a sun-choke puree ever so subtlety tasting of liquorice, and a basil garnish (anise again). The sun-choke was great, and the meat was tender and flavourful; the sauce was frightfully intense on its own, but with the wine, it all came together.

An Alsace Pinot Gris (Clos Windsbuhl 2004) eased us into the wind down of the meal, the transition from savoury to sweet. Back to white, a soft rind ripened Fougerus cheese was served stuffed with spiced honey and nuts. The finale brought the only South African wine of the night, the famous Vin de Constance 2000 (Klein Constantia Estate) and a beautiful composition of sweets using the aromas evoked by the wine. There was a miniature gingerbread house, homemade vanilla cotton candy and three candied apple cylinders, one wrapped in rose water gelée, another with curry and the last with pineapple caramel. Stunning, and intricate, it was impossible not to be charmed by these precious little morsels, finishing the night on a definite high note.

All in all, I have to say that the meal was amazing. Because of the inventive menu, the sensory tricks, the lingering spell of Racha’s spices. And because François Chartier is intensely meticulous and knows his stuff. But the main thing is they built the menu around the wines, as opposed to the other way around, resulting in a sum that was greater than its parts. From my own experience doing wine-pairing tasting menus too, I have found that you always get a more perfect match by starting with the wine. It’s easier to fiddle with the food than change the wine. And as a chef, you end up doing things you wouldn’t normally think to do with a particular foodstuff, the wine becomes part of the recipe, like a sauce or condiment, its fun.

Despite the fact that this was indeed a convoluted menu, it turned out to be a good example of innovation and gimmicks done right, not overdone. And after all, it was a special occasion; most people were there expecting some tricks. But not everyone cares to probe so far into the alchemy of taste, many just want to taste good food and be treated nice. There was enough of both for everybody. I had my booklet to explore so I was able to indulge my foodie side and learn something without my dining companions getting too bored. And although there were constant intrusions and instructions, typical of this kind of menu, what stood out was the pure pleasure on the palate, and the artful plates. There might have been acrobatics behind the scenes, but you didn’t have to know anything about spices or the research behind the matches to know that it was simply delicious. Which is what counts the most in the end.

Their little dance was a success with Racha’s generous touch softening M. Chartier’s cerebral edge.. Tango or Waltz, a bit of Jazz, whatever it was, it was seductive, a bit of magic on a cold winter night.

No Shows

Feb. 25, 2007 

We had another week-end with plenty of no-shows, ouch.  I can't help but join the debate.

How to deal with cancellations has always been a sore spot for restaurants, and now it’s a hot topic all over. From the recent controversy on E-gullet surrounding a last minute cancellation at Joe Beef that elicited a rude response from one of the owners, to the ongoing discussion among NYC restaurateurs on Frank Bruni’s blog, it is apparent the issue of ‘no shows’ is a continual source of tension between restaurants and customers.   http://tinyurl.com/2j45vb

In New York , it is common enough to be asked for a credit card number when reserving, especially for a party of six or more; but it was when Daniel Boulud’s receptionist demanded a signed credit card receipt to be faxed in that a certain customer become irate, and the discussion was brought to the table again.

The exchange on E-gullet Montreal concerning the episode at Joe Beef was mixed, some finding no excuse for the reprimand, sticking by the ‘the customer is always right’ rule, while others sympathized and tried to explain the restaurant’s hostility. Most agree that management at Joe Beef could definitely have been more polite over the phone, but I’m sure many were silently gleeful at the thought of someone voicing this common frustration. Anyone in the business can relate, knowing that that call was probably the ‘last straw’ in a string of previous hits.

The fact is that 10-20% of reservations regularly fail to show up, and restaurants, especially destination restaurants, pay the price on a regular basis. Some already charge enough to make up for this, but most don’t. It has become a part of doing business, but really it shouldn’t be, with the profit margin in fine-dining already as low as it is. In the rest of life, there is generally a penalty if you don’t take a commitment seriously. To reserve seats for a show, you have to buy tickets. At a spa, or even at the dentist, if you aren’t nailed with a surcharge, you will risk being dumped. And so, people treat these reservations more responsibly, but when it comes to restaurants, it’s no big deal.

Of course, in life especially nowadays, things come up, and often there is a good reason to cancel; but if you think there is a good chance you might not be able to honour your reservation, then you shouldn’t be making it, unless you’re willing to pay to secure it just in case. You can’t reserve several sought after tables around town so that you can decide at the last minute where you feel like going, without paying for that privilege.

Although restaurateurs here are too afraid to be too demanding, those that do ask for a down-payment only take a nominal fee, 25$ a head or 15-25% of a flat rate. It seems fair enough to me, especially given that you will have a reasonable delay to cancel if need be. And as Batali points out, the threat of a charge generally makes the person treat the reservation responsibly, so the exchange is most often avoided altogether.

I cook in a place that works on reservation only, and for large groups we require a deposit. However, like most Quebeckers, we are soft on the concept, and often ride on good faith if it’s someone we somewhat know, and we never ask it for 2’s or 4’s, even 6’s. Week after week, those 2’s and 4’s and 6’s add up, and we regularly absorb the loss. Food is prepped and staff is on hand based on the expected number of clients, and then some, to cover any surprises. So what do we do? Maybe we should overbook, as hotspots on St-Laurent do (and I find highly annoying), more insulting than being asked for a CC number. Or maybe we should just charge more to make up for the extra food and labour costs implied, or be overly strict with the cash down like Daniel, hoping that it will largely eliminate the problem. The thing is, any of these solutions costs the customer more, when there could be no cost if people just took more responsibility for their reservations. Restaurateurs don’t want to be tough; we wish we could forget about the business side of our vocation and just create. We’re generally out to please and would be understanding in the case of an occasional cancellation, but it’s more than that. We also have to save our hide, and frankly, it is insulting to be disrespected by an unpredictable number of costly no shows day after day.

This guy who bailed on Joe Beef wrote about it innocently on E-gullet, so obviously, he didn’t think he was being a bad guy. That goes to show that there is misunderstanding and miscommunication between the parties, and so it’s good that the dialogue is going, and ways of dealing being sorted out.

Ultimately, it is up to the restaurant operator to find the right solution for his/her particular business, and enforce it. Some restaurants in town get walk-ins, so they might want to take the risk, others will just work it into their price. It’s not up to the customer to know what the restaurant business entails, to worry about the finances. It is up to us to set our proper guidelines. When everything is clear, we can all be nice about it. And get back to the food.

Too little too late, a fine meal at Anise

February 15, 2007

The commercial non-sense of Valentine’s Day aside, I’ll take any excuse to go out for a nice dinner, even if we all know it is probably the worst day of the year to sample a new restaurant. But in my case, the clock was ticking, because my restaurant of choice was Anise, Racha Bassoul’s renowned restaurant on Laurier.

Yes, I am one of those horrible people who let Anise down. Even if I am a foodie and lover of restaurants, who was highly interested in Anise, having only heard good things for years, I never actually made it there. I almost missed the boat. Despite the highest acclaim, a classy, innovative chef, and a central location, the doors are soon closing after a mere five years. Some Montreal foodies are scratching their heads, especially on the heel of another top Montreal restaurant (Les Chevres) shutting down last month. Much has been said in the media since on the state of the Montreal restaurant scene, with the blame slammed on everyone from the out of touch restaurateurs to the harsh economy, to the fickle or ignorant clients.

Most people in the industry only find it very disheartening. Others have been unabashedly critical, claiming that it’s high time chefs wake up to the fact that restaurants are businesses.  It's a bit of all these things for sure.  Of course, a restaurant concept has to have a market and be informed by it in order to survive. We all know success in the restaurant business requires more than raw talent, and that dining is about much more than just food.  Nonetheless, I still think that Montreal, widely considered to be a food-centric city, should be able to support a wide variety of restaurants, and at least a handful of these high end ones. Maybe there are too many restaurants in Montreal for the size of the clientele, but it maddens me to see so many lack-lustre restaurants survive while the cream of the crop are struggling. There are obviously not enough foodies in Montreal who put their money where their mouth is, for whatever reason.

Some of us just don’t have the money to spend on fine dining too often. Others just don’t value this kind of experience enough to pay the price even if they can afford to. Haut de gamme restaurants like this suffer from a stigma that they are stiff and expensive, sometimes deservedly so; in any case, people either save them for special occasions or shun them altogether, choosing a restaurant that offers a livelier ambiance, less stuffy food and service, more bang for the buck.

That brings up another issue, the perception of value. Most Quebeckers don’t get it. Canadians in general typically spend less on food than in other developed countries. Having being brought up on industrial food, we have a skewed notion of what real food costs, thinking that organic and artisanal products are expensive and elitist, that the less we spend on food, the more sensible we are. We generally prefer to spend a larger percentage of our income on Ipods, satellite dishes, nice homes and cars, fashionable clothes or spa treatments. We choose fast food over a fine meal more often. And when we go out to dinner, we go to bistros or steakhouses, some good, some not so good, we aren’t all that selective.

The truth is that a restaurant like les Chevres or Anise cooks with quality ingredients from small local producers, they cook à la minute and artfully, in a way that requires a number of talented, qualified cooks whom they also need to pay a fair wage. They use modern design, fine linens and table ware; they have wine cellars and sommeliers, they serve amuse bouches and mignardises, and hand out keep-sake menus for you to take home, all extras, details to enhance your dining experience. All this costs money, so evidently this type of operation has higher costs, and a lower profit margin than your average restaurant. The prices are high, but relatively speaking, they aren’t.

No matter, unless you see and value that difference, you will only find it expensive. If you know the difference between mass produced New Zealand lamb and Quebec lamb from a small producer, and you can tell a local heirloom tomato grown organically with creativity and care, from a plastic-looking one shipped from miles away, you will find value there. North American tastes are evolving, and Quebeckers have always led the way, priding themselves in their appreciative, discerning palates, yet it doesn’t seem that all that many of us are tasting the difference, or caring about it enough to select it. Some people clearly care more about other things like quantity or show, pretty waitresses, or loud music.

Certainly, the trend is away from formal fine dining, favouring more casual places that still put out good food. Most of us are eating out more often, but choosing to go around the corner to a neighbourhood restaurant for a steak-frites or big salad and a glass of wine a few times a month, rather than out for a tasting menu once a month. I’m one of them. But I also know that I rarely get to taste the best in a bistro. They might be able to pass on some savings by not having crisp linens and Riedels, by serving simpler food with less staff and serving more booze, but it’s not always something you see on the plate.   

Although the quality of bistro fare has been steadily rising, still few match the level of cooking of the two restaurants mentioned above, in terms of finesse, integrity and talent. Despite all the talk of terroir, even fewer are actually supporting small, local artisanal producers across the board. Chefs can't charge enough to serve the quality or pay their employees what they would like to. The ones that do well necessarily have tight management, but also have some way of subsidizing the high costs, either with a sister business, or by doing high volume (which makes quality difficult), or skimping on quality, or they cheat in some way. The fact is that without a bit of luck and boundless strength, it is increasingly difficult for high end restaurants who do things right to survive, no matter how hard they work day in day out. And for that reason, I can’t help but get a little mad when I hear people loosely criticize one of these restaurateurs, or judge them when the going gets tough.

Back to my meal at Anise.. I still feel guilty for not having been sooner because if food fanatics like me aren’t going, then I can’t help but wonder what chance fine dining in Montreal has. I certainly value the kind of food Rasha Bassoul is putting out. The thing is, like most people, I am not rich, although I do spend a disproportionate amount of my income on food and wine. And like most Quebeckers, on my nights off, I generally crave casual comfort, no fuss.  When I did feel like dressing up, I couldn’t find someone to go with.. This was a ‘couples’ place, too formal, too expensive, too fancy or too subdued for most of my friends.. More accessible places won out, and the years went by, other new and exciting restaurants opened, I got distracted.

When the dinner finally happened, it was fabulous. Not mind blowing, but solid, and even after one visit, I can assure you that Anise is deserving of all the accolades. She definitely has a unique, refined style. The food is elegant, flavour forward, with all the musts of an haute cuisine carte (foie gras, oysters, lobster, lamb..) all done in an original way with Middle Eastern accents and an exotic touch, rich with fragrant spices and floral aromas. I found some bites surprising; it was refreshing to taste something new.  For example, I was thrown off by the absence of sauces, I'm a sauce girl you see, but this is not a criticism, because nothing was lacking, it was just different.  The seasoning was always there, and nothing was dry due to juice enhancing techniques like crepinette or moist accompaniements like purées.  The setting is serene and luxurious, but in an understated, feminine way. Her good taste is obvious in the décor, the custom designed plates, the beautiful bathroom, the menu, the many details. I hardly want to judge the service or anything too severely on Valentine’s Day when everyone is in the juice, but I will say that it was professional and pleasant, if a tad on the stiff side (as in European), and the wine pairing was excellent.

All in all, our dinner at Anise was a treat, not to mention a big chunk of my weekly salary, but without hesitation, worth it, and I recommend it highly. If only more Montrealers could share another taste of Racha Bassoul and the exquisite, unique contribution she has made to our culinary landscape. It is not good for anyone that this gem of a restaurant is closing.

Restaurant Anise, 104 Laurier O., Montreal  514-276-6999

Post Mushroom Week of Treats

2006-11-20

Now that I’ve come down from my mushroom high, and I am catching my breath, happily, I am finding a bit of time to indulge myself. Albeit without much of a break, I still managed to make this a week of treats, knowing that I have to nab the moments before the rush of Christmas parties begins.

Starting with Sunday, to celebrate our success, as well as our first day off in a month, François des bois and I decided to take ourselves out for dinner. We were exhausted, but wanted to eat well and to be served, but without too much fanfare. François had a big slab of meat in mind, and I was in the mood for fish; we both agreed that a nice bottle of wine was in order. We wanted no foie gras or sweetbreads, definately no tasting menu. So off we went on our quest for our reward. However, without driving into Montreal, the pickings are slim as far as good restaurants go, especially on a Sunday. We settled on Derrière les Fagots in Ste-Rose (Laval). It was in this parking lot that we shared our first kiss 3 (or maybe 4?) years ago. Aw shucks.

So, we’re feeling warm and fuzzy as we walk into the nicely lit, peaceful dining room, where the tables are large, linened and generously spaced apart, the chairs are comfortable, the servers warm yet professional. He orders a bloody caesar, and I a glass of champagne. So far so perfect. Until we pick up the menus and realize that it will be difficult to eat simply here. This is a fancypants place, and they know us. And so our battle with the chef begins. Of course, he won out (chefs usually do) and a 7 + course tasting menu with wine pairing ensued, foie gras, sweetbreads and all. At least, François got his beef, and I my fish, but we had to wade our way through umpteen precious little conconctions beforehand. Don’t get me wrong, the food was lovely. We enjoyed the veal cheek amuse and the tuna in a glass with daikon, oyster mushroom, and a yogurt sesame foam; I especially enjoyed the mackerel with coco bean purée, chorizo, raisins and almond. The sweetbreads were very “cochon” with butternut squash, bacon, arugula, Comté and truffle, but delicious. The first dessert, a coconut thingee with pineapple and passionfruit (again in a glass) was refreshingly sublime; the next dessert a valid effort in making quince and walnuts exciting, and the coffee was great. In the end, we left very happy. I guess what we needed most was to have someone else take charge, and to be spoiled. It was decadent and restorative. Sampling a talented chef’s artistry is always stimulating, even if you have to be forced into it. Gilles Herzog is very good.

For the rest of the week, needless to say, I satisfied my cravings for the simplest of food…. Cheese, eggs, oysters, home-made broth, plain white rice and lots of greens; I cannot get enough greens.

Another treat was Thursday night off and a comforting dinner at my home away from home, the Tavern, with my good friend, Barb. I ordered two salads. The kitchen must have thought I was crazy, but that’s what I wanted. A Caesar salad, followed by a grilled calamari, lentil and arugula salad. I know it disappoints chefs when another chef doesn’t order right, and isn’t interested in trying their most elaborate dish that they are most proud of. I remember getting frustrated with other chefs myself, trying to coax Anne into having the latest discovery or Dave McMillan into having something other than roast chicken, not getting it. It took a few years, but now, I realize that that is just the way it goes; the more you work with complicated food, the less you want to see of it on your time off. Or since you’ve tried it all, the more particular you become about what you like and want; you don’t need to impress or be impressed. In any case, I wasn’t going to be bossed into another meal I didn’t order this week. And it was great.

A third treat for me this week was not about eating, but about cooking, in the kitchen of my dreams. I catered a dinner in a private home, and that is where I met this most fabulous kitchen. My favourite feature besides the full set of All Clads, was the GIANT island with pull out refrigerator drawers for your MEP. If you don’t count the wine cellar... Cooking in someone else’s kitchen is often a headache, but this was a breeze, I actually had time to twiddle my thumbs. When asked to add an improvised cheese course, I scrambled to find some garnish, but no problem - the woman of the household had an assortment of aged balsamic and fresh fruit....not to mention all the plateware and utensils you can imagine, a noiseless dishwasher....wow. I’ve been around nice condiments and appliances before, but altogether, this was the best designed home kitchen I have encountered. It is mine now, in my dreams anyway.

A couple more days of work, but with small groups of clients, turned out to be a treat too, because then I get to do stuff I wouldn’t attempt on a big night. I made veal cheeks, sushi (which I had forgotten about because I made too much in the early 90’s) with salmon, wild ginger and sea asparagus, I made fresh pasta with crinkleroot, I fiddled around with dessert, patting a fragile butter crust into molds with an apple, wild cranberry filling and a clover-frangipane topping, adding many more components and steps then I normally would. Usually, I stick to “cook’s desserts”, you know....crème brulée, mousses, simple cakes and ice creams, wafer cookies and every combination of these. I save the sabayon, floating islands and finnicky stuff for small nights. So these small nights are a treat for me, I’m not the one counting the cash.

My week winded up with the treat of treats, dinner with the girls. The occasion was bittersweet since my good friend Ange is moving away, but we had a fabulous time at La Montée de Lait, a little gem of a restaurant on the Plateau, or is it Mile End (on Villeneuve near St-Denis). The room is very stark design-wise, the tables are cramped, but the food is inventive and enticing if you’re in the mood for a few frills without breaking the bank (4 courses for 40$). It is casual but with a “everything 3 ways” kind of menu. The wine list is very winner, as in researched and diverse in the good value category, with a few big bottles for the big spenders.

We sampled most of the short menu and everything pleased. There was a scallop appetizer done “à la carbonara” with bacon, egg yolk froth and parsley purée, a shrimp dish three ways that consisted of a bisque and skewer, another shrimp with leek compote and a fried shrimp with roast garlic and Ossau Iraty, very tasty. The Mac’n cheese was a ravioli stuffed with Mimolette cream, served with tomato confit and onion rings – amazing! The root vegetable medley, although listed very plainly, turned out to be four root vegetables all cooked differently: a sunchoke soup, a raw rabiole salad, a turnip gratin and a parnip dip with parsnip chips, all very successful. I like it when not everything is spelled out on the menu, and the plate surprizes. As a main or fourth, the other girls had pork belly with molasses glaze and brussel sprouts, very good, and I had a venison tartare, which was served in a glass (this time, I don’t agree) with a corn foam and potato chips. After I removed all the chips and started digging in, I found it perfectly seasoned, like a light version of traditional tartare, with the necessary spice, yet made delicate with a light hand and the corn.... I would have preferred it earlier in the meal, but whatever, it was delicious. Everything was. My girlfriends had dessert and equally enjoyed the (again glassed) chocolate-sponge toffee concoction. The fancy water was good too, although the appeal in perusing a water menu (and spending 9$ on a bottle) eludes me. Maybe it gives those in AA, or pregnant or straight, something exciting to do and think about beverage-wise, which is fine I suppose.

I was most glad to leave this place with a pleasant experience to associate it with, since the last time I dined here, although the food was fine, I didn’t have the greatest time. It went sour for a number of reasons, no one’s fault really..... my boyfriend and I were scrapping, he didn’t love his food, I made a poor pick with some experimental organic wine, there was a cold draft, nothing worked. That was the only time over dinner that I didn’t talk for ten minutes straight (we were in silent treatment mode) and it was certainly the only time that we didn’t finish a bottle of wine at a restaurant. Brutal. Anyway, now after today, that is erased, and I will only have fond memories of La Montée de Lait.

My week of treats was perfect. I saw my friends, got to visit my little pad in Montreal , I ate some great food, both simple and elaborate, I am sated. I’m ready to tackle anything. Bring on the Christmas season!

Also, here are some very cool things to check out:

This article appeared in the NY Times a week or so ago – it is a good summary of the food ethics issues I find most important…

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/15/business/smallbusiness/15recall.html?ex=1321246800&en=cb95ab5b4157a753&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

Forwarded to me via Joel, this is a very cool hopeful story about chefs doing their part for peace in the Middle East.

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2006/11/a_little_peace.php

Here are some food movies to see, Ange's contribution....

http://www.elise.com/recipes/archives/004173favorite_foodie_movies.php