I fell hard for Jolifou the first time I ate there, coming back again the very next night. But, though I liked my subsequent visits, the food never hit the high notes of those first meals again. Not to say that it was ever bad, because you don’t eat badly at Jolifou but I didn’t leave with the same excitement. On this night, Jolifou was not top of mind. I passed it on my way to somewhere else and was lucky to get in without a reservation, and I got to sit at the bar, which is something I had never done before.

I am starving when I sit down and shell shocked from a hard day at work (haven’t had one of those in a while–looks like the recession is over). I dig into dense white bread served with a homemade corn salsa in which a nice acidity and sweetness balance out a forward spiciness. Nice, but in my mind it seems a little out of place being served with the bread and butter. I resist a keen urge to just eat it directly with the spoon and make gamely attempts at spreading it on my bread.

Jolifou is an interesting place to eat because very little is as it seems. Take the salmon tartare. The fish is mixed with a brunoise of tomatillo and red pepper, shallot, tabsaco and cilantro and is served on a bed of sliced avocado.  The plate is garnished with chives and a  lemongrass pineapple reduction. The mainly South American flavours work well together and I like the dish a lot, especially the sweetness of the reduction which is an interesting twist, but I don’t fall in love it. The fish is a little fatty (a bone I often must pick with farmed salmon) and I don’t get that savory pop of fresh raw fish, perhaps because of all the other flavours. Still, you would have to be a fool to badmouth this tartare (and I am no such thing). The JJ orders an old favourite, grilled calamari tossed on mixed greens with mojo. She claims she has never had it before, but I keep records of these things. It is as good as ever.

I must admit watching my main being prepared was quite titillating, if only because the hanger steak that was removed from the marinade and popped on the grill seemed to be a portion for two. Needless to say it was cooked to the perfect rareness Served on potatoes sauteed with cabbage and lardons and with roasted carrot and beet, the highlight was a veal reduction spiked with chipotle  that had an intense depth of flavour reminiscent of a savory molasses. Amazingly good: the kind of dish in which every bite seems better than the last. I would say that I was wishing I could eat it forever but the portion was so large that I was uncomfortably full just trying to finish what was on the plate.

The JJ sampled a newer menu item available as an entree or a main: a lobster and pappardelle salad. Served warm, it featured some impressive chunks of firm, sweet lobster, soft sheets of perfectly toothsome pasta, aragula, mango,  sweet pickled cucumber and basil oil. A lot of restaurants try being inventive with lobster and, frankly, a lot of what ends up on menus can’t beat a steamed bug for flavour, but this salad is definitely an exception. None of the elements overpower the lobster but there were interesting matches and contrasts, like the sweetness of the mango and cucumber versus the peppery  basil oil and aragula. I am ordering this next time I eat at Jolifou.

Although stuffed to the gills we order dessert: a white chocolate and blueberry struedel served with creme anglaise. It was tasty but nothing more with the thin creme anglaise serving as the disappointing note. But a second dessert is sent our way by chef David Ferguson and this one has all the elements of a champion. The Ricard parfait is topped with a nicely balanced strawberry sauce served with a rhubarb compote, some crumble and a little tamarind sauce. This dessert is an exercise in restraint, in which the strong flavors of the liqueur, the rhubard and the tamarind are not permitted to dominate and every bite yields different taste sensations. It also shows how this kitchen has great success matching elements from different culinary traditions.

The Ricard parfait was actually the second time in my six visits (not counting Jamie Kennedy) to Jolifou that I have been given a second free dessert. Not an amazing statistic but enough to make the All Star team if you’re a baseball player. While it doesn’t say much about me, it speaks volumes about Chef Ferguson’s personality–and seeing him in action might have been the best thing about our bar seats. He is a larger than life character-like a cartoon interacting with customers in French (as much as possible) and English (when its obvious its your preference). Jovial, unpretentious and with an obvious pride in his food and the products he serves. He shows off his aged prime rib, he shares free samples of home smoked duck breast, he works the bar asking customers what they like and whipping up little off-menu dishes. He is one of the most likable chefs I have ever seen in action (although in fairness, a lot of my perspective involved carrying plates and getting yelled at).

I called a good four restaurants for last minute reservations before driving by Jolifou. After eating that meal, I know my chances of having bettered it were pretty slim. I feel like I did the first two times I ate at Jolifou. Like I can’t wait to go back to find out what great surprise they will spring on me next. The romance has been rekindled.

Le Jolifou

1840 Beaubien E.

514.722.2175