REVIEWS ARE BORING

A restaurant review doesn’t hold too many plot twists–nobody kills Colonel Mustard with a candlestick after the apps and when dessert is wheeled out nobody jumps out of the cake (though the latter idea might have some legs to it). After writing more than a hundred reviews over the course of the past five years, I feel fully exhausted by the genre. It really is paint-by-numbers writing–a point which was recently driven home by a step-by-step guide to restaurant reviews I found through Twitter. While the content of the site never became what I hoped it would  (in large part because the writing is largely revision free), there are a few reviews I wrote I thought were quite good. After toiling away on this site I  have a lot more respect for people who review restaurants for a living and consistently make them interesting (there aren’t many of you).

MOST RESTAURANTS ARE AVERAGE

Part of the reason that writing reviews is not terribly interesting is because most restaurants are average. A very large proportion of restaurants fall into a broad band of ordinariness with a small proportion standing out as really bad and an even smaller proportion standing out as really good. Most dishes at most restaurants are average and it’s not always easy to put lipstick on a pig or to come up with a great description of the non-descript.

IT’S SUBJECTIVE…BUT IT ALSO ISN’T

I often remind people that eating in restaurants is subjective. If I go to a restaurant on a Tuesday and you go to the same place on Friday, there are so many variables in play that our experiences are likely to not have much in common.  Maybe I get a bad waiter and you get a good one. Maybe the restaurant is empty when I go and full when you go. If there are thirty or so menu items what is the likelihood we eat the same thing?And even if we do, it is an entirely different plate, often made by a different person, with different ingredients. One of the most grating things over the years has been dealing with people who write to say things like, “the risotto was not salty”. Unless you were able to sneak a bite out of my plate, honestly… you don’t know. At the same time, there are a few right ways and many wrong ways to do almost anything, and this is especially true in the world of cooking. A lot of people hide behind subjectivity when they just don’t know what they’re talking about. Overcooked is overcooked. Underseasoned is underseasoned. It’s not debatable.

A GREAT CHEF DOES SOMETHING WITH NOTHING

This has always been my gripe with the people who put Au Pied de Cochon on an altar. Is the food tasty? Sure, usually it’s pretty good, but if I covered a Q-Tip in foie gras and wrapped it in bacon that might taste pretty good too. The best chefs in the world don’t need foie gras or truffles to get a rise out of you. They do it with a plate of carrots. That is true genius–and it is very rare.

VALUE MATTERS

I like value for money and I think most people, regardless of income, feel the same way. I have paid as much as $1,000 for dinner for two and not had a regret but have fumed at a $60 bill. In evaluating restaurants, we might like to say that only the food is judged, but  at $200 per person any mistake is a big one while at $50 per person the same fault might very well get swept under the table. Value is the most overlooked factor in understanding why people respond well or poorly to restaurants that are (see above) mostly average.

LEARNING TO EAT

Food is an interesting subject because most people already consider themselves experts.The truth is that 90% of people are unable to describe the sensations they experience while eating and are almost solely stimulated by fat and sugar. The biggest thing I learned from writing all those reviews was to really focus on what I ate and the most valuable thing I am taking away is a much more developed palate. You would be amazed at how your appreciation of food evolves over time when you start actively thinking about everything you put in your mouth.

No related posts.

The next dish, described as “Eel, Blood, Egg” was  quite good. It consisted of seared applewood smoked eel, served with a Hervé This-style slow cooked egg and a dollop of pig blood foam on a bread polenta. The component parts were all very interesting. The  foam was reminiscent of an airy boudin, the bread polenta packed tons of flavor and the eel was perfect. My attempt to make a slow roasted egg following Mr. This’ instructions had been less than a roaring success due to a temperamental oven and I appreciated the texture. My only complaint in fact was that there was no real textural counterpoint in the dish. The fish was firm but the portion was tiny, and the rest of the elements on the plate were fairly soft. Still, a very good dish in more than one respect.  It was followed up by “Lamb Pluck Fra Diavolo” which I thought was the highlight of the evening. Cubes of heart, liver, kidney and lung sauteed with onion and garlic and served with a mint puree and a modern looking smear of chili heavy pan drippings. I loved the contrast of the different meats, like a little offal mixed grill, and the drippings provided the deep pleasure of scraping of the caramelized and carbonised bits out of a cast iron pan after a heavy roasting. I could easily have eaten two of these.

The downward spiral started immediately afterwards with the cleverly named “Big Brain, Little Brain”, sheep brain and testicles served with a radish and watercress salad. Traditionally, brain is served in relatively small portions reflecting the fact that it is quite fatty and rich. I think my lobe, which was bigger than the ones my dining companions were served, was at least 10 ounces and it was  undercooked in the center so it didn’t have that nice creamy texture throughout. The edges were quite nice, but the ratio of salad to brain inadequate and with nothing else on the plate but a couple slices of fishy tasting sheep balls, it turned into a tiresome dish pretty quickly. The amount of cholesterol I consumed could be measured in grams. This probably would have been the worst course if it hadn’t been for a dessert which featured candied chicken fries (ie testicles), a candied cockscomb and chocolate n’duja ice cream. The ice cream was actually pretty good and the cockscomb makes sense in a dessert because its of its gelatinous texture and relatively neutral flavor, but chicken fries tasted meaty, cold and gloppy: exactly the sort of thing you wouldn’t serve with ice cream if you had given it much thought.

The ability to transform ordinary and even unwanted products into something desirable is the hallmark of a great chef. But more importantly, a great chef knows how to create plates that are balanced and make sense. It is wonderful to be surprised by a dish that doesn’t taste like you thought it would, and it is equally painful to order something and find out that it is exactly as bad as it sounded. This dinner had its high points, but more than its fair share of technical letdowns and more disappointingly, the conception of a lot of these dishes just wasn’t very good. It was like Cosentino came to Montreal with a mandate to serve up a dare instead of a meal. Judging from the feedback on Twitter and elsewhere, it looks like a lot of Montrealers didn’t get that the joke was on them.

No related posts.

Another highlight for me was the black bean soup, which was poured over cubes of olive oil fried potatoes, cured ham and a tangle of greens. The soup had a beautifully smooth consistency and a great complexity, together with a touch of heat. It was served with a chili pepper and peanut condiment that I thought added nothing but confusion to the dish, but was fantastic without it.  The main is an upscale version of puerco pibil, a braised pork loin redolent of annato, served in this case on a thick corn tortilla with a wedge of caramelized pineapple and  chilmole (a bitter black mole made from charred peppers). I like the flavor of this dish, but the meat itself is a little mealy, perhaps from overexposure to the marinade. Not a bad dish, but not one that knocks the lights out either. The description of the pannacotta in the menu was the highlight of dessert, with the actual dessert being very one-tone and topped with an uncomfortably pebbly granita.

[Show as slideshow]

If the meal was a bit of a wash, the Cocagne service was really just quite poor. No wine pouring,  no water despite repeated requests (one of my dining companions finally just walked up to the service stand and got the pitcher himself) and getting our hands on the bill was like re-negotiating the treaty of Ghent. All the more annoying, when a gaggle of front of house staff appeared to be hanging out at the bar most of the evening. Montreal Highlights is a chance for restaurateurs to showcase their restaurant, if not their food. With a full house and a set menu, service should be relatively straightforward, but Cocagne failed to rise to expectations this time.

No related posts.

I also went back to Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink in the Design District, which was the best of the bunch the last time I ate my way through Miami. Some quality again, especially in the apps. Top marks for the braised beef tongue, sliced thin and served with a spicy heirloom tomato salsa, avocado and croutons. Top marks as well for the tiny wood oven roasted eggplant served with mixed greens, tomato, raisins, pinenuts and Greek yogurt. The wood oven roasted rib steak was clumsy compared to Kitchen Galerie’s offering, but that was the only low point.

The new restaurant I had to try was Sugarcane, located just south of the Design District in midtown Miami. The crowd was younger and loud and when I hear the term “international tapas” I usually get a little queasy, but the majority of the dishes at Sugarcane were well thought out and prepared. The exception was the sushi, which everyone else loved but which was probably the most extreme Americanized sushi I have ever tried (so obviously I hated it). I loved the crudos we tried: yellowfin with grapefruit, avocado and coarse red lava salt as well as scallop with apple, black truffle, lime and jalapeno.  I could definitely go back here.

Somewhat inadvertently, I also hit a couple of high profile South Florida burger joints. Charm City Burgers in Deerfield Beach, makes big homestyle burgers and fries and has a big range of microbrews. It maintains a Mom and Pop vibe and I would rate it higher than the more well known Le Tub in Hollywood. I also stumbled into the new Shake Shack outlet in Miami Beach. Maybe it was all the hype, but I was expecting more from Shake Shack. I think the disintegrating McDonald’s style bun is the downer here, but I have to say that the patty has a great beefy/fatty taste that most burger places would be lucky to be able to replicate.

Next time, less eating. I feel like a python.

[Show as slideshow]

No related posts.

Flash forward a year and my request for a last minute Saturday night table is agreed without even a look at the books.  The cooler by the door that had housed the cheese plates and other take-out goodies needed to legally sell wine for take-out is out of order and the little bowl of sea salt has been used so little it is turning into a salt lick.  It is early but the place feels dead with only a table of lovebirds by the window and a four top that seems to be having a business meeting instead of dinner.  We order mains only and the wait to be served is really, really long. It feels like a restaurant that is going down for the count… and then the food comes.

[Show as slideshow]

A bison bavette, topped with a massive homemade onion ring and served on creamy polenta is very well seasoned and cooked. The polenta, vibrant and savory, shares the plate with a ragout of mushrooms, tomato and herbs and roasted cipollini onions. The presentation is neat and everything on the plate works in every respect and works together, from the crisp crunch of the onion ring, the sweet notes of the onion and the pleasant mouthfeel and slight acidity of the ragout. Roasted cod is cooked just as well as the bavette and is served on a parsnip puree with braised leeks and walnut vinaigrette and a little roast potato. The portion is just as big, the presentation equally strong and the elements of the dish as smartly composed.

Was this groundbreaking food? No, but it was very solid and beats the pants off what a lot of other restaurants in the same space are dishing out. At $120 with tip for a couple of mains and three glasses of wine it is probably a bit steep (and it doesn’t include the bottle of wine bought on an impulse on the way out). Still, the Steak Frites St-Paul just a few hundred feet down the street was packed. I can’t help but think that the serfs who flock there would be better served by investing a little more and eating some really good food, but that’s just me. Will I be back? I saw Beef Wellington for two on offer on the (compact) menu. To quote everyone’s favourite Alaskan: “You betcha.”

Les Cavistes
4115 St-Denis
514.903.5089
http://restaurantlescavistes.com/en/home.html

No related posts.

 

[Show as slideshow]

No related posts.

As for the toppings, the meatball and mushroom pizza had some quality. The meatballs had a lot of flavor and played well with sauteed mushrooms and the sauce was flavorful with a nice balance of sweetness and acidity. The fennel sausage, onion and red pepper pizza was so bad I don’t think it could beat take-out from Mike’sTrattoria di Mike’s (not hyperbole–really an honest assessment). When I think of a good fennel sausage, I imagine a crumbly artisanal-style sausage. Magpie’s was emulsified  (like a big hot dog) and tasted nothing of fennel. Dense, flavorless and visually unappealing it paired well with the chunks of raw onion (note that raw onion is not used for Neapolitan-style pizza, likely because the time in the oven is not enough to cook out the acidity–if you have to add it you need to shave it super thin). As for the promised roasted red peppers, well, I couldn’t find them. Maybe the first lesson in topping a pizza is taking attendance.

[Show as slideshow]

There was an inkling of this lack of attention to quality in the appetizer. Described as a ”rustic Romaine salad with Mediterranean anchovies” it  was (as I had surmised) an approximation of a Caesar salad. A Caesar salad, yes, but the Caesar salad of a 70s housewife: mayo-based dressing  and industrial croutons mixed with chunks of parmesan and topped with whole anchovies. Not too hard to put together, but the dressing had a puckering acidity from too much lemon juice . Maybe “rustic” should be translated as “thrown together based on an old Good Housekeeping recipe”. The only good thing was the homemade cookie, a chocolate chip and oatmeal job which inspired me to consider that this place might re-open as a bakery.

Apart from the food, Pizzeria Magpie was nice. There was a short but adequate selection of  beer and wine by the glass (although there is something off putting about a $10 tumbler of wine).  The decor is the (now) time tested rustic chic that predominates in Montreal: pressed tin ceiling, distressed/recycled lights, unfinished floor, kitschy signage etc…Not offensive but nothing worth writing home about. Service was friendly but quite erratic. Magpie has a short menu consisting of simple dishes, so you would think the plates would fly out of that kitchen. But even when the restaurant was mostly empty the food came out very slowly. But, if you ask me,  the service is the least of their concerns. With pizza like that, I can’t honestly see myself eating at this place again. There’s already a Tratorria de Mike’s just two blocks from my house.

Pizzeria Magpie
16 Maguire
514.507.2900

No related posts.

Appetizers are tiny but the sweetbread punches above its weight. Crispy deep fried perfection, this was one of the best fried sweetbreads I have had in long time, served with sauteed mushroom, slivers of crispy serrano ham and macadamia nuts on a chickpea base. The combination of nuts, the puree and sweetbread yield a very interesting “fat-on-fat” texture and mouthfeel, which is quite pleasant and contrasted by the mushroom. A subtle and complex dish. The JJ’s unilateral seared scallops were accompanied  by too little fennel puree and lemon confit. Sadly, the beautiful color was likely obtained by searing them in a little sugar, but a little sugar was a little too much and the result tasted a bit like a shellfish lollipop. Pretty, but not tasty.

[Show as slideshow]

Of the many things to like about CCP’s short but sweet menu, the rotating surf and turf and the hot and hearty meal specials have to rate quite highly. A surf and turf of Wagyu two ways with butter poached lobster seemed a little too mainstream, but the hot and hearty veal loin with a “risotto-style” orzo spiked with sundried tomatoes and pungent cheese seemed a little more adventurous. It turned out to be a good dish if not particularly complex. The loin was unevenly cooked and unevenly seasoned with some  parts more raw than rare. The orzo was less rissoto-like than our waitress had implied–more like a magnificent version of mac & cheese–and very tasty. Suckling pig two ways was much more impressive from a technical perspective. Smoked loin ground with mozzarella di bufala and rolled in a jade green Savoy cabbage leaf was intensely smoky and addictive, but it was the other preparation that impressed the most. A perfectly executed roulade combined the right amounts of fat and meat around a perfectly crackling skin wrapper. Served with served with an intense eggplant puree, this dish would not have been out of place in a Michelin two-star. Very impressive.

Desserts continued in the same impressive vein. Pumpkin pie with creme fraiche and pecans is highlighted by sweet and salty beet, squash and apple chips and the lightness of the churros have to be experienced to be believed.  This meal has definitely reaffirmed to me CCP’s position as one of Montreal’s three most impressive kitchens. From a technical and conceptual perspective, this was a very impressive meal. I have to get back here more often.

Club Chasse et Peche
423 St Claude
514.861.1112
http://www.leclubchasseetpeche.com/

No related posts.