On Friday I tried to meet someone at the new Walrus pub at Bay & Wellington at 5, which was a mistake, because it was a sea of suits. We opted instead for the chef’s table at Beerbistro, which were the last two seats they had, and any port in a storm and all that. Afterward I wanted some dinner while Lindsay made her way home on a train, and sandwiched between unsuccessful attempts to find a spot at a Keg and Ardo I ended up stopping in C’est What for a couple of drinks. Happily enough my buddy Jeff was working that night so we got to chat for a bit. I ended up just getting shawarma on my way home, which was delicious, even if it almost burned my face off.
Saturday morning I got up early, trying to get some errands done and supplies bought from St. Lawrence Market before the worst of the storm arrived. I did so, but later in the day we were both a bit hungry and decided to brave the ice pellets anyway, getting some lunch and beers at Eastbound.
After that it was all hatches being battened down as we huddled to watch the Raptors win game 1 of a series (finally!) and catch Lindsay up on Fargo and scarf pizza and Two Sisters cab franc.
Sunday was a whole lot of work and a little relaxation (including more Fargo) indoors as we tried to ignore the Hoth-like conditions outside our windows. We did have a delicious pasta and 2007 Nebbiolo to end the evening though.
I was back in Montreal this weekend for more fun and relaxation and Roscoe-visits. Once again we spent some time at Lindsay’s, and some time downtown in Old Montreal.
I arrived after work on Thursday, and between being tired and Lindsay being sick we didn’t have much in us other than to order some Uniburgers (which were damned good) and drink some of the Péché Day 4-pack that she bought for me at the Metro a few weeks ago.
The next morning I got up and let Lindsay sleep while I walked to Maamm Bolduc for breakfast with Mark. We scarfed sausages & eggs & fruit & potatoes & coffee and felt we had the energy to get into the day. We walked home and I found Lindsay feeling a little better, but we still took it pretty easy on the day: we watched a bunch of Fargo and ate some snacks and had a little nap, all in service of conserving her energy for dinner. We had plans to take Sara and Mark to Maison Publique to celebrate Mark’s birthday.
The dinner was, as always, outstanding. We had Quebec sparkling, fennel salad, Domaine Queylus Pinot Noir, deer tartare, duck sausage, this outstanding ‘nduja sausage ravioli in brown butter sauce, Frogpond Cabernet Franc, pork belly, halibut, a couple of pôts de crème, and some kind of fortified barrel-aged maple syrup. It was all incredible. Our night wasn’t quite done though — we decided to have a few beers at Pub Pit Caribou. It was a later night than someone just getting over a cold should have done, but Lindsay held up like a trooper, and I was really excited to get back to Pit Caribou for a second time.
The next morning was a little rough, so we all dragged our asses down to Maamm Bolduc again, and had pretty much the same breakfast (with some Caesars). That helped. After that, Lindsay and I said our goodbyes to Sara and Mark and zipped downtown to our hotel for the night: the Auberge du Vieux Port. Our room wasn’t quite ready so we ran out to Pub Brewskey for a beer and a bite. We split the same bottle of A La Fût Flanders Red that I drank myself (!) while here last fall.
We hung out back in the room for a few hours, then walked to dinner at Les 400 Coups, a joint recommended to Lindsay a while back. It was quiet when we got there (8pm is early for dinner in Montreal, I guess) but soon picked up. The service experience was slightly uneven, but the food – New Brunswick oysters; oxtail dumplings w/ wild bay leaf, and shiitake mushrooms; red chicory salad w/ pear, maple, and sunchoke; beef tartare w/ bone marrow, crispy shallots, espelette, and wild rice; scallops w/ glazed pork belly, sweet potato, and oyster mushrooms – was excellent. The drinks were great too: we had a lovely Blanc de Noirs when we sat down, took sommelier Jonathan’s excellent recommendation (2015 Allegracore Etna Rosso Doc) to have with our meal, including some stellar cheese for first dessert. Then second dessert – a crazily rich chocolate moelleux with dulce de leche – was paired with something I’ve never seen before: a Tannat dessert wine. When remarking to the sommelier that this was a strange new find for us, he recognized that we were a worthy audience for some other treats stashed behind the bar: a prune eau de vie, some kind of beautiful tomato (!) liqueur, and a craft elderflower liqueur that makes me never ever want to see St Germain again. What a lovely experience.
Sunday morning I checked out Café Olimpico, which had good Americanos and superb croissants, and we chilled in the room for the morning before checking out. We grabbed lunch at the hotel’s restaurant, Taverne Gaspar (surprisingly good mussels and fish + chips, actually) then posted up at Olimpico to do some work and drink some cortados.
We decided to grab some early dinner at Mangiafoco before my flight. Last time I came to Montreal we stayed right across the street from it, but hadn’t noticed. Turns out it has very good pizza, and amazing cheese. (It actually bills itself as a “Mozzarella Bar,” bless its heart.) We had burrata with tomatoes and some salumi, and a sausage pizza, and a very nice bottle of Pinot Nero from Piemonte, and a nice apple-y dessert. While we were sitting there my flight got delayed, and delayed again (turns out a small airplane had broken down on the Toronto Island runway, wreaking havoc on all flights for the rest of the day) so we ended up going next door to Philemon Wine Bar for one last one: Franciacorta for Lindsay, and orange wine (again, from Piemonte) for me.
Finally I jumped into an Uber, which turned out to be an ordeal: one highway closure and this guy was utterly lost. After going in a circle and threatening to do it again I had to direct him out of downtown and to the airport, all while nearly missing a number of exits. I arrived at the airport to find out that if my flight was delayed so much as five minutes we risked being redirected to Pearson, or even Hamilton, but Porter came through and got us off the ground in record time. We landed with thirteen minutes to spare.
Last night a few of us gathered for a little work celebration dinner at Jacobs. I wasn’t going to say no to that.
We had cocktails and oysters and jumbo shrimp and beer tartare and caesar salads to start. We had the UN assembly of steaks for our mains (Wagyu from Japan, non-Wagyu from the US, Argentina, and Canada, all in descending order of deliciousness) along with mushrooms and spinach and duck fat fries and multiple bottles of Ridge and a Bordeaux I didn’t catch the name of (because I didn’t order it). We had 1986 Don PX to drink, except we all shared a glass of the 1929 just to taste the difference, and my god the difference.
I don’t care what anyone says. Best steakhouse in Toronto.
Last night (after we’d also had a pretty bad ass meal at White Lily earlier in the day) we had dinner at Ascari Enoteca.
We had cocktails (a Paper Plane and a Manhattan), then arancini cacio e pepe (rice balls / pecorino cheese / pepper / fonduta) and broccolini fritti (lightly battered broccolini / pecorino cheese / lemon zest), along with glasses of 2016 Heidi Schrock Welschriesling/Furmint and 2015 Podere Il Saliceto ‘Falistra’ Lambrusco.
For our mains we had spaghetti alla carbonara (guanciale / roast squash / pecorino cheese / egg yolk / cracked black pepper) and risotto (braised lamb / roasted tomatoes / wild mustard purée / grilled wild onions) with a bottle of 2014 Le Boncie ‘Le Trame’ Sangiovese. Dessert was their cannoli (stewed apples / mascarpone / caramel / crumble) and a top off of espresso.
I was just in Florida again. For the second time in less than two weeks, after only being there once in my life to date. Not Miami this time though — just north of there, in Hollywood. Which is an odd place. (Like, you know, Florida.)
I was there for a conference, and flew in the day before. I flew Air Canada Rouge for the first time, which — because my bid for an upgrade was accepted — was pretty smooth. I watched Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (imdb | rotten tomatoes), which I thought was pretty meh.
From the Fort Lauderdale airport I went to the conference resort, the Diplomat Beach Resort. Resorts like that weird me out — there’s nothing around there but other resorts, so people check in with the express intent of not leaving for a week. Anyway, I checked into my room, which had this view. Pas terrible.
I ate dinner at the bar at Diplomat Prime, their steakhouse. I had summer sweet corn bisque w/ alaskan king crab, black truffle, crème fraîche, and caviar (along with an Alsatian Pinot Gris) and an 18oz ribeye + jumbo asparagus w/ hollandaise, and crispy onion (with a glass of 2012 Chateau Magnol from Medoc). I could only eat about half the steak (I mean, seriously) and took the rest home, and skipped dessert. Well, mostly: I had a glass of Angel’s Envy Rye, which was intriguing.
Breakfast the next day — the next three days, really — was at Counterpoint downstairs, and lunch was a room service fried chicken sandwich + Hollywood Brewing session IPA.
Dinner that night was down the road, in another community with even more ridiculously flash resorts (there was a collection of Bentleys out front of this one), at the Il Mulino New York in the Acqualina resort. Tasty food — caprese, cheese tortellini, chicken w/ asparagus, and a pile o’ desserts — but my favourite part was the conversation with the other people at my table. I bonded with the Newfoundlander and the military guy across the table. As one does.
The next day, after the conference wrapped for the evening, we were hosted across the road at Portico, facing onto the intracoastal waterway. I scarfed a bowl of rice, gulf shrimp, spicy beef, and avocado, and a glass of sauv blanc (fucking Kim Crawford) and admired the view before I ran off. My brain was working overtime and I wanted to get my thoughts out before banal conversation killed it all.
Later that night, after working a bunch, I was still hungry and popped downstairs to Point Royal for a solo table. I had grilled spanish octopus w/ pickled fresno chili, celery, fennel, mint, basil, and roasted garlic yogurt, and yellowfin tuna tartare w/ avocado, and chili-sesame seed vinaigrette. It was pretty unremarkable.
The conference wrapped the next day and my airport experience / flight home was unremarkable, except that I chatted with this lady for most of the flight, which never happens to me. Oh, and the Newfoundlander from two nights’ previous was sitting behind me! I guess the universe wanted me to socialize.
Brother #1 was in town this week, and we had an opportunity to catch up last night over dinner. After Lindsay and I had a drink at Nota Bene we joined him at Byblos. Here’s what we ate:
Starters
lamb ribs w/ dukkah + buttermilk sauce + carob molasses + red chili schug
Once again, on a weekend where we were just too busy and tired to do much shopping, let alone cooking, we’ve eaten very well these past few days.
Saturday morning we hit Eastbound for what’s becoming our go-to brunch option. I had the pancake + fried chicken + omelet dealie, and Lindsay had the fried cod sandwich. We each had a Left Field “Squeeze Play” sour and one of their house beers.
Saturday evening, because we liked it so much the first time but found ourselves in a bit of a hurry, we returned to Gare de l’Est. We took our time, and after a wobbly start with our server, the meal really found a groove. We had half a dozen oysters and glasses of Tarlant. I started with the salade de betteraves (beets, cashews, watercress, Grey Owl cheese) while Lindsay had the soupe à l’oignon gratinée (beef broth, soft onions, Gruyère & Emmental, crouton). I had the canard (pan-roasted duck breast, port jus, white bean fricassee, charred treviso, bacon lardons) for my main; Lindsay the saumon a l’oseile (Pacific King Salmon, Tokoyo Turnip, fresh sorrel, beurre blanc). We paired that with a bottle of 2009 Savigny-Les-Beaunes. For dessert they brought us out a bit of cheese while we finished our wine. Superb meal all around.
Today for brunch we made breakfast at home (!) with buttery eggs, spicy chorizo sausages, and sourdough bread, all from Butchers of Distinction. We ate this simple feast while watching Bob’s Burgers and drinking a 2010 Benjamin Bridge Brut sparkling.
Tonight, though, we ruined the streak when we finally tried the Cider House, the newest addition to our neighbourhood. We had high hopes given the menu, but man…what a letdown. The pork belly ribs were good, but two of the four ribs that came out had virtually no meat on them…just bone! Lindsay’s burger & fries were meh. My pork chop was okay but a little overdone. The apple + chorizo mash that came with it was pretty good though. Our ciders — the popular mint + basil, and the dry hopped — were better than I expected, but I’m still not that much of a cider fiend, so I opted for a Mill Street (that’s all they carry) vanilla porter for my second.
More than the food, the real let-down was the service. Our server was trying, but he seemed over-matched. We were missing side plates, then cutlery, then I didn’t had a knife suitable for my chop. And my second drink order was forgotten. In fairness, he took that drink off the bill — good thing, too, since one app + two mains + three ciders came to $97 before tip. Not insane for this city, but it was hard to discern value for money.
On top of that, the place just had a weird vibe. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but we both left thinking this place was no threat to Eastbound. Eastbound’s beer may be just north of okay and their prices are high, but their food is excellent, the service is always on, and it just feels more relaxed.
I spent about 36 hours in Miami this week. After kind of not wanting to go back to Florida ever, I’m going twice in two weeks, which is weird. But this quick there-and-back for work was pretty fun.
First of all, neither I nor the conference organizers knew it was spring break season, and the hotel closest to the South Beach conference venue was a short walk from the beach. As a result it seemed the entire guest roster of the hotel was drunk, loud, and scantily clad. The walls of that hotel are also paper-thin, so when the room next to mine became a nightclub around 2am, I was off the sleep.
Anyway, the event went well and the venue was very cool. It was chilly (by Miami standards; I was still in a t-shirt) on Wednesday when I arrived, but the day of the event it got up to 28º and I was more than happy to be walking around outside. I got a coffee at this cute place on Española Way called Papo, and had plans in the afternoon to go back to what seemed to be a nice little French café called A La Folie, but there was a blaring alarm going off across the street which would have killed the vibe.
After the work event we had a few drinks (sadly, Blue Moon was the best beer on offer) and I did a bit of work before heading to dinner. I crossed the bridge into downtown Miami for drinks at Area 31 (where I had some kind of ridiculously delicious sweet & smokey cocktail) and dinner at Zuma, both at the Kimpton EPIC hotel. Zuma was an excellent spot, and I was yapping a bit too much to get much of the food, but what I had was stellar. So was the wine. The hosts let me order a bottle, which was a big mistake on their part.
Anyway, as much as I still get the heebiejeebies going to a state like Florida, I will admit that Miami has some charms.
Last Saturday, while in Montreal, I went to Toqué with Lindsay. I was excited to do a proper tasting menu again after a bit of a hiatus, and at the #2-rated restaurant in Canada no less. I’ve posted a scan of the menu, but suffice it to say it was one of the best tasting menus I’ve ever experienced. Impeccable from start to finish, and the drink pairings were inspired.
A few notes on the below:
We led off with oysters, and two glasses of Champagne each: a blanc de blancs and a blanc de noirs. Lovely both, though I (not surprisingly) favoured the blanc de blancs. One (I can’t remember which) was by Benoit Lahaye; I don’t remember the other.
The wine pairing for the fish course (Lindsay had the foie gras and, therefore, the Xeres) was an adventure:
The wine with the halibut was not the Lighthall Chardonnay as shown below, but in fact a Bachelder Wismer Vineyard chard.
However, since the Sommelier and I were bonding over the evening’s wine, he brought out a blind taster for us to try. We didn’t have the printed menu yet, so I didn’t know it was the Lighthall. The crispness and lack of oak made me think of Chablis, but it had an unmistakable Ontario character. I just couldn’t get my mind to it though, and when he produced the bottle I sighed, “Oh, Glenn made that!”
Finally: because we were chatting so much about Lindsay’s Xeres he accidentally poured me a glass as well. Sweet.
Every course was stunning, but the venison, halibut, cheese, and dessert were really special, and Lindsay’s foie knocked her out.
The drink pairings were so fun and out there — the somm actually sounded apologetic when he explained that they went with a straightforward pairing for the venison — with a French table beer, a Portuguese wine made up of just about every grape there is, and what was essentially a German pet-nat made from Müller-Thurgau. Stop it. Just stop.
A few key translations: bar = bass; l’oursin = sea urchin; flétan = halibut (from Nova Scotia no less!); cerf = deer; and L’Adoray is a local cheese.
For the first time in quite a while, I spent this weekend in Montreal visiting Lindsay. I missed it. Also: we appear to have saved up our appetites until now.
I landed Friday and dropped my bags at Lindsay’s, and after scratching Roscoe hello on his stupid little dingus head we shot downtown. We grabbed lunch and a (tasty, but too hot) cortado at Kafein, and spent the afternoon at an event.
After that we hit N Sur Mackay for cocktails; I had the special (which was Laphroaig and red wine and something else but mostly tasted like Laphroaig) and a Lemon Tartlette.
Tartlets? Tartlets?
We were all hungry, and this trend of pouring cocktails into empty stomachs seemed dangerous, so we walked to Café Parvis. Lindsay and I had been there for brunch before (though she didn’t remember) but it was much better for dinner. We all shared a big cucumber salad, then Lindsay and I split a white margherita pizza — basically a caprese salad on a thin crust — and it was fantastic.
After dinner four of us walked a few more blocks to the Benelux on Sherbrooke and fought for some seats long enough to have one last beer. For me it was one of their house beers, the Captaine Ganache imperial porter.
Man. Busy day. The weekend was just getting started though.
On Saturday, after we dragged our tired asses out of bed, we did a bit of work and then got ourselves some brunch. We walked to Maison Publique, a frequent dinner destination, but not somewhere I’d had brunch before. While they have a varied menu, I went pretty straight down the middle re: brunch: pancakes + bacon. But wow, it was good. I wolfed it all down along with a Caesar. Lindsay had some kind of sausage + mushroom dish, with a bunch of Tawse sparkling.
After brunch I was on the verge of a pancake coma, so we stopped at Cardynal on the way home. Nice shop. Nice cortado.
After picking up a few supplies and heading home to pack, we Uber’d downtown to the Hotel Nelligan, where we’d stay the next few nights. It was a lovely, classic Old Montreal hotel, with exposed brick and such. We did some more work in our room, then did away with most of the supplies we’d brought while the snow whitened the outside.
That night we had dinner at Toqué, which…I mean, I’m going need some time & space to describe. There’s a reason it was ranked the #2 restaurant in Canada last year — it was the best meal I’ve had in Canada since the last time I ate at Alo (which was #1). I’ll write about that later in the week.
On Sunday we slept in a bit, but got up with the intention of heading downstairs for the last 30 minutes or so of breakfast…and then realized that daylight savings happened overnight, and the clock by the bed was wrong, so we’d missed breakfast. Dagnabbit. We came up with a plan B: Brasserie 701. As many times as I’ve stayed at the Place d’Armes, I’ve never eaten brunch there. We hit it pretty hard, starting with the bottomless mimosas (!) and going from there. My burger was one of the best I’ve had in ages, but I left in some full-stomach agony.
We grabbed a coffee on the way home from Crew Collective & Café, and just did more work back in the room.
It was a cozy room to work in too, I can tell you. We hung out there until it was time for dinner, which we’d arranged down the street at Bocata, a place we visited our first time together in Montreal. We had a few oysters to start, then Lindsay had the lobster carbonara tagliatelle and I had the sea bass. We paired this with a California white which, while predominantly Chardonnay, had a bunch of Rhone varietals in there as well, and it knocked us out. Terrific stuff. We had a cheese board for dessert with the last of our wine, then got some sweet Quebec wine and cider for a last taste. Well, almost: our server brought us a few shots of Sortilège. Ouf. We rolled home for more work.
This morning we got up early, ate some overpriced room service, and went to a thing for Lindsay. I got some work done back at a nearby cafê (Kafein again), then rejoined her for the rest of the day.
We had a little time at the end of the day before I had to leave for my flight, so we went to Dieu du Ciel for some beers (a Nativité blonde, a Résurrection porter, a Déesse Nocturne stout, and — praise be — a Péché Mortel) and very-late lunch before I hopped in a cab.
I got home a few hours ago, and I’m not happy about it. That was honestly one of the best weekends of my life, and it hurt to leave Lindsay, even if I’ll see her again in a few days. We’ll be talking about this weekend for years, though.
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 