Honorable Mention: Leméac's French toast dessert

Pas mal

I feel like I've put on weight recently. Rather than be horrified and use my toothbrush for purposes other than dental hygiene, I've decided to take a more positive mental (and physical) approach. As I write this I am looking over the Crete Senese, a Bob Ross painting-like area in Tuscany. Google it. I had a hunk of parmigiano for breakfast (and a bit more for lunch), I won't deny it. Life could be worse than an extra 5 pounds.

Rewind three weeks. Two of my best pals and I are finally in the same area code after weeks of traveling for work (or in my case, to put in some face time with Samburger in D.C.). We decided to reunite at the lovely Leméac on Laurier to fête the belated birthday of B, a trooper of a clothing sales rep who's been peddling her wares on the road for weeks (with only hand luggage, no less!)

I hadn't been to Leméac in years, but as resident restaurant chooser I figured it was a safe bet, and it was. I know they have that Plebe-friendly $25 after 10 p.m. deal, but there was no way we were waiting until the double-digit hours to commence our evening.

We ordered well:

To start:

-Mushroom ravioli with cream sauce, pine nuts and arugula ($15)

-Panko-crusted goat cheese, apple and walnut salad ($12)

Mains:

-Classic tartar ($25 - a bloody fortune for something that does not come with a side, or BMW) with potato puree ($6)

-Truffle oil tartar ($25), which tasted no different than the Classic, with fries ($6)

-Mussels & fries (oddly not on the online menu, unless I'm visually challenged)

The food was nice, don't get me wrong. It just wasn't the type of meal I'd write home - or on the internet - about. For those prices I far prefer either of the Tavern locations (Monkland or Westmount). However, there was one major standout: the famed French toast dessert.

Aside from all the picci, pizza, parmigiano, Prosecco, prosciutto, and all the other P (and other letter) foods I've been inhaling while in Italy, Leméac's French toast dessert is the reason I now need Spanx.

French toast w/ milk jam ice cream and maple caramel - $12

First you have the hunk of bread. I'm inclined to say it's brioche (correct me if I'm wrong). Perfectly charred, perfectly plump, perfectly puffy on the inside - the Pavarotti (RIP) of French toast. Then there's the generous scoop of "milk jam" ice cream. I use quotes because I don't get this whole milk-flavored ice cream trend. I recently sampled NYC's Momofuku Milk Bar's "milk jug" iteration and was equally confused. Call me ignorant, but it tastes like vanilla. Either way, it was ample enough to provide a frosty reservoir in every spoonful of the French toast. To top it off you have the maple caramel - the ultimate hybrid of warm sugars - which cascades over the French toast and pools beneath it. 

My birthday is next month (April 15th, to be exact). Instead of the perennial Loblaws cake, I think I'll opt for Leméac's French toast. Think they'd mind if I just dropped in for dessert? I'll need a table for three - me and my love handles. 

Leméac
1045 Laurier O.
Montreal, QC
(514) 270-0999
www.restaurantlemeac.com
Reservations through OpenTable

Jane

Winter has come. I know it's only October, but here in Montreal fall is merely an excuse to buy overpriced cashmere sweaters and consume gluttonous amounts of pumpkin pie. As I write this from underneath my Ninja Turtle Snuggie all I can think about is one thing: pizza. More specifically, Jane pizza. Confession: I think about pizza more than people bemoan the price of gas. If it wasn't for the copious amounts of Halloween candy I consumed earlier today, I'd even consider venturing down to Griffintown to fetch some.

Not only does Jane have the best pizza in Montreal (I'd notarize this if I could), but there's something about this place that beckons you to spend an evening on its cozy banquette or bar-high back table, (the site of last Hanukah's gift exchange among my gal pals. In case you were wondering, I received a very handy pair of Blackberry/iPhone'ing gloves, sort of like these, only less OJ Simpson'ish.) As I was saying, Jane beats the devil out of any restaurant that's ever been described as "warm and inviting."

Maybe it has something to do with my memories of parallel parking into snowbanks on drafty Notre-Dame Street or of klonking into the place with my Sorel boots, but whenever I'm cold I automatically crave Jane.

Last Saturday was no exception. Snow's southern cousin, Rain Storm, was in town and had set up shop for the night. I had been looking forward to our 10:30 p.m. reservation since 8:30 that morning. Samburger, DF (Samburger's BFF) and I rolled in ready to gorge. 

Buffalo fries ($6)

Joined by our friends KR & BG, we started the meal off with two orders of Buffalo fries. Anyone who's ever ordered Buffalo Bills will feel me on the following. Remember how when ordering the "combo pack" the fries would get all coated with wing sauce? Remember how freakin' delicious that was? Well, that's what these fries taste like, but better. 

Taco: Minced beef, salsa, guacamole, cheddar, coriander, sour cream - olé! ($22)

After a night of too much tequila and grappa, a taco and a pizza got together and created this sweet love child. What makes this pie work is the symmetry of the toppings. No one thing overwhelms the other. I particularly love the sour cream; I will definitely experiment with a dollop next time I make pizza at home (Dr. Oetker's, that is).

Bianca: Béchamel sauce, Mozzarella di Bufala, parmesan, pesto, truffle oil ($17)

When most people hear the word "rich" they think of Hermès, Rolex watches and Apple shareholders. I think of the Bianca. And just like the infamous Birkin, the Bianca is a true indulgence.

Mac 'N' Cheeza: Cheesy macaroni, tomato sauce,  3 cheeses (ominous), truffle oil ($19)

One word comes to mind when I see this picture: bulbous. It's practically giving birth! Unlike some other crusts, these orbs are far from hollow. This perfectly puffed pizza platform is all dough through and through.

The Mac 'N' Cheeza may seem like overkill, but it actually makes sense together. The macaroni adds a wacky layer of texture to this otherwise "normal" plain pizza. Don't get me wrong, Jane's so-called "plain" offering, the Rossa [not pictured], is far from normal. It's a revelation. 

The nice thing about Jane, aside from it being all-around awesome, is that tax is included in the prices. Hence, no need to pull out your abacus come cheque time.

In terms of price, this place is definitely Plebe-appropriate. Each pizza easily feeds two. But what really makes it Plebe is the atmosphere. In a zip code where mortgage-breakers like Joe Beef and Liverpool House reign supreme, anyone can waltz into Jane (with a reservation) and be treated to an incredible meal for under $20. 

Price: $20 per person + tip. Samburger paid. 

Jane

1744 Notre-Dame West

Montreal, QC

(514) 759-6498

Reservations are a must!

Le Cartet

It feels strange to be writing about brunch for my inaugural blog post. For one, as a currently unemployed plebe, I tend to save what scarce resources I do have for dinners out (my favourite meal of the day). Secondly, those times I do venture for the day's introductory meal, rarely is it to a yuppie place like Le Cartet. I say yuppie for a few reasons: 

1. My bill was over $25 (my meal, pictured below, plus a mimosa). Way too expensive for a meal that should cost less than one hour of minimum-wage work.
2. The words "organic," "frittata" and "flaxseed" appear on the menu.
3. The front of the restaurant houses a cute little "épicerie & prêt à manger" (their words, not mine) packed with ready-made "boîtes à lunch" and dark chocolate bars from pirate-ridden, far away lands.
4. The handful of tables outside of the restaurant were occupied by affluent hipster-types, the this-jacket-is-John-Varvatos-but-totally-looks-thrifty type of folk who tend to live in this she-she, über-gentrified part of town (Old Montreal). Did I mention the abundance of canine companions tethered to the tables, slurping up (insert fancy water name here)? True story.
5. The interior is reminiscent of an industrial loft. In true yuppie/hipster fashion, one wall is painted-over exposed brick.
6. My meal was supposed to come with an amuse-bouche (I swear), OJ, fruits and coffee. I never saw any of the four. Major service fail.  

Lies

Despite the above-mentioned pitfalls, I freakishly enjoyed my meal here. So much so that I have unofficially vowed to come here and only here for brunch from now on (every second leap year).

Brunch Santé: Organic ginger granola with yogurt and blueberries, poached eggs on mesclun on country style bread, cheddar sticks with figs and assorted fresh fruits ($11.95)

This may sound overdramatic, but my meal was perfection. First off, the fresh fruits were legitimately fresh. No packaged, day-old crap. This stuff was farmer's market worthy. Second, the not too mild, but not too ancient cheddar sticks were served at the ideal room temp. I don't eat figs so I have no idea how that tasted, but I'll assume it was par for the course. Third, the subtly sweet organic ginger granola (another flag for the yuppie radar) was plenty and well dispersed. Coupled with the tangy yogurt and the molecular-sized blueberries, this was a lovely side dish. Now on to the star: the country style bread topped with mesclun and poached eggs. What really brought this all together was the anonymous green shmeer you see poking out from under the egg. Was it some form of cream cheese? Was it a mayo? I'll never know, but man did that fill a void.

My dining companions were equally enamoured with their selections. The "Toasta Mixta" (Portuguese grilled cheese stuffed with eggs, ham, brie, onions and mustard, served with a mesclun salad) won rave reviews.

This place may be the furthest thing from Plebe, but I whole-heartedly advocate stepping out of the milieu every once in a while (if you can afford it). Sans mimosa, this meal would ring in under $20. I'm just a lush.

Price: a bank-breaking $27 (tip included). 

Le Cartet
106 McGill St. 
Montreal, QC 
(514) 871-8887
www.lecartet.com
No reservations