A MOVE TO MANITOBA
Chef fits resto’s simple mission
Restaurants occasionally go through what I refer to as a “Laloux period.” Local foodies might understand the reference to the restaurant on des Pins Ave. that over the past decade has switched chefs more often than the Kardashians change outfits. I’ve reviewed Laloux around a half-dozen times, and with a new chef behind the stoves this year, a revisit is imminent.
Restaurants that are not chefowned risk falling into this chefswap cycle — especially these days, when many chefs are either owners or partners in their restaurant. Yet there remains a group of talented Montreal cooks who make the rounds. Jean-François Vachon (now at L’Express), Eric Gonzalez (chef at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon) and S’Arto Chartier-Otis (who recently departed from Hvor) come to mind. With thick CVs and well-worn knives, these chefs have adapted their style to numerous establishments, from simple bistros to gastronomic temples.
Manitoba is a restaurant that seems to be going through a Laloux period of its own, as this is my third review of the Little Italy resto since it opened in 2014. Already three chefs have cycled through its kitchen: Chris Parasiuk, followed by Michael Dalla Libera, and most recently Cedric Nolet. No matter who was doing the cooking, though, the cuisine was always based on local ingredients, with an emphasis on foraged and wild foods. And at Manitoba, the room is as much of a draw as what’s on the plate. Owners Elisabeth Cardin and Simon Cantin created a chic warehouse space complete with a bar up front and a large open kitchen in the dining room. There’s a garage door in the back overlooking a square of greenery, and tables are surrounded by those bare-bones wooden chairs we all squirmed on in high school.
The reason for my return less than a year after my last review was news that Manitoba’s chef is now Simon Mathys, a talented cook who has yet to settle down. He started at Bar & Boeuf, followed by Racines. Most recently he was at Accords and Accords le Bistro, where he worked miracles turning those once underperforming restaurants into winners. I’ve long been a card-carrying member of the Mathys fan club, so the news of his arrival at Manitoba was intriguing. Though I awarded the restaurant three stars for my last meal, the service and buzzy ambience won out over the somewhat overwrought food. It was good, but perhaps trying a little too hard with ingredients like lichen, balsam and cedar falling into the Nordic cuisine style but, alas, lacking oomph on the plate.
Mathys was a wise choice, as his strength lies in bold plate presentations as well as sharp flavour combinations based on a strong cooking technique. What surprised me most with Mathys at Manitoba was that he has managed to fit his cuisine into the mission statement spelled out on the restaurant’s menu: “We wanted a taste of the forest in our plates, a taste of nature in our glasses, wood, rock, wind. But over all, we wanted to share in the simplicity of eating well, drinking well and having a good laugh together.” Mission accomplished, I’d say.
Before getting into the food, a word about the restaurant itself. I know we’re all a bit tired of the term “hipster,” but if ever there was a restaurant that epitomized the word, Manitoba would be it. And I mean that in the best way. The craft cocktails, the orange wine, the industrial design, the cool crowd — it all comes together so perfectly as the place you want to take out-of-towners to show them how happening our fair little city can be. Filled with a selection of private imports sure to seduce even the pickiest natural/biodynamic oenophile, the wine list is another plus.
As for the food, save for a few strange flavour combinations, I fully enjoyed Mathys’s offerings, starting with a dish of raw salmon. Unlike the usual tartare, this salmon was cut into large chunks and served atop whipped cream flavoured with mustard and peppery green alder (a Quebec-grown spice with a flavour similar to pimento). Topping it off was a galette of golden potato ribbons, adding the ideal earthy flavour and crisp texture to all the soft sea and spice tastes below. What a treat!
A second appetizer, featuring diced and marinated seal meat, was flavoured with Saskatoon berries, smoked butter and a sort
of tagliatelle of raw celery root. A few friends at the table recoiled at the idea of seal, but Mathys handled this iron-rich meat well, highlighting its resilient texture more than strong flavour.
A dish starring clams and rutabaga also scored, playing with that surf-and-turf riff once again. Adding further flavour sparks were hits of chervil, a sprinkling of sumac and potent buckwheat kernels. Talk about your out-ona-limb cooking.
The only starter that left me cold was the “beet civet,” an unusual mix of thick red beet slices blanketed in a glossy brown chicken liver sauce. First off, the look wasn’t in any way pleasing, and second, the flavours were just plain weird, with the sweetness of the beet and the bitterness of the liver sauce at odds with each other.
Happily, mains all came up roses. My top pick was a duck magret served with a side salad composed of day lilies, trout lilies, lavender and pearl onion petals. Wow. Lavender is a strong flavour, but Mathys used just enough to add a subtle taste of summer to those bitter leaves. But what I really enjoyed was the duck itself: tender, full-flavoured and cooked to the ideal pinky centre. Heaven.
The chef’s cooking skills were also on display in a dish of walleye with beets, beurre blanc and white pine. The beets played the dish a bit too sweet (why all those unseasonal beets in late spring?), but the creamy and delicate walleye was a revelation. What a fish! Everyone at the table had a taste, with a dab of butter sauce on each bite, resulting in swoons all around.
Though delicious, the other main courses didn’t impress to the same degree. One featuring a deer filet paired with potatoes, fat roasted mushrooms and pickled onions was good, but the accompanying malt cream sauce was too creamy (as in rich) and too malty (as in it reminded me of a malted milk). And as much as I relished the crisp skin on two pieces of pig trotter meat in another dish, the pork itself lacked flavour.
To end the meal, we began with a nugget of sensual goat’s cheese that was drizzled with honey and featured a crumble flavoured with rose hip. Lovely. Following that came a chocolate cream buzzed up with balsam fir served atop a caramelized apple sauce covered with a layer of granola. Yum! Even better was a small square of sour cream cake topped with poached rhubarb, crumble, and cream made with roasted white chocolate, which just might be my favourite dessert of 2017 so far.
Service was not only sharp, but exceedingly friendly. If I really had to find something to criticize, I guess I could complain about the lack of availability of a few bottles on the wine list. (I’m told it’s being rejigged.) But besides that and the occasional quibble with the food, I’m happy to report Manitoba is a success under Mathys. I hope he’ll stick around for a while. Those Laloux periods are best short-lived.
You can hear Lesley Chesterman on ICI Radio-Canada Première’s (95.1 FM) Médium Large Tuesdays at 10 a.m., and on CHOM (97.7 FM) Wednesdays at 7:10 a.m. criticsnotebook@gmail.com twitter.com/LesleyChestrman