L’EXPRESS A JEWEL
Excellence is a constant
What would Montreal be without its restaurants? Just imagine our city without Au Pied de Cochon, Toqué!, Moishes, Café Ferreira, Le Filet or your particular favourite. Tough. But for me, Montreal without one particular restaurant would be unimaginable: L’Express. Not once have I walked past its cream-coloured exterior and black-and-white checkered entranceway without yearning to go inside. And when I do, I relish every moment, slowly hanging my coat up on one of the hooks beside the door, turning around to scan the scene, looking for familiar staff members like the legendary barman Monsieur Masson, the tall and handsome waiter Patrick, the debonair Robert. And then there are the maitre d’s: the ever-smiling Roch Arsenault and the razor sharp Josée Préfontaine. I have never been anything but thrilled to dine here. True confession: L’Express is my favourite Montreal restaurant.
As the menu has hardly changed since the restaurant opened in December 1980, I, like so many, enter usually knowing what I’m going to eat. L’Express veterans — and there are many — all have their favourites. For some it’s the fish soup, for others it’s the grilled salmon or onglet/frites. For me it’s the sorrel soup, the reliable rillettes or, when in season, a simple “artichaut vinaigrette.” My main course is always chosen in accordance with the wine, as the wine list at L’Express is arguably the best in the city. For that we can thank Mario Brossoit, the architect of this 11,000-bottle “carte” (there are two actually, the second with more limited selections) who selects his privately imported wines simply for being, he says, “good, affordable and festive.” Any chef, restaurateur or sommelier who has a great wine list today probably spent a lot of time drinking his or her way through this list. Even visiting wine makers head here to drink their own wines, often sold for less than in their own country, or perhaps a bottle of something rare like a Raveneau, Rayas or Rougeard.
I’ve described L’Express as a restaurant wrapped around a wine list in the past, but that’s wrong; there’s so much more to this establishment than just that. After 35 years, the old-school bistro decor still looks chic, and for that the credit goes to the late Luc Laporte, the architect/ designer behind many of Montreal’s most beautiful and enduring restaurant spaces. Regulars know the best tables are either around palm tree mid-room, or against the south wall under the large mirrors, from where you can watch this movie set of a dining room in full action. And I love the pre-meal rituals at L’Express, the basket of perfect baguette, the eventual appearance of those dreamy cornichons, for some a beer, an apéritif or glass of Gérard Boulay Sancerre. While perusing the menu I always admire the fact that, despite the restaurant’s huge success, prices haven’t skyrocketed.
L’Express’s food has often been described by two words: reliable and consistent — both true and admirable considering this restaurant often serves up to 500 covers a day. In November I dined here one late Monday night, ordered a fish soup and the main course of the day and, for the first time ever, left disappointed. I knew longtime chef Joël Chapoulie had retired after some 30 years in charge of the kitchens, and I feared a worthy replacement had not yet been found. Last year too the restaurant received a tremendous blow when one of the founding partners, Colette Brossoit (sister of Mario), passed away. With so many changes at hand, I worried that L’Express might be in crisis mode. But then came news that chef Jean-François Vachon, a cook who had helmed many excellent kitchens and recently revived the food for the Thursdays empire, would be taking over. I’ve dined here a half-dozen times since, and I’m happy to report this St-Denis landmark is back on track. In fact, the food has never been better. It’s not flashy, it’s not wildly creative, but boy is it ever good.
Start your meal off with the leeks vinaigrette and you’ll be served a spiral of leek ribbons topped with a single olive and enhanced with the perfect dose of mustardy vinaigrette. Opt for the rillettes and you’ll enjoy the ideally seasoned and textured pork meat mixed with just the right amount of unctuous fat. The sorrel soup is as bracingly bitter and lemony as ever, and the fish soup is lush and deeply flavoured. Vachon’s famous onion soup is now on the menu and though I wish it were topped with just that much more gruyère des grottes, it satisfies nonetheless. The chèvre chaud remains a good bet as the salad seems less wilted and commercial than I remember (sad salad as well as stale croutons were always a former failing of this kitchen). At lunchtime — or any time — the rich croque monsieur and textbook quiche are always a treat.
I’m told that the onglet/frites is by far the best-selling dish, and I have never judged that slightly chewy but full-flavoured steak to be anything but delicious. But the fries weren’t always up to par on this plate and now they are: hot, crisp and golden … superb! And I like them even better when served with the back-on-the-menu homemade
Toulouse sausages. Yum!
The best deal on the menu is probably the quail with peas, wild rice and endive, a dish that always comes through and for a reasonable $24. And the liver remains a go-to main course when I’m feeling the need for an influx of iron. I also enjoyed several daily specials of late including duck macaroni filled with peas and confit, a luscious risotto made with radicchio topped with arugula and Parmesan shards, and an appetizer consisting of a fried duck egg paired with nuggets of foie gras and sautéed oyster mushrooms. All terrific.
For dessert (perhaps paired with a snifter of Poire Williams, Vieille Prune or aged rum?), I would highly recommend the caramelized apple tart topped with vanilla bean ice cream, the maple profiteroles, the apple and blueberry crumble, or the simple chocolate tart. I know everyone loves the île flottante but I find it’s the only dish at L’Express I consider “de trop.” And I wish the lemon tart could lose its apricot glaze topping to make it more of a restaurant dessert than coffeeshop pastry. Or you could always do what my friend Guillaume does and finish up with the three simple chocolate truffles. Voila!
I’ve always felt that, along with Arthur Quentin, L’Express is one of the two major jewels in the crown of St-Denis St., a grand Montreal shopping and noshing destination that has withered of late under the strain of endless construction. But I would march right over those cones to get to a restaurant like this.
A recent list of Canada’s 100 best restaurants was released last March, and the fact that L’Express wasn’t included discredited the entire operation for me, but also had me thinking that maybe we take L’Express for granted, no doubt a consequence of its long and reliable existence. Busier, noisier and miles more chic than most, what is often dismissed as just a very correct French bistro is clearly above the fray. Nobody understands customer service quite like L’Express. And, as Carly Simon sings in the song we all know, nobody does it better.