Brad's Montreal Odyssey -- Day 3

The third of the daily blogs, stressing food and drink, from Montreal!

I have never vacationed  in a blasting, full-grade, kick-ass winter storm.
Until Friday.
The manager at the jazz club, Diese Onze, that I was Thursday noted as I left that eight to 10 inches were coming Friday. I didn't pay much attention, it wouldn't storm on my vacation, would it?
It would. And did.
A pelting, heavy, slippery, wet, messy snow, very difficult to walk in.  Howling winds. Thank goodness I had packed my heavy winter coat and a scarf but no gloves.
Slept late again, after Scotches and local Quebecois stout at the jazz club. Headed for a highly-recommended coffee shop just past L'Express, which had been a pleasant walk Wednesday night. Not so in the storm. Yuck. Montreal doesn't much believe in shoveling snow, apparently. A-slippin' and a-slidin' I was in a sleet-ish snow.
But Brulerie St. Denis was worth every snowflake that trickled down my neck. A true coffee heaven for devotees of the bean, this. A huge room filled with beans and baked goods opened into a pleasant seating area. I enjoyed a rich, perfectly-drawn espresso, a perfect, touch-sweet bowl of cafe au lait and a smallish but sweet almond croissant while catching up on blogging and my journal. I couldn't imagine better cafe au lait, which is often thin and too milky, so I had another bowl.
Then, caffeine-fueled, I made probably the day's worst decision. I was determined to get to Fromagerie - cheese store - Hamel, highly recommended by everybody, for cheeses to have in my hotel room. It didn't seem that far from the Jean-Talon metro station.
But -- here's the mistake -- instead of walking south to the Sherbrooke metro I walked north from the Brulerie to the Mont-Royal metro, which seemed just a but further but was in the right direction.
But "a bit" further on a nice day was sheer agony in the teeth of the storm. I did get there, looking like the Yeti, and then at Jean-Talon slogged more blocks to Hamel.
This had better be good.
Good? No. Great? No. The fromagerie of my dreams? Yes.
Nothing against Philadelphia mainstays Claudio's and DiBruno's, but Hamel simply blows them away.
And it's not just because they can sell imported raw-milk cheeses, mostly from France, that the stupid, nanny U.S. Department of Agriculture bans from America - now that's big government to hate!  They do sell those cheeses, though they have less Reblochon, Epoisses, Camembert and  Maroilles than they did Friday.
It's the whole operation - a number system for orderly service, a huge selection of French, Italian, Canadian, English, and American cheeses, sausages, salami, hams, all of sorts; a wall of mustards; mind-blowing bread: a full selection of bottled waters and the like; and a helpful, knowledgeable staff that offers generous tastes of anything you like. The staff will ask you, when you buy St. Marcellin, say, if you mean to enjoy it today; if so, they sell you a ripe one. If it is for later, you get one that needs time. Ditto with other cheeses; the clerk recommended against me buying his Munster because it would not be ready by Wednesday.
And it's all done at reasonable prices - the French cheeses that are available in the U.S., such as Pont L'Eveque, were cheaper here.
Now weighted down by a heavy sac of cheese, I went into the adjacent Marche Jean-Talon, one Montreal's several - really - versions of the Reading Terminal Market.
I was much more tired than I thought I was so I just gave it a cursory glance. I will be back, but I saw some awesomely marbled pork, brilliantly fresh fish and all kinds of ciders, cheeses, spices and produce. I want to go when not exhausted and soaked.
The trip back to the hotel was sheer misery, with the gutters flooded with water and slush, the sidewalks extremely slippery and the wind blasting snow in your face. I didn't fall, but my feet were soaked and I was drenched to the skin.
After drying out at my hotel and a lunch of baguette, spicy mustard, Badoit sparkling water and Louis d'Or, a Tomme-esque cheese from Quebec and lusciously nutty, I read for a bit and then headed out.
I was heading to break one of my oldest rules - don't eat at a jazz club. In New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Toronto, Antwerp, and Paris, this has consistently proven to be a terrible idea.
But Gary Tremblay, the manager at Diese Onze just north of the Brulerie, had talked me into coming for dinner. I wanted to see the band - the Matt Herskowitz Trio, Herskowitz is a pianist who combines classical and jazz. And the music was terrific, original, respectful of both genres, exciting, and furiously rhythmic. Herskowitz mixed adapations of Bach, Chopin, Beethoven and Gershwin with original compositions including a stunningly beautitful ballad 'Bella's Lament', and the occasional blues.
But you know the music in a quality club - this one is small, downstairs, atmospheric, dark, what I like in jazz clubs, with a reasonable noise level, in a city with perhaps the world's best jazz festival - will be good.
The question would be, how was the food?
The French-inspired menu had a selection of small plates - "appetizers" is what they used to be called - five mains, with additional specials.
The wine list was smallish - this was a small place, after all, with little storage - but had a good selection across France, Italy and the U.S. and there were 10 wines by the glass. The bar was well-stocked with bourbon, rum, gin, cordials and liqueurs but was very short on Scotch and Irish. My aperitif was a well-served Ricard.
I opened with chicken liver mousse whipped with port, which came with warm rounds of bread, a nice touch, and a small salad. The portion was generous. The mousses was light, with a fruit accent from the port but still earthy., It went well with a glass of 2007 Loupiac from Domaine de Noble, which was sweetish more than sweet, a touch of acidity and a really firm, grapey finish.
My main was risotto with mushrooms, topped with sliced parmesan. It was served hot as could be, again a generous portion. It needed some fresh black pepper to come alive, but there were a nice mix of mushrooms amid the well-cooked and tasty rice. If not as creamy as some  risottos, this one was deeply flavored and intensely satisfying. The glass of 2010 Coudoulet de Beaucastel Cotes du Rhone that went with it, though, was very disappointing; flat, with little acidity or grip, just  barely enough fruit to maintain interest. A stiff from a prestigious producer. Wine by the glass is always a crapshoot, but I saw a lot of wine being opened, so my guess was that this hadn't sat around very long; it just was not very good.
No dessert, instead I had a couple of pints of St. Ambroise Oatmeal Stout from McAuslan Brewery in Montreal - one fine stout.
Service was well-paced and efficient but since the manager and I had become friendly the evening before and he had reserved me the best seat in the house while pointing me put specially to the bartender, I certainly may have received special treatment.
So guess what? You CAN eat in this jazz club, and the music is great. You could dine better, sure, but the convenience of eating where the music is, and the quality of the food, earns Dieze Onze a solid recommendation.
The manager then invited me to join him at a bar near my hotel for a nightcap, which he drove to to spare us a slog through the slush. L'Ile Noire had a fine beer selection, cider on tap and over 140 single-malt Scotches at reasonable prices. I enjoyed a half-dram of Highland Park fifteen-year-old and a couple of pints of Quebec cider. Service was warm and fast. Visiting Scotch hounds, make a beeline here!!!
I got back to my place at 4 a.m. and had a bite of cheese,. Quite a day; I am glad I didn't let the weather snow on my parade!

Brulerie St. Denis, 3967 Rue St. Denis, Montreal H2W 2M4. Open 0700-2200 daily.

Fromagerie Hamel, 220 Rue Jean-Talon Est, Montreal, H2R 1S7. Open 0900-1800 daily, 1900 on Fridays.

Diese Onze, 4415-A 3967 Rue St. Denis, Montreal H2W 2M4. Music nightly. Covers under $10. Open until at least 0200.

L'Ile Noire, 1649 Rue St. Denis, Montreal H2X 3K4. Open daily 1500-0300.

Wine and life: Paris and Philadelphia, what a difference

I would like wine to be as much a part of my life in Philadelphia as it is when I am in Paris.

Now, it's always different on vacation than normal life. More free time, more flexibility, more time to drink.

But even if I was on vacation in Philadelphia, it would not be the same. Not even close.

In Paris, wine is part of the rhythm that makes the city go. It adorns most, if not all, tables in restaurants. It is consumed at zinc bars, at standup bars, at tabacs, and at cafes. Red wine, newspaper, cigarette. Good wine shops pop up on most shopping streets.

One can duck into any of the establishments and get a good glass of red or white for 2-3 euros. A pichet for a couple more euros. At one wonderful bistro in the 1st, Le Rubis (10 rue du Marche-Saint-Honore, Tel: 01 42 61 03 34, Metro: Tuileries) a delightful Champagne can be had for 5.50E. (I spent about 3 hours there on my January visit and watched one elderly lady have a coupe de Champagne before AND after her shopping trip. Bon marche!)

In many places, a small glass of Beaujolais, Cotes du Rhone or Muscadet can be had for 1.60E, such as at the spectacular Le Duc de Richelieu (5 rue Parrot, 12th, Tel: 01 43 43 05 64, Metro: Gare du Lyon), which offers Beaujolais crus made for them at that price! (The Chiroubles is like raspberry in the glass.)

Just try getting that in Philadelphia. Almost nowhere is a decent glass of wine less than $8, and for that one often gets the very basic California varietal or Italian mass-produced plonk. Some bars have glasses of wine for $5-6 but that will get you over-oxidized dreck at best and ... urrrp! ... at worst. Then, of course, any decent bar customer will leave a tip, at least a dollar a glass. So a stroll around Philadelphia fueled by wine will cost ... $35-$40. It would be 1/3 that in Paris, helped hugely by the fact that 20 cents Euro is a good tip and leaving nothing is acceptable.

Of course, much of the cheaper wine comes from the fact that the vineyards of Beaujolais are much closer to Paris than Philadelphia -- but it can't be all that, because local PA and NJ wines often cost dramatically more than imported wines in Philadelphia. The exchange rate makes a difference, too, but, again, U.S. wine is often just as expensive, and Latin American wines, where the dollar goes a long way, are expensive too.

And the wine isn't THAT much cheaper in Paris. The Perrin brothers' acceptable Cotes du Ventoux brand "La Vielle Ferme" sells for $8 a bottle in Philadelphia. I suggest similar wines that Paris bistros and the like sell for 2.50E a glass (or less) are not much cheaper in France. But a glass of "La Vielle Ferme" would be $7 in Philadelphia at best.

Is it that much cheaper to do business in Paris? Evidence would suggest the opposite. I realize stupid Pennsylvania liquor laws are a part of this, but the same general situation exists in other U.S. cities.

What seems to be different is the attitude towards wine. In Paris, wine is regarded as an integral part of the meal. In Philadelphia, it's a profit center for the bar/restaurant. In Paris, drinkers do not subsidize non-drinkers' meal tabs. In Philadelphia, they surely do (if you doubt this, check out BYOB places where food prices are considerably higher than in comparable licensed establishments). In Paris, bartenders and bistro owners don't mind pouring small glasses of wine for customers. In Philadelphia, they do.

I doubt this attitude will ever change -- too much money involved. There is no reason -- none -- why a glass of Beaujolais Villages, from a bottle that sells for $7, should be more than $3.50 except for sheer greed (and since Philadelphia restaurants pay their (tipped) staff about $2.36 an hour and notoriously offer no health benefits there's a lot of greed going on).

Any wait person will tell you drinkers (and smokers, too, but that's another post) spend more and tip better. So shouldn't a restaurant be ENCOURAGING wine consumption? At the very least, shouldn't the people who order just food and tap water at least pay the going rate and not be subsidized by the drinkers? In fact, THEY should subsidize the drinkers, given the differences in their checks and tips! By turning wine into a luxury with the emphasis on short-term profit, Philadelphia restaurateurs are hurting themselves long-term big-time. Meanwhile, in Paris, the bistros bulge with wine drinkers spending generously.

But change is unlikely. Too bad.

I walk by a nice French bistro every day en route to work. I'd love to stop in and have a glass of wine every day, read the paper, have a conversation. But it would cost me $7-$10 to do so, and I wind up paying for part of the teetotaler suburban couple's steak frites. No thanks.

I'll save those occasions for Paris, thank you.