Brad's Montreal Odyssey -- Day 5

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

Sunday was tourist day. I had an extensive self-guided walking tour of Old Montreal from a guidebook lined up. That required a real lunch.
So after cafe au lait at Brulerie St. Denis, I returned to L'Express - mainly because it's right down the street from the Brulerie - for a lunch of oeufs mayonnaise, soupe de poisson and a Lyonnaise salad.
The oeufs, hard-boiled, came in a tarragon-scented mayo and were luscious; I sopped up the mayo with some bread. The soupe de poisson had an intense fish flavor, with really good crackers that you cover with a garlic aioli and float in the soup; as the cracker absorbs the soup, its flavor becomes distinct from any of the three ingredients by themselves. The salad was typical of its kind, though the lardons weren't overly bacon-y. Good light dressing though and a perfect poached egg.
Wine was a lovely half-bottle of 2010 Jurancon Sec 'Cuvee Marie' made by Charles and Marie Hours, the kind of white wine that rarely makes it out of France and hardly ever to North America; what a treat that a bistro would have it but as I have said L'Express' wine list boggles the mind. Gorgeous golden color, honeysuckle noise, minerals and a light touch of sweet fruit on the palate and a refreshing finish with a tart acidity right at the end. 14 percent alcohol, but incredibly well-balanced. It's mostly Gros Manseng with a touch of a rare, Southwest France-only grape called Petit Courbu that adds sweetness and body to the Manseng. If you see it, drink it with fruit, fish, chicken, pork, cheeses and finfish or shrimp.
The walking tour was thorough, quite enjoyable and rather exhausting. I took 4 1/2 hours on it, stopping for a rest now and then, once for espresso and once for some yummy cider dosed with maple syrup - a big thing here - from a stand in Place Jacques Cartier. The tour took me past a legendary French restaurant, Chez Queux, that every foodie reference in Montreal raves about but was totally out of my price range ... but in the window they had posted a three-course menu that would, even with wine, be in my budget with a tweak or two. And since I wear a coat and tie every day when I am on vacation, I was already dressed for dinner, which at this place seemed necessary.
So I made a reservarion and hopped a bus after the walking tour ended - at a 106-year-old tugboat, would you believe - and, well, wow.
Chez Queux is precisely the kind of white-tablecloth, elegant, classy, completely and unreservedly and proudly French cathedral of dining that used to define fine food and is now seemingly going extinct because, we are told, people want "casual dining" and "small plates" and dislike formality and having to dress up beyond sneakers and jeans.
That may all be, but I have never lost my love for such places and the way they can make you feel as if you are the most important person in the world for two hours. It's not every-day dining for any number of reasons, but when you want a Chez Queux you hope they are still around.
What followed was one of the great dining experiences of my life.
For a cocktail, I enjoyed a Beefeater and tonic served with a lemon, and with little pitchers of extra tonic if I wanted. Those are the kind of little touches that make Chez Queux so much fun.
I sat with a view of the St. Lawrence River. An amuse-bouche of lusciously intense salmon mousse was followed by the menu and wine list. The menu offered five or six choices for each course and was not merely the soup/salad, chicken or cheap fish and ice cream or sorbet selection bargain menus can be in some joints, as you will see.
I selected an appetizer of duck foie gras served in 'creme brulee' style and deer steak with foie gras in a pepper sauce.
The wine list was mostly French and quite thorough and impressive. I chose a glass of Chateau Raymond-Lafon Sauternes 2004 for the duck foie and a half-bottle of La Terrasse de La Garde 2010, the second wine of Chateau La Garde, a solid Pessac-Leognan producer in the Graves region south of Bordeaux.
My waiter, Leon, 60-ish, whose English had a pleasant Quebecois French accent, had been the classy and elegant but formally distant waiter that these kind of places have employed for decades. But when I ordered my wine, he asked, politely, 'You like French wine?.
Yes, very much so, I replied.
"Let me get you the other wine list, you might like to see it,' he said.
What arrived was a book of some of the world's finest wines at fair prices. Multiple vintages of all the Bordeaux first growths including Petrus. Classed growths from every Bordeaux commune. White Bordeaux, sweet and dry, of the highest quality. Champagne of the highest class from the best vintages. Alsace Grand Cru, Loire Valley gems, a complete sweep through the Rhone and the greatest collection of white and especially red Burgundy I had ever seen from all the best houses, DRC, Rousseau, Ravenau, Leflaive, Roumier, Jayer, you name it, from all the Grand Crus from Chambetin to Chassange.
What was striking was that almost all of the bottles had years of age on them, and at prices that, while way too high for me, were exceedingly fair. Assuming you can find any Rousseau 2002 Ruchottes-Chambertin around, and good luck with that, you're going to pay a lot more than the $220 Chez Queux was getting.
I was speechless. I pored over the list for a long time.
Then the food. The duck was a silky mousse under a salt/sweet crust of butter and sugar with a velvety texture, a hint of liver, and all that
foie richness that got better with every taste. It came with light, airy crisps of good bread, housemade port jelly and a few eggs of caviar, all of which, especially the jelly, complemented the foie.
The wine did too; with nine years of age the sweetness had become complex, with a classic Sauternes nose, caramel and roasted honey on the palate, even more complex fruit later and then a firm finish with plenty of acidity to support the sweetness. Raymond-Lafon has always been a favorite of mine and this was terrific, I drank half and set it aside to finish with dessert.
The Bordeaux had been decanted and was served with my main, a hefty slab of grilled Bambi cooked to precisely my order - as rare as the Chef thinks it should be - and covered with two huge slabs of duck foie gras. A nice vegetable array, including roasted baby bok choy, and a square of pommes dauphinoise too.
At this point I noticed the assistant filling my water glass with Canadian bottled Eska and I said to him I hadn't ordered bottled water. Leon, nearby, said, "Monsieur, we serve only bottled water; it is like your bread, it comes with your dinner.' Well then.
The main was perfection all around. The potatoes, rich and amazingly tasty yet light and tender on the tongue. The veggies, cooked as well as my friend Bernard used to do in Chicago at the much-lamented Chez Bernard, a very high compliment from me. The foie, lightly seared and rich and gamey. The sauce, again rich but light, adding flavor but not smothering the meat, which came with a firm crust, tender, spicy, rich and flavor that lingered after each bite.
The Bordeaux was young and tender too, full of fruit and Graves earth and cassis and leather at the finish. It went splendidly with the meal and was ready to drink, thought it has a few more years left; say 2016?
With my plate cleared, Leon said more asked, 'You want some cheese, I give you some cheese,' and almost before I could say yes slabs of three Quebecois cheeses - a Comte-like cheese, a Brie sort of thing that was as good as any Brie I have ever had and fresh, rolled in ash goat cheese - arrived with walnuts and a fruit compote. Leon then said, 'Something to drink with the cheese,' and appeared with a bottle of Sandeman Vintage Port 1997 and poured me a hefty slug of this racy, fruity, intensely sweet and alcoholic Port, a pleasure if not quite my preferred style.
I went to the men's room, and returned to find my Sauternes glass topped off, indeed completely refilled and then some - "I gave you a little more,' Leon said with a wicked smile - and an orange-flavored creme brulee, not too sweet, with candied orange peel and a grown-up vanilla wafer that melted in your mouth. Sheer elegance.
Then came perfect espresso, which was included in the meal, and a glass of Boulard's wonderfully appley, not hot at all, why-don't-we-drink-more-of-this Calvados to finish. I should note that in Montreal Calva is tossed back by bar workers and the like the way Jameson is in Philadelphia. I know which I prefer.
The bill came, and while not small, it was affordable - and the cheese, Port, extra Sauternes and Calvados did not appear on it.
I expressed my deepest thanks to Leon, left a huge tip, and departed enriched in body and soul.
Unreservedly recommended for those who can manage to eat with a tie on and love the old style. Ask for Leon.
I then went to a string quartet concert that was intense and heavenly and stopped by L'Express for a nightcap of Poire Williams des Monts de Cote d'Or eau de vie from Joseph Cartron, a Burgundian spirit of 49 percent alcohol with an intense pear flavor and a searing finish, but balance and class all the way; one of the best of its type I have ever had, and I didn't know they grew pears on the Cote d'Or. Now I do.
As a fine a day as I have in a long time. How do people not take vacations?

L'Express, 3929 Rue Saint-Denis, Montreal H2W 2M4; 514-845-5333. Open from 8 a.m. until at least 2 a.m.

Chez Queux, 158 Rue St. Paul Est, Montreal H2Y 1G6; 514-866-5194; open Tuesday through Sunday for dinner at 5 p.m.

Next P&P Tasting: Bargains of Bordeaux

Join us on Thursday, 2 May 2013  at 7:30 p.m., at the club, 1522 Latimer St. in Philadelphia as we taste four wines from Bordeaux that can fairly be called bargains from a region not well known for value.  

But as we will see, it''s not necessary to pay stratospheric prices to enjoy the distinctive and memorable flavors of my single favorite wine region in the world. 

Cost is $30 and includes appetizers. Sign up at the club or call (215) 731-9909.

A favorites tasting

We did something a little unusual at the Pen & Pencil Club 3 May when I presented a tasting of favorites to a private group. (I should note that I stand available and ready for private wine events, tastings, consultations, and the like: contact me at the email address here on the blog.)

The same format as usual, four wines, food to match. But there wasn’t a theme other than wines I like and want to tell others about. The group had a great time and fun was had by all.

We did two whites, a sparkler and a red. Tasting notes follow:

2006 Touraine Sauvignon La Potine Domaine Ricard
Never in any tasting will I ever have a better match of wine and cheese. This Sauvignon is Blanc, of course, from the middle Loire near the town of Cher, along the “steep, calcereous” slopes (to quote the Moore Bros. tasting notes). The goat cheese we served was Selles-sur-Cher, made, you guessed it, near the town of Cher. Who knows, maybe the goats nibbled the vineyard leaves, for the match of the cheese, ashy and stiff at first, then creamy and smooth in the mouth, with the tart, quince-y, aromatic, almost exotic, wine was heaven. It will not ever get better than this as a match. The wine was fruity, massive aromatic on the nose, spicy fruit, and, yes, the ‘cat’s pee’ Sauvignon Blanc aroma, grapefruity, lovely acidity but in balance, gooseberries and quinces, tart, delightful, refreshing, served maybe a hair too cold but warmed nicely, soft, mouthfilling finish. Organic, low-yield vineyards. Slam-dunk summer wine. Good with shrimp, poultry, sausages, bean casserole, salmon, oysters (oh yeah), Cornish hens, but most of all good with that goat cheese. These days, $12 for a wine like this from France is an absolute steal. The crowd liked it a lot. Now-2010. **** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2007 O Fournier “Urban Eco” Torrontes
Speaking of exotic, I have been wanting to serve this white from Argentina’s Cafayete Valley in the northwestern province of Salta for a while; here came a good chance. Torrontes is the premier native white grape in Argentina, and if I am only an occasional fan of the country’s rather too aggressive and obvious Malbecs, I do like this grape. Under a screwcap. Not too pale, golden-ish, exotically spicy on the nose, then tons of fruit, soft, gentle, like a tropical Riesling, a hint of sweet, not a whole lot of body but enough acidity. No food served with this one, but would be good with spicy shrimp, well-flavored fish, pork, chicken. Or by itself. Alcohol there at 13.5 but in no way hot. Pears on the long finish. Intriguing wine, wonder what the $25 bottles taste like? This was a bargain at $8 but the crowd was less enthusiastic. Well, it is surely different. Good nominee for the ABC – Anything but Chardonnay – Club. Drink now. *** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2004 St. Hilaire Blanquette de Limoux Extra Dry
Down in the western Languedoc, near the walled city of Carcassonne, they say this is the oldest sparkling wine in the world and they say they have been making it for 450 years, since monks first made it in the 17th century and nyah-nyah you Champenois! The Champagne people have had the last laugh, given how rich they are, but down in Limoux they still make this lovely gem of a sparkler. Despite the name, the St. Hilaire ‘Brut’ is even drier and to my mind a little sharp. This, the somewhat less sharp version, is to me better balanced and surely better with food (they also make a semi-sweet that is rarely seen; that is a dandy brunch wine). Unlike Champagne, this is made with strictly white grapes (Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and the local Mauzac, which can be fiery). Always a classic nose and lovely light golden color, florid mousse, fizzy but not too much so, bready/appley on the palate, vigorous,
refreshing, not bone dry, hint of citrus, a nice contrast to the sweet crabmeat and shrimp cup we served. Excellent value at $11 and it’s cheaper outside of Pennsylvania. Crowd enjoyed it. This could age. Now-2012. ***1/2 (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2005 Chateau Thomas-Laurent Bordeaux
A challenge, because I snapped this one up salivating at the vintage – 2005 may have been the best in Bordeaux since 1982 – and it was going for $11. Now, I was not expecting Latour or Lafite-Rothschild or Petrus at that price, but I was also not expecting that my usual extensive research would turn up absolutely nothing about the wine, other than that the chateau does exist in the hills above Blaye on the right bank of the Gironde. No information on the terroir, cepage, anything. An e-mail in my awful French went unanswered. So, here it was. The basic Bordeaux, I guess, in its standard form – 12 percent alcohol, nicely deep and dark, the kind of everyday wine the Bordelais have been making for centuries and have had trouble selling lately. This kind of Bordeaux is more typical of what is made there than the Grand Crus. Anyway, very thin and disappointing on first taste, but let it in the glass for 30 minutes, or decant, and the magic of Bordeaux appears: plummy, cassis, some leathery aroma. Fruit, a tad thin, on the palate, soft mouthfeel, I am guessing a 50/50 Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot cepage at this point. More air brings out more cassis and leather, and cigar box, cherry, earth on the finish. Maybe some Cabernet Franc here, could have a jolt of Petit Verdot flavor. Nice if not profound, a good quaff, good food wine; the match we had, with pork or chicken stew, was not ideal but the kitchen’s requirements made most other choices impractical. Would be terrific with red meat, esp. with an assertive sauce. Also fine with less grand meat, such as meatloaf. I’d be fascinated with how this would age. Crowd liked it, but not as much as the Sauv Blanc or the sparkler. Now-2013? *** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

Wine in Paris: We have a red 1934, we have a white 1934 ...

The title is a line uttered by the brilliant Graham Stark in a hilarious turn as a supercilious French waiter in Blake Edwards' Victor/Victoria, one of my all-time favorite films (how Robert Preston did not win an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his star turn as an aging, gay cabaret performer I will never know; if you haven't seen the movie, do so now!).

Stark's line comes in response to Julie Andrews' asking for a wine list. And even today in most Paris bistros and less-formal places, his response is not all that far off.

The carte des vins at the kind of places I eat at in Paris lists things like "Beaujolais"; "St. Veran"; "Bordeaux"; "Chiroubles"; "Muscadet" and the like. Vintage? Who cares? Producer? Get serious. Stupid comments that adorn many U.S. wine lists about wine (such as this)? Thankfully, none.

Once in a while the better wines might get a vintage; at one bistro on my February visit I had an enjoyable St. Estephe that Le Patron had deigned to tell his patrons was a 2004.

But generally, no. I should say that: 1) most wine ordered by the bottle will have such info available to you before you order and 2) this obviously does not apply in high-end places with legendary lists.

At first this can be disconcerting, to look at 20 wines available and no vintages given or producers or anything. Just "Chenas". Well, what, who, when? As someone who knows the French vintages and wants to avoid duds such as 2003 Rhones (flabbier than a trailer park after Thanksgiving) the lack of info can be frustrating.

But ... if you're trusting Le Patron to feed you, and you know they take pride in their food, why would you worry that their wines are not up to standard as well? If their steak au poivre is good, why would they serve Le Plonk with it? They're telling you, after all, what they think you need to know: the French AOCs are more than just grape types, they reflect terroir, styles and regional personality.

And many bistro wines are the latest vintage, that simple. Or they're Le Patron's choice of available vintages -- again, do you trust them or not? Given their pricing (low) and their willingness to serve you as little as 7cl of the wine at once (ie, if you're not sure, try some), I trust them. And often that trust is rewarded by a cuvee made just for the bistros (as the Beaujolais crus are at Le Duc de Richelieu near the Gare de Lyon, a subject of a future post of its own) which can be amazing values and special treats.

Given that these wines are almost all AOC -- and they are careful to point out the Vin du Pays on the lists -- you know there IS vintage, that's it's not some non-vintage horror. And these are not Chambertins and Pauillacs where producer and vintage are critical -- they are wines meant to be consumed fresh and young.

So don't be put off by the simple listings. Explore and enjoy!

1996 Champagnes -- don't miss, right now!

1996 vintage Champagnes are getting hard to find in the stores. (For those of you lucky enough to have laid down a case or two of this vintage, and still have it, I am: 1) insanely jealous; 2) willing to be your dinner guest at any time; 3) making plans to raid your wine cellar).

However, as a recent experience showed me, a little hunting and they can be found, especially in bigger cities or in auction.

I cannot recommend enough making the effort to hunt down some of this vintage. Never has wine-searching time been better spent.

And there's no need to seek out Dom or Sir Winston Churchill 1996s, either (though both would be blockbusters as well as wallet-busters). 1996 is such a dazzling vintage, full of structure, heft and an amazing citrusy mouth-filling flavor that the non-luxury cuvees offer luxury-cuvee experiences at less than half the cost.

Having had several of the '96's -- including the lovely Billecart-Salmon Blanc de Blanc, pictured, as I was reminded by a commenter -- I can categorically say this is the greatest vintage of any single wine area I have ever tasted. I don't know enough 1982 Bordeauxs to comment about them specifically but I would make that comparison: big, bold, gorgeous wines that age for years.

Now: when to drink? The luxury cuvees have 10 more years, almost certainly, but would be spectacular now. But after a ravishingly luxurious, almost decadent '96 Laurent-Perrier Brut Millesme passed my lips this weekend, I would say that the basic Pols and Veuves -- if not Krug -- are ready to drink now.

In other words, for $60-$80 and some patience, you can enjoy one of the all-time best vintages of one of the world's classic vintages at its peak RIGHT NOW. What are you waiting for? Go get some.

Recommendations, you say? I should say right away that my ideal Champagne and my fallback favorite for any occasion is Pol Roger. I adore its combinaton of lightness and freshness with structure and character, and it refreshes as few other wines can. Pol equals class. If Pol's not about, Veuve is a good, solid, middle-of-the-road choice. L-P and Tattinger are lighter but in '96 still very substantial. Lanson is always dependable.

But almost anybody made great wines that year, and smaller produces such as Jose Michel, Diebolt-Vallois and Henri Mandois made gems worth seeking out.

Have a spring wedding, graduation, or other such celebration coming up? These wines will make it memorable. But don't save Champagne just for celebrations, especially the '96s -- great food wines and marvelous aperitifs for any occasion.

And they're at their best now. Good luck on the hunt.

The beauties of the off-vintages

As Bordeaux prices sail into the stratosphere for top vintages -- a D. Sokolin New York Times ad today listed a bottle (one bottle) of 2003 Ausone for $1,499 (!) -- these great wines become more and more inaccessible for the average wine fan. This is a terrible tragedy, really, because these are the finest red wines in the world on a consistent basis -- as good as great Burgundy can be the inconsistency factor there, especially at $100-plus a bottle, can be supremely disappointing.

So can non-Rockefeller wine fans bid great Bordeaux adieu? Not at all.

The same NYT food section had an ad for 2004 Bordeaux from Zachy's. 2004 is a classic "tweener" vintage -- between the deep-baked grapes of the 2003 heatwave that make, apparently, massive fruit-bomb type reds and the 2005s that everyone is having orgasms over (I must say that the 2005s from Beaujolais are dazzling, so maybe the vintage was great all over France).

People with more money than sense will fling their dollars after 2003s and 2005s -- forgetting the perfectly good 2004s. And the prices in the ad reflect this - classed-growth Pauillac under $28, Grand-Puy Lacoste under $40, Cos d'Estournel at $85, Leoville Les Cases at $90. This is Zachy's too, which is not known for low prices (indeed the opposite).

Believe me, the 2004s at those prices will give immense pleasure.

As an example of what pleasures non-marquee vintages can bring, I drank my last bottle of the 1997s the other day, from Calon-Segur (St. Estephe), one of my very favorite properties, with a roast beef, roasted veggies, Yorkshire Pudding dinner. It could not have been better -- an exotic aroma; rich and racy on first taste, with heady eucalyptus scents roaring up to the nose. Then came light cassis, leather, tobacco, followed by a refreshing finish with a touch of that eucalyptus flavor. Spectacular -- and 1997 was considered a very shaky vintage. (Having said that, it's time to drink up the 97s; a Lafon-Rochet I had in December was sturdily good at first but faded as the night went on.)

In short: skip the overpriced 2000, 2003 and 2005 vintages and go for the off-vintages: there are treasures out there.