“And the soup tonight is butternut squash…”
Oh please… What is this, 1989? Butternut squash soup? The single most boring and ubiquitous cliché of Canadian restaurants for 30 years!
And the restaurant was doing so well up to that moment. This is a place called L’Ouvrier, on Dundas, between Markham and Palmerston. DIY décor – everything painted white except one of the tables which is red (the key), cement floor, white bucket plastic chairs which are too low for the tables, home-made-looking art (Ziploc baggies full of bits from the reno, attached to the wall), a central bar overshadowed by lights that seem to be classroom models of the atom. And yet… it’s spacious and comfortable and not too loud and the music’s okay if you like Coldplay and the art kind of grows on you and the server seems to knows what’s what. The tap water is decanted into an old Bulleit bourbon bottle, which strikes me as a nice touch.
But butternut squash soup? Oh I see… The kitchen is being ironic. L’Ouvrier means “the working man” and the choice of soup is deliberate – the most mundane workhorse known to frugal chefs, proudly proletarian. Or then again, maybe it’s sensational soup – the apotheosis of butternut squash purées, a potage that will change my view of the dish suddenly and forever. Should I try it, just to make sure? Nope. Let’s move on to printed matters. I don’t ever remember seeing a menu that began with a burger but also offered a six-course tasting menu ($50pp). Unfortunately, you have to book it ahead, so first-time visitors like me can never experience the chefly magic. Never mind, there’s plenty to be going on with.
We start with half a dozen small, smooth, briney oysters from New Brunswick’s St. Simone Bay. They are lovely and don’t need any amelioration so I end up tasting the black pepper mignonette, the horseradish, and the sambal of red pepper, garlic, shallots and sugar all on their own – and very good they are, too. I’d like to take home a jar of that sambal.
The list of starters begins with duck confit croquettes which are salty but delicious – forked duck confit meat, mashed up and fried. Chef (and co-owner) Angus Bennett serves them with crunchy, gently pickled Jerusalem artichokes shaped like little bricks (a brilliant idea), a well-dressed watercress salad and St. John’s chutney. This is not a Newfoundland recipe – it comes from Fergus Henderson’s restaurant in London, England, called St. John – or more precisely from Henderson’s cookbook Nose to Tail Eating (page 192) and is a tangy compote of apples, tomato, shallots and spices. It’s good with the croquettes and it also underlines the philosophical allegiances of Bennett’s kitchen more subtly than the restaurant’s name or the giant photograph of no-nonsense World War Two army cooks on the wall. To further prove his loyalty, Bennett offers a smoked ham hock terrine – rich, salty, glossy as spam but much more delicious, cut into thick slices and served with crostini, a mild picallili relish and a clump of celery hearts and pea shoots – green, earthy flavours that are a perfect counterpoint to the terrine.
Main courses are no disappointment. Ontario farmed rabbits taste like chicken when compared to wild Newfoundland or English animals but L’Ouvrier’s rabbit leg is notably tasty and tender – the best bunny I’ve had in ages. Bennett pairs it with a soft wild mushroom risotto that is quickened with greens and parsnips both roasted and fried as crispy ribbons. He also knows what to do with great big Qualicum Bay scallops, searing them and then surrounding their delicately flavoured, opulently textured personalities with the intensity of chorizo and preserved lemon, a salad of fennel, parsley, tomato and black olives, and a mound of Israeli couscous in a sweetish tomato sauce.
Yes, there’s room for dessert. We share a toblerone mousse that comes in a Mason jar topped with red berry coulis, whipped cream and chocolate chips. The presentation is deliberately blue-collar and so is the idea of taking a candy bar and deconstructing or resurrecting or reconfiguring it in some cute way. Like butternut squash soup, it’s a cliché that has lost any charm it once had. Still, chocolate mousse is easy and can be made well in advance of service. I just think dinner at L’Ouvrier deserves a more interesting epilogue. It’s a pleasant room and the food is good. I’ll be going back.
L’Ouvrier offers brunch on Saturday and Sunday, and dinner every evening except Mondays. Find it at 791 Dundas Street West (at Markham), 416-901-9581. www.louvrier.ca