| Serving the | Ivy in Quebec City, Toronto: October 2006, Gremolata Number 93. |
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    | Quebec City here I come
David Chrystian and I recently embarked on road trip together, driving from Prince Edward Island back to Toronto. Better back that up a bit: first David and I both quit our jobs at Joy Bistro, then we took a trip (with my husband Kerry) out to Prince Edward Island where David and I cooked for my sister Sarah’s wedding. Kerry hit the beaches, David golfed, we all drank heavily and a lovely maritime was had by all. When we returned, I would begin my new job as tournand at Crush Wine Bar under Chef Shaughn Halls and David would take over as Head Chef at Chez Victor in the Hotel St. Germain. I flew to P.E.I. while Kerry and David drove, then Kerry flew home while David and I drove back. (Well, David drove and I just passenged as I have never learned how to drive.) We left P.E.I. around 7:30 am for the first ten hour leg of the journey. We were planning on staying overnight in Quebec City at the Hotel St.Germain in a suite provided gratis for David as the newest chef to join the company.* Once David and I hit Quebec City finding the hotel was easy and the hotel itself was gorgeous. The surroundings were not though; reminiscent of a Quebecois version of Missisauga. On the concierge’s suggestion David and I made dinner reservations at Toast in Old Quebec and headed there in a taxi with the fastest running meter we’d ever encountered. Upon entering Old Quebec I felt like I’d just jumped out of Bill and Ted’s magic phone booth straight into Paris. Tiny cobblestone streets jam-packed with little shops and restaurants, everything so quaint but not forced in a Niagara on the Lake kind of way. We sat on the flower strewn patio at Toast, where the menu had pictures of both the chef and the owner on the inside cover with the most entertaining bio I’ve ever come across.
We relaxed and ordered some wine and an appetizer to share from our server, David Lavoie. A tomato tart with goat cheese on perfect puff pastry arrived topped with toasted walnuts, smoked salt, some tangled kale. “Dead simple and dead on, it’s delicious.” said David. The 2004 Mercurey, Charton et Trebuchet proved to be a perfect pairing with the tart. For his main course David had the lamb navarin, which was really a lamb three ways; braised shank cooked down with the most intense lamb-y bulghur, lamb rack with mustard and parsley-breadcrumb crust and roasted lamb loin. David could have used a strong red but the Mercurey was inoffensive so he stuck with it. I had a plate of lobster, sweetbreads and seared foie gras served on a bed of Jerusalem artichoke and wild mushrooms. Honestly, you don’t even need to taste it to know how good it is, the description alone should do it. In tasting though it ends up being better than you could ever imagine. If I ever find myself on death row I will demand this for my last meal. We asked David Lavoie to let the chef choose a dessert for us to share. Note: the chef wasn’t actually in the kitchen that night, which some people would find unacceptable, but we were pleased to discover. A chef is really only as good as his crew and this chef is obviously extremely good considering what his sous-chef and the rest of the kitchen put out in his absence. Our dessert was a sumac roasted peach perched on that perfect puff pastry topped with house-made tobacco gelato with a tobacco tuile. David Lavoie also surprised us with glasses of a Mistelle de Pommes et Poires which went beautifully with the dessert and was a refreshing change from ice wine: boozier and not as sweet. More surprises came in the form of little tarragon jellies and basil candies made in-house. This restaurant knows how to make you feel special. After that perfect dining experience we headed over to the Hotel Dominion 1912 (owned by Groupe Germain) for Scotch, only I don’t drink Scotch I have never learned to appreciate that puke-y aroma, that David says is peat. Peat that has been puked on. I decided to order a Bailey’s on the rocks, which tasted great but was embarrassing as David kept calling me a Bailey’s nerd referring to those lame commercials where a bunch of metrosexuals and their sexless girlfriends sit around and drink Bailey’s non stop while going into hysterics over some Prada clad dipshit dipping a flaming marshmallow into a highball of the creamy hooch. Drunk and full we headed back to what we now referred to as French Missisauga and our gorgeous suite to pass out and frappe la rue the next day. When we woke up looking like roadkill, we decided to head over to a farmer’s market David Lavoie had told us about where we could buy the mistelle and check out some cheese made by his father who runs Fromagerie de Lavoie. The market was full of the bounty of the harvest. Tables overrun with yellow and red tomatoes, corn, sheafs of woven garlic and basket after basket of apples. First we searched out the makers of the Mistelle and bought a bottle then headed to the cheese booth where we were sadly informed that they’d sold out of all the Lavoie cheeses. We did buy five different kinds and a baguette to share with Kerry when we arrived back in Toronto. The cheese lady also directed us to her friend, Suzie Marquis’ (418-829-2603) booth to sample her homemade jellies and chutneys. I bought some rose petal jelly and apple butter while David bought red pepper jelly, cucumber relish and some apples. We stashed our haul in the overloaded car and headed off for the final eight hour drive to the greatest city in the world, Toronto.
After a grueling drive, we arrived back at chez nous where Kerry helped me unload my things from the car. Then the three of us sat in the dining room reminiscing about the trip while trying different combinations of the Quebec fromages, preserves, Mistelle and Merlot. Le Pizy was very creamy cow’s milk covered in a cloudy mould from Fromagerie la Suisse Normande. I liked it with the rose petal jelly but David and Kerry thought the rose petals were too “Grandma’s underwear drawer”. Le Fleurmier, a soft, surface-ripened cheese went very nicely with the red pepper jelly as did the Le Saint-Coeur-de-Marie which was like butter and very mild. Le Diable aux Vaches and Le Baluchon were both lovely with the apple butter. The Mistelle was born to be sipped with cheese, and it’s a bargain at only $12.00 a bottle, a 375 ml. bottle, but you don’t need a lot you boozehound . It was a fun trip, filled with fine wines and beautiful food made by real people, animals, sunshine and dirt. They all had French accents too, which makes it even more artisanal, n'est-ce pas? *A month previous to this I had been in attendance at the Chez Victor opening and was impressed with the food, although I felt some of it was underseasoned. Executive Chef Alain Labrie and Chef Hans Vogels put out some enticing plates that were matched by equally enticing wines from Sommelier and Manager Mark Moffat. II by IV haven’t changed the décor too drastically, just enough to let you know it’s not Luce anymore. The II by IV guys were surprisingly modest considering how insanely successful they are and showed me around the restaurant before the guests were seated. Once the guests were seated I was lucky enough to share a table with Kelly Rude, contributing editor at Azures magazine. There aren’t that many true bon vivants left in the world but he’s one, we had the most raucous table in the room. I’ll be excited to dine there again once David has changed the menu, I’m hoping I can beg or bribe Kelly to accompany me. ____________________________________________ |  | |
| When not writing about food for eGullet and Gremolata or pillow fighting as 'Vic Payback', Ivy Knight works for a living as a cook in Toronto. READ MORE IVY AT GREMOLATA: Sketch: Ivy visits a unique program for street kids Island Heat: Ivy eats her way through Caribana Sausage Party: Ivy discovers Berkshire pork Fill My Bowl: Ivy attends a gourmet fundraiser Brunch Bites: Ivy does not like brunch Apple of the Earth: Ivy makes potato salad Email Ivy at ladyslenderlegs@gmail.com
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