The Perfect Ingredients

Montreal's Restaurant Julien knows the recipe to fine dining success

Story and photos by Benjamin Pomerance

Start with a traditional Parisian cafe, chic and magnifique, awash from table to table in grace and charm. Now, add a few tablespoons of "hip", strained of any garishness or overly trendy sensation but with just enough zest to keep the flavor fresh. Mix in a healthy cup of elegance, a product not so ripe that it stinks, but not so underdeveloped as to be bitter, either. Sprinkle it with artistry, an appropriately light garnish of tree-lined courtyards, cosmopolitan decor, and plates of food that look like they belong in the Louvre, and throw in a pinch of spice to liven the whole thing up -- but not too much. Finally, use the secret ingredient -- the one you've been sworn never to reveal, the one that makes everything taste just right -- to top it all off. Combine all items together, at one place and one time, and stir.

The result? Montreal's Restaurant Julien, one of those rare places that can whisk you off to dine in Paris for the evening and send you home with the realization that you've had a meal just as good any Seine-side cafe could offer you. Check off the ingredients one by one. Want tradition? The entire place is modeled after the classic Paris style, a dining genre so recognizable that you'll start listening for accordion music and looking for Impressionist painters as soon as you walk in the front door. Want modern? They have it here, from a light and airy design to some tables offering sofa-esque seating to culinary concoctions created from combinations you'd never previously imagine -- but now will always remember. Want classy? Absolutely. Every nook and cranny of the place speaks of upper-echelon elegance...but not so much formality that you lose you appetite while trying to figure out which knife to use first. Want artistry? Restaurant Julien's private courtyard with trees, flowers and fountain might be one of the prettiest warm-weather dining spots in Montreal, the large windows and muted colors provide a sense of security for indoor diners, and the chef's creations often do come out of the kitchen looking like they belong next to the Mona Lisa. Want a little spice with your meal? If the creative presentations and unique arrangements of the food don’t get your juices flowing, the always-lively urban atmosphere certainly will.

Then, there's also that secret ingredient; the one you can't disclose but so desperately need. Restaurant Julien also has that special something about the place that you just can't put your finger on. One can't truly understand this restaurant without that final...something...to top it off, yet fully describing it in words remains an impossibility. The only way, it seems, to shed any light at all on this mysterious finishing touch is to go there yourself.

So I did. Along with my parents, we trekked across the border one wintry Tuesday eve to try and determine the secret to Restaurant Julien's success. Arriving around 5:30, we were greeted with the usual warm welcome from Marc-Antoine, the restaurant's longtime maître d'hôtel, a man always professionally poised yet still amiably sociable. Perhaps we had discovered the secret ingredient before even placing our order: the always kind, always attentive, always accommodating character of Restaurant Julien's waitstaff.

No. Too easy. While the service at Restaurant Julien is always of the highest quality, other restaurants also pride themselves on providing a first-class experience for their diners. The hidden quality, I realized, must be something more subtle than that, something not easily seen but vitally important to this establishment's success. So, as our family settled in for an evening of gastronomic delight, I vowed to myself to keep my eyes peeled for this elusive final link in the culinary chain. 

Of course, detective work is always more enjoyable when good food is involved -- and that night, there was more than enough to go around. The chefs at Restaurant Julien pride themselves on using regional ingredients whenever possible and work to create traditional French cuisine prepared in innovative ways. Aside from the extensive list of a la carte selections, a "table d'hôte"--a three-course tasting menu--is also offered with the weekly specials of the house, and it was from this list of choices that we did most of our ordering on this particular night. We began with piping hot vegetable soup, featuring the kind of long white beans that are favorites of fans of French cassoulet, and garnished with a little bit of bacon. Even better than the soup, however, was the basket of freshly-baked bread that materialized on our table. My personal favorite selection was a firmly crusted olive bread, the taste of green olives mingling nicely with the still-warm bread around it. Perhaps this was the secret ingredient, the wide selection of bread, a much greater array than many restaurants offer? No. Again, I realized, while many restaurants don't offer such a great variety, some do, proving that this could not be the secret. The search would have to go on. 

We deviated slightly from the traditional table d'hôte to order two additional appetizers to share at our table, a "sacrifice" that I chalked up to necessity in my search to find the restaurant's special finishing touch. First came red tuna tartare, arranged neatly in a vertical column and accompanied by crispy rice with wasabi mayonnaise. One bite was enough to convince me that this was some of the best-quality tuna I have ever had the privilege to enjoy. Brimming with natural flavor but not so undercooked as to be chewy, this was tuna perfection indeed. For people like who tend to shy away from wasabi, a strong-tasting cousin of horseradish, the wasabi mayonnaise was a pleasant surprise. Instead of the mouth-on-fire quality that often comes with a taste of this typical sushi accompaniment, this wasabi was mixed in a way that was tasty, with just a hint of the fireworks but thankfully not so much as to turn your mouth into a fire pit.

Our second shared appetizer was a bowl of oxtail ravioli, served in a deliciously hot miso broth. Often, I find generic ravioli dishes to be disappointing -- too much doughy pasta, too little taste of lobster, shrimp, or whatever else is supposed to be stuffed inside, yet this was not your average ravioli. Instead, the pasta shell was paper-thin, enough to provide a cooked storage place for the oxtail but not enough to overwhelm the delectable taste of the perfectly cooked meat. Then, the broth, flavorful enough to almost be considered a consume, made this an absolutely ideal dish. Surely, these exemplified Restaurant Julien's secret ingredient: appetizers that wowed the eyes as well as the taste buds. Still, I reminded myself that as good as these starters were; I had also enjoyed very nice appetizers elsewhere. No -- the secret ingredient still had not been found.

Then, the main dishes arrived. One whiff of the aromas arising from these plates convinced me that this was the missing link I was looking for. As beautiful as they smelled and as attractive as they looked, the taste of these entrees was even better. My mother's meal of Alaskan black cod was sensational, the fish perfectly cooked and enhanced nicely by a white wine sauce. A side of ratatouille -- a traditional French country dish made from eggplant and a variety of other ingredients depending on the chef's inspiration -- and couscous, a rice-like grain, joined the cod on the artistically arranged plate. Instead of being served separately, the two sides were presented together, one on top of the other, the bland flavor of the couscous mixing with the strong taste of the ratatouille for the benefit of both foods.

My father's main course was pork but unlike any pork I have ever tried before. Lightly glazed with molasses and served a mixture of green cabbage and bacon, this was the perfect cold-weather dish from the flavorful white meat to the hearty accompaniments with it. As for me, lamb was my selection for a plat principal. The meat slowly simmered to fall-off-the-bone tenderness and served with a circular cake of thinly sliced potatoes and cheese. A rich juniper berry sauce was drizzled over the lamb bringing out the many flavors in the meat that lamb lovers like me adore. With three plates like these, the choice seemed clear. Inventive and delectable main courses, I decided, must be the secret ingredient. Then, the old echo resounded in my mind: these entrees were very, very good, but I had eaten very, very good main dishes of a different character at other nice restaurants. My quest still had not ended.

I had one last chance to find the secret ingredient: selecting one of Restaurant Julien's decadent desserts. After much deliberation, we decided we still had room to share one final course among the three of us, and what a sweet ending it was. Billed on the menu as a "chocolate marquise", this flourless dark chocolate torte was, like everything else on the bill of fare, simply wonderful; a chocolate lover's dream come true. Sweet but not too sweet, rich but not too rich, the marquise made us all feel like barons, royalty for the evening. For a moment, I hesitated, ready to list Julien's deserts as the secret ingredient to their success, yet even with a desert as good as this, I could come up with other eateries where I had enjoyed similarly luscious deserts. Nevertheless, the chocolate marquise was the perfect finale to a grand night of dining.

We left Restaurant Julien that night with full tummies and taste buds singing their praises, the typical reaction after a meal at one of Montreal's finest spots for fine dining. Still, as satisfied as I was, I couldn't help wondering why I had been unable to find Julien's the secret ingredient, the special flourish of their success. Then, as I was walking out the door into the snow-filled night, it hit me. Every restaurant has their own secret, their own special touch, their one single flavor of "unique". Restaurant Julien does not. Instead, they have several, a whole combination of creative flavors, tastes and touches joining forces to create a dining experience that truly is like no other. Taken by themselves, these elements may indeed resemble equivalent parts of other meals at other places. Put them all together, however; and you can only get Restaurant Julien, a place where everything truly comes from the perfect ingredients.

Have you ever eaten at Restaurant Julien?