Toronto’s food scene has come a long way in the last few years. But we could stand to learn a few things from, shall we say, more established cities.
On a recent trip to Paris, I was met with mind-blowing baked goods, the most superbly stinky cheeses and a selection of wines that reinforced just how limited (read: ass backwards) the LCBO really is. More than that, I was immersed in a culture that treats the dining experience very differently.
I know Toronto will never be Paris – and that’s a good thing, we need our own unique culinary identity – but there are a few lessons from the City of Lights that local restaurateurs could take to heart .
1. Do not… I repeat DO NOT clear drink glasses before guests are finished
One of Toronto servers’ most infuriating habits is to – without warning – steal away your wine or cocktail glass with a few good gulps left. I’ve had as much as a third of a drink snatched away before I could protest. Do they not notice? Are they trying to turn the table? Either way, it’s bad customer service and happens way too often.
In Paris, this does not happen. Ever. No matter the class of restaurant or how busy it is, servers let your wine glass linger on your table for however long it takes you to drain that miniscule last sip.
2. Shared plates shouldn’t mean everyone goes home hungry
Local restaurants seem enamoured with the sharing trend. However, instead of a satisfying communal dining experience, this all too often means ridiculously high prices for small plates of food that barely feed one, let alone two or three people. Inevitably, everyone spends way too much money and picks up a slice of pizza on the way home.
I expected portion sizes to be even smaller in Paris, but the opposite is true. At Les Papilles, a classic bistro near the Luxembourg Gardens, every course is made to share. My partner and I began with a pea gazpacho that arrived in what was almost a cauldron, followed by an entire pan of succulent slow-cooked lamb. They nearly had to roll us out of the restaurant.
At Astier in the 11ème arrondissement, the cheese course is a magnificently mammoth board of about 20 cheeses that’s left at your table, allowing you to take as much as you please. When you’re greener than the blue cheese, and only then, do they whisk it away to the next table of eager customers. Oh, and they follow this up with a Grand Marnier soufflé for two the size of a small birthday cake.
No matter where we went in Paris, we never went home hungry.
Communal cheese plate at Astier
3. Dessert shouldn’t be an afterthought
I can’t remember the last time I ate a truly great dessert in Toronto – the type that makes you audibly moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head upon first taste. At first, I thought maybe I’d outgrown my sweet tooth. But then I realized many North American restaurants actually don’t want you to order dessert. It’s not a very profitable course, and slows down table turnover.
In Paris, not only do they expect you to order dessert, they put serious time and care into perfecting the course. At new surely soon-to-be-Michelin-starred hotspot Hexagone, the wild strawberries with vanilla soft cream, lime jelly and cheese cake sorbet had me wondering what the little red monstrosities they serve in Toronto and call “strawberries” actually are.
You go to Top Chef contestant Thibault Sombardier’s seafood restaurant Antoine (one Michelin Star) for the best fish of your life, but stay because of the desserts. From a tartare of fresh peaches to an artfully layered tower of chocolate and mango sorbet, I was pleasantly surprised to find the best desserts of my entire trip in a kitchen known for fish Bouillabaisse and roasted lobster.
4. Focus less on turning over tables, more on customer experience
I’m not sure why Toronto restaurants think warning guests they only have (insert designated amount of time here) to eat is a great way to welcome people to a meal. Even if there isn’t a set time limit on your dining experience, linger too long and you often notice a change in attitude from servers eager to fill your spot with fresh wallets.
Rushing customers through a meal is not something that happens in Paris. At the most extreme and luxurious end of the scale, the Shangri-La Paris’ Michelin-starred L’Abeille only seats 40 guests for an entire dinner service from 7:30 to 10:30 pm. This means your table is yours for the entire evening. Show up when you want and be assured that, even if you leave early, they won’t turn the table.
This sort of civilized attitude isn’t just something you see in Paris’s high-end restaurants. Many casual bistros, like the aforementioned Les Papilles, only take reservations for two services each evening so guests won’t be rushed. A meal is expected to be an experience, not an occasion to stuff one’s face and bolt.
Five of 40 seats at the Shangri-La’s intimate L’Abeille
5. Put a bit more thought into the décor
With the exception of Bar Raval and a few other joints, Toronto restaurants tend to all look a lot alike – and not in a good way. There just simply aren’t a lot of unique visual experiences to be found while chowing down in this city.
Parisians take a bit more pride in perfecting the ambience of their restaurants. One of the most breathtaking displays of this can be seen at the Four Seasons Paris’ Marble Courtyard, an outdoor dining space that only opens for a few months during summer. No expense is spared and strings upon strings of picture-perfect Vanda orchids arranged by artistic director Jeff Leatham float over diners’ heads.
A more quirky example of great décor can be found at Le Petit Pergolèse, an art gallery and restaurant all in one. The small bistro is so crowded with colourful modern art that you notice something new almost every time you glance around. It was only part way through eating a lobster salad doused with their signature truffle vinaigrette that I realized I was dining next to one of Jeff Koons’ hot pink balloon dogs.
6. Treat vegetables with love
Eating your greens in Toronto can be an…. interesting experience. Too often, they’re a second thought and terribly over/under cooked and over/under seasoned. Burying a bunch of kale in cheese and butter and calling it a salad does not count as great culinary innovation.
Paris is best known for cheese, bread and meat, but the vegetables are on a whole different level. Not only are they usually local and organic, they’re prepared with the same care and thought as a meat or seafood dish.
One of the best things I ate was a plate of asparagus. Yes, white asparagus with blood orange sabayon, organic lard and a hint of citrus at Hexagone. It was also one of the best-looking dishes I had, plated with little purple florals.
Don’t even get me started on the mashed potatoes (Parisians’ starch of choice), always perfectly puréed. I wish I could’ve smuggled some of Le Petit Pergolèse’s truffle-infused offerings or Astier’s impossibly creamy smoked mash back to Canada with me.
Asparagus at Hexagone
sabrinam@nowtoronto.com, @sabrinamaddeaux
