by A.J. KINIK

Anyone who takes their road food seriously will tell you that there’s nothing like plunging into the unknown and sniffing out those diners, cafés, barbecue and seafood shacks that make up the prize in this particular treasure hunt. You need sharp senses, of course, but there’s no question that serendipity plays an important part. Above all, you have to be open to whatever presents itself, even if you think you’re looking for something else.

That was the case the other day as we set out across town in a rental car. I’d heard of a magical grill in some godforsaken corner of the city that was just begging for a look-see, but on our way over there we passed a little Haitian casse-croûte in the thick of its lunchtime rush. I made a mental note of it and continued on, but after a few blocks I knew we had to turn back because that was the place. I mean, just the name alone demanded a closer look: Ange & Ricky.

You won’t find any of the trappings of a standard restaurant at Ange & Ricky—no maître d’, no waitstaff, not even any plates. What you will find is authentic Haitian cuisine—honest-to-goodness soul food served by Ange herself in carryout containers to eat on premises or take out. You’ll also find no shortage of character, from the odd assortment of retail items that clutter the store shelves (it doubles as an épicerie), to the bold changeable-letter sign that acts as the menu, to the undeniable charm of Ange & Ricky, the mother and son duo who own and operate the place.

When we walked in, Ange & Ricky was packed with uniformed students who’d ducked in to have some real Haitian cuisine santé instead of your typical teenybopper fare, and a TV perched above the coolers was broadcasting banging hip hop videos across the room. We looked up at the menu and were struck by the list of exotic names. Sure, there were things like poulet, dinde and légumes that were familiar, but the menu gave no clue as to how they might have been prepared, and items like tassot and lambi were a complete mystery to us. So we began to ask Ange some questions. She responded with vivid descriptions, some generous samples and a broad smile.

We ended up choosing two medium-sized platters, consisting of a meat dish, some delicious “dirty rice” with red beans and fried plantains. We added a side of légumes ($2), a stewed combination of carrots, shredded beef and chayote that would have made a tasty meal all on its own (apparently, it often does). The tassot ($6.99) is a beef stew that’s jerked in lime juice before getting cooked to tender perfection with onions and peppers—with its lovely almost vinegary finish, it’s one of those dishes that indicates Southern barbecue’s Caribbean roots. The turkey ($6.49), on the other hand, is cooked quite dry, but unlike your standard failed Thanksgiving bird, here it’s done intentionally. It might not be to everyone’s liking, but there was no question that the turkey had plenty of get-up-and-go and paired well with the rice ’n’ beans and the vegetables. Both plates came with extra sauce—kind of a mild Haitian take on barbecue sauce—with which to dress your meat, and a phenomenal, wickedly spicy cabbage salad that was like a Salvadoran curtido laced with fiery Scotch bonnet peppers. The tassot in particular was a stone-cold winner, but the biggest surprise might have been Ange & Ricky’s amazing homestyle fried chicken ($1.25/piece), which called to mind my grandmother’s, except for a hint of Haitian flair.

By the time we finished our platters, the CEGEP kids had taken off and Ricky had turned off the music videos and slipped on some Hooked on Classics-like muzak. I decided to surprise him 15 minutes after we left—ostensibly to pick up one of Ricky’s signature lemonades—to see if the music had changed. As a canned version of the “Nutcracker Suite” played over the stereo, Ricky paused and told me, “I love this one.” I purchased my lemonade, added a spicy Haitian-style cashew praline to the tab, and started planning my next visit.

THOUGHTS? E-mail misterkinik@yahoo.com

Ange & Ricky
ADDRESS: 195 Jarry E.
PHONE: (514) 385-6094
HOURS: Sun–Wed, 9:30 a.m.–8 p.m,; Thu–Fri, 9:30 a.m.–9 p.m.
BEST FEATURES: Haitian soul food, homemade lemonade with vanilla
ALCOHOL: No
WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Yes
VEGETARIAN FRIENDLY: Not particularly
CREDIT CARDS: No
PRICE: $5–$10 for most of their platters
RATING: *** out of ****