Dare to share

>> L’Atelier’s food, served in appetizer-size
portions, is rich and made with care

by MARK SLUTSKY

I wasn’t sure about the photographs: large black-and-white portraits of the farmers, producers and hawkers of the fine ingredients l’Atelier chefs Patrick Garneau and Benjamin Fortier use to concoct their dishes. The pictures, taken from a high angle, seem dangerously close to the kind of terribly wacky, fisheye-lens photography you see so much in advertising these days.

Located north of Fairmount on St-Laurent, l’Atelier occupies a large dining room furnished in unfinished wood and earthy tones. One wall is decorated with an assemblage of logs and branches, sliced width-wise, providing an eye-pleasing collage of circles. And of course, there are the photos at the back, which I found myself actually warming to: as my dining companion pointed out, they do soften the space and give the restaurant a comfortable lightness.

They also remind you of the important stuff: the food. Sharing is the main thing at l’Atelier. Though it’s not a tapas joint, really, the restaurant subscribes to the small-plate trend that’s so popular these days (fine by me). The menu largely consists of appetizer-sized plates meant to be consumed among your dining companions (the waiter suggested ordering two or three each). Most dishes were inventive and creatively prepared, all of them were made with excellent ingredients, some of them were superb, while others over-reached a bit for my tastes.

We started our meal, at the waiter’s suggestion—a little cheeky, as he hadn’t even laid out the menus or mentioned the price—with a half-dozen New Brunswick oysters ($18). They were delicious—especially the St-Simone, served with a balsamic vinaigrette—and a refreshing way to start the meal. After we had ordered our proper dishes, the kitchen served up a complimentary little offering in the form of a light, delicious couscous. Full of tasty black olives and punctuated with a single round slice of chorizo, this was one of the best things we ate all night.

We followed that with the restaurant’s homemade charcuterie plate ($9), which included a selection of three meats: duck breast, veal tongue and duck rillette. I liked the fatty duck, and the veal was smooth and tender. In the centre of all this meatiness was a crispy asparagus and bean salad.

That was brought to us at the same time as their homemade gravlax plate ($12), served with an endive, and a Granny Smith apple and potato salad. The gravlax was fine but nothing special; maybe it got drowned out in the other competing flavours.

However, the rabbit ravioli ($12), topped with shavings of black truffle and served in a savoury broth, was delicious. As was the veal cheek ($14), served with eggplant and tomato; it was one of the tastiest plates we tried. The meat was soft and tender, as a good cheek should be. We were less impressed by the deer medallion and shrimp combination ($15)—call it cerf and surf. Served with a dark, sweet sauce, it was a little too rich for my tastes. Or maybe there was just too much going on; I think I spotted some bits of chorizo in there as well. It was one of several dishes on the menu that combined seafood and meat, and not the most successful. The waiter almost forgot our last dish, and thankfully he didn’t, because the tuna and bison tataki ($15), another sea/land combo, flavoured with soy and sesame, was a treat. The fish in particular was fresh, red and flavourful.

Not everything blew us away at l’Atelier, though the strong notes the restaurant hit were memorable. Despite a couple of questionable flavour choices, the food is fresh and made with care. One thing to keep in mind is that the dishes, though meant to be ordered in multiples and shared, are quite generous, some even approaching the size of a regular main course, and you’d be better off ordering conservatively.