Freedom pizza

>> Les Cuisines du Tibet Libre serves
a vegetarian slice of Italy with a
side of Chinese occupation

by GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Tibet? Is it a) human rights offences perpetrated by China, b) the Dalai Lama, or c) authentic, delicious, and vegetarian-vegan flat crust pizza made in Montreal? If you chose c), you’re clearly familiar with the odd little gem known as Les Cuisines du Tibet Libre.

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of visiting this purveyor of excellent pizza, which doubles as a bastion of political and community activism, allow me to introduce you to its incongruous charms. Tibet Libre is Little Italy’s secret haven for vegetarian pizza-lovers.

With its bright orange walls featuring photographs of protests against the Chinese occupation of Tibet and its community centre vibe, you might expect to be served lentil loaf and tea made with the roots of weeds, but Tibet Libre’s menu will surprise you.

On a recent visit, a friend and I ordered the avocado salad and antipasto plate to start, followed by two small pizzas: a bianca ($5.50, garlic, fresh rosemary, olive oil, fleur de sel) and a small quattro stagioni ($12), the way to taste four pizzas in one—primavera (mozzarella, boconcini, basil, arugula, shaved parmesan), peperonata (mozzarella, red pepper, marinated and grilled eggplant, goat cheese and pepper), forestiera (mozzarella, spinach, mushrooms, olives and feta) and boscaiola (boconcini, goat cheese, wild mushrooms and arugula).

As we waited for our food, I wandered over to the affable chef and founder of the venture, Birce Morelli, and struck up a conversation as she worked the dough for our bianca. An artist by trade, she came to Quebec from Lake Como, Italy, in 1984. Morelli’s friends had been raving about her pizzas and suggesting she open a pizzeria for years when, two-and-a-half years ago, this space came on the market and she jumped at the chance to combine her pizza-making gifts with her desire to make the world a better place.

The avocado salad ($6) involved slim wedges of the buttery green fruit with thinly sliced red onion, bits of orange and pine nuts, all drizzled in olive oil. I love the combination of ingredients, but there was far too much red onion, which I mostly shoved to the side. The diminutive antipasto plate consisted of small black marinated olives, silky, delicate house-marinated red peppers, a few arugula leaves and some incredibly creamy and delectable goat cheese.

The bianca, which paired wonderfully with the antipasto, was gorgeous in its simplicity, the crust a perfectly cooked platform for the fresh rosemary, salt sprinkles and drizzle of olive oil. As for quattro stagioni, though it was a little busy, all four quarters got thumbs up, as each ingredient had room to shine. My one complaint: the mozzarella was a tad too chewy in parts.

Purists may balk at some of the more the non-traditional toppings like byriani sauce or seaweed, and the option to veganize by replacing cheese with “soy melt” or sautéed tofu. But I would challenge them to order a Margherita or a bianca (the simpler the pizza, the truer the test of a pizzeria’s mettle). From the thin, crispy, just-right crust (made with organic flour, no less) and the homemade tomato sauce to the super fresh, high-quality toppings used relatively sparingly, this is the real deal. Not into the esoteric toppings? Skip them and stick to the classics.

For a happy ending, we shared the treat of the day: a piece of vegan blueberry cake (moist and yummy, if more healthy-tasting than decadent), accompanied by homemade vanilla ice cream (nice and comforting), blueberry coulis and homemade blueberry chocolate (fresh picked country blueberries dipped in milk chocolate—I’m not a fan, but this seemed like a good specimen of the genre). Not bad, but the dessert’s not what you’re here for. You’re here to help Ms. Morelli make the world a better place, one pizza at a time.