Maple madness

>> The Cabaret du Roy offers an
urban cabane à sucre experience

by GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

Going to a theme restaurant like the Cabaret du Roy in the Old Port for the food is like going to a strip bar for the buffet, or to La Ronde for the beaver tails—the eating part is beside the point. It’s more about the entertainment, the atmosphere, the mini escape from your everyday reality, be it via a lap dance, a roller coaster ride or some fierce medieval jousting.

Perhaps these low expectations made my Cabaret experience more enjoyable than I thought it would be. Throughout the year, this spot serves old timey fare that has roots in 17th-century Nouvelle France (some with dubious names like “meats of the savage people,” part of the nuptial package), encompassing standards like duck confit and poached salmon, with some nods to the new world (deer and maple figure prominently).

The reason for my recent visit: I discovered that they do a cabane à sucre-themed Sunday brunch in March and April and thought it would be a chance to sugar off (yes, in Quebec, sugar can be a verb) without leaving the city. Other than my cousin’s 10th birthday at a Mississauga Chuck E. Cheese in the late ’80s, I have no experience with themed restaurants other than what I’ve seen in the movies—like that scene in the The Cable Guy, with Janeane Garofalo as a disgruntled serving wench—so I was curious.

I’m not sure how rowdy things get at night, but at lunch time, the scene was thankfully mellow, with a man in a ponytail, pirate hat and 16th-century get-up singing a sad Nouvelle France ballad on stage while costumed servers wandered among the crowd of families and groups affecting Old French accents. The place looks like an old log inn, dominated by two wooden ships’ maiden figureheads.

First up: the deer cretons (more like coarsely ground deer, crumbly and bland), served with a tasty fruit ketchup that tasted homemade and some disturbingly soft cornichons, and a small bowl of canned beets. There was also a bread basket with half a rustic seven-cereal loaf (great, if a little dry) and some satisfyingly dense bannock, the Native-style quick-cooking unleavened bread, dotted with dried fruit.

Next came the soupe aux pois (serviceable, if a little underwhelming and not thick enough) and a very dark bowl of fèves au lard gussied up with duck confit, tasting intensely of hyper-reduced molasses sauce. Remembering we still had a whole lot of pork and maple products to go, I made sure not to fill up too much.

The main course consisted of a plate of piggy stuff: sliced maple-glazed ham, strips of thick back bacon and some delicious wild boar sausage. Alongside were some decent fried potatoes, dried out scrambled eggs and some deer pie in a nice and buttery flaky pastry with a filling that was suspiciously similar, in taste and texture, to the deer cretons that came earlier. The only thing missing was the oreilles de criss.

Then it was time for the main event (in my mind, anyway): tire time! We got our coats on and went outside where they’d set up the traditional flat-topped log covered in snow on which they’d poured the maple to create the gorgeous amber-hued blobs of tire, glorious tire, wrapped around popsicle sticks. One bite transported me back to third grade and memories of school trips to cabane à sucres, slush-covered snowsuits and the inevitable sugar crash in the bus on the way back to town.

Back inside, we managed to get through yet more maple treats: small pancakes soaked in maple syrup (ho-hum), a mini-maple pie (store-bought?) and potato doughnuts (starchy and cinnamon-flecked). The craziest part: it’s all-you-can-eat and costs $17.95. We didn’t take them up on that offer, but it’s there if you can handle it. Phew, time to roll home.

The verdict: the food actually fares much better than that of a lot of the more commercial cabane à sucre operations. So if you can’t make it out to the maple farm this year, let the Cabaret du Roy bring the abridged version to you.