Posh nosh

Takeout goes upscale at Ian
Perreault Prêts-à-Manger

by GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

Looks-wise, Ian Perreault Prêts-à-Manger has more in common with a W hotel lobby than most takeout joints. There are white marble counters, damask wallpaper, large gold-framed mirrors and sleek, oversized hanging lamps. The food is displayed discreetly behind a glass counter and out front is a spacious sidewalk terrasse giving onto a bustling strip of Bernard in Outremont.

And the clientele is decidedly Outremont: business-casual couples drop by after work to pick up dinner, while the odd silver fox sips champagne and slurps gazpacho on the terrasse (there is no indoor seating). The space is part of Théâtre Outremont, one that has seen a few ventures come and go, most recently Halte Urbain (incidentally owned by Perreault’s wife, Mélanie Martin).

With Prêts-à-Manger, Perreault is embracing an upscale, health-conscious, green spin on takeout. Portions are modest, produce is local (where possible), meats organic and containers recyclable. Another twist—takeout bottles of wine, privately imported, from interesting smaller producers in Australia, New Zealand, the U.S. and Europe.

Perreault was the chef-owner of one of this city’s beloved fine dining restos, Area, for eight years until it closed last April. At that time, he complained about the difficulty of keeping a small, up-scale-ish venture financially afloat, what with the strain of rent, staff salaries and the price of quality ingredients.

With Prêts-à-Manger, Perreault seems to have found the perfect solution: get rid of the fancy plates, the white tablecloths and wait staff. Just make the food and let folks enjoy it in the comfort of their own homes.

But with reheating chez-soi come risks. My first Prêts-à-Manger experience hit a snag when we got everything home (a meal for three, with two entrées, a salad, three mains, one side dish and a dessert) and realized that most are meant for nuking. But I don’t own a microwave, because I think they’re evil and make food taste like molten cardboard stew. So, I set about warming various things in the toaster oven, two pots and a frying pan.

Meanwhile, we dug into the cold starters: a scallop ceviche with dill, lime juice, spicy olive oil, fleur de sel and bourbon-vanilla pickled onions ($10), and a yellow tail tuna tartar with fresh lemon, tobiko, flat-leaf parsley and rye bread croutons ($10).

The ceviche was a hit. The scallops were super fresh and so satiny they nearly dissolved under the tooth. The overall flavour was a well-executed marriage of sweet and citrusy. Though the ruby-hued cubes of tuna were fresh and the tobiko beads provided lovely mini-bursts of crunch, the tartar was bland.

The lamb shank ($14) was braised in red wine and bay leaves and came accompanied by a container of its cooking juices. The meat, though tender, was lackluster in flavour, and the sauce, watery and delicate to the point of meekness, did nothing to liven it up.

The salmon ($12), a small fillet with an enticing crispy skin, came with a coriander seed, pink grapefruit and rosemary vinaigrette. Here, the rosemary (a herb better suited to lamb or chicken) and bitter citrus made for so pungent a mix that the luscious fish was overwhelmed.

The stir-fried shrimp with Spanish paprika, garlic confit and citrus butter ($13) was a more successful effort, with the fragrant paprika and garlic brought out by the butter.

The sides—a Macedoine (a fancy term for chopped veg) de legumes, with garlic confit oil, salted pumpkin seeds, curcuma and red wine vinegar and the steamed bok choy with citronelle, ginger and lime leaves (both $2 per 100g). Both were fresh, with a kick of spice and flavour medleys that worked well.

For dessert: panna cotta ($5). This one was killer and just the right consistency. It came in a small drinking glass, flavoured with bourbon vanilla and topped with red berry jam. A perfect summer dessert.

Our dinner came to about $30 a head, which is what a similar meal might cost you in a mid-range restaurant, where you won’t have any reheating or dishes to do. But you’re paying for convenience and quality (the ingredients are top notch). And rent in Outremont ain’t cheap.