Provence al-fresco

Outremont’s Terrasse Justine is a
nice addition to the neighbourhood

by GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

What makes a neighbourhood restaurant great? It should be small, but not so small they can’t squeeze you in on a busy night. It should be cozy, maybe feature a few plants and definitely food that’s fantastic, but in a casual way, like something you’d whip up for a dinner party with friends, or something you wish you had the chops to whip up.

And so it goes at each outpost of the trio of Justine sister eateries: Bistro Justine (the eldest, on Van Horne), Justine Bistro à Vins (the middle child, on St-Denis) and Terrasse Justine, the newest addition to the brood.

Terrasse Justine is already showing signs of youngest child syndrome in the whimsically colourful décor and sunnier Provencal flavours (garlic, anis, lavender) and techniques (grilling, pan frying), as opposed to the more classically Parisian fare of the others. But the strong family resemblance is undeniably there, in the diminutive stature, efficient service and neighbourhood vibe.

French-born owner Philippe Brault and chef Sébastien Héloin (who walked a few blocks here from Bistro Justine), have a winning formula, and they’re sticking to it: bargain prices for excellent quality, fresh French cooking that never pushes any boundaries, but always pleases. Wines are mostly privately imported and always drinkable (if not memorable), and kitchen classics are favoured across appetizer, main and dessert categories (think foie gras, chèvre chaud salad, braised lamb shank and crème brûlée).

Terrasse Justine takes over where once was Delfino, the longstanding mom-and-pop seafood restaurant that kept things even more simple by serving impeccably fresh fish dressed only in lemon and olive oil, on the otherwise residential rue Lajoie (Joy Street!).

Where Delfino was all white table cloths, muted tones and low lighting, Terrasse goes red, orange and mustard, with a giant, circular, polka-dotted mosaic feature dominating one wall. But on each of my two visits, not one person was sitting inside, preferring instead to perch on the leafy patio and capitalize on this city’s all-too-brief window of opportunity for al-fresco dining.

A suitably hearty and garlic-infused, vegetable-packed soupe au pistou ($4.50, though it was perhaps too wintery a choice for such a balmy summer eve), a wonderfully salty anchoiade (like tapenade, but with anchovies instead of olives) with crudités ($5) and a silky, creamy terrine of eggplant and goat cheese ($5) were a promising start. As did the glasses of wine suggested to us by our young, bespectacled waiter: a citrusy Lagaria pinot grigio for myself, a young but tasty Domaine Camplazens Syrah for my dining pal (both $6.50).

A cod with aioli main ($15.95) came crispy on the outside and impossibly tender inside but lacked aioli (I was looking forward to a creamy garlic assault but got a mere artful drizzle). In the calamari with chorizo ($14.95), luscious, pillowy white tubes were set off by spicy nuggets of sausage. And the lavender crème brulée ($5) had just the right amount of the plant’s perfume, rich and smooth beneath, burnt to a crispy crunch on top.

On a return visit for a weekend brunch, the herb and cheese omelette ($14.95) had lovely gruyère bite and came fully cooked, not “baveuse,” or slobbery, as the French call their traditionally runny omelette (which was fine by me). My breakfast buddy went the sweet route, opting for the crepes with apples and cream ($13.95), thin envelopes of dough housing softened apple slices, not overly syrupy. Each choice comes with a basket containing one perfectly buttery-flakey croissant, a Danish, some baguette and coffee or tea.

And the breezy terrasse is just as lovely during the day, given the serene setting. The most traffic we encountered on Lajoie that Saturday was of the sidewalk variety, with extended Hassid families strolling to and from synagogue. Anyway, Justine, welcome to the neighbourhood. Again.