Lovin’ spoonful

New Laurier eatery Greasy Spoon
is anything but a diner

by MATHILDE RABBAT

Sunny-side-up eggs, hash browns, bacon, coffee and orange juice, those are the things greasy spoons are made of. It’s an unwritten law of sorts, yet none of those staples can be found at one of the latest additions to Laurier’s resto scene, a greasy spoon in name only, occupying the same spot as the short-lived l’Ouverture, the Haitian eatery which set up shop when the Italian Alloro, closed its doors. The Spoon’s owners apparently overlap with those of another new joint, Marché 27, a tartar bar on Prince Arthur.

Offerings, prominently displayed on a gigantic chalkboard, generally number no more than a half dozen appetizers and main courses. Though the menu is revamped on a daily basis, you’re sure to find some sort of salad, a soupe du jour and a tartar therein, as, I’m told, these are hallmarks of the Spoon’s menu. Just as it fails to provide anything remotely diner-esque, prices are decidedly un-greasy spoon-like as well.

Appetizers range from $7 to $14, and mains will set you back anywhere from $15 to $28. For those with a more modest budget, there’s a 5 à 7 special where certain more affordable selections can be enjoyed for 25 smackers, including a soup and salad.

After careful consideration, the grilled tomato tartelette ($9) now figures on my list of must-have appetizers. A heavenly light and flaky filo shell, resembling an inflatable kiddy pool, encircles a caramelized onion filling spiked with marjoram, resting beneath a grilled tomato cap. The golden tart shares its space with a delightful salad composed of glistening arugula greens, radishes, red onion, shredded parmesan and roasted pine nuts, sprinkled with an olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette.

It’s a shame the tilefish doesn’t figure on the board every night—but no doubt better from a wildlife conservation point of view. This mild-tasting white fish harbours a flavour comparable to that of lobster or scallops. A thick slab, skin and all, is seared just enough to preserve its tenderness, and then topped with a colourful tomato, parsley, onion and roasted almond salsa, enhanced with a twist of lemon and an unmistakable pinch of aromatic marjoram ($25). With its accompanying enjoyable, al dente, grilled patty pan squash and smooth carrot and ginger purée, the dish hit all the right notes.

If fish isn’t your thing, you won’t be disappointed by the hearty New York AAA Angus strip loin ($28). The cut, best enjoyed rare or thereabouts, comes with large oyster mushrooms sautéed in garlic and a dusting of chopped chives. Add to that a mountain of creamy butter-filled mashed potatoes, and you’ve got enough protein and filling carbs to sustain hours of shovelling fun. This main may lack a creative component when compared to the two other dishes, but what it lacks in that department, it more than makes up for in the rather flawless execution.

After having devoured and relished every last morsel, the question was: Were they going to be able to follow up the well executed main dishes with a dessert that was up to par? Curiosity and, let’s be honest, sheer gluttony prompted an order of the satisfying coup de grace, chocolate chip cookie dough, served piping hot, straight out of the oven, with a vanilla ice cream top hat, the sole dessert listed on the board.

As an added bonus, the place doubles as a fully equipped bar, meaning there are just as many customers there for the drinks as for the food. Fresh oysters and shrimp are also an important part of the menu and are proudly displayed behind the bar on a bed of seaweed and ice.

A casual yet stylish atmosphere features a large moose head, an ’80s-inspired soundtrack and high seating fashioned from rugged leather and thick planks of wood. I can already picture the terrasse bustling with thirsty punters on a steamy summer’s night.