Prêt-à-manger

Les Épinards caters to the
discerning palate on the go

by MATHILDE RABBAT

The corner of Mont-Royal and St-Dominique, which formerly housed the eclectic Anubis and, more recently, Au Feu Bistro, now provides a befitting spot for the bourgeoning, two-month-old, les Épinards, specializing in prêt-à-manger. The concept is simple: stay for a bite, or take away. All pre-packaged selections are kept cool, or frozen, ready for transport at a moment’s notice.

This basic but charming eatery, with seating for no more than about 20 diners, is the brain child of a dynamic duo, an awesome twosome with mad cooking skills. One of the partners’ repertoires includes truffles, or chocolate in some other form, as evidenced by little confectionary boxes branded “Rose Chocolat” artfully stacked in a glass display case near the counter—though I’m told by the chef that you’ll have to wait till the chocolatier is back from vacation to sample those.

But on to the real food. “Fusion” is perhaps too broad a term to describe the resto’s offerings; French with accents is more fitting, at least on my particular visit, as the menu varies from week to week. Ingredients such as canard confit, lardons and gruyère, and dishes like the tian de poulet à la provençale, unquestionably belong to the French portion of the culinary spectrum, while ginger, sprouts and shitake mushrooms are decidedly drawn from further east. Other influences hailing from somewhere in between, like tajine, also grace the menu board on occasion.

For the lunch crowd, they offer a variety of sandwiches ($6–$7.50) on baguette or ciabatta and filled with regular fixings like ham and cheese or more exotic stuffings like nuts, duck and sausage.

From appetizers to dessert, nothing I sampled was lacking in execution or taste. Crunchy celery quarter moons and vermicelli noodles formed the base for the Thai salad ($6.50), complete with shrimp, minced pork, bean sprouts, peanuts, green onion and a welcome dose of hot red pepper. The baby spinach and rice vermicelli version ($6.50), which also incorporated celery and pork basted with an orange sauce, did not disappoint. Ginger and cilantro, along with a sesame oil dressing (with a hint of balsamic or something of the sort), made this cold appetizer a must-have. Of all three salads, the carrot and coriander ($3) proved to be the milder of the bunch, but was by no means bland with its tangy vinaigrette coating finely shredded carrot and cilantro.

As to main courses, in my view, you simply cannot go wrong with a tart. Either the potato and bacon or the one with red pepper, fig and brie. Despite the difficulty inherent in insuring the potato cooks just the right amount so that it neither falls apart nor is too raw, the slivers of spud were just the right thickness and melted against the palate like butter.

I know what you’re thinking and yes, the pepper-fig-brie tart is indeed every bit as good as it sounds. As with all the dishes I sampled, a good balance is struck between the ingredients so that they complement, rather than overpower, each other. Both of these tarts, served warm rather than piping hot, will set you back $6 or $12, depending on the size.

The offerings may be limited, but the wine list seems to go on forever. The vino selection impressively takes up as much space (a blackboard full) as the weekly menu—entrées, mains and desserts combined. You’ll find European reds, whites and rosés hailing from France, Spain and Portugal, ranging in price between $20 and $35 per bottle. The selection of wines by the glass is considerably more limited and will set you back an even $6.

After such a tasty meal, the prospect of tackling dessert elicited a certain degree of trepidation: “Could the dessert possibly live up to what had come before?” I wondered, prior to caving right into a sinfully scrumptious brownie ($3) with a side of homemade vanilla ice cream. “Heavenlier than hash” would be a fitting way to describe it; quite possibly the best vanilla ice cream I’ve ever had and a smashing way to cap off a set of delicious dishes.