Choice Chinese

Pulled pork sandwiches and fresh noodles make Maison du Nord different and delicious

by MARK SLUTSKY

“It’s basically a Chinese bagel,” said my friend. You couldn’t come up with a better way to entice me if you tried. He was referring to the bread in the rou jia mo, a pork sandwich commonly sold as street food in Northwestern China. I was barely even aware that there were such things as Chinese sandwiches, so when I found out they were a specialty at Maison du Nord, yet another interesting Asian restaurant in the burgeoning ethnic food enclave around Concordia, I had to check them out.

I had another reason, too. A bowl of beef soup, made with home-stretched noodles, at Qing Hua Dumpling on St-Marc, was probably one of the best things I’ve eaten this year. Sadly, the noodle guy disappeared shortly thereafter (the explanation I heard was something vague and ominous about a “noodle-related injury”), but later I heard a hot tip that he, or someone possessed of similar skills, was slinging them at Maison du Nord. (By the way, if you’re planning on checking out Qing Hua’s delectable dumplings any time soon, hold on, because they’re moving to a new location on Lincoln and should be open sometime in September.)

Maison du Nord sports the spartan atmosphere common to all really good Chinese restaurants. We’re talking plain walls, until recently whitewashed (now with a sort of off-mango colour) and featuring some scattered thrift-store art; a weird raised platform in the middle of the room; some pictures of food on the wall at the back; a mysterious briny smell permeating the air.

I went with some Chinese friends, who were excited to try the Maison’s specialties, which don’t share much in common with Chinese-Canadian fare, and let them do the ordering. We started with the garlic pork and the salad with cucumber and pig ear (both $8.99). The garlic pork was an aromatic and spicy dish of sliced pork belly: soft, delicious. The pig’s ears, cooked slowly, were also tender, but with a bit of a snap to them. If the texture of cartilage really puts you off, this won’t be for you, but if you can handle it, you’ll like these. Both were enhanced by lots of fresh cilantro.

Then, some dumplings. We ordered the pork and fennel ($9.99 for a generous serving of 22). These weren’t as transportingly fresh and delicious as Qing Hua’s, but they weren’t bad either. The fennel gave the flavour a little kick (and I think I tasted dill in there too). The garlic-heavy “one side fried” dumplings ($8.99) weren’t quite as good; we were pretty sure they’d been frozen before fried.

The sandwiches came out next. For $4.99, you get your money’s worth: quartered, they were almost like four small sandwiches. “Bagel” didn’t quite fit as a description, but what really came to mind was pulled pork. Cooked similarly—slow and low—and flavoured with peppers and a distinct hint of vinegar, the shredded pork meat was sandwiched between two slices of pressed-flat bread. It was all a little oily, but delicious all the same.

We tried three different kinds of noodles. One, labelled “Chinese spaghetti” ($7.99), got a couple of my friends in quite a tizzy, as it was a dish they’d remembered fondly from childhood. This was a big bowl of noodles with a Bolognese-like minced pork sauce on top. Tossed and served, it was somewhere between spaghetti and a pasta salad. We also tried two noodle soups ($7.99), both made with a meat stock, one very spicy and the other served with glistening chunks of beef. These were outstanding, the noodles soft and so fresh—though be careful, you’ll want to eat them right away before they get too soggy.

You’ll have to ask for the next dish specifically because I couldn’t find it on the menu, but it was a soup made with square bits of the bread used in the sandwich, which were then soaked in a lamb broth with big chunks of meat. A strange-looking soup, all white and cubic, but rich and hearty—something to warm you in the dead of winter.