Reflections On Narcisse

A favorite Montreal spot has a new name...and food that's even better than before

Story and photos by Benjamin Pomerance

There’s something sad about the disappearance of a well-liked restaurant. In a way, it’s a death — in a culinary sense. So I was discouraged to hear the news that Les Ramparts, one of my favorite French eateries on Montreal’s “Old Port”, was no longer serving. Of possible interest, though, was the fact that a new restaurant — a bistro called “Narcisse” (French for either daffodil or Narcissus, the mythological youth who fell in love with his own reflection and was transformed into a flower) — had opened in the small hotel where Les Ramparts used to be housed, one floor above the former Ramparts dining room. And after joining my family for one meal at Narcisse, I can state confidently that while we have lost Les Ramparts, a gastronomic reincarnation has taken place at 97 Commune Street. The old restaurant is gone, but the new eatery in its place is every bit as good as what we Ramparts fans have lost.

The new place is different, though, from the restaurant that used to exist in this location. Two phrases I have never joined in the same sentence are “French cuisine” and “healthy.” At other French bistros where I have eaten, the dishes tend to emphasize ample cuts of meat and rich, savory sauces. Vegetables usually are treated as afterthoughts — or even are non-existent. This appears to be standard for this genre of fare, and I entered Narcisse expecting to be served something along these sauce-heavy, vegetable-light lines.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I discovered that all the entrees emerged from the kitchen not only with a vegetable, but with a veritable vegetarian buffet accompanying the featured item on the plate. All three of the main courses we ordered came with a lovely arrangement of asparagus, baby zucchini, baby bok choy, baby corn, and miniature red and yellow peppers, served with a bed of succulent red cabbage. Even better, the vegetables were not steamed into submission, as I have found certain vegetables at other very nice restaurants to be, but rather were cooked in ways that retained the integrity of their individual tastes and flavors. If I were awarding prizes for my dining surprise of the year, this would probably be a top-contender.

Aficionados of traditional French cuisine do not have anything to fear, however. Narcisse is, above all else, every inch a bistro. The restaurant’s menu is lined with French standards created in the classic style, from Salad Nicoise to beef bavette in shallot sauce to Lyonnaise-style veal liver. And the meals still feature the wonderful sauces made with artery-clogging quantities of butter, cream, and other such delicious items. Yet the meals made from these traditional ingredients are not overly heavy and did not leave me feeling overly stuffed. Instead, I came away from dinner feeling sufficiently full, and with some very nice tastes still lingering in my mouth.             

My mother tried the bistro’s house-made duck terrine for an appetizer, which proved to be one of the highlights of the night. Served with typical accompaniments — baby gherkins, baby onions, hard-crusted toast — the terrine was remarkably flavorful and light to the point that it practically melted in my mouth. My father’s French onion soup was also quite tasty. While this soup can often be heavy enough to constitute a whole meal, this version actually was worthy of being designated an appetizer. The onion-and-beef broth was very nice — not too salty, a problem I have experienced elsewhere — and the melted layer of gruyere cheese on top of the crock was excellent, and not so think that it overwhelmed the actual soup.

As for me, I couldn’t pass up the provincial-style escargots, cooked with a bit of melted cheese along with the traditional garlic-butter sauce. I find myself writing about snails an inordinate number of times in reviews about French restaurants, but when made properly, there are few appetizers I enjoy more. These escargots were excellent, and I enjoyed lapping up the excess sauce with the herb-seasoned bread (basil, I think) that was brought in a basket to our table.

My mother also received a salad, a sizeable mesculin mix with tomatoes and cucumbers, to supplement her meal. For $15.95 (Canadian dollars), Narcisse offers an early-bird dinner special from 5-6 p.m., a fixed price menu which includes the salad, your choice of three main dishes selected for that evening, your dessert, and coffee. Given the quality of the food, the deal certainly seems economical, although somehow Mom was the only one of us to take advantage of it. Her main course, a filet of sole, was superb, cooked in an innovative apple-leek sauce — and accompanied, of course, by the unexpected abundance of vegetables.

My father received the largest main course of the evening. His roast quail entrée consisted of several of the little birds, served on a plate that could legitimately be considered a platter. Still, he finished the entire thing without mentioning once how large the portion was — a sure sign of contentment. Served with a sweet grape sauce, the quails were very tender, allowing the succulent meat to fall off the bone and onto the fork with ease.

I tried the deer medallions, and these, too, proved to be very good. Like the quail, the medallions were buttery-tender. The cranberry-based sauce with which they were served was excellent, bringing out the richness of the deer meat while adding a slight hint of tartness to the taste. And then there were those vegetables…

Of course, we lost whatever we achieved in healthy eating by consuming those vegetables as soon as it came time for desert. We ordered two to share among the three of us. Both were bistro standards. The tarte tatin, an upside-down apple tart where the apples are caramelized in sugar and butter before being added to the tart and baked, was sweet without an overkill of caramel taste, and was attractively presented with vanilla ice cream on a long, narrow plate.

Even better, though, was Narcisse’s crème brulee. The custard was flavored with vanilla, as is typical, but seemed to have more flavor to it than the typical installment of this dessert. And the thin layer of caramel atop the custard was not overly hard, leaving the emphasis on the tasty custard underneath. This dessert seems to appear on almost every menu in Montreal, but I have had few — if any — that are better than the one concocted here.    

All told, there is life after death on Commune Street. The old life of Les Ramparts unfortunately is gone, but Montreal food lovers can rejoice in knowing that upstairs in Narcisse, a delicious new existence has begun.

Have you ever dined at Narcisse?