As the name should have strongly suggested to me, I recently discovered that l’Corridor really is just a corridor. I was expecting, upon getting to the end of it, that there was a restaurant of some sort. Instead, it is a window, with merely three tables along the corridor should you wish to sit and enjoy your meal. The place is rather curious and easily passed over, as a simple menu by the door and a small sandwich board stood on the ground is the only indication that food is even present down that hall, but it’s worth making the trek to discover it.
l’Corridor…

It’s not often I stumble upon a breakfast place that impresses me. Diners are usually only as good as your familiarity with them; the server that knows your name; the memories of hangover food after drinking too much too late into the night and needing a greasy breakfast - that sort of thing. The alternatives are usually overpriced and offering elaborate fruit displays or excessive quantities to make up for the fact you’re paying twenty dollars for eggs.

Walking by Universel for the first month or two since its opening, I assumed it fell into the latter category. They’d quickly transformed a rather shady looking restaurant that closed within months to a trendy looking bistro, and I could only imagine that the prices would reflect that. I have to say, they did a fantastic job with their renovations. Not only did the whole building get a major esthetic face lift, but they managed to fit a lot of tables and booths into the space quite comfortably.
Universel Restaurant Café…

Spend enough time in this town and someone’s bound to ask if you’ve been to La Paryse yet. The restaurant has been around long enough to be classified in the “institution” eateries of Montreal, such as Schwartz’s, Moishe’s and so on and so forth. I’ve been told it was located just off St. Denis on Ontario, but no one ever told me in what direction, so when I decided to go there for lunch today I walked halfway into the village in the freezing rain before realizing I was hardly “just off” St. Denis anymore and turned around to trudge back.

I eventually found it (WEST of St. Denis, by the way) sharing a plot with a neighboring micro-brewery in an unassumingly modest location. I felt at home the minute we set foot inside, hung up my jacket and asked aimlessly over the counter if we should seat ourselves. “No! Wait,” I was told, as if I were the first and only to have asked, and waited patiently before being directed to a previously unnoticed back room.
La Paryse…

First my friends talked her up, extolling her virtues to pique my interest. Some time passes, my hunger increased, and we decided to meet. Her appearance was cute; petite with a little yellow dress. As I got to know her, I realized there was much more to her than her simple exterior would suggest. We sat down, began talking; the wine was pouring freely. She told tales of her experience, the people she’d met, the places she’d been. Then my date with Tay Do became a little awkward, and things turned a little sour.
Tay Do…

Smoked meat can be found everywhere in Montreal. We put it on our burgers, serve it with our eggs, and, of course, on top of poutine. Traditionally you’d find it stacked high and sandwiched between two slices of light rye bread with a bit of mustard. The quality of the meat is key, but arguing over who serves the better smoked meat is pointless and can potentially instigate riots. In my opinion, when there’s a huge queue developing outside of Schwartz’s, I often find myself wondering why people just don’t go across the street to The Main.
The Main…

This was actually our second attempt at eating at Pintxo. We had tried to make a reservation around Valentine’s Day. I’d called several times and repeatedly received the answering machine. I left a message asking for a reservation, my number and request for confirmation. When I didn’t receive one, I tried calling again, but received the machine, so I sent a follow-up e-mail. I assumed, after all this, that someone would have heard our message and/or read our e-mail, and a reservation would have been made.

Unfortunately, when we showed up to dine, this was not the case, and we failed miserably at finding a back up restaurant at 8:00pm on a Saturday. We ended up returning home to make taco salad from bits of stuff leftover in our refrigerator.

That Monday, the manager replied to my e-mail to make sure that our reservation was successful. I explained that it wasn’t and he gave me his personal information and told me I could contact him directly the next time we needed to.

This week we were ready to give it another go, and a reservation was set in stone by the manager himself. I should hope that when you try to visit you don’t have similar problems. Making a reservation well in advance is perhaps your best bet as the whole restaurant was seamlessly filled for our dining duration.
Pintxo cuisine Espagnole…

Over the years Moishe’s has built itself quite a reputation, enjoying success and longevity by delivering consistent excellence to a growing, dedicated clientele. It is known the world over and was recently being named one of the world’s best steakhouses by Forbes Traveler. If Moishe’s is considered one of the best steakhouses in the world, it is most certainly one of, if not the best steakhouse in Montreal.

M:Brgr is the spin off restaurant of Moishe’s, featuring gourmet burgers and accompaniments. After numerous recommendations and a claim that they’ve perhaps fashioned the greatest burger ever made, I deemed it required eating, as their slogan suggests. After all, it does not seem like a big leap for a master of beef steak to create a masterful burger as well.
M:Brgr…

We entered Le Nil Bleu directly in the restaurant. The foyer could more properly be called a doorway, and soon I was occupying the same space as the coat rack as people shuffled in behind us. We stood uncomfortably in the entrance looking for our dining companions, envious of those sitting and enjoying their meals in the dimly lit African decor.

After several minutes, we were seated and I fixated on the crowd until our friends arrived and joined us. While I was waiting, I had noticed a thin and fragile looking statue wobble, perched upon a tiny table, swaying to the movement of the floorboards as wait staff walked by. This was foreshadowing unbeknown to me. As a waiter walked by, the floor collapsed in part, and our and the adjacent party’s tables shifted inward, as if losing one of their legs. We were soon relocated to a table at the perimeter, the vent from the wall pouring heat into my side as if part of my leg had been transported to Africa. Later, we’d notice that our old table now featured an engraved “reserved” plate, presumably for undesirable, but mindful guests.

At our new table we had great difficulty deciding on the menu options. The menu is not littered with many unnecessary items making a choice difficult, in fact, it is like a two page high school essay using no smaller than 14 point font. However, our goal was to maximize our selection, and choosing combination platters omitted a few dishes we had wanted, duplicated others, and allowed for absolutely no substitutions. Despite our previous disarrangement, we still managed to choose a balanced meal featuring a vegetarian sampler, the one vegetarian dish omitted from the vegetarian sampler, and a beef and chicken dish.
Le Nil Bleu…

Riding in a horse-drawn carriage through old Montreal in the month of December is very cold. Despite the heavy blankets and the rather temperate weather during our excursion, the wind coming in from the St. Lawrence can chill to the bone, making it rather difficult to take tourist photos. I fumbled off with my gloves and tried to conjure enough warmth into my bare shutter finger to snap a few pictures for my mother, but soon gave up. Luckily for me I live here and already have these photographs anyway. I could easily make duplicates of anything I’d missed.

As our driver mentions local points of interest, a few restaurants are mentioned as well. I don’t know if the drivers get kickbacks from the restaurants themselves, but there are three that are invariably mentioned during every carriage tour. The only one of those which has been recommended to me by locals is Gibby’s.

Gibby’s…

We nearly passed Il Trullo as we walked up St. Denis, as the entryway looks more akin to a coffee shop than a restaurant. Once inside though, the dozen or so tables were adorned with table cloths and candlelight and the decor had a sort of contemporary hominess rather than something of a tiny espresso bar. Our waiter looked like a first cousin of David Rocco, adding a point of Italian authenticity to the environment.

Il Trullo…