Le Parchemin

I had always wanted to go to Le Parchemin. Not because I had heard good things, or thought it was trendy or cool, or anything like that. I wanted to go because once, when I was walking by, I took a look at their menu and saw that among the standard (if not dusty) items like sweetbreads and rack of lamb and pot au feu was a dessert I had never seen on a menu before: baked alaska.

The day I saw baked alaska on the menu I was reminded of how cool I thought it was when I was a kid. Ice cream you bake? I mean actually put in an oven? How defiant! How interesting! Ingenious! Of course I had to try it. But I never got the chance. Twenty years passed and now here it is, on the menu of an archaic French restaurant. So I dutifully added it to the list of places I wanted to try, now that I am an aspiring foodie, and continued on my merry way. The problem was that no one wanted to come with me.

You see, the thing about Le Parchemin is that, in the minds of other foodies in Montreal, it’s sort of a relic. You know, a place your parents liked in the eighties. Which is fine, but there have to be some redeeming qualities, otherwise it is just a snotty French restaurant for old people. For instance, the food really isn’t that great, because you know, if it was, the foodies would go, snottiness and oldness be damned. (For an example of this, look at the success of Bonaparte, or Le Caveau, both of which are snotty and French and basically for old people.) And the menu isn’t really all that interesting, baked alaska notwithstanding. Also, we’re not talking about a place where one can see and be seen, or that has any kind of concept or novelty, so no new clientele are replacing the (ahem) old ones.

So what happened was this. My friend assisted someone in a winning hand at a poker tournament that resulted in his winning two gift certificates: one for Le Parchemin and one for Decca77. When asked which one she wanted, she thought of me (bless her heart) and chose the one for Le Parchemin. A couple of weeks later, heedless of the crazy storm that raged outside, we found ourselves snug as bugs in the dowdy, patrician dining room of Le Parchemin.

OK, so let’s talk about the ambience. Residing in an old presbytery, this restaurant’s dining rooms are fashioned after what I can only assume was a standard sitting room of a French aristocrat. We’re talking actual silverware, paintings in frames, wallpaper, window dressings, antiques. I sort of like the whole antiquated look, but I think that some things could probably be done to warm it up a little, as it was a little stuffy.

Now let’s talk about service. Our waitress was very nice, if a bit eager—she asked us what we wanted to drink before we had even been given the wine list. (On the topic of the wine list, let it be said that prices were very reasonable. Not an outstanding selection, but very affordable.)

Now let’s finally talk about menu because, remember, this is the one and only reason I was there. The baked alaska had been removed from it! Nowhere to be seen! And when I asked our nice waitress if I could still order it I was told the menu had been updated, and no, I could not.

So as tears fell from my eyes, we ordered our meals. I ordered a green salad to start and the grilled salmon with eggplant and thyme puree. It was just OK. The salad tasted as though it had Miracle Whip in it. The fish was overcooked and thus a little dry (but I like it that way, so I can’t complain). The veggies were interesting, though—for instance, I would never have thought to mash beets. And the presentation was great.

My friends M and C ordered the French onion soup to start and they thought it was just OK too. For mains, C ordered a tuna steak (special of the day), which she thought was overcooked, just as my salmon had been. M enjoyed her rack of lamb with Boursin and herbes de provence but did not consider it to be remarkable in any way.

For dessert, we had a very small portion of chocolate mousse which was, like everything else, just OK. Certainly no baked alaska, anyway.

All in all, this experience was just so-so, just like everything else. The highlights were the wine prices and the service, which was not at all snotty and was very attentive without being overbearing. They even let us sit around and talk without hassle.

The lowlight, other than the obvious lack of baked alaska, was the food. The menu was boring and the execution was off.

Will I ever go back? I don’t think so. I think Le Caveau and Bonaparte win.

And I’m still on the lookout for baked alaska.