Au Pied de, a temple to all things fatty and artery hardening, a cardiac surgeon’s worst nightmare. It draws foodies and gluttons from afar, after all, it has drawn me from my home base in Toronto. There’s a lineup of anxious diners waiting to be seated and the restaurant is packed so full there’s barely elbowroom; surely a good sign of the meal to come.
Chef and Owner of PDC, Martin Picard, is a lover of decadent foods and excess. He has a special penchant for Foie Gras, the engorged fatty liver of a duck. This wonderfully delicious fare is likely one of the deadliest and fattiest foods ever grace the face of this planet. However, Foie Gras is not without criticism.
In the past years Foie and its relatively niche industry has been under attack for its believed cruelties to ducks and geese. Restaurants have removed it from their menu, nations have banned production and even the great food city of Chicago was once forbidden from selling this delectable treat.
Fortunately for me, both Martin and Quebec have no qualms about Foie. PDC is a haven for Foie Gras feigns and their menu is plagued with it. This is exactly what I came to the restaurant for, to overindulge on Foie Gras.
Upon entry, there is nothing visually stunning about the restaurant. An open kitchen with a bar flanks the left side of the restaurant and a mirrored wall on the right only makes the space look slightly larger. The tables and their chairs are simple wood and the dinnerware is well used and scuffed. The restaurant’s staff, both servers and cooks, are wearing t-shirts, denim and runners. There’s every bit a sense here that PDC could be a pre-packaged utility restaurant.
In the restaurant, there’s a sense of chaos in the air. Servers squeeze between narrow tables, dodge standing customers and even push past their own comrades. Everything appears rushed and forced; the ballet of fine dinning has definitely left this restaurant. But perhaps it’s a controlled chaos to them. There’s a buzz in the restaurant and it’s quite loud due to the capacity crowd, open kitchen and jousting servers.
Some believe that this is Martin giving the finger to the world of fine dinning. He is unequivocally proving that good food can come without the packaged pompousness, pretention, primping or polishing.
Before I can even begin to describe the actual food we ordered I have to be clear on the disappointment of the bread. Served in a stainless steel mixing bowl, thick cuts of bread were complemented with a matching miniature stainless steel ramekin of butter. The bread was fine, but the butter, something so simple and neigh impossible to get wrong, was frozen solid. I understand that I was going to consume a frightening amount of calories and fat but I didn’t need the exercise trying to wrestle this non-threatening dairy product. Struggling to scrape off shavings of butter and nearly bending my only knife I admit defeat. Thwarted, I resort to eating the bread without it. I’m not impressed but I’m still hopeful that things would soon change.
The meal begins with the foie gras cromesquis ($4). The cromesquis is a cube of Foie Gras Terrine breaded and deep fried. It eats like savory Truffle, filled with a warm liquid Foie Gras center that explodes in your mouth. It’s an ethereal experience and a near perfect amuse bouche. The dish is only tarnished by the fact that it was served on a very obviously chipped plate.
A very generous helping of foie gras terrine came next ($25). Rich, creamy and unctuous it was spread onto thick cut toast points and accompanied with apricot jelly. Nothing fabulous about the toast or jelly, the terrine was clearly the star. Spreading it like butter, I dreamt of substituting other foods in lieu of the toast. Scones, bagels, and muffins oh my! How life could be improved, and vastly shortened, with a little daily dose of foie gras.
Following the terrine came our seafood course, the Tempura Soft Shell Crab ($20). Oh goody! A deep fried seafood palette cleaner to break up this expedition of Foie. Although typical, the crab is excellently paired with a strongly Vietnamese influenced vinegar dipping sauce.
PDC’s iconic Duck in a Can ($36), a dish born of either genius or sheer madness, is something to behold. Margret duck breast, Foie Gras, and Sauce cooked in a can and served table side. Looking at the can I can only think of L’Tour d’Argent’s Pressed Duck meeting Dr. Frankenstein in the guise of Martin Picard. While a fascinating and ingenious idea, it sorely lacks in execution. The duck is overcooked, dry and tough and the normally luxurious fatty skin was entirely inedible. The redeeming qualities of this dish come from the wonderfully rich sauce, mashed potatoes and toast. Although, only likely due to copious amounts of butter, duck fat and foie gras.
The foie gras poutine ($23) arrives and we hope it’ll be a pleasant recovery from the canned duck. French fries cooked in duck fat, cheese curds, foie gras poutine sauce and a slice of seared foie gras. Obscene is the only word that comes to mind. I’m aware that I could find this nearly exact dish closer to home (Bier Market, Café du Lac) but there’s something more justified about eating it here in Montreal, at PDC. The only fault I find is over seasoning, easily remedied by consuming more wine. The foie gras poutine sauce, like almost everything else, is treacherously rich; we mop up any left over with some bread.
Our server returns to our table, looking impressed that we’ve consumed everything, he grins and offers us dessert. Hunched over, breathing heavily and looking up to him I can only think, “He’s trying to kill me and I can’t run.” I concede to the meal and as politely as possible I say for no more. Our server smiles, pleased by the idea of our gluttony and suffering and retreats back into the crowded room.
I glance around the room and see other diners joining me in my gluttonous state. Many have a glazed look in their eyes. Others are still slowly chewing away not wanting to be trounced by a plate of food. To my right, an even sadder scene occurs, I see fear in a man’s eyes as he realizes he’s only consumed half his order of the PDC Pork Chop; a chop so large it would give Fred Flintstone a run for his money. In my field of view, the common factor among everyone is how pleased and tranquil everyone appears.
This is what those who come to dine at Au Pied de Cochon come for, the sheer madness of excess and gluttony. PDC should be on the list of every foodie’s list of places to eat. The service and ambiance isn’t noteworthy but the food and sheer madness of it is enough to warrant a trip. Luckily for us Toronto-ians, Montreal is only a short drive away.
Au Pied de Cochon
Address: 536 Duluth St. Montreal QC – 514 281 1114
Three Stars out of Four
Chef: Martin Picard
Hours: Tuesday to Sunday 5:00 PM to Midnight
Reservations: Yes, absolutely necessary but they do accept walk-ins
Wheelchair Access: Accessible
Washrooms: Clean and bright with deep sinks. Outfitted with a television to watch the kitchen
Price Range: Dinner for two with wine $150
This was a review I wrote for a school assignment.
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