How do you define Montreal as a food city?
We have a little of everything, but we specialize in a very open interpretation of French-inspired cuisine.
We’re grazers – a little of this and a little of that, all accompanied by a glass of wine or a beer.
And we enjoy a place for the ambiance almost as much as for the food – almost.
All of these descriptors are the Buvette.
Owner Simone Chevalot worked at the city’s top French bistro, L’Express, as well as the chalereux Le Petit Italian and the now defunct Pistou before she opened La Buvette Chez Simone in 2008. So her appreciation for wine-by-the-glass and an inviting decor seems have infiltrated her restaurant designs.
Even back then, critics knew the buvette was a keeper. It had the right mix of friendliness, coolness, high quality food and a fair price. Oh, and awesome wines by the glass and bottle. It also had a killer terrasse on Avenue du Parc that felt jungle-y (think just enough foliage) while still providing great people-watching (and the ability to be watched, which is just as important to many of the good-looking people on that terrasse).
Still, there’s enough privacy nestled in the corner or in a secluded seat behind the wrap-around bar for an intimate date.
And everyone and his or her dog has had a great date here.
In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I don’t think it’s possible to have a bad date here, which is probably why couples keep coming. (If you have had a bad date here, please don’t tell me and ruin the fantasy).*
So when my brother came to town and I wanted to show him how Montrealers really eat (because we’re not eating at Toqué every night, though that would be far from awful, at least for the first few years), we came to Buvette.
Even after these nine years, there are no reservations – and that terrasse is still in high demand.
The famous roast chicken has been on the menu since the beginning, but the roasted vegetables that come with it change seasonally. Those addictively chewy and charred parnsips, carrots, potatoes, zucchini and bright green, perfectly blanched and sweet snowpeas shouted summer, as did the refreshingly herbal chermoula or pesto or whatever the delicious green sauce that comes slathered over the wooden platter. The chicken was homestyle, chopped into large pieces for sharing, with well-seasoned but not-too-salty skin that Romados would scoff at, but every French grandmother worth her mirabelle plum jam would honour with a deep nod of approval.
It’s not the most mind-blowing chicken in the world, but it’s good, homemade food that doesn’t leave you with a feeling of heaviness or regret. It also feels like everyday food, or maybe just a little better than what you could (or would) put in the effort to make at home. And why should you at that price? A whole chicken for three (very hungry) or four people, with heaps of roasted vegetables goes for less than the price of a single main at most fine dining places in the city.
The yogurt sauce that comes with it is overkill. But if I could eat Buvette’s baguette, maybe I would dip that in it. Really, you should just dip everything in it.
The same goes for the charcuterie and small plates. Instead of one antipasti platter, the menu is really a DIY-build-your-own sort of deal. Small bowls of toasted walnuts, sundried tomatoes, button mushrooms in tamari, cured meats and juicy olives are arranged on the table next to gorgeously plated salads.
More recently, the menu has added more gastronomic main dishes (or at least larger dishes), all while keeping the focus on wine and homemade food. Which is fine, but I’ll stick to the chicken until I get sick of it.
And that easy-to-drink, not-too-oaky white from the Loire or bone-dry Chenin Blanc? Less than $10 a glass – a steal in a city where mark-ups can stretch to over 300%, meaning a $25 bottle from the SAQ could clock in at more than $75. But not at the Buvette. I don’t know if they keep kitchen costs lower because the menu is relatively simple and anyone in their right mind orders small plates with relatively little prep and the roast chicken.
So like the rest of Montreal, I’ll join my voice to the contented refrain of “Oh, Buvette.” Because when the food is this good, this relaxed, this comforting, and even this fairly healthy, it’s easy to concentrate on creating the moments that you’ll remember in five years that have nothing to do with Machiavelli.**
La Buvette Chez Simone
4869 Avenue du Parc
Hours: Daily, from 4pm (kitchen from 5pm)
Price: Less than $25 for a glass of wine and a roast chicken to share
buvettechezsimone.com/
*I have had bad dates at other exceptional wine and cocktail bars. It’s not really the bars’ fault. Could they have made the date better? Maybe. But their job is to serve you good food and wine in a good atmosphere, so let’s not put the responsibility in the hands of your server for getting your inconsiderate company for the evening to stop talking about Macchiavelli long enough to ask you what you do for a living. And that certainly wasn’t the wine’s fault. Food for thought?
**See note 1.
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