104 Laurier Avenue West, Tel: (514) 276-6999 |
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hef Rassa Bassoul cooks up an orgy of flavors, combining ingredients from all regions in the Mediterranean. One of the best and most daring kitchens in town, this restaurant sent thrills and chills through the central part of my sorry body.
When I replay our visit in my mind, I get more and more convinced that we lived through a cult scene in Eyes Wide Shut or the Rocky Horror Picture Show. We did not know what we were getting into, as the pastel-colored facade looked so innocent smack in the middle of the peaceful and trendy part of Laurier Street.
The decor is stunningly and stylishly severe and cold, perfect for a Prada shoe store or one of those emptyish Parisian boutiques that have two hangers with thin black dresses, a lone thousand Euro camisole on an art deco shelf, and a vampire saleswoman looking at your dirty shoes. There are stairs leading to an upper level, where diners are seated in various corners, far away from each other, to partake in whatever diners partake in upstairs chez Anise. The table at the bottom of the stairs is ideal for the people and thigh watchers.
We will get to the food later. The staff, all thirtyish good-looking Frenchmen, were hypnotised and psychotized by the dominatrix of the house and paralyzed by the fumes of Rassa's cauldrons. They hover around the tables in robot style, their hearts set to -200 degrees Fahrenheit. There is a theory that some cloning experiments on the plateau have gone wrong last winter. No use killing a waiter, there is another one just like it in Rassa's closet.
So, we were seated at the bottom of the stairs to heaven (this is where a nerd would normally place a smiley). There is a six course menu at $65, which costs $110 if you also take three glasses of wine. That is why we opted for "a la carte".
The appetizers include a salad ($12), grilled shrimps with a fennel and arak-flavored risotto ($14) and surf 'n turf Anise ($25), which has scallops, foie gras, black rice, curry and coconut milk.
I had the lamb pillows (flaky pastry) filled with shallots, cranberries and pine nuts in a grenadine reduction ($12). Absolutely out of this world. And with the breathtaking mediterranean music that is piped in, one could easily imagine being in Istanbul, Corfu, Palermo or Carthage.
Unknown to us, we were all being put in the same trance as our robotic servants by the sleepy sweeping creeping tunes piped up from purgatory.
At this point, my regular companion, NSG, decided to read a passage from a book, out loud, about six pages worth, his heavy Czech accent and exaggerated tsarist demeanor violating all the rules of the dungeon. The diners at nearby tables were too dazed by the food and the harem music to put up a decent fight. The snotty robots were not programmed for a situation like this. It lasted a full fifteen minutes. This was, I am sure, the first and last public reading at Anise.
On to the main course, which was equally superb, sensual and original. Both NSG and I tried the venison ossobucco braised in caraway seeds, Lebanese couscous and autumn roots ($32). There was a lamb pastilla flavoured with seven spices, dried apricot tartare and roasted curry scented pear ($28).
One of our women tried red snapper ($30) in tahini sauce, accompanied by pita chips and dandelions sauteed in coriander. Of course, the menu is in French, and you have to know that red snapper is vivaneau, and that dandelion is pissenlit (literally: pee in bed). In the early spring, the young tender shoots are used in some parts of France to make salads with cheese, hard boiled eggs, vinaigrette, garlic and croutons, but not so in the house of Stanley Kubrick. I cite this passage in "Tales from the Loir": "Pissenlit is a diuretic and has been prized for its medicinal assets for hundred of years. It is supposed to reduce blood pressure, eliminate excess body fluids, and dissolve gall stones among other things." There is also a "vin de pissenlit", a non-alcoholic aperitif that cleanses and heals, but that is not recommended for people with problems involving the kidneys, heart, bladder or intestines. Her gall stone dissolved into a green goo, her blood barely pumping at 30 over 60, our dandelion woman had just enough oomph left to drag her body up Rassa's stairs to one of the opium rooms to eliminate all her excess body fluids.
Our second woman tried the grilled octopus, cumin-scented red lentil puré and caramelized cipollini ($26). From the rather expensive wine list, we picked a Cahors ($70). Prices start around $40, average about $110, and extend all the way to Saint Peter's door.
We enjoyed a fantastic pineapple with a muscat-flavored zabayon sauce, and a pernod-soaked chocolate cake and pistachio icecream.
The bill, who cares? We were all soooo glad to be allowed to leave, and were pleasantly surprised when we realized that Laurier Street was still there and that the world had not been taken over by aliens. -- Reviewed by RestoSpy
