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3899 St. Laurent (next to Schwartz's)
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Hours: Sun - Wed 11:00 AM to 1:00 AM; Thu 11:00 AM to 2:00 AM; Fri - Sat 11:00 AM to 3:00 AM. Licensed: Yes. Cards: Visa, Interac. Price range: Under $15. Non-smoking section: Kind of, but not really. Tel.: 484-0005
The legend of Mondo Fritz is as old as the Bavarian Hills: Fritz-Gunther Mohr, equestrian and burger lover, founds the first Mondo Fritz in the little town of Hoffmüller; the word spreads, the townsfolk, then the region, then the whole country goes wild; Mohr is poised on the verge of international culinary stardom when his horse steps in a hole dug by truffle hunters and Mohr is no more.
 However, before the restaurant closes its doors for good that very same afternoon, a Montrealer of Bavarian extraction manages to sneak a menu across the border and the Atlantic to Boulevard St. Laurent and copies Fritz-Gunther’s idea right down to the special sauces.
Here, then is “Mondo Fritz”: Fritz’s World.
While one does not immediately feel the ambience of Teutonic bonhomie upon entering this narrow, dimly-lit space, the eyes will light up when presented with the beer selection, which occupies the entire other side of the main menu. There are beers from every far-flung part of the globe: Italy, Lebanon, Trinidad (and Tobago!), Czechoslovakia, Vietnam and Denmark, among others, including a large and comprehensive Canadian section. (“Nouveauté!” screams a chalkboard on the wall: Moosehead Ale, known to most North Americans but prohibited in Quebec until recently.) An 8% toffee-malty Maredsous from Belgium ($6.20) goes down with a rush redolent of the leas of Waterloo, but a Boréale Dark parries with a thrust from the Plains of Abraham.
 But you didn’t just come for Fritz’s beer. The menu is haute-casual, centering on the burgers that Fritz-Gunther loved so much, but surrounded by warm friends like hot and cold sandwiches, hot dogs (the Mondo Dog—Swiss cheese, sautéed mushrooms and dijon, and the foot-long “Le How Long” with mayonnaise, ‘kraut and onions) and a surprisingly large section of . . . poutines? The faithful say they are good here, but somehow one does not have the temerity to find out on this particular evening.
A Jalapeño burger (cheddar, jalapeño peppers, lettuce and tomatoes with sweet mustard, $5.00) is robust and beefy on a Kaiser roll, (only the best for Fritz!) the jalapeños providing a small tongue-wedgie each time one explodes in your mouth. A salmon burger ($6.35), with fresh (not smoked) salmon with lettuce, tomato and onions and a lemon-pepper mayonnaise, is plump and moistly satisfying. You have the choice with most of the dishes to add frites for a couple of bucks extra.
 Awaited with a frisson of excitement is the large fries with the six sauces: spicy curry mayonnaise, garlic-basil-pepper mayonnaise, paprika-harissa mayonnaise, dijonnaise, the aforementioned lemon-pepper mayonnaise, and a spicy tartare sauce. However, the fries are disappointing: dark brown and overly greasy (though one of the faithful insists that they are usually better) and the sauces are uniformly bland and cloyingly clotted. More pep, in Fritz-Gunther’s memory, is the word here, for his vision of Mondo Fritz would simply not have tolerated la banalité.
Puzzlingly, the soundtrack of the meal is early 80s. Somehow Cyndi Lauper does not jibe with the image of Fritz-Gunther Mohr dashing through the hills of Bavaria, but that was the world of Fritz: always the unexpected. Requiescat In Poutine, dear Fritz! — Reviewed by Nicholas Robinson
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