Twelve seats. One menu.
A tasting-menu room on Notre-Dame, open four nights a week. One seating, one menu, and nowhere else to be for the next three hours.
A plate at a time
Seared scallop, brown butter, brown crab
Hand-dived, seared hard on one side only, the butter taken to the edge of burnt. The one dish that has never left the menu in three years.
Beetroot, goat curd, hazelnut
Salt-baked for two hours, then dressed warm. The vegetarian course, which is not an afterthought here — ask any guest who has had it twice in a week.
Lamb loin, its own jus, charred leek
Cooked over the wood fire in the pass, rested longer than feels reasonable, sliced at the table. This is why the room always smells faintly of smoke.
Dark chocolate, olive oil, sea salt
Seventy percent, barely set, a green oil from a grove we visit each spring. The only course that has been on the menu since the first night.
Nine plates, one pair of hands
Every dish that leaves the kitchen crosses the same pass, under the same lamp, checked by the same person who wrote the menu.
“Four courses that argue with each other and somehow win. The scallop alone is worth the drive.”
R. M. · Montreal Gazette
“No phones out, no rush, no explaining the menu twice. It is exactly as small as it sounds and exactly that good.”
A. D. · guest, September 2026
There are twelve seats a night
Reservations open six weeks out and the room does sell out.
Reserve a table