An Epicurean Play, in Twelve Acts

Over the last two weeks I've had the pleasure of dining at two of Ottawa's newest restaurants: Play Food and Wine, and Atelier. Typically when you go to two top restaurants within ten days there are things in common between the two and you are easily lulled into comparing one preparation of fois gras to the other's - or these days pork belly, short ribs or steak frites. And had the second visit been to Navarra or Black Cat I could easily fall in to this trap. But beyond the hype factor created by a second Stephen Beckta opening and Marc Lepine's evolutionary leap after six years at The Courtyard (I was turned off by this 80's vintage haven for the Greyhound crowd, so I lack objectivity), there is little in common.

Ron Eade wrote extensively about Marc Lepine in a series of November articles on his blog Ominovore's Ottawa, so I was somewhat prepared for the journey in molecular gastronomy and the secrets behind his kitchen. But having seen this before at the now defunct Black Cat on Clarence, under the mantle of Rene Rodriguez, recently of Navarra fame, who played with the concept with mixed results, I was a little skeptical as to how far this journey would take me. The event that brought Kim and me (and two friends) to Atelier was their Anti-Valentine dinner (for which appropriately Kim picked up the tab - I fearing that my visa card would once again be rejected). When our waitress, Erin, came to the table and constructed our centrepiece by dipping a rose into a bucket of dry ice and smashing it on the table, I thought we were off to a good start.

Over the next 4 and a half hours (as the evening progressed I appreciated why our reservation was for 6 o'clock), we were guided through a tour of chef-meets-chemistry lab, each course fitting in to the antipodean love theme. Essential to appreciating what was brought before us was a serving staff that could describe each dish in detail, and its preparation, along with a very good understanding of the wine paring. Making best use of the tools of his trade, such as an anti-griddle and immersion circulator, Chef Lepine kept us entertained with courses that were unique, playful, and tended to contrast taste sensations.

These ranged from a bold starter, a "cold-hearted creamsicle", a heart-shaped creamy lemon (vodka) popsicle, made on an anti-griddle, that had a sprinkling of bright yellow whitefish roe to provide a wonderful salty contrast to the tart lemon cream; to a surprisingly mellow Nitro Noodle Soup - a butternut squash soup with a togarashi chili spice blend, in which noodles made of a crab apple puree that had been nitro-frozen, steamed from the bowl to offer dramatically contrasting temperatures. Another course featured an oyster that rested on a very small piece of lemon topped with a frozen sambal chili-based hot sauce and a very small leaf of cilantro. It was served on a clothespin-like spoon that pinned a piece of star anise designed to provide a hint of licorice scent and balanced in a piece of PVC tubing. In this case the chili sauce was a brilliant contrast to the salty oyster and tart lemon with the cilantro offering a freshness to contrast the heat of the frozen chili.

Following a course that witnessed the wait staff brandishing a fishing rod with a small piece of albacore tuna baited on a fish hook that had marinated in maple syrup, pan seared and then drizzled with caramel and chives, there was an interesting palette cleanser (Yellow Snow), made from granulated frozen coconut with a shot of concentrated pineapple juice syringed over top; there followed a mushroom plate (winter mushroom, eryngii and, if I recall, oyster), pared with a small glass of sake - and while I found the mushrooms unspectacular, and for some reason oddly out of place, there was a wonderful cellophane thin piece of carrot that literally melted in my mouth.

The clear winner of the two meat courses was a bison steak that had been prepared sous vide and then pan seared. This was done perfectly - it was tender, the very rare side of medium, and was loaded with flavour; accompanying the bison was a puree of sunchoak, finely sliced beets and a thin cylinder of purple potato.

The three dishes that remained were the "sweet deserts" that, consistent with the theme, were anything but! The first was a remarkable interpretation of nachos: it consisted of a small cheesecake on a crust of crumbed corn chips topped with a few shards of sharp cheddar, an incredibly subtle frozen salsa (with a piece of salsa paper), a smear of guacamole, sour cream ice cream, fiely chopped black olives and some dried jalapeno powder. Nothing in this dish was sweet and yet it all held together as one might expect from a cheese course.

The second was the chocolate course, which featured a hollow bitter chocolate heart smashed by our waitress Erin(a broken heart), that oozed a sour cranberry sauce accompanied on the side by cranberries, a small heart shaped brownie and two soft spicy cinnamon hearts.

The penultimate desert was an intense display of acidity centred around lemon, lime and orange. This consisted of jellied lime, two torched meringue and a dominant centrepiece of frozen lemon foam that bore a unique shape. And touching off the evening was the "Don't be Cruel" truffle, a homage to Elvis, that featured a white chocolate truffle filled with banana and peanut butter, and covered with a sprinkling of bacon bits.

Accompanying the bill was a Dear John letter! And there endith dinner at Atelier: an interesting evening, with. . . very interesting dishes!

I think anyone who is seriously interested in food, willing to try new things and up to spending $300 for dinner (for two), should block off an evening at some point and make a reservation at Atelier. It is truly an experience. But I'm not likely to go back anytime soon - at least not without virgin Atelier diners; this is an evening of extraordinary culinary entertainment where the shared experience is as important, if not more so, than the food - the wonderment of what can be done. But it doesn't easily fit in to the traditional definition of a meal - it is not "dinner out" - it is a show, where one walks away fascinated, amused, satsified with the performance. . . and surprisingly full.