“Perfect” versus “Delicious”

Loire Casual Gourmet
119 Harbord Street
416-850-8330
Dinner for two with all taxes, tip and wine: $150

It's nearly impossible to fault Loire's food on sheer technical merit. The Russian judge would be all over this place, and yet something in the entire performance seems lacking. For all its culinary precision, Loire is missing that unquantifiable je ne sais quoi.

Located on suddenly-chic Harbord Street, Loire is hosting one of the prettiest crowds I recall in a Toronto restaurant. Well-heeled patrons of all ages prove that Harbord is no longer the isolated turf of rumpled academics. The room is small and the décor is sparse, but white walls and high ceilings let the space retain an airy feel. Wood accents add warmth, and a tiny back bar faces Chef Jean-Charles Dupoire's open kitchen. In addition to the dark leather banquette seating along one wall, they've crammed two additional rows of tables into the narrow space. With such economy, it proved inevitable that someone's behind was in my face for much of the evening - take out one of the bloody two-tops and give us all back our self-respect. Still, we fared reasonably well in the seating lottery - certain tables seemed positively punitive, including the one next to us which was set for three in complete defiance of its actual size.

Upon arrival we were offered four small slices of baguette with some butter and settled in with some wine - a Riesling from Alsace for me and an Ontario pinot noir for my date (okay, my sister). The wine list is well conceived with a handful of by-the-glass options ranging from $9-14 and most bottles between $40-65. A few reach skyward, but only some bubbles by Moet break the triple-digit mark. France is well represented, and specifically the Loire region, as is local fare from Prince Edward County and Niagara. It is only later in the evening that I remember we never received a cocktail menu - quel dommage, since I never miss an opportunity to order a French 75.

A parsley root soup ($8) is served piping hot, just as it ought to be. Smooth and slightly peppery, it tastes reminiscent of celeriac, and is garnished with just a hint of foam and a smidge of something cream-ish. The flavour is subtle to the point of benign, but it's definitely pleasant and I cannot find fault. The goat cheese salad ($13) offers two small toast rounds of melted cheese topped with roasted pistachios plated alongside a small salad of mixed greens dressed in a light vinaigrette. A streak of berry coulis adds colour and a flavourful zing. Chef's choice of a slightly atypical Sainte-Maure goat cheese (produced in the Loire region) makes all the difference. This aged chevre is a little denser than the usual spread-with-knife variety. It has a more robust, nutty flavour than its younger cousins with a crusty rind that adds yet a bit more texture.

A small slab of whitefish ($24) is served over a mung bean and carrot salad with Chinese greens. A pale pink blood orange yogurt sauce adds visual interest to the plate and a subtle and refined boost of flavour. The fish was cooked to perfection, with crispy skin and flesh that was snowy, tender and light. The mung beans were a nice variation, recalling in taste and texture the lentils that one might traditionally expect to accompany this dish. "Chinese greens" actually amounted to one stalk, a parsimony bordering on offence.

Flank steak ($25), was ordered rare, and other bloody meat-eaters will appreciate that the kitchen did not overcook the crimson coloured meat that appeared along with three fingerling potatoes and a stalk of baby bok choy. A light jus added a touch more flavour to the simple dish.

Serving sizes at Loire are small. I don't think more-is-better, but I like vegetables and one stick of baby bok choy seems stingy. I appreciate that smaller servings are letting Loire keep prices down (and there is no main here over $30), but I'm concerned that even medium-sized appetites could leave hungry.

Desserts ($9) were competent, although securing them was a hassle. We sat with our dessert cards for about fifteen minutes and but for duty calling, I would have given up interest. Apple caramel cheesecake was marred by its Winterlicious-esque presentation. Two petit-four sized squares offered barely a taste of the dessert since I was sharing with my sister. Moreover, both squares were end-bits so there was never a pure, unadulterated bite of creamy cheesecake. Finally, the cake itself didn't seem at all apple-y, said flavour apparently piggybacking on the little cubes of fruit garnishing the plate. Maple walnut ice cream was good, but cheesecake and ice cream seem de trop and I would have preferred one reasonably-sized slice of cake.

Chocolate and nougat mousse fared better. The double-layered square of mousse had a rich, intense chocolate flavour, but the best part was the crackly, Toblerone-like crust flecked with nougat. Vanilla ice cream was tasty, but again added perhaps too much sweet and rich to an already decadent dessert and we didn't finish this plate.

Service became progressively worse as the night wore on. Three servers seemed to share responsibility for the tiny room so it was hard to know who to hold accountable when water glasses needed refilling (they remained unfilled after we finished our initial bottle of water, a missed opportunity for selling more H20), or when we needed our cheque (eventually I flagged it down, a rudeness I typically try to avoid). Moreover, the fifteen minutes dessert lag would have cost them my order on any other night. Loire's co-owner and sommelier Sylvain Brissonnet works the front of the house. He's trying, but he's not a natural and often seemed overwhelmed.

Service issues aside - and there are problems here that need resolution - most of our meal at Loire was technically infallible (with a minor sticking points on dessert presentation). Dishes are well conceived with attempts to infuse the menu with less-seen ingredients and flavours (mung beans, parsley root, nougat). Still, even these risks feel safe — too safe. While I understand why Loire is earning accolades, I left feeling flat. While Loire occasionally conjured "perfect" (most notably the whitefish), it never once aroused a sensual and genuine "delicious" - and ultimately I'll take delicious over technical perfection any day.