Exploring Montreal’s Gastronomic Scene: Decadent Chocolate, Portuguese Flavors, and the Hunt for Perfect Cookies

As the glow of my laptop screen illuminates my new pink fleece pajamas, late into the Montreal night, a glass of 10-year-old tawny port warms my hand. This isn’t my usual writing hour, but then again, Montreal isn’t an everyday city. It’s a place that invigorates the senses, especially the culinary ones, pushing the boundaries of what one might consider a “normal” meal schedule. Today was a testament to that, a whirlwind of flavors that started with a pilgrimage to a chocolate lounge, meandered through an exquisite Portuguese breakfast, and culminated in a grand seafood dinner.

A Divine Indulgence: Montreal’s Molten Hot Chocolate at Suite 88

Our afternoon adventure began with a search for something truly special: the hot chocolate at Suite 88 chocolate lounge. Recommended by Chowhound, this was to be our sweet salvation as the Montreal chill began to set in. The walk, a little further and significantly more uphill than our map suggested, only amplified our anticipation. We arrived cold and depleted, conditions that, by all accounts, should have made the chocolate experience transcendent. While the array of truffles we sampled evoked a rather unenthusiastic “meh,” with the rest regretfully packed away for a friend, the real star of the show awaited.

And what a star it was! You know I’m a connoisseur of hot chocolate, and this, my friends, did not disappoint. It was a cup of molten bliss so rich, so intensely flavorful, it almost warranted an ambulance on standby. Dark and profound, yet perfectly balanced – never too sweet, never bitter – it boasted a texture that was a smooth, velvety dream, akin to a perfectly executed custard sauce. It was chocolate, but more than chocolate. My mind immediately drifted to Willie Wonka’s factory, envisioning this as the very taste of that fabled chocolate river, exactly as I’d imagined it as a child reading about Charlie scooping up mugfuls of warm, frothy liquid. Lucky, lucky Charlie indeed. Even after walking most of the way back to our hotel, the lingering warmth and a delightful flutter of heart palpitations necessitated a brief lie-down.

A Morning Masterpiece: Breakfast at Cafe Vasco da Gama

Our evening meal wasn’t driven by hunger so much as a strategic move to diffuse the day’s chocolate intake and maximize our precious Montreal eating time. A naive attempt to secure a last-minute reservation at Au Pied du Cochon proved futile, leading us back to a serendipitous discovery from earlier that morning: Cafe Vasco da Gama. We had stumbled upon it for breakfast and met George, the friendly brother of the owner, whose family also owns our dinner destination.

Every single detail at Cafe Vasco da Gama was, in a word, outstanding. The vibrant atmosphere, the aroma of fresh baking, and the sight of chefs deftly sliding oiled and herbed sweet potato chunks in and out of the oven were captivating. We found ourselves wishing we could linger all day, watching them serve up marinated olives and those incredibly appealing grainy, beany salads. For our breakfast, we savored a perfectly cheesy omelet infused with Spanish chorizo, accompanied by fresh fruit. A generous bowl of mixed fresh berries, a delicate raspberry Danish, and a charmingly wee Portuguese custard tart, all paired with robust cappuccinos, made for an unforgettable start to the day. It was a symphony of flavors and textures, each bite a testament to fresh ingredients and expert preparation.

An Evening of Portuguese Grandeur at Ferreira Cafe

While we would have gladly returned to Cafe Vasco da Gama for dinner, it was closed for the evening. Luckily, George had already given us the insider tip about his brother’s magnificent Portuguese restaurant, Ferreira Cafe, just a few doors down. Walking in, we were greeted by an elegant ambiance that promised a memorable dining experience.

Our initial bread basket, accompanied by fragrant olive oil, and two exquisite entrées (in the true European sense, referring to appetizers) would have been more than enough to satisfy. It’s a common trap, isn’t it? Ordering with the initial pangs of hunger rather than allowing a few nibbles to bring one back to their senses. If we had, we might have realized there was no need for the gigantic, impressive bowl of Bouillabaisse de poissons et fruits de mer en cataplana alongside my friend Sue’s delectable salted cod special.

The unquestionable highlight of the meal, by far, was the Salade gourmande de homard et foie gras au torchon. This “gourmet lobster and foie gras au torchon salad” was a masterpiece of textures and flavors. It featured a glorious main sail claw of succulent lobster meat, a melting slab of velvety foie gras, tender baby potatoes, the slenderest of green beans, vibrant grape tomatoes, crisp frisée, and a truly magical vinaigrette that tied all the elements together with a subtle tang and richness. It was a dish that celebrated luxury without pretension, each component singing in harmony. A very close second in terms of culinary delight were the “Fleur de sel” roasted sardines, perfectly cooked and served with a robust olive tapenade, showcasing the simple elegance of Portuguese coastal flavors. The bouillabaisse, too, was quite fantastic, brimming with fresh seafood and a rich broth, though by the time it arrived, my appetite, sadly, had already been thoroughly conquered.

The Elusive French Cookie and a Digital Dilemma

Amidst our gastronomic triumphs, one quest remained unfulfilled: the search for suitably authentic French cookies. I had visions of delicate macaroon sandwiches, perhaps from a charming little patisserie. However, our packed schedule, which had us prioritizing other culinary and cultural experiences, meant we didn’t venture into as many bakeries as initially planned. Tomorrow promises a mad dash to see as many old churches as possible before we catch our cab to the airport, leaving little time for pastry hunting.

Adding to my late-night musings, I had hoped to share a recipe for Stroopwafels. I have it ready to type out, but a frustratingly weak internet connection is proving to be a formidable adversary, preventing me from uploading the crucial accompanying photo – and frankly, a recipe like that absolutely *needs* a visual. This digital struggle is unfortunately slowing down my entire process, limiting the number of photos I can share.

A Sweet Diversion: Discovering “Squeeze Cookies” and Roasted Flour Innovation

Despite my own current photo woes, I find myself needing to direct you, once again, to another blog for a truly worthwhile cookie discovery. And in keeping with our lingering French theme, I highly recommend exploring Chocolate and Zucchini’s Squeeze Cookies (A Roasted Flour Experiment). This concept of using roasted flour is something I’ve been hearing a lot about lately, and for good reason.

The core idea is simple yet revolutionary: by toasting your flour, much like you would nuts, seeds, or oatmeal, you fundamentally boost its flavor profile. I used to lightly brown flour in a skillet for gravies, primarily to enhance their color and add a subtle depth. In this particular cookie recipe, however, roasted flour takes on a starring role, lending a whole new dimension of nutty, complex flavor that elevates the humble cookie to something extraordinary. Beyond flavor, roasting also subtly affects the gluten structure in the flour, which in turn influences the texture of your baked goods. These “Squeeze Cookies” are sandy sables – a type of cookie that doesn’t rely heavily on gluten for its characteristic crumbly texture – making them a perfect candidate for this innovative technique. The addition of fleur de sel further enhances their sophisticated appeal, offering a delicate salty counterpoint to the rich, toasted notes.

But perhaps the best, and certainly the most charming, part of this recipe is the method itself: generous wads of dough are simply squeezed in your hand and then baked just as they are. (Seriously, do check out the photo – it’s delightfully rustic!) This approach is about as far removed as you can get from the often-fussy, intricate world of rolled, cut, decorated-with-royal-icing-and-fancy-dragees cookies. It’s an anti-Martha Stewart moment, a celebration of simplicity and authentic flavor. Take that, Martha! It’s a reminder that sometimes the most profound culinary joys come from the most unpretentious methods.

As my Montreal adventure draws to a close, my mind is already brimming with ideas for future culinary explorations, both in travel and in my own kitchen. The memories of decadent chocolate, exquisite Portuguese cuisine, and the quest for that perfect cookie will certainly fuel many more late-night reflections.