Harbord Street is as good a gastronomic stroll as I can find within a mile of where I live. It offers a couple of blocks of Food Med, Messis, Olive and Lemon, Harbord 93 and until recently Kensington Kitchen, beloved of vegetarians. But KK is now shuttered ( it has announced it will open elsewhere) and been replaced by Tati Bistro which has the neat pretty look of an oldfashioned French maid and a smart burgundy façade. Poitiers-born Laurent Brion, formerly of 8 Resto Lounge, is one of the owners as well as the chef, and his menu, which is hung outside, proclaims Tati’s mission: classic bistro fare from snails to steak tartare to moules mariniere. And yes, it’s named for that winsome comic Jacques Tati (Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday). In fact Tati’s bicyclette is part of the bistro’s logo.

I go on a Sunday night soon after opening. The place is inviting, the service personal because there aren’t many customers. The music isn’t invasive - as yet. The blue and chrome tables have been saved from Kensington Kitchen and smoothly blended into Tati’s suave new look, red plush banquettes, flattering lighting, cannily placed mirrors which enhance the space and send the candlelight softly round the room. There’s a long bar and a sign that cooking is gonna be taken seriously here, a chef’s table tucked away by the kitchen. Bread comes out with large holes in it, vrai bread. The wine list is admirably reasonable. We have a couple of glasses of Viognier - Toronto’s vin de jour - which cost $7.95 apiece. Not bad at all.

Surprise! I didn’t come here for novelty but I get it anyhow. Chef Brion loves vegetables. He puts sides of vegetables on his menu and they’re lifesized vegetables. I haven’t seen a lifesized veg on my plate for weeks. It’s a paradox. Veggies are touted by nutritionists as something we should eat as much as possible. And yet vegetables are often afterthoughts in many restaurants, the posher places tend to make them into amusing although very tasty garnishes. Brion however isn’t afraid of a small carrot which he cooks to perfection. He doesn’t present vegetables as “hot raw” in Julia Child’s immortal phrase, woefully undercooked by zealots who believe a tooth broken on a hard turnip is all in a good cause – the precious enzymes saved by undercooking. No, these carrots melt in the mouth and so do the green beans, and the roasted garlic, while the grilled courgettes (zucchini), always the exception to the cooking rule, are properly crisp.

Most temptingly of all, Brion lays out a tranche of mashed potatoes made mustily savoury by dots of black truffle. Here, the chunk of black cod poised above the veggie feast might be considered the afterthought. The fish is flawlessly fresh and firm with one flaw – too many bones.How do you remove a bone from your mouth without freaking out your companion? This is an urgent matter for the polite diner. Who wants to watch someone picking bones from their teeth?

But I should start with the beginnings – excellent too. We have dithered over the frisee with lardons and Roquefort and duck pate. Instead, a lissome roasted beet salad, gold and purple beets, slivered almonds, routine lettuce, enough vinaigrette and a heady wild mushroom feuillete, two triangles of crunchy puff pastry strewns with wild fungi in a rich dark veal jus. When it comes to the second course, I spend time wondering what will be the dish to define this restaurant? I see a Bavette steak with fries, and I like nothing better than the bistro way of roasting lamb, but finally I plump for rabbit with mustard sauce, a rare sight on local menus. I am a little let down. The rabbit itself is tender but the sauce is almost too sour for me, it’s the creamless version which no doubt wouldn’t have gone so well with the accompanying hand-thrown herbed spaetzle. On the other hand, I don’t think spaetzle, those amusing dumplings, go particularly well with the rabbit and in addition, they’re a tad tough.

Desserts are from the familiar playbook: crème brulee, an apple beignet and lemon tart which has my favourite lemon filling, creamy and just acid enough. The pastry is on the heavy side.

Now to the bill. By definition a bistro is local, cheap and cheerful, plentiful sit-down lunches and dinners cooked with brio. These are not easy elements to replicate in Toronto – or for that matter anywhere in North America where the cheap and cheerful market has been co-opted by fast food eating. I had hoped that Tati Bistro would be a candidate for my upcoming “second courses under $20” list. I’m compiling the list as a counterweight to the rising cost of dining out now the $50 second course is on the horizon and closing fast. But Tati is expensive by bistro standards. The fish cost $28 – I don’t begrudge the cost of good cooking and the dish was more elaborate than most routine bistro fare – I simply regret it. I’d thought of ordering Bouillbaisse but was put off by the $30 tab – the soup is made at Tati with expensive clams, shrimp, calamari…. What I’m trying to say is that despite the generically inspired menu, Tati really isn’t a bistro either in cost or size - it can seat (on two floors) up to l00 people. It is a new invention: a Bistrone.



** Tati Bistro 124 Harbord St. 416-962-TATI No Wheelchair. Noise N/A Dinner: Food plus tax $93

Note: It is Lorenzo Loseto who is the chef of George - reviewed last week. I misspelled his name. Please hold the hemlock on my next visit because I won’t know cos the food is so delicious.