Some restaurants have life stories. The Black Cat Café\’s story is one of survival. Born 30 years ago on Echo Drive, it also thrived for a decade on Murray Street (plus a couple of stretches of thinking-through-its-next-move) before finding its way to Preston Street.
Along the journey, some gifted chefs made Black Cat purr — notably René Rodriguez, Trish Donaldson, Keith Kowalski and Catherine Wise. Now we can add Steve Vardy to that list.
Vardy made his name in this city as opening chef at Beckta (2003-2006). After stints at Par-fyum and The Whalesbone Oyster House, he left Ottawa in 2007 for a resort project on Fogo Island. He\’s been wooed back to Ottawa by the BCB father-son team of Richard and Reme Urquhart while the project on The Rock runs behind schedule. Word is, Vardy\’s here for two years.
This latest Cat has made a slight surname adjustment (from Café to Bistro) and stretched in size since its ByWard Market incarnation. Spread out over two levels, rimmed with two walls of windows, the look is handsomely understated. High-gloss black tables and black rounded chairs cover dark wood floors. Whitewashed brick and lengths of mirror cover walls not covered with window. Window wrap around two walls. Other than the bar, which is its own slab of art, the only adornments of note are the flying-saucer resin lamps with leafy etchings that hang over the tables, upstairs and down. The one splash of colour in the space is provided by brandied orange booths on the upper level. A gas fireplace set in a cocoon of wood warms that upper room.
There will always be “better” tables in any restaurant and restaurants that show quite differently in summer than in winter. In January you may have a different experience seated by the door on a 23-below night, with a view of the neon bank sign, than tucked into one of the upper booths with a view of the fireplace. I expect that, come June, when the sidewalk patio is open and leafed-in trees provide some bank protection, the Urquhart boys will field a lot fewer requests for the cosy tables by the fire.
But for now, the food will warm ya.
Vardy has assembled a slate of wintry comfort food — heavy, meaty, rib-sticking fare — though there are moments too of great delicacy. We began with one of those. A starter of white tuna from B.C., torched (flash seared), the pale pink fish sliced and sitting up naked, glistening along the length of a white plate. Around it, a disciplined garnish of halved grapes topped with thin rounds of jalapeno, crispy wisps of shallot and a confetti of purple basil shoots. Pretty, indeed, but also ethereal, gentle, and then an edge of Whoa-Nellie! when the jalapeno bites. I was most reluctant to share.
Lucky for me, my other mouth had the venison carpaccio. I lingered over this plate, too. The meat was gorgeous — rich, supple, almost sweet, and the traditional beef-carpaccio garnish of Parmigiano was given a Canadian twist with aged cheddar and some zingy mustard.
In a third starter, roasted pears, pickled beets, blue cheese and almond praline gather together happily in what Vardy calls a winter salad.
Two main dishes I thought splendid — the fennel-seed-crusted sweetbreads, creamy soft, but with a crisp exterior, topped with the beautiful Lion\’s-Mane mushrooms that look like January icicles, leeks and crisp chunks of yummy fatty bacon; and a perfectly cooked duck breast escorted with Black Mission Figs. But I found the chorizo sausages too assertive, too gamey for the scallops they were paired with, and Vardy\’s roast chicken, brined and smoked before roasting to crisp-juicy glory, was too forcefully truffle oiled. It\’s an elixir that, used in moderation, adds a rich, elusive note to a dish. Too much is ruination.
The kitchen struts its stuff for dessert. The crème brûlée is infused with cardamom, cinnamon and a vanilla bean and works better than sunshine to dispel winter. The lemon tart is strong and smooth, the short crust heavenly. Don\’t leave the Cat without a wedge of it.
There is a first-class wine list to match with this food. It allows ample choice, but isn\’t so so big to cause a quandary. And the BCB staff — at least those I\’ve encountered — are well acquainted with what comes out of the kitchen and the cave.
We\’re glad the Cat came back.
We have just had our first dining experience at the “new” Black Cat Bistro and can describe it in one word – Outstanding! The reception by Richard and Reme Urquhart was as warm as we remembered – they have a comfortable and attentive way about them which immediately puts you in a great frame of mind and ready to enjoy their offerings. My husband and I both opted for the Roasted Butternut Squash Bisque which had just the right amount of coconut milk to make it creamy and tasty. We followed that with the Caramelized North Atlantic Sea Scallops – they melted in our mouths but had just the right amount of zing with the Chorizo and I think, jalapeno. We enjoyed a New Zealand Elephant Hill Sauvignon Blanc 2008 which complimented the meal to perfection. We finished our evening with a Tawny Port and a plate of Quebec cheeses complimented by caramelized walnuts and a honeycomb. The cheese plate was reminiscent of our dining experiences while living in Europe – just the right amount and variety of cheese, well presented and a perfect finish to a fabulous meal. We will definitely be back and although we don’t want to jump to conclusions based on one visit, we suspect this restaurant will again become one of our favourites and possibly numero uno.
My brother, his partner and I visited the Black Cat on Saturday evening for dinner. The first problem arose when we were informed that if one person ordered the table h’dote menu, everyone at the table had to have it. Perhaps you could explain why this would be so. Next the tuna appetizer was raw, the Bison appetizer was raw as was the seafood appetizer. I enjoy fine dining but I prefer to see how the chef cooks it. I had a thin corn chowder and the other had the salad. The main course was pickerel and scallops and were delicious. Then came a lengthy wait for the dessert. The waiter had forgotten to place the order. The bill with one beer and two glasses of wine came to $260 before tip which was excessive.
Hmmm… seems to me you ordered the carpaccio (which is paper thinly sliced raw meat) the tuna sashimi (again, raw) and the dish described as an assortment of raw fish. If you’re not a fan of raw, I can see why you’d be disappointed!
I wish to correct the previous review. Included in the $260 was a Tee shirt and another glass of red wine.
I’ll start by saying that I’m not normally a stickler about service, so long as the food is on point. However, our experience at Black Cat Bistro this past Friday definitely altered my perspective somewhat. That’s not to say that it was all bad. No, our server was polite and unobstrusive, and instinctively realized that after a long work week, idle chit chat was not on the menu.
That being said, there were definitely a few issues to which we took particular exception. First of all, upon arrival we were unceremoniously greeted by the Black Cat’s owner, Richard Urquhart. Barely acknowledging our presence, Urquhart looked and acted as though our reservation somehow inconvenienced him. Without even looking us in the eye, he turned on his heels and darted off in the direction of our table. A rousing beginning to a meal, this was not.
Thankfully, the food more than made up for the cold shoulder. My wife started with the duck confit salad and followed with the tuna tataki appetizer in lieu of a main. She loved them both. I started with the smoked and charred octopus and followed with the lamb sirloin. The octopus was probably one of the best dishes I have ever had. This may sound bizarre, but it’s flavour and smokiness was almost akin to barbecued pork. My main was equally delicious. The lamb sirloin was cooked to medium rare, as described by our waitress. However, in retrospect I probably would have ordered it rare. Nonetheless, it was simply a great dish and clearly echoed classic french bistro fare. Moreover, not only was the food delicious, but artfully presented as well. Suffice to say, this kitchen has serious chops.
Now, a few minor quibbles before delving back into the aforementioned service issues. Firstly, butter should be served at room temperature. There is no reason that a knife shouldn’t be able to slice through it like, well, butter. Instead, it seemed like it arrived on our table straight from the fridge. Another pet peeve of mine is the lack of a sharp knife. If I’m ordering lamb sirloin, I expect to be provided with a proper knife. I’m sorry, but a butter knife just doesn’t cut it (pardon the pun). Disregarding these minor shortcomings, the food was amazing.
By the time we finished our meal (lemon tart and chocolate pave for dessert, both satisfying), the space was brimming with people. Good for them, but less so for us. We were left unattended at our table for a good 20 minutes waiting for the bill . From our vantage point, it seemed like our waitress had been steered towards another larger table mid-service and we got lost in the shuffle. Okay, minor inconvenience, but certainly not the end of the world. However, upon receiving our bill, we were again left to our own devices until we got fed up, left our seats and made our way to the debit machine. Since the space was extremely crowded, we were positioned closer to the door. At this point, Mr. Urquhuart looked at us, gave us a once-over, and chirped: “You guys planning to dine and dash or what?”. My wife and I looked at each other, incredulous at the audacity of the comment. We promptly paid our bill and got out of there.
Here’s the thing: Just because my wife and I are casually dressed 20-somethings does not mean we are destitute, classless, or horrible tippers. We were judged by our appearance and our age, which quite frankly reeks of elitism. You know, I’d probably give Mr. Urquhart the benefit of the doubt and chalk it up to a joke gone wrong, but following his less than gracious welcome earlier on, I think it’s safe to assume this was not a joke gone wrong, but a well-placed jab at our expense.
The Black Cat Bistro would do well to adopt a friendlier attitude towards all of its patrons, and not only those sporting designer duds or flashy jewelry. You’re supposed to be a friendly neighbourhood bistro, now it’s time to act like one.