This is going to sound strange, but Lucie’s hospitality reminds me of an immigrant parents’ love towards their children. The care they show may not be excessively warm, attentive, or frequent, but deep down you can sense they care and will nurture where it matters most.

For example, they ensure you don’t make any rash decisions while hungry. Before you’re even presented with a menu or asked about drink preferences, Lucie ensures you’re hydrated with water and fed.

A structure of canapés is presented that pays tribute to Chef Arnaud Bloquel’s grandfather who tended to the family farm. After his morning tasks, he’d sit under an apricot tree enjoying the fruits of his labor. And hence, our first bites contain ingredients that could be found on a farm:

• A tube made from crispy potato filled with duck terrine and tartare. It’s a bite mixed with flavours and textures, awfully delicate but hearty as well.
• The thumb of toasted brioche with radish and cheese wasn’t as great but offered an earthy rustic flavour that screamed of rural life.
• And lastly, a sweet pea tart that looks light but covers a bed of herring mousse, so you’re greeted with a smoky briny punch. If your interest and taste buds weren’t present, they will be after these first bites.

Now let’s start talking menus. Once I saw the words ‘beef Wellington’, I knew the L’Experience Pithivier tasting menu ($160 per person) was the way to go. We decided against the wine pairing ($80 for half pairing and $130 for full) and treated ourselves to a glass of champagne instead ($45 for a glass of Perrier-Jouet Grand Brut).

The champagne cart was pushed over and the glasses poured with efficiency and without fan fare. Once whisked away, I looked down and was delighted by the procession of bubbles that rose from the specially dimpled glasses. The sommelier didn’t need to point out the feature, like an immigrant parent he allowed us to discover the special touches ourselves.

Not long after ordering an amuse bouche arrives: a dome filled with refreshing trout tartare topped with a vibrant basil sorbet that’s unexpectedly creamy and adds a wonderful element to the dish.

With a choice of two starters, the l’asperge verte offered me a taste of hopefully the first fruits of Ontario asparagus. The tender spears were lightly barbecued and adorned with a rich egg yolk sauce and lemon foam. On the side, a tart that’s described as being hazelnut based and topped with caviar - an atypical combination that works and was flavourful but light.

Before the main, we’re presented with a Campari sorbet that serves as a palette cleanser but also a mini cocktail. It’s a smart format, as I rather liked the drink before moving into a bolder red wine for the rest of the meal.

The whole wheat baguette didn’t seem exciting, just very rustic looking. Yet, as the butter cover was lifted, I could tell we’re in for a treat seeing the shiny golden hue. Sure enough, the butter’s made in-house and has a rich creamy finish, only made better when slathered onto the warm, hot, crusty baguette.

Upon seeing our empty plates, our server asks if we’d like more bread. Exhibiting some self control, I decided against it but did keep the plate in case another hunk of baguette was needed after the main. Thankfully, I didn’t fill up on more carbs as the le pithivier was huge!

Cut tableside, the golden puff pastry revealed two beef slices sandwiching foie gras. Topped with duxelles and a thin spinach layer, it’s a decadent beef Wellington. Because of the various layers and the fat from the foie gras, it was also extremely juicy and so flavourful that it really didn’t need the concentrated beef jus.

The hefty main was paired with a king mushroom salad, pickled shimeji mushrooms, and an herb custard. I really needed these blasts of acid and freshness to cut through the beef Wellington’s richness.

At this point, I was stuffed, even leaving portions of the puff pastry untouched. Yet, as the la griotte arrived, I still took a bite. At first glance, I thought it’d be a sweet I’d leave behind as chocolate and fruit (especially cherry) is detestable. But the light Morello cherry centre complimented the Armagnac foam nicely and the crispy toasted coconut nibs added a nuttiness that made it less cordial cherry and more like a boozy Eton mess.

Not only was the le citron olive oil cake pretty but also tasty with a thin cake base working  to keep the creamy citrus custard together. Lemon desserts can sometimes be too sour or too sweet, Lucie’s was nicely balanced and refreshing. On the side, a frozen lemon adorned with a lemon rosemary gelato, as if the tart wasn’t already enough.

For those who love chocolate the le chocolate noir is a firebomb of Valrhona Guanaja dark chocolate. The spiky flower encapsulating passionfruit and topped with a mango sorbet.  

The last arrival was a jewelry box of mignardises, each one deliciously different. We’re told to pop the entire chocolate ravioli into our mouth, but it doesn’t ooze out like water, rather like a luscious mousse.  The macaron was so delicate that I could hardly grasp it without it starting to crumble creating a bite that’s a cross between cake and macaron, the lightest and moistest one I’ve ever tried. And lastly, a chocolate cookie with a ganache centre and a nutty finish.

Lucie is a hidden gem I’m almost afraid to tell people about. Stumbling in with a last minute, day of reservation on a Saturday, we even saw walk-ins being seated… although the dining room eventually filled. With such delicious dishes I’m surprised it isn’t busier. Oh well, more beef for me.