TASTE TEST: Culinary hybrid just OK but it stills looks bound for success
Province
From classic bistro to trattoria, take your pick at Mon Bella Bistoria, where chef Brian Fowke and owner Brad Roark team up to offer French and Italian dishes.
Mon Bella Bistoria
Where: 1809 West 1st Ave., Vancouver
Payment/reservations: Major credit cards, 604-569-2742
Drinks: Fully Licensed
Hours: 5 p.m. – late, Tues. – Sun., Closed Mon.
Like Donnie and Marie’s little bit country, little bit rock ’n’ roll, Mon Bella boasts both Italian and French cuisine and so they call themselves a bistoria, as in bistro and trattoria fused into one. They leave no pizza stone or duck liver unturned in their quest to please all those Eurocentric thinkers who won’t be satisfied until they’ve stuck a snail or a Portobello between their teeth.
Paid a visit with Peaches to this spiffy new place that has all the sleekness of a sea lion groomed for mating season under its highceilinged edifice. Banquette and booth seating, bottles of wine decorating the room as well as climbing the back wall like the vines the vino came from, black-and-whites photos of quaint European scenes and a bar with all the futuristic neo-classical curves that the 21st century can throw its way.
So, all-in-all, not a bad spot, and with the lineage in the kitchen via Chef Brian Fowke, formally of Rare and Metro, and the experience of owner Brad Roark, who was put through the paces at CinCin, Tapastree and Araxi, this culinary hybrid seems earmarked for success.
Alas, it was not to be for me that evening although neither was it a failure. It was just OK. Began with an appetizer of Ravioli di Zucca a Mano ($12), otherwise known as pumpkin and squash ravioli with roasted red pepper and goat cheese. Along with that we tried the house salad with mixed greens, brie croutons and golden beets with a tarragon vinaigrette ($9).
First, let me say about the ravioli that I fail to see the appeal of foam on food. It’s unappetizing, it’s not tasty and it puts me in mind of the unwholesome suds that wash up on the edge of the sea on a hot summer day. So the foam threw me but I’m not put off that easily. Still, the flavour of the pumpkin squash ravioli was severely lacking. None of the earthy sweetness or textural contrasts I usually enjoy, so we moved on to the salad.
Salad was very nice and the golden beets especially tasty and the only failing point was the absence of the brie croutons that Peaches and I were so looking forward to.
For mains, I chose the beef short rib with porcini risotto, Comte cheese and roasted cioppolini onions ($21). Meat was simultaneously as tender and lascivious as the look Sophia Loren gave Anthony Perkins in Desire Under the Elms, the risotto creamy with its fungus undercurrent but somehow the rich sauce pooling around the plate didn’t live up to its visual promise. I was hoping for more of a deep, bittersweet, hefty herbed offering as the deep cherry-red sauce hinted at but again something was missing.
Peaches opted for steak and frites ($25) with a sautéed strip loin, nicely crisped and salted fries, a Provençal-style cooked tomato and red wine shallot compote.
My only complaint was the accompanying geriatric-looking green beans had more wrinkles than Joan Rivers before her latest facelift and botox treatments. Otherwise it was good.
So if you’re looking for classic bistro or trattoria fare from escargots to veal you’ll fine it here. But let’s be frank. During the Second World War, there was no love lost between these two countries as Mussolini played patsy to the Third Reich. Resentment and revenge burns deep and it seems at times the battle is still being waged here on the plates.
