Auberge du Pommier

Edward, Ronsee, and I went to Auberge du Pommier last night and indulged in their tasting menu for dinner:
Amuse-bouche — Seared ahi tuna with tuna tartare and oyster aioli
To start the meal, drinks (the boys opted for the wine service, whereas I opted for iced tea, being the teetotaler I am) and bread service featuring classic French baguette, rye bread, and a most addictive apple bread, along with a cow's milk ricotta spread drizzled with honey, and a little bowl of green olives. Then, the amuse-bouche: a gorgeous piece of seared ahi tuna with plush tuna tartare and a creamy oyster aioli. I always find the saddest thing about amuse-bouches is their size. I mean, I realize that's the point, to have a tiny bite-sized dish presented by the chef to simultaneously offer a glimpse into the chef's preparation of food and whet your appetite for the meal to come. But they are often so damn tasty that you wish you had about 34 more of them, and this one was no exception. Le sigh.
Foie Gras — Mousse of foie gras, white soy gelée, Meyer lemon curd, and black sesame Génoise
First course of the Menu Gourmand: foie gras. Now, it must be said, I'm not typically a huge fan of foie gras. Like, if it's there, of course I'll eat it, but it's not something I ever feel like ordering on my own or getting added to my meal. The version at Auberge du Pommier is almost like savoury dessert: there's a base of black sesame sponge cake with velvety foie gras mousse in the centre and a thin layer of white soy gelée on top, dotted with Meyer lemon curd and a flurry of crunchy sesame puffs and shiso leaves. It's pretty much a French-Asian fusion dish. A variation of this dish was the winning plate at the Canadian Culinary Championships, and I can appreciate the complexity of flavours and textures, and the originality and artistry that went into creating this dish. The mild nutty sweetness of the black sesame génoise and white soy gelée compliment the saltiness of the foie gras, the lemon curd adds a bright tart contrast, and the sesame puffs and shiso leaves add a lovely textural contrast. And it's beautifully presented, of course. But... it hasn't really changed my mind about foie gras. I guess my palate just isn't that refined yet.
Fruits de Mer — Butter-poached king crab, pickled garlic, Boston lettuce, and black bean condiment
The second course of the night was the seafood dish, aptly named Fruits de Mer. The actual seafood part of this dish presumably changes on a regular basis, since the menu originally states, "butter-poached market shellfish," so I assume as they use what's in season and bought fresh that day. We ended up getting king crab, for which you will hear no complaints from me. Crab prepared fresh and I don't actually have to put in the work to de-shell it? Yes, please! The crab meat was plump, fleshy, and tender, poached perfectly and simply in butter. Paired with crisp pickled garlic slices, slightly sweet Boston lettuce leaves, and a hint of tangy black bean sauce. Classic French with a twist. This was the unanimous favourite dish of the night.
Doré Jaune — Great Lakes walleye, country ham, crispy escargot, ramp butter, and quail egg
The third course is the fish dish, for which they use the doré jaune, or walleye fish. A most dainty-looking sunny-side-up quail egg sits upon the juicy slab of fish, with three escargot topped with a sliver of country ham surrounding it, all sitting in a pool of rich ramp butter. You poke the egg so that the silky yolk runs down the the fish, which is so plush, so soft, it's almost melt-in-your-mouth but simultaneously has the most gorgeous crisp golden exterior (Ronsee said it was "the most perfectly cooked fish" he'd ever had in his life). The escargot, with a nice soft chew and a subtle crisp exterior, is paired with slivers of just-salty-enough cured country ham for a nice contrast in flavour. All of it is ensconced in a smooth, rich ramp butter sauce that is so addictive you kind of want to just lick your plate after even though you're in a fancy restaurant and it would be such a faux pas if you did.
Agneaux — Braised Cumbrae Farms lamb, white anchovy, Picholine olive, and sauce bagna càuda
The fourth course is the meat dish which, on this season's menu, is a preparation of lamb. The lamb is braised until impossibly juicy and tender, stripped into pieces and then re-assembled into this log-like form, drizzled with bagna càuda sauce, topped with mild Picholine olives and cute round pea-like vegetables, and paired with white anchovy and arugula purée. I was kind of confused as to why there was a random piece of anchovy in there, but it actually compliments the slightly gamey flavour of the lamb really well. Delicious and beautifully presented, though we all agreed we would've preferred if the lamb was served as a whole piece of meat rather than shredded (though, to be fair, taking the meat apart allows it to better absorb surrounding flavours).
"Mint Julep"
Most fine dining restaurants give you a palate cleanser before the dessert course, presumably to prepare your taste buds for the shift from savoury to sweet. Auberge du Pommier's current palate cleanser (they change this every season as well) is a play on a mint julep cocktail: a sweet vanilla-mint ice milk in finely crushed spearmint ice that look like sugar crystals, all presented in a little spherical bowl (I wonder who buys these bowls thinking, "Now, that would be perfect for a palate cleanser"?). Light, sweet, refreshing, with a nice textural contrast between the creamy ice milk and the crunchy ice crystals — really, the perfect palate cleanser. 
Napoléon — Hazelnut whipped cream with dark chocolate, dark chocolate croquette, and chocolate-orange gelato
And then, finally, the fifth and final course, dessert! The dessert on the Menu Gourmand is merely described as a "tasting of chocolate." It includes three main components. The first one is a bed of dark chocolate cookie crust piped with a hazelnut and caramel whipped cream surrounding a centre of more dark chocolate cookie crumble and topped off with a solid dark chocolate disk (if you take off the disk, the whipped cream is piped into a cute flower design). The second one is a dark chocolate croquette, which was my personal favourite: dark chocolate in between crispy wafers, deep-fried and coated in crushed hazelnuts. When you bite into that croquette, it oozes out warm hazelnutty dark chocolate akin to Nutella. Glorious. The third component is a chocolate gelato, rich and creamy with a hint of orange; but after both the chocolate disk and the croquette, it seemed almost too sweet for my taste. Like, chocolate overload. Then again, I'm not a massive chocolate lover. Chocolate addicts would probably feel like they died and went to heaven.
Mignardises — Mini cannelé
Along with our coffees, a small plate of mignardises — a sort of post-dessert petit four. I'm not sure if they change it up every night, but they had mini cannelés for us on this particular evening. So much more imaginative than, say, a macaron for a petit four. For those who have never had one, a cannelé is a French pastry with a soft custard-y centre and a thick, caramelized crust akin to burnt sugar (the first time I had one was at Dominique Ansel Bakery in New York last year). These ones had a great crunchy exterior with a lightly vanilla-scented custard centre. Not too sweet, and goes incredibly well with tea or coffee. A lovely ending to a truly indulgent French meal.

The atmosphere, while definitely upscale (when you walk in, all your senses will indicate to you: luxury!), had a very mellow, cozy vibe to it. I like that it's not bright, but still well-lit (great for photos!), and that the seats are lounge chairs — they know that eating here is an event and should never be rushed so a comfortable, relaxing chair is a must (our dinner spanned over three hours). Of course, service was absolutely perfect here. Everyone is incredibly informative and helpful, very attentive but not cloying or hovering, extremely polite and accommodating. Our server was especially fantastic: he had an answer for ever single question we had (Ronsee jokingly asked what plant was sitting on our table, and he made sure to find out what it was — a type of succulent, as it turns out), made sure we had everything we needed at all times (I saw something that looked like a tea leaf floating in my water, and the moment he noticed that I was noticing it, he rushed to the table to whisk it away and brought a new glass for me within 30 seconds), and was really quite humourous and charming. We were the last ones in the restaurant (our reservation was at 8:30, which is the last seating), but even after we paid the bill, he still asked if we wanted more coffee or water and never made us feel rushed to leave. I think this is what really sets a regular upscale restaurant and a memorable one apart. Auberge du Pommier is one of Toronto's most well-known and most refined restaurants, so there's a lot of hype surrounding it. I went with high expectations and am glad to report that they were all met and even exceeded. If you have the money for it, Auberge du Pommier is definitely worth trying at least once.


Auberge du Pommier
4150 Yonge Street
North York, ON M2P 2C6
(416) 222-2220