When I open the door of Île Flottante, I immediately feel like I’m stepping into a garden. Fully glass-enclosed and filled with plants and flowers, the restaurant evokes a true living terrarium. The kitchen comes alive behind large glass windows, like a modern garden shed where every movement becomes part of the scene.

The restaurant’s name is said to be a nod to the city of Montreal and to Île Sainte-Hélène, where the chef’s father worked during the 1967 Expo. But don’t expect to necessarily find a floating island dessert on the menu. Instead, the concept takes you on a journey through a six-course fusion tasting menu, priced at $130 CAD, entirely built around seasonal ingredients, something I was about to experience firsthand.

My experience at Île Flottante Montreal

The meal begins with white asparagus from Belgium, served with a wild garlic hollandaise. The balance is immediate: the slight acidity of the asparagus perfectly offsets the rich, enveloping depth of the sauce. A subtle herbal note, reminiscent of chives, completes the dish beautifully. It’s a fully plant-based plate, served with pita bread, perfect for soaking up every last bit of sauce.

Next, the Gaspésie bluefin tuna sashimi marks a shift in tone. Marinated in soy sauce and served with a wasabi emulsion and red cabbage salad, the dish leans into Asian influences. The tuna is tender, finely sliced, with subtle herbal notes. It pairs well with the wasabi, which, unfortunately, remains too mild. The cabbage salad adds a pleasant crunch and extends the freshness of the dish.

The broccoli and celtuce dish, cut into small pieces and worked into a purée, accompanied by Alfred Le Fermier cheese and smoked bacon, is a true success, and my favorite of the evening. The balance is spot on. The vegetables are perfectly cooked, still slightly crisp with a light acidic freshness, complementing the thin slices of bacon, which are not greasy at all, all brought together by the cheese. I especially appreciated the long finish when managing to compose the perfect bite with all the elements.

The main course features guinea fowl glazed in an Asian style, presented in a striking red monochrome. The meat is hidden beneath a thin layer of lingonberry jelly, a local fruit that adds a sweet balance often found in Asian cuisine. It rests on an intense sauce that ties everything together, showcasing well-executed cooking. Beetroot and carrot continue this sweet-and-savory interplay.

Dessert begins with a small exotic bowl. The tapioca is creamy, topped with a gel of sea buckthorn and passion fruit that is both sweet and tangy. Caramelized banana pieces add depth and length on the palate, all finished with an oat milk foam. The dessert is cohesive and well-balanced when all elements come together in a single bite.

The final dessert, a chocolate tart served with raspberry coulis, raspberry sorbet, and vanilla ganache, is generous. The tart itself is excellent, and the classic chocolate-raspberry pairing works well. However, the overall composition lacks restraint in my opinion, with too much intensity in each component, which ultimately reduces the clarity of the dish.