Hidden inside an art gallery, Le Serpent plays the card of discretion. From the outside, the place is understated, giving the impression of an abandoned factory (something I would later confirm, as it is indeed a former foundry). A large dark door opens into a raw and striking space. A long bar with about ten seats stretches beneath distorted pipes, an artwork called “Le Serpentaire” by Patrick Coutu, echoing the industrial and artistic identity of the venue. The long, narrow room reveals a multitude of tables and paintings hanging on the walls, much like in an art gallery.

My experience at Le Serpent

For the starter, I followed the recommendation: a mushroom tartlet with porcini mousse, veal jus, and marsala. It arrived with a slightly imprecise presentation, the cream spilling over the side. On the palate, the tartlet is lightly crisp, yet sturdy enough to hold the richness of the veal jus. The salad leaves placed on top feel somewhat anecdotal, almost unnecessary. But quickly, everything comes into balance: the slightly melted leeks bring a surprising acidity, almost like pickles, that cuts through the richness of the particularly generous veal jus. The earthy depth of the mushrooms is extended by crispy shallots, offering a long and persistent finish.

For my main, I chose the bucatini with confit pork ribs, ’nduja, black garlic, and soy, a rich dish that showcases the strengths of the restaurant’s Italian cuisine. The bucatini are perfectly cooked, al dente as expected. The pasta, arranged somewhat imperfectly on the plate, is elevated by the spicy intensity of the generously seasoned ’nduja. The pork, though not visually prominent, deeply infuses the sauce with a richness reminiscent of a slow-cooked ragù. The black garlic and soy sauce extend the flavors with subtlety.

The real gamble of the evening clearly lay in the dessert. The pear and quince crostata with spiced mulled wine and parmesan ice cream intrigued me as soon as I read it on the menu. The mulled wine, transformed into a sweet jelly, surrounds the tartlet. The parmesan ice cream is surprising, very sweet at first, only revealing its savory character on the finish. Yet the balance works. The perfect bite creates a true explosion of flavors.

In the end, the bill came to around one hundred Canadian dollars, including a pint of beer.