I arrive in the evening, in front of a discreet, almost ordinary façade. Nothing from the outside could have hinted that behind these tall hedges of dried flowers hides one of Montreal’s most surprising Michelin-starred restaurants. Even less that I was about to be swept away by such a gustatory revelation.

Recently crowned with a star in the very first Quebec edition of the Michelin Guide, Mastard offers a blind-tasting menu of rare generosity: five courses for under $90, with the option to add a sixth, the now-famous bluefin tuna on lettuce tart, the dish that built chef Simon Mathys’ reputation.

The dining room is simple, almost raw, with a long bar running along one side and, in the back, another counter where the maître d’ orchestrates the room, the music, and the rhythm of the service. The background music is subtle and perfectly balanced, creating a calm atmosphere, a welcome contrast to the noisy chaos that often fills other dining rooms.

The menu changes often, so what I tasted will likely not be the same as what awaits you. But rest assured, the chefs adapt willingly to intolerances and preferences.

The journey begins with a small croquette filled with stracciatella, topped with a slice of cured beef. A simple, melt-in-your-mouth Hispano-Italian wink, the perfect opening bite. Then comes a dish from the sea, which ended up being my favorite of the evening (photo at the top of the article): scallops hidden under kohlrabi, draped in a blue butter sauce and a delicate pepper emulsion, with a slice of toasted bread on the side. Trout roe and samphire add acidity and balance. Dipping the bread into the sauces became a guilty, unforgettable pleasure.

Next, a dish both bold and perfectly balanced: lacquered cabbage, a pork sausage, and a sea urchin sauce. Three powerful ingredients, any of which could dominate a plate, yet here, so well measured that none takes over. A delightful surprise.

Then arrives Simon Mathys’ signature dish: his silky, dense lettuce tart crowned with exceptionally fresh bluefin tuna. The whole rests on a vinaigrette-like sauce that highlights the lettuce with elegance. A brilliant balance of freshness and depth, this dish alone explains why it has become a cult favorite.

The journey continues at sea with a Gaspésie halibut, served with tomato and basil condiments. Mediterranean markers intertwined with an Asian-inspired miso and goji berry sauce. Halibut, often strong in flavor, is here softened by a perfect cuisson and elevated by al dente poultry agnolotti, a surprise twist arriving toward the end of the plate, replacing the bread and encouraging one last round of sauce-dipping.

Then comes a generous Quebec-raised poultry dish, paired with a corn condiment and a shrimp-butter sauce. A crisp-skinned piece is even tucked under a spinach leaf, a hidden treat. A rich dish, perhaps a touch too complex for my taste, where I would have preferred more simplicity.

For dessert, refinement returns: strawberries in an elderflower syrup, paired with a vanilla and Earl Grey mille-feuille. Crisp, melting, sweet without excess, the perfect balance to close the meal.

As I step out, I know I’ll be back. Mastard is a true homage to Quebec’s terroir, elevated by an exceptional mastery of sauces, each one deeper, more surprising, more indulgent than the last. I loved the bold land-and-sea combinations, and the human touch of dishes served directly by the chefs themselves.

Next time, it’s decided: I’ll bring my own baguette, just to prolong the guilty pleasure of mopping up every last drop of those incredible sauces.