"Appetizing things do come in small packages"

     “Do you ever get tired of eating rich food?” whispered Carolyn. “You must, really.” “Nope,” I replied, inserting another piece of bread in my mouth to stifle my laughter. What I am tired of is mediocre food. I would be delirious if I never had to face another vaguely global menu, laden with illconceived combinations of ingredients in a rush to be cutting edge — badly prepared, overdescribed and garnished with all the subtlety that Phyllis Diller uses to do her makeup.

     I would be thrilled if I never encountered someone who didn’t know the menu, responded to my enquiries with the words “I don’t know” and then made no effort to find out again. What I am tired of is servers who don’t want to serve, who won’t make eye contact with you until that critical moment when, smiling, they ask you if you want any change. Fortunately, none of this happens at Matisse.

     Here is proof of just what can be done with a tiny room. The walls are bathed in buttery hues and lighting is subdued but effective. Carefully chosen music plays softly in the background, colourful flower arrangements adorn tables set with Villeroy Boch china and carefully folded serviettes. It’s pretty, yet not overly feminine — the kind of place you might happen upon on a Paris side street — smiling every time you thought of it for years afterward.

     Chef Peter Heptonstall oversees a menu composed of French classics along with a few of his own creations. Escargot Bordelaise, laden with double smoked bacon, shallots, garlic and fresh herbs is as tempting as slices of smoked tuna loin, served with toasted brioche and lemon caper cream cheese.

     Carolyn and I struggled a little with our selections, but for all the right reasons. Everything on the menu is appealing, a fact only enhanced by owner John Phillips’s enthusiastic descriptions, offered to each table in a manner that makes you feel like a regular customer even if you have never crossed the threshold before.

     After an amuse bouche of crab and gruyere on a disc of puff pastry, Carolyn began with the appetizer special, a generous serving of plump mussels, steamed with white wine, garlic and a bevy of fresh herbs — a perfect example of Heptonstall’s stated aim to create depths of flavour without being ostentatious.

     I nearly succumbed to duck confit, served here with a garnish of lentils and rhubarb compote, but in the end I chose the fourcourse menu ($49). Beginning with that evening’s soup, a velouté thickened with a purée of garden vegetables, I was soon reminded of Heptonstall’s penchant for upping the ante when my salad of lightly dressed frisée arrived, garnished with double cream Brie en croute, phyllo being the pastry of choice.

     To eat classic French food without wine is a form of torture, in my opinion, and while you can spend hundreds of dollars on a bottle of wine here, you don’t need to. Tell Phillips or the equally charming server Brooke Levie what you would like to spend, and they will select something that won’t disappoint you.

     During another visit, I put myself in their hands to partake of the $30 wine pairings available with the set menu and enjoyed Pineau des Charentes with garlic and potato soup, Inniskillin Reserve merlot with rillettes (an indescribably luscious rendition of this rough paté, made in the traditional manner with pork belly, herbs and sea salt, served with caper berries, slivers of onion and toast), followed by a glass of Chateau Reysson Haut Medoc, the perfect accompaniment for a juicy filet mignon Bordelaise. Callebaut chocolate truffles and a compote of fresh strawberries enhanced with a touch of chili and fresh mint arrived with a glass of Muscat de Beaumes de Venise. Sigh.

     We selected a bottle of Cotes du Rhone la Vieille Ferme for a very reasonable $30 to go with our entrées. Carolyn was bemoaning the fact that she had eaten all of her mussels, noting that she had seen smaller main course offerings before, when she was presented with a shank of Australian lamb, braised with demi glace enriched with fines herbes, red wine and calvados. My steak au poivre was equally tender, panseared peppered medallions, flambéed with cognac and finished with demi glace and cream. Both were superb and served with an assortment of vegetables: duchesse potatoes redolent with truffle oil and essence of morels atop vivid green beans, purée of turnip garnished with a slice of gaufrette potato, asparagus spears, snow peas and baton carrots that affirm the quote from Georges Escoffier on the front of the menu with regard to the importance of presentation.

     “Classical French cooking is all about presentation, smell and taste. In France, life revolves around the table. Surprising to those who think of French food as complicated and elaborate, but the true essence of French cooking is bringing out the best in the ingredients ‘faites simple.’— Keep it simple!” If the old man himself were still alive, he would be impressed by a meal here.

     Another thing that stands out on the menu is a polite request that guests forward their cellphones to the reservation desk. It amazes me that people can be obnoxious enough to play games on their cellphones and take calls in such a place, but this occurred during our visit, marking the only unpleasant point in the evening. Despite filthy looks from other diners, the only adult at the table in question smiled indulgently at her teenage son, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were other people in the room. Fortunately, this was quickly handled by Brooke, who discreetly put a stop to it.

     Dessert was a generous créme brulée, served en cage, the elaborate presentation making both of us laugh with delight. Coffee and cognac made the perfect finale to a 3 ∕ hour meal. A visit to Matisse is a must. The level of excellence for both service and food is consistent. With appetizers between $8 and $15 and entrées around $30, it isn’t cheap, but it isn’t more expensive than any other fine dining establishment in Victoria, and is less expensive than some. Portions are ample to downright generous, carefully crafted from quality ingredients, and whether it is your 20th visit or your first, you will be treated with the same respect offered to all patrons. Such is the difference between eating and dining. I say, vive la différence."

Pam Grant, Victoria Times Colonist, May 10, 2007 P. D 12