Ph. 726-7585
Years ago an immigrant Bulgarian couple opened a small
bistro at
On a recent visit I got a kick out of The Pepper Mill’s
slogan that appears on the front of the menu. It read, “haute cuisine without
the haute attitude.” That’s a shibboleth
I could actually identify with. I have eaten great food in fancy restaurants
with “attitude,” restaurants where it was de rigueur to dress to the nines and
be deferential toward the sommelier. At the same time I couldn’t help thinking that
the experience would have been so much more enjoyable if I had been able to
dress down a little and not been afraid to pick up the wrong fork. I had no
fears at The Pepper Mill from the moment our friendly adept server, Mary Lynn
Bernard, brought us our menus to the moment we left with our bellies full.
The Pepper Mill, although small, accommodated 40 seats and
about 12 tables with royal blue cloths and stylish stainless flatware. Above
many tables hung lamps with conical shades made from fly screen. A quite full
tall metal wine rack rested against one wall above which hung a couple of oil
paintings by French colourist, Jean Claude Roy. I thought the rich paintings
were a positive addition and made the room seem very much like an authentic
French bistro. The same wall also featured a large abstract mural, a geometric
design of squares and bright colours. A mirrored wall, opposite the mural,
created an impression of the restaurant being larger than its actual size.
My companion and I enjoyed two very good appetizers. First came a very aromatic Thai lobster soup of clear broth with
pieces of sweet lobster meat, sweet red and green pepper, onion, julienne
carrot and noodles. It was highly spiced with hot pepper that kicked in after
swallowing. Initially I tasted the wonderful sweetness of the major ingredients
that made the soup glide down my throat like quicksilver. Then came a kickback I wasn’t ready for. It was as if a couple of
booster rockets had been fired-up in my gullet. I imagined myself a fire-breathing
dragon feeling capable of setting alight anything in front of me merely by
breathing on it. This soup was not for the faint-hearted - it gave my sinuses
the best clearing-out they’ve had in years. I did enjoy it even though the
lobster meat was less than delicate and the thermal index was purple - at
least.
The Pepper Mill’s salad of baby greens and mixed greens
tossed in aged balsamic vinaigrette, Stilton and roasted nuts
topped with a marsala-poached pear was extraordinarily flavourful and
beautifully textured. The slightly coarse texture and sweetness of warm Bosc
pear slices contrasted beautifully with melting, creamy, tart Stilton and the
crunch of pecans and aggressively fresh greens. I did wonder why the pear was
not tinged red from the
Following a strong opening the meal continued in a similar
vein. The Pepper Mill’s baked salsa-encrusted halibut was moist with
enhancement from the flavours and acidity of a basic salsa. However, the salsa
was more of a topping than a crust with no telltale signs of baking, at least
not uncovered baking. The halibut portion was very generous but still had
support from some grilled produce - sweet pepper, asparagus and pineapple -
placed on and around a large rice timbale.
I’m a curry lover who found little to criticize in The
Pepper Mill’s lamb curry. Spooned around yet another large rice timbale the
curry was a dense yet creamy liaison of subtle Indian curry flavours that was
also remarkably fruity. I devoured spoonful after delicious spoonful of curry
mixed with bits of the white basmati rice timbale.
Happily, server Mary Lynn Bernard informed us that The
Pepper Mill makes all of its own desserts. Surprisingly, this is becoming less
and less the case for restaurants around town. To be clear, it’s one thing if
they are being made fresh daily for restaurants by a qualified baker. However,
many restaurants have chosen to serve frozen cheesecakes and the like that come
from large food factories. That is altogether different. I much prefer dessert
made fresh, even if it’s something as guileless as a baked Granny Smith apple
stuffed with walnuts, brown sugar and lots of butter.
My “in-house” meal capper at The Pepper Mill came in the
form of a Grand Marnier crème brulee. It was just about perfect. The brulee top
was dark and tasted hard and sweet and smoky. Underneath, anxious to break free
from its candied top restraint was a veritable Vesuvias of opulent creamy
filling. It was obviously made by someone who knew what he or she was doing. My
only criticism was that the filling lacked any orange or Grand Marnier flavour,
a significant fact given the dessert’s full name.
We need more unpretentious bistros like The Pepper Mill -
with a solid desire to make delicious food and provide good service. If nothing
else they have proven that it is possible to meet that goal without cutting too
many corners.
Dinner for two at the Pepper Mill - with four glasses of
wine and tip – cost $103.18.
Best Points:
The Pepper Mill has a casual atmosphere and pleasing ambience.
Areas for Improvement:
Be careful not to overcook the lobster in your Thai soup.
Ratings Category:
The Pepper Mill gets 8 out of 10 points.