Indulge in doughy, "Montreal old school" pizza with upscale twists -- or opt for whatever else the kitchen concocts on any given day -- in a small, pomp-free setting with seats for about 30, on the edge of Griffintown. Dressed-up socialites, couples in jeans, families with toddlers, the clientele is varied, the dress code is lax and prices can be affordable if you stick to the mains: $45 for two (minus appetizers, taxes, tip and wine). But know when to book a table. Families and patrons looking for calm should reserve for the 7 p.m. sitting as lights go dim and music cranks up by 9 p.m.
Pre-Review Quiz: Where's the Best Pizza in Montreal?
In my humble case, there's only one place in Montreal that's managed to inspire pizza pie longing via its spongy crust and well-balanced, heartburn-free tomato sauce. But it's not a restaurant. It's a bakery, the modest, frills-free Boulangerie Marguerita. Its rectangular, Rome-style pizza rossa has been a Little Italy staple since 1910, and the bakery typically runs out of its "pizza al taglio" by 2 p.m. Daily. Otherwise, I can't say I've tasted pizza impressing me beyond "that's really good."
Then the plot, or should I say crust, thickened.
Of Chefs, Cooks and White Trash
Restaurant Jane pizza is, in the words of head cook Ryan Dixon, "old-style Montreal pizza inspired by greasy spoon pizzerias in Lasalle."
Photo © Evelyn ReidIn the land of Jane, "white trash" consists of tasteful, walnut-colored wood trimming and matching chairs, barmaid Sharon Ramesay's Montreal cityscapes settled against a brick interior, music ranging from Ella Fitzgerald to vintage Bowie to Duran Duran and a head chef -- don't call him chef, Dixon prefers "cook" -- trained by the likes of Joe Beef maestro Dave McMillan back in their Globe days at the turn of the century, when Garde Manger's Food Network TV star Chuck Hughes was one of the restaurant's bus boys.
So why does Dixon recoil when I call him a chef? He isn't comfortable with the title: "I'm tired of pretense attached to cooking," adding "any asshole who cooks a hamburger calls him or herself a chef." But isn't Dixon a chef? He effectively runs the kitchen, establishes the menu, manages the team ... no? Citing The Gazette article Chef Is Not A Casual Title, Dixon insists "I'm a casual cook."
And who's Jane? "She was my mom."
Pickles? On Pizza?!
But don't expect triangular slices at Jane. Pizza is served as an individual, doughy oval big enough to fill a hearty appetite (or doggy bag, I left with three). Half the fare suited vegetarians, the other half met carnivorous needs. One in particular, the "Schwartza," is pizza's answer to a Montreal legend: smoked meat sandwiches. Think real Schwartz's smoked meat with mustard, pickles and gruyère minus two slices of rye, atop a doughy, chewy, thick crust. I first cringed when I read the ingredients -- mustard? pickles? -- but all it took was one bite to turn me into a believer.
And the meatball entrée? Unusually tender, savory meatballs, they're based on his mother, Jane's unwritten recipe: "it's not an actual recipe, it's all in my head," Dixon said. "The secret's in the swine," he added, citing bacon as key, which I suspect only partially explains why "Mom's Meatballs" were leagues above what's supposed to be the best in Montreal. My two dining companions concurred.
As for the grilled octopus salad -- a mix of two half-inch thick tentacles paired with chorizo and potatoes marinated in honey, smoked paprika, olive oil and roasted garlic -- it was textbook tender with a gentle, stimulating burn on the way down. Delicious.
