FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1997. All Rights Reserved.
The cat's meow
Le Chat Noir offers choices for all nine lives
by Patrick RenggerSuperstitions are funny things. Whether it is how you lace up your skates or not walking under a ladder, just about everybody has a couple tucked away in the corner of their id somewhere. And despite the fact the Goethe claimed that "Superstition is the poetry of life," I find that I rather concur with Russell, in that they are all more or less grounded in fear and the trembling we feel when facing the irrational forces that seem to control our lives.
My trouble is I can never seem to get all the superstitions right. Take the one about the black cat. Now is it unlucky to see one, or only if it crosses your path? Or is it unlucky if it doesn't cross your path? Maybe it's only if you encounter it on a Friday the 13th.
No such worries need fret one's brow, however, when the black cat involved is Le Chat Noir (2202 - 4th Street SW, phone 228-3346). Located in the old Café Med space, Le Chat Noir has extensively renovated the space and taken it upmarket. The restaurant is light and airy, with room for smokers and non, and is readily accessible to wheelchairs. Dinner consists of a high-end classic menu, but I decided to give the lunch a try. The lunch menu is a veritable Baedekers of world cuisine, with dishes from Greece, Lebanon, China, France, the Caribbean and North America, as well as some non-denominational dishes like smoked salmon croissant sandwiches ($9) or crab and dill soup ($5).
Skipping quickly over the jerk chicken, pork dumplings and perogies, my companion and I decided to be as international as possible without creating utterly bizarre combinations. Consequently, I ordered the hot and sour soup ($4) to start and she opted for the falafel balls ($5). The falafel was just as it should be - moist and lightly seasoned with a delicious tahini-based dressing. The soup was one of those dishes that tastes good at first, and then becomes increasingly irresistible the more you have.
Next up were the pan fried shrimp, which positively oozed succulence and taste. Lightly fried in garlic and butter (to hell with the cholesterol) they were a delight, although to be frank, and that is why I am paid the big bucks, the bread could have been fresher. Along with these fine delicacies my companion and I also split a chicken souvlaki ($7), which was also available for true Albertans in a beef version. Like the falafel, this had just enough hint of spices and peppers without being overwhelmed by them. The meal left us feeling satisfied and content without being bloated, just the way a good lunch should. And all of this was washed down by a decent Californian cabernet sauvignon, which made the prospect of the afternoon's work chores considerably less daunting.
Since Le Chat Noir has only recently swung wide its portals, reservations are probably not yet necessary for either lunch or dinner, but I suspect that will soon change. This is one black cat you are likely to cross the street to find, not avoid.
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