Food and wine at Pearl Morissette
“Let’s colour outside the lines for the food and wine pairing”, says Jenna, our server at Pearl Morissette. “It’s all about good food and wine.” Jenna is wine-savvy, but not afraid to experiment, to have a bit of fun.
I was keen to try Pearl Morissette wines with my lunch. My husband and I were finishing our last savoury course and transitioning to sweet. So far, I had enjoyed the aromatic Irrévérence (my first taste of a skin-fermented or orange wine) and Lila, a blend of Cabernet Franc, Lemberger and Pinot Noir with lovely cherry and blackberry notes. At this juncture, Jenna suggested the Sputnik, a dry Riesling. Without hesitation I gave her a nod.
The winery does not offer tastings, so this was my chance to taste their elusive low-intervention wines. We learned throughout our meal about the animals raised on the property. Belted Galloway cow, pig, ring-necked pheasant and duck eggs elevated several of our dishes. Given this plot of land is home to many animals, they intentionally limit traffic onsite. When we arrived, we were greeted by a group of ducks waddling across the driveway.
Stopping on the driveway to let the ducks cross gave me a good opportunity to look up at the sleek rectangular building. The structure is solid black except for a small cut out for the windows. I am now sitting in the upstairs dining room, looking out these floor-to-ceiling windows at the ducks grazing on the wet grass below.
The weather is stormy. Thankfully, the modern interior exudes warmth: a long rustic wooden table down the centre of the room, wide plank reclaimed floors, soft pendant lights, simple glass vases filled with evergreens. The jazz music was loud when we first arrived, but as the tables fill up the music comfortably fades into the background with the hum of conversations from other relaxed diners. I love our cozy spot by the window, watching the droplets of rain on the glass and the activity on the farm below.
We feel well taken care of during our leisurely lunch. Each plate of food is introduced by attentive servers, sometimes the chefs themselves. The staff move seamlessly through the elongated space, which is anchored at one end by the industrial open concept kitchen.
My wine was the only decision for me to make. And by decision, I mean readily accepting Jenna’s suggestions. The nine course menu is a blind tasting menu and changes daily. It’s full of wonderful surprises from start to finish. I was more than content to watch (and taste!) the show unfold.
Wine pairings may colour outside the line. The food uses every colour in the box.
Olive green drops of dill oil. Black mustard greens. Vibrant orange roasted carrot. Warm caramel spring onions. Bright purple potatoes. Pale pink apple sorbet. Soft yellow ginger curd.
The colourful designs on our plates are fleeting. Each beautiful plate is returned to the kitchen clean. Every last morsel wiped up with the moist house-made sourdough bread.
No exaggeration. We cleaned our plates.
Jenna explains the winemaker’s mindset is to “let the grapes show the way”. I get the sense the chefs also let the menu be guided by the locally sourced and foraged ingredients around the property. Coaxing the grapes into beautiful wines, the ingredients into works of art on the plate. Both stimulating the taste buds. Our lunch is filled with many unique tastes: rich creamy duck egg over tender beef tartare, comforting creamy whey alongside an intensely sweet roasted carrot, pungent black garlic purée with pheasant, pine flavoured spicebush oil cleansing our palate with the apple sorbet. Textures are also intriguing, like the sunchoke cannoli, its skin made so crispy to emulate a flaky pastry.
My only regret is not taking the remaining hunk of crusty sourdough bread with me.
I am distracted by the view out my window. Three cows saunter into my field of vision. One has a thick white stripe, like a belt, around its torso. Must be the Belted Galloway.
