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| - The short version: absolutely *smashing* food; badly-made, piss-warm martinis; almost deliberately negligent service; the whole in a delightful riverside setting.
I live nearby and have been eating here for years, off and on, and the pasta's always been reliable, if not downright memorable. Hadn't been in a while. So, when a friend offered to treat me to a late lunch this past Sunday, I decided a bowl of linguine by the river, al fresco, at Pasta Andrea would do nicely.
I'd had serviceable gin martinis here a few years back, and felt confident in ordering them for my friend and me while we perused the menu. Mistake. The proportions tasted right, as in, there was definitely vermouth in them, and they were served in proper cocktail glasses. However, they came with olive instead of the requested lemon, they came with *lime wedges* as well, and they certainly hadn't been stirred with or shaken over ice. Jesus H. Christ, but this is the absolute worst town to be a martini drinker in. I should have stuck to Campari & tonic. We drank them anyway, because we both wanted booze in us.
Ordering food was easy. Mademoiselle spotted a salmon spaghetti in rosé sauce on the table d'hote and need no further options, whereas I went with an à la carte mashup of linguine al pesto novello. Market salad for her, arugula salad for me. Asked for an order of bruschetta to nibble on, but was told it wasn't on for lunch; only for supper. Odd. A couple of glasses of Sangiovese topped off our orders. I find it goes well with pesto sauce.
Bread arrived, one roll each. Looked like they came from the corner dépanneur, but they were immediately consumed. Bread barge was bussed and never refilled.
Our water glasses were infuriatingly small, considering we were dining outdoors on such a bright-hot day. Getting refills involved standing up and attracting a waiter's attention every time, and once I had to go inside to ask. We kept draining our glasses, and they kept not refilling them. Somewhat maddening, considering the place was only filled to 30% capacity.
Our salads arrived quickly, and immediately made amends for the poor drinks and lack of bread and water. Both were huge, near-overflowing platefuls of visibly fresh vegetables. Not a wilted leaf in sight. The light oil-and-vinegar dressing on my arugula salad was *perfect*, and the cheese shavings were delicious as well. Mademoiselle's mixed greens and tomatoes disappeared down her pie-hole like Flight 19 before I could blink, and she pronounced it excellent.
The main courses followed after a reasonable interval. Again, full-sized portions. My friend's salmon spaghetti seemed to meet expectations- normally a gabby little creature, she lost all power of speech while she gorged like a lemon shark devouring a nest of eels. My own plate surpassed expectations. The pesto novello was a basic green pesto with the addition of rehydrated sun-dried tomatoes. They used actual pine nuts, too. The sauce was superb, needing only a bit of salt to make it one of the best pasta sauces I've tasted anywhere. My pasta itself was al dente, and the plate arrived *hot*. Ate all the bits of it, and felt I'd chosen damn well.
I had to go inside again to get our plates bussed and ask for a dessert menu. Mademoiselle being addicted to tiramisu, reading it took her all of five seconds. Then we were told they'd run out of tiramisu and they were making a fresh batch. "Should be no more than ten minutes." She was undeterred and agreed to wait. I opted for a glass of grappa. The tiramisu in fact arrived in about three minutes, and was very beautifully served in a chilled cocktail glass- a variational presentation that did away with all but one of the lady fingers. Mademoiselle's eyeballs positively bulged as she tasted the first spoonful. She gave it top marks for flavor, and said she had never had one that tasted so fresh. Licked her glass clean like an anteater.
Had to go back inside again to ask for the bill. And then again, to ask for the credit card to be taken away and swiped. And neither of us was being Type A impatient about things, either. They were really taking way too long between peeks at us, even by Montreal's very shitty standard of acceptable restaurant service. In New York City, these guys would have been raked over within thirty minutes, live on twitter.
Restroom: Clean, perfectly usable, but a bit messy.
This'd be a four-star review if the cocktails and the service had been even near acceptable, because the food that day was all top-quality, and the riverside view from the porch was idyllic. The waiters and busboys were unfailingly well-mannered, too- when we saw them. It's just that they seemed blissfully unaware of our presence throughout the entire meal except when they needed to bring out a plate.
Will probably go back at some point, strictly for the food and the setting. Service will decide if it's my last visit.
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