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| - I had made it to the bar with two others in tow. The time is 2100. We landed in Montreal a day earlier in preparation for the appointment. We drank in excess in an effort to increase our gastronomic satiety for the next day. During the events right before zero hour, we had imbibed several beverages to escalate our appetite. The time had come.
At the bar, we are greeted by an incredibly attentive, and attractive, female. After receiving PDC's house brew, we order in succession three small plates and three large plates. She smiles as she is taking down the orders without a pause. That disarming smile may have ultimately been the coup de grace. We were never prepared.
Small plates of seared foie gras, bison tongue with tarragon, and braised tripe special had come our way and were dispatched in reasonable time. Somewhat surprised though, as we still had seemingly plenty of stamina after the first course, all of which were considered one of the richest appetizers ever encountered. After the plates cleared, three much larger plates descended in front of us as we unnervingly watch on. Then, a braised rib of bison arrived to our right.
We were in awe of the sheer size, larger than a forearm, until a braised pigs foot entered. And then without being able to assess the objective in adequate time, a man arrived with a can. Some explanation could be heard, but all of our senses had diverged to what emerged from the can. A tremendous lump of duck breast with a massive layer of its own fat plopped out, carrying a payload of foie gras within it.
With knives and forks withdrawn, we each attack an item individually. That proved to be disastrous. Within minutes, each of us began to sag away for backup. One by one, we would switch off and attempt to absorb the other piece. After 30 minutes elapsed, it was clear what the results would be. We laid down our arms and shed our whites. Our faces sully, my eyes sunken as I peer at her face from behind the bar. This time, she brandishes a smile unlike the one seen before. She makes a quip that brought our spirits back, and even made me laugh a little. Mercifully, she removes all of the plates and seals the contents in aluminum boxes.
What can be learned here? PDC will beat you. It will grind you into the ground. It will show you no mercy. But you're here. You're reading yet another review about Au Pied de Cochon. You're already a glutton for food punishment. You're looking for the weird, the intense, and the insanity, all the while savoring in its delight, just as I had. So send the email and go. You already know you have to.
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