I once heard someone say that August is the Sunday of months and I couldn’t agree more. It’s a perfect August day when I walk over to Taverne in Westmount of Montreal where I’m meeting owner, operator, and Executive Chef Stephen Leslie. Known for many accolades— among them is how he and his partners built Monkland Taverne in a neighbouring burrow of Montreal. Later this would become the introduction to another thriving location, serving immaculate food reliable for its excellence and where the atmosphere welcomes you back again and again like an old friend.
The wind is just a tad crispy but not enough to have us in full fall just yet and I walk in to Taverne in Westmount early in the day. This is the part of this project that always gets me so excited. Being at a restaurant while it’s closed to the public feels exclusive in the same way it felt to see your elementary school teacher at the supermarket on a Saturday. Something about is weird but in the best possible way. Stephen Leslie, Executive Chef, owner and operator of Taverne greets me with an enthusiastic handshake and I settle into a booth. I’m immediately thrown back to the many moments where I’ve dined here with friends and family. We’ve celebrated occasions, here and had big important conversations. I tasted my first white sangria at Taverne as a newly turned eighteen year old who thought of myself as a lady of leisure with my college friends. Even still now, Taverne delights in the same way.
Stephen and I sit across from one another as I power on the mic and he pours me a fresh glass of bottled water. The cracking bottle foreshadows the cracking open of Stephen who I somehow prompt to cry a total of four times during this interview. (Sorry again Stephen!)
Anthony Bourdain—The Great—stares back at me from a print on the wall and I’m eager to hear more about Stephen’s story.
Light on, water poured, I start with: So what inspired you to create one of Montreal’s most notable restaurants?
He laughs, out of the gate with a big question—but it’s true. How does one create a legacy of food? I’ve been pondering this so much this year I feel like I’m going mad but his answer astounds as he takes us back to his days as a little kid cooking out of instinct and survival rather than out of hospitality and excellence. His voice cracks and I wonder if we should turn the mic off but we pause and keep going. There’s talk about how he grew up and how food introduced itself to him before he could even try to introduce himself to it.
And then there are moments, like we all have in life that influence us. Like the time Stephen’s first serious girlfriend introduced him to her parents, only for her father to inquisitively ask Stephen what his goals are and how he planned to provide for his daughter. A question any parent would want to know about I’m sure, but this one in particular sends Stephen straight in to the fray of cooking school.
We talk about opportunities that come up and how to discern if they’re the right ones.
“Japan will always be there.” Stephen says recounting the time it came up for him to attend culinary school there but where he instead took a separate route that led him to find his way into a Taverne that was not yet the one we know it as today.
Back to the food and the ways in which Stephen makes all of his patrons, even the most picky feel well at home. He walks me through how his kitchen is staffed and organized. How he identifies when a chef is ready to step up and learn. Another moment of his voice cracking. Oh shit not again, he’s going to think I’m a monster I think to myself looking around for a napkin.
No sooner do I try to find one does Stephen re-compose himself. “I’m a passionate guy, I care about my restaurant, and I care about my staff.” He says one hand on his chest, the otherclutching the booth. The most touching thing I’ve noticed out of this entire project is the remarkable ways in which chefs and restaurant owners highly rate their staff and the people who they cook for.
Back to the crucible moments that initiate a Montreal staple, and a fulfilling career of food. After graduating culinary school in Paris Stephen finds his way back to Montreal where he promptly rides his bike to Chef Normand Laprise’s Toqué where his imagination gets blown open. He’s not working there—no not this time. Instead, he’s scanning the menu, memorizing it in the days before camera phones and the internet to go home and attempt to recreate the dishes he’d seen.
Normand Laprise certainly has a chokehold on this city I think to myself. Dually noted is the resilience that Stephen has, coupled with his passion for excellence. This is how Taverne is a legace space that we know as today. There’s something about dining here that immediately gives you the impression you’re not swimming in the shallow end anymore. Here is where excellence, relevancy, innovation, and legacy meet at an intersection of deep culinary pride and satisfaction.
One thing I’ll never forget from this conversation is the next touching moment where Stephen tells me how opening Taverne has him recognize the importance of being present and the inevitable passage of time. When he initially opened his doors couples dined in for date nights that would soon turn into anniversaries. These would turn into their children’s birthday parties, and later celebrations of graduations, drivers licenses, more first dates—rinse and repeat.
The thing is, it’s not just any old neighbourhood joint. Taverne (both on Monkland and in Westmount) tows the immaculate line between comfort and innovation. Classics exist and there’s room for new twists and innovative notions that keep you going back for more.
“You know, you hear about so and so who is now gluten free— so we gotta deal with that. But you know, we will because they’ve been eating here for twenty years.” He explains with a cheeky smile and a look that says what are ya gonna do anyway?
Before closing out we take a minute to observe the current landscape of food. Most places cater towards concepts or practicality. That’s to say, you’re either trying the new Japanese California fusion place or you’re ordering Uber eats. While the former is finding it’s identity and can be interesting, and the latter can be practical. We ponder what that means for truly excellent cooking and where that will live in a generation of instant gratification.
There’s definitely an air of privilege involved in fine dining, and yet Stephen didn’t grow up in a totally privileged way. His story starts as an underdog faced with choices from a wildly young age. So when you think about what this means, is hope really lost for the fine dining experience?
We take a second to weigh out the heaviness of that. I am hoping I don’t make Stephen cry again and am delighted to see that, that’s not the case. There’s an optimism here. One that is realistic and acknowledges the state of the world by a person and place that has maintained the progress and forward movement of technology, information, and a looming staffing crisis, too.
And yet—his co-owner walks in, they shake hands and talk about the upcoming wedding they’re designing the menu for.
People like to eat, and at Taverne the kitchen knows that.
Special thank you to Stephen Leslie for your time and support, it was such a pleasure to meet you in person and learn about how you’ve created such a beautiful restaurant experience.
Bon Appetit! xx
Erika
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