Montreal's Not-Quite-French Allure By Gary Lee Washington Post Staff Writer Sunday, April 26, 1998; Page E01

You're never far from a bakery on the streets of of French-flavored Montreal. (By Gary Lee)

Somewhere between hearing the crowd going berserk over a recording of Quebecois pop star Celine Dion's "Cherche Encore," and watching the whole place get plastered on Molson ale, it was clear that the scene unfolding before me (and others I had observed in the streets of the city and the surrounding province of Quebec) would not take place in the same way in Paris or anywhere else in France. I could not pinpoint the reasons at the time, but I could feel them.

As an occasional visitor to this metropolitan area of 3.1 million, I had long since grasped that it -- and the province of Quebec -- are different in character from the rest of Canada.

For years I had believed that the difference was largely defined by the ties between Quebec and France. I had come to think of Montreal as a far-flung outpost of France.

In a city where two-thirds of the locals claim French as a first language, the windows of bakeries are laden with croissants, and fashionable women step onto the sidewalks as if from a page of Elle, the mistake is easy for a casual observer to make.

During a five-day visit to Montreal this month, however, I was hit between the eyes by the distinctive Quebecois, not-quite-French character of the place, an unusual combination of European joie de vivre and North American practicality. The Quebecois approach seemed to assert itself in the everyday life of Montrealers -- including the way they eat, dress and speak.

In a place settled and built alternately by French, English and Canadians, one particular skill of Montrealers is their ability to balance between the English and French languages as if on a tightrope.

Forty percent of Montrealers are bilingual with French and English; 15 percent speak English as a first language, according to official statistics.

The linguistic acrobatics practiced by locals caught my attention when I sat down in a cafe on the popular Rue St. Denis as the waitress took some time to size me up, trying to determine whether to speak English or French. Grasping that I was comfortable with both, she proceeded to switch between one and the other, without missing a beat. And when I stood up, she waved me off with the most Montreal of farewells: "Merci, bye."

Quebec has its own not-quite-French cuisine, too, a fact that occurred to me in visits to the fashionable Toque and other more down-to-earth restaurants.

The Quebecois go wild over dishes that would be difficult to find in France or other parts of Canada, sometimes for good reason. Among them are a thick pea soup, a meat pie know as Tourtiere and a chocolate cake smothered in a warm mocha sauce. And then there is poutine, a plate of french fries topped with melted cheese and covered with thick brown gravy. Even some foods that are more internationally known have acquired special local names: Quebec is the only place where a meat patty between two buns is called a hambougois.

The fashions of Marie St. Pierre, one of Canada's best-known young designers, and other hot local fashion mavens also seemed to reflect a peculiarly Quebecois flair.

During a chat in her boutique, St. Pierre explained that Quebecois culture is neither strictly French nor strictly North American.

"It is not that we have taken something from European styles and something from American styles and combined them," she said. "We are doing our own thing. Our northern climate requires us to protect ourselves against harsh weather, for example, and our fashions have to take that into account. What we do has clearly been influenced by European and American styles, but it is still our own thing." St. Pierre used some of her fashions to illustrate her point. Most memorable among them was a jacket made of crumpled black metal that could be shaped by the wearer into any imaginable form -- from formal evening wear to a fun party frock.

"It takes some imagination and a good sense of oneself to enjoy something like that," St. Pierre said. "I think women in Montreal have both these qualities.

Celine Dion may be the highest profile example of Quebecois phenomenon. She bounces back and forth between the French and English languages, preferring the former but apparently realizing the necessity of using the latter. A truly bicultural performer, she is admired as much by French speakers for her new hit "Pour Que Tu M'Aimes Encore" as she is by English speakers for her performance of the theme song from "Titanic."

She is nowhere more revered than in Montreal, where her concerts scheduled for the end of the year are already selling out, and young women rush about with their hair pulled back and drawn with an oversize pin in imitation of her hairdo.

The more I reflected on the unique character of Quebec, the more I wondered why it had failed to grab my attention before.

One answer may be that the Quebecois have begun to assert their identity with a new-found boldness in the past couple of years. Three years have passed since the Quebecois separatists narrowly lost a vote to secede from Canada.

The October 1995 referendum for independence resulted in a cliffhanger, with 49.5 percent voting in favor and 50.5 percent opposing.

Since then, the separatists have retreated from a shrill campaign to cut themselves off from Canada.

"You don't get the kind of headiness that you got a couple of years back," said David Wyber, an Anglophone Canadian who lives and works in Montreal. "The French-speaking Quebecois continue to be Quebecois, but they seem to be more accommodating."

"What the majority of those who voted for separation wanted, seemed to be not really separation but for Quebec to be factored more strongly into the Canadian equation," said Gille Bengle, a publicist for the city of Montreal. "They wanted to make clear that they are different from the rest of Canada, and for those differences to be acknowledged."

With the emergence of Quebec culture in Montreal and other parts of the province, many of those who voted for separation may be quietly achieving their goal.

To gather a sense of how French and North American styles merge and become something different in Montreal, a visitor could do no better than by starting with a walking excursion of the city.

My own tour began in the downtown section of the Rue St. Catherine and proceeded down the long boulevard past the spectacular Notre Dame Basilica and into picturesque Vieux Montreal, the city's old section. There is much along the way that would remind a well-traveled American of France and other parts of Europe. On the Rue Notre Dame, for example, there is the Hotel de Ville, the town hall where Charles de Gaulle stood on a balcony and made his famous "Vive le Quebec libre" speech in 1967. It is built in the 19th-century empire style popularized in France.

Most of the surrounding old city has a French ambiance. The Old Customs House on the Place Royale and the buildings around the old market area on the Place Jacques Cartier are also inspired by French 19th-century designs.

A bit farther afield, the boulevards St. Denis and St. Laurent, lined with sidewalk cafes, bear some similarity to Paris's St. Germain des Pres.

To a Frenchman, however, the look of Montreal would not likely recall Paris or other urban areas back home.

The reason is that it is built on a grid that's strictly North American in style. Like the streets of New York and Philadelphia, the main thoroughfares of Montreal run perpendicular to one another.

Paris and other French cities, in contrast, are designed around circles, with the major streets leading like spokes from the center. Washington, D.C., styled with the help of French architects, exemplifies this approach.

Guidebooks list Toque, the runaway favorite among Montreal epicureans, as a French restaurant. As someone who knows a thing or two about French food, however, I found the characterization ill-informed. Celebrated chef Norman Laprise regularly features some signature French dishes, such as a foie gras. But I found the creations of the young chef and his business partner, Christine Lamache, to be distinctly Quebecois in two senses. First, they are intent on taking the freshest products that are available locally, including vegetables and fish, and making masterpieces out of them.

Second, Laprise brings a North American inspired creativity to his cooking. Although trained in the French traditional style, he is refreshingly liberated from restrictions about what ingredients, spices, or dishes are supposed to go well together.

"I might have five different products put before me and will just use my gut feeling to say which of them I want to use together," he said.

The results are spectacularly original. My own feast began with a melt-in-the-mouth serving of warm goat cheese, offered on a bed of beet and apple juice. It was followed by a magret of canard, which was aged and simmered in a sauce. It was the best duck dish I have ever eaten.

At the end of my stay in Montreal, I could not help but reflect on the evening where I heard locals singing along with Celine Dion and gradually descending into Molson-inspired debauchery.

After some thought, I realized why the scene could never take place in France. First of all, they don't go wild over her or any other popular singer, at least not since the death of Edith Piaf. Second, even if they liked their beer, they don't allow themselves to get lost in it. Revelry of that kind, I concluded, is part of the Quebecois experience.

Where to Stay: Because Montreal hotels at all levels offer special weekend prices that can run as much 50 percent below regular rates, it's well worth checking around for availability. My picks:

Loews Hotel Vogue (1425 Rue de la Montagne, 514-285-5555). This is a luxury hotel with all possible amenities and extras. Rates vary with the season, but in early spring I was offered a great double for $130 (all prices quoted are in U.S. dollars).

Hotel Chateau Versailles (1659 Rue Cherbrooke W., 1-800-361-3664). Four town houses have been combined into a quiet guest house. The location is a few blocks from the center of downtown, but the price ($75 for a double including breakfast) is hard to beat.

Hotel Lord Berri (1199 Berri St., 1-888-363-0363). If you want to be near the funky St. Denis dining and shopping scene, this is your place. Doubles run about $80 a night.

Where to Eat: Le Paris (1821 St. Catherine W.) is a Montreal establishment offering superb traditional French food. I had a plate of asparagus in a wonderful lemon vinaigrette, followed by a succulent lotte in a lobster sauce. With wine, the tab came to about $35 for one.

At the fashionable Toque (3842 Rue St. Denis), chef Norman Laprise and co-owner Christine Lamarche are forging a new path in Quebecois cuisine. This is a place for celebration; I spent nearly four hours and about $70 for dinner for one, including wine.

Chez Clo (3199 Rue Ontario E.) is a low-key, out-of-the-way restaurant featuring the Quebecois version of diner food. Dinner for one was about $10.

You won't find Rotisserie Laurier (381 Laurier W.) in many guidebooks, but this bright, friendly restaurant serves what was described to me as the most typical of Quebecois lunches. I opted for a rotisserie chicken with a dipping gravy and a platter of French fries.For two, with soft drinks and dessert, the tab was $22.

What to Do: Les Deux Pierrots Boite aux Chansons (114 Rue St. Paul E.) is a night spot featuring popular Quebecois folk and pop singers. Best for French speakers who like to imbibe.

Boutique Marie St. Pierre (2081 Rue de la Montagne) is the new shop of one of Montreal's hottest young fashion designers. Other fashion boutiques are located nearby.

Information: Quebec Government Office of Tourism, 202-659-8990, http://www.tourism-montreal.org.