Schmoozing at the Fountain of Youth

PAYMENT/RESERVATIONS: Major credit cards, reservations for six or more, 642-0557 DRINKS: Fully licensed. HOURS: Breakfast everday, 6:30am-11:30am, Lunch, Mon-Fri, 11:30am-2:30pm, Midday meals, 2:30pm-5pm, dinner, 5pm-11pm plus late dinners Mon-Sat, 11pm-2pm, Rating: Food: *** Service: *** Theres two schools of thought about the worth of elixirs. Some folks imagine everlasting youth, others see snakeoil sellers. I always think of WC Fields, in his great role as Professor Eustace McGargle, king of the patent medicine hawkers. Of course his own personal elixir was the martini which he said, "should always be served cold to preserve the medicinal powers." And with three for breakfast, which was his habit, theres always that hazy impression of eternal life. Alchemists though, way back when, laid off the martinis but kept up a quest to mix up their own magical elixir. Would be able to bring the dead back to life if they succeeded. Never quite did it although the French came close with the creation of wormwood-saturated absinthe. May not have revived the dead but certainly put you within handshaking distance. So hearing of this swank new spot in the stylish Opus hotel with its French brasserie-style menu and interior (plus the Toulouse Lautrec painting on the website, and old Toulouse loved his absinthe), I figured maybe the elixir-soused youth seekers and alchemists had finally fused the two schools of thought into one practical technique. Plenty of youth around, shiny like action figures but the alchemists looked like aging lawyers and stockbrokers. Which is a kind of alchemy in itself, producing gold from air. Either way, there was magic in the cologne vapour and a sense of youthful preservation at the bar. I just dont know how people can look this good constantly. You need a management team to keep up with this. Peaches and I got three steps into the trendy mire before the the door guy who looked like a Calvin Klein model but with clothes on, stopped us with bad tidings. Eternal life might not be in the cards tonight. Knew I should have worn my good underwear. Full house and I was told there's no reservations unless you have a pack of six or more so it's a bit of a crapshoot getting a table. Opus Hotel bar on the other side, looked inviting with its alien light, delicate drapery and autopsy room tiling. Amazingly, a small spot opened up, beside the bar near the back, on a slight second level overlooking the spiffy red banquet booth seating. Room is divided up into three spaces, the main showcase being the red velvet and leather affair with gold frames on the walls and the decadence of a New Orleans brothel, another comfortable back room with a simpler approach and the main bar and seats overlooking the hubbub. Where we sat, it was cramped quarters like a bistro on a submarine. Tiny round table in a side pocket of the place, where the staff squeezed through to deliver and pick up drink orders. I couldnt imagine where our food would fit. Kept my elbows in and engaged in a bit of a fight for chair space with the people behind me. But the high energy enthusiasm of the joint kept my pencilneck swivelling. Wore my Arrow Mach II swim-with-the-sharks shirt again for protection. My flak jacket for upscale surroundings. Elixirs are entwined with immortality and this place makes a good run at it. Theyre even on the menu. Cocktails au Elixir at $6.50 apiece, with a variety of stimulating curealls with enticing names. The Sazerac, the Parisian and the Duchess, whichll pickle you like royalty. We hit the wine list. Glass of the house wine, Baron Philippe de Rothschild Sauvignon Blanc ($5.75) for me, so I could feel like a hand-waving land owner but Peaches made the best pick with a glass of the Yellowtail Shiraz ($6.75) from Australia. Difficult navigating this global wine list since the selections are vast and the prices arent bad. Menu is classic Parisian brassiere selections and Peaches couldnt resist the Steak Frites with bérnaise sauce ($22.95) while I muscled mussels with spicy lamb sausage cylinders from their shells ($12.50). Plus a fantastic Pissaladière, which bears no resemblance to its name. A rich and sweet, carmalized onion tart ($6.75), that sets the tastebuds up for the comforting touch of some classic French fare. Try the Salade Frisée aux lardons et Oeuf Poché ($10.25), which translates as a delicious salad of warm chickory-flavoured greens with bacon and a soft poached egg like a Cobb salad gone French. Great, crusty bread began the feast and soon we were huddled over a multitude of plates like squirrels protecting a pile of nuts in the middle of a highway. Mussels were plump, pink and fresh, bubbling in a tangy tomato broth and given a bit of a hotfoot and a tinge of Moroccan spicing with the Merguez lamb sausage. Frites were thicker than the usual thin-bodied bistro versions, but the results were still good, with an overall crispiness and more tater surface for sponging up bivalve sauce. Peaches steak was a savoury offering, a slight, peppery bite smoothed by the rich and delicious bérnaise. Wonderful tastes with a soft punch, like a handpuppet trying to stay afloat in a pot of cream sauce. Every day, theres a new Les Plats Braisés, meaning a different entreé featured, spanning everything from Daube de Boeuf, Confit de Canard or Coq au Vin, all between $16-$18. As well as excellent main dishes offered daily. Veal sausage in onion gravy ($15.95), skate served with brown butter and capers ($16.95), chicken breast in Dijon mustard sauce ($18.95) or a simple grilled Croque Monsieur sandwich ($11.95). Side of succulent green beans ($4.50) is always a polite addition. Executive chef is Don Lentendre who used to run the inventive Moustache Café and Chef de Cuisine is Frédéric Desbiens. Together, with the titles, they sound intimidating but the menu is truly comfort food albeit a bit expensive. Ended with a plate of Profitéroles (($7.25), small puff pastries that resembled PacMans gobbling orbs of ice cream in a pool of chocolate sauce. Desserts are a humble artform here and the Tart Tatin with crème fraîche ($7.25) is highly recommended. To cap off the evening, Id been told the washrooms are a must-see. Throughout the meal, the mystery downstairs haunted me. Turned out that over each urinal is a small screen, showing a live feed from the room upstairs. Bathroom was empty and I found myself running from urinal to urinal, watching the different perspectives. Zipped up first of course. Felt like I was viewing a conceptual video art installation. Urinating and art viewing, walking hand-in-hand since Marcel Duchamp signed a urinal and altered art history. Turns into a reality TV show though, when, as The Law said, you watch your spouse being picked up by strangers. Womens washroom has the same display, but over the sinks instead. Peaches and I ended the night trying to wave to each other from the bathrooms. Outside, we avoided the scrum of valets. Pretended the Maserati was down the street as we hopped a bus out of viewing distance. "Never give a sucker an even break," I thought contentedly, bouncing on the bus seat and counting my remaining change.