BIS Ristorante

We asked our concierge for some restaurants within walking distance that offered gluten-free menu options. He provided us with several local restaurants and we ultimately decided on BIS. After going to the arcade, we walked a few blocks to the restaurant.

The entrance to the restaurant is a staircase up from the Rue de la Montagne into what looks like an old mansion.

We were immediately greeted by the coat check girl and then the owner. The owner clucked his tongue with disapproval when we said we didn’t have a reservation, which was a surprise to us considering how empty the restaurant was.

Upon sitting, we were greeted by a waiter who treated us very well all night. In the spirit of Chris DeNisco, we ordered a bottle of Nero D’Avola.

The back of the restaurant was a bit more crowded than our area, with a family birthday party and a few other tables of patrons, while the front of the restaurant consisted of just our table, one other table with couple, and a third table with a lone patron.

Perhaps the most intriguing part of dinner was the character who was dining alone. At least, we thought he was dining alone.

This gentleman must be a regular patron, as the staff of the restaurant did not seem at all surprised or taken aback by this unusual dinner date. We couldn’t help but listen in on some of the conversation. It seemed he was trying to impress the young lady, talking about how he has written dozens of books and used to be an international superstar athlete. He also told her that his publicist was insisting that he write a book about their long-distance relationship, which really got his date’s attention but he quickly backtracked and said, “…but I don’t know, I just don’t know. I have to look into it and see.” The young lady did a good job of appearing attentive and nodding at everything he said while snacking.

You know, I have this rose in front of me, and I can only keep it alive for one day… but what we have could last much longer than that.

– An actual quote from the guy in the above photo spoken to the lady, whom he referred to as the “spicy South American.”

We wrote down several choice quotes we overheard. It seemed he was trying to get her to come to Canada. Davia insisted this man must be a serial killer, like Ted Bundy, and kept referring to the man as Ted. At first, I felt bad for him and thought he must be lonely. After overhearing more of the conversation, it became more and more difficult to disagree.

We’ll do some yoga, a lot of spine work, a lot of hip work… That’s how I stay fit since retiring from my first successful career as an athlete.

– Ted, making suggestions for what they’ll do when she visits him in Canada.

Getting to the bathroom in the restaurant was quite an adventure. There were all manner of twists and tight turns and narrow staircases one has to venture through to find the restrooms. Once inside, I had a few questions.

The urinals were so close together I can’t imagine two grown men using them at the same time without their hips touching. Seeing as there was one patron using one of them, I went to the bathroom stall and was transported back several decades in time.

The toilet seat appears to have some sort of mechanism that kept the seat covered with clean plastic, which was rotated after each use so that everyone can get a clean seat upon which to sit. More interesting than that was what appeared to be an ashtray on top of the toilet paper holder. It begged the question, has anyone every actually gone to the bathroom at BIS and smoked a cigarette in the stall while taking a crap? Well, I wasn’t going to be the first.

Also of interest was that the hand drying system was a basket overfull with mounds of rolled fabric hand towels, which all looked as old as the ashtray-toilet, and a receptacle for used towels. Instead of using paper towels or a hot air blower, you take a small, rolled-up towel and dry your hands and drop the towel into a small bin. I dried my hands with one of these towels, praying to the god of hygiene that these things were actually washed on a regular basis.

Our food was quite good. I had a filet mignon with a side of spaghetti and Davia had the swordfish, which she said was great. Normally, Davia would not be able to stop talking about her swordfish for the entire night, but the interesting gentleman/serial killer next to us was the dominating topic of conversation for this night.

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This was one of our pricier meals of the trip at around $200 CAD, but we both happened to choose more expensive options on the menu, along with the bottle of wine which was $60 CAD by itself. But it was well worth the cost. The food and service was great.

Ted wasn’t the only nut in the place. After we finished our dinner, our waiter noticed we had some wine left, and said he’d bring over some walnuts to snack on while we finish our last glass. At first we were confused but it ended up being a really nice pairing. It was especially nice of him to think of Davia, as she couldn’t eat the biscotti that came with the check.

On the way out, Davia couldn’t resist taking a photo of her new friend Ted. She maintains to this day that we will eventually see his face in a mugshot as part of a breaking news segment about a serial killer.

We walked to Couche-Tard in the snow, bought a few snacks, and went back to the hotel to write our blog posts.