Ok, I should not toot my own horn but let me toot it anyways. I found this restaurant by chance and it turned out to be one of the best meals of the year to date. It’s only been open for three months and we were lured in by it’s adjacent bakery where we bought flaky Paris-worthy croissants for breakfast the next day. Cluny is in the Distillery district which I like to compare to Granville Island in Vancouver- no chains, no brand names, just one-of-a-kind operations. I hope to be the first to christen Cluny as Toronto’s Balthazar. The concept, the interior, and the menu reminded me so much of the beloved New York City haunt. The food is French which is not my favourite because the quintessential steak frites is only as good as the steak and the steak is never comparable to Alberta beef (and also, I claim Italian citizenship by almost-marriage and with that the underlying rivalry with the French). I went for the duck two-ways and it was divine. And you can never go wrong with a bottle of Bordeaux shared three-ways. However the best parts of the meal were the very beginning and the very end, the appetizer and the dessert. This may have been the best French Onion soup of my life, period. The dessert was passion fruit soufflé and whether I am impressed by a properly done soufflé, or the exquisite lightness of it (like eating a cloud), is to be debated. After polishing off the remainder of the Bordeaux, our waiter said to me: there must be some Italian in you. And that left me smiling all the way to our hotel room where I immediately fell into the deepest food coma, the kind you only get on nights in brand new city where you end up eating a bit too much and walking a bit too far.
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Jasmine is a former pharmacist turned freelance writer, foodie, and fashionista from Alberta, Canada living "the sweet life" in Bergamo, Italy.
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