Biscuit Note #3 Restaurant Panacée

Nestled on a quiet stretch of Rue Atateken in the Village, Restaurant Panacée remains, sadly, under the radar. Since Chef Catherine Couvet Desrosiers opened her intimate 30-seat restaurant in July 2024, each visit reinforced my belief that this should be the restaurant everyone in Montreal is talking about.

By choosing The Village, Desrosiers—who honed her craft at Bouillon Bilk, Cadet, and most recently as chef de cuisine at Foxy—has delivered something extraordinary. In this hushed, elegant space wrapped in forest green and gold, she’s created an oasis of culinary excellence that feels both deeply personal and technically masterful.

The horseshoe-shaped counter that dominates the room feels closer to a theater than your typical Montreal restaurant. Watching Desrosiers and her small team work with quiet intensity adds a mesmerizing dimension to the meal. On my most recent visit, I found myself mesmerized by the precise way she plated a piece of Nova Scotia tuna, carefully topped with shaved bits of white asparagus.

The five-course tasting menu changes with ruthless seasonality, but certain preparations have become signatures, and regulars would riot if the salted almond pre-dessert were to disappear from the menu. A recent pork loin, grilled to perfection after being marinated in rhubarb juice, reminded me why simple preparations of exceptional ingredients often make the most memorable dishes.

The wine program, overseen by sommelière Brigitte Emond Serret, deserves particular praise. The selection leans heavily on natural and biodynamic producers, with a strong showing from Quebec vineyards. The list changes frequently due to the restaurant’s modest cellar, ensuring even regular guests always have something new to discover.

The service team operates with a quiet confidence that mirrors the kitchen’s approach. They read the room intuitively—knowing when to linger for questions about a wine’s producer or when to simply let a spectacular bite speak for itself. During one visit, my server noticed my fascination for a broth, and spontaneously brought over Chef Desrosiers to explain her technique. These unscripted moments of connection between kitchen and dining room happen naturally here, never feeling forced or performative.

The atmosphere itself feels like a secret you want to simultaneously keep to yourself and share with everyone you know. The quiet hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional gasp of delight from a neighboring diner, creates an intimacy that larger restaurants can’t replicate. This is enhanced by Desrosiers’ decision to serve individual portions that, while perfectly composed for one, practically beg to be shared around the table, allowing diners to taste the entire menu while maintaining the integrity of each carefully plated dish.

What impresses me most about Panacée is its quiet confidence. There’s no Instagram-bait plating, no molecular gastronomy tricks, no attempts to court trends. Instead, Desrosiers and her team focus relentlessly on coaxing maximum flavor from pristine ingredients, creating dishes that feel both intellectually satisfying and deeply comforting.

In a city blessed with exceptional restaurants, Panacée stands apart not by shouting but by whispering—and those lucky enough to lean in and listen are rewarded with one of Montreal’s most accomplished dining experiences. The Village has long deserved a restaurant of this caliber. That it remains relatively undiscovered feels like both a blessing—tables are obtainable with little planning—and a shame—talent like this deserves recognition.

Book a seat at the counter. Trust the wine pairings. Prepare for an evening that will recalibrate your expectations of what Montreal dining can be.