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Porchetta is something you want to eat lukewarm: work on it in the morning, cook it in the afternoon, take it out, and eat it an hour or so later. We’re aware that a traditional porchetta is a whole stuffed pig; this is our version and has little affiliation with the Italian classic. Because you wrap the pork belly around the shoulder, you need a pretty skinny piece of Boston butt. We buy a 5-pound (2.3-kg) shoulder, slice it lengthwise, and use half (freeze the other half for another time). This recipe may look labor-intensive, but it won’t be, especially if you get your butcher to do all of the trimming for you.

Our use of ribs extends beyond a plate of ribs. We use them in gnocchi and in potato soup, and we will cut them into three, remove the bones, and make a McKiernan ribs sandwich. As lard was a staple at the turn of the century, so are ribs at Joe Beef. We provide two ways of cooking: roasting and smoking. Serve with Good Fries (page 154).

Even though places like St. Hubert Rotisserie have been serving the “hot chicken sandwich” since the 1930s, no factual proof exists that it originated in Quebec. Our only proof is that we haven’t seen it outside the province, whereas inside, it’s a weekly staple. It’s basically hot, shredded chicken, served with galvaude (peas and gravy, usually a poutine variation) and two pieces of white bread. In this recipe, you have four meat options: pork, duck, rabbit, or chicken. They’re all hot and they’re all delicious. For pork, use the pulled pork recipe in Scallops with Pulled Pork (page 30). For the other meats, there are three steps: (1) cure it, (2) smoke it, and (3) confit it. If you don’t have a smoker can, you will need to dig up an empty 1-quart (1-liter) tin can for step 2. If you live in the States, D’Artagnan (www.dartagnan.com) will deliver the duck fat you need in step 4 to your door. If not, use bacon fat. The gravy is the perfect clone of the local poulet barbecue sauce. It’s not a hot sauce, but it’s also not that thickish gravy that tastes like spinach and baking soda. It’s zingier, a cross between BBQ sauce and gravy. It is classic on these sandwiches, but it’s also good, minus the bread, on duck, pork, poutine, or yes, chicken.

When we wrote “mackerel” on the blackboard menu, it didn’t sell, so we renamed it silver tail and a star was born. Now when we serve silver tail with bacon and sage, or in a breakfast Benedict, it flies out of the kitchen. We sell so much that our supplier thinks we might be feeding farmed killer whales in the backyard. Our guys at McKiernan Luncheonette do a great job of smoking 50 pounds (23 kilograms) every week, which culminates with the Saturday brunch mackerel Benedict, with eggs, hollandaise, maple syrup, and an English muffin.

It’s tough to find real chowder in this city, so we promised we would always have delicious homemade chowder by the cup or bowl at McKiernan. Ours is made with fresh Carr’s PEI clams.

This recipe is an homage. While aboard the Ocean, en route to Prince Edward Island, we had three choices for dinner: haddock Dugléré, chicken jalfrezi, or fish chowder and sandwich. Meredith went for the chicken, everyone else had haddock. Fred looked at Meredith’s, knew it was better, and talked the entire trip about ordering it on our return. As we made our way back to Quebec, all he wanted was a warm and true jalfrezi. So we’re back on the train, in our favorite booth, two bottles of wine down when the attendant comes to our table. Fred orders. “Sorry, sir, all we have left are ham sandwiches and Pringles.” Devastation in the form of a one-hour rant about the decline of the railroad ensues. The jalfrezi had such an impact that we wanted to get it into this chapter. So we asked ex–Joe Beefer and curry pro Kaunteya Nundy to come up with a classic jalfrezi. Not surprisingly, he came up with a recipe that put the VIA Rail version to shame. This is for Fred. And this is what Kaunteya had to say about the dish: “I asked my family what jalfrezi means, and I was told by my Bengali grandmother [Calcutta region] that jal means ‘hot’ and frezi means ‘fry.’ This is a very Anglo-Indian dish that was invented by the British. My mom, Shobhna Nundy, and I created this recipe. We made it three times to make sure that it was just right and would not blow away the ‘white folks’ from a spicy [heat] level.”

George Pullman was a fervent industrialist and a train man. He created the sleeping car, the hotel car, and eventually the dining car. Some say the Pullman sandwich loaf was designed after his cars. Others say it was designed to fit into the cube-shaped train shelves. Either way, this is an easy dish we would love to eat for breakfast—on the train, of course. This recipe makes one serving; use up the rest of the Pullman loaf making more boxes.

This recipe is taken from an old Canadian National Railway menu. It became an instant Joe Beef classic, which goes to show: people love train food.

The idea here is to get great pulled pork but in the shape of High Liner Captain’s fish sticks. If you don’t have a proper fryer, you can still do this recipe—just don’t attempt it drunk and/or naked. You can use a thick-bottomed pot and a deep-fat thermometer, and of course, have a fire extinguisher nearby. Try these sticks with any of the suggested dips for Cornflake Eel Nuggets (page 134), or serve on mashed potatoes with onion jus.

This dish is not surprising in taste (it’s duck, sausage, and potato—what can go wrong?), nor very feminine (in other words, it’s not pretty). We like the look a lot, because the fingerlings, duck pieces, and links are all the same size and shape. This is the best way to enjoy duck in the middle of the winter.

We love Dover sole, or at least we used to. It’s not as sound a menu choice these days, so instead we go for local turbot from the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. The classic turbot au vin jaune is exceptional, but said vin jaune can be really difficult to locate. A crisp, dry vermouth such as Vermouth de Chambéry will do.

Some of our favorite customers—that is, Bobby Sontag—say that liver should always be served rare. This is (yet) another time where we disagree with him. Regarding Montreal smoked meat, we have one word: Schwartz’s. Not unlike bagels, smoked meat preferences fuel wars and countless throwdowns. In fact, the best smoked meat is the one you prefer. If you can’t get Montreal smoked beef brisket, you can substitute pastrami or even corned beef.

We came up with this alternative to braised rabbit as a way to eat rabbit in the summer. If possible, ask the butcher to bone a rabbit for you. Be sure to distinguish between the legs and the loins (or saddle). In Canada, asking for the kidneys is no problem. In the United States, it is hit or miss. Sometimes we like to serve the skewers with Gentleman Steak Sauce (page 251) for dipping, but they are good on their own, too. Another nice option is an easy pan jus, made by deglazing the pan with a shot of sherry, then adding 1/2 cup (125 ml) chicken stock and 2 tablespoons unsalted butter.

If you’re French or a Francophile, you know what these are supposed to be: sheep tripe and pig’s trotters cooked together. We didn’t know that, but we knew the name. We just made what we thought it ought to be and it turned out well, if completely unlike the original (we think). This is braised lamb and pig’s trotter with greens and herbs, wrapped in caul fat. The sauce—a French classic with gherkins, mustard, and shallots—is also perfect with chops and liver.

Here in Canada, horse is the great divide between Anglophone and Francophone—more than politics, more than Celine Dion. Horse equals Napoleon versus Nelson, or Wolfe versus Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham. The French do two things that Anglophones find disgusting: eat frogs and eat horse. To Anglophones, horses are royalty. And it’s understandable, as they’re truly majestic. They’re also really tasty. We don’t know anyone who raises horses for meat, yet the meat exists. So, if you don’t want to eat horse that has been on growth hormones and clenbuterol, buy it from a trusted butcher. It has a high iron content and makes a delicious tenderloin or tartare.

This is the one stew you can get away with in the summer, yet crave in the winter. Veal chunks from the hind shank is the best meat for this; cheeks or shoulder is another option. All but the rear leg muscle will work. Of course, mashed potatoes or a marrow pilaf (rice baked with bone marrow instead of butter) is the perfect buddy. As a finishing touch, we like to pimp our blanquette de veau with truffles, cock’s combs, foie gras, or small slices of lobster. It lends regality to an otherwise hearty and simple stew.

This is yet another recipe that evokes that nostalgic, “Why don’t people make this anymore?” feeling, like a beautiful picture from the old Larousse, a civil-war reenactment, or sleeping on a train. There is only one good reason to make this dish: because you can! Thankfully, people like Frank, Marco, and Emma (our kitchen mainstays and true Joe Beefers) see the value in making historically relevant dishes like this, and it stays with them forever and can live on. The most difficult part of this recipe is measuring the dough to cover the pâté. Although some pâtés are served hot, the salt content in this one means it only tastes good cold. We serve it with some mustard and a glass of Morgon.

This is the kind of dish that used to be prepared tableside in Montreal chophouses. A few restaurants still do tableside crêpes Suzette, steak tartare, and specialty coffees. We get excited like kids on Halloween when we see that cart rolling toward us. It’s tough to do ourselves because of the size of Joe Beef, but we hope it comes back in a big way (and not in the “lavender and tomato essential oils being pumped over my table from a Provençal print balloon as we eat lamb and the waiter tickles our nose and ears with said lamb’s tail” way).

Mint is a classic accompaniment for lamb. And it wasn’t until Jennifer May shot this classic braised lamb recipe with its mint condiment that we really appreciated its beauty. It’s something we imagine on the Sunday table of Mayor Drapeau, who brought Expo 67 and the ’76 Olympics to Montreal (and chased away the hookers and the gangsters—albeit temporarily).

Occasionally we refer to Le Repertoire de la Cuisine, the little brown book of classic French recipes, to find inspiration for the Joe Beef menu. It’s a gold mine of forgotten culinary knowledge, including the sauce paloise, a classic variation on sauce béarnaise that uses mint instead of tarragon. You decide on the meat. If you freak on kidneys, use kidneys. We like it on a mutton chop, one chop per person.