No, this can't be the right place.
I thought it was strange when I heard that one of Montreal's most flamboyant star chefs had moved to sleepy West Vancouver, but this is too bizarre.
We pull up outside Matteo Modern Greek Kitchen to find the front stoop festooned with a garish jumble of potted fronds, orange pumpkins, multicoloured Christmas lights and a fully set, white-clothed table that screams Old World tourist trap.
Huh?
Back in the day, Matteo Yacoub was the hip king of Boulevard Saint-Laurent. In 1990, he launched Buona Notte, when it was the most happening place to see and be seen in Montreal's party central. A few years later, the "Flying Apron" almost single-handedly introduced fusion cuisine to La Belle Provence when he and his partners expanded next door and turned an empty warehouse into the still infamously fabulous Globe nightclub-cum-restaurant.
Mr. Yacoub's Cal-Ital-Asian flights of fancy weren't always well received by critics, especially when he branched out with two of his own restaurants, both called Matteo. But celebrities such as Madonna and Al Pacino lapped up his theatrical personality and penchant for spinning the dance tunes as he fed them.
And he now owns a humble little neighbourhood joint on Marine Drive with a blue-and-red neon "OPEN" sign flashing in the front window?
Inside the dark dining room, the tables are decked in checkered cloth and billowy organza valances hang from the skylights. The room is empty - and it's only 7:30 p.m.
Enter Mr. Yacoub. The bald-headed ball of fire bounds out of the kitchen, clapping his hands. "Welcome!" he booms, leading us to a table adorned with two empty Black Tower wine bottles.
"What do you like, white or red?" he asks, cranking up the fireplace, its cluttered mantel boasting a life-size bust of Michelangelo's David.
A few minutes later, our host with the most plunks six open bottles down in front of us and pours a few samples into tiny glasses stamped with local winery logos.
"We work on the honour system here," he shouts, dashing back to the kitchen. "Just take what you like and tell me what you drank later."
The chef returns momentarily with a round of complimentary appetizers. There's a creamy hummus that packs an exceptionally tart lemony punch, crumbly feta mashed with mint and tasty cubed tomatoes swimming in a lovely olive oil infused with garlic and cilantro. It's all served on mismatched white plates, which look as if they've been scavenged from a local hospital cafeteria, with a side of rock-hard pita bread.
But hey, we didn't even ask for it. Who's going to complain?
Quiet night? "Nah, it was packed earlier," he harrumphs. "In this neighbourhood, they all rush in for dinner at 4:30 and are gone by 6 because they have television shows to watch.
"The culture, the people - it's so different from Montreal," he shrugs, telling us about the famous restaurants in which he still owns a small share.
As the night progresses, we come to discover that Mr. Yacoub gave up on the fast life several years ago when he went to Egypt to visit his dying mother. He met a beautiful young Lithuanian woman named Rita on the bus one day, brought her back to Montreal and made her his wife.
She didn't care for the cold Quebec winter or his hectic lifestyle. "I promised her we'd live a nice quiet life and raise a family," he smiles. "Who would have guessed?"
Mr. Yacoub has so many stories to tell, it's hard to keep them straight. But he's certainly not bluffing when he says he's not keen on traditional Greek cuisine and is trying to liven up the menu.
Should we order the moussaka? "Boring," he sighs, explaining that a local food writer advised him to open a Greek restaurant because it would fill a much-needed niche in the neighbourhood.
