Every city has a restaurant that becomes a talking point within food-obsessed circles. It is the reservation everyone tries to secure, the menu everyone watches evolve, the chef everyone is quietly rooting for. In Halifax for the past year, that restaurant has been Chef Colin Bebbington’s Tribute, located in the Cunard Residences on the Halifax waterfront. It topped my personal list of most anticipated dining experiences over the last year and thanks to the generosity of my partner, I recently had the chance to get through the door. I left with a richer picture of what Halifax’s modern dining scene can look like and a few lingering questions.
The first surprise was the scale. Better said, the lack of it. The room is smaller than most new openings in Halifax, pushing toward an intimate, almost Manhattan-like footprint. By my count, there were roughly forty seats arranged within a tight footprint that demands proximity both to fellow diners and to the heart of the operation: the open kitchen.
That open kitchen paired with bar seating becomes the focal point of the experience. There is an undeniable thrill for anyone who cares about food to watch plates being orchestrated in real time: the choreography of cooks, the plating, the constant checking of meat to ensure proper doneness. It adds energy and transparency, like a peek behind the curtain without sacrificing polish.
Service was one of the strongest elements. Professional without being stiff, attentive without hovering, and in our case, impressively capable of managing a table that mixed a la carte dishes with a tasting menu. For what it is worth, I am not sure I would recommend that combination for everyone. The pauses that naturally occur between different menu formats are noticeable for those not doing the full tasting, but it was handled with enough grace that it never became disruptive.
What truly caught me off guard was the staffing ratio. The number of people working the floor and kitchen relative to guests bordered on surprising for Halifax, in a positive way. Service was never obtrusive or overt, but it provided reassurance that you were never left wanting. It speaks well to a restaurateur investing in service, cohesion and the guest experience.
The wine list deserves its own applause. Built with a deep Italian slant, it avoids the obvious and embraces selections that speak to curiosity and character. On this night, we enjoyed a Sicilian Carricante made as an orange wine, in essence a white wine made like a red wine with prolonged skin contact, and a Pelaverga from Piedmont, in Northern Italy. Pelaverga is a Piedmontese rarity as it is primarily produced around two small villages, Verduno and La Morra, near Barolo. For those seeking some of the complexity of Barolo but without the tannic bite or price tag, Pelaverga, with its strawberry and spice flavours and more modest tannins, makes a great choice. My only small criticism of the list was how the Carricante was presented with the other white wines. Orange wine is a style that is not to everyone’s taste, and those unfamiliar with the producer seeking a fresh Sicilian white wine may get an unexpected experience. That said, for the oenophiles who order wine out of interest rather than pedigree, consider yourself rewarded with some excellent off-the-beaten-path selections.
The food shows clear technique and ambition. There were moments where the kitchen really sang with layers of flavour, thoughtful combinations and a restraint that avoided the over-constructed tendencies still common in tasting menus. The evening for me started with a dish combining tuna, bone marrow, arugula and fennel. A combination I would never have invented myself but one that was ultimately rewarding. Next was balzoni, a pasta dish originating in Bologna. The pasta itself is green, presumably from the addition of spinach to the dough, and shaped like a cross between tortellini and ravioli. Filled with ricotta and mortadella and drizzle with a brown butter sauce, the pasta delivered a sublime texture, though the dish itself was a little too salty. It was not a theme through the evening, but in this dish, it was quite noticeable. I, along with a couple tablemates, upgraded to the Bistecca option for the main course. Sitting all night across from the side of the kitchen where their impressive multi-layer wood-fired grill stands, I had a unique opportunity to watch the dance of the grill master, who constantly moved the beef to ensure the correct depth of smoky flavour without overcooking. If being honest, a touch more salt here would have been welcome.
The question I had going into the night was simple: Is Tribute Halifax’s best restaurant? Admittedly, I left not knowing. Although in some ways, I don’t think they care. It is unquestionably one of the most accomplished kitchens in the city. It is absolutely worth the reservation. And it absolutely deserves a second visit, which is more meaningful praise than any other ranking system I have. Will I return for the tasting menu? Unlikely. I am, after all, a suburbanite father of three. The tasting menu paired with a couple glasses of wine will set you back north of 150 dollars before tax and gratuity. More if celebrating like we were. Can I see an urban, childless version of myself sitting at the bar with a glass or two of well-curated wine in the company of pasta? Definitely.
In the end, my experience was compelling, professional, intimate and enjoyable but also slightly imperfect. Then again, what is perfection in dining? Certainly, it isn’t the cold sterility of restaurants that place too much emphasis on plating and not enough on comfort, honesty and simplicity. For this, I will give Tribute its just deserves.