Big Night at the Peach

As Colin said, a superb meal at 'Le Cinquieme Peche' in Montreal (that's payshay, AKA sin, for those of you who speak la langue de Moliere. I thought it was something about a peach, but Colin set me straight).
To start: tart sparkling wine infused with fruit or floral flavours. Colin got blueberry, and it made his drink look a little like beer. Mine was lavender, which I thought was just for Granny's bath beads, but I was wrong.
Starters: bone marrow with sea salt/seaweed on super-long crackers to help excavate the nutty creamy fatness.
Then quail roasted on a chunk of pork belly the size of a deck of cards. The pork was a fine surprise on the plate after working through all those little legs and wings. The quail seemed to be full of the roasted goodness of a whole flock of his brethren, plus all the butterflied turkey's I've eaten on Colin's back porch. Glorious.
Between the wine and the 4 AM wakeup, I can only remember these details because of my handy little moleskine notebook. I've never had a moleskine before; it was a going-away present from Pete and Sue. It's already paying dividends: Colin claims the spontaneous round of apple ice-wine at the end of the meal arrived because the Maitre D' saw me taking notes, and thought I was a restaurant reviewer. I think he was responding to the smiles on our boozy faces.
Final thoughs on Le Cinquieme Peche as recorded by the moleskine:
Colin: friendly, cozy, good music
Jack: the fat of the bone marrow is nutty and rich like liquified [illegible}