December 2014 – Fare..Eat..Ales

Now Playing…Wahlburgers: Identity Crisis…Starring Mark, Donnie and the Other Guy.

December 28, 2014December 28, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

I suppose if you have the last name Wahlberg, it makes sense that you throw your at into the burger business, especially where you are backed by two pop culture icons who have graced the big and small screen as well as the music business for 25 years.

Wahlburgers recently opened its first Toronto franchise along side the SOHO hotel on Blue Jays Way. I immediately thought a few things when I entered the place for the first time:

This place is pretty big.
What a hideous shade of green.
Why are the staff acting like I’m in a Parkdale eatery instead of a downtown tourist trap? A black shirt or a cardigan should not make one better than me.

I was seated quickly and ordered a pint. At this point I realized it’s quite hard to get a pint from the burger based joint and be able to watch a tv at the same time. The adhere to a list of local brews on tap and also feature the Wahlbrewski North which is brewed on contract by a local brewery. The price range is $7-7.50. I really had no interest in the $12 adult cocktails (although I will give them credit for using clamato instead of tomato juice in their Caesars..it looks like they did their homework). Their $15 adult frappes look sickly sweet and look as if they would appeal to teens with fake IDs and those who feel comfortable drinking as many calories as they are about to eat (what the hell is whipped cream liquor anyway).

The menu is mainly burgers with the typical sides (salads and fries) but you can also get a portobello burger, a sandwich made of turkey with all the fixings and typical offerings off a kid’s menu if necessary. I ordered the BBQ bacon burger with the sauce in the side. In addition I ordered a side of famous Wahl sauce which is normally served with some of the other burgers on the menu. As a side, we split the fries and an order of tater tots.

While you’re waiting you can watch a montage to the Wahlberg brothers (Donny, Mark and the other guy) on a loop (including new and old footage and plenty of references to the A&E show) which runs on the televisons in strategic positions set throughout the restaurant. Otherwise, you can also read the wordle-like large poster which lists all of Mark’s movies in the event it’s a trivia question or a dinner party conversation starter sometime in the future.

The burger was decent. The patty was not overcooked although I would have been happy if it was closer to medium. The bun/patty ratio was good. I enjoyed both sauces but was glad I didn’t ask for either directly on the burger since I think a little too much would have cut into the taste of the burger overall. The clothespin was a bit woody….but probably better than the fries (see below).

The sides were horrible. The “naturally cut” fried clearly didn’t mean freshly cut and the tater tots were “just like I remember them”…over salted and greasy potato sponges. Given the fries I get can get at other joints for about the same price, these were an embarrassment at $3.50 each.

My Take

I will be interested to see the fate of Wahlburgers in Toronto. It has a bit of an identity crisis. I mean, where else can you grab a $7.50 pint to go with your slice of government cheese? Despite the celebrity endorsement, it sill likely be more geared toward a sports fan than it will a patron of the SOHO itself. It’s saving grace may the fact you can get a decent burger at a decent price in a place where dad can have a beer, mom can ogle Marky Mark’s abs and the kids can eat hot dogs and shitty french fries (I swear as long as there’s ketchup there’s no such thing as a bad fry to a child) and wonder why they can’t have a $15 drink called blueberry pie…all at a location within walking distance of a Jays game. Otherwise the tricky parking and popularity of numerous other burger joints in the area may make it an ongoing struggle.

Personally, I I think I could replicate my experience at Wahlburgers with a green sharpie highlighter, a pound of decent ground beef, a Kraft single, a bag of McCain fries or tater tots and a toaster oven; all while watching Muchmusic retro while I talk to my annoying hipster cousin on speaker phone.

With other burger joints like Burger’s Priest, P & L burger and other options like Hero and Five Guys in town, I think this new kid will get knocked off the block pretty quick.

Whalesbone: Kramer’s Conundrum, Pickerel vs Walleye and is Kenny Rogers Malaysia’s David Hasselhoff?

December 26, 2014December 27, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

Growing up I was very familiar with Kenny Rogers. Not only did my grandparents have it in the rotation on the 8 track in between ABBA and Neil Diamond, but mom was a rather obsessive fan. I remember her travelling down to Toronto to see him in concert and returning with a huge, glossy souvenir book which sat in a rack for months afterwards. His gleaming face on the front cover would greet me at the front door every time I got home from school. I knew all about Ruby, Lucille and Reuben James. I knew that somebody believed in Kenny and that the Gambler could not possibly outrun the long arm of the law.

Kenny’s legacy continued when I moved to London. There was a Kenny Rogers’ Roaster’s a few blocks from my house. I went once but was more impressed with Canadian chicken juggernaut Swiss Chalet which was located a block closer. The chain’s popularity likely hit it’s peak in the mid-nineties after an episode of Seinfeld in which Kramer reluctantly falls in love with the chicken despite the fact its annoying red neon sign lights up his apartment. Despite the publicity, the company eventually declared Chapter 11 and is now owned and operated out of Malaysia with franchises scattered throughout China, the Philippines and Cambodia. Maybe Kenny is to Malaysia what Hasselhoff is to Germany.

Kramer in the Kenny Rogers' Glow — Kramer in the Kenny Rogers’ Glow

During a recent trip to Ottawa, I was craving seafood more than I was chicken, so I decided to grab dinner at Whalesbone. The oyster house has become a staple among many Ottawa foodies and is known for its innovative menus and bar side turntable which bellows the output of spinning vinyl throughout its tiny confines. I arrived in time to grab a bar seat before the place got too full. I sat down and had flashbacks when I saw Kenny’s bearded mug staring at me from behind the bar while his voice serenaded me with the suggestion that I decorated his life.

I was greeted by a pleasant barkeep who quickly sliced some bread (served with a delicious maple butter), passed me the daily menu and eagerly explained the daily catch of oysters in great detail. Finding it difficult to decide, I opted for one of each of the mollusks from the likes of Colville Bay PEI, Foxley River PEI, Eel Lake NS and Simon NB and Deep Bay BC. Equivalent to the variety of oysters was the carousel of condiments that came with it which included the standard horseradish, lemon and Tabasco in addition to the housemade seafood,hot sauce and mignonette and even a shaker of blended scotch. The variety of both the oysters themselves and the additions made for a very enjoyable start to the evening.

All of the half dozen starters looked incredible but I settled for the scallop ceviche ($20) which was served with grapefruit, red onion, jalapeno, crisps, cilantro and fraiche. It was presently beautifully and had a crispy acidity which nicely coddled the tender scallop. I was hoping for a little more heat from the jalapeno. The radish, which wasn’t listed on the ingredients, was a bit like an uninvited guest whose powerful presence was a little too dominating in the midst of the others party goers.

For the entree, I was fascinated by the walleye and clam combination flavoured with bacon, beans, radish, potatoes and herbs ($30). As a side note, some of us get rather annoyed by the use of the word walleye instead of the much more Canadian pickerel but I suppose I should pick my battles. Once again, the dish was picturesque. The pickerel fillet was nicely browned and served atop a fragrant broth which housed the remaining ingredients. This time the radish was a welcome guest, adding some crunchy bite to the dish.

For dessert, the banana cream pie ($11) was calling my name. It was served in a mason jar and served sprinkled with a graham crust. Those who are not extremists may be a bit turned off since it was heavy on the sweet side but despite this, I enjoyed the taste and texture, highlighted by fresh cream and chunks of ripe banana.

My Take

From start to finish, I enjoyed the Whalesbone experience. Whether it was the fresh bread, the array of available oysters, great service or the other innovative dishes, it had all the components of a great but expensive meal. Each offering was well thought out and attractively presented with an array of textures and flavours by pleasant and knowledgeable waitstaff.

I rarely tweet while at a restaurant but the combination of the oysters and Kenny’s crooning put me in the mood to proclaim my sultry experience to the world. My message was quickly retweeted by somebody at the restaurant and one clever follower asked me if I counted my oysters when I was sitting at the table; I said there’d be time enough for counting when the eatin’s done.

Pizza Libretto- Beckham vs Pirlo and why Ray Hudson may be the Guy Fawkes of Football

December 22, 2014March 16, 2021 spennyrd2 Comments

I was born a mongrel of the United Kingdom. I have a bit of English and a bit of Irish in me. With that, I can have some pride in my heritage. I mean, England is the home of delicious things like treacle, Cadbury chocolate (in which the North American version doesn’t hold a candle) and hearty dishes like beef Wellington. I also enjoying waking on Saturday to a good football match. Being both an England fan at a national level (since I doubt I will ever see Canada qualify for the World Cup in my lifetime) and Liverpool at a domestic level, I can relate to Leafs fan. Liverpool has failed to produce a title since the inception of the premier league in 1992. England has not won a World cup since 1966 (one year before Toronto’s last triumph) and Italy, on the other hand, has won two world cups and reached the final once during my life time. These facts help fuel the perceived superiority of Italy vs England. Pundits like Ray Hudson, acclaimed English player and now soccer commentator, doesn’t help the cause. Known for his colourful diction (you’d know him if you ever heard his Dairy Queen commercial), he co-hosts a radio show on Sirius radio. I was listening last week and he began a segment on the coolest player in soccer. His sacrilegious choice was Italian national Andrea Pirlo. This lead to call-ins who mentioned alternatives like David Beckham. Hudson dismissed this suggestion based on the contrived nature of the Beckham empire, suggesting that Pirlo was naturally cool and didn’t need the help.

People from England rarely cite their food as a contender for the best in the world. They use terms like comfort to justify the use of butter and salt as the main seasonings. Italians, on the other hand, have unified like a Chicago mob to stamp the concept of simplicity all over their cuisine. Whether it’s Joe Bastianich or a first generation Italian-American contestant on a cooking show, an Italian can rarely speak of any dish without using the words simple and fresh.

I enjoy arguing with an Italian. I remember sitting in bar in Chicago engaged in a discussion about the world’s best beer with an Italian colleague who insisted that his homeland had the best beer in the world. I’ll give Italy a lot of credit for their contribution to foodgasms around the world but I won’t give them beer. Once he realized I wasn’t going to agree, he erupted into a frenzy, pointing out that England hadn’t won a world cup in 50 years. My answer was simply “Yes, I know but Italian beer still sucks”. With that, he stormed away as red as a glass of Chianti.

Picking a preferred thin crust pizza place in Toronto is like choosing a political party. Some opt for the trendy Terroni. Others swear by the modish Queen Margherita pizza. A third group loves the popular Pizza Libretto. Whether it’s the service, the size, the reservation policy or one of a hundred other reasons, loyalists of each will find reasons to pledge allegiance to their chosen joint and find reasons to discredit the others.

Call me an undecided voter. I’ve been to Terroni a couple of times and haven’t yet experienced Queen Margherita. I was invited to Pizza Libretto for a work function. I was coming from the East and had a treacherous drive down the Danforth in a snowstorm to get there. Once I arrived, I was greeted by the hostess and seated quickly. The waitstaff met Hudson’s definition of cool; black tees and a laissez-faire attitude that wasn’t quite pretentious. I ordered a drink and waited for the arrival of the set menu. The first course was a piatto grande; a mix of meat, cheese and other things delicious including crostinis, arugula salad, olives, pickles and a delicious spread with a good amount of heat (top right) which was one of the best things on the tray. The other stellar component was the small piece of red wine rinsed blue cheese hidden just above the pickles. All in all, it was delicious start to the meal.

Along with the antipasto, our table was treated to their version of bread. It was puffy and warm and seasoned with salt and rosemary to near perfection.

A larger arugula salad arrived shortly after which was served with pear, walnut and a nicely balanced vinaigrette. Along with it came arancini balls which were bursting with basil and pine nut pesto, bufala mozzarella, peperonata and tomato. Normally arancini are not on the top of my list, but I must say I enjoyed this version more than most.

At this point I should mention that there was too much food. As a result of the storm, we had three no shows so we only had 9 instead of 12 people. Although we pointed it out and offered to pay for the committed 12, our request fell on deaf ears. Dish after dish came out, including three of each of the following pizzas: the classic margherita, the duck confit (with pear and mozzerella) and the cremini mushroom pizza finished with Gorgonzola and spices. Each was exactly what it promised, highlighted by the signature crust cooked at 900 degrees for 90 seconds. Normally I’m not a traditionalist, but the Margherita was the best of the bunch driven by the delicious tomato sauce.

The dessert platter was a cornucopia of classics including panna cotta, tiramisu, budino and chocolate and espresso gelato. Once again, a ridiculous amount was brought to the table. What you see is what you got. It was a good sampling of traditional Italian dolci. In particular, the budino was worth a few extra bites.

Desserts (Gelato, Panna Cotta, Tiramisu, Budino)

My Take

In typical Italian fashion, the food was simple and delicious. I had few complaints other than their insistence to bring out enough food to cover our no shows even though we asked them not to. Half of us left with enough pizza boxes to make it look like we were on our way to a frat party at the University of Toronto. Now, I can’t confirm whether this was stubbornness, pretension or just the Italian way (ie. feed people regardless of whether they want it or not) but it was a bit against my value system. Remember, I come from a rather cheap culture where we could gladly get paid for food we didn’t serve. Compared to Terroni, I’m a fan of Pizza Libretto from the perspective of the food, service and atmosphere. I haven’t had Queen Margherita yet, but I will make it a New Year’s resolution in 2015. At that point, I can become a decided voter and join whatever pizza party I chose to.

Although I can admit that Italians can be cool (at least in the kitchen), I wouldn’t go as far as Ray Hudson in his bold proclamation of Andrea Pirlo as the coolest cat in soccer. Sure, UK players look ridiculous with long hair (google Gareth Bale if you want proof); they don’t sport facial hair very well and they would need the backing of a spice girl and a marketing juggernaut to elevate themselves to the status of cool, but the on-pitch failures of Liverpool and Italian acquisitions Alberto Aquilani, Fabio Borini and most recently Mario Ballotelli makes me think Italy still has some work to do when competing in one of the best leagues in the world (although I will admit the Italian national team has basically owned England since I’ve been born). Ray, your seditious and treasonous comments about the English game combined with the marvelous fireworks that emit from your mouth might make you football’s modern day Guy Fawkes…and I love it.

Andrea Pirlo. The coolest cat in football?

Touhenboku Ramen: It’s Chicken Broth…knot Pork!

December 13, 2014December 23, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

It’s been a while since I’ve indulged in a bowl of ramen and I figured nothing was better than a snow storm to dive back into a bowl. I have scratched a few places off the list but hadn’t had the chance to try Touhenboku ramen on Queen Street. Spearheaded by owner Zuimei Okuyama, it has all the hallmarks of the trendy Toronto noodle houses. First, it has a name a white guy has a hard time remembering (Touhenboku means “blockhead” in Japanese). Second, it has a cute mascot (in this case a smiling tree stump named Tomo who is a half breed consisting of a Canadian and Japanese maple). Third, it has a small menu, modest interior and they sing you a farewell tune on the way out. The big difference is that they use chicken instead of pork as the base for their broth. From what I understand, this may be a “bone” of contention among ramen purists, but I approached it purely from a taste perspective. They also adhere to the “vegetarians need love too” philospohy and offer a vegetarian broth which is not the case for some of the other ramen houses in the area.

That said, I ordered my regular fare; shio ramen (thin noodles) and an order of gyoza. Since I was breaking the pork broth doctrine anyway, I decided to go spicy since I was intrigued by the addition of the “special chili oil”. The soup arrived quickly and I immediately noticed the distinct smell of chicken emanating from the bowl . Any fears of a dainty broth were quickly extinguished after the first few sips. As promised, it was rich and creamy and the oil added a modest amount of heat to the broth. The noodles and egg were cooked to near perfection (the noodles were firm and the egg was not quite hard boiled). The other ingredients were in good proportion to the broth and noodles.

Despite the fact the place was rather empty, the gyoza, despite being called an appetizer, didn’t arrive until I was almost finished the soup. With this annoyance aside, I was treated to a good plate of dumplings. They were seasoned well and nicely pan-finished, keeping the integrity of the dumpling while adding the right amount of crispiness.

My Take

I wanted to insert some witty banter into this post but I was left stumped. Once you’ve branched out to a number of ramen places, you run out of ideas. Touhenboku turns over a new leaf by having the gall to focus on mizutaki (chicken broth) and knot the traditional tonkotsu (pork broth) as the base to its hearty soups. The flavours are quite rich which might help justify the fact that boles are a bit smaller than other ramen joints. In the case of the spicy ramen, it’s bark was worse than it’s bite although the chili did add a nice flavour. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the gyoza, despite having a filling a little less poppy than others, were some of the better I’ve had since they were pan-fried to near perfection. In the end, Touhenboku has blossomed into good competition with other ramen houses in the area in regards to both service and more importantly, a decent bowl of soup. Domo arigato Zuimei Okuyama…wood you please take a bough?

VON Doughnuts: Bartering, Sex Toys and Memories of Fritters That Look Like Celebrities

December 10, 2014December 11, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

I remember when I used to sit on the stools in the poorly decorated Tim Horton’s donuts in the early eighties. The classic brown and yellow decor, the tattered picture of Tim Horton himself and the nameless (at least I think he was) Timbit mascot are all nothing but distant memories.

Tim Horton was a cult hero on the ice. Having played the majority of his career for the Leafs (including the last time they won the Stanley Cup), his life ironically ended as a member of the Buffalo Sabres in a traffic accident on the QEW after a game against his old team.

What I remember the most are the doughnuts. The apple fritters were like fingerprints; no two were the same. You could look at a batch and, like a cloud, find one that would like Pierre Trudeau, Ernie Whitt or the thing growing on the face of the old woman serving you behind the counter (see below if you don’t want to take my word for it). They had apple, cherry and blueberry turnovers the size of pirate hats and the once famous strawberry tarts which seemed seasonal anytime of year.

Since then, the explosion of the Starbucks-lead cafe concept and rapid expansion of the Tim’s franchise meant that the creative, heavy handed tendencies of the local bakers have been replaced by the cookie cutter approach meaning that a dutchie looks the same whether you get it in Yellowknife or at Queen and Bay.

As a result, I’m always looking for this delicious treat in other places. Whether an old school honey cruller at a small town ma and pa shop or a yeast-raised treat at gourmet boutique hidden within a urban bazaar, finding a good donut is well worth the trip. Needless to say, I was excited to see that Von doughnuts was down the road from a restaurant I was dining at that evening. Despite an Alberta clipper, I began the three block trek down Danforth in efforts to get there before it closed at 6. When I walked in, I had the pleasure of meeting the owner who proudly described the daily doughnuts available. She also informed us that she works 60 plus hours a week which likely explained the sign on the window looking for an evening baker. She also explained a sort of barter system that existed among local businesses. For example, she often trades doughnuts for Pizza Libretto’s thin crust pies.

The variation of doughnuts with witty names (such as enjoy-mint and one night stand) differs depending on the day of the week. I decided to opt for a variety (half dozen for $18) which included the following:

Pucker up Sucker (bottom left)– The owner cited this as one of the more popular. The curd was delicious and pure, leaving out the excessive sweetness that exists with most lemon filling, resulting in a fantastic balance. It was also ingenious that the curd was spread throughout the middle of the doughnut like a sandwich. Jelly filled doughnuts at Tim Horton’s are like a lottery; you either hit the jackpot or get a smigin of filling which may or may not be the flavour you actually ordered.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time (bottom right)- The worst part of this creation was the fact that Peanut Butter and Jelly Time song (including Brian from Family Guy dressed up in a banana suit) got stuck in my head. Otherwise, It was surprisingly balanced and not over sweet.

Creme Brulee (top left)– Smart in concept but less explosive than its box mates.

Butter tart- (bottom middle) I didn’t understand this one. I think efforts failed in the attempt to reduce the signature sweetness of a butter tart. Maybe you’re best not to mess with this Canadian favorite.

Spicy Bourbon Cracker Jack (the duplicate)- By the time I ate it, I had forgotten it was spicy and was pleasantly surprised at the reminder. This was a great combination of snack nostalgia, subtle heat and just enough sweet.

My Take

I like the doughnut movement much more than the cupcake one. I think a deep fried piece of dough is a much better blank slate for creativity and VON has no lack of it. The passion of the owner, coupled the creativity of her wares makes VON doughnuts an exciting destination. Despite trying 5 varieties, I feel I have just scratched the surface. After all, I haven’t had the opportunity to try the Dill-Dough (ok..that didn’t sound right), which is normally served on Friday and Saturday or any of the seasonal treats that magically appear here and there. Although I don’t think I will ever again see the day where I can eat an apple fritter that looks like Madonna in Desperately Seeking Susan, I can still get some solace knowing there’s dill-doughs and one night stands to keep me happy.

Signs: Where Ordering a Beer Looks like a Ralph Macchio Impression

December 6, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

When I heard the name Signs I wondered if long-haired freaky people could apply or whether I needed a membership care to get inside. As I looked more into the restaurant, I found myself humming the five man electrical band lyrics out loud. Signs is another of a number of emerging restaurants which attempt to bring different humanitarian efforts into the kitchen. With restaurants like Paintbox and Hawthorne, which work on skills training (the former focuses on training and career path opportunities for people in the Regent Park area) and O.Noir, (whose theme is an awareness and employment of the blind by serving food in the dark), Signs provides career opportunities and growth for the Deaf in the hospitality industry.

Upon arrival you are greeted by a hostess who explains the process: You are served by somebody who is deaf and you sign your order using the prompts outlined on the menu. Sounds easy…it’s not. I’m the kind of guy who has struggled with every map and instruction manual ever made. This effort was no different. Take the beer list for example. I attempted to order a $9 cracked canoe using gestures that looked like Ralph Macchio cleaning Pat Morita’s car. The waiter sort of laughed and showed me the correct way; you simply make a zigzag with your finger to symbolize “cracked” and simulate paddling a canoe.

The decor is clean and fresh and the walls are lined with posters demonstrating how to sign letters of the alphabet along with a few important words including important potent potables such as Whisky and Vodka.

For dinner, I started with the $5 soup of the day (chicken and spinach I believe) which I once again failed sign properly and in my panic forgot to take a picture of. It was well-balanced and not overly salty.

For an entree I decided on the chicken piri-piri for $28. To order it, you had to sign a chicken (which is like giving yourself a beak) and signal the heat sign which is like making a fanning motion in front of your mouth. It was a bit slow to arrive and when it did, it was pretty average. It had moderate spice and was served with blandish roasted vegetables and a sweet potato side. The plate was very orange and looked a bit like a Halloween hangover.

For dessert, I decided against the 30 minute apple crisp (they offer a 30 minute dessert they bake from scratch nightly) that the rest of the table ordered and opted for the $9 Nutella Tiramisu instead. Once again, it was average at best although I enjoyed that despite using sickly sweet nutella, the use of cocoa powder among other things managed to keep it from turning it into a cloying confection.

My Take

Located on Yonge near Wellesley, Signs is definitely more of a tourist destination than one for a foodie. It gets good reviews on yelp and urbanspoon and is ranked 15th among over 6000 restaurants in Toronto on Tripadvisor. The space is large, roomy and clean and the staff are kind and courteous. There is humility when you order, especially if you have no spatial reasoning capabilities. The food is average at best but in the end didn’t necessarily diminish the experience. You also pay for the experience. A pint of cracked canoe is a whopping $9 and the chicken piri piri was $28. At least you can get a bowl of good soup for $5.

Signs is a mix of tourism and novelty sprinkled with hints of decent food In the end, is a humbling reminder that not everybody can hear bacon sizzle, hum Five Man Electrical Band or listen to Peter Cetera sign about the Glory of Love while the Karate Kid courts his girl with moves that look like me trying to order a pint of beer.