Stories Inspired by Pop Culture and a Little Comestible Criticism
Author: spennyrd
I like concerts, consuming, cooking and commenting. I try to tell stories as much as I review food
I plan trips around where I'm going to eat..whether it be Michelin stars, triple D's or celebrity chefs.
I write Fare..Eat..Ales to capture some of the surreal and sometimes painful experiences associated with my obsession.
Follow me on twitter @fareeatales, facebook (fareeatales) or follow the blog!
While in Vancouver, I had a business meeting in the private room at Cin Cin, an old school Italian eatery on Robson Street. I was shuffled to the private room which housed hundreds of bottles of wines, some at hundreds of dollars. Speaking of cost, expect to pay a pretty lira here; apps are $13-18, pastas start at $15 and entrees go from $30-45. Noise was an issue even in the private room. The only thing separating us and the boisterous outside crowd was a thin sheet of glass and a thick wood door that constantly opened and closed, allowing the drone of human banter to roll in like thick fog.There was a four course set menu featuring an array of choices for the appetizers, mains and desserts with a mushroom risotto as a middle dish.
I opted for tuna tartare to start. It was a large portion on the modest side of seasoning and acidity although I got the odd big chunk of salt here and there. The radish was a nice addition to add a bit of crunch to the otherwise silky texture.
Long line caught albacore tuna tartare
The risotto was well prepared and seasoned nicely. The rice had a subtle crunch and there were plenty of tender mushrooms scattered throughout. It was served hot and it held its temperature well.
Mushroom Risotto
The sable fish was treated with the utmost respect, its delicate integrity preserved in the cooking process. Ever bite melted like butter in my mouth. The mashed potatoes were subtle and allowed the fish to shine. The kale was simply and perfectly prepared and added great colour, texture and a punch of bitterness to the sweet filet and creamy mashed potatoes.
Sablefish
I strayed from my normal tendency to order tiramisu for dessert and opted for a lemon tart instead. It really wasn’t a tart; it was served cold and with a side of strawberry coulis that brought me back to days of scraping the last morsels of baby food off the side of the jar and shoveling it into my kid’s waiting mouth. The tart as a whole had that “sitting there for a bit” taste.
Lemon tart
There is pride in the service, characterized but constant wine and water pours by the head waiter who is as well seasoned as the risotto was. The table’s dishes were served by numerous waitstaff on a way that would make the Canadian synchronized swimming team envious. I received “Sir, that’s an excellent choice!” for each and every order I placed, an accolade I’m not sure was entirely deserved, especially in the midst of my tiramisu regret.
My Take
CinCin is a well established and expensive Italian restaurant promising good food, good service and good wine. The sablefish was spectacular and clearly the godfather of the evening. The rest of the food was more Godfather III. The decor is old school Italian villa; respectfully cheesy while embracing the dwindling art of old school service which is as much choreography as it is functional. However, there is no music for the dance. Instead there is plenty of noise which could become quite aggravating if you have anything important to say or hear…like how great my dinner choices were.
It was a swell night and I was sitting in a hotel at the Cleveland airport. I called down to Momocho Mod Mex and they assured me I would get in without too much of an issue. I arrived to be told it was a 30 minute wait but was seated after about 15. I opted for the patio which provided lots of room in nice backyard type surroundings.
I started with a michelada ( beer and hot sauce wit some lime and salt on the rim). Well done and good price point ($4.50) and I liked the ability to choose from any of the numerous Mexican and non-Mexican beers on the menu. I opted for an old school Tecate. There are also plenty of margarita choices on the menu as well.
After mulling over the array of guacamole (there’s everything from goat cheese to crab), I opted for the jicama/pineapple ($8.50). It was a big portion, was fresh and tasty but not as unique as I hoped. Maybe it was my choice!
The tamale dumplings ($8.50) were ordered as a side and were very authentic although served with the same side as the taquitos.
From the mains, I ordered the Machaca (brisket) ($15.50) and atun (tuna) ($17.50) taquito plates at the recommendation of the waiter. The tuna was a perfect medium rare and the brisket was tender and flavourful. The highlights were definitely the brisket and the blood orange marmalade that came with the tuna. The chile rajita served on the side was good but not spectacular.
Atun Taquitos (Tuna $17.50)Brisket
Dessert was the Capirotada ($6). Despite the unique menu description (gingersnap and jalapeno) and promise by the waiter, I would say it was an average bread pudding.
Dessert
Decor inside was unique and very tasteful. Cozy in and out even though some of the art is a bit creepy! Service was slow at times but the staff was pleasant.
My Take
All in all, a nice experience in a relaxed environment with refined, modern Mexican food, although the flavours became a bit monotonous as the meal progressed. The guacamole was a tiny let down, either because it was so highly touted or because I went conservative and shied away from the trout, crab, goat or blue cheese. This place is an atypical DDD in both cost (I found it a little pricy) and decor. Plus, I swear Guy Fieri was one of those strange masked men in the pictures hanging on the wall. It didn’t blow my mind but I also didn’t leave disappointed although I do believe,based on the pictures inside, I had a few nightmares of masked Mexican wrestlers administering full nelsons on me while screaming “Mi comida es la mejor del mundo” in my ear.
So a family from Bangladesh opens a french bistro in Little Italy and names it after an English naturalist. That’s Darwin. OK…allow me to put it into perspective. The owners did hire a french chef and even though it’s in Little Italy, it joins the onslaught of non-Mediterranean restaurants (Bar Isabel, Bestellen and Woodlot for example) which has opened in the area. Finally, according to the owners, the name pays homage to a man who adhered to a philosophy of “survival of the fittest”, a saying which is especially pertinent in the restaurant business.
I took one look at the menu and was intrigued to check it out. In essence, it’s primarily a French menu with some international flare at very reasonable prices. For example, most appetizers and cocktails are under $10 bucks and the 12 oz steak and frites comes in at $25.
Unfortunately, I picked the night of the great flood of 2013 to venture out. Thinking it was a good thing that humans evolved from fish, I waded down College St., umbrella in hand and found my destination at College and Grace. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy although a table of four older ladies was keeping the place alive. The decor is modern, a fusion of a traditional bistro and a trattoria. It’s a narrow space with a full wall mirror on one side and brick wall on the other (so it looks a bit bigger) that ends suddenly at a largish wooden bar that matches the rustic accented tables (although the legs are central so I did the stupid almost tip the table over thing a couple of times). There was one waiter who was a pleasant and knowledgeable guy with 15 years in the business who was most insightful and attentive during the evening.
An interesting twist on the classic drink, I started with a maple old fashioned made with Crown Royal in conjunction with the traditional ingredients and a touch of maple syrup. It was a pleasant blend and without abundant sweetness.
Maple Old-Fashioned $10
I opted for the shrimp cocktail ($10) which was also a spin on the original. The shrimp were spiced, cooked and served warm on a bed of creamed avocado. The menu promised mango as well, but I find the tiny cubes were few and far between, adding little to the dish. The avocado was fresh and simple and lacked the additional flavours present in guacamole and other popular dips and spreads. The shrimp was a little salty and swam in an excessive amount of green but there was a balance which made it pretty good.
Avocado Shrimp Cocktail $10
The moules and frites ($12) were another classic dish presented with a twist. The broth was reminiscent of a tom yum soup, bursting with south asian flavours. It was served with a spoon, an addition the very helpful waiter admitted was an afterthought after numerous requests. I found myself lapping the broth up as well. The frites were delicately done, fried “just to done” and seasoned with perfect amounts salt and rosemary. I would have loved a half a french baguette (for authenticity you know) to soak up all the remaining broth.
Moules and Frties $12
I shied away from the steak frites and instead went for the sauteed chicken on aligot mashed potato, a classic french dish. The chicken was moist although a bit underseasoned. The potatoes were surprisingly light and swam in a pool of tasty sauce. Overall, it was a decent dish and came in at an impressive $18. I paired it with a glass of Domaine de Joy “Cuvee Etolle” Blanc from France at a very reasonable $9.
Sauteed Chicken with Aligot Mashed Potatoes $18
On another note, I love sorrel and each of the dishes was garnished with this delightful and underutilized herb. It has a great taste, a mix of earthy, acid and sweet which complements most dishes quite nicely.
Although there is no formal dessert menu, there are a few choices which include a rum, banana bread pudding and homemade lemon tart. I opted for the former. It’s prepared individually in a ceramic dish and doused with chocolate sauce. I’m normally not a fan of chocolate in general, especially on bread pudding but this sauce was stunning, a perfect balance of sweet and bitter. In general, the dessert was not sickly sweet and the cloud-like bread mixed with the smooth sauce and small scoop of ice cream was textural bliss. The accompanying cappuccino was not great, but maybe we will leave that one to the Italians.
Bread Pudding
My Take
This place reminds me that good food can still be served at a reasonable price, a near forgotten philosophy that has kept many restaurants in business for decades. Not only was Darwin known for his belief in “survival of the fittest” ( by the way, for Jeopardy fans the term “survival of the fittest” was first coined by Herbert Spencer, not Charles Darwin), he was obviously known for his theory of evolution, another concept important in the survival of a restaurant. Darwin has plans…big plans. The waiter offered a quick tour of the large back patio which will be a stellar hangout once it is licensed. The idea is to have a raw bar and grill given the fact that the kitchen is quite small and would have difficulty handling more than the 35 or so seats in the main dining room. The menu is also under constant revision. Recently, the duck breast has been replaced with confit; the trout with salmon.
Darwin has a fresh decor and a decent menu with refreshing pricing. There are a number of cocktails and appetizers under $10 and no entrees for more than $25. Despite the prices, there is no compromise when it came to quality. The highlights were the moules (sneak in a baguette) and the bread pudding. The key to success will be an adherence to the foundations of the french menu without the standard pretension and pricing of other bistros coupled with an evolutionary philosophy and a damn good back patio…and maybe some help from Noah’s Ark on night’s like this..but wait…it is called Darwin afterall.
Earlier in the week, I received an email that was sent to me by a colleague with a simple question:
Want to check out Carnitas Don Pedro with me? Attached was a link from a recent Globe and Mail article titled “Overheard in Chicago:Three Pork Brain Tacos, please”. Published in May, it was Jacob Richler’s summary of a visit to one of the many “authentic” Mexican cantinas in Chicago. My answer was a resounding yes.
So…a Limey, a Scot and a Jew go to a Carnita joint….
Three of us hopped a cab and took the trek down W 18th Street. As we approached our destination, I realized it was a far cry from the rich moles, vibrant cocktails and impeccable service I experienced at the equally authentic Topolobampo less than 18 hours earlier. No margaritas, no sommilier, no celebrity chef…just a cold soda and piles of pork served a dozen ways by people who have never had a food network special or heard of a James Beard nomination.
We navigated through the busy store front (which doubles as a takeout counter) and sat at a modest table topped with napkins and a small, spanish menu. We shrugged and collectively used our Canadian minds and shallow understanding of French to try and decifer the choices until the smiling lady came over, smiled and politely pulled the menu out of the napkin holder and turned it over to the english side. At the same time, plastic bowls of salsa, pickled jalapenos, cilantro and onions were placed on the table along with a paper container of chicharrones, of as us anglophones say…. “pork rinds”. They are sort of synonymous with an offering of bread at an Italian dinner. Like a good loaf of Italian bread, the chicharrones were crunchy when you bit them but melted in your mouth shortly after. It was kind of a bacon meets bread experience.
Chicharrones (aka Pork Rinds)Condiments
For the taco choice, we opted for the pork ribs which were simply prepared and presented bone-in. Warm tortilla shells were added to the table and assembly began. The tortillas were warm, the meat was delicious and well worth any effort needed to dissect the small bones from the tender flesh.
Carnitas (Ribs)Assembled Taco
We ordered the iconic pork brain tacos which were presented in taboo fashion. The brain was wrapped in a hard shell and held together with toothpicks. The somewhat mushy texture of the filling justified the crunchy exterior. The taste was well….interesting. It had a complexity and oddness synonomous to haggis. They certainly wouldn’t be for everybody but there was a sinful satisfaction I got out chewing one down.
Pork Brain tacos
My reason for ordering Menudo soup was threefold. First, although I didn’t indulge in too many cocktails at Topobambalo the night before, I wanted to see if Menudo, also called hangover soup, would clear up the my slight grogginess. Second, I have a mild fear of tripe and wanted to see if I could eat something to overcome my phobia. Third, I wanted to convince myself that the word “Menudo” could mean more than the boy band (which eventually included Ricky Martin) that plagued my eardrums in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Although much better than the band, I have to admit I still have a slight disdain for tripe although the broth was a rich adventure in classic Mexican flavours including lime, chili, onion and cilantro.
Good MenudoBad Menudo
My Take
Don Pedro’s makes you feel like you’re a member of a surrogate family for the hour you are there. The food is amazing and the staff are friendly, jovial and helpful. You may get a few odd looks from the locals (afterall, we were the only Caucasians in the place, wearing dress shirts and taking pictures like idiot tourists). The total bill for three of us was $19, about the same price as bringing a bottle of wine to your mom’s house for a family dinner….and last time I checked, she can’t make carnitas (I don’t even think she knows what they are).
Stop #2– Sepia
I chose Sepia for dinner for a number of reasons. I was entertaining a wine afficianato, trying to appease somebody with a simple palate and make a steak lover happy. In addition, a Michelin star and my curiousity over the cuisine of Andrew Zimmerman (not Andrew Zimmern), the executuve chef who has received numerous culinary accolades over the past few years didn’t hurt. My simple palate reference is no disrespect to either the diner or Sepia itself, but the concept of sticking to seasonal, fresh and local food.
Of course, things never work out. For a number of reasons, my party dwindled from 8 to 5. Other than the rather snooty hostess nobody seemed to mind. We were asked to sit at the bar for a few minutes while they rearranged the table. I grabbed a beer and before we were seated, we were asked to settle the bill…which I found a bit odd since we weren’t leaving. I was hoping this wasn’t a foreshadowing of the service to come.
Based on the storefront and bar, the dining room was surprisingly large and made the fact that this was a 19th century print shop a little more believable. The tables were spaced nicely and the noise level was moderate. Our waiter arrived shortly after and took some time to explain the premise of the menu. When he left, they turned to me and started asking numerous questions about the menu.
Ok….here’s a small rant. I don’t like the word foodie. I like food, I think I know food but I don’t consider myself a foodie. Other people do, however, and ask me to explain everything. Foodies are like Alex Trebek. Alex reads out question after question and acts like he actually would know every answer if he didn’t have them in front of his face. He shakes his head and proclaims “Oooo, I’m sorry, the answer is French Polynesia” like you’re a freaking idiot. Many foodies are self-proclaimed experts who check out the menu in advance so they can look intelligent in front of their guests when they can explain what brandade is. Otherwise, they either do the smartphone check under the table or excuse themselves to the restroom and pull the google stall search to prepare for the anticipated questions.
I did my best with the barrage of questions (at least I knew what matcha was) but when the waiter returned he was asked about chermoula, ramps, roman gnocchi, togarashi, artichokes barigoule and bavette (see below for answer key). Without hesitation, he answered every question without a hitch in a friendly and non-condescending manner.
The amuse bouche was a simple strawberry and a thin fennel slice on top of some soft cheese. It tasted exactly like it looked but the small piece of fennel gave it a crunch that really worked.
Amuse Bouche
For the appetizer, I opted for the crispy egg (surprise, surprise) atop mushrooms, asparagus and ramps. The egg was a perfect soft boiled, the batter was crunchy and not greasy and the bed of stew was delicious. At $15, it should have been a golden egg.
Crispy Soft Cooked Egg
For the entree, I went for the waygu bavette and pastrami with a potato cake served in the middle. The pastrami was brined nicely and tender to the point where a knife was unnecessary. The bavette was cooked medium rare and was seasoned delicately. Despite the small portion size, the dish was decadent and I actually didn’t finish it.
Waygu Bavette and Pastrami
A special shout out goes to the duck fat fried fingerling potatoes. Need I say more???? They tasted like they looked.
Duck Fat Fried Potatoes
For dessert, I opted for the ginger snaps with ricotta, tarragon mustard ice cream, walnuts and honey. It was a bit tricky to eat but was presently beautifully and tasted the same.
Gingersnap Dessert
The consensus at the table was that the food was top notch. The winners were the english pea agnolotti starter, the bavette entree and the malted milk chocolate mousse for dessert.
My Take
Sepia is a true testament to local, fresh and well prepared food. Despite the complex menu descriptions, the flavours are surprising simple and can appease all palates. The service staff is knowledgeable and not condescending. The meal flowed nicely although it did take a while to put our orders in (partly due to our culinary illiteracy). The portions are smallish, the prices are highish but good value is there just given the quality of the food. I’ll take french cuisine for $600 Alex.
Glossary
Brandade- an emulsion of salt cod and olive oil
Chermoula-s a marinade used in Algerian, Moroccan and Tunisian cooking.
Ramps- An early spring vegetbale also called a wild leek.
Roman Gnocchi- Potatoless gnocchi with lots of Parmesan cheese
Artichokes barigoule- artichokes with onions, garlic and carrots and wine
Bavette- bottom sirloin/flank steak
Togarashi- Japanese chili peppers or chili pepper products
Any blog that has anything to do with Donald Trump means the possible insertion of jokes about getting fired, bad hair or something to do with the apprentice.
A team function brought me to Stock, located on the 31st floor of Trump Tower. There’s a couple of things I would expect when dining at a restaurant affiliated with Donald Trump; waiters with bad hair (dammit!) and at least one staff member getting fired every night (D’oh!). Seriously, I would hope to view a few self-entitled pretentious patrons and enjoy a dining experience with unparamount attention to detail.
For goal number one, it didn’t take long. Upon arrival, I was handed a very good glass of what I recall was a Spy Valley Sauvignon Blanc and shuffled out to the balcony for some hors d’oeuvres. It was a chilly night, so I wasn’t surprised to see a couple (ie. man and woman) enjoying a couple of fine cigars and swirling some sort of amber potable while seated in the corner of the balcony as the waiters circulated with appetizers in hand . Since it was a chilly eve, they were wearing matching fur shawls. Whether supplied by the hotel or not, it’s pretty irrelevant. MATCHING FUR SHAWLS! Awesome. Mission accomplished (sorry no picture).
As for the hors d’oeuvres, I was offered prosciutto wrapped scallops, shucked oysters with fresh horse radish and fried portobello mushrooms with truffle aioli. The proscitto was a delicate diversion from the usual bacon and provided enough salt to balance the buttery sweet scallop which was cooked perfectly. The oyster was fresh and meaty. I must digress on the mushroom as I have publicly called for the banishment of both truffle and aioli as a food trend. Eating this simple finger food makes me want to take it all back. The mushroom was moist and the batter crispy….and yes, the aioli was good.
ScallopMushroom with Truffle Aioli
It was a set menu but I found the choices innovative and appealing. My starter was the octopus. It was executed well….still tender and fired properly (ok..stopping). It was seasoned well and the tender potato added some delicate earthiness to complement this treasure from the sea.
Octopus
For the entree, I ordered black cod with an edamame puree and lightly fried greens. The well seasoned flesh was glistening but wasn’t raw. The fork cut through it like butter and tasted the same. The subtle crunch of the crispy vegetables was the perfect complement from both a taste and texture perspective. From the land side, I managed to secure a small portion of the filet which was served with a vibrant pink hue indicative of a good medium rare..simple but satisfying.
Black Cod8 oz filet
Dessert was from the chocolate cart which circulated while peddling its house made wares to patrons like an ice cream truck in a subdivision. A sinful array of truffles and other delicacies weaved through the tables offering rich and artisan delicacies which were another example of the delicious attention to detail which was evident throughout the evening.
Chocolate Cart
The meal finished with some Niagara ice wines and a tasty Taylor Fladgate, 10 yr old tawny port which was simply delicious.
My Take
I expected dinner at Stock to be a adventure in posh dining and a possible fulfillment of my champagne wishes and caviar dreams. Instead of white linens, candlelight and a waiter named Jeeves, the decor was casual and comfortable and the food was the standard fare you would see at any other eatery in the area. The concepts were simple and the execution was near flawless.
Ok….I did take a quick peak at the online dinner menu and the prices were quite acceptable and rival some of the higher end restaurants in Toronto. The octopus is $17, the cod $34 and the filet is $42. The truffles are $3 a piece.
In the end, I got what I was looking for…my paparazzi experience, a good wine/port buzz and a well executed meal from start to finish. Donald, thanks for making Toronto a better place to dine, one fur shawl at a time.
The early morning humidity didn’t stop me from taking a 30 minute walk to West Randolph, an interesting stretch known for an array of restaurants of all shapes and sizes. After the first wave of high end places (including a few touting Michelin stars), you hit a block of empty, spray-painted buildings, cut in half by a highway running underneath. Shorty after, the street becomes vibrant again, filled with microbreweries and eateries slapped with celebrity names like Graham Elliot.
The apex of this West Randolph landscape is a cute spinning goat overlooking the street. This was destination number one.
Stop #1- The Little Goat Diner
This Stephanie Izard spin-off offers a bit more versatility than the flagship Girl and the Goat. You can grab a quick breakfast, feast on a hearty dinner and everything in between. You can buy of loaf of bread or drink on the roof. This particular visit was of the breakfast variety. It was about half full and we were seated quickly at a booth. The place had a definite diner vibe. I felt like John Travolta in Pulp fiction. The waiters and waitresses were current and hip and bad-ass despite donning trendy yet old school diner uniforms. There’s something about raven tattoos and dainty dresses that works for me. Coffee flowed, served with smiles and poured from old school pots into mugs stamped with that cute, smiling goat.
A Good Ol’ Fashioned Coffee
The menu is equally dichotomous. One can simply grab bacon and eggs or venture into the creative realm of a number of more exotic options. I didn’t come to Chicago to eat standard fare, so I did what any warm-blooded Irish dude would do; I ordered spaghetti. Presented like a cross between a seafood pasta and an omelette, it was boldly flavoured and sat in a delicious broth. I asked for some hot sauce and was offered a housemade smoky chipotle and an apricot flavoured option which had a little more bite. Both were delicious although I feel the former more suited for the dish. It’s not for everybody, but I’d shelve the home fries any day to dig into this seafood medley.
Breakfast spaghetti ‘n clams ‘n crab $15
My colleague went for the bull’ s eye french toast, a crafty demonstration of Korea meets chicken and waffles meets toad in the hole. The sweet dueled with the savory in every bite to create a stimulating battlefield on the tongue. Underneath the chicken, two slightly overcooked eggs stared up from the comfort of the thick brioche. In the end, the savory prevailed, so don’t order it if you need to satisfy your sweet tooth. Otherwise, It’s delicious.
Bull’s eye french toast $16
My Take: With so many choices, I’ll have to come back whether it be breakfast, lunch, dinner or sucking back drinks on the rooftop. It’s full of innovation and choices that only makes sense when you read them on a menu. Plus, I enjoy feeling like a Chicago gangster as I sip coffee in an old school diner surrounded by tattooed staff and riffraff such as myself. Don’t expect diner prices, however. It’s not a cheap, unless you come for the experience and settle for one of the daily breakfast specials.
Stop #2– Naha
A lunch appointment kept me downtown for a trip to Naha, a Michelin star restaurant with a bit of a middle eastern flare. It’s spacious and modest, reminiscent of a Moroccan villa. The waitstaff were courteous, although many were wearing these oddly large uniforms that just didn’t seem to fit. A full lunch menu is offered in what seemed to be Chicago fashion: a prix fixe menu for $22. After consuming the Little Goat breakfast earlier that day, I was sort of hoping for Blackbird type portions sizes to save the embarrassment of the ramifications of overindulgence. When asked if I wanted a beverage, I found that the beer selection was quite lame…..a bit of a cardinal sin in the heart of the craft brew craze which consumes the Midwest.
I started with the cannelloni which was stuffed with housemade ricotta and garnished with snap peas, jerusalem artichokes and a bit of fregola (small pasta balls). Nothing like some pasta on pasta action. It was a very delicate, had great texture contrast and fresh flavour….an ideal lunchtime starter.
Spinach Cannelloni
For the main, I opted for the sea loup de mer (sea bass) which wasn’t much bigger than the starter. It appeared to be a twist on a bagna cauda( a dip with strong Mediterranean flavours) which served as a salad dressing on romaine lettuce instead of being served in the typical vessel. The fish was a bit dry and the flavours reminded me of a well-disguised ceasar salad. It was a little bit of a yawn.
Loup de Mer
My colleague opted for a mezze (ie sampler) of Mediterranean goodies which included hummus, babaganoush, string cheese, spiced beef etc. It offered a true experience minus the salt water smell one might experience if eating the same thing in the homeland itself (I don’t think the smell off of Lake Michigan could mimic…even if the windows were open).
Naha Mezze
The dessert menu incorporated concepts from this side of the ocean, ignoring the expected tiramisu and baklava and replacing with American classics such as ice cream, malt and caramel corn. I went with the sundae, served with with porter ice cream topped with a crackling chocolate topping and a bit of European infusion with the use of toasted hazelnuts and a couple of triangles of nutella panini. The other choice at the table was a chocolate pave with the aforementioned sprinkles of Americana and a gold leaf as a tribute to capitalism. Both were a fitting end to a meal. There were no surprises…just well constructed and executed desserts which would be deemed delicious by anybody on the either side of the ocean.
SundaeChocolate Pave
My Take: Naha offers a well-executed lunch by fusing strong Mediterranean flavours and techniques with beloved elements of Americana. For the most part, the execution was on the mark and the portion sizes were acceptable, at least for lunch. The North American inspired desserts were the star, an irony for a place whose concepts are rooted in elements of the Middle East. The meal was well paced, the service was decent and the decor was spacious and fresh.
Stop #3– Billy Goat Tavern
Between the Billy Goat curse and the famed SNL appearance, it’s a foregone conclusion that one has to drop by this tavern during a trip to Chicago (especially on the heels of a visit to Wrigley). I won’t go into the details of the curse (you can look it up on the website, wikipedia etc.) but it involves a goat and a bunch of men….enough said.
Basically, it’s a place with the burgers, coke, beer and a spattering of other snack foods. The walls are plastered with faded newspaper articles and signed pictures and accolades from generations past. The grey-haired bartender looks like he’s won a trivia contest or two in his time and courteous staff pan the floors looking for empty steins to refill.
I ordered a burger for three bucks and change and a beer for about the same. The thin, pre-made patty is served on an oversized bun. The condiment station has the standard toppings, although I found the onions two ways rather intriguing. You could choose finally diced or thick (and I mean thick) rings. I loaded up with a pile of pickles as well. It was exactly was I expected and exactly what I wanted; a burger which brought me back to the days when it didn’t cost twenty bucks and wasn’t served with pineapple, mango, fried egg, short rib, pulled pork, bone marrow, avocado or housemade BBQ sauce. It’s just a freaking $3 burger.
Billy Goat Tavern burger and Beer
Neither the burger nor the beer will win any culinary awards, but I consider the $6 cost the price of admission for a small bite of Chicago history.
Stop #4- Topolobampo
I’ve been eying Rick Bayless’ Michelin star Topolobampo even since I ate tortilla soup at his place in the airport a couple of years ago. Plus, I’ve been mesmerized by his soothing voice while watching “Mexico: One plate at a time” and even attempted one of his moles as well as a short rib recipe, both with good success and a lot of sweat. I routed for him on Top Chef Masters and follow him on twitter. Ya..maybe it’s manlove but I was longing to experience Mexican in an environment other than the numerous taquerias which have appeared throughout Toronto.
Showing up was like entering a busy Mexican market…buzzing people all over place and busy servers navigating nachos and guacamole through the streaming crowds. I was very loud and I wondering how I would hear myself think I was went to the desk to check in. I was greeted by two gentlemen who barely looked twenty; dressed in bright colours, trendy ties and the look of either a beachfront Tommy model or a member of One Direction. They confirmed the reservation I had 4 months before and we were notified of the token short wait as they got the table ready. With the announcement, I was prepared to deal with the abundant noise that was in store for the evening. Instead, a magic door open and we were whisked into a room with half the decibels of the waiting area. We were seated, the door was shut and it felt as if we were transformed in to a secret VIP space. Water was immediately served in large, heavy blue glasses and the night began, but that’s another story…..
It’s a daunting task when you driving down Queen East from downtown at 7:30 am looking for a place to grab a coffee and maybe a bite. The classic hot spots such as Lady Marmalade, Bonjour Brioche and Tulip are still waking up so the liquid remedy of coffee with the possibility of a pastry may be all that exists.
I progressed down the empty street, sun in my eyes and saw a Starbucks on the right and parked, ready to succumb to over roasted coffee and a generic breakfast sandwich. Instead, I spied the Mercury Espresso bar, which has a relative smallness of the planet itself. I walked into a small line, staring down as I flipped the plastic between my fingers, almost convincing myself this was a cash only joint and I would have to cross the street or find a high service ATM in the vicinity. I let the question “Do you take credit?” squeak out of my mouth. The answer was a resounding yes…minus AMEX of course. With that, I ordered an americano. He did have a shade of baristattitude, but he kept it in the realm of confident versus cocky. In order to get the bill up a bit, I ordered a nutella cookie as a compromise to the sandwich I would have ordered at Starbucks. I was also interested in the coffee on the shelf and chose a Matalapa from El Salvador roasted by George Howell which subsequently has turned out to be a fabulous cup of joe at home.
The americano is one of the better I have had in a while. It was smooth and like a flower garden; complete with fragrant blossoms and was neither under or over watered. The cookie was pretty good too.
Nutella CookieGeorge Howell Coffee
My Take
Mercury will be a regular stop on my way to the office, although I’m only there half a dozen times a year. I will also grab a bag of coffee while I’m at it. There’s nothing special about the place other than the brew (and maybe the daily trivia question) and I suspect the bright sun, slight breeze and serenity of an empty Toronto street may have catalyzed the experience, but I’ll take it over of the many possible destinations of the timbucktoos scattered along the route regardless of the time of day.
I arrived at Chicago’s infamous O’Hare airport at 7 am. I ran into a customer on the plane. Upon takeoff, she kindly offered me her copy of Oprah’s magazine to read on the plane, so I figured what the hell…I was going to Chicago and I did learn how to remove a mole with surgery. When we landed, we agreed to head into the core together. To my surprise, there wasn’t a cab to be found. Eventually, one arrived and it was the first of many pristine cabs (yes, I actually enjoyed the cabs in Chicago despite their stop and go and hornophilic nature) I would take during the week. The drive was slow and I eventually arrived at the Intercontinental Hotel on the magnificent mile. My room was ready, I dumped my bag and heading for a day of culinary adventure.
Stop 1– Grahamwich
Anybody who knows me is aware I’m a sucker for celebrity chefs. Graham Elliot’s sandwich shop, Grahamwich, allowed me to experience the fares of the heavy man without the need for a heavy wallet. Sitting downtown, it offers an arrays of sandwiches with sides including popcorn, chips, pickles and even soft serve ice cream. It’s a simple joint, with minimal seating and the trademark GE symbol painted here and there. It also has one of the most annoying songs I have ever heard on a website and no apparent way to turn it off. The staff resembled Graham himself, with slicked hair and wide-rimmed specs, although few would be able to mimic the speech of expectations related to cutting through the bread of a perfectly toasted sandwich.
I opted for the waldorf chicken sandwich which included grapes, walnuts, gorgonzola and celery for $8. I threw in a large order of local pickles on the side and a homemade vanilla kola for $3 each. For good measure, I grabbed a maple bacon Long John which I venture to guess was a product of local bakery Glazed and Infused for $4.
I grabbed my “To Go” pack, hopped on the subway, and jaunted up to Wrigley field to check out the field. Grabbing a bench outside the park, I dug in.
Wrigley Field
The most underrated component of a sandwich is the texture. This one was a home run! Each bite was like a great pitching performance and a couple of base hits; the chicken salad that was firm and not soggy and it had perfect walnut and celery crunch and juicy pops of grape. Delicious! I opened the cup holding two flavours of pickles (traditonal kosher dill and spicy). Equally delicious. The drink was subtly sweet and very vanilla flavoured, a polarity that might turn off a soda-pop purists. All in all, a great lunch by a great park. I even thought I saw a few tourists scanning the neighbourhood looking for the source of my lunchtime bliss.
Chicken Waldorf Sandwich and Pickles
Satisfied, I snapped a few pics and hopped back on the subway and heading up the red line to stop #2. Along the way, I succumbed to the donut and tore off a quarter. Anybody that thinks the combination of maple, bacon and donuts works…you’re right! It was sweet and salty and doughy. Let’s call it an achievement of the donut triple crown….or maybe the Cy Yum award.
Maple Bacon Donut (presumably from Glazed and Infused)
Stop #2- Metropolis Coffee
There’s a lot of hype about this coffee (it is served at GE’s restaurants after all), so I was hoping the subway ride up would be worth the visit. I walked past the patio (complete with the classic picture of my favorite bird with a smoke hanging out of his mouth and a caption reading “No Puffin”…come to think of it, how would a puffin get a cigarette in its mouth to begin with or light it for that matter) and into the rather large interior. The patrons were like a chess board; all sorts of sizes and shapes. On the other hand, the staff were similar; young and tattooed and ready to brew. I grabbed a Chemex (pronounced Chem-ex, not chem-A as some of us Canadians like to say in err) made with a nice Guatemalan bean. The execution was flawless and allowed 10 minutes or so for friendly banter. They take their coffee seriously and the final product reflected it. The payment machines were down, so I got a pat on the back and a “just pay when you leave”. Great coffee, great service, great sign. By the way, I remembered to pay…can’t risk the karma coffee.
Metropolis Coffee Front Counter
Stop #3– BIG and Little’s
Knowing I was in for a late dinner, I figured a mid-afterrnoon snack was in order. I decided to take a walk downtown and ended up at my first diner, drive-in and drive of the trip. BIG and Little’s is the brainchild of Hell’s Kitchen contestant Tony D’Alessandro, who was remembered having issues with segmenting grapefruit and who’s early and subtle exit was overshadowed by a volcanic blowup by some guy wanting to punch Ramsey in the face. Since then, he has found success in this cash only taco/burger/fish shack. It’s like a beach canteen in the middle of the city minus the seagulls, crying kids and barefoot patrons. The staff were friendly and the service was quick. I ordered a Big and Little fish taco and al pastor (pork belly). Both tacos were good although I found too much sauce on the first and not enough rendering on the latter. Otherwise, the fish was cooked perfectly (although it was swimming in a sea of lettuce) and the belly was well seasoned and worked well combined with a few sweet pineapple chunks. The fois gras and fries and fish and chips looked divine, but I was going out for dinner later so I toned down a bit, not knowing of the microscopy-requiring meal to come.
Tacos al pastor and BIG and Little’s tacos- $4 and $3.50
Verdict- 3.5 Guyz
Stop #4– Blackbird
I’m going to do a full review in a separate blog, but one of the dangers of Michelin star restaurants is portion size. In this case, Blackbird could be renamed “Blackbird Food”. Bitesize frog leg portions, matchbox sized sturgeon and half a chicken wing were highlights of the dishes served. Although the flavours were nice, the crowded room, average service and the aforementioned small bites left this star shining dimly. The desserts were good though!
It was three o’clock on a Saturday, and the regular crowd shuffled in. There was lots of old men next to me, making love to their surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym.
That was the scene. I tend to go to DDD during off hours to avoid crowds but it looks like there is no lull here. There was a short wait list and 5 of us were seated within 15 minutes of arriving.
I agree with many other reviews about the no nonsense attitude of the waitstaff. It’s not a bad thing. If you want traditional Polish food served traditionally, you got it! Goblets, bowls and plates are slammed down throughout the meal, but in an efficient and endearing way. I mean, they carry 5 or 6 glasses at a time on a tray and I needed two hands just to lift it up to my mouth.
Big Heavy Beer
Any place that makes 6 soups a day is a friend of mine. I had two..the dill pickle and the chicken noodle. Based on the DDD endorsement and other ratings of the pickle soup I expected a bit more but it was good. The chicken noodle soup was straight forward and delicious and somewhere around $2.50.
Dill Pickle Soup
Five of us tried the cabbage rolls and five of us were happy. The tomato sauce was simple and tart. The cabbage was cooked but not soggy. The filling was zachwycający (delicious). Even the beans and mashed potato fit the theme perfectly….simple, traditional and homey.
Cabbage Rolls
The Surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym is sausage with beer sauce. The kielbasa was tasty, seasoned well and big and the sauce was a nice, heartwarming compliment. The kraut, however, stole the show.
Surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym
I was talking to Davy, who sure liked the gravy…..the Hungarian pancake was over the top. I saw it on DDD and thought Guy was pulling tricks on me. He wasn’t. Everything was done exactly as described on the show and the flavours were rich. This dish was phenomenal. Even bite was different but with an underlying sameness that was delicious. From an authenticity perspective, pork vs beef is a mundane argument when the seasoning and complexity of the dish is so incredible.
Hungarian pancake-
The biggest disappointment was the pierogi. They were rather bland and overcooked. This may be a difference of opinion, but I prefer a softer dumpling, not one with a crunchy exterior. They were decent but not what I had hoped for.
Pierogi
Dessert was two crepes, one apple and one cheese. I ordered this because the waitress said they were both homemade. Apple was great. Cheese was a bit chalky and wasn’t helped by the sour cream. Some of the tasty apple compote on the side would of been a better balance in regards to taste and flavour.
My Take
Portions are plentiful and the food is good. The menu is diverse enough to appeal to any combination of people you choose to dine with. Just don’t expect too many smiles, except for the mischievous…..ok, creepy dolls which adorn the walls. Polish Village cafe…..we’re all in the mood for a melody and you got us feeling alright.
Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum.
Verdict
Despite the pierogi, this place still gets 5 Guyz!
Pacific junction hotel is a newish joint on King East. The exterior blue gives this place away at street level and the inside is even more eccentric. It looks like a garage sale gone wrong, complete with a bathtub posing as a seat, formica tables and mismatched chairs ranging from cast iron to benches. A large TV hangs over the dining room and at the time was projecting life size images of Guy Fieri biting into sloppy sandwiches.
Although it sounds like it should be in Vancouver, I imagine the name of the restaurant has something to do with the fact that it’s a mix of food found in countries with some association with the Pacific Ocean. It’s sort of an Asia meets Mexico thing, with a little South America thrown in for good measure. Oddly, there’s also a bit of the Atlantic ocean added in the form of a few jerk recipes. You can choose among wraps and rolls,burgers, tacos or a mishmash of standard bar food including nachos or artichoke dip. There are a few vegetarian options as well.
The menus were thrown on the table and the waitress quickly disappeared. They looked well-used, a few pages of printed paper housed with duo tangs that probably had everything from hot sauce to draught beer spilled all over it. The cocktails feature rum or tequila/mezcal, served in a mason jar or a bowl. There are also a few beer (either in a jar or a pitcher) available as well. I opted for a jalapeno/pineapple mojito in a large jar for $9.30. It was minty and sweet although the added flavours were almost undetectable. I should of savored it more but I was unaware it would be the only drink I was having on this night.
Jalapeno and Pineapple Mojito $9.30
I started with bison sliders for $13. Each were topped with a different concoction of flavours although I was particularly interested in the blueberry compote. They arrived in a Asian bamboo steamer. The patties were overdone, charred to the point where the toppings (even the blueberry!) couldn’t save them. The chips were hidden in the second steamer beneath and were ordinary and unseasoned but were made a bit better with a slather of hot sauce sitting at the table.
Next were the chimichurri tacos (3 for$12). It’s almost tearful to watch beef tenderloin cooked beyond recognition. Even the shells were overdone and cracked when I attempted to bend them. The intense heat and acid I expect from a good chimichurri was absent.
Chimichurri Tacos ($12)
At this point, with my mojito drained in an attempt to offset the dry meat (I wasn’t so much as offered a water at any point in the evening) I ordered one of the half dozen or so draught beer available. Perhaps she was upset at the fact I asked her to recite the choices (I had to laugh because one of them was simply “IPA”), but I never saw it. She walked by a few times and scanned the table but no pint arrived despite the fact I had no drinking vessel anywhere is my vicinity.
Spinach dip is an iconic bar food that’s a bit difficult to master. In addition to flavour, it needs to achieve that optimal solidity window, meaning it’s neither too runny or too thick. The dip hit the mark in flavour, but once it cooled a bit, it was near impossible to navigate through it, especially with the skinny, generic, rainbow nachos chips (yes, 2005 called and they want their trend back).
Spinach Dip ($10.50)
Finally, there were the spring wraps. More commonly called spring rolls, they are usually available for about $4 at any Thai restaurant (maybe $5 if they throw shrimp in it). The price points at the junction were $8 and $12 respectively. Both the rolls and the side sauce were pretty average and not worth the price, even with dry tortilla thingys on the side.
Mango Spring Wraps ($8??!!)
My Take
Serving overcooked bison sliders in a bamboo steamer is not fusion…..it’s confusion. The tacos were average at best and the mango spring rolls were overpriced. The artichoke dip was flavorful but once it cooled below the dipping point the frail chips didn’t stand a chance. The service was not good.
In other words, Pacific Junction Hotel reminds me of going to that house in the neighbourhood with the guy who entertains out of his cluttered garage. Everybody calls him Uncle Gus because he burns his eyebrows off twice a year singeing meat with a three foot flame while the wife attempts to cook ethnic food with bottled sauces and her fingers crossed. Their disgruntled daughter is forced to help serve as opposed to locking herself in her room to share anecdotes of her embarrassing parents with her facebook friends. Even worse, the six-pack you bring over to drown the predicted pain suddenly disappears and you’re left drinkless for the remainder of the evening and develop a increasing desire to drink out of the garden hose.
Much like the Bermuda Triangle may be the bane of the Atlantic Ocean, the junction may be that of the Pacific, with the triangle representing bad service, bad decor and bad food.
Fare..Eat..Ales 