Toronto Reviews – Page 4 – Fare..Eat..Ales

Mr. Flamingo, Mr. Featherstone, Mr. Pink and Ms. Sitherwood all in an Avian Mating Dance Orgy

December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Flamingos are one of the more recognized avian species in popular culture. Whereas the bald eagle is synonymous with courage and nobility, the flamingo is a bit more mysterious and is often associated much less stoic characteristics.

The Flamingo hotel, for example, is the longest standing (and probably cheesiest) hotel on the famed Las Vegas strip. Afterall, it is decorated with pink shag carpets and a live wildlife habitat featuring the namesake birds.

“Pink Flamingos” was a low budget movie directed by John Waters, the odd director who brought us the original cult classics “Hairspray” and “Serial Mom” was notorious for working with even stranger actors and actresses like Divine, Traci Lords and Ricki Lake.

Although not entirely related, when I heard the name of the restaurant I couldn’t help of think of Mr. Pink in Reservoir Dogs . In what I would argue is the most famous Tarantino restaurant scene after the five-dollar milkshake in Pulp Fiction, Mr. Pink, played by Steve Buscemi, goes on a rant about the concept of tipping, arguing that it should not be an automatic gesture (he must have visited a few places in Toronto’s west end along his travels).

On the small screen, flamingos, along with other Florida vestiges such as fancy cars, jai alai, dog racing, beaches and boobs were prominent in the iconic opening credits of Miami Vice. Speaking of televisions shows, the short lived prime-time soap opera called Flamingo Road starred Morgan Fairchild and Mark Harmon dealt with the frantic and fast-paced lives of elite Floridians.

All of this said, perhaps the most recognizable use of the pink flamingo in popular culture is the plastic lawn ornament. Primarily used to signify key life events (like a 50th birthday let’s say), this tacky accessory was first produced by Don Featherstone , an employee of the union plastic company in Massachusetts. This achievment was significant enough to have him recognized in a New York times obituary the day after his June 22, 2015 death. Here are a few interesting facts about the pink flamingo:

They were initially offered in the late 50’s sold for $2.76/pair in the Sears catalog.
In 1999, the city council of Madison, Wisconsin voted the plastic flamingo, coined Phoenicopterus ruber plasticus by Featherstone himself, as the city’s official bird.
In the 2011 Disney film “Gnomeo and Juliet”, there is a flamingo named Featherstone which is an interesting twist given the well- established competition between the gnome and the pink bird for cheesy lawn ornament supremacy.

Probably the oddest use the Flamingo is the Quebec food company whose catch line is “an excellent source of fun”. First, the primary foodstuffs produced by the Flamingo company are poultry products which is just weird. Second, I don’t equate the consumption of chicken burgers as fun, yet alone an excellent source of it.

All of this said, I can only speculate as to the rationale behind Mr. Flamingo’s name. I think some would speculate that the bird symbolizes the simple yet swanky theme of the restaurant. The menu consists of small plates which in many cases contain upper echelon foods such as oysters, fois gras and truffles.

Although, I would almost expect a cocktail to be named after Mr. Featherstone ,I couldn’t find one so I ordered the bourbon based Ms. Sitherwood ($14) instead. The first page of a google search identified Ms. Sitherwood as the Chief Executive Officer of The Laclede Group although I have no idea if that’s relevant at all. It was served in a dainty glass adorned with mint leaves. The general vibe of the drink was a sophisticated but not mind-blowing long island ice tea ($14).

Before I go into the food choices, let me say that the staff were extremely accommodating. The menu prices listed on the web are for a specific portion but they were more than happy to modify the portions and prices in some cases (eg. oysters and scallops) so that everybody had at least one piece. Futhermore, they split the bill in 5 and printed one out for each of us. These things seem simple but can be surprisingly hard to find among many Toronto eateries.

Since we had a fairly large table, we were able to order most of the menu. First on the list was the steak tartare ($14) served with a quail egg and chips. It had a symmetrical and pretty appearance and its moderate spice was driven more by pepper than other heat sources.

The burrata ($16) was served with a gorgeous tomato salad. The cheese was seasoned nicely and had a beautiful texture similar to that of a soft boiled egg; firm on the outside and runny in the middle.

The lobster based oysters ($3.50/piece) wouldn’t have been my first choice but they fit the swanky theme of the place. The lobster hollandiase had a sweetness and creaminess which nicely offset the salty and not over-cooked oyster, making it a decent bite.

Based on other reviews, the scallops with popcorn puree and sea asparagus ($22.50 as shown) could very well be their signature dish. It hit all the elements of such a dish; the scallops were cooked properly, the puree was divine and the sea asparagus added the colour, texture and taste needed to balance everything out.

2205 — Scallops with popcorn puree and sea asparagus ($4.50 each)

The trout was another tasty dish but at this point the menu was getting a bit monotonous as many of it’s elements were near identical to the previous two (oysters and scallops), adhereing to the theme of well cooked protein plus rich sauce plus green vegetable.

On paper, the mushroom risotto topped with shaved truffle may have been the pinnacle of Mr. Flamingo’s swanky small plate experience. Although I’m not generally a risotto fan, I appreciated the avoidance of truffle oil as an excuse for fancy flavoring. It was a nicely prepared dish but was still highlighted by rich flavours similar to many other items on the menu.

The duck and steak were both nicely prepared but not unlike anything you can get at any other restaurant in the area. It seems almost mandatory that these dishes appear on menus, prepared and seasoned the same way and served alongside the rather predictable sides.

Duck

Steak

After a meal in a place named after a suave and sexy bird serving oysters and truffles, I expected some kind of lavish desert. Instead, the sole offering was a donut with a sparkler in it. It was a rather carnival ending to an otherwise posh meal.

My Take

I may have missed my calling as an ornithologist so I’m never upset when I can eat at a place named after a feathered friend (yes I must admit I like eating some of them as much as I like watching them). After my dining experience, I can’t say I was as excited as the majestic flamingo during its mating ritual but it was still a decent meal.

Mr. Flamingo offers a mix of the standard sharing plates seen in a lot of the area’s eateries with the addition of a few unique ones, in particular the scallops with popcorn puree. In general, the majority of the menu is a bit monotonous in flavour though. Overall, it was a good experience, highlighted by above average service starting with the fact they will actually split a bill, a fact that may even convince Mr. Pink to throw a few bucks on the table after all is said and done.

Hanmoto: May possibly be the Crown Royal Northern Harvest of New Toronto Restaurants.

December 13, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

The faceless Chris Nuttall-Smith just published his top 10 new Toronto restaurants. Not surprising, Alo tops the list and other clear favorites including Buca Yorkville and Dandylion made the cut as well. Perhaps a little more surprising was the inclusion of Hanmoto, the little and unorthadox izakaya joint hidden just outside the intersection of Dundas and Ossington (it’s on Lakeview Avenue however which, like the Lakeview Diner a block away, doesn’t have a view of a lake).

As Mr. Nuttall-Smith writes (in words much more eloquent than mine), it has no sign and has the aura of a flea market where you are not sure if you will get a great deal, bamboozled or stabbed with a sushi knife. The menu is as primitive as the make shift signs you would see advertising dollar persimmons along Spadina avenue.

I went with a few friends a while back as stage one of an Ossington food crawl. Arriving at 530 or so ensured that there no wait for one of the few makeshift tables scattered among the curio-filled hollow . The waitress was a pleasantly non-nonsense woman who had a fantastic grasp of the small menu. It seemed fitting to start with the somewhat famous arisaka sour, a gin based cocktail flavoured with yuzu, green tea and cucumber and finished with soda and lime bitters. It was quite refreshing but a bit flimsy so it was evident I had to switch to beer to avoid downing 8-10 of them before the end of the meal.

The tiny menu meant little deliberation and the table agreed on the hamachi tartare, the moto bun, the enoki, the masu dengaku, okra and famed dyno wings .

The tartare was nicely balanced from both a texture and taste perspective and was served at the correct temperature. The moto bun was a fun and flavourful twist on a sloppy joe and was next to impossible to share with the table. That said, I’m always appreciative of a bun that can withstand the assault of a sloppy filling for the duration of consumption.

Hamachi Tartare $12

Moto Bun $7

The enoki with miso butter was a surprisingly simple take on those mushrooms you see at the Asian food marts and don’t know what to do with. Their texture with, when combined with the miso butter is somewhat reminiscent of a fat laden piece of steak.

The masu dengaku was an oddly attractive eggplant dish made pretty with fried beets and seasoned with a delicious miso hollandaise.

Enoki with Miso Butter $7

Masu Dengaku $8

Each of the previous dishes did not shy away on extreme flavours but the crispy okra blanketed with bonito flakes and asiago (a very saline and odd combination) was a miss. We casually passed the dish around the table like a hot potato and there were no takers.

Finally, it was time for the fame chicken dyno chicken wings served in the signature take out box. These wings, stuffed with a pork dumpling, have already attained mythical status in snack food folklore and the label is deserving. The dumpling offers both stark contrast to the crunchy mouth feel of the deep fried wings yet both flavours are married with the sweet and salty sauce.

My Take

I’m a sucker for a good gimmick and there are no shortage of them in the restaurant industry. I was all over the Yakatori bar on Baldwin (which now ceases to exist) and I’m the guy who rushes to Harvey’s after not going in years to get my hands on a somehwat revolting pop tart ice cream sandwich. From the seedy surroundings to the focus on nothing by snack food, Hanmoto itself is a gimmick but one that gone from the exception to the rule in the hipster driven expanse with an Ossington epicentre.

It seems Mr. Nutall-Smith is also enamored by a good gimmick. In his review of Hanmoto, he forgives any hiccups (ie. farmed vs wild salmon) by saying that it’s not that type of bar. It seems his opinions are driven by the fact that the booze drives the food and not vice versa which I disagree with given the rather sleepy cocktail list and predictable beer choices. Don’t get me wrong..he is brilliant writer and one of the first people I go to for an objective opinion on a new restaurant but I’m left wondering if including Hanmoto on the best new Toronto restaurant list is synonymous with Jim Murray’s choice of Crown Royal Northern Harvest Rye as the world’s best whisky. Maybe I can meet him halfway but saying the dyno wing is one of the top 10 must-try new dishes in Toronto in 2015 but even in my relatively limited exposure to novel eateries, I won’t go as far as generalizing the dish to the entire experience.

Han Ba Tang- Still Drawing the Short Straw Years after Toughskins and Crooked Haircuts

December 12, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I had a dismal month of blogging in November, primarily due to the fact that my real job gets in the way when it’s busy. I hope December is better. Speaking of busy, the every day trails and tribulations of life lead one to fall into rhythms of the present. Aided by facebook, which has seemingly rewound time and made friends of the past friends of the present, I made a commitment to myself to reconnect with some of these friends and personally I see no better way to do it than over a bowl or plate of something.

I was a small, quiet kid who had a crooked haircut and wore Toughskins, which were corduroy pants with reinforced knees meant to withstand the harsh treatment an 8 year old had to offer. I didn’t understand why people laughed at “Taxi” and why that old man Edward Woodward was scary as “The Equalizer”. I liked when my mom brought me to the hotel bar down the road from my grandmother’s house because I could eat all the maraschino cherries I wanted. I went to a tiny school in Sudbury so whether I liked it or not, I had to hang out with a small group of people…in Sudbury. I got the hell out as soon as I could and somewhat lost track of 90% of those in my past life until Facebook. Now, I have reconnected with historical figures in my life ranging from elementary school to university.

It seemed totally logical to meet a friend I haven’t seen in almost 30 years at Han Ba Tang, A Korean joint in North York (I keep thinking it’s called Hang Ten after the company with the big foot slogan that kids cooler than me wore although we lived no where near waves bigger than those made from a 20 HP motor on Lake Ramsey). What drew me to this place was not the easy to remember name ( I forget it every time) but the fact that it scores one of the highest ratings on Zomato. That and the fact that 2015 appears to be the year of Korean food in Toronto and I wanted to compare it to Korean Cowboy and other similar eateries scattered across the GTA. Plus, we both decided that we should have something that didn’t exist in our Sudbury days where Asian food was limited to sweet and sour chicken balls at the Pagoda.

I arrived, went to the bar and ordered the Caesar on fire. The twist was the addition of jalapeno soju. I was tempted to ask the bartender for ID since he acted like a teenager. This perception was aided by the fact that he opened up a recipe book and meticulously measured every ingredient into a Steamwhistle pint glass only to realize after the fact that he had no straws long enough for the glass. It was good but a full pint of caesar makes for a big drink so the flavours were somewhat diluted even with a short straw.

Dish one was the Kalbi salad ($10) which highlighted the short ribs in a forest of romaine, onions, bell peppers and an onion dressing. It was topped with some deep fried onion as well.

One cannot go to a Korean restaurant withour sampling the tacos so I ordered the spicy pork, kalbi and unagi trio. The shells were oddly shaped and the fillings was flimsy for $4-6 bucks each. Flavourwise, they were ok but overall the touted tacos were a bit of a let down.

The kimchi pancake was fantastic. Laced with bacon, mushroom and pepper it was browned perfectly which maximized both taste and appearance. It had great textural contrast as well.

I love rice cakes and Han Ba Tang’s were no exception. These were filthy good and reminded me of days of warming up a can of Campbell’s mushroom soup after school which was well in line with the evening’s theme of reminiscence.

Finally, we ordered the black calamari which was coloured with a roasted seaweed sauce,further seasoned with baby dried shrimp and garnished with cucumbers. The calamari was cooked well but it was little too much fish on fish flavour.

My Take

Before fall foraging became cool, Korean was all the rage which saw Han Ba Tang and other snack/bar food joints vault up the charts. Traditional soups, rice cakes, pancakes, tacos and wings are served with both a taste and an environmental twist. Instead of the flat surroundings of some the College street eateries, most of the new places offer fancy drinks, loud music and a very North American vibe. There’s a fun, thoughtless innocence to these places which is often exemplified by…let’s say naive bartenders who need a manual to make a drink. One can only imagine what would happen once the Karaoke machine goes full throttle and “Crystal Chandeliers” by Charlie Pride fills the air.

In the end, Han Ba Tang is a bit quirky, a bit trashy and a little fun. The tacos were a bit of a mess but otherwise the food was good and not too silly of a price. Although I don’t think it’s a 4.7 on zomato, it sure as hell beats heading to the Pagoda with a crooked haircut.

Canoe: Celebrating Canadian cuisine for 20 years and still (relatively) hipster free

November 17, 2015November 17, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Canoe, the flag ship of the Oliver and Bonacini empire, has spent the last 20 years highlighting the broad spectrum of fare this expansive country has to offer. So, not surprisingly, its 20th anniversary hoopla centred around a $100 tasting menu celebrating Canadian fare. There is a short video on their website highlighting some the principles which have driven their philosophy for the last two decades. Needless to say, I was excited to experience their take on coast to coast cuisine.

In addition to making Canadian food cool, I appreciate the fact that Canoe is relatively hipster free. Perhaps it’s the fact that it sits in the middle of the financial district or maybe it’s because it’s located 54 floors up with a swanky view as opposed to in a broom closet overlooking a spray painted alley. Majestic penthouse views, after all, suggest a certain societal hierarchy and we can’t have any of that. Sure, Canoe has its share of odd patrons, especially during summerlicious and winterlicious celebrations where every penny pinching socialite makes themselves king and queen for a day, usually at the expense of the staff but it does have a magically low hipster:non-hipster ratio.

The night started with bread served with a peanut (from Ontario) butter laced with local honey.

The mason jar paid homage to the art of pickling which was has evolved from a necessary form of food preservation (especially in countries with volatile climates) to a cool one. In this case, it was a simple array of carrots, beans and pickles atop a fois gras mousse. A little sweet and sour with a combination of crunch and velvet is always a good start to a meal.

Mason Jar (Pickled Veg with Fois Gras Mousse)

Next was the lobster carpaccio. Lobster is one of the crown jewels of Canadian protein and the chefs at Canoe detoured from standard preparation techniques to offer an east meets far east appetizer. The chef explained that pounding it thin along with a short sous vide cook was an ideal technique to remove the textural barriers that normally exist with raw shellfish while at the same time maintaining its fresh flavour. It was made to look pretty with an array of greens and bright screech sauce (a twist on traditional Marie Rose or seafood sauce) and to taste pretty with a subtle acidity and a sesame cracker.

From the east coast to the shores and plains surrounding Hudson Bay came the next dish; forest lasagna. Combining rabbit with a cornucopia of intense and native earthy flavours such as mushrooms, heartnuts and the very unique caribou moss was, as my dinner mate stated, “Canada on a plate”. It was finished with an evergreen mornay sauce which added a paradoxical richness to a dish reflecting one of the more barren parts of Canada. In my opinion it was the dish of the night mainly due to the unique use of unorthodox yet truly Canadian ingredients.

I have driven by my share of cranberry bogs on trips to Northern Ontario, so I was pleased to see that the mid-meal palate cleanser was a foamy Muskoka cranberry cream soda. I was at the chef’s rail, so it was interesting to watch the urgency in the pour and delivery to the table before the froth faded to nothing. It was more sweet than tart and somewhat reminiscent of the my childhood reward of drinking Pop Shoppe cream soda from a clear bottle.

For the main, I opted to travel back to the east coast and all the way to Fogo Island for some jigged cod (I avoided the venison due to an ongoing promise I’ve madae to lay of Bambi for a while…grrrrr). Perfectly seared, it was served with a tender crab boudin (white sausage) and seasoned with flavours of the sea including ocean salted potatoes and pickled seaweed. It’s probably in my head but I think there is something cool about eating ocean salted potatoes Whereas the lasagna was Canada on the plate, this dish was the Atlantic on a plate…and it was delicious.

Fighting the urge to go down the sickly sugary street of butter tarts or sugar pie, the 100 km squash dessert was the polar opposite. The moderately sweet squash tethered some of the more extreme flavours found in the savory seeds/grain and the house made ice cream. The cattail crepe was nestled among the other earthy offerings and was simply phenomenal.

My Take

Canoe’s ode to twenty years of Canadian food was spot on without the need to gravitate to more pedestrian and recognizable food choices like pea soup, poutine or tourtiere. Each dish had treasures hidden within the plate’s topography which made the experience an enjoyable exploration of our country’s blueprint.

Canoe could make the claim that it served Canadian food before Canadian food was cool. With the advent of Toronto restaurants such as Antler and Borealis, Canadian food is emerging as the newest trend. Hipsters are already dressed for it and the thought of foraging for nuts and seeds as a means of sustenance seems well in synch with their philosophies. In fact, it may actually provide more of a purpose to their normal process of walking around aimlessly looking for bright lights and bourbon. That said, if they want to portage up to the 54th floor of the TD building they will need to brush up with the suits on the way so I suspect this won’t happen anytime soon, even if Canadian food is deemed the new Korean. As for the Canoe 20 menu, based on the articulate presentation, taste and the respect given to traditional and non-traditional homegrown ingredients, I have to give it an eh.

A Tale of Two Steakhouses: La Castile vs Jacobs and Co…What the Dickens!

October 30, 2015November 8, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

It was the best of prime, it was the worst of prime…. it was aged and toothsome, it was aged and scrumptious….

Ok..that is an atrocious parody of one of the most recognizable paragraphs in the history of British literature but it may be the closest I will ever get to literary beauty of Charles Dickens. I read an interesting blog post from Tori Avey, who did a beautiful job summarizing the attention to detail that Dickens penned in many of his famous works, especially when it came to his description of scenes in which food and drink were the central theme.

http://toriavey.com/history-kitchen/2012/12/charles-dickens-food-and-drink/

The steakhouse has a long tradition in dining folklore. Although a steak is a ubiquitous item on restaurant menus, making it the focal point of an eatery has a history as old as Dickens himself. Traditionally, there are number of key and consistent characteristics which make a steakhouse what it is:

Mandatory dim lights and oversized tables, presumably to create a more relaxing environment and help with ugly dates. In all seriousness, an interesting study was done by Cornell university in 2012 that demonstrated that dim lighting, white table cloths and soft music resulted in patrons ordering just as much, rating the food higher, eating less and taking longer to finish which could mean more booze.. which can also help with the ugly date.
A staff trained to remind you everytime…like a stewardess showing you how to buckle a seatbelt, when you order a steak that medium rare is bright pink in middle…every time.
A menu which includes sleepy items for those who go to a steakhouse and don’t order steak. This usually means chicken, some kind of fish and a token meatless dish in event a hapless vegetarian is in the mix.
A steak menu which typically doesn’t include anything with the steak (except maybe one of those roasted tomatoes with the bread crumbs on top).
Sides which include asparagus, mushrooms, creamed spinach and if you’re lucky…brussel sprouts.
A place where shrimp cocktails and wedge salads never go out of style.

Despite this blueprint, there exists a huge spectrum ranging from old school to modern. In the last month I have gone to two steakhouses which represent both ends of the gamut. On one side is La Castile, the Mississauga landmark which describes itself as “the place to see..the place to be seen”. Toronto’s Jacobs on the other hand, is probably actually the place to see…the place to be seen. Let’s review:

The Website

When you go to the La Castile website, you will be serenaded by “In the Mood” by Glenn Miller while watching a slide show highlighting every nook and cranny of the large and twisted mansion. Jacobs on the other hand, offers a silent review of its modernized menu without the need for background music from 1940.

The Piano Bar

Both have a piano bar tab. La Castile offers plush red velvet, dimly lit chandeliers, private alcoves and stained glass windows. This creates a mystical ambiance offering live music from Wednesday to Saturday complemented by rumours of the odd Russian “escort”. Jacobs, on the other hand, simply lists the Tuesday to Saturday lineup on the website and adhere to a bring your own escort policy.

The Decor

La Castile is quite easy to find. Located along Dundas St East near the 427, the best instruction is to “follow the light” as it next to impossible to miss the flames shooting out of the brick structure surrounding the restaurant. Parking is abundant. Jacobs, on the other hand, is in downtown Toronto on Brant Street right off of King. It’s grey, boxy exterior is rather subtle which is a sharp contrast to the fireworks of its suburban counterpart. Parking is scarce although you could opt for $20 valet parking if you don’t want the hassle.

La Castile has the classic steakhouse setup. Walking in, you’re not sure whether or not you are at church, a funeral home or a museum. Dated carpets, stained glass and plush chairs let people experience what first class in the Titanic would feel like. A dress code is in effect of course which probably includes chain mail armour since I would not have been a bit surprised if I was seated at a table next to Peter Dinklage and served wine in a metal goblet. Jacobs is a lot sleeker, abandoning the white table clothes in lieu of bare modern wood tables and sleek chairs which omit the royal red plush. The concept is much more open and much less distracting. As the dress code, they don’t have to announce it…people just know.

The Service

La Castile opened in 1968 and I would be very surprised if the staff weren’t exactly the same as back then. Of course, they have aged since Woodstock but can now easily be referred to as grumpy old men in tuxedos instead of grumpy young ones. Jacobs, on the other hand, has a much younger staff who, instead of looking like they are in a wedding party. are dressed a bit more casually but still quite chic. They were far less grumpy as well.

The Food

Steakhouses are like brunch; there is a unwritten permission to elevate prices slightly to much higher than the norm. This is somewhat the case with La Castile but the ceiling is somewhat limited by its stingy suburban patrons and the fact that most of the regular clientele still think it’s the 1970s. Jacobs, on the other hand, takes advantage of its urban locale to price things in the stratosphere. Twenty dollar Caesar salads and fifteen dollar sides surround steaks that are often $100 and can hit $700 if you want the really good stuff.

La Castile welcomes you with a sectioned silver tray filled with feta, dills and olives (and lots of water poured by Mr. Chucklelopolous to wash down the accompanying sodium).

At La Castile, I had to go for the french onion soup ($9) which fittingly came in a fitting medieval metal goblet/urn atop the same doily I used to slap on side plates when I worked in the restaurant industry in the late 80’s and early 90s. There was no shortage of cheese and the broth was thick with onions. All in all, it wasn’t bad but after the pickles and the soup, I was desperately searching for a diuretic which I was confident one of the many waiters would have had in their pockets along with a nitro pill and maybe a Cialis.

For the main, I resisted the urge to insist to share the Chateaubriand with my table mates and instead opted for the peppercorn steak, which was “deliciously sharp and served with wine sauce”. Now, I’m unclear as to the sharpness but it was nicely seasoned and cooked a tad above a proper medium rare but as a bonus also served with a California mix of vegetables also reminiscent on my 1980’s doily days.

Jacobs, on the other hand, started with their famous complimentary popovers, which are a mild twist on the classic yorkshire pudding (and set the stage for the general theme of a steakhouse with a modern twist). They hardly needed the butter given the fact they had a really rich flavour.

Now, I missed the table side assembly of the $19 caesar salad (I was a bit late getting to dinner) but it was waiting when I got there. I’m missing the picture but I assure you it looked, smelled and tasted like a caesar salad. I will go as far as saying it was one of the best one I’ve had in a long while. The double smoked bacon was thick and delicious and the dressing was heavy with garlic.

The steaks are about quality, not quantity (not to mention the fact most are triple digits in price) so the table shared a local Ontario 12 oz Ribeye ($60) and an 18oz Nebraska bone-in striploin ($81) complemented with sides which included brussel sprouts and walnuts, duck fat fries, mushrooms and sauteed rapini (~$15 each). Upon request, they will slice the steak for you to avoid butchery or fights at the table. I failed to get a picture since there was a mad rush once the steak was placed on the table. I did, however, snap the cornucopia once it was on the plate. The steak was cooked perfectly and was exceptional in flavour. The sides were well prepared as well but I would hope so for the staggering price.

Two types of Jacobs steak and sides including mushrooms, rapini and duck fat fries

Even the offerings at the end of the meal are indicative of the differences between the two restaurants. While Jacobs brings a small plate of after dinner confections (cookies and chocolates) as well as a sinfully delicious packaged muffin for later to the table, La Castile sets a bowl of jelly beans (reminiscent of the ones I used to beg for out of the vending machine at a grocery store when I was 6 years old) by the door so one can grab a spoonful on the way out.

My Take

Although steakhouses across the board share numerous similarities, I think La Castile and Jacobs represent both ends of the spectrum. La Castile comes in with a “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it” mentality even though nothing has been fixed since 1968. Whereas some may call the decor nostalgic (of medieval times perhaps), I call it tired but I suppose it works well for suburban johns with a fetish for Eastern Europeans. Jacobs, on the other hand, focuses on aged steaks as opposed to aged decor, offering sleek surroundings in the heart of downtown Toronto and a variety of special occasions steaks that fall well outside a lot of standard dinner budgets.

In the end, any steak house across the board including the many chains including the Keg, Ruth’s Chris, Hy’s, Chop etc, will follow a similar blueprint and inevitably cost you a small fortune. That said, if you want to experience the extremes of this cuisine, I think La Castile and Jacobs represent opposite ends of the spectrum whether it be urban vs. suburban, modern vs. traditional or a desire to hobnob with the cool kids vs cosplaying as Robb Stark in the red wedding scene from Game of Thrones. Something tells me if Dickens wrote “A Storm of Swords” instead of George R.R. Martin, then the description of the butchery of the meal would have been much more detailed than that of King Robb Stark and his ill-fated army.

Lunch at the Trump: Not Even Neil Diamond Would Come to This America

October 3, 2015October 4, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I have fond memories of my grandparents and blame them for some of my suspicious musical preferences. Beside the rusty orange la-z-boy was an eight track player which sat atop a faux leather stand which housed a mix of country and adult contemporary music. I particular, I remember Neil Diamond. Even today, at the age of 74, Neil remains a stud in the music world. As a high school student, he would write poems for his male classmates so they could pass along to the ladies in an effort to seal the deal. He was a pre-med student at New York University and excelled at fencing. He has be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and some of his music remains among the most recognizable over the past 3 generations. I challenge you to go to any bar, wedding, Red Sox game etc. and not see a drunk crowd of anybody over the age of 25 not belt out the belt out the chorus of “Sweet Caroline” when cued. He also wrote “I’m a Believer” which any Shrek or Monkees fan would recognize instantly. In this context, I was reminded of Neil as a result of his epic song America in which he sings of an immigrant’s triumphant arrival to the U.S. with such lyrics as “Everywhere around the world, they’re coming to America,ev’ry time that flag’s unfurled, they’re coming to America”.

America recently replaced Stock at the Trump hotel and is a surprising partnership between two of Toronto’s biggest hospitality groups: Charles Khabouth’s Ink entertainment and restaurant juggernauts Oliver and Bonacini. As a result, one would expect lavish surroundings and trendy menu choices. I went for lunch as part of a meeting recently and ordered off the menu. There is a mix of items including soups, salads and pastas as well as daily specials ranging from lobster rolls to seared tuna. I fought the temptation to grab a mid meeting nap on the velvet banquette complete with comfy decorative pillows and ordered the wild and tame mushroom soup ($14) and america’s caesar salad ($16). I was appalled. The soup, described on the menu as “enough said” should have said “four mushroom pieces floating in a flimsy broth with no substance” or “mild and lame”. At least the Caesar salad had a more accurate description which simply stated “creamy roasted garlic dressing”. There was A LOT of dressing and the only other component other than the red romaine was a few “croutons” which were nothing more than a dried version of the same jalapeno corn bread that was in the basket on the table. In addition, I spoke to a few colleagues after and they were equally unimpressed. The tuna special was sleepy and the shrimp and squid tagliolini had the too long under the heat lamp look to it. One of my table mates asked for some Parmesan (I didn’t blame him) which seemed a bit insulting to the waitstaff. Other than that, although the service was pretty good, it was rather slow and inconsistent which was a far cry from the service I received in other areas of the Trump throughout the week.

My Take

Although it was in a different context, I enjoyed Stock when it was open. I was expecting that if anything, America would elevate at 31st floor of the Trump hotel to a new level. Instead, it seems to quality of the food has been comprised. Perhaps the dinner experience is better but I would have expected more from a $30 lunch. It was surprisingly more stagnant than it was stuffy and I left with a bad taste in my mouth…literally. In the end, Neil Diamond’s America is much better than Trump’s…and I like his hair better too.

Sweet Jesus: Stupid Conservatives and Singing Brewer and Shipley to Deal with Food Paparazzi and Grade School Art Projects

October 3, 2015October 3, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

When it comes to the latest trends in the food world, dessert is never left out. In fact, it seems to turn over more quickly than vegetables like kale and cauliflower. In the past few years alone, for example, we have seen the peak and trough of cupcakes and donuts. With the emergence of any of these trends, you can count on three things; a flurry of such shop openings on every street corner, a simultaneous spike in prices and people lining up to hop on the bandwagon.

The newest dessert trend is ice cream. Despite the fact it doesn’t travel really well, people are flocking to dairy bars across the city looking for the latest spin on the simple treat. The latest to throw their cone in the vat is Sweet Jesus. Located at King and John, this small space offers coffee and churros all day (I tried these as well and must say both the coffee and churros with cajeta was more than acceptable) and at noon the ice cream insanity begins. The crowd arrives and cramps into the small space while snapping pictures like they are stalking celebrities on the red carpet at the Bell Lightbox around the corner. I guess one cannot have too many photos of coffee bags and neon signs.

In order to calm my nerves in the midst of selfie sticks and indecisive foodies, I started humming Brewer and Shipley’s “One Toke Over the Line” in my head. This 1971 song cracked the top 10 in the US and Canada and was deemed a gospel song by Lawrence Welk despite the fact vice-president at the time Spiro Agnew called the duo subversive to the youth of America in another example of classic conservative naivety, stupidity and confusion. Regardless…it has a nice melody so I went to my happy place signing “It’s a joke that I am in line at Sweet Jesus” over and over again in my head amidst the chaos.

The menu is pretty simple. There are 4 kinds of soft serve available (marshmallow, vanilla, chocolate and raspberry lemonade) available for $3.75 in which you can have dipped for a dollar. There are also a dozen or so jacked-up, fancy cones for $6. You can also get a $4 Mexican popsicle if so inclined. I went with the lemon coconut cream pie which is exactly like it sounds. You order, give your name, pay (cash, debit or credit) and wait in the mob until your name is called. Each cone (the base being the old school cones you would get at any parlour) is carefully constructed like a school art project using squirt bottles (eg. for the lemon curd) and plastic containers (eg. for the coconut). In other cases, marshmallows are hand placed on the ice cream tower like Christmas decorations on a tree. It’s horribly inefficient and time consuming but I suppose it rumbles up the same internal thrill as watching Giuseppe make you a table side Caesar salad at a outdated Italian joint. The product itself was acceptable but far from mind-blowing and six bucks is way too much despite the American-like portion size. The soft serve itself was more icy than creamy and the toppings became monotonous quickly.

My Take

I don’t know why I partake in standing in line for food. I think it’s an attempt to try and understand the psyche of a foodie. I would love to do a brain scan to assess the part of the brain that glows red while one is standing in line waiting for the latest trend. I have never been a lover of crowds. Sweaty bars and mosh pits make me cringe as much as selfie sticks. I suppose if there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as a result it would be worth it but I couldn’t say that somebody’s B minus art project fits into that category. In the end, Sweet Jesus was not worth the hassle. The line was long, the setup was inefficient and the product wasn’t mind-blowing. The staff were nice though and I commend them for continuing to smile while the food paparazzi made ordering ice cream seem like a Drake sighting. For now, I’ll leave the soft serve to Costco and the art to my grade school son.

La Carnita: Hanging with Abercrombie Smurfs While Seeking Solice From Seniors and Evil Wizards

September 28, 2015September 28, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I’ve had La Carnita on my list for a while but the dinner only hours and location has made it a bit difficult so I was happy to hear that a location opened at the more convenient intersection of King and John and that it was actually open for lunch. I made my way over shortly after not realizing it had just opened the Saturday before.

The layout is quite impressive. The two-floor trendy and nicely decorated interior offers a bar area on both levels and abundant seating. Unlike other snack bars, there is a good amount of breathing room so those with varied degrees of claustrophobia or agoraphobia can rest a little easier. I was quickly seated at the bar and handed a menu. Normally there is a good draft selection but since the place had just opened the taps were not working properly so I ordered the “Who shot ya?” cocktail instead. At this point I had no idea that this was the La Carnita signature cocktail which was developed by a bartender at the original location and has survived the test of time. A twist on a bourbon sour, it was a simple offering with great contrasting flavours including a stinging ginger and a sweet/sour pomegranate syrup.

I should back up a little and let you know that this story was told to me by what I assumed was either the manager or owner of La Carnita. What I found fascinating was the fact he had a hipster look despite the fact he had to be older than 30 and lacked complete self-absorption. Although I have equated hipsters to zombies in the past, this got me thinking that maybe they are more like smurfs, especially if we consider the fact that the majority would be either Vanity, Greedy or the tattooed Hefty. If so, I had just found Papa. He directed the staff (many of which I swear I’ve seen on the side of an Abercrombie bag) with kind authority much the same way Papa Smurf would with his clueless blue minions whenever their rather sterile environment was threatened with things like cats, birds or other natural predators.

The menu is taqueria style with a few apps thrown in. The also feature a special of the day which was a chorizo/kale empanada. I was all over it and I added a carnita and crispy cotija taco to the mix as well. From a visual, taste and texture perspective they were all brilliant. Punches of heat, sweet, crunchy and chewy were present in every bite and I was tempted to scoop up every morsel that fell into the tin tray. For example, the crispy cheese with the cauliflower and pinto beans garnished with a bit of pickled carrot was tastebud blowing and the pork confit in the carnita was melt in your mouth. Not quite satisfied, I had to try the special taco of the day;chicken fried steak. The thought of stuffing this ridiculous southern delicacy into a taco shell was very appealing to me and it paid off. The outside was crispy, and the inside was tender and still a bit pink. Once again, the accompaniments were a perfect balance of all things good…kind of like a good shot of Smurfberry juice while building a catapault. Other than forgetting the empananda the first time around, the rest of the food was served within what seemed seconds after I ordered.

Crispy Cojita $4.95 and Carnita Taco $4.95

My Take

Despite the one service hiccup and the volatile beer taps, La Carnita was a slam dunk. The days of the stagnancy of King street eateries may be coming to an end. No longer are the only choices those which require an invitation from a disgruntled maitre d’ standing on the sidewalk waving a 15 year old pre-theatre menu in your face. Instead, La Carnita offers a welcoming environment with great booze, a cool modern vibe and terrific food served fast and fresh. Plus, you’ll never have to worry about hanging with seniors ordering off the modified menu before “Kinky Boots” and you’ll be good as gold if Gargamel ever shows up.

Bang Bang Ice Cream: The New Hipster Apocolypse Serving Up Soft Porn Instead of Soft Serve

September 12, 2015September 13, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

As I’ve stated before, the hipster movement is a bit like the Walking Dead. At first you’d see the odd zombie roaming around and next you know you have an apocalypse on your hands. Part of this mass transformation has meant the expansion of foodstuffs which have undergone hipster domination. It started with coffee shops and quickly progressed to tacos and burgers. They have laid claim to kale and cauiflower. I think what I find most disturbing, however, is their latest attempt at beatnik tyranny; ice cream. No, the centrefold of the Toronto Life a few months did not show Norm Kelly and Drake in a Yonge 6 Gods gangster embrace but instead summarized a number of ice cream cones available across the city. It was at this point I knew that the hipster infection had spread into the medium of one of any person’s fondest childhood memories. The ritual of popping down to a parlour with the fam and watching a disgruntled 16 year old serve my mom tiger tail for the 15th time (I swear she was only person in Sudbury who ate it) while I stood indecisive until a got a good kick in the arse was in jeopardy. I should have seen it coming. It does, after all, involve long lines and serving food out a crawl space which are both predictors of a hipster breeding ground. It also allows for a more justified use of the cash only policy and certainly would never require a reservation. Plus, you also don’t have open in the mornings.

I was in the Ossington area and decided to pop in to Bang Bang. It was a Wednesday night around 7:30 pm so the line wasn’t too bad. Predictably, it looked like a garage. The line swung around to a counter housing 4 or 5 types of cookies which seemed to be the most popular vessel for the twenty or so flavours of ice cream which were displayed on shelves in a David’s tea store. Against the far wall is a iron which feverishly works to pump out thin Hong Kong waffles which are subsequently folded into cones and stuffed with ice cream.

I wasn’t surprised to see an array of clientele waiting. In particular, a hipster dad had his hipster kids with him. Since the line moves at a snail’s pace despite their “one sample only” policy, they have a screen on the wall projecting some sort of video. In this case, it was some cartoon I didn’t recognize but I thought it would keep the kids occupied for the long haul through the ice cream line. It looked pretty benign until things got heated. For whatever reason a woman was suddenly naked in the middle of a forest and was greeted by a near naked and very built man. Soon, enough, he had his large hands nicely positioned on her rather voluptuous ass and soft core animated sex followed. Daddy hipster was shocked and quickly put his hands over the eyes of his baby hipsters and looked around feverishly hoping that he didn’t have friends or families in the vicinity to witness such an atrocity. I was going to joke with him and tell him that it was part of the Ontario government’s new sex ed curriculum but I figure that might resulted in a good shin kick or having my hair pulled really hard.

There are many choices including scoops (even an adult snack size for those who normally go for the kiddy cone), the aforementioned cookie sandwiches and Hong Kong waffles as well as macaron sandwiches and ice cream puffs. When I finally got to the front of the line, I decided on banana ice cream in the waffle cone for $8. I was told that because of the Hong Kong I could have 2 flavours instead of one so I also ordered Froot Loop as well. Since they are “made to order” there was some wait time involved. It reminded me of the countless number of Hampton Inn buffets I’ve been to in which the wait for the waffle iron could go into the early afternoon. It didn’t help when the guy behind the counter looked like he was having more trouble with the waffle iron than I would trying to assemble an IKEA desk. I finally got the cone and the waffle was still warm which was a nice contrast to the ice cream. I’ve made banana ice cream at home and Bang Bang’s was almost the same. It had a rich custard base and the bananas were quite ripe tasting. There’s that magic moment when you first combine froot loops and milk. Not only is the milk still super cold but the flavours of the cereal haven’t yet combined meaning you get two distinct tastes before they become uniform. The ice cream recreated that magic moment. Despite the warm waffle, the ice cream did not melt at too rapid rate and it wasn’t overly messy but there was no way I could finish it all.

Hong Kong Waffle with Banana and Froot Loop Ice Cream

My Take

Bang Bang Ice cream adds hipster to the old ice cream parlor. Instead of a “Hi!” from Bill behind the counter at the family owned ice cream joint, you get to stand in line in a garage for a long time, watch porn and surround yourself with hipster angst not often associated with this classic summer dessert. At least they take credit cards. In the end, if you can get over the slow service and prefer soft porn over soft serve (I was wondering why they called it Bang Bang) then drop on by. Good thing they have takeout pints because you might wanna leave the kids at home.

The Good Son: Macaulay Culkin Nightmares and Memories of Norman Rockwell

September 7, 2015September 14, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I have keen to go to the Good Son since it opened. It’s on the fringes of the Ossington strip which means by geographical location they are mandated to incorporate some of the hipster doctrine into their existence ( in other words “embracing the local Queen street culture” as stated on their website). Good Son is a project of Vittorio Colacitti who gained national attention for his appearance on Top Chef Canada 4. His also has a biography page which, designed a bit like a dating site, outlines his many culinary achievements as well as telling us he is a rooster according to the Chinese Zodiac.

The restaurant’s website presents Good Son as a surrogate for an old time family experience. The landing page depicts three generations of a family sitting around the table for dinner which brings back my own family members for very different reasons. Since my family resembles the Lamberts from Jonathan Franzen’s “The Corrections” more than the Cleavers, I think my mom disguised this dysfunction by hanging Norman Rockwell pictures all over the wall to create the illusion that we all sat down and ate mashed potatoes together. Mr. Rockwell was a 20th century American painter who best described his own art by saying “without thinking too much about it in specific terms, I was showing the America I knew and observed to others who might not have noticed”. Quite often this involved very normal families in very normal situations which was a far cry from my life. The closest I got to a Rockwell painting were the shards of glass in the back of my neck after a sibling spat. My sister narrowly missed hitting me in the head with a stuffed animal and smashing the glass in the frame of “The Doctor and the Doll” painting instead. I don’t think he ever painted that.

Norman Rockwell's Doctor and the Doll — Norman Rockwell’s Doctor and the Doll

The name of the restaurant itself also stirs up a few memories. Macaulay Culkin took the world by storm as the cute kid in “Home Alone”. He further stole the hearts of America by starring in the tearjerker “My Girl” followed by a Home Alone sequel. Things went downhill from there. Perhaps in a effort to expand his acting range, he teamed up with Elijah Wood (who at the age of 12 had the same impish look as he does now) in “The Good Son”, a so called psychological thriller which currently sits at 24% on rotten tomatoes. Culkin plays a disturbed child who some would argue was a foreshadowing of some of his woes to come. Wood, on the other hand, went on to fight spiders, orcs and other middle earth creatures to great fanfare in Lord of the Rings. In the end, I couldn’t help thinking that the creepy looking kid at the table on the Good Son’s homepage would eventually take the Macaulay versus Wood path and would likely ponder a “skating accident” as a fate for some loved ones a couple of years down the road.

good son — Life Before Hobbits and Michael Jackson

Despite this irrational fear of the website, I was keen to go because of the fanfare over the food and drink menu. I got to experience the latter at a Lucky Rice event I attended a few weeks before. I remember the well dressed bartenders slinging gin filled concoctions garnished with things like pickled dragon fruit and other foodie furbelows. I took a seat at the bar and scanned the cocktail menu. I have no idea who Tony is but I went with “That Thing for Tony” which featured gin, citrus fruit, Campari and some fresh basil. My issue is always the fact that a gin and fruit drink shows up looking like something Mary Poppins would make. This drink didn’t have the umbrella but did rock the orange slice which served as a vessel to hold up the straw and combined with the pink was a bit of a kick in the nuts. Nonetheless, gin and campari is always a great combination and a whole lot of fresh basil added a garden vibrancy.

Have you met Tony? — That Thing for Tony $13

I started with the sweet pea tortellini ($18) and it didn’t disappoint. The pasta was as tender as the peas themselves and stuffed with a tasty filling which paid homage to this great summer legume. The tortellini sat atop a sauce laced with citrus and butter flavours and was finished with some grated cheese. At first the portion size looked a little dainty but it was deceptively filling. Overall, it was a smart and suave dish which honoured fresh and available ingredients.

Pea Tortilllini $18 — Pea Tortellini $18

At this point I needed another drink and since they take as much pride in their bar program as they do their food, I challenged the barkeep to do some alcoholic improv. He gladly accepted the challenge and began the alchemy. After a pinch of this and a dash of that he tasted, adjusted and presented his take on a basil smash while profusely apologizing for the brownish appearance but he promised it would taste good. I wasn’t at all offended and in my head quickly named the drink “Look at my Divot” to reflect the fact it looked like busted up sod after a pathetic attempt with my five iron. That said, it was a little more manly than drinking through a straw wedged in an orange slice.

“Basil Smash” or “Look at that Divot” $14

For the main, the barkeep suggested the bulgogi short ribs served with kim chee fried rice and a quail egg ($18). Unlike the smallish pasta portion, this dish was huge. Although the ribs were a little tough, they were flavourful. The rice was equally tasty but a little greasy. I loved the chucks of kimchi (or kim chee). The quail egg was cooked perfectly..I just wish there was more of it. Both the hot and the garlic sauce smeared on the plate were fantastic and removed any monotony of repeated bites of meat and rice. I also liked the abundance of the scallions on the dish from both a taste and appearance perspective. All in all, a very satisfying (and large) dish in which I could only finish about a third.

My Take

The Good Son succeeds in offering high quality food and drink in a fashionable environment. Given the creepy family on landing page, horror movie buffs may fear that many of the plates hanging on the wall may become projectiles in a poltergeist rage. In fact, I credit the web designers whose family dinner masterly predicted the movie “The Visit” in which old people finally become the homicidal leads as opposed to the first victims in most other horror movies (just ask Mrs. Deagle in the Gremlins). It is welcoming with a partially open kitchen and a very visible prep area. As described on the site, the Good Son’s menu is “a reflection of the melting pot of cultures that has gentrified the Queen West neighbourhood in Toronto”. I agree….I had a little Korean, a little Italian and a little hipster. One of the questions I always ask myself after a dining experience is “Would I come back?”. I think this place has one of the most intriguing menus in the city and I felt I only scratched the surface meaning I’d definitely come back in a second to try something like the steak tartare (which I have heard is incredible), jerk shrimp or the burger. In the end, it’s much better than a Macaulay Culkin movie and as inviting as a Norman Rockwell painting not to mention it’s oddly dreamy that Vittorio’s Chinese astrological sign is compatible with an ox.