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Why Making a Reservation in Toronto Reminds me of an Anchorman Melee

March 30, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

There has been a definite evolution in the process behind making a restaurant reservation over the past decade. Years ago, you either showed up live or called ahead and a friendly person on the other end would scratch your name into a book. Now, the lucrative online reservation systems has blossomed and many restaurants are left to choose which system fits their business needs the best. In the end, the choice appears relatively seamless to the patron, but there are some interesting observations to make about this cutthroat business.

Some restaurants have gotten rather creative with the reservation process. State Bird Provisions in San Francisco, for example, offers reservations for dates two months later. The reservation process starts at midnight and I will admit I woke up at 3 am to try and secure a spot but was left unsuccessful and had to stand in line with the rest of the peasants. Others restaurants are asking for credit cards in advance and threaten charges if there is a cancellation too close to the reservation time.

No Reservations

Congratulations, you are a successful restaurant who is either relishing in the fact that people line up to get in or your establishment is so tiny that you have no problem hitting your capacity on a nightly basis and don’t need a system. You’re a pain in the ass because if you are looking to entertain clients, have a birthday or plan to propose to your girlfriend, you have to hope to hell that the stars align and you can get a seat without having to wait two hours. You probably will only seat people once the whole party arrives and you likely take cash only as well.

Reservation by Phone

Yes, there are restaurants which still see a phone as something you talk on as opposed to checking in, tagging friends and taking pictures. This system is not conducive to those who have a whimsical desire to make a reservation at 3 am. In all likelihood, restaurants who subscribe to phone only reservations are:

long-standing eateries that have been using a reservation book since 1960 and damn well won’t change now.
owned by control freaks who don’t think a computer could never do what a human can.
likely to still hand-write bills and frown when you insist that the stub on the bottom is not a sufficient receipt for business purposes and begrudgingly copy one by hand upon request.

OpenTable

OpenTable is the patriarch (or matriarch) of online reservations systems. Once a monopoly, they were known for offering bonus points and a lack of a 7 pm slot on almost any night of the week at some restaurants. Although they still own the lion share of the business (but still only have 322 accounts in Toronto proper), they have responded to recent competition by undergoing a major rebrand focused on pillars which include warm and welcoming, inspired and reliable and fresh and current although it would be naive to think that all restaurants they work with have the same philosophy.You still get the opportunity to review the restaurant after and get the subtly threatening email if you don’t show up threatening that you might get banned if such indiscretions continue (even if the restaurant fails to record your attendance). Open table restaurants tend to include:

those who fare better on tripadvisor than yelp. Tripadvisor uses open table as their reservations system.
conglomerates such as O and B and The Khabouth empire since you can refer to affiliated restaurants in the event your first choice isn’t available.
those whose names start with numbers or the letter a since they are listed in alphabetical order when searched by region.
pricey restaurants in expensive hotels and those who wish they were pricey restaurants in expensive hotels.

Seatme

Now owned and operated by yelp, this reservation system is less centralized. Seatme does not have a master website like OpenTable but is meant to attract small business owners who either find open table too difficult, expensive or cumbersome. Unlike urbanspoon and tripadvisor, the yelp site itself does not pimp their online reservation system by embedding it in the reviews. Instead of going to a central site, one gets prompted to reserve via seatme when they go to the restaurant’s site looking for a table. On the consumer side, it is hardly distinguishable from other reservation systems but on the vendor’s side it promises a better and cheaper experience than Open Table.

Bookenda

At the end of 2014, yellow media (the yellow pages people) announced the acquisition of both bookenda and dine.TO. Bookenda is a online reservation that is gaining steam in pockets across Canada including the GTA. It’s membership is impressive; Pai, Thoroughbred, Rasa, People’s eatery, Ruby Watchco and Edulis are among the hot destinations under the bookenda umbrella. Like OpenTable, there is a reward program. Instead of saving points in the hope of someday attaining an elusive dining certificate, bookenda offers a variety of reward opportunities for as little as 400 points. Points are not only awarded for booking online but also if you post your reservation on facebook or make a comment about your experience on their site afterwards.

My Take

Long gone are the days of picking up the phone and dialing a rotary phone during business hours in the hope of securing a 7 pm reservation at your favourite eatery. Now, you can simply go on a smart phone, tablet or computer at anytime of day and secure anything but a 7pm reservation at any number of establishments. In some cases, you can be recognized for your loyalty with points which may lead to a glass of wine, a free appetizer or the ultimate prize of an OpenTable dining certificate.

I picture that scene from Anchorman when the rival broadcasters including the likes of Vince Vaughan and Tim Robbins assemble in the parking lot for a good old-fashioned brouhaha. In the restaurant world, the clans would be divided based on their reservation system. In one corner would be the no reservation group who ironically would need to wait outside the lot until space in the lot became available and the whole group was there. Their main artillery would be dirty looks and ignorance. The reservation by phone group may sport tin foil hats to prevent satellite interference and carry archaic weaponry reminiscent of Game of Thrones. The OpenTable entourage (although they would not likely show around peak dining hours) would be the largest, led by Michael Bonacini and includes fans of tripadvisor and urbanspoon wearing “Keep Calm and Use Opentable” T-shirts. Seatme peeps would be scattered throughout the parking lot like lone vigilantes. The bookenda bevy would likely be led by Lynn Crawford with patrons wearing red t-shirts symbolizing Canada which spell out “Bookenda is the New OpenTable” scrawled across the front in large white writing as they sipped free wine they got for 400 points.

"I said I wanted a 7pm Reservation!" — “I said I wanted a 7pm Reservation!”

In the end, the competitive world of online reservations has made it easier than ever for patrons to plan in advance when eating out. Of course, there are still a number of restaurants who feel that it is an honour and privilege to dine there and don’t mind making people wait for the experience. Otherwise, with some flexibility, one can plan a dinner without too much of a headache regardless of the system. A quick call to the restaurant might be necessary to secure the elusive 6-8 pm time slot but otherwise it is a pretty easy to book, show up and reap the rewards of a completed meal. You even have the opportunity, good or bad, to enlighten fellow diners about what you ate and how the experience was….without the need for pitchforks.

Korean Cowboy: Fried Spaghetti Westerns and a Mad Hatter Menu

March 21, 2015March 21, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Cowboys have always been a focal point in pop culture. Bon Jovi is a cowboy…on a steel horse he rides. Paula Cole asked us where have all the cowboys gone? after she does all the laundry. Jon Favreau reminded us why Olivia Wilde should stick to television and Daniel Craig to James Bond when he directed Cowboys and Aliens (which only received 44% on rotten tomatoes). Whether you watch American Idol or read Louis L’Amour, the cowboy is one of the quintessential symbols of Americana.

Korea on the other hand, elicits another series of thoughts and feelings. Political pundits will cite the lovable Ban Ki-Moon of South Korea or the infamous Kim Jong-un of the North. Youtube junkies have hummed and danced to Psy’s Gangnam Style behind closed doors since 2012. Foodies hear Korean and think about bibimbap, bulgogi and hot pots.

So, when thinking of a Korean Cowboy, any number of images come to mind. One may think of Glenn Rhee swapping out his ball cap for a Stetson in the Walking Dead or the purposely annoying Ken Jeong following the gang to the Alamo in the Hangover 15. Regardless, I suspect the vision of such a cowboy would be more in line with wackiness and fun as opposed to a cameo in a somber scene from the Unforgiven. When looking at the rather insane offerings at Korean Cowboy in advance, I was reminded of the phrase mad hatter which originated from the overt symptoms hatters use to exhibit due to mercury poisoning from the felt used inside of hats and wondered if this menu was a side effect. However, when the website explained that Koreans are fun people who enjoy lots of booze, fun food and general goofiness, I figured the menu was a reflection of the fact that this establishment promised a forum for all three.

Located on Yonge just north of Eglinton, Korean Cowboy had an exciting buzz from the minute I entered. I was greeted by a bubbly waitress and seated at a table with a good view of televisions and saloon-like surroundings. The bar was reminiscent of a scene from an old spaghetti western and offered craft beer, soju and a decent rail of spirits. The name of the restaurant is painted across mirrors situated behind the shelved booze. Speaking of spaghetti, I was intrigued by the first of many anju dishes available on the menu; fried spaghetti. Anju, as I learned from the website, is a generic term given to snacks which are usually served and enjoyed in the presence of alcohol. This fried spaghetti was not the traditional throw leftovers it in a pan and heat up type. It was fried in its dry state, creating an odd but intriguing nibble. For a buck, you can’t go wrong.

It was a Wednesday which happened to be oyster night, meaning you could get a dozen for $12. Instead of the traditional hot sauce and horseradish, they were served with a carousel of unique toppings which included among others Korean tabasco, chili vinegar, sesame, coffee and soju. Each put a fun and unique spin on eating a plate full of the molluscs. The coffee was probably the most unique and the chili vinegar was one of the best.

There are no apologies on the menu for the lack of fine food. Instead, the menu items looked like the product of an episode of Chopped held in a dorm room. Take the hot dog stir fry ($3.99)for example. The simple combination of chopped wieners, vegetables and a ketchup sauce result in a dish you want to hate but can’t. It’s tangy and sweet and something you would crave on a street corner after a few pints and allow you to go to bed confident that you’d wake up fine the next morning.

The cheesy spicy rice cakes were a cross between laffy taffy and ball game nachos with that repulsive yet delicious spicy cheese sauce. The chewy rice cakes may not appeal to everybody, but as a guy who loves tapioca and any kind of pudding I found the texture oddly appealing especially when hidden among the nostalgic stadium flavours. This dish was a home run.

The steamed bun burger ($3.99) was a decent attempt at this classic Asian snack. The Korean spiced beef sat nicely in the white folded bun riddled with black sesame seeds. Green onions and cucumbers finished it off. It was messy, wonder bread fun.

BBQ Beef Buns $3.99 — BBQ Beef Bun $3.99

Strategies to get kids to eat vegetables usually involves dousing them in cheese, sauce and/or butter. This is usually the case with brussel sprouts and broccoli but Korean Cowboy does it with corn. It tasted like one of Gramma’s casseroles before anybody gave a shit about butter or fat. It was ridiculously but regretfully good, much like a vat of movie popcorn or a slice of greasy, deep dish pizza.

I’m always interested in a good taco so I ordered one of each of the korean beef, spicy pork and chicken. Each was filled with a cabbage salad and the aforementioned meats in a rather large flour tortilla. They were decent but in a city in which tacos have become a foodie staple, they fell a little short. The shell was too much and swallowed instead of housing the taste of the proteins. Retrospectively, I should have ordered ssam (lettuce wraps) instead to allow the filling to shine a little more.

The wings were also a bit disappointing. They were “cooked the Korean way” and bathed in your choice of a number of sauces. After the anju, I expected a wing with a compilation of crunch, succulent sweet and sinister spice. They weren’t as crunchy nor sweet or spicy enough. They had the texture of a M and M breaded wing that had been baked in the oven for 20 minutes. The fries were fresh cut and tasted especially good when dipped in the hot dog or rice cake sauce.

My Take

Korean cowboy is a playful addition to mid-town Toronto dining. Whether it is the decent choice of craft beer, a glass of soju or a variety of anju, malarkey ensues the minute you sit down. The food is a mix of dorm room creations and campfire provisions developed through the delirium of a culinary mad hatter who wants to fuse Korean fare with edible Americana. The tacos and wings were average. Despite the fact I tore through a good part of the menu, there are still things like sawdust chicken,G-PO (file fish), kimchi fries and squid and pear salad not to mention a number of pork dishes including mocha pork belly and the King Koink platter. Maybe next time I visit I’ll throw on a mercury-free fedora and hum Kid Rock’s “I’m a cowboy baby….I can smell a pig from a mile away” as I strut up Yonge street and sniff the air.

Windsor Coffee: Let’s get Brewin’ Bros. and Salute as we drop an Anchor on a Lobster-Clawed Mermaid

March 8, 2015March 9, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Windsor was once a Tim Horton’s town. Years ago, I spent countless hours in Timmie’s plugging away at a computer in between appointments when I used to travel there twice a week. At the time, public wifi was as non-existent as choices outside of lame coffee and cookie cutter, par-baked apple fritters.

In the years since Windsor has evolved into more of a cosmopolitan burghal. Although the downtown is still a work in progress, glimmers of light have emerged through the cracks of closed eateries and boarded up retail stores. Neighbourhoods like Walkerville have developed their own identities, offering foodies everything from microbrews to quinoa burgers.

In conjunction with this expansion, there has been a explosion of coffee shops which have percolated up in all corners of Windsor. It goes without saying that Starbucks has jumped on the opportunity to sway local and loyal Tim drinkers and recruit teenage caffeine junkies to a life of lattes, frappuccinos and cake pops.

I was recently down in Windsor for a couple of days of business and embarked on a mission to hit as many coffee shops as I could. Not only did I want to sample the wares but I wanted to test the waters regarding the ability for everybody to play nice in the sandbox. I was intrigued with a comment a good friend of mine and Windsorite made about her hometown. She said that she doesn’t understand why the art community in Windsor can’t get along. In particular, she was referring to belly dancing, yoga studios and coffee shops and since I would be an absolute embarrassment at the first two, I figure I would test the theory while drinking java while strumming away on my computer.

Salute Espresso Bar

Pronounced salute-a, this coffee house is located in the aforementioned Walkerville area. It has an underground feel, partly due to the fact you have to walk down the stairs to get inside. This industrial theme is furthered by the painted concrete floors and unfinished ceilings. It’s quite spacious and offers a number of tables and stools to sit and sip. Instead of coffee brewed by the pot and housed in a thermos, Salute chooses to brew cup by cup using a chemex. I usually order decaf and their product is amazing, As it cools, the flavour profile evolves, reflecting the complexity of a high quality coffee bean. For latte lovers, if you’re against lactose in dairy and phytoestrogens in soy you can substitute in their housemade almond milk (which I sure as hell hope is carrageenan free). The pecan tarts are sinful. They also offer a small menu which offers a decent breakfast sandwich. During my visits, many people walk through the doors to buy coffee and accessories. They also sell high quality chocolate and…uuummmmm….toothpaste.

Salute Breakfast Sandwich and a Decaf Coffee

Those who would enjoy Salute include the following:

Local residents who choose not to deepen the carbon footprint by refusing to drive outside their Walkerville microcosm.
Members of the non-GMO, gluten free, vegan, raw and alkaline clan who can take advantage of the secret passage to Carrots N Dates next door so one can indulge on cold pressed juices, kombucha or longevity salads while sipping a brew.
People who enjoy listening to funky music off the owner’s ipod playlist set at a volume which only slightly impairs you ability to have a conversation with your table mate.
Those who like picking up things and bringing them home to enjoy later (I am referring to coffee here in case your mind wandered somewhere else).
Heathens who would rather drink coffee than go to church on Sundays.
Oral care enthusiasts who want clean teeth after drinking copious amounts of coffee and/or eating squares of delicious chocolate.

Anchor Coffee House

Pronounced “anchor”, this coffee house is tucked in a strip mall along Huron Chruch road. My impression is it that is owned by a young husband and wife team. The decor is more rustic than industrial, highlighted with a lot of wood accents and nice art hanging on the walls. It’s quite cozy and is open 7-5 during the week and 11-8 on Saturday. They are closed Sundays. They offer a selection of brewed coffee as well as the normal list of espresso based drinks. I ordered an decaf Americano which was delicious. Since I was there a while, I also ordered a Chai Latte which they make from scratch in a stove top process which takes an hour or so. It was complex and nicely balanced with an aggressive amount of spice and minimal sweetness. There is also a good selection of homemade cookies, scones and bars. I was there in the morning and fell in love with the sight of a frittata on display at the cash. It was a near perfect breakfast…light, fluffy, well seasoned and all that stuff.

Those who would enjoy Anchor include the following:

Local business owners and workers who no longer feel the need to head down to the street to the Tim’s or Starbucks to wait in line with the other peons.
Those who need to cleanse themselves from the defilement of chain restaurants after wondering why the hell they went to the Applebee’s next door.
Travelers who need a caffeine shot prior to crossing the border and have this ill-conceived notion that you cannot or should not stop in Detroit because you might get carjacked by members of Eminem’s eight mile cartel. (On a side note, I think coffee is ok to bring across the border but just don’t bring an orange over. The border patrol has citrus sniffing dogs and the punishment is a dirty look and having to watch a perfectly good piece of fruit tossed into the trash).
I can’t recall music playing so I think Anchor is good for those who want to enjoy the silence instead of listening to it.
Fans of frittatas, homemade soups and baked goods like grandma used to make.
Music fans who are looking for a true coffee house experience. Anchor offers live music on Saturday nights so one can be serenaded while sipping. Everybody can sleep in on Sundays.

Brewin’ Bros Coffee Company.

This is the newest addition to Windsor’s growing coffee culture. It is quietly located in a strip mall along Walker Road. In fact, I drove by it, missing the small black and white pop-up sign that was impaled in roadside snowbank. It’s internet presence is as non-existent as it’s signage. I have to admit I’m not a huge fan of the name. It sounds like a brewery; I mistakenly typed in “brew bros windsor” and was provided with numerous sites linking me to Brew, a microbrewery located on University Ave. Perhaps a better name would be naivety (pronounced naivet-a) for a number or reasons. First, it appears to have a French theme as indicated by the Eiffel tower decal by the washroom, an array of macaroons in the display case and fact that individual cups of coffee are brewed via the French press method but it lacks a Parisian bistro feeling. The ceiling is unfinished and furniture is more practical than cute. Second, the prices are lower than I would expect. Third, they don’t have decaf which I find quite odd. Fourth, the husband and wife owners look younger than my kids. I felt like a bit of a chaperone sitting there watching them making gaga eyes at each other at their makeshift office in the corner of the seating area. Lastly, they have the strangest hours. They don’t open until 11 and stay open until 1130. Apparently the model is working but I prefer a different type of brew after 8 pm. They offer a small menu which I haven’t tried except for a piece of turtle cheesecake which was quite satisfying. The macarons were decent too.

Brewin' Bros French Press and Turtle Cheesecake — Brewin’ Bros French Press and Turtle Cheesecake

Those would enjoy Brewin’ Bros include the following:

Drivers who prefer Walker Road as a means of getting in an out of Windsor and don’t mind getting their assess out of the car to get a coffee instead of joining the Tim’s or Starbucks drive-thru line.
Coffee drinkers who can enjoy a French Press at Brewin’ Bros. and then walk two doors down to Personal Service Coffee to grab a bag full of shitty mix and match Keurig pods for home.
Patrons of “Mom’s” next door who would prefer a coffee to go along with their halal fried chicken combo.
People who want a one shop stop for coffee, bubble tea and soda. You can bring your non-coffee drinking friend there, order them a bubble tea and tell them to shut the hell up.
Fans of name that tune. Acoustic sets of lyricless classic rock played who included Zeppelin and Hotel California by the Eagles, making it fun to see how it takes you to figure it out.
If you’re not a morning person or a religious zealot, this place is for you. They don’t open until 11 am, stay open until 11:30 at night and aren’t open on Sundays.

Starbucks

I love when yelpers, spooners and bloggers go into in-depth descriptions about Starbucks. “Starbucks is an international coffee chain out of Seattle that offers a variety of hot and cold drinks”. Gee thanks! All I am going to say is that I went there on my way out of Windsor and unbeknownst to me, it was the launch day of the La Boulange, the new bakery which promises a new line of French pastries that go magnificently with all Starbucks beverages. I walked into see all the tables donning dollar store pink plastic aprons and the staff wearing matching pink aprons. I felt like I was at a breast cancer fund raiser as I shoved a butter-laden chocolate croissant down my pie hole. It wasn’t bad but still tasted like a mass produced pastry.

Those who would enjoy Starbucks include the following:

People who enjoy making up a name for the side of the cup (yes..that’s right..my name is Chazz), prefer random strangers to know what your real name is or those who like watching the staff cringe when you go there with a friend of colleague with a name like Chanika or Harpreet. Come to think of it, even the name Shawn is an adventure since I often have to spell it out like I’m standing in front of my grade one teacher. If they guess it correctly though, some of them act like they just got final jeopardy right.
Those who think contrived names like grande and venti are cool and think it ironic that a tall is in fact not really tall but actually a small.
Coffee drinkers who conform to the biggest coffee conglomerate on the planet yet long to be individualists by ordering a grande no-fat, half-sweet ,extra foam soy green tea latte. In fact, I know somebody who made sure that his local Starbucks knew his individual concoction should be ordered and understood as the “Captain’s cappuccino”.
Those with a mermaid fetish. Looking at the Starbucks slogan, I don’t know how she can even hold a coffee. I think her father must have been a lobster. If there was even an American Horror Story:Coffee Shop series she could be one of the lead roles
Of course, the numerous locations, familiarity and convenience of a drive-thru make it an easy choice for many people.

My Take

In addition to an influx of new and trendy restaurants, Windsor’s coffee scene has taken off in the last couple of years. The success of such a scene is not indicated by the number of Starbucks within the perimeter of a city but instead a vibrant selection of independent retailers. This is not a blog to say that one of these establishments is better than other. If you’re in Walkerville or want a latte with housemade almond milk, go to Salute Espresso bar. If you want a wicked chai latte in the west end, go to Anchor Coffee House. If a little name that tune and a french press is your preference, then Brewin’ Bros. Coffee Company is your destination. I think riffs between independent businesses are counterproductive. That’s what rap and religion are for. Toronto adopted a coffee house passport a few years back in which patrons who visited a number of participating vendors got a coffee mug or a t-shirt with a completed card. It’s a small gesture, but it targets the people who would rather not stare at lobster-clawed mermaids. That said, imagine if the number of Timbucktoos (my term to describe Tim Horton’s/Starbucks regulars) in Windsor dropped and even 10% of their business was diverted to small businesses like these. Maybe these businesses would get drive-thrus, roll up the rim, put pink plastic on the tables and maybe even name their cup sizes something ridiculous like douze or seize.

In the end, the advent of coffee shops in Windsor is indicative of the city’s evolution as a whole. Hopefully in five years these places will continue to be vibrant partners in the community and not causalities of big box (or in this case big cup) retailers. It starts one brew, macaroon or frittata at a time.

Day 2 and 3 in Halifax: Stealing Bikes, Nauseous Bus Rides and Bonehead Lumbersexuals

March 7, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I woke up the next morning with two items left on my list: to have a lobster roll and hit a “You gotta eat here”. The weather had changed from an east coast storm to a cold, still day. Some of my colleagues who got in earlier in the week had gone to dinner at the Bicycle Thief (which promises offers North American food with an Italian soul) and raved about the experience. I checked out the website and was pleased to see a lobster roll featured prominently on their high gear menu. I also recalled a friend of mine fondly reminding me that the best calamari she ever had was on a Halifax pier and since this restaurant overlooked the water and featured flash fried squid as an appetizer, all was good. I’m not sure of the origin of the name of the restaurant but I suspect it may be a reference to a 1949 Italian movie of the same name which scores a impressive 98% on rotten tomatoes. Or maybe people just like stealing bikes along the pier.

I skipped out at lunch and took the 5 minute walk to Bishop’s landing and was seated near the window overlooking the harbour. I gave the menu a quick glance already knowing what I was going to order. Shortly after, a slightly awkward waiter arrived and took my order. The two-minute flash fried calamari ($9) arrived a lot longer than two minutes later. It’s appearance was a bit anemic and it’s taste was the same. Even with the aioli, it lacked punch and the promised garlic was a little underwhelming. The squid itself was surprisingly chewy given the short fry time but this was likely due to the thinness of the cut.

The lobster roll ($19) was delivered shortly after on a plate which had the name the of the restaurant proudly displayed on the rim (which as I mentioned in a previous blog seemed to be a Halifax thing). The roll itself had that pleasant and nasty wonder bread taste which was generously stuffed with the sweet, sour and crunchy lobster mix. The fries and salad were sleepy sides which did very little to enhance the plate as a whole.

Later that night I attended a group dinner that was part of the conference. On the map, the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Club seemed like a short jaunt but the need to navigate the Halifax peninsula turned it into somewhat of an adventure. The driver got lost and it took nearly 30 minutes to get there. The God awful temperature in the bus when combined with the winding roads lead a bunch of nurses I was on the bus with refer to the vehicle as the “menopause bus”. As a result of the travel induced hot flashes, most of us were ready to vomit by the time the doors opened and I had a new appreciation for the trails of tribulations of a 50 plus year old woman.

Those with no familiarity with the Maritimes would picture the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Club as a posh hamlet with a snooty clientele donning ascots and smoking jackets. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Instead, it was more like a rustic clubhouse that smelled a little like gramma’s house. This was one of those dinners where you pick your entree in advance and have the choice between fish, beef or chicken. Although haddock is a bit of a poor man’s fish which is often used a as cheaper alternative to cod or halibut in fish and chips, I was told to always order fish on the coast since cows and chickens tend to avoid the ocean. The fish arrived hugging 3 or 4 ounces of fresh lobster including a claw. I can’t imagine anywhere else on the planet where this would simply be called “haddock”. In the eyes of a Maritimer, lobster is simply “the other white meat”.

After a double hit of lobster and a good night’s sleep, my only objective on day three was to hit a “You Gotta Eat Here”. A quick look at the map indicated that Bonehead’s BBQ was only a few blocks away. I walked over, knowing I was getting close when I could smell the air filled with the sultry scent of smoked swine. It was a small place with a few tables and a takeout counter which overlooks a small kitchen. The staff appeared to be lumbersexuals; a term to describe those with a rural, rugged look yet (usually sporting a beard) but at the same time adhere to a urban lifestyle. I ordered the white trash fries ($6.99) which were fresh cut fries topped with thick sausage gravy. Lumbersexual number two threw down a pan and made the gravy to order which I found most impressive. They were nasty and I mean that in the sense of feeling like you’re doing something wrong but it seems so right. I would have preferred a crumbled sausage instead of the kielbasa style pieces used in the gravy but it had all the elements of a good, greasy and naughty experience.

I also ordered a brisket sandwich ($6.99) and a side of mac and cheese ($3.50). The brisket itself was not mind blowing but still had was reminiscent of some of the good, southern smokehouses. Mac and cheese is like a banana; it has the ideal consumption window of a few minutes. As much as I like a good pot of Kraft Dinner, I fail to be impressed when it falls below a tongue burning temperature. Like the white trash fries, the mac and cheese was made to order so it arrived and stayed hot, keeping its flavour which I would probably put in the top third of mac and cheese that I’ve had.

For dessert I grabbed a banana pudding ($4.25) that was nicely packaged in a plastic take out container and complimented with nilla wafers. Honestly, it tasted like something made from a hand mixer and an endorsement from Bill Cosby (before he went from Cliff Huxtable to America’s not so friendly sweater wearing dad and possible dirty old man).

Mac and Cheese ($3.50), Brisket Sandwich $6.99), Banana Pudding ($4.25) and White Trah Fries ($6.25) — Bonehead’s Mac and Cheese ($3.50), Brisket Sandwich $6.99), Banana Pudding ($4.25) and White Trash Fries ($6.99)

My Take

I was successful in my attempt to complete my bucket list during my short visit to Halifax. Day two involved a lobster roll with awkward service at a place named after a 16 year old bully and a sickening bus ride to gramma’s house to eat unadvertised lobster hidden under a slab of haddock. Day three involved eating southern food in the east prepared made to order by friendly lumbersexuals who know less about wood than Bill Cosby.

Halifax is a quintessential Canadian city with amazing people, a small town mentality, branded plates and an attitude which shines despite bombardment by east coast weather, economic woes and bad curling teams. Although it’s food will not likely top the national ranks, it has great local pints, pays respect to the almighty lobster, owns the Canadian donair and makes eating pizza on a street corner a drunkard’s after hours tradition . Does it git any better?

De Niro’s Pad, Homicidal Snowplows and Psychoanalysis at Rino’s Kitchen

February 15, 2015 spennyrd2 Comments

I love Windsor. I’ve mentioned before it reminds me of my hometown of Sudbury. Although it will probably never be part of a conversation about the best dining destinations in Canada, Windsor has quietly evolved into a diverse and vibrant culinary locale. Driven by a number of mom/pop or brother/sister joints, one can choose almost anything. If you’re in the mood for a family style joint, you can hit the Lumberjack’s salad bar or order Penalty Box’s chicken delight. Food Network junkies can hit a number of joints visited by John Catucci on You Gotta Eat Here. If you are in the mood for ethnic food, there is fantastic Italian along Erie Street and great Thai, Lebanese and even Ethiopian scattered throughout the city. If you are still stuck you can hop onto Windsor Eats, an impressive website which provides up to date information on local restaurants and even offers tours which highlights local fare.

What makes things even better are the uncontrolled circumstances which usually occur involving a trip to Windsor. It’s never simply a go to a restaurant, eat and leave experience. There are always a few things which happen along the way that makes things stranger than fiction. Take my recent visit for example.

I left the hospital on my way to a meeting with two colleagues; one works with my company and the other is a local doctor. The latter had suggested we hit an Italian cafe so we can experience Erie Street. Once I turned onto the street, we pulled over in front the first cafe we found that looked open. I’m reluctant to name it over fear for my car tires and general well-being. Upon entry, the people in the place scattered, abandoning any card games or whatever else was going on. The cafe basically consisted of a small bar, a huge espresso machine and an empty gelato bar with a smaller ice cream cooler beside it which was housing three or four flavours. Looking around I saw a bunch of Italian guys, a picture of Robert De Niro (who apparently visited during Superbowl in Detroit) and an aged and framed oil painting of an Italian man who I have yet to identify. I think I even saw the eyes follow me as I walked around the place. A large television was showing Grey’s Anatomy much to the pleasure of a few of the patrons. Things seemed to settle down once they figured out we weren’t cops and we were able to order. Given it was about 10 degrees below zero, I ordered a decaf Americano and my work colleague ordered a latte. The doctor, on the other hand, ordered a chocolate gelato on a waffle cone and proceeded to eat it like a happy 12 year old child. While we waited, an old Italian guy walked out of the washroom. He was either hiding in there after thinking a sting was going down or maybe he just needed to use the facilities but his reaction was nothing short of priceless. I should point out that my colleague is an attractive blond woman whose likes probably haven’t stepped foot in that cafe for 30 years. His jaw hit the floor like a Warner Brother’s character and he started speaking in tongues. The woman behind the espresso machine just told him to go sit down. He complied but continued to mutter drunken Italian nonsense in our direction for the remainder of the visit. In between bites of chocolate, the doctor suggested that I should probably switch chairs so my back wasn’t facing the front door. So, with Dr. Dreamy on the tube, a smiling De Niro on the wall and a bunch of old Italian guys (including the paisan in the oil painting) staring at us, we had our meeting, finished our coffees (and gelato of course) and scurried out.

After we dropped him off we decided to grab a bite. Not only was is cold but it was starting to snow. I should take this opportunity to point out something about Windsor; they don’t like snow. In fact, they would have no problem declaring a state of emergency once enough snow falls to erect a Tyrion Lannister snowman. So, with nothing more than a centimeter of snow on the ground, out came the plows. I was driving down one of the many one way streets and a saw the plow behind me. I was immediately reminded of a scene from 1986’s Maximum Overdrive. The only thing missing was the Green Goblin face. The homicidal plow approached at a feverish pace, sending sparks instead of snow ten feet into the air. I turned onto another street the minute I had a chance, took a deep breath and realized that my life had now been threatened twice in the same evening.

We eventually decided on dinner at Rino’s kitchen. Rino’s encourages you to “Taste the finest Essex County has to offer. Farm to table at its best in a relaxed pub atmosphere.” It was also recently featured on an episode of “You Gotta Eat Here”. At this point I should point out the fact that, like most cities, there is a subset of Windsor’s population who thinks they are hipsters. The last time I came to Rino’s there were a table of clowns that looked more like the cast of Scorpion than self-proclaimed food aficionados. To be a good hipster you really have to be a self-righteous asshole. Just wearing the plaid and sitting farm to table joint in a small, blue collar city is not enough.

Luckily, hipsters were absent on this evening. Instead, we arrived on the tail end of an art show. Small pictures were hanging all over the place. In fact, we switched tables so as not to get in the way of the viewing audience. I did have a look at some of the pictures and my colleague, with her psychology background, had commented that most of them looked like Rorschach blots. I had to agree and felt tempted to lay down on the bench I was sitting on. One of them looked like De Niro pointing a gun at me. Another looked like the Green Goblin. Asa a result, I quickly ordered on of the four or five Ontario pints available on tap.

The menu offers all sorts of choices ranging from seasonal salads to protein laden mains. I’m always a fan of house-cured meats, so we started with the charcuterie plate for $15. Two types of meat (salami and coppa) and cheese (asiago and pecorino) were served along with roasted red peppers and bread. The quality of the ingredients were quite good although it would have been nice to have some mustard or other condiments along side. I would have also liked to see something like aged Ontario cheddars available “on board”.

As tempted as I was to order the signature pork and waffles, the pleasant waitress talked me into the seasonal oxtail stew served atop potato mash ($17). The stew was filled with tender meat and carrots and served in a hearty portion with more carrots on the side. It was a lot of carrots. Maybe a few green vegetables would have been better. In addition to a good dose of carotene, it was a delicious dish which was seasoned well.

They offered an apple crisp and a pumpkin walnut cheesecake for dessert. I ordered the latter. Pumpkin and walnut go well together and the cheesecake was not overly sweet or heavy. I think the icing sugar was a fitting garnish for a couple of reasons. First, it’s kind of a f#ck you to the hipster movement who would likely reference the fact if wasn’t 2003 and then suggest a ground cherry as a more appropriate condiment. Second, it’s the perfect example of a small town, blue collar adaption of the farm to table concept in a relaxed pub environment.

My Take

In the span of a few hours, I escaped a scene from a Robert De Niro movie, outran a homicidal snowplow and got psychoanalyzed by the works of a struggling Windsor artist. I also ate a decent meal at a restaurant which adheres to farm to table principles from charcuterie to dessert without the associated urban pretension. You won’t find mason jars or the unnecessary yet abundant use of radishes at Rino’s. In fact, the menu offers trendy, tasty and reasonably priced choices without compromising portion sizes at the expense of making things look pretty. Ya, I love Windsor…with icing sugar on top.

Fare..Eat..Ales Favourite Canadian Restaurants of 2014

January 3, 2015January 18, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

This year features a steakhouse, a perennial favorite and a couple of new restaurants that have arrived with a splash. In addition, there are a few veteran restaurants that show no intention of slowing down.

10. Wellington 529- Winnipeg, Manitoba

Maybe Winnipeg isn’t known as the Mecca of fine cuisine but I enjoy a good steakhouse. Aside from what was likely the best steak I had all year, the old school service (including white lab coats) and decor made for a delicous and highly enjoyable dining experience.

9. Carmen– Toronto

Carmen is one the better and most underrated tapas bars in Toronto. One dish after another, whether traditional or with a twist, came out thoughtful, well executed and at a decent price point. In particular I still remember the blood sausage and the steak tartare. The service and ambiance were top notch as well.

8. Pizza Libretto– Toronto

In the competitive world of thin crust pizza, Pizza Libretto is one of my favorites. Service is good and everything from the anitpasto to the dessert is nicely executed.

7. Le Jambon Gros- Montreal

The perfect greasy spoon. Although the quarters are tight, the vibe coupled with delightful and innovative grill top provisions makes this a stop for me everytime I’m in old Montreal.

6. Queen and Beaver– Toronto

This long standing British pub serves authentic fare including savory puddings, fish and chips, fine english cheeses and a number of snacks which makes other pubs look like amateurs. Yes, the service can be a bit crusty at times but once you have a few cask ales in you it really doesn’t matter.

5. Thoroughbred– Toronto

Although there was only a bar menu when I went here, it was an amazing experience. The owners gave me a tour of the chef’s table and soon to be dining room. The food was fresh and innovative with a focus on vegetables. The drinks are cleaver. I plan to return early in 2015 to see if my hunch about this place translates to the full menu.

4. Rasa– Toronto

I was probably most excited about the opening of this Food Dude’s industrial looking bricks and mortar location in 2014. I wasn’t disappointed. Whether the regular menu items like root beer ribs or the mysterious fish board, the food was as creative as I expected. The drink list was smart as well. The service was as friendly as that from the food truck itself.

3. Richmond Station- Toronto

Richmond station is a perennial addition to the list. Their system is simple; a small menu (including one of the best burgers in Toronto) to default to in the event the blackboard specials are either sold out or not to one’s liking. To finish off the meal, Richmond Station has one of the most creative and visually stunning dessert menus in Toronto.

2. Maison Publique– Montreal

This fringy pub is quintessential Montreal. The menu consists of sheets of paper written in French and hanging on a bulletin board. That said, the staff are more than helpful in making sure even the English enjoy a good meal. With menu items like buccins (aka big snails) and seal mortadella, it’s almost a underground, taboo Anthony Bourdain type experience. This ultimate foodie experience is enhanced by a good beer, cocktail and wine selection.

1. Whalesbone– Ottawa

Any restaurants that starts with a selection of a half dozen oysters and Kenny Rogers spinning on the turntable is good with me. What follows is a small but impressive choice of draft and a small menu highlighted by fresh sea ingredients presented in a manner that is visually stunning. The tight but comfortable quarters, great service, amazing vibe and innovative seafood based menu including oysters served with one of the most impressive condiment carousels I’ve ever seen puts Whalesbone on top of the list for 2014.

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

December 22, 2014March 16, 2021 spennyrd2 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desserts (Gelato, Panna Cotta, Tiramisu, Budino)

My Take

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

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

Andrea Pirlo. The coolest cat in football?

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

December 13, 2014December 23, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

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

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

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

My Take

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

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

December 10, 2014December 11, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Take

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

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

December 6, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Take

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

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