Any blog that has anything to do with Donald Trump means the possible insertion of jokes about getting fired, bad hair or something to do with the apprentice.
A team function brought me to Stock, located on the 31st floor of Trump Tower. There’s a couple of things I would expect when dining at a restaurant affiliated with Donald Trump; waiters with bad hair (dammit!) and at least one staff member getting fired every night (D’oh!). Seriously, I would hope to view a few self-entitled pretentious patrons and enjoy a dining experience with unparamount attention to detail.
For goal number one, it didn’t take long. Upon arrival, I was handed a very good glass of what I recall was a Spy Valley Sauvignon Blanc and shuffled out to the balcony for some hors d’oeuvres. It was a chilly night, so I wasn’t surprised to see a couple (ie. man and woman) enjoying a couple of fine cigars and swirling some sort of amber potable while seated in the corner of the balcony as the waiters circulated with appetizers in hand . Since it was a chilly eve, they were wearing matching fur shawls. Whether supplied by the hotel or not, it’s pretty irrelevant. MATCHING FUR SHAWLS! Awesome. Mission accomplished (sorry no picture).
As for the hors d’oeuvres, I was offered prosciutto wrapped scallops, shucked oysters with fresh horse radish and fried portobello mushrooms with truffle aioli. The proscitto was a delicate diversion from the usual bacon and provided enough salt to balance the buttery sweet scallop which was cooked perfectly. The oyster was fresh and meaty. I must digress on the mushroom as I have publicly called for the banishment of both truffle and aioli as a food trend. Eating this simple finger food makes me want to take it all back. The mushroom was moist and the batter crispy….and yes, the aioli was good.
ScallopMushroom with Truffle Aioli
It was a set menu but I found the choices innovative and appealing. My starter was the octopus. It was executed well….still tender and fired properly (ok..stopping). It was seasoned well and the tender potato added some delicate earthiness to complement this treasure from the sea.
Octopus
For the entree, I ordered black cod with an edamame puree and lightly fried greens. The well seasoned flesh was glistening but wasn’t raw. The fork cut through it like butter and tasted the same. The subtle crunch of the crispy vegetables was the perfect complement from both a taste and texture perspective. From the land side, I managed to secure a small portion of the filet which was served with a vibrant pink hue indicative of a good medium rare..simple but satisfying.
Black Cod8 oz filet
Dessert was from the chocolate cart which circulated while peddling its house made wares to patrons like an ice cream truck in a subdivision. A sinful array of truffles and other delicacies weaved through the tables offering rich and artisan delicacies which were another example of the delicious attention to detail which was evident throughout the evening.
Chocolate Cart
The meal finished with some Niagara ice wines and a tasty Taylor Fladgate, 10 yr old tawny port which was simply delicious.
My Take
I expected dinner at Stock to be a adventure in posh dining and a possible fulfillment of my champagne wishes and caviar dreams. Instead of white linens, candlelight and a waiter named Jeeves, the decor was casual and comfortable and the food was the standard fare you would see at any other eatery in the area. The concepts were simple and the execution was near flawless.
Ok….I did take a quick peak at the online dinner menu and the prices were quite acceptable and rival some of the higher end restaurants in Toronto. The octopus is $17, the cod $34 and the filet is $42. The truffles are $3 a piece.
In the end, I got what I was looking for…my paparazzi experience, a good wine/port buzz and a well executed meal from start to finish. Donald, thanks for making Toronto a better place to dine, one fur shawl at a time.
The early morning humidity didn’t stop me from taking a 30 minute walk to West Randolph, an interesting stretch known for an array of restaurants of all shapes and sizes. After the first wave of high end places (including a few touting Michelin stars), you hit a block of empty, spray-painted buildings, cut in half by a highway running underneath. Shorty after, the street becomes vibrant again, filled with microbreweries and eateries slapped with celebrity names like Graham Elliot.
The apex of this West Randolph landscape is a cute spinning goat overlooking the street. This was destination number one.
Stop #1- The Little Goat Diner
This Stephanie Izard spin-off offers a bit more versatility than the flagship Girl and the Goat. You can grab a quick breakfast, feast on a hearty dinner and everything in between. You can buy of loaf of bread or drink on the roof. This particular visit was of the breakfast variety. It was about half full and we were seated quickly at a booth. The place had a definite diner vibe. I felt like John Travolta in Pulp fiction. The waiters and waitresses were current and hip and bad-ass despite donning trendy yet old school diner uniforms. There’s something about raven tattoos and dainty dresses that works for me. Coffee flowed, served with smiles and poured from old school pots into mugs stamped with that cute, smiling goat.
A Good Ol’ Fashioned Coffee
The menu is equally dichotomous. One can simply grab bacon and eggs or venture into the creative realm of a number of more exotic options. I didn’t come to Chicago to eat standard fare, so I did what any warm-blooded Irish dude would do; I ordered spaghetti. Presented like a cross between a seafood pasta and an omelette, it was boldly flavoured and sat in a delicious broth. I asked for some hot sauce and was offered a housemade smoky chipotle and an apricot flavoured option which had a little more bite. Both were delicious although I feel the former more suited for the dish. It’s not for everybody, but I’d shelve the home fries any day to dig into this seafood medley.
Breakfast spaghetti ‘n clams ‘n crab $15
My colleague went for the bull’ s eye french toast, a crafty demonstration of Korea meets chicken and waffles meets toad in the hole. The sweet dueled with the savory in every bite to create a stimulating battlefield on the tongue. Underneath the chicken, two slightly overcooked eggs stared up from the comfort of the thick brioche. In the end, the savory prevailed, so don’t order it if you need to satisfy your sweet tooth. Otherwise, It’s delicious.
Bull’s eye french toast $16
My Take: With so many choices, I’ll have to come back whether it be breakfast, lunch, dinner or sucking back drinks on the rooftop. It’s full of innovation and choices that only makes sense when you read them on a menu. Plus, I enjoy feeling like a Chicago gangster as I sip coffee in an old school diner surrounded by tattooed staff and riffraff such as myself. Don’t expect diner prices, however. It’s not a cheap, unless you come for the experience and settle for one of the daily breakfast specials.
Stop #2– Naha
A lunch appointment kept me downtown for a trip to Naha, a Michelin star restaurant with a bit of a middle eastern flare. It’s spacious and modest, reminiscent of a Moroccan villa. The waitstaff were courteous, although many were wearing these oddly large uniforms that just didn’t seem to fit. A full lunch menu is offered in what seemed to be Chicago fashion: a prix fixe menu for $22. After consuming the Little Goat breakfast earlier that day, I was sort of hoping for Blackbird type portions sizes to save the embarrassment of the ramifications of overindulgence. When asked if I wanted a beverage, I found that the beer selection was quite lame…..a bit of a cardinal sin in the heart of the craft brew craze which consumes the Midwest.
I started with the cannelloni which was stuffed with housemade ricotta and garnished with snap peas, jerusalem artichokes and a bit of fregola (small pasta balls). Nothing like some pasta on pasta action. It was a very delicate, had great texture contrast and fresh flavour….an ideal lunchtime starter.
Spinach Cannelloni
For the main, I opted for the sea loup de mer (sea bass) which wasn’t much bigger than the starter. It appeared to be a twist on a bagna cauda( a dip with strong Mediterranean flavours) which served as a salad dressing on romaine lettuce instead of being served in the typical vessel. The fish was a bit dry and the flavours reminded me of a well-disguised ceasar salad. It was a little bit of a yawn.
Loup de Mer
My colleague opted for a mezze (ie sampler) of Mediterranean goodies which included hummus, babaganoush, string cheese, spiced beef etc. It offered a true experience minus the salt water smell one might experience if eating the same thing in the homeland itself (I don’t think the smell off of Lake Michigan could mimic…even if the windows were open).
Naha Mezze
The dessert menu incorporated concepts from this side of the ocean, ignoring the expected tiramisu and baklava and replacing with American classics such as ice cream, malt and caramel corn. I went with the sundae, served with with porter ice cream topped with a crackling chocolate topping and a bit of European infusion with the use of toasted hazelnuts and a couple of triangles of nutella panini. The other choice at the table was a chocolate pave with the aforementioned sprinkles of Americana and a gold leaf as a tribute to capitalism. Both were a fitting end to a meal. There were no surprises…just well constructed and executed desserts which would be deemed delicious by anybody on the either side of the ocean.
SundaeChocolate Pave
My Take: Naha offers a well-executed lunch by fusing strong Mediterranean flavours and techniques with beloved elements of Americana. For the most part, the execution was on the mark and the portion sizes were acceptable, at least for lunch. The North American inspired desserts were the star, an irony for a place whose concepts are rooted in elements of the Middle East. The meal was well paced, the service was decent and the decor was spacious and fresh.
Stop #3– Billy Goat Tavern
Between the Billy Goat curse and the famed SNL appearance, it’s a foregone conclusion that one has to drop by this tavern during a trip to Chicago (especially on the heels of a visit to Wrigley). I won’t go into the details of the curse (you can look it up on the website, wikipedia etc.) but it involves a goat and a bunch of men….enough said.
Basically, it’s a place with the burgers, coke, beer and a spattering of other snack foods. The walls are plastered with faded newspaper articles and signed pictures and accolades from generations past. The grey-haired bartender looks like he’s won a trivia contest or two in his time and courteous staff pan the floors looking for empty steins to refill.
I ordered a burger for three bucks and change and a beer for about the same. The thin, pre-made patty is served on an oversized bun. The condiment station has the standard toppings, although I found the onions two ways rather intriguing. You could choose finally diced or thick (and I mean thick) rings. I loaded up with a pile of pickles as well. It was exactly was I expected and exactly what I wanted; a burger which brought me back to the days when it didn’t cost twenty bucks and wasn’t served with pineapple, mango, fried egg, short rib, pulled pork, bone marrow, avocado or housemade BBQ sauce. It’s just a freaking $3 burger.
Billy Goat Tavern burger and Beer
Neither the burger nor the beer will win any culinary awards, but I consider the $6 cost the price of admission for a small bite of Chicago history.
Stop #4- Topolobampo
I’ve been eying Rick Bayless’ Michelin star Topolobampo even since I ate tortilla soup at his place in the airport a couple of years ago. Plus, I’ve been mesmerized by his soothing voice while watching “Mexico: One plate at a time” and even attempted one of his moles as well as a short rib recipe, both with good success and a lot of sweat. I routed for him on Top Chef Masters and follow him on twitter. Ya..maybe it’s manlove but I was longing to experience Mexican in an environment other than the numerous taquerias which have appeared throughout Toronto.
Showing up was like entering a busy Mexican market…buzzing people all over place and busy servers navigating nachos and guacamole through the streaming crowds. I was very loud and I wondering how I would hear myself think I was went to the desk to check in. I was greeted by two gentlemen who barely looked twenty; dressed in bright colours, trendy ties and the look of either a beachfront Tommy model or a member of One Direction. They confirmed the reservation I had 4 months before and we were notified of the token short wait as they got the table ready. With the announcement, I was prepared to deal with the abundant noise that was in store for the evening. Instead, a magic door open and we were whisked into a room with half the decibels of the waiting area. We were seated, the door was shut and it felt as if we were transformed in to a secret VIP space. Water was immediately served in large, heavy blue glasses and the night began, but that’s another story…..
I arrived at Chicago’s infamous O’Hare airport at 7 am. I ran into a customer on the plane. Upon takeoff, she kindly offered me her copy of Oprah’s magazine to read on the plane, so I figured what the hell…I was going to Chicago and I did learn how to remove a mole with surgery. When we landed, we agreed to head into the core together. To my surprise, there wasn’t a cab to be found. Eventually, one arrived and it was the first of many pristine cabs (yes, I actually enjoyed the cabs in Chicago despite their stop and go and hornophilic nature) I would take during the week. The drive was slow and I eventually arrived at the Intercontinental Hotel on the magnificent mile. My room was ready, I dumped my bag and heading for a day of culinary adventure.
Stop 1– Grahamwich
Anybody who knows me is aware I’m a sucker for celebrity chefs. Graham Elliot’s sandwich shop, Grahamwich, allowed me to experience the fares of the heavy man without the need for a heavy wallet. Sitting downtown, it offers an arrays of sandwiches with sides including popcorn, chips, pickles and even soft serve ice cream. It’s a simple joint, with minimal seating and the trademark GE symbol painted here and there. It also has one of the most annoying songs I have ever heard on a website and no apparent way to turn it off. The staff resembled Graham himself, with slicked hair and wide-rimmed specs, although few would be able to mimic the speech of expectations related to cutting through the bread of a perfectly toasted sandwich.
I opted for the waldorf chicken sandwich which included grapes, walnuts, gorgonzola and celery for $8. I threw in a large order of local pickles on the side and a homemade vanilla kola for $3 each. For good measure, I grabbed a maple bacon Long John which I venture to guess was a product of local bakery Glazed and Infused for $4.
I grabbed my “To Go” pack, hopped on the subway, and jaunted up to Wrigley field to check out the field. Grabbing a bench outside the park, I dug in.
Wrigley Field
The most underrated component of a sandwich is the texture. This one was a home run! Each bite was like a great pitching performance and a couple of base hits; the chicken salad that was firm and not soggy and it had perfect walnut and celery crunch and juicy pops of grape. Delicious! I opened the cup holding two flavours of pickles (traditonal kosher dill and spicy). Equally delicious. The drink was subtly sweet and very vanilla flavoured, a polarity that might turn off a soda-pop purists. All in all, a great lunch by a great park. I even thought I saw a few tourists scanning the neighbourhood looking for the source of my lunchtime bliss.
Chicken Waldorf Sandwich and Pickles
Satisfied, I snapped a few pics and hopped back on the subway and heading up the red line to stop #2. Along the way, I succumbed to the donut and tore off a quarter. Anybody that thinks the combination of maple, bacon and donuts works…you’re right! It was sweet and salty and doughy. Let’s call it an achievement of the donut triple crown….or maybe the Cy Yum award.
Maple Bacon Donut (presumably from Glazed and Infused)
Stop #2- Metropolis Coffee
There’s a lot of hype about this coffee (it is served at GE’s restaurants after all), so I was hoping the subway ride up would be worth the visit. I walked past the patio (complete with the classic picture of my favorite bird with a smoke hanging out of his mouth and a caption reading “No Puffin”…come to think of it, how would a puffin get a cigarette in its mouth to begin with or light it for that matter) and into the rather large interior. The patrons were like a chess board; all sorts of sizes and shapes. On the other hand, the staff were similar; young and tattooed and ready to brew. I grabbed a Chemex (pronounced Chem-ex, not chem-A as some of us Canadians like to say in err) made with a nice Guatemalan bean. The execution was flawless and allowed 10 minutes or so for friendly banter. They take their coffee seriously and the final product reflected it. The payment machines were down, so I got a pat on the back and a “just pay when you leave”. Great coffee, great service, great sign. By the way, I remembered to pay…can’t risk the karma coffee.
Metropolis Coffee Front Counter
Stop #3– BIG and Little’s
Knowing I was in for a late dinner, I figured a mid-afterrnoon snack was in order. I decided to take a walk downtown and ended up at my first diner, drive-in and drive of the trip. BIG and Little’s is the brainchild of Hell’s Kitchen contestant Tony D’Alessandro, who was remembered having issues with segmenting grapefruit and who’s early and subtle exit was overshadowed by a volcanic blowup by some guy wanting to punch Ramsey in the face. Since then, he has found success in this cash only taco/burger/fish shack. It’s like a beach canteen in the middle of the city minus the seagulls, crying kids and barefoot patrons. The staff were friendly and the service was quick. I ordered a Big and Little fish taco and al pastor (pork belly). Both tacos were good although I found too much sauce on the first and not enough rendering on the latter. Otherwise, the fish was cooked perfectly (although it was swimming in a sea of lettuce) and the belly was well seasoned and worked well combined with a few sweet pineapple chunks. The fois gras and fries and fish and chips looked divine, but I was going out for dinner later so I toned down a bit, not knowing of the microscopy-requiring meal to come.
Tacos al pastor and BIG and Little’s tacos- $4 and $3.50
Verdict- 3.5 Guyz
Stop #4– Blackbird
I’m going to do a full review in a separate blog, but one of the dangers of Michelin star restaurants is portion size. In this case, Blackbird could be renamed “Blackbird Food”. Bitesize frog leg portions, matchbox sized sturgeon and half a chicken wing were highlights of the dishes served. Although the flavours were nice, the crowded room, average service and the aforementioned small bites left this star shining dimly. The desserts were good though!
It was three o’clock on a Saturday, and the regular crowd shuffled in. There was lots of old men next to me, making love to their surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym.
That was the scene. I tend to go to DDD during off hours to avoid crowds but it looks like there is no lull here. There was a short wait list and 5 of us were seated within 15 minutes of arriving.
I agree with many other reviews about the no nonsense attitude of the waitstaff. It’s not a bad thing. If you want traditional Polish food served traditionally, you got it! Goblets, bowls and plates are slammed down throughout the meal, but in an efficient and endearing way. I mean, they carry 5 or 6 glasses at a time on a tray and I needed two hands just to lift it up to my mouth.
Big Heavy Beer
Any place that makes 6 soups a day is a friend of mine. I had two..the dill pickle and the chicken noodle. Based on the DDD endorsement and other ratings of the pickle soup I expected a bit more but it was good. The chicken noodle soup was straight forward and delicious and somewhere around $2.50.
Dill Pickle Soup
Five of us tried the cabbage rolls and five of us were happy. The tomato sauce was simple and tart. The cabbage was cooked but not soggy. The filling was zachwycający (delicious). Even the beans and mashed potato fit the theme perfectly….simple, traditional and homey.
Cabbage Rolls
The Surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym is sausage with beer sauce. The kielbasa was tasty, seasoned well and big and the sauce was a nice, heartwarming compliment. The kraut, however, stole the show.
Surowa kielbasa with Sousie piwnym
I was talking to Davy, who sure liked the gravy…..the Hungarian pancake was over the top. I saw it on DDD and thought Guy was pulling tricks on me. He wasn’t. Everything was done exactly as described on the show and the flavours were rich. This dish was phenomenal. Even bite was different but with an underlying sameness that was delicious. From an authenticity perspective, pork vs beef is a mundane argument when the seasoning and complexity of the dish is so incredible.
Hungarian pancake-
The biggest disappointment was the pierogi. They were rather bland and overcooked. This may be a difference of opinion, but I prefer a softer dumpling, not one with a crunchy exterior. They were decent but not what I had hoped for.
Pierogi
Dessert was two crepes, one apple and one cheese. I ordered this because the waitress said they were both homemade. Apple was great. Cheese was a bit chalky and wasn’t helped by the sour cream. Some of the tasty apple compote on the side would of been a better balance in regards to taste and flavour.
My Take
Portions are plentiful and the food is good. The menu is diverse enough to appeal to any combination of people you choose to dine with. Just don’t expect too many smiles, except for the mischievous…..ok, creepy dolls which adorn the walls. Polish Village cafe…..we’re all in the mood for a melody and you got us feeling alright.
Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum.
Verdict
Despite the pierogi, this place still gets 5 Guyz!
Pacific junction hotel is a newish joint on King East. The exterior blue gives this place away at street level and the inside is even more eccentric. It looks like a garage sale gone wrong, complete with a bathtub posing as a seat, formica tables and mismatched chairs ranging from cast iron to benches. A large TV hangs over the dining room and at the time was projecting life size images of Guy Fieri biting into sloppy sandwiches.
Although it sounds like it should be in Vancouver, I imagine the name of the restaurant has something to do with the fact that it’s a mix of food found in countries with some association with the Pacific Ocean. It’s sort of an Asia meets Mexico thing, with a little South America thrown in for good measure. Oddly, there’s also a bit of the Atlantic ocean added in the form of a few jerk recipes. You can choose among wraps and rolls,burgers, tacos or a mishmash of standard bar food including nachos or artichoke dip. There are a few vegetarian options as well.
The menus were thrown on the table and the waitress quickly disappeared. They looked well-used, a few pages of printed paper housed with duo tangs that probably had everything from hot sauce to draught beer spilled all over it. The cocktails feature rum or tequila/mezcal, served in a mason jar or a bowl. There are also a few beer (either in a jar or a pitcher) available as well. I opted for a jalapeno/pineapple mojito in a large jar for $9.30. It was minty and sweet although the added flavours were almost undetectable. I should of savored it more but I was unaware it would be the only drink I was having on this night.
Jalapeno and Pineapple Mojito $9.30
I started with bison sliders for $13. Each were topped with a different concoction of flavours although I was particularly interested in the blueberry compote. They arrived in a Asian bamboo steamer. The patties were overdone, charred to the point where the toppings (even the blueberry!) couldn’t save them. The chips were hidden in the second steamer beneath and were ordinary and unseasoned but were made a bit better with a slather of hot sauce sitting at the table.
Next were the chimichurri tacos (3 for$12). It’s almost tearful to watch beef tenderloin cooked beyond recognition. Even the shells were overdone and cracked when I attempted to bend them. The intense heat and acid I expect from a good chimichurri was absent.
Chimichurri Tacos ($12)
At this point, with my mojito drained in an attempt to offset the dry meat (I wasn’t so much as offered a water at any point in the evening) I ordered one of the half dozen or so draught beer available. Perhaps she was upset at the fact I asked her to recite the choices (I had to laugh because one of them was simply “IPA”), but I never saw it. She walked by a few times and scanned the table but no pint arrived despite the fact I had no drinking vessel anywhere is my vicinity.
Spinach dip is an iconic bar food that’s a bit difficult to master. In addition to flavour, it needs to achieve that optimal solidity window, meaning it’s neither too runny or too thick. The dip hit the mark in flavour, but once it cooled a bit, it was near impossible to navigate through it, especially with the skinny, generic, rainbow nachos chips (yes, 2005 called and they want their trend back).
Spinach Dip ($10.50)
Finally, there were the spring wraps. More commonly called spring rolls, they are usually available for about $4 at any Thai restaurant (maybe $5 if they throw shrimp in it). The price points at the junction were $8 and $12 respectively. Both the rolls and the side sauce were pretty average and not worth the price, even with dry tortilla thingys on the side.
Mango Spring Wraps ($8??!!)
My Take
Serving overcooked bison sliders in a bamboo steamer is not fusion…..it’s confusion. The tacos were average at best and the mango spring rolls were overpriced. The artichoke dip was flavorful but once it cooled below the dipping point the frail chips didn’t stand a chance. The service was not good.
In other words, Pacific Junction Hotel reminds me of going to that house in the neighbourhood with the guy who entertains out of his cluttered garage. Everybody calls him Uncle Gus because he burns his eyebrows off twice a year singeing meat with a three foot flame while the wife attempts to cook ethnic food with bottled sauces and her fingers crossed. Their disgruntled daughter is forced to help serve as opposed to locking herself in her room to share anecdotes of her embarrassing parents with her facebook friends. Even worse, the six-pack you bring over to drown the predicted pain suddenly disappears and you’re left drinkless for the remainder of the evening and develop a increasing desire to drink out of the garden hose.
Much like the Bermuda Triangle may be the bane of the Atlantic Ocean, the junction may be that of the Pacific, with the triangle representing bad service, bad decor and bad food.
It seems fitting that Fidel Gastro (aka Matt Basile) would choose to name this pop-up as a tribute to Elvis but call it Lisa Marie instead of something like “The King on Queen” or “Heartbreak Hotel”. In fact, the only Elvis references in the place are the large wall mural, a ceramic bust (similar to the same one I hung out a window driving up Gordon St. in Guelph after a university bender…that’s another story) behind the bar and an “Elvis is a jar” dessert.
I guess FG is kind of like Lisa Marie in the sense that he has experienced a quiet kind of success as opposed to flamboyant Elvis style exhibited by chefs like Mark McEwan and Lynn Crawford. There’s a Church of Scientology (Lisa Marie’s old hangout ) underground secrecy about him despite the fact he was featured on a recent CBC documentary. In fact, one could argue he may be as fictional as the war in Wag the Dog or “the Mandarin” in Ironman 3. That thought was put to rest, however, when I actually met the legend….and I have proof. He took a break from buzzing around the joint to snap a pic.
Proof Fidel Gastro does exist
Lisa Marie has grasped onto the growing trend of small tapas plates seen in some of the nearby joints. The menu is presented in Cicchetti style, an Italain term for small dishes although many of the dishes have an international fare. Most of the items are snack size and less than $10 each. You’ll also notice nothing on the menu makes any references to any of the Presleys.
After consultation with two separate staff members , both told me to try the deep fried pizza, the pork belly cheese thang, the alabama tailgators and if I wanted something lighter, the fresh tuna puttanesca rolls. As for drinks, after a pint of Wellington I ordered the Getaway car, a Casear-like drink with either tequila, gin or vodka served with a 6 oz chaser of draught beer for $13. Pretty simple but pretty smart. I opted for gin. It was simple and delicious in a full pint glass, souped up with lime, spiced nicely with housemade hot sauce, a few green pickled beans and a salt and pepper rim coloured with paprika.
Getaway Car $13
At first I thought the Alabama Tailgaters were going to be Cajan gator tails and not bacon wrapped carpaccio with kimchi and cheddar. They were delicious, balanced well with the salty bacon, rich beef and acid from the combination of kimchi and the accompanying housemade pickles. At the same time I ordered the deep fired duck pizza. I stared a bit perplexed, not sure if if should use a fork or eat it like a taco. The dough was a bit tough and the pizza was a bit hard to navigate, but the duck was moist and flavorful. It was sweetened slightly with a tasty hoisin sauce. Both dishes provided great mouthfeel with a subtle bit of crunch in every bite.
Deep fried duck pizza $8 and Alabama Tailgaters $8
Round 2 was the second set of the server’s recommendations, this time focusing on the tuna rolls and pork belly cheese thang (I feel so gangsta now). I will concur, the puttanesca rolls are the lightest thing on the menu..and probably the ONLY light thing on the menu. They were stuffed with a good amount of tuna and crunchy veggies but I wasn’t a huge fan of the dipping sauce. If anything, I would hope the sweet would overpower or at least match the sour but I found the vinegar and seasoning to be too predominate and a bit off . As for the pork belly, if thang is gangsta for f”ing delicious, then the description is accurate. The use of havarti was brilliant as it created a base reminiscent of a queso fundido while remaining pliable enough to be used as a taco shell. The pork belly and salsa it held were nice partners accented by a subtle amount of sweet and spicy aioli.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the pantry. FG took advantage of the deli case left behind by the previous tenants to peddle some of his wares including prepared meats and bacon jam. In addition, there are shelves of pickles vegetables, sloppy joes mixes, hot sauces etc for purchase. Most jars are priced around $8 and allow one to bring home a souvenir of the visit to Queen St.’s version of Graceland.
My Take
The food is innovative and well executed. The tuna, pork , beef and duck were all prepared in expert fashion. The pork belly cheese thang was a Gangsta’s paradise. The getaway car concept was simple but brilliant. It was pretty easy to fill up and have a couple of drinks for around $50. The service was top notch as well.
Having existed for about 5 weeks, there are still some growing pains. There’s no website (although a menu is hidden within the blog tab on the FG website) and they still haven’t figured out if they want to expand to daily late night offerings in a fashion similar to the nearby Odd Seoul, 416 snack bar and Bar Isabel. Case and point…The dessert menu was on the other side of the bar and wasn’t printed on the menu, so I didn’t realize it existed. I asked for an Elvis in a jar (the only menu item making reference to the king) but the kitchen had already closed around 11pm on a Thursday night. A mild inconvenience I suppose. Trust me, I’ll be back.
Otherwise, the blueprint of Lisa Marie allows for the creative license demonstrated by the Fidel Gastro catering and food truck endevours. This same creativity has been expanded to an impressive pantry and cocktail list. The early menu features no distinct style of fare but this shouldn’t be mistaken as synonymous to the Fat vs Skinny Elvis identity crisis (although the frequent use of the deep fryer may suggest the former). There’s a direction among the madness and other dishes I still want to try. Like Lisa Marie at the time of her father’s death, this place has some growing up to do but should mature into a successful franchise without the need to marry Michael Jackson and Nicholas Cage.
Bar Isabel is one of a new flock of hipster joints popping up on the outskirts of the Ossington strip. Perhaps they are listening to consumers because instead of puffing out their plaid chests with ridiculous policies, they actually take reservations and accept plastic.
As for the décor, it’s a mix of a man cave and grandma’s kitchen. The lights were dim and music was blasting but tables are meticulously arranged throughout. The walls looked liked they could either hold pictures of bikini clad women or cozy covered tea pots and miniature dolls. The music itself was moderately loud and quite eclectic but it fit the atmosphere.
The staff were like Dr. Seuss characters…some were short and some were tall, some used gel and some were bald. Some looked stoic and some looked glad, some wore bowties and some wore plaid. Even the patrons fit the bill, ranging from a couple that looked like they just left the Rolling Stones concert to a woman at the other end of the bar who had the hair and wardrobe of somebody who belongs in a sepia photo that would be framed on one of grandma’s shelves in the main dining room.
The hostess with fiery red hair ( at least it appeared to be red in the dim light so I’ll call her red fish) sat me at the bar. A “You may get wet on this ride” might have been appropriate because at times I got the odd spray of soda water or lemon from the frantic workings of the barkeep (who I will aptly call blue fish) whipping up an array of traditional and not so traditional cocktails. Quite fun. I threw my hat in and ordered a classic….a 2.5 oz corpse reviver #2 (Plymouth gin, cointreau, lillet blanc, lemon juice, absinthe rinse) for $15. Delicious but expensive.
Corpse Reviver #2 $15 (Funeral home priced)
I quickly realized that she was the Rosetta stone of Bar Isabel. She quickly recommended a few dishes which I properly wouldn’t have ordered otherwise because A) they didn’t look the most appealing and B) I didn’t know what the hell they were. Yes, I will admit that in cases I have pulled out the blackberry in secrecy to look up a menu item I didn’t recognize. She raved about the boquerones and the mojama salad and offered a brief explanation of each. I said sure. She also suggested the fried chicken, telling me it was the best in Toronto.
I started with the Giardiniera Pickles. They were spiced nicely and offered a terrific variety of veggies. They were a bit oily which I suppose is characteristic of this type of pickle. Plus, they had fancy plates.
Giardiniera Pickles $3
Boquerones are anchovies, usually soaked in vinegar. Served with paquillo peppers and jalapenos, this is one of the best things I’ve eaten all year; an absolute sensory overload. Acid predominated but was tamed by the sweetness of the paquillo, the heat of the jalapeno and the buttery saltiness of the fish itself. The homemade corn chips brought some earthiness and crunch and were absolutely delicious on their own. Plus, they had fancy plates.
Boquerones $9
Mojama is salted tuna. Once again, a fantastic balance was achieved with the richness of the tuna combined with zesty orange, pungent red onion and earthy almonds. The same ingredients offered a great textural contrast was as well. Each bite was a salty and fleshy with a bit of juiciness and crunch. The sorrel was a delicious addition. I actually wanted a bit more. Plus, they had fancy plates.
Mojama, Orange & Marcona Almonds $11
Fried chicken is fried chicken. Both the chicken and the eggplant were served hot. The coating was nicely spiced and surrounded moist white meat which was cut in chicken finger size pieces. I found it a bit greasy which resulted in putting the tea towel to good use. The eggplant was cooked nicely and wasn’t mushy although it was an odd side to serve with the chicken. Plus, they had fancy plates.
Fried Chicken with Eggplant $13
My Take
The service was impeccable. I was seated quickly, there was no attitude and no fewer than 5 employees checked on me during the service. In fact, when one of them realized I was waiting to pay my bill he dropped everything and settled up even though he wasn’t my server. I was asked my opinion about all the dishes. I was even impressed when the guy I assumed was the manager or owner smelled my empty wine glass and asked me how I enjoyed the Italian wine I ordered.
If this is the new wave of hipster joints I’m all in! I felt like I was the customer and not an intruder shunned for not knowing what the hell a boquerone was. They take credit cards and reservations. The food was solid, there are good beer on tap (including a Dieu du Ciel, Rosee D’Hibiscus, Belgian Wit which I am drinking right now) and the decor is unique but welcoming. I plan to come back to tackle the whole fish ceviche or octopus and maybe the tripe stew. I’ll pass on the horse however.
In the end, Dr Seuss said it best:
One fish, Two fish, Red fish, Blue fish,
Black fish, Blue fish, Old fish, New fish.
This one has a littlecar.
This one has a little star.
Say! What a lot of fish there are.
Yes. Some are red, and some are blue.
Some are old and some are new.
Some are sad, and some are glad,
And some are very, very bad.
In particular, from a fish perspective,both the mojama and boquerones were bad ass. Blue fish is attentive and makes a mean drink. Not bad for a place where, without the help of red fish, I would have ordered a bunch of other things which may or may not have been just as good. In the end, I guess I’ll have to come back and find out. This bar is a little star.
I was driving down Ossington looking for a lunch spot and noticed a sandwich board advertising a Cuban lunch. Intrigued, I parked and dropped in for lunch at Delux, which focuses on this side of the Atlantic during the day as a deviation from the French-inspired dinner service at night.I was quickly seated and found som irony in the fact that I was seated facing a wall size pictur of the alphabet in a plac that can’t spell th word Delux.
A menu offering on a clipboard was provided to me quickly.
Bottles of water served Ossington-style* were readily available.
Conch fritters were ordered as an appetizer. They were very good and served piping hot.
Dessert was not an option since I got the bill before I was even asked if I wanted any.
Expensive cocktails….$14 for a 2 oz mojito?
Fried ripe plantains were spiced nicely but were oversalted.
Guava juice for $3 was a refreshing option.
Ham on the cubano was abundant.
Indigestion ensued.
Jalapenos were served with the Cuban to spice it up.
Kicking myself for not ordering the rice and beans.
Lackluster dipping sauce served with conch fritters.
Mustard on the cubano was delicious and not overbearing.
Nice amount of melted swiss on the cubano sandwich. Served at a great temperature.
Oysters are available for a bit over two bucks each.
Pressed cubano sandwich was quite good but not remarkable.
Questionable service. She made no suggestions, was slow and somewhat apathetic.
Roast pork on the cubano was moist and delicious.
Salads looked good. They were ordered by other tables.
Takes credit card! Woohoo!
Underwhelming decor.
Vegetarian choices include avocado, cheese and tomato sandwiches as well as salads and sides.
Wine list focuses primarily on Canadian and French with a few US, Spanish and Italian choices thrown in.
X is not the last letter in Deluxe.
You might want to share the conch fritters. There are too many and they are too rich for one person.
Zagat ranking of 23 for food. Lower for service and decor.
*-Ossington-Style water service usually involves a continuous supply of tap or still water served in some sort of glass vessel or carafe.
I must admit I was a bit let down after raising my hopes with the thought of an exotic Cuban lunch. The food was authentic enough but the service made me feel like I was JFK in a Cuban restaurant during the Bay of Pigs invasion.
This experience may have been an anomaly from a place which normally promises a favourable dining experience, but for now the absent E in Delux may represent “excellence” because it was definitely missing on this particular day.
Maybe it’s because I live in a city where my choices are limited to mild or hot italian. Maybe it’s because I still reminisce about the mustard laden monstrosity I had during Oktoberfest in Munich last year (even though it’s width that matters, not length right?)
Sausage at Oktoberfest and origin of my sausage envy
Wvrst opened a couple of years ago in an attempt to mesh the Oktoberfest experience with the downtown Toronto dining scene. Nicely polished wooden communal tables fill the second-story open space as music (don’t expect any Walter Ostanek) fills the air. Against one wall are shelves full of beer beside 16 or so draught taps ranging from local to international, with a focus on German favorites. In the back is where you order, pay and have a seat.
The menu is like the United Nations of sausage. With around two dozen choices, one can stick with a traditional German brat, an italian pork sausage or experience the tastes of South Africa, Tunisia, Slovania or Mexico. If you’re more of a Duck Dynasty fan, you can opt for Guniea fowl, pheasant or duck. Big game like wild boar, elk, venison and bison compete for you palate with cute bunnies and kangaroos. There are even vegetarian options for those who choose to eat what food eats. You can top your choice with peppers, sauerkraut or jalapenos or even a tomato curry sauce.
The fries are available straight up or dirty and with or without duck fat. Dirty means topping them with the same toppings available for the sausage. If you don’t want it dirty, you can get one of about a dozen dipping sauces on the sauce.
Masked with onion and jalapenos, I suppose I could say this was any of the majestic meats, but I did opt for wild boar stuffed with mushroom and tea. The bun was like the old lady down the street; crusty on the outside but soft in the middle. I went dirty and ducky with the fries. They were magically filthy, like playing in the dirt and making mud pies.
Wvrst Dirty Duck Fries $6.50Wild Boar Sausage $9
Wvrst employees know their beer yet keep the pretension to a minimum. I mean, they use cool words like “tap takeover” and are keen to discuss the evolution of North American hops but don’t look at you like you’re an inferior moron (unless of course you insist on a bud light or try to argue that the Keith’s Cascade Hop Ale is a real beer). Featuring a slew of Quebec taps, I had a Shawinigan Handshake, a fruity and complex IPA with tremendous balance. Apparently it’s hitting the LCBO in the coming weeks (thanks to the informative barkeep for the tip).
My Take
I suppose I should insert the cliche comments about this phonetically challenged restaurant. Wvsrt lacks a vowel but doesn’t lack character. There’s no u in wvest and no i in beer (unless you’re in France or Quebec). This place is well wvrst in touting the sausage. Despite only a handful of menu items, the vast array of encased critters makes for a tough decision. The duck fries, alone or adorned with the dirt, are highly addictive. The beer selection rivals anywhere in the Toronto. The staff are knowledgeable, engaged and friendly. It can get quite loud either due to the bellowing, glass clinking drunkards lining the communal tables and/or the blaring music filling the open, square dining area. Even without lederhosen and dirndls, Wvrst has all the elements to ease my aching sausage envy without having to resort to one of the numerous hot dog carts clogging the downtown core.
Every city has at least one pasta place. Some boast an array of homemade pastas and sauces. Some boast “mama’s meatballs” or “Aunt Gina’s special sauce” since 1482. In the end, some are tremendous, others are generic clones of East Side Mario’s. I was unsure about Pastabilities in Syracuse. I mean, it seemed like a bit if a gimmick with it’s predictable play on words, striped awning, red neon sign and shameless promotion of their famous “spicy hot tomato oil”. At the same time, it was featured on DDD and celebrated its 30th anniversary in 2012, so there must be something to it.
I expected the lunch to be a typical sit down event but arrived to find that the hostess was replaced by a sign instructing diners (in not so many words) to grab a seat, get in line, grab a tray, read the specials and you’re on your way. There are piles of food; cold salads, multiple pasta choices, stacked sandwiches and personal pizza (based on the size..personal if you are Guy Fieri, Adam Richman and Rob Ford combined). All pastas were under $8 and pizzas were $4.50. You can even snatch a glass of wine at the end of the line if so inclined.
Is it a gimmick? I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
“Side” Thai Beef Salad and Hot Tomato Oil PastaPasta and Tomato Sauce and Greek Pasta Salad“Personal” Pizza with Broccoli SaladMeatball Sub
My Take
Is the food as good as it looks? Well….yes. The salads were abundant and delicious. The pasta was al dente and delicious. The bread was crusty and chewy. The pizza crust was divine. The toppings, whether on the pasta, pizza or sandwich, hit the mark. I wanted to do unmentionable things with that spicy hot tomato oil. The entire bill was lower than a loss to Georgetown.
I loved the lunch concept. The serve yourself idea is casual yet sophisticated; fun yet frugal. It’s hard to explain but it just worked. It’s no wonder the place was lined up out the door.
Ridiculously good food in ridiculous portions at ridiculously low prices is always a winning combination. With a plethora of lunch choices, this place has ultimate pastabilitites….there…I said it. Sounds as cheesy as the meatball sub.
Fare..Eat..Ales 