People in Newfoundland move at their own pace. Case and point was Coffee Matters, a little coffee house located kiddy (or maybe I should say Quidi) corner from the Sheraton. During lunch, I went and ordered a quartet of coffees to avoid the hotel brew. They ranked as medium on the difficulty scale (eg. soy milk, double espresso shot). They took an extraordinary amount of time but were pretty decent in the end.
Once the meeting was over, another hike ensued. This one was significantly longer but not as steep as the Signal Hill hike the day before. The weather however, was significantly worse than day one, coming in at 8 degrees Celsius without the wind chill in mid-June. I persevered and experienced a pleasant combination of inclines, declines and long stretches of land peppered with man made steps, bridges and rock paths. That said, I did often wonder what would happen if someone sustained a significant ankle sprain given there is not a road to be found for a number of kilometres. The journey ended at the eastern most part in North America which makes for another bucket list check mark. I even have the picture to prove it.
Eastern Most Point In North America
Again, a good hike calls for a good beer and some of the locals brought us to the Duke of Duckworth, one of the oldest drinking holes in St John’s. With the beer came a few orders of nachos ($15) and the famous cod nuggets and chips ($11.59). The nachos were good. The fish and chips was amazing. Both were golden brown and pub-delicious. I found the staff a bit grumpy but copious amounts of deep fried goodness and cold beer made up for it.
Dinner that night was at Basho. Best described as a sushi joint that took a wrong turn in Albuquerque and ended up in St. John’s, it was initially the joint project of a father and son team which I can best describe as Newfoundlasian. The son (who I met) runs the show. We had a set menu but a sushi sampler was waiting at the table when we sat. It was good sushi but a little lackluster. There were no fun sauces or concoction but it served the purpose. Shortly after another platter arrived filled with a more North American deep fried chips and calamari. Note that this was before the menu appetizers even arrived.
Basho Appetizer Platter
There was a choice of apps that ranged from more sushi rolls to tempura vegetables to a unique surf and turf featuring steak, scallops and onion rings in a tower formation. It was the size of an entree and was ingeniously an odd version of classic land and sea. Both the meat and scallop were cooked to perfection. It was a really enjoyable starter…if you call it that.
Basho Surf and Turf
I was a little afraid of the entree after the monstrosity that was the appetizer. I was hoping for the halibut promised on the menu but I heard rumours that the shipment was diverted to another in a bidding war so they made a last minute substitution with cod. This dish was a bit of a mess in a Jackson Pollack sort of way. I think the halibut would have held up better among the other ingredients and things could have been a little more seasoned but it was a befitting offering in the end.
More Cod….
I was almost full to capacity but tasted each element of the dessert platter. There was chocolate and green tea ice cream which were ok but the stand out dessert was the cheesecake. It probably made the least sense in relation to the loose theme of the restaurant but was the best component hands down.
Basho Dessert Platter
The night ended with a late night screech-in ceremony at Christian’s (which didn’t involve a washed up child star, a bar altercation or a knife). For $20 you have the right to become an honorary Newfoundlander. I was a little fearful at first given the first thing I saw was a large man dressed in a slicker and carrying a paddle. My mind wandered to some sort of sadistic, seashore sodomy but when he started speaking, it turned out he was one of the best emcees ever (at least according to the locals who have seen a number of these ceremonies in the past). Essentially, participants have their names read aloud, eat bologna, kiss a cod, take a shot of screech, try and say “Deed I is, me ol’ cock! And long may yer big jib draw!”. Then you are presented with your certificate and quickly rush to wash the taste of screech, fish and bologna out of your mouth with copious amounts of beer.
Certificate of Screeching-In
On a final note, I got the airport and had some time to kill, so I went to the restaurant and finished off the trip with some questionable local blueberry wine while resisting the urge to order something off the glutin free menu. God, I love this place.
Glutin Free Menu
My Take
A busy second day in Newfoundland involved hiking, drinking, cod, cod and more cod. It started with a traditional fish and chips at one of the most established pubs in the city, continued with a oddish Asian-Newfoundland fusion meal and ended with making out with a fish. The phrase “Deed I is, me ol’ cock! And long may yer big jib draw” which translates to “Yes indeed, my friend, long may your big sail (i.e. jib) draw wind” makes total sense now. The combination of gale forces winds of the Newfoundland cliffs, my big sail (partially the result of too much deep fried cod), the island’s geographical similarity to my hometown of Sudbury and an honorary Newfie status makes this ol’ cock feel at home.
After a trip to the Vancouver aquarium as part of a team building activity (even though only three of us went), we went to look for a quick bite knowing the evening fare at the meeting would be less than appealing. It was an abnormally warm May day, so we wanted a patio,a drink and some decent food.
Coast is part of the Glowbal group conglomerate which owns a number of popular Vancouver restaurants. Having previously dined at Black + Blue and the Fish Shack with reasonable success, it sounds like a good idea, especially with the advertised cocktail menu and half price appetizers. After making the uphill trek to Alberni Street, we were able to secure a table on the front patio. The three of us were wearing casual team-building clothes (ie. yoga pants and shorts). We were hardly dressed for the occasion, especially in the midst of the attire of the waitstaff and numerous suits coming in but we were quickly comfortable in our outdoor seats.
Both my colleagues have what I consider excellent palates and both do not consume gluten. One of them has also never tried nigiri, so we took the opportunity to run an experiment with the small list on the menu. My thought was to hit her with the ebi thinking it would best to start her off with something cooked not to mention the fact that there was no guilt based on the fact we were just at the aquarium watching numerous other species splash around. The waitress, however, insisted that we opt for the unagi (since it was cooked) although I thought eel may not be the best way to initiate a novice sushi eater. The shrimp arrived without issue but the eel arrived coated in what appeared to be a brown sauce. Even as a gluten glutton, I have become aware that any brown sauce is an alarm bell, especially on a piece of sushi. It usually means soy sauce which means gluten. Keep in mind the menu clearly stated this item was gluten free but after deliberation by the waitstaff and kitchen slightly longer than the OJ Simpson verdict, we were told it in fact contained gluten. Big mistake. In the end, I ate the eel (which was decent but expensive) and I succeeded in introducing her to the world of nigiri albeit a tame piece of cooked shrimp.
Shrimp and Eel Nigiri ($3.95 and $5.30 respectively). Note the brown sauce…
I will give Coast credit for it’s buck a shuck special. I indulged in a half dozen oysters, portraying behaviour similar to that of a five year old opening a new set of lego. I become mesmerized by combining oyster flesh with pungent horseradish and some type of mignonette. In fact, I don’t think anything gives me as much enjoyment in the area of seafood relations since Mr. Tecklenberg showed me how to hypnotize a lobster when I was 8 or 9 at a table in his namesake Sudbury restaurant. I was so giddy I forgot the picture.
Each of us weren’t up for a whole lot of food (beside the after effect of seeing a whole lot of underwater life), but we each ordered a dish and did a family style sorta thing. First were the thai mussels (minus the bread). They were tasty but a rather dismal serving for $19. Maybe it would have come with 17 pieces of garlic bread which would have made it a bit more economical.
Thai Mussels (18.95 or about a buck each..I’d rather have the oysters)
Second was the grilled halibut. It made a lot of sense given the fact it was the season and there was not a hint of brown sauce anywhere on the plate. Instead, it was served with a decent potato salad. The fish was cooked nicely but it’s difficult to justify the $38 price tag.
Grilled Halibut ($37.95)
Finally, my choice was the apple chopped salad ($12.95) with the optional upgrade of two scallops for a whopping ten bucks. It arrived with a lone scallop and I made a note to see if it was reflected properly on the bill. I never had the chance. The salad itself was fresh, crisp and nicely balanced but when I cut open the scallop I looked at my colleagues and in my best Gordon Ramsey accent yelled “The f@*%ing scallop is raw”. In fact, it was a bit of a relief because paying 5 bucks for a scallop the size of a jawbreaker just wasn’t worth it. Perhaps the biggest annoyance of all was when the manager returned with the plate to confirm with me that, after careful deliberation with the chef, the scallop was in fact raw and they would gladly take it off the bill. I guess all those years of watching Hell’s kitchen finally paid off since it saved me the embarrassment of being corrected in front of my esteemed colleagues.
Apple Chopped Salad ($12.95) with a $5 scallop
The source of much deliberation….
My Take
Vancouver’s Glowbal group seems to be like olives, cilantro or goat cheese; you either love them or hate them. Some see the group as an innovative and eclectic collection of restaurants showcasing an incredible arrays of foods. Others see it as an overpriced series of misguided trends in which the decor is more important than the food. The inability to properly display gluten-free foods combined with minute mussels and an undercooked and underwhelming five dollar scallop (that included a second opinion on doneness) makes me lean toward the latter. This was just a bad experience with no effort made to fix it. Good thing there were crudites back at the meeting. I swear a carrot stick never tasted so good.
Bread is one of the most powerful foods on the planet. Each region of the world has taken this simple staple and has adapted it to reflect local taste, ingredients and artisan influence. There is spiritual meaning in this staple. Roman Catholics equate bread to the body of Jesus Christ. In the old testament, manna rained from the heavens during times of desert travel. Bread is the focal point of famous works of art throughout many centuries. In 1498, Leonardo Di Vinci finished the last supper which depicted the sharing of bread among Jesus and his apostles. Picasso’s “The Blind Man’s Meal” was a haunting painting featuring a small loaf of bread is characteristic of his blue period. One of the most famous pictures of the 20th century was “Grace” by American Eric Enstrom which simply shows a man saying grace in front of a loaf of bread.
The Blind Man’s Meal by Pablo Picasso-1903“Grace” by Eric Enstrom 1918
I think bread is the fashion of the food world. I grew up in a post-hippy financially constrained family. My clothes were like my bread….most times I ate Cecutti’s white bread while wearing leisure pants. I was content. It was a simple time. Grocery aisles weren’t lined with designer bread..choices were limited primarily to brown or white.Weekends were more exciting, which included a ride to Golden Grain bakery in Sudbury after church followed by a rush home so butter could be slathered on the loaf of Dark Rye while it was still warm.
One of my most vivid memories of high school was when my grade 13 teacher recited a poem called Revolution: The Vicious Circle by John Nist. He quietly sat and started muttering the word bread, repeating it over an over, raising his voice each time. By the fifth bread he was screaming like a lunatic and suddenly recited the word dead with the speed of a machine gun. After a brief pause he repeated the bread mantra again with the same deliberate crescendo, ending with a BREAD! that even woke up the dude in the back who slept through 80% of every class he ever sat in.
bread!
b r e a d !
B r e a d !
B r e a d !
B R E A D !
dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead.
dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead.
dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead.
dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead.
dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead - dead.
bread!
b r e a d !
B r e a d !
B r e a d !
B R E A D !
I can’t deny that bread, like anything else, is based on a supply and demand model. In our current age of entitlement and need for individualization, it’s not surprising that such a wide variety exists. Choices now range in the dozens but the irony is the vast majority of these are controlled by two companies; George Weston Limited Weston and Canada Bread (who is utlimately owned by Maple Leaf foods). Otherwise, the smaller bakeries are being swallowed up by others. Take for example, Guenther and Son, a Texas company who has recently acquired three Canadian bakeries including one which supplies baked goods to McDonald’s in Eastern Canada and the US Midwest.
Canada’s flawed food guide preaches that we as consumers should eat an abundant amount of baked goods but recommends whole grains to provide the necessary fibre and nutrients necessary for optimal health. Dempster’s for example (yep…owned by Canada Bread) among others have pounced on this by producing the Healthy Way line which includes the Double My Fibre!, Say No To Fat and Sugar! and Boost my Protein! (just a note..exclamation marks must mean it’s good). This whole line is nothing but a feel good means of fooling people into believing that they can rely on a quick and packaged means of providing the necessary nutrients necessary for optimal health. Each designer bread promises exactly what you need. They are surprisingly similar however. For example, Say no to Fat and Sugar! comes with the tagline “helps maintain a healthy body weight” although it has the same caloric content as Double my Fibre!. Boost my Protein! offers the same amount of protein as Double my Fibre! It’s smoke and mirrors..nothing more than disguising a similar product with an ingenious marketing program. Take the following clip for example.
First of all, James Brown must be rolling in his grave. Clearly, the rock ‘n roll icon is being copied as a second rate entertainer you would hire for a birthday party. Second, it’s unclear as to what anything in this entire scene has to do with bread other than the one or two second break the guy takes to gnaw into a sandwich in between his slick dance moves. And who the hell is Jason?
Speaking of James Brown, perhaps his death may have been avoided if Dempster’s Healthy Way with ProCardio recipe bread was available. Nothing speaks cardiovascular health like this ingredient list:
Water, whole grain whole wheat flour including the germ, oat bran, wheat gluten, sugar/glucose-fructose, inulin (chicory root), yeast*, oat fibre, sugar beet fibre, plums, vegetable oil (canola or soybean), vinegar, salt, acetylated tartaric acid esters of mono and diglycerides, calcium propionate, sodium stearoyl-2-lactylate, sorbic acid, trisodium citrate 2-hydrate, potassium chloride, magnesium carbonate, natural flavour. *order may change. May contain sesame seeds, soybean and sulphites. [L804].
Other than a slightly lower amount of sodium (110 mg vs 150-200 per slice) and a good whack of fibre , I see little to justify the bold claim made on their website: “The only bread uniquely designed for those looking to maintain healthy cholesterol and blood pressure levels and reduce the risk of heart disease”. I’m unaware of any data showing the positive effects of acetylated tartaric acid of mono and diglycerides on cardiovascular health. Some will attempt to link inulin to improvements in metabolic parameters but little data exists. In fact, any benefit from inulin seems to come from ultra-high doses and usually comes at the expense of diarrhea, bloating and other GI upset.
You are What you Eat.
As mentioned, bread is a staple in the diets of many. It is rooted in symbolism and has meaning beyond simple sustenance. Therefore, it makes sense to suggest that the type of bread one prefers says a lot about themselves as a person. Take the following for example.
Home Baker
Owns at least one apron with something like “World’s Greatest Baker” or “Better than Eggspected” written on it. Announces days in advance that they will make bread with the eggspectation that everybody will be in a fasting state come the day. In turn, they consume half the homemade loaf and justifying it by citing the caloric expenditure needed to kneed bread for seven minutes. Prone to criticize any bread that isn’t theirs, especially their rival down the road who uses, gasp!, a bread maker instead of good old-fashioned elbow grease.
White Bread
Afraid to take chances and probably still lives at home. Likely rejects health professionals and their misguided calls for healthier eating. Extremely stubborn..showers with soap instead of body wash, drives with a stick shift and probably likes bologna.
Whole Wheat
Tend to think this is the only diet change necessary to sustain optimal help. Enjoys one upping white bread eaters by ordering brown toast with their greasy breakfast followed by the comment “You eventually get used to it”. Parks as close to front door of restaurant as possible.
Ancient Grains
Always had a secret desire to live off the land but didn’t develop the skills to do so. Owns a Tilly hat. Also wanted to be on the archery team in high school. Likely watches Survivor, Siberia and Get Out Alive with Bear Grylls. Secretly tapes shows on OLN and about Mayan history.
Naan
If Caucasian, attributes consuming naan bread to a spiritual awakening resulting in the opening of the third eye chakra which further demonstrates their spiritual superiority over their friends and family. Shakes head at those who block their chakras by eating the European stuff.
Roti
Just like the Naan eater but one ups them by claiming a yeast intolerance in addition to the need for chakra cleansing.
Injera
Actively seeks and embraces new food trends to justify donning plastic rimmed glasses and vats of hair gel. Biggest enemy is the naan eater who is outdated by following a food trend that is so 2011. Uses wikipedia frequently to remind themselves why they eat injera and to learn at least one other kind of Ethiopian food. Opts for sandals over shoes.
Also appealing to running room enthusiasts who attribute their improved endurance to the consumption of the same carbohydrate as Ethiopian marathon runners. Specifically, they cite the super grain teff not realizing that ironically most injera in Canada is made with wheat, barley and rye, a stark contrast to their belief that wheat belly is the leading cause of sluggishness in North America (also see gluten free).
Bagels
Thinks that nutritional pundits who equate one bagel with four slices of bread are leaders of a government conspiracy. Rolls eyes at those who fail to match flavoured bagels with the appropriate cream cheese. Swears the best bagels are either in Montreal or New York even though they’ve never been to either city.
Vegetable Bread
Subscribe to Today’s Parent magazine and pat themselves on the back for fooling their children and/or spouse into eating healthy. May not eat this bread themselves since they like real vegetables but have empathy for those who don’t. Like crows, attracted to shiny things like orange bread and scantily clad yoga enthusiasts in television commercials.
Healthy Way- Double my Fibre!
Sees a good day as one that includes at least one bowel movement. Have convinced themselves that orange flavoured Metamucil tastes good. Hobbies include watching the Price is Right, reading Prevention magazine and rushing to the grocery store when toilet paper goes on sale.
Healthy Way- Boost my Protein!
Believes that no amount of protein a day is enough and likely washes it down with a whey shake. May lather with 2 tbsp of mayonnaise because they read somewhere that like protein, liberal consumption of fat at meals makes you feel full….and it’s healthy fat! Could possibly be seen wearing a bandana or a muscle shirt depicting some animal dressed as a human pumping heavy amounts of iron.
Healthy Way with ProCardio Recipe
Reluctant to take medications since they think all health professionals (except Dr. Oz) are in the pockets of big pharmaceutical companies and swear they can reduce their risk of heart disease by eating bread, listening to Cat Stevens and walking their dog Muffy. They smell like garlic, drink 14 cups of green tea a day and take melatonin so they can sleep at night.
Thin Slice
Also buy 100 calorie portion controlled chips, chocolate bars and soft drinks. Reads the less than 600 calorie menu at restaurant but opts for the burger promising to return to lean cuisines tomorrow. Watches “The Biggest Loser” while eating frozen yogurt instead of ice cream and thinks Jillian Michaels is an inhabitant of the planet “Awesome”.
Thick Slice/Texas toast
Laughs at any joke or statement containing the words “it’s not the length, it’s the width that matters” or “Everything is bigger in Texas”. Thinks breakfasts with two eggs and Hondas are for sissies. Likely has a tattoo paying homage to either their country or mother. Drives a domestic car or pickup with a bumper sticker which says “If you can’t stand behind our troops, feel free to stand in front of them”, ” Still have a job? Keep buying Foreign” or “If you can read this, you’re too f@#*ing close”. Either that or they really like french toast.
Stays Fresh Bread
Takes 3 weeks to eat a loaf of bread. Otherwise, likely has built an underground shelter with the belief that Armageddon is imminent and that the only survivors will be themselves, cockroaches and their loaf of Dempster’s Stay Fresh white bread. Not concerned with the fact this bread has less nutritional value than a bag of sugar.
Gluten Free
Insists that gluten free bread is delicious even though it isn’t. Uses lines like “Man, I think the sorghum to millet ratio in this bread is fabulous..well worth the $14.50” and then insist they don’t even miss the real thing. Repeats the same behavior with brownies, cake, wraps, muffins, cupcakes, bagels, tarts, squares, pasta, cereal and pancake mix. Those around them smile and nod and binge on anything with gluten at their first opportunity, complete with some sort of lactose and/or caffeine containing beverage.
My Take
The once sacred art of making bread has been replaced with the mass production of designer brands with more substance on the package than in the loaf itself. Gone are the days where a table would share a loaf equally among all. If Di Vinci painted the last supper today I wonder if there would be an array of bread to satisfy each palate. Maybe before betraying Jesus, Judas Iscariot would prefer Texas toast while Bartholemew would opt for gluten free. In the end, through devious marketing campaigns, celebrity endorsements and misleading product claims, consumers are left confused when they stroll down the bakery aisle at the local grocery store. This spiritual staple, like other foods, has been bastardized by corporate juggernauts who disguise the bottom line as a commitment to improving the health of consumers everywhere.
When I was looking for a place to grab some breakfast, I came across the Bickford Flexitarian, a relatively new cafe on Harbord St. When I heard the name, it reminded me of a classic novel synonymous with Wuthering Heights by Charlotte Bronte or Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence.
The Bickford Flexitarian
A Fare..Eat..Ale about Flax Seed and Forgiveness
It was a sweltering summer day. Two figures emerged from a vehicle amongst the modest laden cyclists who painted the roads. The contrasting ideologies of the two made choosing a venue difficult. Although both shared an affinity for fine fare, a conflict emerged. He was a portly porkivore; she a gluten intolerant pescatarian. They shared a very similar yet different passion for food. Rumours of the Bickford Flexitarian had filled the air and these pilgrims were on a maiden journey to this haven in which communal eating could occur regardless of where they choose to eat on the food chain.
As they approached the air seemed barren. There was a eerie stillness which bled into the uneven sidewalks. The pit in their stomachs grew as they walked toward the inevitable. The doors were locked, the counters were bare. No warning was provided; both the website and facebook betrayed them. After the tedious journey through traffic and the descent toward their destination, the harvest was nil. He clenched his hands in frustration as they turned in unison and returned alone the same trail they had just carved. He was scorned and promised himself that some retribution would occur. Perhaps an ill-tempered tweet or a cantankerous comment to those who would listen would remedy his angst.
A handful of fortnights later he was on a solo mission in the vicinity of the Bickford. A whisper of distain returned as the memories filled his head. Once again, cyclists were weaving and ringing their bells along the Harbord St paths in efforts to alert irate drivers and unaware squirrels to their presence. With a renewed swagger, he proceeded to the front door to find it ajar. The Bickford was open.
As promised, the list of fare was diverse, ranging from raw and vegan to blackened chicken omelettes. The proprietor was a pleasant lass. Perhaps out of an increased curiosity for the raw food movement or perhaps out of homage to his missing partner, he inquired about the walnut banana “french toast.” Without pretension, she beamed that the toast was the creation of her own hands but subtly questioned his commitment, likely the result of his phenotype which suggested a probable affinity for all things ham. He assured her he was of sound mind and that he wasn’t nuts; he just wanted to eat them, along with an Americano of course.
As he was waiting he confessed his frustration over his previous fruitless endeavour. He was told the Bickford was closed on Tuesdays during the summer months, a practice which was common among many establishments. Her pleasant demeanor filled his heart and he had an instant need to forgive the oversight.
The delivery of the goods was prompt. As promised, it was a bit of an adventure off the beaten path. The “toast” itself was dense and full of earthy flavours. The cashew cream made butter seem like an ex-girlfriend and the date syrup was sultry to the tongue. The walnuts, blueberries and pollyanna fruit cup were perfect accessories. He deemed the Americano delicious as well. It was true, he somewhat longed for some salty swine to complete the dish but there was solace in the fact that he was able to adhere to the philosophy of his missing travel mate and the other tree hugging cyclists he carefully avoided on his way into the Bickford to begin with.
Walnut Banana ‘French Toast’ $10.50
As he ate, other patrons ventured inside with many interested in the baked goods which lined the shelves. In particular the gluten free muffins seemed to be a hit. Since he had a work rendezvous with this travel mate the next day, he asked the lass to hold one for him. She gladly complied and wrapped it for the pending trip. Upon his departure he produced his means of payment only to be told to put it away and accept the muffin as an apology for the previous confusion.
He ventured back to his vehicle with a new found admiration for the Bickford Flexitarian. True, all it took was a muffin but it was more than that. It was about respect, acknowledgment and remedy.
By the way, she enjoyed the muffin.
My Take
The Bickford Flexitarian has plunged into the competitive cafe/coffee shop market. Although located a bit off the beaten path, there is plenty of bike traffic as well as those who take Harbord to avoid the clogged arteries of College or Bloor streets. Speaking of clogged arteries, Bickford offers hearty breakfasts that spare the heart and are more creative than the glass enclosed baked goods a lot of the others offer. They also realize that serving healthy food doesn’t need to come with a side of self-righteousness.
The story of Bickford Flexitarian is one of betrayal and forgiveness which, unlike a story such as Jane Eyre, has a happy ending. Ok…that’s a bit much but I often longed to spend my days drinking coffee and writing about my interpretation of the state of society. The irony is it took the consumption of a raw walnut banana flax bread for me to do so.
Fare..Eat..Ales 