hipster – Fare..Eat..Ales

New Orleans Day 3: Beignets, Trolling in Area 3 and a Graham Elliot Doppelganger

September 10, 2016 spennyrdLeave a comment

My commitment to three square meals continued on day three in New Orleans; that is if you are willing to accept the fact that a beignet and a cafe au lait is breakfast. Instead of hitting the Cafe Du Monde’s original location, I opted for one close to the convention centre. It’s hard to argue that dough deep fried in cottonseed oil and covered in powdered sugar can be a bad thing and I was neither let down or really surprised. I was, however, more intrigued by the coffee. Historically, chicory was added to coffee by the French during their civil war to preserve rations and that tradition continued from Acadians right through the Louisiana settlers. The intense bitterness of this plant from the Dandelion family is likely part of the reason the cafe au lait is preferred to straight up black. That said, I picked up a can and drink it black but it’s certainly a sipping coffee more than one you would down like a shooter during the morning rush.

beighnets-cafe-du-monde — Cafe Du Monde Beignets $5

Lunch was at Peche, which won the 2014 James Beard award for best new restaurant in the US and is part of the Donald Link empire. This seafood-focused eatery is conveniently located a few minutes from the convention centre so it was relatively safe even among the pop-up thunder storms which seem to blast through the Big Easy at any random moment throughout the work day.

Living in southern Ontario, my access to fresh oysters is few and far between and when I can get them, they are usually overpriced Malpeques so I was delighted at the chance to pound back a dozen gems from gulf coast for a buck or two each. On this day the features included Louisiana Area 3 (shellfish harvest area are given a number which stop at 28 and luckily do not go up to 51). Area 3 is the easternmost harvest area. The others were from Alabama, specifically Dauphin island. Let’s just say if I lived here I would have absolutely no chance of pernicious anemia, would have frank hypercalcemia and I could probably play Robert Downey Jr.’s iron man double.

peche-oysters — Area 3 and Dauphin Island Oysters (much cheaper than land-locked Ontario)

Looking back, I think I told myself I would order anything with the word Louisiana in it. In this case it was the Louisiana shrimp roll which seemed a suitable lunch choice. Much like it’s Canadian cousin, it features a soft bun stuffed with mayo drenched seafood. It was the prefect lunch choice….good size, good taste and good value. For dessert I couldn’t resist the strawberry custard which was a trendy version of the no-bake old school strawberry cheesecake my mom used to make.

Louisiana Shrimp Roll $14

Strawberry Custard $9

Although I didn’t have the full booze laden dinner experience, lunch gave me a flavour of the food and vibe of this accolade filled eatery which was impressive. The service was prompt and courteous but pleasantly pompous.

After a number of modernized New Orleans meals so far, it was time to go old school and visit Brennan’s for dinner. This well established destination has a long history in the big easy. What’s not to like about it:it’s been around since 1946, it’s cheesy and they use words like old-world elegance and pampering service in their description on the website. Plus, their chef’s, Slade Rushing, has a name that sounds like he should be designated chef for the Sons of Anarchy. After a sazarac in the roost bar, I rewound the clock and had a seat in the tacky rounded booth in one of the many dining rooms.

I was pleased to be greeted by a waiter who looked like Michelin star chef Graham Elliot. He was quick and courteous and knowledgeable;another reminder that there still is good and traditional service in the world. He was pleased to discuss the many aspects of the menu including the specials which included steak Diane. I quickly checked my phone to ensure I hadn’t stumbled upon a wormhole which transported me back to the mid 20th century when tableside flambees were all the rage. Despite the date confusion, my mind was made up..I was dining on American nostalgia tonight and it was gonna be good.

I was at a large table so collectively there was good opportunity to get feedback on a number of menu items. Appetizers ordered included the Jackson salad, turtle soup and chilled fois gras. I opted for another bite of history…crab remoulade modernized with shaved jicama, avocado and a mango vinaigrette. It was a smart and fresh summer starter. I had a spoonful of the turtle soup as well which was bursting with great flavours but I pondered how anybody could eat it regularly in the midst of regular tropical temperatures.

Crab Remoulade

Fois Gras

Turtle Soup

As I mentioned, the steak Diane was automatic. The other choices at the table included the filet Stanley, grouper and lamb. We also had a vegetarian at the table who was offered the chef’s special which more or less ended up being a plateful of sauteed vegetables. Back to my dish; Graham cooked up the steak filet like a pro and entertained us with Louisiana banter the whole time. It was served with potato medallions and a few carrots…brilliant. The time machine was still working. It was exactly what I expected… a pan seared piece of steak covered in salty juices. The feedback from the rest of the table on the entrees was positive…even the vegetarian seemed satisfied…but that may have been a side effect from the protein deficiency.

Filet Stanley (Part of $55 taster)

Flounder $31

Steak Diane ($40)

Lamb $38

Chef’s Choice Vegetarian Dish

Going to Brennan’s and not ordering Bananas Foster would be like going to McDonald’s and never trying a Big Mac. This labour intensive dessert’s origins lie within Brennan’s seventy year history. According to Brennan’s website (which annoying has the heading Banana’s Foster…the misuse of apostrophes is a real pet peeve of mine) It was created in 1951 after the chef Paul Blangé was challenged to come up with a dessert using surplus banana’s from a family business. As mentioned, table side cooking was all the rage so the bananas foster was born. I’m a true believer that nostalgia tastes incredible so I wasn’t disappointed. There were a smorgasbord of other desserts which arrived as well including a bread pudding, chocolate pave, creme brulee and crepe Fitzgerald (also prepared tableside). The savory palate at the table opted for the cheese tray which was nicely presented with a trio of offerings.

Crepe Fitzgerald

Cheese Tray $9

Creme Brulee $9

Chocolate Pave $9

Legendary Bananas Foster $10/person

Bread Pudding $9

Brennan’s is a retro oasis in a culinary scene driven by an industrial revolution driven by hipster foodies who dismiss table side cuisine but drink Manhattans because they saw it on Mad Men. This eatery doesn’t budge on bow ties, lavish decor, crafty cocktails and insisting waitstaff earn their gratuities. The food is unapologetically New Orleans with the odd twist here and there. In the end, like a handful of other eateries in the Big Easy; one can rewind the clock and dine like a mid-century aristocrat for a couple of hours and if luck is in the air, you might actually have a masterchef flambeing fare table side.

Detroit:Where you can Stop and Smell the Flowers and the Stables are Always Greener

March 19, 2016March 19, 2016 spennyrdLeave a comment

I took a March break trip with my daughter and was excited to see that the timing was right allowing me visit the pop-up called Flowers of Vietnam which opens every Sunday night in the Vernor Coney Island location in Southwest Detroit. Starting at 630 pm, after the restaurant closes, the diner is transformed into a makeshift Asian eatery with tables complete with jars of hoison, garlic chili and fish sauce beside a bottle of sriracha, a lantern and a jar of utensils.

I got there around 8 pm and the place was buzzing. We were seated at a communal table with a quiet couple as a trio of DJs (one who looked like Ashton Kutcher with a porn stash) bobbed their heads up and down to some sort of hip-hop my daughter understood much more than I did. Our waitress reminded me of the authenticity of Detroit. Hipsters in this city are naturals; an appropriate mix of angst and oddness that other cities only try and mimic with whatever recipe they read in “Hipsters for Dummies”. She called me darling while at the same time leaving me with my bill to head outside and chain smoke in the rain.

The booze free joint (in fact I think water is your only option) features a small menu with traditional Vietnamese dishes ranging from pho to a fresh mango salad to fried fish as well as a few spins on snack food like caramel chicken wings.

Let’s start with the salad. The fruit and vegetables were fresh and crisp and I appreciated the ability to use my discretion and add the amount of nuoc mam I wanted and mix the salad myself. The liberal use of fresh herbs added to both authenticity and flavour of this excellent starter.

flowers salad — Goi Ngo Sen Tom Thjt Salad $14

The noodle bowl,although good, had a flavour profile almost exactly the same as the salad. That said, the pork was beautifully seasoned and I hoped for a little more of it. It has the same nuoc mam sauce which they should bottle and sell on the way out. The spring roll hidden within the bowl of noodles and vegetables was a gem and I almost wished I could get an order of them on their own.

The wings were fried and coated with a sweet caramel sauce (not abnormal in Vietnamese cuisine). I’m not normally a fan of sweet wing sauces or wings served whole, but there was something about tearing them apart on the side of the Vernor highway while listening to Kelso spin vinyl that was the perfect package. The sauce, when combined with accompanying herbal condiment created a new flavour which I will certainly crave on occasion moving forward.

flowers wings — Caramel Chicken Wings $14

I’m not normally big on Asian desserts but was intrigued by the trio offered at FoV. In the end, I opted for the Ca Phe Trung and the Yum Yums B cua Rob. The first was a twist on a Vietnamese coffee which I was hoping had a bit more of the condensed milk (which I consider nectar of the gods) taste than it did. The second was a dessert which looked like it could be served at a number of fancy places with candles and white table clothes. The plate as a whole contained a number of South Asian flavours which were great individually but lacked a bit of a togetherness. The sesame crisps were surreal.

flowers dessert — Yum Yums B cua Rob $8 and Ca Phe Trung $6

Green Dot Stables needs no introduction to any Detroiter. This iconic eatery is on every “Things to do in the D” list and has been visited by an entourage of the rich and famous. As with Flowers of Vietnam, it is quintessential Detroit. It’s always busy, non-apologetic, economical (no food on the menu is more that $3) and filled with a mosaic of patrons that reminds you that there is a fantastic diversity in America’s most misunderstood city.

I’ve been a few times and my favorite sliders are the Korean (peanut butter and kimchi) and the Hot Brown (chicken, mornay and bacon). Any of the sides, whether it’s the cucumber, kale, fries or mac and cheese are all well worth a couple of bucks. The booze is dirt cheap and they carry a small but nice array of craft beer in bottles and on tap.

Mac and Cheese $3

Korean $3 and Cheeseburger $2

My Take

It’s no coincidence that Anthony Bourdain ended Season 2 of Parts Unknown with a visit to Detroit. People look at me funny when I suggest that Detroit is among the top 10 dining destinations in the U.S but hear me out. First, people don’t pretend to be cool in Detroit. Unlike other cities, their “hipsters” are authentic and not the ridiculous rip-offs that exist in every other city. This makes for a unique and real experience as opposed to feeling like you’re an extra in the Broadway version of “Angst”. Second, there is a good diversity of cuisine in the D. The two restaurants featured in this blog are a testament to this. Separated by the I-75, one is a brand new Vietnamese pop-up while the other is a well-established iconic eatery which is as recognized as Vernor’s ginger ale or McClure’s pickles and there are many along the spectrum in between. Dearborn serves some of the best middle eastern food in North America. Ferndale is a breakfast haven. The Eastern market has everything from killer pizza to fantastic BBQ and entertainment at Bert’s. Even if you want fine dining, you have a plethora of choice including TV celebrity chef Michael Symon’s Roast or Joe Muer’s seafood haven. Third, the restaurant scene is economical. As a rust belt city, Detroit has not lost it’s appreciation of value. You can still get a $1.50 Coney dog at many places in town. Mexicantown almost gives away authentic and delicious food.

In the end, I never just drive through Detroit to get to my destination…I stop every time. It is the perfect place to stop to get everything from a taco to a shawarma. You can go to Slow’s BBQ for some ribs or grab a pint of one of the many craft brewhouses that have opened in recent months. Both the patrons and the staff of the city’s eateries are fun, authentic and refreshing so I encourage you to go and smell the flowers and see for yourself that the stables are in fact greener on the other side (of the Detroit river that is).

Bar Fancy: Bohemian Burlesque Beyond What Alanis Morrisette Says

January 1, 2016 spennyrdLeave a comment

I still remember the backlash from the community when Alanis Morrisette continuously misused the word ironic on the hit song with the same name of the “Jagged Little Pill” album. They argued that things like rain on your wedding day and a fly in your chardonnay are not ironic but in fact nothing more than shit luck. Bar Fancy, on the other hand, is a basic example of irony. Everything about the place fits the blueprint…I mean, the bar is far from fancy. In fact, it’s a bit of a visual atrocity; a mix between a garage and a bachelor apartment. I would take it a step further and argue that what this Queen West eatery does is beyond irony and actually is more burlesque. Often associated with extravagant and over the top entertainment antics in movies like Moulin Rouge!, the word burlesque encompasses general exaggeration and ridicule. Bar Fancy has a stupid website that has no copies of the menu and gives you nothing more than an address, hours and a picture of a neon tiger which shows you the way to the semi-hidden entrance. Once inside, they have a potluck menu (along with the token extra-large and stupid expensive steak) hand written on a sheet of paper.

I arrived for happy hour and sat at the kitchen rail with a good view of the kitchen. A couple of hipster guys were behind the counter, dressed in no way like executive chefs, waiting to prepare menu items to order. The beer and wine menu is intentionally small. I asked for a cocktail list and was told they really didn’t have one but all the classics were available. I asked for a recommendation and a black manhattan came my way.

Although not the largest happy hour menu, I’ve concluded that half price oysters and $2 a piece fried chicken are a good way to spend the pre-dinner hours. The chicken met all the criteria of a good bite. While I was there, I watched the kitchen with great interest. Each dish was meticulously prepared from scratch by plaid dressed peons with decent knife skills and obvious culinary comprehension.

My Take

I remember doing a project in university where I had to interview a restaurant whose ironic tag line was “warm beer.lousy food”. Since then, the use of irony has evolved in the food industry. Hipsters bars have embraced irony and have raised the bar by making things burlesque by exaggerating all the elements of the experience beyond just a simple catch line.

Bar Fancy is an example of a bohemian burlesque. You feel you are at a house party in somebody’s bachelor apartment. Hipsters prepare potluck foods while offering you a small array of beer and wine. They have no cocktail menu but can whip up any of the classics upon request. Fancy additions like egg whites and lavender shrubs are absent.

Although I’m generally adverse to the silliness of the concepts around hipster havens, I like Bar Fancy. During happy hour, I can grab an old-fashioned, half a dozen oysters and a couple of pieces of chicken for under $30. I love the lack of a complex cocktail list and appreciate the simple concept around their casual, made to order menu. I’ll have to give it a shot late at night even if it’s after a free ride when I’ve already paid.

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

November 17, 2015November 17, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

Mason Jar (Pickled Veg with Fois Gras Mousse)

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

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

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

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

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

My Take

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

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

What if Jeff Foxworthy was a Hipster instead of a Redneck?

September 13, 2015September 14, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I went to school at the University of Guelph which meant I got to know a lot of agriculture students, many of which are self-proclaimed rednecks. I also grew up in Sudbury. As a result, I could relate when Jeff Foxworthy burst onto the scene in the early nineties with his signature “You Might Be a Redneck” franchise. To this date, I still laugh at them. The latest one I heard was “If you have just been interviewed about the tornado for the fifth time…you might be a redneck.” I appreciate his humour in the sense that, like Jerry Seinfeld, he can make fun of the boring antics of Caucasians through astute observation.

This got me thinking what would happen if Jeff were a hipster. I think he would have a field day with the antics of this outrageous urban subculture. There are definite differences between rednecks and hipsters. For example, ask both what PBR means and one would reference professional bull riding while the other would ask for a beer. I’m not pretending for a second that I’m some hilarious comedian but I do eat out a lot and have been immersed in this culture long enough to make some general observations. So here is my attempt at “you might be a hipster”:

If you read your tattoos to kill time on the subway…you might be a hipster.
If your wardrobe is less diverse than Fred Flintstone’s…you might be a hipster.
If at least one of your T-shirts has a picture of Fred Flintstone…you might be a hipster.
If your happy hour starts at 10 pm…you might be a hipster.
If your pre-set iPhone alarm contains nothing with the letters “am” in it…you might be a hipster.
If your meaning of gelling with someone is comparing the product in your slick backs…you might be a hipster.
If your primarily using your Bachelor of Arts to sculpt your mustache…you might be a hipster.
If you live above where you eat…you might be a hipster.
If you know the difference between crudo and carpaccio but not the difference between walk and don’t walk…you might be a hipster.
If you can identify Nicaragua, Columbia and Kenya in a cup but not on a map…you might be a hipster.
If you have “ubered” yourself for a ride home…you might be a hipster.
If your definition of a car payment is $10 to a food truck…you might be a hipster.
If you wait longer for a taco than you do a medical procedure…you might be a hipster.
If you think “gimmie the skinny” means taking off your tie…you might be a hipster.
If you need to register your beard with animal control on an annual basis…you might be a hipster.

I have no plans to quit my job and join the Plaid Collar Tour anytime soon but hey…it helps ease the pain.

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

September 12, 2015September 13, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

Hong Kong Waffle with Banana and Froot Loop Ice Cream

My Take

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

Everything I Know About Hipsters I Learned from Watching the Walking Dead

June 13, 2015June 13, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I have recently jumped on the Walking Dead bandwagon. For the past month or so I have religiously hooked up Netflix and plowed through episode after episode, taking periodic breaks to sulk whenever a major character gets killed off. The show has taught me a few things. First, it convinced me that in the midst of a zombie apocalypse humanity would not unify to preserve its existence. Instead, the balance of power would become crucial and opposing human survivors with a functional capacity greater than that of a newborn would be more of a threat than a drooling pack of the undead. Second, the more I watched the show the more it made me understand hipsters. I have struggled with the concept for a number of years but watching the show has brought a much needed clarity that allows me to comprehend and somewhat accept, if not empathize with, the hipster lifestyle.

Both zombies and hipsters travel in packs

Zombies wander aimlessly through forests and streets with one purpose; to eat. Hipsters travel for the same reason. They walk urban streets like amoeba through a digestive tract, weaving around sidewalks and down alleyways in search of sustenance . In doing so, they remain rather unaware of their surroundings which in some cases includes moving motor vehicles, puppies and non-hipsters. The latter can take advantage of this phemonemon by setting hipster traps. Whereas a zombie can easily be corralled using a large pit or a wall of sharpened sticks, the hipster can either be distracted by noise (see below) or other strategies. For example, having a member of your party slow down in front the oblivious pack allows your friends to rush to the door of the destination and scoop the last table well before the hipsters can get there. Such a strategy was employed by some of my family members outside of Beast in Toronto during brunch and it worked like a charm.

Both zombies and hipsters are attracted to noise

Anybody who watches the show knows that zombies are attracted to noise. Packs of them have been known to veer completely in the other direction with anything from the clinking of pots, the rattling of a fence or jumping up and down repeatedly and screaming “over here!” The same rings true of the hipster. Although the noise does not need to be of an auditory nature, it needs to satisfy the impulsive nature of the hipster and may include things like a semi-lit neon sign, a sandwich board advertising a happy hour or the promise of a 45 minute wait in order to eat a beef cheek taco.

An example of a hipster distraction tool

Skin blemishes are key characteristics of both zombies and hipsters

Skin blemishes are a key identifier of both groups. The presence of decay and discolouration, usually the result of partial death and the lack of SPF 30, is a sure fire way to pick out a zombie. For a hipster, look for colourful sleeve tattoos, quotations or foreign language mantras peppered somewhere on the surface area of the skin. This is not to say that these blemishes can’t become a clandestine feature of either group. A good makeup job, some body spray and a little human love was enough to disguise a zombie in the motion picture “Warm Bodies” while a donning long sleeved plaid shirt nicely hides the floral arrangements and depictions of exotic woman on the forearm of a hipster. Unfortunately, all the Drakkar Noir and Abercrombie and Fitch in the world can’t camouflage the obnoxious behavior exhibited by each which means an astute observer can easily see through the façade.

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts

Although each zombie in a pack is a unique individual, little regard is given to that individuality of the zombie by outside observers. They all have distant looks on their faces. People tend not to discern between the old and young, male and female or still human like versus quite decayed. A zombie is a zombie. Hipsters are much the same. They all have looks of angst on their face. Externals do not differentiate hipsters based on the size of their ear spacers, their sleeve tattoos, what side of their head their hair is parted on or the colour of plaid shirt they are wearing. A hipster is a hipster. To be fair, there is a subtle difference between the two groups in this regard. Zombies don’t KNOW they are zombies and hipsters don’t THINK they are hipsters.

Both zombies and hipsters relish the “nose to tail” concept

Although they do it for different reasons, both zombies and hipsters adopt a nose to tail philosophy when it comes to eating. Zombies are not particularly fussy in regarding their diet and will consume anything they can get their hands on. The hipster is slightly more discerning but will often include foodstuffs such as jowls, liver pates, animal glands and heart tartare. I suppose the difference is that a zombie takes little pride in consuming an entire organism while the hipster will tweet, facebook, yelp, zomato snapchat, Instagram or tumble such milestones not to mention the likelihood of a “Keep Calm and Eat Sweetbreads” shirt surfacing somewhere in their wardrobe.

Both zombies and hipsters are primarily nocturnal

The walking dead zombies are a bit atypical from those depicted in other television shows and movies in that they are not overly adverse to light. That, said, one can argue that they prefer the evening hours for feeding. This is true of the hipster. Feeding hours usually begin after dusk and will proceed until the wee hours of the morning. This is not to suggest that hipsters, like zombies, are adverse to eating during the day. There is a ritual in which hipsters do hunt and feast outside of the dusk to dawn hours…it’s called brunch.

You don’t mind watching them from a distance but you sure as hell don’t want to be there.

While watching a walking dead marathon, it quickly comes apparent that there is no rest for the human characters. Just when you think Rick and the gang are safe, a hole in the fence or an evil human henchman foils the plan for long term safety, forcing the protagonists to flee and the cycle continues. I sit there watching, grateful that I don’t have to spend my life, like an antelope, looking over my shoulder wondering if I’m about to get eaten. It is extremely uncomfortable but I can’t get enough. I have the same feeling when I see a pack of hipsters. There are fun to watch from a distance, but the thought of actually being involved in the dynamic is as frightening as an encounter with a walker. Sure the smell of hair gel and musky cologne may be slightly better than that of decaying flesh, but the same lack of personal space and relentless monotony of behavior would simply be unbearable for any extended period of time, let alone 5 seasons.

You can get rid of them by messing with their brains

Any object inserted in the right part of a zombie’s head is enough to curtail any immediate threat . Swords, shovels, sticks and arrows are all effective tools in this regard. For a hipster, the use of such weapons would be illegal and unnecessarily cruel. Instead, aiming your assault at their mental acuity is much acceptable. Engaging in general trivia including references to key historical events or geography outside the hipster universe (such as areas in Ontario outside Parkdale) works nicely. Also, referring to the evening hours in military time (ie. Hey, it’s 2100 hours..don’t you think you should go home now?) or listing menu items that include cents (ie $17.00 vs 17) may be enough to clear a room of hipsters with relative ease.

I think we are in the midst of a hipster apocalypse. Although I wish Max Brooks would release a hipster version as a sequel to his best selling “ The Zombie Survival Guide” , I think the walking dead has taught me enough about hipsters so that, if was cornered in a room with the last crawfish beignet on earth, I could survive the onslaught and live to see another industrial night.

How to survive a zombie apocolypse...a good disguise! — How to survive a zombie apocolypse…a good disguise!

Pai, Pai, Toronto’s Northern Thai…I ordered Farang Spicy Heat and I Didn’t Cry

May 24, 2015August 14, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

A short, short time ago
I can still remember how good thai used to make me smile
And I knew if I gave pai a chance
That I could make my tastebuds dance
And maybe I’d be happy for a while

The waitstaff made me shiver
With every dish that they’d deliver
After all the food they schlepped
I couldn’t take one more step

I sure remember all I tried
Whether it was a main or a side,
It seemed the yelp ratings didn’t lie
The day I went to Pai.

Pai, Pai, Toronto’s Northern Thai
Drove my Jetta to find parking but the rates were so high
And them good ole boys were serving two beers that were Thai
The pogues sung Singha beer don’t tell no lies,
That Singha beer don’t tell no lies.

Let me tell you what I did love
The level of spice mentioned above
And the menu told me so!
Now do you believe in good spring rolls?
With a dipping sauce served in a small bowl.
And with a heat that tends to kick in real slow?

Well, I know I’m in love with Tom Yum
Specially when it makes your tongue numb.
The flavours really fused
Man, I dig those good soups and stews

There’s a green curry filled with lots of stuff,
And it’s cleverly served in a coconut
All for the price of 16 bucks
The signature dish of Pai

Now for eighteen bucks you can own
A shrimp platter that I can’t condone.
The caesar’s not how I thought i’d be
It was mucky as opposed to light and clean
And the shrimp was rather plain cuisine
although others may disagree

And while the Caesar was going down
I ordered Thai’s culinary crown
It was pad thai I yearned
a good verdict was returned

With flavours complex instead of stark
The sausage really hit the mark
With sauce that deserves good remarks
The day I went to Pai

Sai Ua Platter (think I missed the actual sausages) $14

My Take

For the most part authentic Thai food in Toronto has been served in places decorated with elephants and Buddha statues but Pai has introduced the concept of serving this popular fare in a Duncan street rabbit hole designed for basement dwelling hipsters. It is small, crowded and hectic. The service was efficient but a little scattered and inconsistent at times. They do take bookenda reservations, however, so planning ahead ultimately avoids a lot of headaches. The food lives up to the hype by offering authentic recognizable dishes such as pad thai, tom yum soup and spring rolls as well as other favourites such as green curry and Thai sausage. The rolls (with the kicking dipping sauce), soup and noodles deserve honorable mention but the curry, in particular, was among one of the best I have had. Maybe it was the cute coconut as a vessel but the consummate flavours and tender beef made it the premier dish of the evening. The accompanying sauces such as the Thai relish served with the sausage were delicious. The Thai caesar platter, although an interesting and exciting concept, was disappointing mainly due to the lackluster Caeser mix and boring shrimp sauce. I loved the option of farang (foreigner) spicy which added a great bite while respecting the other flavours such as kaffir lime leaf and lemongrass. Price wise, it’s definitely more expensive than Salad King or most hole in the walls but very much in line with other hipster destinations offering noise and chaos as menu options.

They were serving Thai, Thai, at Toronto’s Pai

I liked the food and bevies and my standards were high
Them good ole rolls and curries were worth the buy
So I’d suggest that you give this place a try.

Bareburger: A Haven for Hipbillys and Hippysters Alike

May 18, 2015May 18, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

There was a degree of fanfare with the opening of Bareburger, the small New York based chain which offers organic and healthier options to the slew of greasy options which fill the streets of every town and city in North America. One of those cities is now Toronto, more specifically the intersection of Bay and Dundas.

The theme is hipster meets hippy meets hillbilly. The hipster is the fact that there are usually line-ups at mealtimes and the staff is a mix of lumbersexuals, plastic spectacle wearing stylists and guys with man buns as big as those on the burgers. The hippy is the zen focus on clean eating such as vegetarian and vegan burgers, organic pasture-raised, no hormone meats, non-GMO/pesticide free produce and fair trade purchasing practices to appease the moral consciousness of the anti-capitalists. The hillbilly comes from unique meat choices including duck, wild boar, bison and elk along with the use of recycled barns and wood for the roof and floor respectively no to mention the bear heads (although not real) hanging on the wall.

The drink list offers a select list of microbrews, wines and spirits but what be more unique are the non-alcoholic drinks such as homemade unsweetened ice teas and 10 different sodas including a traditional cola and not so traditional blueberry . I was on the clock so I opted for the white peach ice tea ($3.25) served a glass which looked like a billboard for clean eating. It was quite refreshing.

I started with a jar of spicy pickles which is supposedly a 100 year old family recipe. They had great spice and flavour and were served in the quintessential hillbilly/hispter glassware…the mason jar.

The burgers are the main event but Bareburgers offers other sandwiches and salads as well. You have the choice of building your own or trusting the chefs who have devised 14 different choices using a variety of meat, buns and toppings. I opted for the blue elk ($13.65) which was elk topped with elk, amish blue, back bacon, stout onions and tomato fig jam all served on a sprout bun. The meat was cooked perfectly but the taste was hidden a little by the intense flavour of the jam and the bun. All in all, it was a good burger and clearly unique from most of the others in the area and despite the richness of some of the ingredients, didn’t leave that gross feeling in my stomach despite the side of fries and onion rings ($5.70) which I split with my table mate who also ordered the buttermilk buffalo ($10.90). It was buffalo fried chicken, amish blue, buttermilk ranch, green leaf and a brioche bun. I snuck a piece and was thoroughly impressed.The sauce was not your typical frank’s red. It was much deeper in flavour. The chicken itself was moist and delicious and complemented well with the cheese and sauce. The fries were quite good and the rings were among some of the best I’ve had; crispy and well seasoned versus greasy and salty. Special mention goes to the Sir Kensington’s ketchup available at the table which was much fresher than the Heinz which typically graces the tables of every other burger joint in town.

Blue Elk Burger ($13.85) and Spicy Pickles ($3.85) — Blue Elk Burger ($13.65) and Spicy Pickles ($3.85)

Buttermilk Buffalo ($10.90) and Side Fries/Rings ($5.70)

My Take

What do you call a hillybilly, hipster and hippy all in one? A hillster? Hipbilly? Hiphilly? Hippyster? Regardless, Bareburger would make any combination of the three feel at home. The rustic decor, organic meat choices and man buns would appeal to all of their desires at the same time. I’m not sure if it is the best burger I’ve ever had but it is certainly one of the more unique. The meat was cooked beautifully and the toppings, although a bit overwhelming resulted in one of the more unique burgers I’ve had, probably because it relied on fresh ingredients instead of grease and salt as the primary means of flavour. The chicken sandwich was a step above many (I’d put that shit on everything), especially those which usually play second fiddle in a typical burger joint. The fries held their own (especially with Sir Kensington’s help) and the rings were divine. When all is said and done a burger, fries and drink will run you $20 which can buy you a whole lotta karma, a cocktail at a hipster haven or an official duck commander quack pack duck call so I’ll let you decide.

Starring in “Baptism at Brunch”…A Made in America Movie Now Showing at Foreign Cinema

August 3, 2014August 3, 2014 spennyrdLeave a comment

Some will argue that being a foodie/hipster is a religion or better yet a cult. Either way, like other theologies, there is a strict doctrine one must follow to gain acceptance by the congregation:

1. Do your best to looks like the guy on the side of the Abercrombie bag. If you cannot achieve the Adonis six-pack, then the clueless look into the distance will suffice.

2. Scoff at the hicks and jersey wearing sports enthusiasts who drink Bud Light to get free Nascar swag or an NHL beer cozy while they drink Pabst Blue Ribbon; a beer just as shitty where they get absolutely nothing.

3. Eat brunch.

Brunch is a rite of passage for the hipster/foodie type. It’s like a baptism into the church of all things pretentious. It also allows one to eat foods you can only get as part of the weekend menu or pay $4-5 bucks for something just deemed breakfast every other day of the week. In addition, it is typically not served before 11 am which applies to John Q. Foodie because they are soooo hungover from all the bourbon they drank the night before. There’s also the fact that having another cocktail designed for the morning hours or a french press coffee is such a much cooler remedy than a couple of advil and a bowl of Cap’n Crunch at home.

I was in San Francisco so attending brunch here would be like attending mass in the Sistine Chapel. So I looked long and hard to find a suitable brunch that met all the criteria but considering the fact it had to be on a Saturday (the orthodox foodie will only attend brunch on Sundays). Luckily, foreign cinema fit the bill. It is highly rated on numerous websites, situated in a “developing” area of San Francisco and boasts menu items like organic pop tarts, oysters and whipped cod brandade.

It was quite a cab ride from the convention centre. We were driven by a rather frivolous cabbie into the heart of the Mission district and were dropped off at the address listed on Google maps. An extra blink and I would have missed it. The front of the restaurant looked as debilitated as the rest of the buildings along the street. The entrance was a long tunnel which ended at a large, open courtyard that was already buzzing with hungry brunch goers. Despite the open concept it was quite loud which made it quite difficult to carry on a conversation. The clergy (servers) seemed preoccupied and slow throughout the meal which I concluded was appropriate given the ceremony.

Of course, I started with the organic pop tart ($6.75 ) and a stiff drink (Persian Bloody Mary $11). Both met at least one criteria for an ideal brunch experience. The overpriced pop tart was flimsy and unimpressive and only surrounded a tiny amount of peach filling. The Bloody Mary was seasoned with aggressive middle eastern flavours but as a Canadian, I’ve never had a Bloody Mary that comes anywhere close to a Caesar.

For my main I opted for the Chile Verde (fried eggs, slow-cooked heritage pork, poblanos, tomatillos, mojo, queso fresco and tortilla ribbons) for $18. Although not the prettiest dish (especially once you began to dismantle it), the flavours blended beautifully. . Each bite, lead by the pork and egg, was a blend of fresh flavours accented with a perfect amount of acid and heat from the vegetables and sauces.

My Take

As mentioned, my visit to foreign cinema was like a baptism into San Francisco foodieism (probably pronounced foo-day-ism). It was a loud but enjoyable ceremony. I managed to visit an” up and coming” area of town, order organic food, drink a breakfast boozy cocktail and pay too much for eggs. I even got somewhat pretentious service to match. However, I am still unclear on the whole movie concept. First, it’s called foreign cinema and plays predominantly American movies. Second, I saw no evidence of the movie at all. I think they play them in the outdoor courtyard which wasn’t offered to me. Maybe that section is reserved for the established foodies and not the ones who think paying seven bucks for a pop tart is an automatic ticket to hipster heaven.