There are a number of references to famous faces (and maybe not so many) I have come across in my travels:
• Two-face is a notorious villain in the Batman franchise.
• Faceman (the Face), played by Dirk Benedict and later Bradley Cooper, was a member of the quartet which made up the A-team.
• My Brave Face was Paul McCartney’s attempt to import and adapt his immense musical talent into the mundane late 80’s pop scene
• Furnace Face was a 90’s Canadian Indy band who put out such songs as “We Love you, Tipper Gore” with an anti-censorship theme and “She Thinks She’s Fat” which addresses the body image image which plagues to this day.
The newest addition to the list is Noodle Face, the recently opened Chinese restaurant in Baldwin Village. Like many of it’s neighbours, it’s a no frills eatery with relatively inexpensive meal choices served with the ethnic flare of the far east. The hand-drawn sign is almost invisible among the other makeshift ones lining the street. Inside is no different. Concrete brick walls on one side and a hand drawn mural on the other, plywood counters and a large, messy blackboard highlight the 40 seat interior. I arrived around lunch and managed to get a seat by the window (in fact probably the only seat by the window). I was offered a tea which was served in an aged enamel cup as a ratty menu was presented containing all sorts of traditional Chinese noodles and soups as opposed to the more common ramen and pho. There is also a list of signature and specialty dishes ranging from pancakes to perfect chicken legs and secret buns you have to drop in and try.
Noodle Face Subtle SignageTea at Noodle Face
The “Chef Q handmade dumplings” is a broth soup made with seaweed, scallions, a few glass noodles and the aforementioned dumplings. It was very different from the ramen and pho in that the broth was predominately sour versus salty. It was a bit of an acquired taste that got rather pleasant as you ate more of it. When you ate something else and went back, however, you were caught off guard again because of the sourness. The soup dumplings were thick and tasty and filled with flavourful, seasoned pork. The plentiful onions added a nice bite.
Chef Q Handmade Dumpling Soup $6
The dummy salad came with a choice of green beans or broccoli with no description other than that. I had no idea what a dummy salad was so I ordered it. Basically it was a plate of cold beans dressed lightly and topped with sesame seeds. The beans were not the freshest I have had but the dressing was subtle and refreshing. Otherwise, it was rather unremarkable.
Dummy Salad (Green Beans) $4
The menu is in no way modest. Case and point is the Rou-Jai-Mo, which is described as follows: “Is mo a bread? Bun? Bao or Nann? Figure it out yourself for our top-rated small food.” Intrigued, I ordered one. I expected a soft pork bun but instead got something that I would describe as a cross between a crunchy english muffin and a tea biscuit. It was stuffed with meat which resembled canned flakes of ham seasoned with cilantro in both appearance and taste. It wasn’t unpleasant but it a was secret that wasn’t as juicy as anticipated.
Rou-Jai-Mo $3
My Take
Noodle face co. is a new joint with a no frills appearance that fits well with the Baldwin Street scene. Instead of duplicating the numerous ramen and pho houses, it offers unique fare more indicative of China than Korea or Japan. The menu is diverse and cryptic which either offers no description of items or very detailed warnings, precautions and promises. Although nothing blew my mind, I wasn’t too disappointed. If anything, the food is unique and the price point reasonable. Noodle Face isn’t pretty like Templeton Peck. It doesn’t aim to conform to the popularity of everybody else like at a late eighties Paul McCartney song. If anything, it’s kind of like Furnaceface; refreshingly unpredictable while making bold statements on a budget…but not for everybody.
Parts and Labour’s offspring, P &L burger, was in part due to its performance on Burger Wars, in which it beat out rivals Burger’s Priest and Dangerous Dan’s to claim supremacy. It opened its doors recently near Queen and Spadina, only a few doors down from Burger’s Priest and in an area with an ever increasing number of fast/snack food options. Upon entry, I was greeted by a young lady with modern enthusiasm who quickly took my order. Fifteen minutes later, almost to the second, my number was called and I proceeded to the counter. The cook was as cool as his facial hair and engaged me in a very pleasant conversation about the weather, cycling and growing up in Windsor, Ontario…a far cry from the less than enjoyable service I often receive from other places in the area.
Let’s do a quick historical recount of the evolution of the burger culture in the United States. It would be hard to argue that the Big Mac is not one of the most iconic and recognizable food on earth. In fact, economic models use the cost of a Big Mac to standardize the state of the economy across the globe. The brilliance of the Big Mac lies partially in the use of a secret sauce to add some tanginess to the other layers of flavours one would associate with a burger. The Big Mac was “invented” by a Pittsburgh franchisee in 1967 who developed it to compete with the Big Boy (developed circa 1937), the flagship burger of the restaurant of the same name. The Big Boy is a three layered burger, served on a sesame bun with all the fixings including a special sauce (sound familiar?). Once a presence throughout the United States, Big Boy still exists although primarily within the state lines of Michigan although a few still exist in Ohio and California.
What struck me the minute I tried the deluxe was the fact that I was eating a hipster Big Mac. It had most of the components with an extra emphasis on the the huge beef patty, which was cooked a juicy medium-well. The P&L sauce was an excellent condiment and resembled the special sauce that made the Big Mac famous. The cheese was melted nicely and crispy bacon pieces lined the thick patty. It was a big, sloppy and delicious mess. Consuming it did make me wonder why too many other burger places haven’t made an effort to mimic one of America’s favorite and most recognizable foodstuffs. As far as the sides, I found the fries rather soggy and the slaw unappealing in both colour and taste.
The Deluxe $9 (aka The Hipster Big Mac)
Somewhat Soggy Fries (plus $3 with drink)
P & L Slaw ($3)
My Take
Not only did Big Boy invent the saucy burger, I argue they invented the hipster. I mean, look at the mascot:
1. He wears checkered clothing.
2. He has a clean side part and a a flip in the front.
3. He is wearing light blue shoes.
4. He has that “I’m cool because I’m about to eat a burger” look on his face.
Big Boy- The Original Hipster
Now McDonald’s stole the Big Mac concept but alienated the hipster concept and instead introduced Ronald McDonald in 1963. The famous clown (which apparently has 96% recognition in the USA), was created by Willard Scott (yes…the same Willard Scott who gained fame as a Today show weatherman). Since then, there have been eight actors who have portrayed the famous clown and none of them have worn, plaid, plastic rimmed glasses or parted their hair to the side.
Willard Scott as the original Ronald McDonald- This would be enough to make me a vegetarian
P&L has created a DELICIOUS burger which competes for the best under $10 in Toronto. The sauce is the key, adding a tangy cut through the richness of the thick beef patty and accompanying melted Amercian cheese and bacon. The bun is terrific and the condiments are as harmonious as the Big Mac song itself. The fries were soggy and the slaw was unremarkable. You’re likely in for about a 15 minute wait but I think it’s worth it (after all some people in Toronto have no issue waiting hours for a stool tucked in the corner of a popular snack bar). Now that I’ve read a bit about burger history I realize that in fact the classic sandwich is the perfect food for the modern day hipster; you can dress like Big Boy and act like a clown.
Bar Buca comes for a pedigree that has gained the attention of the likes of Jamie Oliver among others. So far, so good for the offspring. It has escaped the mercurial grasp of the Globe and Mail’s Chris Nuttall-Smith as well as gaining praise from seasoned critic Joanne Kates (who I’m convinced is Carmen Sandiego) who recently called it the best thing to open in a year.
In one sense it’s following the lead of the snack bar swing which has taken Toronto by storm. In another it ups the ante by offerings goods all day including a coffee and breakfast bar as early as 7 am. The quiet exterior on Portland hides a deceivingly large area with high ceilings, seating which includes wooden high tables, an open kitchen and a coffee/booze bar right inside the entrance. In the morning, each table is equipped with sugar as well as a sugar/espresso paste in a jar which offers an extra kick to the morning coffee. Speaking of which, there are couple of dozen espresso/latte combinations to choose from. After careful deliberation I opted for a Latte Canadese latte style ($5.50). The foundation was maple and brown butter. Although the size would barely compete with a Starbucks tall, the flavour was far superior. Not for everybody, it was a bit like drinking melted fudge but the bitterness of the coffee bean balanced it to a degree.
Latte Canadese $5.50
The breakfast menu features everything from savory egg dishes to sweet pastries. Sensing my indecision, the waiter (yes, I may have forgotten to mention you sit down and they take your coffee order at the table) recommended pane and ricotta; fresh ciabatta bread lathered with fresh ricotta cheese and topped with pear marmalade (honey was an option as well) for $3.50. There was no shortage of fresh cheese. The bread was fresh and the marmalade added the contrast of sweet and clove.
Pane and Ricotta $3.50
My Take
Chef Rob Gentile has not only jumped on the snack food bandwagon, he’s added horsepower and a fresh coat of paint. The deviation from dinner only hours provides the opportunity to snack on an array of goods anytime of day. A smart breakfast menu with both sweet and savory items which fills the huge gap between greasy spoons and coffee shop pastries is sheer genius. The diversity and quality of caffeinated options rivals any other coffeehouse in the area. I have every intention of indulging on cicchettis, spuntinis and schiacciatas sometime soon but thankfully I have 15 hours a day and 7 days a week to do so.
Pukka opened last year along the relative foodie-free St. Clair West area. Until then, I’ve always associated the word Pukka with something that happens after a few too many pints or the name of a popular pie advertised at football matches across England. It’s real definition is “genuine”. Pukka touts itself as being the “best modern Indian restaurant in Toronto”. To date, most Indian restaurants in Toronto have been either small, family run hole-in-the-wall cubbies, extravagantly decorated upscale chains such as the Host or all you can eat buffets which dull down flavours to appease the boring palates of Caucasians who just looovvvveee Indian food. Pukka takes a page from Vancouver’s Vikram Vij, an international celebrity chef who gained fame by introducing Indian flavours into mainstream dishes in a stunning environment with excellent service.
Unlike Vij’s, Pukka takes reservations, so that’s a great start. I booked a table to have dinner with some colleagues. The decor mimics numerous other Toronto dinner hot spots. It’s cozy and noisy with a huge bar and colourful art all over the walls. The staff were courteous, dapper and as I would find out later, very knowledgeable.
First off was the drink order. Choices include wine, martinis, a small beer selection and traditional cocktails such as mojitos and old fashioneds. I was intrigued by the Chai town ($8.40), a clever mix of bourbon, chai tea, pomegranate liqueur and bitters. It tasted a bit like a Negroni’s younger brother. It had a pleasant sweetness coupled with the subtle tickling of chai on the tongue.
Chai Town $8.40
The menu is divided into snacks, eats and sides as well as bread and rice. We got the normal banter of how many dishes four grown men should order to ensure they leave happy. From the list of snacks, we ordered vegetable string chaat, tandoori chicken tikka and gunpowder prawns.
The chaat was one of my favorite dishes and certainly was the lightest. I’d best call it a bowl of Rice Krispies gone Bollywood. Visually stunning, the flares of colour and flavour provided a different snap, crackle and pop to this vibrant dish.
Vegetable String Chaat $8.70
The chicken tikki was another visually stunning dish. More importantly, it maintained the moisture commonly lost when smaller pieces of chicken are overcooked. The seasoning was subtle and authentic and the saffron butter sauce added brilliance to the dish.
Tandoori Chicken Tikka $12.8
The gunpowder shrimp with moong bean salad was twice the price of the other snacks. Four hearty shrimp were presented atop of an earthy bed of beans. They were well seasoned although maybe a tad overcooked.
Gunpowder Prawns $17.90
For “eats”, we ordered the boatman’s fish and prawn curry, the madras pepper steak and beef short ribs. As one of the most expensive dishes on the menu ($25.80), I was hoping for a little more content. Only a few prawns and a couple of chucks of fish swam in the thin but flavourful broth. One of the sides was Bhindi bhaji; tender okra which simply seasoned with onion, ginger and garlic. It was a fresh addition to the heavily sauced entrees which surrounded it.
Boatman’s fish and prawn curry $25.80 Bhindi bhaji $8.70
The pepper steak ($19.70) was a flat iron cut served in a fragrant sauce with pepper, onion and coconut. Although it didn’t swell with Indian flavours, technically it beat others I’ve had from the likes of Ruby Watchco and Bestellen. The meat was tender and cooked beautifully, needing little more than weak pressure of a butter knife to get through. The side of green beans were jazzed up nicely with onions, tumeric and coconut. They kind of reminded me of a healthy version of pakoras.
Madras Pepper Steak ($19.70) and French Beans ($9.80)
The highlight of the night was the beef short rib ($22.40). The cook on the meat was perfect….no grit, no string, no chewiness. The sauce was an aggressive blend of traditional Indian flavours which enhanced the star of the plate instead of drowning it.
Beef Short Ribs $22.40
Naan ($2.70) and basmatic rice ($4.60) were offered as sides. I swear Mason jars make everything just a little more expensive.
Naan Bread ($2.70)- Two Orders
Saffron Rice $4.60
From the small dessert menu, I went for the sweet plate ($9.80) as I was intrigued by the marshmallows rolled in garam masala sugar. The plate also came with a torte dipped in ginger and topped with whipped cream and tandoori pineapple. The third was naan khatai, a traditional Indian sugar cookie. The marshmallows were a tease and I easily would have traded the rest of the plate for four more.
Sweet Plate ($9.80)
My colleague ordered the toasted coconut panna cotta topped with lemon and tandoori pineapple. I had a morsel which was quite brilliant. It was a tad unorthodox, lacking the extreme sweetness of traditional Indian desserts.
Toasted Coconut Panna Cotta $8.50
My Take
Pukka could be the best modern Indian restaurant in Toronto. It fuses traditional but subtle Indian flavours with a decor and vibe indicative of Toronto’s trendy dining scene although it’s in a bit of an odd location. The dishes avoid the salty/fatty flavours that have become the seasoning of choice for many other nightspots and replace them with vibrant flavours including a whole lotta coconut.
The staff were friendly and knowledgeable, replicating a passion that mimicked the flavours that radiated from the plate. The chaat was brilliant. The meat dishes were executed to near perfection although the seafood was steeply priced and a little less impressive. The panna cotta and marshmallows were delicious.
If you’re looking for your taste buds to get slapped around by a dabba for a great price, one of the many mum and dad shops may serve your purpose. If you’re looking to overindulge on limitless portions of curries, there’s many a buffet for that. If, however, you want more subtle Indian flavours fused with trendy dishes at lofty prices in the context of a modern automat, Pukka is your place.
The hunt for a great burger sometimes goes outside of the city limits. I was in Ajax recently and saw Retro Burger tucked in a strip mall on Bayley St. I went for two reasons. First, I left like a burger. Second, I wanted to determine what exactly made a burger “retro”.
There was a time when the word retro was used to describe things that occurred well before my time. As I get longer in the tooth (that saying in itself ages me), I realize that I am, in fact, retro. Although I can’t relate to the objects in the Grey Power commercials, I could relate to the Pac-Man icon on the wall and the fact that the smiling and enthusiastic staff were likely half my age.
Growing up, I remember two types of burgers. The first were the dry, underseasoned and overcooked ones I ate at home, likely the result of an exaggerated fear over some type of food-borne illness. The second were the oversalted fast food variety which included McDonald’s, Deluxe (a Sudbury staple) and A&W which,at the time, was served on a tray which hung off your car window while you sat in the drive-in.
Retro burger was neither. I would call it cross between Five Guys and Harvey’s. The burger was Five Guys except char broiled : moist and a nice thickness relative to the bun. What can I say? Bun:meat ratio is important to me. The toppings were Harvey’s style; choose your own from the offerings behind the glass. In addition to the standard condiments, they offer a number of sauces to spice things up. I went traditional, opting for cheese, mustard, onion, pickles and hot peppers. A sesame seed bun is always a good call. The fries were skin on and a nice thickness. The combo (including a drink), was around $10, taxes in.
Retroburger and Fries
Cross Section of a Retroburger
There are a number of other items on the menu including philly cheesesteaks, hand- dipped fish and chips and souvlaki. The guy in front in front me order the cheese steak and it looked rather delicious.
My Take
After going to retro burger, I’m still a little perplexed at what makes this place retro. I couldn’t eat the burger off a tray hinged to my car window. It didn’t remind me of the pitiful, overcooked burgers I ate as a kid. Maybe it’s the fact that they pleasantly serve a decent burger at a decent price (including an after 2 pm special) without complicating things by offering kobe beef/buffalo patties topped with avocado, pineapple or a fried egg. Although the experience didn’t flood my brain with the nostalgia of 1982 , at least I wasn’t put through the torture of Tommy Tutone dialing phone numbers or forced to ensure one-hit wonder Buckner and Garcia’s “Pac-Man Fever”.
My alarm went off the Sunday morning after we sprung the clocks forward the night before. It was 630 am and I was just outside Detroit with the ultimate destination of making a 515pm reservation at Husk in Nashville with a lunch stop in-between. Keep in mind I had my two teenage daughters with me and it was part of a nearly week long tour of Tennessee and Kentucky but it seemed an exciting task to try and make a reservation 8 hours away in time. According to the reviews, Husk may be worth the drive considering it was voted the number 6 best new restaurant in the USA by GQ magazine. I was a bit torn since I have longed pledged my allegiance to Anthony Bourdain and felt a slight sense of betrayal since I’m sure Anthony would respect my adventurous nature but would hardly approve of my destination given the fact he refers to GQ’s food critic Alan Richman as a “douchebag” in his book Medium Raw, partly because he insists that celebrity chefs should hang in their restaurants.
Driving in both Kentucky and Tennessee is quite refreshing. The roads tend not to get congested, the drivers are fast and the roads and scenery are nice. As a result, there was little issue getting to Nashville on time, especially given the unexpected time change which occurs somewhere in Kentucky. After checking into the hotel, we jaunted a bit off the beaten path to the restaurant and arrived just in time for our reservation.
Husk is an extension of the original in Charleston, South Carolina which has the same name and under the eye of executive chef Sean Brock. Of some irony is the fact that the original was slammed by Richman. Nashville’s version promises upscale southern food using only ingredients which can be attained within a small radius of the restaurant itself. The menu is published daily and features a wide selection of starters and mains. I was there on a Sunday and was somewhat dismayed to discover that the wings voted one of the best in America by website Epicurious were not on the evening menu.
We were seated on the bottom level of the nicely designed restaurant. It was modern yet rustic. The walls were filled with pictures of an array of things including those of Nashville past. The staff were smartly dressed, looking as if they came straight from a restaurant wars challenge on Top Chef. The crowd was a mix of young and old and included hipsters that looked mighty similar to those I see in Toronto.
The drink menu consisted of a decent variety of wine, local beer (primarily from Yazoo) and signature cocktails ranging from low alcohol choices celebrating (if that’s the right word) prohibition to modern interpretations of some modern favorites. My choice was the Barrel Aged Seelbach which was bourbon based and laced with fun things like curacao and bitters for $13. I suppose this is no cheaper than the heavily taxed cocktails I’m accustomed to in Canada, busting the myth that America is a haven for cheap booze and watered down beer and cocktails. I quite enjoy bourbon based cocktails and this was no exception. The sweet bourbon was nicely contrasted by the bitters and the drink tasted better with every sip.
Barrel Aged Seelbach $13
They also had a wide array of Bourbon which ranging from $7 to around $40 which included some high proof, reserve and aged choices.
Reviews of this place have criticized the lack of southern hospitality offered by the waitstaff. I have to agree to some extent. Our waitress was pleasant but the friendliness was somewhat guarded and seemed to be infused with some pretension, perhaps to justify charging $26 for a piece of chicken. Service was prompt although there is a fair lag between the starters and mains. For the starters, I opted for the Husk Shrimp and Grits “A Tribute to Bill Neal”. I’m not sure who Bill Neal is but I’m sure he’s pleased to know this dish bears his name. The grits were heavenly creamy, creating that perfect mouth-feel that reminded me of relishing Cream of Wheat as a kid. The shrimp were delicately cooked and seasoned and even managed to convince my generally seafood-phobic daughter.
Shrimp and Grits “A Tribute to Bill Neal” $11
The BBQ Pork Ribs with Charred Scallion Sauce ($14) were a upscale interpretation of this southern classic. They were quite meaty but don’t expect the deep flavor and tenderness synonymous with hours in a smoker. The sauce, however, was delicious; a perfect blend between BBQ sweet and vinegary sour.
BBQ Pork Ribs with Charred Scallion Sauce $14
The last “first” was A Plate of Bob Woods’ 24-Month Country Ham, Soft Rolls, Mustard, HUSK pickles for $13. The ham was pungently wonderful and tasted almost like a prosciutto. The remaining ingredients were great compliments to a dish which screamed comfort. The buns were fresh and pickled cauliflower was vibrant and a nice contrast to the sweet and fatty ham.
A Plate of Bob Woods’ 24 Month Ham, Mustard, Husk Pickles $13
Although a main for each of us was suggested, we decided on the Tanglewood Farms chicken, grilled over hickory embers, potato dumplings and carrots for $26. Much like ribs, when I envision chicken and dumplings I think of comfort food which includes tender chicken, fluffy biscuits and hearty portions of root veggies. Husk’s modernized twist kept the chicken intact but omitted the chunks of dough and carrots, replacing them with bite size gnudi and pureed carrot kisses. My daughters looked a little perplexed. The poultry was tender and seasoned wonderfully. Although the dumplings and carrots were swimming in a small puddle of sauce, it would have been grand to have a little more to complement the chicken and remind me that this in fact is a comfort food.
Tangle Wood Farms Chicken with Sides Below $26“Potato Dumplings and Carrots”
The most anticipated part of the dinner was the plate of southern vegetables for $25. There were three reasons for this. First, I was curious to see how you could justify a plate of veggies for $25. Next, it is arguably the most talked about dish at Husk. Finally, I’m tickled that a place would equate a mosaic of plant-based concepts with menu staples like beef, pork and catfish.
On this night, the southern plate consisted of:
a) Gourd soup with pistachio and chives- Served warm, it had great base flavour which was complemented by some crunch and cream.
b) Tomato and grits topped with a farm fresh poached egg- The acid of the tomato was terrific with the sweet corn. A perfectly cooked egg just makes anything better.
c) Soy Glazed Broccoli- Simple but the best part of the dish according to my daughters. Perfect saltiness and heat surrounded the crunchy vegetable.
d) Roasted Turnips- After eating these, the turnip bottoms may replace of the tops as the go-to part of the plant for southern feasts.
e) Farro and Lima Bean Salad- Also a salad I have seen north of the border, it was earthy and well balanced with a great touch of acid and sweetness in the dressing.
A Plate of Southern Vegetables $25
The after dinner offerings paid homage to the classic desserts of the south but also had a refined twist to them. Chess pie, butterscotch pudding and strawberry shortcake highlighted the sweets menu. I opted for the latter two. The pudding was laced with bourbon and served with a pastry offering a hint of apple flavour. Collectively it was quite delicious. The shortcake composed of soft serve and strawberries which were divine, especially for a Canadian who is only exposed to the albino grocery store berries until May or June.
Butterscotch Bourbon Pudding Cup $7Strawberry Shortcake Soft Serve $7
My Take
Husk has found a niche offering high end southern food, a stark contrast from popular places such as Arnold’s Country Kitchen and other iconic Nashville eateries. The dishes are refined, pretty and pricey. The execution is near flawless. I can’t comment on whether this is the 6th best new restaurant in the whole of America but it has all the elements of success; a strong endorsement by a leading food critic, a terrific concept featuring farm to table food with no compromise, a modern and comfortable environment and a whole lot of buzz. The grits were fantastic and the plate of southern vegetables is well worth the price. The chicken was let down by the somewhat dismal sides. The desserts and cocktails were sinful and true to the region.
Afterwards, we took a walk down Broadway to find a slew of drunk tourists, neon lights and a guy who was high, very interested in the odd appearance of Canadian money and sung us a Jason Aldean and an Allman brothers song in exchange for a five dollar bill. Despite this fact, I walked away singing the Tragically Hip’s It can’t be Nashville every night:
He said, ‘we are what we lack’
and this guy’s the autodidact
stares into the glare of them TV lights
It can’t be Nashville every night
with it’s la la oh oh ohs,
whoa-ohs and yeahs.
Yep, so far so good. An eight hour drive husking and busking in Nashville brought on a degree of la la oh oh ohs and I hadn’t even hit Arnold’s yet. I promised myself I’d go hardcore Bourdain style in Nashville on day three to make amends for my temporary allegiance to Mr. Richman, arguably one of America’s most well known autodidacts. PS. Alan. I don’t think Sean Brock was in the house. Are we good now, Tony?
I love Detroit. Once the leader of the industrial revolution, it has become the poster city for the collection of cities that now compose the infamous rust belt. That said, the pride and determination of the residents has been the blueprint in the evolution of a new Detroit; one which is humble, thankful and kinda cool.
Day one of a March Break getaway was a quick stop in Detroit to get a little closer to my ultimate destination of Tennessee. After crossing the border, I veered off the highway immediately for a quick stop in Mexicantown. If anything, this area of Detroit is a microcosm of the city as a whole. It’s wonderfully worn down, bleeding character which leads you to empathize instead of pity the situation. There are no shortage of eateries within the cramped quarters but I opted for La Gloria, an all day bakery specializing in cinnamon conchas, churros and even a tamale if you’r so inclined. After becoming somewhat confused by the narrow streets and haphazard parking job of the locals, I nestled comfortably in lot beside the noticeably pink building and walked in.
The procedure is rather simple. Grab a plastic tray, line it with some paper, get a set of tongs and walk by the numerous offerings enclosed within plastic bins. Most things (from turnovers to heart shaped cookies which say “Te Amo”) range from $0.50-$2.00. When you’re done, your order is rung up and placed in a bag or box depending on quantity.
The conchas are sweet breads similar to donuts that would be considered their “signature” item. I scooped up a cinnamon one as well as a few churros, a tart and a few other baked treats. The grand total was about $7. Collectively. they were quite delicious and well worth the price. I rolled in around four and was left to imagine how divine everything would taste at 5 am when the place opens.
Assorted Baked Goods ($7) minus one churro (likely the result of a suspicious 14 year old).
After navigating the narrow streets of Mexicantown and taking a wrong turn or two, it was off to the airport area to crash before the long trip to Nashville. Romulus is not a mecca for food (it seems confined to a few fast food joints and one strip plaza which has a grille, Chinese place, a Subway and Beirut, a small Lebanese place. My daughter had a craving for the latter, so I ordered a couple of chicken shawarmas and a appetizer plate which consisted of hummus, baba ghannouj (which is Arabic for pampered papa), a few falafels, grape leaves and fattouch. The total was just shy of $30 (there were also three drinks). This is the point in which I put in the disclaimer that some of the best Lebanese food I have had is in the Detroit/Windsor area. Toronto lags significantly behind (just read my Dr. Laffa review). The starter plate was delicious. The hummus was smooth and full of flavour, the baba ghannouj was smoky and grape leaves were some of the best I’ve had. They were almost crispy but melted in your mouth afterwards, a far cry from some of the soggy offerings I’ve had at other places. The falafels were average in flavour a little too dry. The soup was piping hot, had a great texture and was seasoned nicely. The shawarmas were more than acceptable but were a little flimsy in construction (although it’s hard to complain that much for 5 bucks). I like shawarmas that are stuffed with pickles and lettuce and drip toum, tahini or hummus incessantly, making for a ridiculous eating experience. These were almost too easy to eat given the sparse use of condiments although the chicken was seasoned well.
Detroit dining is a mosaic of cultures highlighted by really cool Mexican and Lebanese food. Both La Gloria and Beirut represent their respective cultures in an inexpensive but delicious way. Chances are I’m unlikely to chow down on authentic middle eastern fare as I dive into the depths of Tennessee in the coming days.
To switch things up, our last team meeting was planned outside of the normal confines of the GTA and we headed to Niagara-on-the Lake. A hot spot for worldwide travelers during the summer months, this small border town on Lake Ontario sits quiet during the winter months populated by stray deal seekers and seniors who didn’t make the trek down south for the cold season.
I showed up at the Prince of Wales a little late but in time for the second course of a wine and food pairing. I quickly had a glass of Cattail Creek Pinot Noir shoved into my hand while the chef explained the salmon he prepared. It was a pan roasted organic salmon cake, blue cornmeal and citron aioli lettuce wrap slider. Very tasty.
Salmon Cake
The next course was a fair trade coffee braised Ontario short rib, sweet potato and succotash and watercress salad served with a Henry of Pelham estate cab/merlot. They paired together nicely and the spoon was a blend of nice winter flavours.
Coffee Braised Short Rib
The final was a dessert tray with a divine 2005 Southbrook ice wine. Promised to have complex fruit flavours, it had an overwhelming but delicious raisin flavour that was delicious with the truffles.
Further inspection of the hotel afterwards revealed a setting which may have been the inspiration for the Shining or some other horror movie. The attention to detail in everything from the tapestries to the door knobs was incredible and a far cry from the facades which grace most of the modern day destinations in metropolitan areas. Part of the ambiance was a number of oil paintings scattered throughout the hotel depicting members of the royal family past and present. Almost ever suite in the hotel is different. Mine was a red room complete with velvety curtains, matching carpet and a Pollyanna backboard. There was antique side tables, cozy chairs and yes…an oil painting with two overdressed and unhappy children staring at me.
Room at the Prince of Wales
Day 2– Beer is the new wine but microgreens are alive and well
There’s a beer movement brewing in the wine-dominated Niagara region. The Prince of Wales featured Niagara-on-the-Lake’s own Silversmith black lager. It reminded me of a black and tan..it starts punchy and ends with a smooth finish. The Butler’s bitter is produced by students of the Niagara College teaching brewery and proudly features on the list of taps available. Meant to resemble the beer of choice (or perhaps necessity) by the 1812 British soldiers, it was pleasantly unrefined but surprisingly refreshing.
We walked down the street to the Charles Inn for dinner. It was a mere five blocks from the Prince of Wales but during a polar vortex it felt like a marathon of a walk. It’s a quaint hotel and unlike the Prince, it was decorated much more subtly but still maintained the feel of a 19th century abode. It was a set dinner but was a fair representation of the food scene in this sleepy winter town; squash, microgreens, pork and salmon. In a sense, it’s a fusion of old school dining with a flare of the new. I opted for the squash veloute (which in fact was a cream soup but I guess you can call it a veloute as much as you can call it a bisque). It was hot and creamy and flavourful. The roasted marshmallow was a nice addition but a few springs of crispy sage would have worked really well.
Squash Veloute (aka soup).
The pork loin was served roasted and was coupled with a square of belly, another example of a fusion of eras versus one of cultures. It was cooked and seasoned nicely and served with root vegetables and a sort of potato pave. I’m sure the latter is a favorite of the locals year round as it screams old school french.
Pork Loin Entree with potato pave and root vegetables
Coming as no surprise, dessert was creme brule, the ubiquitous staple of purveyors of fine dining and pyromaniacs across the country. It had all the elements; crispy top, smooth bottom, a spattering of fresh fruit. and yes..icing sugar. Looking at it was like watching a Miracle on 34th street. I felt relieved knowing this dish would still be around when I was 65 or 70.
Creme Brulee
Day Three– Burgers, Balzac’s and Brass Tacks
So there’s no question that a winter virus plus a few too many brews makes one a little groggy the next morning so I crossed the street to Balzac’s to indulge in some sort of recovery beverage. Balzac’s is small chain of coffee shops that populate the Golden Horseshoe. They offer roomy interiors and a carousel of available coffees. In addition, they sell traditional coffee inspired beverages but also feature some interesting elixirs that crush things like Starbucks sickly sweet caramel flan latte. The citro-boost for example, is a potion of lemon, maple syrup, ginger and cayenne pepper. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. I trotted back across the street, sat in my meeting and felt medicinally wonderful as my colleagues sipped the watery, hotel made coffee of unknown origin. The next day I went back and had the Cafe Nordique, a latte with honey, vanilla and cardamom. Although a little on the sweet side, the cardamom burst through, resulting in a pleasurable treat.
In the still of winter, I was not surprised that the hotel was rather empty on Monday and Tuesday night. Wednesday, however, was a different story. After my meeting, the bar/restaurant was buzzing and filled to capacity. A wave of blue hairs and accompanying distinguished gentlemen had invaded the place. When I asked the barkeep what was going on she responded with two words: Burger night. It seems 5 dollar burger night is all the rage. The locals dig themselves out of the driveways and brave the cold to indulge on this weekly treat. You even see a pint or a glass of wine peppered on tables around the bar although fisticuffs remained at a minimum.
My plans involved crossing the street to the Irish Harp pub. Voted Niagara’s number one pub, it features an array of local and European beer. Their flagship pints are sold under the “Irish Harp” name and brewed close by. I sucked a few back over the evening with great delight. To my surprise, not every person in Niagara-on-the-Lake was eating a burger at the Prince. The remaining folks were about to engage in Wednesday trivia night. The place was quarter full but table tents with team names adorned most of the unoccupied tables. We took one of the only free tables on the bar side. Shortly after, the regular crowd shuffled in. One group was a half dozen twenty-somethings who looked like trivia was their only break from hours of Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto. Another table was Niagara-on-the-Lake’s version of thirty something foodies. The remaining tables were serious looking mixes of older patrons who were here to play. The husband/wife trivia leading tandem showed up and we were off to the races. Six sheets were circulated in succession with questions that would stump Ken Jennings. The lager numbed the fact that I couldn’t list the first native american prima ballerina (who passed away in 2013) although I did know the author of Get Shorty. After 4 rounds we were in third place and received a few threatening glares from the locals but in rookie fashion we choked a bit in the last two rounds and finished out of the money in 5th place (actually it wasn’t money…first place was a basket of homemade chocolate).
I found the food average. The black and tan onion rings with Guinness spiked mayonnaise were a unique and delicious twist on the traditional appetizer although a little steep at $13.
Black and Tan Onion Rings $13
For a main, I ordered the Irish hot pot which combined a small portion of Irish Stew with the Steak and Guinness pie for $13 and a side of mashed for $2.50. It was quite average. The meat was tenderish and the seasoning was acceptable but neither dish was mind blowing. The picture is really bad because I wasn’t allowed to use my phone during trivia so had to sneak a fast shot…proof I’m not Peter Parker. The pictureless bread pudding was quite delicious, a fitting end to a table who wasn’t quite smart enough to win the prized confections.
Irish Hot Pot $13 plus $2.50 for potatoes
My Take
Niagara-on-the-Lake made me crave life after 65. The thought of indulging on microgreens, creme brulee and a weekly burger plus a trivia beat down while drinking copious amounts of microbrewed beer is a solid retirement plan. Sure, I would need to put up with annoying summer tourists and creepy oil paintings but it beats snowbirding to Florida, plying bingo and eating dinner at 4 pm every night.
Most ramen joints are strutting their stuff right now. Neck in neck with tacos, ramen was the top trend in the GTA in 2013. Large windows showcasing the interior cramped quarters have become the norm for these eateries, so I was intrigued when I hit Kenzo noodle house on Dundas street over lunch. Blinds cover the windows below a modest red sign and a logo of a rather mean looking dude with his arms crossed. It seemed a bit taboo. Swinging open the door, I felt a little like Anthony Bourdain on CNN’s Parts Unknown until I quickly realized the blinds were likely there to keep out the sun and not to hide something forbidden. The decor was plain; in fact almost run down. A combination of tables and booths line the walls which are covered with aged pictures advertising Matcha tea smoothies. The creepy white ceramic cat which features in the majority of Asian restaurants stared and waved at me with that look I don’t quite trust.
A pleasant waitress came by quickly with a glass of water a handed me a menu which looked like it had been dropped in a puddle and then used as a origami medium to create that creepy white cat or some other creature. It consisted of a number of ramen bowls, categorized into basic, hot, cuisine and tonkotsu. There were also a few interesting sides including a breaded pork chop, gyoza and octopus balls. As usual, I ordered the gyoza dumplings and opted for the tonkotsu ramen. You have the option of three levels of spice, so I ordered the middle intensity. The soup was out in minutes, served on a tray with shichimi and pepper. It was a pretty soup, topped with finely slice scallions, bok choy, bamboo shoots, roasted pork, egg and a fishcake. The broth was a vibrant, milky white contrasted by specks of red indicated that some heat would ensue. It had a balanced taste with a bite (definitely don’t go level 2 if you don’t like spice) that didn’t overpower the dish. In fact, there was no prevailing flavour which made for a nice base. The liberal use of scallions really helped the soup and the other ingredients, including the noodles, were cooked properly.
Tonkotsu Ramen $10.95
Unlike the other ramen houses I have been to, the Gyoza came after the soup. I choose an order of three as opposed to the full order. When they arrived I realized why there were blinds were on the windows. They were housing Gyozilla, the largest Japanese dumpling I have seen in a restaurant. I felt feeble as I lifted my puny chopsticks to battle my pork filled foe. Although a little greasy, they popped with flavour, especially when coupled with the tangy sauce on the side. I eventually won the battle, but it took three or four bites each to do so.
Gyozilla Dumplings $4.50
My Take
Kenzo is like a B movie, offering one of the largest cast of ramen bowls in the downtown core. While other ramen houses have fancy decors and lines out the door, Kenzo is modest in appearance and appears to have a devoted following (there was a steady stream of people the whole time I was there). Relatively speaking, it’s almost unmentioned on urbanspoon. After conquering Gyozilla in an epic battle, I did feel a bit like Anthony Bourdain in a Walter Mitty sort of way. Having seen the octopus balls at another table, I’d come back for the sequel, this time turning my attention to Oodako, the giant cephalopod which ravished villages in the B movie classic King Kong vs Godzilla. My chopsticks are ready.
BarVolo got me thinking about what I was doing in 1985, the year it was established. I was a 12 year old elementary school student whose diet consisted of cooked ham on white, apples and a thermos full of fruit drink. The highlight of my school day was sniffing copies of handouts from the ditto machine like a drug addict.
Here’s a few other food things that happened in 1985
James Beard died at the age of 81.
New coke was released only to be scrapped later the same year, spawning the old but new Coca-Cola classic.
James Dewer, inventor of the twinkie in 1930, died.
BarVolo is a small brewpub located near Yonge and Wellesley. There are a handful of tables and a bar area that stands 15 comfortably. It has a vibe of a old schoolhouse, the centrepiece a large blackboard boasting over 30 types of beer (and a couple of wines and ciders) ranging from house brew to hearty stouts and porters. Otherwise, you can order well over a hundred bottles including some rare and expensive choices from the cellar. They don’t take reservations, so you leave your name, slink up the bar and hope for the best. A look around at the crowd suggested that I was among the 5 or 10 people in the entire bar that was probably alive in 1985.
One of my highlights is the fact that they serve 6 different cask ales including their own black ESB. It was a good punch in the mouth although the aftertaste was a little acrid. Next, in homage to my daughter, I ordered the house ale swag out (imperial stout with swag). As an uncool parent, I have been instructed that I cannot use the words YOLO or swag in any context at any time. She never said I couldn’t drink it though. It turned out to be a killer version of a great winter beer. The 8.5 percent alcohol was subdued by the intense malt and hop flavour. Great balance.
When you ask for food, you are handed a laminated menu and a pen to check off any of the many menu offerings. It consists mainly of snacks and nibbles including cheeses, pates, terrines and charcuteries. Condiments are also available for a price. You can also grab one of a half dozen sandwiches if you want. I opted for a taste of each of the major categories, which they arranged on a platter. Included were smoked duck sausage ($5), clothbound cheddar ($5.50), venison terrine ($5), a brooklyn’s finest pickle ($3) and peanut bacon fudge ($5). I also ordered some hot trap mustard on the side ($1.50). It was a delightful mix of taste and textures. The duck sausage was melt in your mouth delicious. The pickle was spicy with a distinct crunch. The cheddar was firm and salty; a true reflection of an artisan cheese which deviates a bit from the original. The terrine was decent but didn’t burst with the cherry and nut flavours I was promised. The sourdough bread (from nearby Woodlot) and mustard were wonderful compliments, nicely adhering the diversity of tastes on the plate.
I ordered the fudge because it was the only thing that slightly resembled a dessert on the entire menu. Whether it was the contrast of the sweet against the salty and sour flavours of the rest of the plate or the fact it was just delicious fudge, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The specks of bacon scattered among the sweet yet savory peanut flavour just worked.
Platter with pickles, mustard, venison terrine, fudge, duck sausage and cloth bound cheddar
The fish board was equally delicious. Smoked salmon, trout and pickled herring were served with a FANTASTIC horseradish sauce and a unique but delicious slaw that I’m still trying to figure out. The pickled egg and beans added some nice acid to the board.
Fish Platter $18
My Take
BarVolo is a great venue for those who want a little food with their beer (which includes 6 casks and a number of house brews). That said, the grub is far from substandard although some may be reluctant to pay $3 for a pickle and a buck and a half for a ramekin of mustard (sounds like a lyric from the Tragically Hip’s Little Bones in a time where Gord Downie still had hair and most patrons were still in diapers). There’s a spectrum of menu items packaged in bite size and sharable morsels which can appease a solo diner or a table of 6. The biggest issue is whether a table of 6 is even possible. The place is small and doesn’t take reservations, leaving those waiting to frolic in a holding tank the size of new coke’s popularity. It’s more crammed than cozy. Plus, I get a tad annoyed when establishments boast about how big their lines are on facebook and twitter, especially when they don’t have the greatest means of dealing with them.
Although 1985 produced some nasty and forgettable things, barVolo wasn’t one of them. Despite the fact that it’s inundated with clientele who weren’t exposed to Reaganomics or the Flames’ only Stanley cup win, there was some solace when a trio of 60 something hipsters walked in, looked at me and likely wondered if I was alive the last time the Leafs won the cup. Regardless of whether one can relate to Pierre or Justin Trudeau or anybody in between, those who appreciate good beer with salty snacks (I didn’t try the sandwiches) will enjoy barVolo. After all, the small confines physically don’t allow for a generation gap anyway. YOLO, right?
Fare..Eat..Ales 