toronto – Page 3 – Fare..Eat..Ales

Hearing Stories at Mamakas While Wondering if Mikey, Despite his Ancestry.com Results, Will Like it.

January 9, 2016 spennyrdLeave a comment

I’m fascinated by the latest round of ancestry.com commercials. In particular, there is one where some middle aged guy, after thinking he was German for 50 years, went onto the website and found out he was Scottish. In addition, he seemed quite happy about exchanging the lederhosen for a kilt. I have a problem with this. If I found out that I wasn’t the nationality I thought I was after 5 decades, I’d be pissed. Immediate questions like “Did we have a Scottish mailman or a nanny?”would pop into my head. I would also have a frank discussion with my parents about the significance of properly relaying important information, such as where the hell I came from , to my siblings and I.

That said, there are times I wish my family history was a little more exciting. I’m at least a third generation Canadian so ties to my homeland are as faded as memories of the last time England won the World Cup. I’ve mentioned before that my mom has always been a good cook but it would be a stretch to say she was authentic. Her cabbage rolls, for example, are stuffed with precooked hamburger, minute rice and parmesan cheese. I have longed to be able to latch onto a culture and call it my own, especially from a food perspective. After a rather boring diet for the first 20 years of my life, I finally was able to experience authentic ethnic food. I remember working with a doctor from Thailand who introduced me to the first Tom Yum soup I’ve ever had. To this day, it is etched in my brain as one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Most culture’s foods are quite ubiquitous now. Even in sleepy towns like London, Ontario, there is a surge in the availability of international fare. Toronto is like a diner’s Disneyland, allowing any of us to be Korean, Indian or Jamaican for a day.

In other words, I’m a little jealous of people with well rooted histories and stories from the old world. Narratives of Sri Lankan perusing markets selling fresh mangosteen or eating carnitas in the alleys of Mexico city sound far more exciting that chasing the Dickie Dee guy down the street to get one of those ghost shapes ice cream bars with the frozen, tooth-cracking gumballs in the middle of a luke warm day in Sudbury. What overcomes the jealousy a bit is when I dine with them and get to see and experience the pride they have in their culture’s food.

Specifically, when it comes to Greek food, my experience was limited growing up. The Apollo was the main gig in town and I rarely went. At home, my mom didn’t know what a greek salad was. Since then, I’ve hit a number of Greek places through my triple D expeditions. Usually, these traditional eateries are pleasantly tacky, often decorated with blue and white colours, flags and pictures of architecture of the homeland hanging on the wall. I’ve also come to realize that every second diner, even if it doesn’t serve souvlaki (although it usually does), is owned by a Grecian. In fact, a Greek friend of mine owns a sports bar in London and I can bet on two things; good food and continuous reminders that, as opposed to England, Greece has won the Euro Cup whereas England’s World Cup win was even earlier than the last Leaf’s Stanley Cup victory.

I was surprised to hear a Greek place would harbour itself along Ossington, one of the more volatile and finicky streets on the whole Toronto dining map. That said, it keeps getting rave reviews. I was particularly interested to go since I was with a couple of colleagues who in some way have Grecian ties . I knew I would be treated to narratives which would nicely compliment some of the dishes that came out and would be a little more exciting than mine which involve the fact that my kids really like my horribly predictable (but decent) chicken souvlaki dinner.

The decor is less tacky than most Greek places and was actually fresh and bright, especially for an Ossington joint. It was bustling but there were no worries because they actually take reservations. It had wine that night so I can’t comment on the cocktails. Despite the fact that Greek wine is not as renowned as some it’s chest pumping European neighbours, Mamaka’s stick to their heritage by offering krasi of all types (about 15 white and red options) and price points ranging from $45 to $120. We opted for the $45 Sofos organic and the $60 Kidonista whites. Although neither were the best whites I’ve ever had, they were as crisp and clean as the joint itself and well worth the reasonable price.

The first lesson from my table mates was that among the many dips available in a Greek restaurant, taramosalata is a better choice than tzatziki. Made with fish roe mixed with other traditional Greek ingredients like lemon and oil, it has a pink hue and is quite salty. It was served with cucumber and pita. It’s a bit of a surreal spread and seemed synonymous with marmite from my British roots.

I didn’t need a lesson to understand the significance of octopus in Grecian cuisine but I did need one to understand Santorini fava. My knowledge of fava beans include their cameo in a Hannibal Lecter speech in “The Silence of the Lambs” and from my dietitian training in which I learned that they fact they cannot be consumed by segments of the world’s population due to favism, a genetic disorder in which there is insufficient glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase in red blood cells, leading to acute hemolytic anemia. Ironically, many Greeks carry this genetic abnormality which also protects from malaria . That said, Santorini fava has nothing to do with fava beans. In fact, it is similar to a hummus made with yellow split peas and flavoured with onions (in this case pickled…soooo Ossington) and capers. This dish was delightful and a nice change from the potato and olive combo which seems to accompany the mollusc everywhere else.

mamakas octopus — Octopus with Santorini Fava $20

Once again, through stories at the table I was transported to a large Greek family dinner featuring Kokoretsi, a lamb offal sausage complimented with skordalia (a garlic potato taste). I was told stories of a grandmother, who did not want to waste a scrap of food, working meticulously to season and stuff everything into an awaiting casing with great success. Although I’m not a lamb fan, I couldn’t complain…it tasted like I was there.

For a side we had tiganites patates which were fries topped with a little feat, egg and spicy sauce. In other words, it’s Greek poutine. As I’ve said before, it’s hard to mess up fries and I will eat an egg on anything so I wasn’t disappointed.

My Take

Mamakas proves that Greek food can be as funky and cool as their Korean, Cuban or Vietnamese neighbours. This restaurant breaks the mold of predictable, diner-like atmospheres and instead offers a cool and sleek vibe. The food includes standard fare such as lamb and spanakopita but also transforms traditional but lesser known dishes into modern small plates which still emphasis the concept of family style dining.

I often go to medical conferences (which would perhaps discuss glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase) but don’t usually participate in the guided poster presentations which provide audio commentary to accompany the visual data. When it comes to dining, however, I’m singing a different tune. Listening to my colleagues reminisce about family gatherings rooted in old world traditions in the context of Mamakas decor, vibe and food makes me want to declare myself a culinary pyromaniac, break dishes and scream “Opa!” at the top of my lungs for at least a few hours before reverting to my sullen, ale-swigging distant English eating habits.

In the end, I’ve realized I don’t need ancestry.com. Being a United Kingdom mutt allows me to be a bit of an impartial chameleon when it comes to the diversity of cultural food choices out there. I think restaurant owners perceive there is as much a benefit in appeasing the clueless white guy as there is members of the ethnicity they represent. I feel I’m kind of like Mikey form the iconic life cereal commercials as many of the chefs anxiously stare at me wondering if, after a short period of consideration, I will like it.

Lessons from Tarantino: Hipster Hyperbole and the Dichotomy of Ossington’s Omaw

January 4, 2016 spennyrdLeave a comment

One of my favorite films is From Dusk to Dawn, a joint project between Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. I particularly like the fact that the movie has two distinct components. The first half is the cerebral Tarantino and the second the crude and visual Rodriguez with the switch occurring the minute they enter the Titty Twister.

I just went and saw the new Tarantino film, his eighth feature film aptly named “The Hateful Eight”. As usual he is the subject of scrutiny, this time accused of misogyny. Continually criticized for his use the N-word in his films including the latest, New York Times writer AO Scott states that “At a certain point, the N-word gives way to the B-word as the dominant hateful epithet, and ‘The Hateful Eight’ mutates from an exploration of racial animus into an orgy of elaborately justified misogyny”.

I’ll be the first to admit that Tarantino’s sanity is sometimes up for debate, but I will make the argument that his extreme use of violence and language is a form of modified hyperbole. In Django unchained, for example, the N-word is muttered 110 times (which in some cases is equivalent to a Drake song which seems to be acceptable). That said, the movie’s protagonist is black and ends up blowing the shit out of everybody and riding into sunset at the end. I contend that the constant and nauseating use of the word to the point of absurdity creates an immunity that is actually less offensive than if was used only once in a specific situation during the movie. As for misogyny, Tarantino has a history of strong female protagonists in his movies including Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown and Kill Bill. Jennifer Jason Leigh’s character in the Hateful Eight is far from a victim even is she is shackled for the majority of the three hour film.

Omaw, the newish Matt Blondin on Ossington serves as a tribute to southern snack food. The place is already getting a few nods by the experts so I was keen to test the authenticity of the ode. It was a good start when the menus were presented alongside a a small bowl of a classic southern snack, boiled peanuts. A little less geographically accurate was Oregon’s Dead Guy Ale on tap but I wasn’t complaining. The offerings, served from a very open and central kitchen, ranged from a bit fancy to a bit roadhouse….. all arranged and served in small sharing plate formats.

This is where I get back to my From Dusk to Dawn reference. The first half was Tarantino smart. We started with the aged waygu with beef fat vinaigrette, onion tops, pea relish and coffee. Second was cured flounder (which I believe is no longer on the menu) finished flavoured with parsnip milk, horseradish, almond oil and granola of grains. Third was the shredded kale salad with smoked sturgeon, garlic, jalapeno and cornbread vinaigrette. Each of the dishes were dainty and delicate which fit the Ossington St. mold but was a bit off the beaten path in relation to Omaw’s theme of southern fare.

Aged Waygu $16

Cured Flounder $12

Shredded Kale$13

The second part was Rodriquez crude. This included the fried chicken skin with tabasco, pepper and lime and the kentucky fried squid with white bbq, collard greens, salt pork and watermelon rind. Neither was remarkable, especially compared to the extravagant cold plates served earlier. In both cases, any complex flavour to the dish was minimized by the overwhelming taste of the deep fryer.

Kentucky Fried Squid ($14)

Fried Chicken Skin $7

The key lime pie was also dichotomous; a combination of old and new. The pie itself was a classic example of this southern staple. It was complete with a tart curd and crumbly crust. It was topped with that crispy, wafer lkie meringue, something that still hasn’t grown on me.

My Take

I think many Toronto restaurants, including Omaw, exhibit elements of hipster hyperbole which I define as the use of gross exaggeration in any or all of the Zagat trifecta; food, decor or service to hipsterize the overall experience. Examples include application of the iconic Kentucky fried concept to squid, interiors which overemphasize the arts of parquetry and masonry, the lack of capital letters on menus and waitstaff who carry as much angst as they do ink.

As much as the Tarantino/Rodriguez divide makes sense in From Dusk ’til Dawn, it makes less sense in the case of Omaw’s menu. Sure, cold was served before hot but the fact the greasy snack food was saved for the latter half of the meal made little sense. It was a bit like going to a house party and after the homemade apps are done, the guests bring out the M&M party pak to finish things off. It was far from the Wedding at Cana.

In the end, Omaw is as authentic a southern eatery as The Hateful Eight is an bone fide Western. That said, through other projects, both Matt Blondin and Quentin Tarantino respectively have earned the creative licence to bend the rules a bit. In addition, Omaw fits the blueprint of an Ossington addressee and therefore some flexibility to do whatever it wants regardless of the theme.

This got me thinking that if Mr. Tarantino decides to do another feature film maybe it can called “The Wining Nine”. Nine hipsters can sit around a table talking nonsense for a couple of hours until Leonardo DiCaprio’s character says something Jake Gyllenhaal’s doesn’t like, resulting in Ryan Gosling’s hitting him in the head with an empty bottle of Zinfadel. The ensuing blood storm attracts Samuel L. Jackson as a shot gun toting anti-urban zombie who, after reeking havoc, recovers his bad mother fucker wallet from a pool of hipster blood. Or course with this would come with media allegations of hipster hatred (dogmatry or dogmogyny perhaps?) in addition to the bigotry and misogyny Tarantino supposedly exhibits already. It’s clearly fictitious, however, because nobody could possibly dislike a hipster, right?

Fring’s: Let’s Just Say I Wasn’t Yelling HYFR Afterwards

December 28, 2015December 29, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Susur Lee has continued to expand his mini empire by securing the old Crush wine bar space. Instead of opening another Asian-themed eatery, he has teamed up with entertainment icon and fellow sixite Drake to try and bring high end comfort food to the city’s streets.

I’m not sure why this new enterprise has been named Fring’s. I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with Torsten Frings, the German midfileder who played 33 games and scoring 2 goals with the Toronto FC only to retire after requiring surgery and returning to Europe to coach in his home country. Perhaps it’s an homage to the trademarked side available at Harvey’s, Canada’s own fast food restaurant. A combination of about 3 onion rings and six or so fries, it is the ideal accompaniment for the indecisive. Maybe it’s the name is a term coined by Champagne Papi to describe the merging of two fundamental components of Drake’s brand, friends and bling, into one happy milieu.

The decor is also a milieu; in this case a trendy industrial style mixed with a cheesy VIP lounge. Brick walls and wooden window panels combined with fuzzy if not hairy lounge seats with marble tables means both a downtown ambiance and a nightclub aura.

After being seated, we were greeted by our waiter. The slick hair, glasses and demeanor screamed hipster but I questioned his authenticity as he was trying way to hard. Like most other restaurants, he gave us the recited speech explaining the proper process for ordering off a sharing menu. His entire demeanor seemed scripted as well, especially when we heard him deliver the exact same speech, in exactly the same way, to the table beside us.

I’ll admit part of the reason I came here was to have the ability to report back to my daughter who is a massive Drake fan. So, it goes without saying that my first question to the waiter was “What would Drake drink?”. He quickly answered that his the pop icon’s favorite drink was the Tom Skudra ($18), a rum based cocktail with a mix of juices, mint and raspberries. I’ve taken to doing google searches on cocktail names and found that Tom Skudra was a Canadian photojournalist who passed in 2007 and best known for TV series called Programme X in 1970. That said, the drink also went along with the ongoing joke that, whether I try or not, I usually end up ordering the girliest looking which is usually pink (mostly the result of my affinity for Campari) and this was no exception. Unlike a Campari drink, however, it was exceptionally sweet and somewhat resembled a daiquiri. I was left wondering whether the waiter was lying through his teeth or Drake has a reeeealllll sweet side I don’t know about.

Nothing says comfort food like toast so what better to start with than some homemade ricotta with jalapeno plum jam and pomegranate ($10). It was presented nicely and in Susur fashion, was an explosive blend of flavours and textures.

Next was the steak tartare ($20). I was expecting a bit more of the aforementioned taste and flavour explosion but it fell a little flat. The presentation, usually rather extravagant on a plate that anything to do with Chef Lee, was uninspiring. Plus, if they put egg on the octopus dish; why not a little on the tartare!

The southern spicy maple fried chicken ($26) seems all the rave by reviewers across the board but then again, any fried chicken seems to be. Some will argue that the art of perfecting this comfort food is an intricate as a souffle while others say it’s pretty freaking hard to mess it up since it involves deep frying something. I adhere to the latter. I’ve made a few batches in my day and although some have been better than others, none have really been bad. There was nothing wrong with the chicken at all. It was crispy on the outside, moist and the middle and adequately seasoned. The sauce was good as well. All I’m saying is I can get a bucket of KFC with 8 pieces, popcorn chicken, fries, gravy and two salads for about the same price. Am I saying that KFC is a good as Susur’s fried fowl? Not at all. I’m just trying to point out that I might expect a little more for $26.

frings chicken — Southern Spicy Maple Fried Chicken $26

I find a burger an excellent benchmark of a restaurant. The burger is a canvas for creativity, the variations are endless and the price point can range from a few dollars to a few hundred. The Susur burger, served with JK fries, comes in at a hefty $24, which is more than other iconic burgers in the city including Richmond station ($21), Marben ($19) and Harbord Room ($19) and wasn’t anyway close to as good.

frings burger — Susur Burger with JK Fries $24

At this point, I begged the waiter for a drink a little more manly than the Tom Skudra and preferably not as pink. He suggested the Waste Man ($18), a cocktail with brandy, chamomile bitters and peach. Although one might expect it to be sleepy (get it?..chamomile) this was a good strong drink more reflective of the 6God’s brand.

For dessert, I went with the waiter’s recommendation for the overpriced warm plum tart served with creme fraiche and almonds ($14). It was a bit chic and a bit homey, both of which aligned with the general theme of the place but otherwise was average and contained a whole lot of pastry and not enough plum.

My Take

From a pop culture perspective, the marriage of Drake and Susur Lee makes perfect sense. Much like Chef Lee’s fusion cooking, bringing two variant entities together often results in spawn which are both unique and exciting. Unfortunately, this was not the case with Fring’s. Instead of being an innovator, it seems like Chef Lee is following trends which include cheese topped toasts , burgers and comfort foods like fried chicken. Not only are they average from a taste and presentation perspective, they are astronomically priced. The cocktails, steak tartare, fried chicken and burger are at least $4-5 higher than similar drinks and dishes at comparable Toronto eateries. The service was robotic.

In the end, I just expected two of the most innovative minds in Toronto to dream up something a little more exciting. The cocktail list is overly fruity and juicy and the drinks have boring names. I mean, any Drake song would make a cool cocktail name. Take “Teach U a Lesson”‘ “Worst Behavior” (come Drake..you’re Canadian…add a u) and “Star67″ for example . The food is uninspired.”Big Rings” would be like a great side to a burger that can be bigger, better and cheaper. Even some “Pound Cake” for dessert would work. There’s no tellin’ what the future holds for Fring’s but it’s too expensive and may get boring really fast. After all, I sure as hell didn’t leave yelling HYFR down King street after I left.

Hello, Why Alo is the Adele of Toronto’s Dining Scene.

December 26, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Adele is a refreshing change to the music scene. In an industry filled with nauseating pop tracks and the flavour of the week singers, Adele’s haunting voice reminds us that there is still hope, even in 2015. I’m not one that tried to get concert tickets for the four Toronto shows she sold out in minutes but I’ll admit if I’m flipping through my Sirius radio and “Hello” comes on I’ll leave it and say hi right back.

A common misnomer of the names of Adele’s albums (19,21 and 25) is that they represent her age when they were released. In fact, they reflect her age during production (this may be a way to win a pint during Adele night at your local pub). For example, her latest album, 25, was released when we was 27. “Rumour has it” that future albums will not follow this trend.

I listened to a bit of an Adele town hall and was surprised how down to earth she is. She’s British polite but at the same time could likely hang out with the Gallaghers (the English ones) from Shameless. Her album 21 was inspired as she listened to music her bus driver played as she toured the American south while she chain smoked (a habit she has recently quit). That said, she cites numerous other influences toher career ranging from Ella Fitzgerald to the Spice Girls (she was apparently traumatized when fellow ginger Geri Halliwell left the group).

I bring up Adele as a metaphor to the Toronto dining scene. Food trends are as volatile as musical ones. People in the 80’s were happy eating bananas foster, cherries jubilee and baked Alaska while listening to Thriller or waiting for the next Madonna single. In the last couple of years, both music and food have become a bit flash in the pan, probably to appease the minute attention span of those in generation X. Bands are now judged by singles and not albums and it’s hard not to confuse Walk the Moon with the Imagine Dragons. At the same time, Toronto’s dining scene has been driven by spur of the moment snack foods and small plates and compared to other entertainment-heavy metropolitan cities like San Francisco, Chicago and New York, and tasting menus are somewhat scarce.

Alo has burst onto the scene with the promise of bringing back the tasting menu while at the same time not jeopardizing the foodie’s right to choose. Stacked with well known names in Toronto’s culinary scene with Patrick Kriss at the helm, it has opened to great accolades including a bold endorsement as the city’s best new restaurant by the Globe and Mail’s Chris Nutall-Smith.

Instead of writing about the minutiae of each of the many dishes, I figure I’d pay homage to the music industry and do a top ten list of things you need to know about Alo complete with the top 10 songs on December 26 2015 vs Boxing Day 1985.

10. Location (Like I’m Going to Lose You- Meghan Trainor vs Sleeping Bag- ZZ Top)

Hidden between the entertainment district and trendy Queen West, its location is both convenient and a little odd at the same time.When I say hidden, I’m not kidding; I felt like an amazing race contestant looking for Jon Montgomery’s smiling face. The only way to identify the entrance is a keen eye for a tiny sign or a good GPS. In fact, the first question you are asked upon arrival is “Did you find the place ok?” Plus, you need to take an elevator to get to the dining room.

I find myself humming this in my car one day……”Alo’s on the other side, I must’ve passed it a Thousand Times”.

9. Decor (Same Old Love- Selena Gomez vs Small Town- John Mellancamp)

A short elevator ride up a few floors opens into a swanky but simple bar stocked with a number of premium spirits just waiting to turned into a number of trendy cocktails. A few steps forward and the small but open kitchen, cramped with bustling white coats becomes visible. Beyond that is the smallish seating area which has a casual yet classy demeanor. The waitstaff, donning ties tucked into their crisp white shirts are busy circulating the grounds with a fluid flow. Not quite posh and not quite rustic, the decor is simple and despite the small space patrons have plenty of room as the tables are nicely spaced. Even the serving dishes were chic and modern but not extravagant.

I will also put clientele under decor as there were definitely an array of patrons present. I think the couple beside us were on their third or fourth match.com date and she was working really hard to impress him with her culinary knowledge but it fell as flat as a bad souffle. Equally entertaining was a really angry looking man sitting at the end of the chef’s rail who sat stoic for the duration of the meal. On the way out we saw him speaking to the chef so I suspect he was of the mercurial members of Toronto’s dining scene. Those chefs roll deep you know.

8. Drinks (Here- Alessia Cara vs That’s What Friend’s are For- Dionne Warwick and Friends)

As mentioned, there is no shortage of premium cocktails available at Alo. I started with the Longchamp ($14), a simple and smooth bourbon based creation which hits all the notes of a classic sipping cocktail. They also offer a reasonably priced wine list and stick with the bigger, more recognized brews such as Kronenbourg and Blanc De Chambly as opposed to the numerous and trendy craft beer in the area.

7. Choice (Stitches- Shawn Mendes vs I Miss You- Klymaxx)

Like stated in countless other reviews, Alo features a 5 course tasting menu for $89. Perhaps what’s most unique about this is the fact that there is a choice for each of the 4 savory courses (plus the mid-dessert) as opposed offering either a standard menu for everybody or only an option for the main protein. They even set the stage for such free will (maybe it’s a question like when you are testing an audience response system) by offering a choice of a blue or white napkin . It was rather odd but memorable.

6. Surprises (The Hills- The Weeknd vs Election Day- Aracadia)

There are quite a few surprises during the Alo dining experience. At this point I will insert my SPOILER ALERT disclaimer in the event you want the true element of surprise:

Deux Amuse Bouche. You are immediately treated couple of small souffles (I’d call them crackers) garnished with a garlic aioli. With the re-emergence of the tasting menu comes the resurrection of foam emulsions in the form of the second amuse, fennel, olive oil and citrus. It was a bit heavy on the oil flavour little light on the citrus.
In what I think is a first, the bread is actually served (complete with house churned butter) as a course. It was rich and buttery and reminded me of a sinful cousin of a croissant.
When I asked for directions to the washroom the waitress looked pleased to be able to assist. I was somewhat confused as she led me through the bar to a black wall until she pointed to a magic door which opened into the hidden lavatory area. Yes, I am amused easily.
I rarely order tea at dinner but for some reason I had the desire to do so. Once again, the waitress seemed pleased with my request and promised to return with the tea box. When she opened it, I felt like a leprechaun that had just found a pot of gold. A dimly lit screen confidently describe each tea which was housed in a small, transparent container. It was a little classy and a little cheesy but another example of the incredible attention to detail theme of the evening.
In a nice touch, you are provided with a wax-sealed envelope at the end of the night which contains the menu for the evening.

5. Food (Love Yourself- Justin Bieber vs Separate Lives- Phil Collins/Marilyn Martin)

Instead of reviewing each individual dish, I will summarize by saying the food was good but not mind-blowing. I think it can best be described as rich and earthy with proteins which included snails, mushrooms, duck, fois gras and pork. There were also some options from the sea including halibut, salmon and lobster. Even with those, the earthiness was maintained with the use of ingredients like sunchokes, truffles, potatoes and artichokes. The proteins were cooked beautifully except for the duck which was overdone. If anything, some of the dishes were lacking acid and seemed a bit unbalanced but some of that may have been the way I ate them. For example, I found the first bite of the mushrooms very single-noted until they were mixed a little more thoroughly with some of the other ingredients and became a delicious forest porridge.

Snails

Lobster

Mushrooms

Pork

Salmon

Halibut

Duck

4. Foie Gras (What do you Mean- Justin Bieber vs Alive and Kicking- Simple Minds)

I would always choose lobster over foie gras but the latter was the standout dish of the night. It was smoked which perfectly balanced with the fattiness of the liver. I only had a bite and truly regretted not ordering it as my starter.

3. Dessert (Hotline Bling- Drake vs Party all the Time-Eddie Murphy)

There is no dessert listed on the menu so ever before any hint of the final course, you are asked if you would like the optional cheese plate ($15). In the name of adventure we agreed. The featured fromage was Five Brothers, the delicious signature cheese from Gunn’s Hill in Woodstock and was served with fruit, honey and crackers. We ordered two plates was plenty for the four of us. Around the same time, we were asked our choice for the mid-dessert; dark, milk or white chocolate. We joked that, being the token Caucasian at the table, I was obligated to order the white chocolate. I went dark. Expecting the the chocolate right after the cheese, we instead received a small bite consisting of parsnip and espresso instead. It was fantastic. Afterwards the waitress, hearing our earlier conversation, brought both the white and dark chocolate to the table for me. Each was unique in its own way and even the white chocolate was quite good. Thinking the meal was done, a third dessert arrived in the form of an earl grey parfait (which retrospectively makes sense since she did say the chocolate would be a mid-dessert) arrived at the table. It was like some of the savory dishes in that it had to be eaten with a game plan. The ice cream itself was not strongly flavoured with earl grey unless you were sure to include some of the candied bergamot it was garnished with in each bite.

Cheese

Earl Grey Parfait

White, Milk and Dark Chocolate

2. Price (Sorry- Justin Beiber vs Broken Wings- Mr. Mister)

When all was said, the price with a few drinks (no wine) before gratuity was $135/head. The cheese itself was $15/plate. However, given the fact that it took nearly 5 hours and there were technically 11 courses means you if you are on a date you don’t need to worry about doing or spending anything after. The portions are small and the purists would argue that it is probably overpriced but when I consider the whole experience I didn’t think it was too unreasonable and I left stuffed.

1.Service (Hello- Adele vs Say You, Say Me- Lionel Ritchie)

Although these points are not necessarily in rank order, it would be remiss if I did not put service at number one. In fact, I cannot think of a time in recent memory when I have had a better service experience in the GTA. The flow of the meal was spot on. Among the numerous staff members who served the table, all were highly professional and explained the components of each dish with great precision. The addition of the white chocolate based on a short conversation at the table was, well, the icing on the cake.

My Take

Alo has successfully resurrected the tasting menu in Toronto by offering a combination of good food and incredible service. Add a few surprises and you are left with a truly memorable experience. The foie gras and innovative dessert courses were the highlights of the menu. The attention to detail, from the tea box to the take away menu, is unmatched.

In sticking with the music analogy, Alo is like a good album. Not every song is a blockbuster but collectively it’s great listening. You feel the experience instead of just doing it. In other words, in an environment filled with countless eateries which mimic the flash in the pan tendencies of American idols, youtubers and one hit wonders, Alo may in fact be the Adele of Toronto’s culinary scene.

Mr. Flamingo, Mr. Featherstone, Mr. Pink and Ms. Sitherwood all in an Avian Mating Dance Orgy

December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

Flamingos are one of the more recognized avian species in popular culture. Whereas the bald eagle is synonymous with courage and nobility, the flamingo is a bit more mysterious and is often associated much less stoic characteristics.

The Flamingo hotel, for example, is the longest standing (and probably cheesiest) hotel on the famed Las Vegas strip. Afterall, it is decorated with pink shag carpets and a live wildlife habitat featuring the namesake birds.

“Pink Flamingos” was a low budget movie directed by John Waters, the odd director who brought us the original cult classics “Hairspray” and “Serial Mom” was notorious for working with even stranger actors and actresses like Divine, Traci Lords and Ricki Lake.

Although not entirely related, when I heard the name of the restaurant I couldn’t help of think of Mr. Pink in Reservoir Dogs . In what I would argue is the most famous Tarantino restaurant scene after the five-dollar milkshake in Pulp Fiction, Mr. Pink, played by Steve Buscemi, goes on a rant about the concept of tipping, arguing that it should not be an automatic gesture (he must have visited a few places in Toronto’s west end along his travels).

On the small screen, flamingos, along with other Florida vestiges such as fancy cars, jai alai, dog racing, beaches and boobs were prominent in the iconic opening credits of Miami Vice. Speaking of televisions shows, the short lived prime-time soap opera called Flamingo Road starred Morgan Fairchild and Mark Harmon dealt with the frantic and fast-paced lives of elite Floridians.

All of this said, perhaps the most recognizable use of the pink flamingo in popular culture is the plastic lawn ornament. Primarily used to signify key life events (like a 50th birthday let’s say), this tacky accessory was first produced by Don Featherstone , an employee of the union plastic company in Massachusetts. This achievment was significant enough to have him recognized in a New York times obituary the day after his June 22, 2015 death. Here are a few interesting facts about the pink flamingo:

They were initially offered in the late 50’s sold for $2.76/pair in the Sears catalog.
In 1999, the city council of Madison, Wisconsin voted the plastic flamingo, coined Phoenicopterus ruber plasticus by Featherstone himself, as the city’s official bird.
In the 2011 Disney film “Gnomeo and Juliet”, there is a flamingo named Featherstone which is an interesting twist given the well- established competition between the gnome and the pink bird for cheesy lawn ornament supremacy.

Probably the oddest use the Flamingo is the Quebec food company whose catch line is “an excellent source of fun”. First, the primary foodstuffs produced by the Flamingo company are poultry products which is just weird. Second, I don’t equate the consumption of chicken burgers as fun, yet alone an excellent source of it.

All of this said, I can only speculate as to the rationale behind Mr. Flamingo’s name. I think some would speculate that the bird symbolizes the simple yet swanky theme of the restaurant. The menu consists of small plates which in many cases contain upper echelon foods such as oysters, fois gras and truffles.

Although, I would almost expect a cocktail to be named after Mr. Featherstone ,I couldn’t find one so I ordered the bourbon based Ms. Sitherwood ($14) instead. The first page of a google search identified Ms. Sitherwood as the Chief Executive Officer of The Laclede Group although I have no idea if that’s relevant at all. It was served in a dainty glass adorned with mint leaves. The general vibe of the drink was a sophisticated but not mind-blowing long island ice tea ($14).

Before I go into the food choices, let me say that the staff were extremely accommodating. The menu prices listed on the web are for a specific portion but they were more than happy to modify the portions and prices in some cases (eg. oysters and scallops) so that everybody had at least one piece. Futhermore, they split the bill in 5 and printed one out for each of us. These things seem simple but can be surprisingly hard to find among many Toronto eateries.

Since we had a fairly large table, we were able to order most of the menu. First on the list was the steak tartare ($14) served with a quail egg and chips. It had a symmetrical and pretty appearance and its moderate spice was driven more by pepper than other heat sources.

The burrata ($16) was served with a gorgeous tomato salad. The cheese was seasoned nicely and had a beautiful texture similar to that of a soft boiled egg; firm on the outside and runny in the middle.

The lobster based oysters ($3.50/piece) wouldn’t have been my first choice but they fit the swanky theme of the place. The lobster hollandiase had a sweetness and creaminess which nicely offset the salty and not over-cooked oyster, making it a decent bite.

Based on other reviews, the scallops with popcorn puree and sea asparagus ($22.50 as shown) could very well be their signature dish. It hit all the elements of such a dish; the scallops were cooked properly, the puree was divine and the sea asparagus added the colour, texture and taste needed to balance everything out.

2205 — Scallops with popcorn puree and sea asparagus ($4.50 each)

The trout was another tasty dish but at this point the menu was getting a bit monotonous as many of it’s elements were near identical to the previous two (oysters and scallops), adhereing to the theme of well cooked protein plus rich sauce plus green vegetable.

On paper, the mushroom risotto topped with shaved truffle may have been the pinnacle of Mr. Flamingo’s swanky small plate experience. Although I’m not generally a risotto fan, I appreciated the avoidance of truffle oil as an excuse for fancy flavoring. It was a nicely prepared dish but was still highlighted by rich flavours similar to many other items on the menu.

The duck and steak were both nicely prepared but not unlike anything you can get at any other restaurant in the area. It seems almost mandatory that these dishes appear on menus, prepared and seasoned the same way and served alongside the rather predictable sides.

Duck

Steak

After a meal in a place named after a suave and sexy bird serving oysters and truffles, I expected some kind of lavish desert. Instead, the sole offering was a donut with a sparkler in it. It was a rather carnival ending to an otherwise posh meal.

My Take

I may have missed my calling as an ornithologist so I’m never upset when I can eat at a place named after a feathered friend (yes I must admit I like eating some of them as much as I like watching them). After my dining experience, I can’t say I was as excited as the majestic flamingo during its mating ritual but it was still a decent meal.

Mr. Flamingo offers a mix of the standard sharing plates seen in a lot of the area’s eateries with the addition of a few unique ones, in particular the scallops with popcorn puree. In general, the majority of the menu is a bit monotonous in flavour though. Overall, it was a good experience, highlighted by above average service starting with the fact they will actually split a bill, a fact that may even convince Mr. Pink to throw a few bucks on the table after all is said and done.

Hanmoto: May possibly be the Crown Royal Northern Harvest of New Toronto Restaurants.

December 13, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

The faceless Chris Nuttall-Smith just published his top 10 new Toronto restaurants. Not surprising, Alo tops the list and other clear favorites including Buca Yorkville and Dandylion made the cut as well. Perhaps a little more surprising was the inclusion of Hanmoto, the little and unorthadox izakaya joint hidden just outside the intersection of Dundas and Ossington (it’s on Lakeview Avenue however which, like the Lakeview Diner a block away, doesn’t have a view of a lake).

As Mr. Nuttall-Smith writes (in words much more eloquent than mine), it has no sign and has the aura of a flea market where you are not sure if you will get a great deal, bamboozled or stabbed with a sushi knife. The menu is as primitive as the make shift signs you would see advertising dollar persimmons along Spadina avenue.

I went with a few friends a while back as stage one of an Ossington food crawl. Arriving at 530 or so ensured that there no wait for one of the few makeshift tables scattered among the curio-filled hollow . The waitress was a pleasantly non-nonsense woman who had a fantastic grasp of the small menu. It seemed fitting to start with the somewhat famous arisaka sour, a gin based cocktail flavoured with yuzu, green tea and cucumber and finished with soda and lime bitters. It was quite refreshing but a bit flimsy so it was evident I had to switch to beer to avoid downing 8-10 of them before the end of the meal.

The tiny menu meant little deliberation and the table agreed on the hamachi tartare, the moto bun, the enoki, the masu dengaku, okra and famed dyno wings .

The tartare was nicely balanced from both a texture and taste perspective and was served at the correct temperature. The moto bun was a fun and flavourful twist on a sloppy joe and was next to impossible to share with the table. That said, I’m always appreciative of a bun that can withstand the assault of a sloppy filling for the duration of consumption.

Hamachi Tartare $12

Moto Bun $7

The enoki with miso butter was a surprisingly simple take on those mushrooms you see at the Asian food marts and don’t know what to do with. Their texture with, when combined with the miso butter is somewhat reminiscent of a fat laden piece of steak.

The masu dengaku was an oddly attractive eggplant dish made pretty with fried beets and seasoned with a delicious miso hollandaise.

Enoki with Miso Butter $7

Masu Dengaku $8

Each of the previous dishes did not shy away on extreme flavours but the crispy okra blanketed with bonito flakes and asiago (a very saline and odd combination) was a miss. We casually passed the dish around the table like a hot potato and there were no takers.

Finally, it was time for the fame chicken dyno chicken wings served in the signature take out box. These wings, stuffed with a pork dumpling, have already attained mythical status in snack food folklore and the label is deserving. The dumpling offers both stark contrast to the crunchy mouth feel of the deep fried wings yet both flavours are married with the sweet and salty sauce.

My Take

I’m a sucker for a good gimmick and there are no shortage of them in the restaurant industry. I was all over the Yakatori bar on Baldwin (which now ceases to exist) and I’m the guy who rushes to Harvey’s after not going in years to get my hands on a somehwat revolting pop tart ice cream sandwich. From the seedy surroundings to the focus on nothing by snack food, Hanmoto itself is a gimmick but one that gone from the exception to the rule in the hipster driven expanse with an Ossington epicentre.

It seems Mr. Nutall-Smith is also enamored by a good gimmick. In his review of Hanmoto, he forgives any hiccups (ie. farmed vs wild salmon) by saying that it’s not that type of bar. It seems his opinions are driven by the fact that the booze drives the food and not vice versa which I disagree with given the rather sleepy cocktail list and predictable beer choices. Don’t get me wrong..he is brilliant writer and one of the first people I go to for an objective opinion on a new restaurant but I’m left wondering if including Hanmoto on the best new Toronto restaurant list is synonymous with Jim Murray’s choice of Crown Royal Northern Harvest Rye as the world’s best whisky. Maybe I can meet him halfway but saying the dyno wing is one of the top 10 must-try new dishes in Toronto in 2015 but even in my relatively limited exposure to novel eateries, I won’t go as far as generalizing the dish to the entire experience.

Han Ba Tang- Still Drawing the Short Straw Years after Toughskins and Crooked Haircuts

December 12, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I had a dismal month of blogging in November, primarily due to the fact that my real job gets in the way when it’s busy. I hope December is better. Speaking of busy, the every day trails and tribulations of life lead one to fall into rhythms of the present. Aided by facebook, which has seemingly rewound time and made friends of the past friends of the present, I made a commitment to myself to reconnect with some of these friends and personally I see no better way to do it than over a bowl or plate of something.

I was a small, quiet kid who had a crooked haircut and wore Toughskins, which were corduroy pants with reinforced knees meant to withstand the harsh treatment an 8 year old had to offer. I didn’t understand why people laughed at “Taxi” and why that old man Edward Woodward was scary as “The Equalizer”. I liked when my mom brought me to the hotel bar down the road from my grandmother’s house because I could eat all the maraschino cherries I wanted. I went to a tiny school in Sudbury so whether I liked it or not, I had to hang out with a small group of people…in Sudbury. I got the hell out as soon as I could and somewhat lost track of 90% of those in my past life until Facebook. Now, I have reconnected with historical figures in my life ranging from elementary school to university.

It seemed totally logical to meet a friend I haven’t seen in almost 30 years at Han Ba Tang, A Korean joint in North York (I keep thinking it’s called Hang Ten after the company with the big foot slogan that kids cooler than me wore although we lived no where near waves bigger than those made from a 20 HP motor on Lake Ramsey). What drew me to this place was not the easy to remember name ( I forget it every time) but the fact that it scores one of the highest ratings on Zomato. That and the fact that 2015 appears to be the year of Korean food in Toronto and I wanted to compare it to Korean Cowboy and other similar eateries scattered across the GTA. Plus, we both decided that we should have something that didn’t exist in our Sudbury days where Asian food was limited to sweet and sour chicken balls at the Pagoda.

I arrived, went to the bar and ordered the Caesar on fire. The twist was the addition of jalapeno soju. I was tempted to ask the bartender for ID since he acted like a teenager. This perception was aided by the fact that he opened up a recipe book and meticulously measured every ingredient into a Steamwhistle pint glass only to realize after the fact that he had no straws long enough for the glass. It was good but a full pint of caesar makes for a big drink so the flavours were somewhat diluted even with a short straw.

Dish one was the Kalbi salad ($10) which highlighted the short ribs in a forest of romaine, onions, bell peppers and an onion dressing. It was topped with some deep fried onion as well.

One cannot go to a Korean restaurant withour sampling the tacos so I ordered the spicy pork, kalbi and unagi trio. The shells were oddly shaped and the fillings was flimsy for $4-6 bucks each. Flavourwise, they were ok but overall the touted tacos were a bit of a let down.

The kimchi pancake was fantastic. Laced with bacon, mushroom and pepper it was browned perfectly which maximized both taste and appearance. It had great textural contrast as well.

I love rice cakes and Han Ba Tang’s were no exception. These were filthy good and reminded me of days of warming up a can of Campbell’s mushroom soup after school which was well in line with the evening’s theme of reminiscence.

Finally, we ordered the black calamari which was coloured with a roasted seaweed sauce,further seasoned with baby dried shrimp and garnished with cucumbers. The calamari was cooked well but it was little too much fish on fish flavour.

My Take

Before fall foraging became cool, Korean was all the rage which saw Han Ba Tang and other snack/bar food joints vault up the charts. Traditional soups, rice cakes, pancakes, tacos and wings are served with both a taste and an environmental twist. Instead of the flat surroundings of some the College street eateries, most of the new places offer fancy drinks, loud music and a very North American vibe. There’s a fun, thoughtless innocence to these places which is often exemplified by…let’s say naive bartenders who need a manual to make a drink. One can only imagine what would happen once the Karaoke machine goes full throttle and “Crystal Chandeliers” by Charlie Pride fills the air.

In the end, Han Ba Tang is a bit quirky, a bit trashy and a little fun. The tacos were a bit of a mess but otherwise the food was good and not too silly of a price. Although I don’t think it’s a 4.7 on zomato, it sure as hell beats heading to the Pagoda with a crooked haircut.

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.

Lunch at the Trump: Not Even Neil Diamond Would Come to This America

October 3, 2015October 4, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

I have fond memories of my grandparents and blame them for some of my suspicious musical preferences. Beside the rusty orange la-z-boy was an eight track player which sat atop a faux leather stand which housed a mix of country and adult contemporary music. I particular, I remember Neil Diamond. Even today, at the age of 74, Neil remains a stud in the music world. As a high school student, he would write poems for his male classmates so they could pass along to the ladies in an effort to seal the deal. He was a pre-med student at New York University and excelled at fencing. He has be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and some of his music remains among the most recognizable over the past 3 generations. I challenge you to go to any bar, wedding, Red Sox game etc. and not see a drunk crowd of anybody over the age of 25 not belt out the belt out the chorus of “Sweet Caroline” when cued. He also wrote “I’m a Believer” which any Shrek or Monkees fan would recognize instantly. In this context, I was reminded of Neil as a result of his epic song America in which he sings of an immigrant’s triumphant arrival to the U.S. with such lyrics as “Everywhere around the world, they’re coming to America,ev’ry time that flag’s unfurled, they’re coming to America”.

America recently replaced Stock at the Trump hotel and is a surprising partnership between two of Toronto’s biggest hospitality groups: Charles Khabouth’s Ink entertainment and restaurant juggernauts Oliver and Bonacini. As a result, one would expect lavish surroundings and trendy menu choices. I went for lunch as part of a meeting recently and ordered off the menu. There is a mix of items including soups, salads and pastas as well as daily specials ranging from lobster rolls to seared tuna. I fought the temptation to grab a mid meeting nap on the velvet banquette complete with comfy decorative pillows and ordered the wild and tame mushroom soup ($14) and america’s caesar salad ($16). I was appalled. The soup, described on the menu as “enough said” should have said “four mushroom pieces floating in a flimsy broth with no substance” or “mild and lame”. At least the Caesar salad had a more accurate description which simply stated “creamy roasted garlic dressing”. There was A LOT of dressing and the only other component other than the red romaine was a few “croutons” which were nothing more than a dried version of the same jalapeno corn bread that was in the basket on the table. In addition, I spoke to a few colleagues after and they were equally unimpressed. The tuna special was sleepy and the shrimp and squid tagliolini had the too long under the heat lamp look to it. One of my table mates asked for some Parmesan (I didn’t blame him) which seemed a bit insulting to the waitstaff. Other than that, although the service was pretty good, it was rather slow and inconsistent which was a far cry from the service I received in other areas of the Trump throughout the week.

My Take

Although it was in a different context, I enjoyed Stock when it was open. I was expecting that if anything, America would elevate at 31st floor of the Trump hotel to a new level. Instead, it seems to quality of the food has been comprised. Perhaps the dinner experience is better but I would have expected more from a $30 lunch. It was surprisingly more stagnant than it was stuffy and I left with a bad taste in my mouth…literally. In the end, Neil Diamond’s America is much better than Trump’s…and I like his hair better too.

Sweet Jesus: Stupid Conservatives and Singing Brewer and Shipley to Deal with Food Paparazzi and Grade School Art Projects

October 3, 2015October 3, 2015 spennyrdLeave a comment

When it comes to the latest trends in the food world, dessert is never left out. In fact, it seems to turn over more quickly than vegetables like kale and cauliflower. In the past few years alone, for example, we have seen the peak and trough of cupcakes and donuts. With the emergence of any of these trends, you can count on three things; a flurry of such shop openings on every street corner, a simultaneous spike in prices and people lining up to hop on the bandwagon.

The newest dessert trend is ice cream. Despite the fact it doesn’t travel really well, people are flocking to dairy bars across the city looking for the latest spin on the simple treat. The latest to throw their cone in the vat is Sweet Jesus. Located at King and John, this small space offers coffee and churros all day (I tried these as well and must say both the coffee and churros with cajeta was more than acceptable) and at noon the ice cream insanity begins. The crowd arrives and cramps into the small space while snapping pictures like they are stalking celebrities on the red carpet at the Bell Lightbox around the corner. I guess one cannot have too many photos of coffee bags and neon signs.

In order to calm my nerves in the midst of selfie sticks and indecisive foodies, I started humming Brewer and Shipley’s “One Toke Over the Line” in my head. This 1971 song cracked the top 10 in the US and Canada and was deemed a gospel song by Lawrence Welk despite the fact vice-president at the time Spiro Agnew called the duo subversive to the youth of America in another example of classic conservative naivety, stupidity and confusion. Regardless…it has a nice melody so I went to my happy place signing “It’s a joke that I am in line at Sweet Jesus” over and over again in my head amidst the chaos.

The menu is pretty simple. There are 4 kinds of soft serve available (marshmallow, vanilla, chocolate and raspberry lemonade) available for $3.75 in which you can have dipped for a dollar. There are also a dozen or so jacked-up, fancy cones for $6. You can also get a $4 Mexican popsicle if so inclined. I went with the lemon coconut cream pie which is exactly like it sounds. You order, give your name, pay (cash, debit or credit) and wait in the mob until your name is called. Each cone (the base being the old school cones you would get at any parlour) is carefully constructed like a school art project using squirt bottles (eg. for the lemon curd) and plastic containers (eg. for the coconut). In other cases, marshmallows are hand placed on the ice cream tower like Christmas decorations on a tree. It’s horribly inefficient and time consuming but I suppose it rumbles up the same internal thrill as watching Giuseppe make you a table side Caesar salad at a outdated Italian joint. The product itself was acceptable but far from mind-blowing and six bucks is way too much despite the American-like portion size. The soft serve itself was more icy than creamy and the toppings became monotonous quickly.

My Take

I don’t know why I partake in standing in line for food. I think it’s an attempt to try and understand the psyche of a foodie. I would love to do a brain scan to assess the part of the brain that glows red while one is standing in line waiting for the latest trend. I have never been a lover of crowds. Sweaty bars and mosh pits make me cringe as much as selfie sticks. I suppose if there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as a result it would be worth it but I couldn’t say that somebody’s B minus art project fits into that category. In the end, Sweet Jesus was not worth the hassle. The line was long, the setup was inefficient and the product wasn’t mind-blowing. The staff were nice though and I commend them for continuing to smile while the food paparazzi made ordering ice cream seem like a Drake sighting. For now, I’ll leave the soft serve to Costco and the art to my grade school son.