I feel like we've been stalking restauranter Hanif Harji for the past few years. We swooned over Blowfish and Kultura, and when we heard from some downtown furniture designers that they'd been involved with Harji's new venture, we just had to hightail it over to Colborne St.
The new Colborne Lane has cool sophistication down pat. Once past the front doors I feel like we are not in Toronto anymore. The space is expansive yet feels cosier upon walking further into the dining area. Exposed wood beams and ducts give it rawness, and the modern and witty lighting adds playfulness without being too sleek. This design sense seems to flow hand in hand with Harji's sense of customer service. Staff here, just like at Kultura, are ultra professional and nice. Nice? In Toronto!?
Tonight the Reluctant Chef and I are dining with the Sybarite and the Connoisseur. We're excited to get together again and to see if we'll be allowed to laugh and talk during our meal! (see Opal, below) Everyone but the Connoisseur has read something about this place and Joanne Kates's review was the most effusive. We are always a little skeptical of Kates; looking around, the Connoisseur notes it's the "post-review" crowd.
Plates are small and the waiter recommends 3 per person. Prices range from about $10 to $26, reflecting the ingredients, not the portion size. The Reluctant Chef pounces on the lobster bisque; after all, this is one of his signature dishes (he is the reluctant chef after all, and has maybe 3 total dishes in his repertoire....oh, he's going to hate me for this!). As noted by Kates, the very interesting bowl (the dishware is impressive) is brought with the solids, then the waiter pours the bisque tableside. This is nothing new, but perhaps for Toronto it is. Yes, the bisque is aromatic and intensely flavoured, but not purely lobster-flavoured. There are tons of tastes at play: the coconut-scented tofu, curried mussels, and oxalis leaves. We have no idea what they are, but apparently they are also known as wood sorrel and have a sour-lemony taste. They certainly spiked the bisque. But right from the start, the Reluctant Chef proclaims that there are almost too many flavours fighting for his attention. This is an interesting counterpoint to our experience at Cava, where the flavours are fewer but more pointed, and never fail to add to the overall experience.
The Connoisseur proclaims the lobster seviche as too mellow. He follows this with the flash-fried squid, which is served with some tropical fruits (pomelo and mango), carmelized peanut, chinese sausage, asian pear and peppercorns. Unfortunately, the peanut overwhelms the entire dish. Lentil soup is also poured at table and according to the Sybarite, it's delicious. The two of us also have the lobster seviche, which is really quite a beautiful dish and we are not so quick to write it off. Saffron potato beds are just right; they don't overwhelm the lobster. Overall, I think the presentation is fantastic and the flavours are interesting, but feel it's hard to coax too much flavour from the lobster itself. The Sybarite feels it's flavourful enough for her, which just goes to show that we are each slaves to our own taste buds and have to trust Joanne Kates with some things (except of course, when she talks up her favorite chef friends).
The Connoisseur orders the pork loin but gets the triple-seared beef tenderloin instead. Oh well! It's a mistake, but when food is this good, no dish is really a mistake and he eats it good naturedly. Reluctant Chef also has the pork loin. His main complaint is that there is so much going on in this dish, yet it's such a small portion that he can't fairly get a good grip on the taste. To be honest, it does appear quite small, even for someone with as tiny an appetite as myself: two coin-sized pieces of pork. But again, the presentation is marvellous. I have the lamb ribeye with olives and mint chutney. The carmelized eggplant is amazing; I've never tasted such a powerfully smooth eggplant. The cumin rosti, though very good, pales in comparison. The Sybarite has nothing but praise for the rock hen breast and the chorizo-fig stuffed thigh, with lovely little gnocchi served with harissa and salsa verde.
The must-have dessert is the cheese plate. Not only is the presentation great - yet again - but the choices are plenty and interesting. The spice loaf is certainly spicy, served with thai chili ice cream, a nod to molecular gastronomy. There is a bit of interesting science going on in the kitchen, but it is not front-and-centre and you may notice that I have not talked about it at all. That's because it's done with elegance and style; it enhances the dishes and does not overtake them.
The wine list is short and to the point. Many are available by the glass and it's fun to have several different glasses. It's pleasant to veer away from the 20-page wine list - isn't that a bit excessive? I'm not a wine snob; I just want something that goes well with my food.
Now here's the best for last: there is no apparent closing time. At about 11pm a huge group of Raptors walk in and sit down to dinner. It might be a special accommodation, and maybe it is, but then again, on Colborne Lane's web site the kitchen is open from "5pm - close." We walk out of Colborne Lane impressed with the service, the space, the food and its presentation.... and the Reluctant Chef feels he has just missed walking out hungry by a microscopic-thin hair.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Waiting for La Lawyer's Refutation on Herbs
Just read Joanne Kates' review of Herbs. This is one of la Lawyer's favorite neighborhood haunts, but who knows how it's been doing over the years. I am waiting to see if she will accept a guest review plea.... everyone cheer her on! We want to know what the regulars think.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Cava
When James Chatto came out with his list of best restaurants to open in 2006, Cava made the top of the list. Now, we'd been to Cava a few times so Chatto's choice jumped out at me. I hadn't given much thought to the 'best of 2006' and decided there was only one thing to do: go back to Cava.
The Reluctant Chef and I were there last week and I'll just say it right upfront: yup, it deserves Chatto's unequivocal approval. The space is spare, simple, with a nod to a traditional Spanish bar with charcuterie hanging about. The attention is all on the food, deservedly so. I think that by now, we've had everything on the menu. Following are some dishes that stand out. (Oops! After reading this entire post, I realize that I've probably listed most of the dishes on the menu! I suppose that speaks for itself.)
The sablefish (black cod) is probably the most outstanding dish on the menu; it simply melts on your tongue and the black rice and escarole is a magnificent pairing. Although this is a restaurant for sharing, this is the one dish everyone should order for him or herself. Clams with chorizo may be a typical dish, but this one is perfect. How can you eat Spanish without having salt cod? Fantastic. A plate of charcuterie is essential. We also have the pinchos of avruga and avocado; these are basically little bruschetta. Avruga sounds sexy but it's simply herring roe. A lovely "common" touch, and what an unusual and fantastic pairing with avocado. The fennel and apple salad is refreshing, spiked by little green picholine olives.
In previous visits, we've tasted the watercress and beet salad, which was also nice and served with almonds - something I wouldn't have thought of. We have had the octopus - really tender; and the swiss chard with pine nuts and currants. Yes, the chef certainly knows how to pair ingredients that perfectly complement each other and bring balance, yet still surprise the palate. I loved the quail because it was so unusual: filled with chicken. Tamals are filled with corn and wild mushrooms. What a way to take up this very common dish a huge, huge notch.
This visit, we order the albondigas (meat balls) with saffron-almond sauce and they turn out to be my favorite meat dish. The sweetbreads are the Reluctant Chef's fav, of course! Lest you think the RC is easy on sweetmeats because he loves them so - it's not true. He does order them everywhere he goes, but his opinion is that Cava's are one of, if not, the best he's had. Venison anticuchos are an Andean skewered meat dish - very tender and we're surprised with the "Spanish" spices (what are they all?) By this time, I can't possibly eat any more, but the RC also manages to devour the entire pork belly with buckwheat noodle and potato and cabbage gratin. Phew! Good thing we didn't order the soup: caldo gallego, which is a thick, heavy lamb stew. Next time.
The wine list is really, really affordable, but follow the namesake and have the Cava! As for dessert I want the dessert tapas, but we order the Ybarra chocolate cake and with just one taste, I mysteriously forget all about being full and self-control flies out the window.
Aside from the food, the best thing about Cava is the service. I remember Avalon and the expert, efficient and haute service. At Cava, things are much more relaxed but no less professional. I can't state enough how absolutely great the wait staff is at Cava.
Many have tried, and many have failed to get the right balance of casual yet high end, inventive yet restrained, exuberant yet polished -- with the menu, the service and the experience -- consistently. That's why Cava was Chatto's choice and why it's going to have a long life on the Toronto restaurant scene. That is, until Chris McDonald decides to re-invent himself again.
The Reluctant Chef and I were there last week and I'll just say it right upfront: yup, it deserves Chatto's unequivocal approval. The space is spare, simple, with a nod to a traditional Spanish bar with charcuterie hanging about. The attention is all on the food, deservedly so. I think that by now, we've had everything on the menu. Following are some dishes that stand out. (Oops! After reading this entire post, I realize that I've probably listed most of the dishes on the menu! I suppose that speaks for itself.)
The sablefish (black cod) is probably the most outstanding dish on the menu; it simply melts on your tongue and the black rice and escarole is a magnificent pairing. Although this is a restaurant for sharing, this is the one dish everyone should order for him or herself. Clams with chorizo may be a typical dish, but this one is perfect. How can you eat Spanish without having salt cod? Fantastic. A plate of charcuterie is essential. We also have the pinchos of avruga and avocado; these are basically little bruschetta. Avruga sounds sexy but it's simply herring roe. A lovely "common" touch, and what an unusual and fantastic pairing with avocado. The fennel and apple salad is refreshing, spiked by little green picholine olives.
In previous visits, we've tasted the watercress and beet salad, which was also nice and served with almonds - something I wouldn't have thought of. We have had the octopus - really tender; and the swiss chard with pine nuts and currants. Yes, the chef certainly knows how to pair ingredients that perfectly complement each other and bring balance, yet still surprise the palate. I loved the quail because it was so unusual: filled with chicken. Tamals are filled with corn and wild mushrooms. What a way to take up this very common dish a huge, huge notch.
This visit, we order the albondigas (meat balls) with saffron-almond sauce and they turn out to be my favorite meat dish. The sweetbreads are the Reluctant Chef's fav, of course! Lest you think the RC is easy on sweetmeats because he loves them so - it's not true. He does order them everywhere he goes, but his opinion is that Cava's are one of, if not, the best he's had. Venison anticuchos are an Andean skewered meat dish - very tender and we're surprised with the "Spanish" spices (what are they all?) By this time, I can't possibly eat any more, but the RC also manages to devour the entire pork belly with buckwheat noodle and potato and cabbage gratin. Phew! Good thing we didn't order the soup: caldo gallego, which is a thick, heavy lamb stew. Next time.
The wine list is really, really affordable, but follow the namesake and have the Cava! As for dessert I want the dessert tapas, but we order the Ybarra chocolate cake and with just one taste, I mysteriously forget all about being full and self-control flies out the window.
Aside from the food, the best thing about Cava is the service. I remember Avalon and the expert, efficient and haute service. At Cava, things are much more relaxed but no less professional. I can't state enough how absolutely great the wait staff is at Cava.
Many have tried, and many have failed to get the right balance of casual yet high end, inventive yet restrained, exuberant yet polished -- with the menu, the service and the experience -- consistently. That's why Cava was Chatto's choice and why it's going to have a long life on the Toronto restaurant scene. That is, until Chris McDonald decides to re-invent himself again.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
The Japanese get Imperialistic about their Food
In this weekend's Globe & Mail, I read that the Japanese government's Food Service Industry Office is planning to promote a "seal of approval" for Japanese restaurants outside of Japan. According to the article ("Don't tell us what to do with our SkyDome roll", by Christopher Maughan), the rules don't appear to be completely worked out yet, but the idea is to offer an authenticity recommendation (a sticker) if a restaurant passes tests on the quality and origin of its ingredients, the presentation of its dishes, even decor and service. If the establishment passes, it will be recognized as "authentically Japanese".
Okay, everyone knows that if you're not in Japan, it's not authentic. Just like dining on Italian, Armenian, Greek, French, Spanish - you name it - outside of those countries, it's NOT AUTHENTIC! When have you ever had an "ethnic" meal, even in touted celebrity chef restaurants, that tastes just like the meal you had on a misty-topped mountain somehere in Japan, or in a medieval village in Tuscany? If I want authentic, I book a flight.
Okay, everyone knows that if you're not in Japan, it's not authentic. Just like dining on Italian, Armenian, Greek, French, Spanish - you name it - outside of those countries, it's NOT AUTHENTIC! When have you ever had an "ethnic" meal, even in touted celebrity chef restaurants, that tastes just like the meal you had on a misty-topped mountain somehere in Japan, or in a medieval village in Tuscany? If I want authentic, I book a flight.
Tappo: A Distillery Hot Spot
In Italian, tappo means cork, a charming name for the stylish new wine bar in the Distillery. But it's also a restaurant and owner Armando Russo has done a great job in combining the two concepts.
Architecturally it's an amazing space. Spacious yet intimate, the rough stone walls reach several stories and old pieces of machinery lend a feeling of history. The bar stretches across the entire north wall, with a mirror that reflects the scene across from it. Speaking of scene, it feels genial and it becomes obvious that many patrons know each other. We too ran into a few people from our building. There is ample space between the bar and the tables for people to gather, mingle and sip wine, whether they are waiting to be seated or not. There is never a feeling that the bar or restaurant are encroaching on each other. Armando and his staff handle the patrons like pros, with warmth and friendliness. It is their effort - the way they set the tone - that makes the atmosphere so intoxicating.
There is a lot of focus on daily specials. Some of the choices that jump out at us are lobster tails with linguine; wild boar with spaetzle; and monkfish saltimboca. The Reluctant Chef is never reluctant when it comes to foie gras; that being the appetizer special, he orders it without hesitation. It is a very generous portion of goose liver on a bed of strawberry risotto. Crispy outside, melted inside - orgasmic. [Or so he says;) I couldn't see beneath the tablecloth!] I have the tricolore salad, which frankly, is a bit lame. First, the portion is ridiculously generous. Second, the presentation is beyond rustic. I am not expecting high falutin' or contrived presentation, but this is actually so disappointing it's funny. I break out in peels of laughter when the waiter comes to take our plates away and asks with a knowing wink, if I've had enough salad. This night we skip the pasta, but there are several on the menu that I'll return for. The rest of the menu is comprised of piatti tipici: all manner of veal, from scalloppini to chop; lamb; steak; seafood. I order the linguine with lobster tails. For $35 I get three tails. The value cannot be beat. But I am not the type to trade value for quality. I would prefer two tails expertly done, rather than one done perfectly and the other two a bit tough. Now, I understand that this may vary according to one's personal palate. The Reluctant Chef enjoys the tougher lobster tail whereas I like mine to melt in my mouth. Other than that, the dish is very good - not exotic, not stunning, not unusual - just well-done typical Italian fare. Reluctant Chef has the wild boar; it is truly delicious and spaetzle just the way I like them. Wine choices abound - a very Italian list, as to be expected.
It's time for dessert and we are almost too full to indulge. Ignoring our stomachs, we capitulate to our watering taste buds and split an almond and ice cream cake. This is a must-have. Decaf coffee is a disappointment; it is thin and tastes a bit like tea, of all things! The waitress shows me the individually-wrapped coffee package so that I know it is not their brewing technique but the head waiter tells her immediately to take it off our bill. By this time, I am ready to leave because my eyes are stinging from some smoke coming from either the kitchen or the fire 'pits' outside the front doors. I have a feeling it is from the kitchen and the doors are propped open to let it out, but it's hard to tell what's happening. No one else seems bothered!
All in all, Tappo has uncorked the secret to a happening place in the up-and-coming Distillery District. Now, if only they can solve the problem of billowing smoke...
Architecturally it's an amazing space. Spacious yet intimate, the rough stone walls reach several stories and old pieces of machinery lend a feeling of history. The bar stretches across the entire north wall, with a mirror that reflects the scene across from it. Speaking of scene, it feels genial and it becomes obvious that many patrons know each other. We too ran into a few people from our building. There is ample space between the bar and the tables for people to gather, mingle and sip wine, whether they are waiting to be seated or not. There is never a feeling that the bar or restaurant are encroaching on each other. Armando and his staff handle the patrons like pros, with warmth and friendliness. It is their effort - the way they set the tone - that makes the atmosphere so intoxicating.
There is a lot of focus on daily specials. Some of the choices that jump out at us are lobster tails with linguine; wild boar with spaetzle; and monkfish saltimboca. The Reluctant Chef is never reluctant when it comes to foie gras; that being the appetizer special, he orders it without hesitation. It is a very generous portion of goose liver on a bed of strawberry risotto. Crispy outside, melted inside - orgasmic. [Or so he says;) I couldn't see beneath the tablecloth!] I have the tricolore salad, which frankly, is a bit lame. First, the portion is ridiculously generous. Second, the presentation is beyond rustic. I am not expecting high falutin' or contrived presentation, but this is actually so disappointing it's funny. I break out in peels of laughter when the waiter comes to take our plates away and asks with a knowing wink, if I've had enough salad. This night we skip the pasta, but there are several on the menu that I'll return for. The rest of the menu is comprised of piatti tipici: all manner of veal, from scalloppini to chop; lamb; steak; seafood. I order the linguine with lobster tails. For $35 I get three tails. The value cannot be beat. But I am not the type to trade value for quality. I would prefer two tails expertly done, rather than one done perfectly and the other two a bit tough. Now, I understand that this may vary according to one's personal palate. The Reluctant Chef enjoys the tougher lobster tail whereas I like mine to melt in my mouth. Other than that, the dish is very good - not exotic, not stunning, not unusual - just well-done typical Italian fare. Reluctant Chef has the wild boar; it is truly delicious and spaetzle just the way I like them. Wine choices abound - a very Italian list, as to be expected.
It's time for dessert and we are almost too full to indulge. Ignoring our stomachs, we capitulate to our watering taste buds and split an almond and ice cream cake. This is a must-have. Decaf coffee is a disappointment; it is thin and tastes a bit like tea, of all things! The waitress shows me the individually-wrapped coffee package so that I know it is not their brewing technique but the head waiter tells her immediately to take it off our bill. By this time, I am ready to leave because my eyes are stinging from some smoke coming from either the kitchen or the fire 'pits' outside the front doors. I have a feeling it is from the kitchen and the doors are propped open to let it out, but it's hard to tell what's happening. No one else seems bothered!
All in all, Tappo has uncorked the secret to a happening place in the up-and-coming Distillery District. Now, if only they can solve the problem of billowing smoke...
Cajun Corner: Gumbalicious!
The Reluctant Chef's secret addiction is Creole food. He would happily exist on shrimp po'boys, gumbo and fried chicken - hold the side of okra, please. So it was with the utmost pleasure that he announced one day last week, that he had found a little piece of heaven north of the 49th parallel. That place is Cajun Corner on Queen Street East, between Logan and Carlaw.
Now, I've walked by this little heavenly outpost many a time, but its storefront didn't pull me in. It looked like a somewhat disorganized pile of packaged products decorated by reams of Mardi Gras beads. Of course, had I known they sold Cafe du Monde coffee, I would not have had to make convoluted arrangements to have it shipped in bulk to a friend in Manhattan, who would then sneak it across the border once or twice a year! So now I've got a piece of heaven and a silver lining.
As soon as we walk into Cajun Corner, we are bowled over by the smell of blackened catfish. Never mind that it actually smells carcinogenic, we're hooked by the shelves of products on our left: Scorned Woman BBQ sauce and floor-to-shelf-top hot sauces. In fact, I have a good story about the hot sauce, which reminds me that I had heard of this place before the Reluctant Chef discovered it. A friend of mine - let's just call her Bohemian Babe - liked to grab a snack or an occasional lunch at the take-out counter. One day, she decided to be bold and tried a particular hot sauce. The label said: Use at your own risk. We cannot take responsibility. She disregarded the label and hasn't been able to stomach creole food since. Lesson learned.
The catfish po'boy is delicious. It's crisply fried in a cornmeal batter and completely tender on the inside. Rice and beans are reliable, but the sweet potato frites are a bit on the oily, soggy side. What's more amazing is that this dinner costs about $6. We take our meals to go, but there are a few small tables if your gullet can't wait.
Items are made on a daily specials basis: gumbos, both chicken and seafood; crab cakes; crawfish pistoles; peppered or blackened catfish; pecan-roasted pork, and more. Let's put it this way: from our humble little meal last week, I am pretty confident that these guys are creole pros. So I'm going to keep eating their food and if I don't like something, I'll let y'all know.
Culinary treat: Every weekend they serve chicory coffee (Cafe du Monde) and fresh beignets. A little piece of heaven indeed.
Now, I've walked by this little heavenly outpost many a time, but its storefront didn't pull me in. It looked like a somewhat disorganized pile of packaged products decorated by reams of Mardi Gras beads. Of course, had I known they sold Cafe du Monde coffee, I would not have had to make convoluted arrangements to have it shipped in bulk to a friend in Manhattan, who would then sneak it across the border once or twice a year! So now I've got a piece of heaven and a silver lining.
As soon as we walk into Cajun Corner, we are bowled over by the smell of blackened catfish. Never mind that it actually smells carcinogenic, we're hooked by the shelves of products on our left: Scorned Woman BBQ sauce and floor-to-shelf-top hot sauces. In fact, I have a good story about the hot sauce, which reminds me that I had heard of this place before the Reluctant Chef discovered it. A friend of mine - let's just call her Bohemian Babe - liked to grab a snack or an occasional lunch at the take-out counter. One day, she decided to be bold and tried a particular hot sauce. The label said: Use at your own risk. We cannot take responsibility. She disregarded the label and hasn't been able to stomach creole food since. Lesson learned.
The catfish po'boy is delicious. It's crisply fried in a cornmeal batter and completely tender on the inside. Rice and beans are reliable, but the sweet potato frites are a bit on the oily, soggy side. What's more amazing is that this dinner costs about $6. We take our meals to go, but there are a few small tables if your gullet can't wait.
Items are made on a daily specials basis: gumbos, both chicken and seafood; crab cakes; crawfish pistoles; peppered or blackened catfish; pecan-roasted pork, and more. Let's put it this way: from our humble little meal last week, I am pretty confident that these guys are creole pros. So I'm going to keep eating their food and if I don't like something, I'll let y'all know.
Culinary treat: Every weekend they serve chicory coffee (Cafe du Monde) and fresh beignets. A little piece of heaven indeed.
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