Enoteca Sociale

Enoteca Sociale

1288 Dundas West

Toronto, ON

●●●●●●●●●☺○

9 1/2 out of 10

Italian

Yes, 9 1/2, but that's only for the bread and pasta. Would that I could never eat anything besides these two things again. That's all that's necessary for happiness in life, I'm convinced - bread and pasta. In fact, if I'd passed out in my empty pasta bowl before the main course came my life would have been complete, except I wouldn't have gotten to try another half glass of exquisite Italian red. That's the other reason to come here - the wine list and nearly everything served by the half glass or glass.


This is the sister restaurant of Pizzeria Libretto on Ossington. Instead of pizza they do pasta. Sure they do meats and appetizers, but I don't care about those.

This place is going to be constantly packed. Apparently half the restaurant is given to those with reservations and the other half is left for neighbourhood foot traffic. So any given night you can get a table. Still, expect a wait, especially once the patio closes. Sit at the bar or at a table placed pretty close to your neighbour, and enjoy the trattoria experience. This is Italy. I never ate better than this in Italy. Never. Believe me, I tried.

So the thing is, I make a ton of pasta myself. I love my fresh pasta so much that after I'd made it for the first time I knew I could never go back to dried pasta, but I also thought I knew what good pasta was supposed to taste like. No, I was wrong, because Enoteca Sociale's pasta is what pasta is supposed to taste like. Their durum semolina is the most flavourful pasta-making miracle in Toronto. Better even than the pasta place at St. Lawrence Market. It's all about the flour/egg/oil combo and here they get it right. The thin, flat noodles of the pappardelle with braised rabbit were little bites of joy. The only mistake was that it came with a little bit of cheese (an unsalty parmiggiano I'd guess?) and I'd asked if there was cheese in the dish and they'd said no. But it's pasta. Of course there's cheese, and it's better for it. It makes something so simple into something sublime. The server begged to take the half-eaten dish back to the kitchen and get me a new one, but my main thought about that was that as much as I'd love another bowl of the heavenly stuff I couldn't possibly finish it and there was no way I was letting such a beautiful dish go to waste. There was a reason I'd eaten half a bowl of the stuff even though I can't digest cheese. Even taking leftovers is not the same. The cheese was perfect, anyway, and I think the rich wine cut through it nicely. It may have even been raw milk cheese because they have a lot of that on their cheese menu, and I didn't get sick. The rabbit gave a depth to the dish and brought out of the sweet flavour of the pasta itself. It was light, smooth, and every strand stayed separate. Better than a similar dish at Loire Restaurant on Harbord, but they're French, not Italian, so it's not their fault.

The other great thing here was the bread. It tasted like sourdough with a tangy flavour. Dipped in olive oil the earthiness of the cold-pressed fruit was heavenly with the tang. God forbid you eat this with butter. You could, but I'd be sad for you. It would be delicious, I know, but good quality olive oil is easier to find than good quality butter in Toronto.

The bread was not fluff bread, but it wasn't dense. The edges were crisp and the insides moist and pillowy when you chewed. I actually stopped the server and asked, "Excuse me, do you KNOW how good this bread is?" She packed three extra pieces in my to-go container of leftover cornish hen. I remember nothing about the cornish hen except that it was okay. I think the skin was under-crisp. I didn't care. I was still luxuriating in the memory of sourdough and semolina. I didn't need or want another piece, but just sitting there appreciating what I had just had was enough. It did remind me of a busy street on a Friday night in Milan, but that's only because I didn't make it that far south in Italy. This is not Northern Italian cuisine (Milan), though they do have wines here from all regions. Actually, their wines are offerings you won't find many other places. They're all exceptional examples of regional varietals. Have you ever had a gialla? A friulano? Not what you expect. I didn't order them but just the sight of them on the menu pulled me back to an afternoon in a wine shop (In Italy 'enoteca' can mean wine bar or shop or both. Usually a shop will have a bar where they may serve samples) in Pavia (south of Milan) where the owner opened a bottle of a local bottle of watery stuff while we listened to Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion, as well as other Italian standards. I'm sure the bottles here were of much higher quality.

I think I love this place because it's so very much Italian without any Toronto pretension. It's casual but with incredible service - so fast and efficient, but courteous and professional. It's affordable but with exquisite wines by the glass. There's a tasting menu but you could just get a simple pasta with a contorno (side dish) of squash with thyme, honey and butter (so rustic and autumnal) for a simple meal after work. It's more likely you'll end with some cheese (fresh local or specialty imported stored in the restaurant's own cheese cave at optimal temperatures, served on platters according to your own selections) from the enormous cheese menu than with one of the simple three desserts. A meal doesn't have to end sweet. At least not every day of the week. You're going to want to come here often, so at some point you'll not want chocolate. At that point you'll switch to cheese to add the final layer of the meal to your top of your stomach, like a layer of insulation against hunger. Now that's Italy. This is a reason to love Toronto.

416-534-1200
www.sociale.ca 

Loire Restaurant

Loire Restaurant
119 Harbord Street
Toronto, ON
●●●●●●●●☺○○
8 1/2 out of 10

French

I've been cooking a lot from Josée di Stasio's ode to modern French/Québecois recipes and food traditions, "A la di Stasio" recently. I've also been fortunate to eat at some of Montreal's French bistros and restaurants in the two years since I moved to the city from Toronto. Duck Confit shredded for an appetizer salad, or the entire crackling leg as a main. Cuts of meat braised for hours, placed atop mashed celeriac purée, the meat and plate drizzled with a sweetened balsamic reduction. Perfectly tender fillets of salmon or the Canadian, generally more sustainable replacements of rainbow trout or arctic char.

It seems that to find a good French meal in Quebec you need only put your nose in the air and walk in the general direction of baguette. In Toronto, this is not the case. While being so close to Quebec, it's incredible how little French food culture has permeated the city. Fine dining in Toronto has exploded in the two years since I've moved to Montreal, with great chefs, dining experiences, local food movements, farmers markets and an incredible variety of dining options presenting themselves. So it's surprising that the only obvious recent Quebec food invasion is poutine. Where is the foie gras? The paté? The terrine? Lardons? Cretons? Tarte Tatin? Pouding Chomeur? Sure, Toronto has a current love affair with pigs, too, but the line seems to be drawn at bacon, ham and BBQ ribs. Is there nowhere to get a tire d'érable (a 'pull' of maple syrup poured over a long counter of snow, and rolled up on a popsicle stick into a maple lollipop)?

So when I got back to Toronto after my two-year hiatus, I went looking for more French restaurants. Surely there must be something authentic?

Loire Casual Gourmet (119 Harbord Street, at Major) took a long route to Toronto - from France, not Quebec - but the restaurant would be an instant neighbourhood gem in Montreal. A small dining room gives a feeling of intimacy and the relaxed atmosphere justifies one third of the restaurant's name. The exquisite cuisine reflects another third, and the regional origins of the two owners, (Chef Jean-Charles Dupoire and Sommelier Sylvain Brisssonet) the final third.

I walked into this restaurant and felt at home. Immediately welcomed by the co-owner and M. Brissonet, who ran the floor that evening, I was impressed by the quiet confidence and pride I observed. I was walking into someone's home, and being treated as a guest. This was a place to respect.

The menu flavours change regularly, but the main ingredients remain the same; there will usually be mussels, oysters, goat cheese, fois gras and a charcuterie platter with house-pickled cornichons. That night's charcuterie featured pork rillette and chicken liver paté, while the PEI Mussels came with an exquisite lamb sausage broth. Sweet and smoky, it was the perfect start to a cool, damp evening. Empty mussel shells quickly scooped up the rich broth, since the perfectly French baguette (exactly what you will find in every French restaurant in Quebec, but nothing like the soft, dense slices found everywhere in Toronto, except at Ace Bakery) was not up to the challenge of absorbing such a treat.

A second appetizer of rabbit terrine was surprisingly light and refined. Gently-seasoned with fennel, and completely free of pork or cream, it was moist despite containing none of the fatty texture associated with terrine. The turkey-like flavour of the lean, protein-dense meat, however, became repetitive. Certainly after several bites there was nothing new to discover, and had it been any heavier, finishing it would have made the rest of the meal arduous. So there lies a balance in adding flavour without adding too much weight and richness. There is only so much simply-seasoned rabbit (or other white meat) that one wishes to eat. It tasted more like casual home-cooked comfort food than restaurant gourmet.

From the mains, the Loire burger and ultimate French dish, duck confit. The burger combined next-door-neighbour, Harbord Bakery's, challah bread, Quebec cheese, and a thick patty of New Zealand lamb (not Ontario? Not Quebec?). The lamb was simply seasoned with house-preserved tomato jam which happily replaced ketchup. In true bistro fashion the burger was accompanied by a large pot of fresh-cut fries. Beautifully cooked, nicely presented, straight-forward and honest cuisine.

The duck was a contemporary spin on the traditional confit. Shredded confit leg dotted the rich chipotle broth that enveloped the home-made tagliatelle. Four slices of seared duck breast were perched on the pasta. It was impossible to cut the breast without immersing it in the broth (to try to taste the flavour of the meat itself), but as it was a little past medium-rare, it benefited from the juice. While the broth was supposed to be seasoned with chipotle, there was nothing spicy or smokey about it. Fortunately, the duck breast and leg infused the broth with enough flavour , without even overwhelming the noodles. The person in the kitchen responsible for making such wonderful pasta should be given a medal, as the incredibly thin noodles were actually the second highlight of the dish. France has seemingly stolen the art of pasta-making from its Italian neighbour, and Toronto is the beneficiary. College Street's Little Italy has a few things to learn from the Loire Valley.

A very interesting and well-chosen wine list featured many lesser-known options from France (including several from the owners home Loire Valley, as well as unique Burgundy and Beaujolais gems) and a wide selection of Ontario wineries including Stratus, Tawse and Clos de Jordanne. The Clos de Jordanne Pinot Noir was dry enough to both not overpower the flavour of the duck and to complement the mild spice of the missing chipotles. It was unfortunately far too heavy for the rabbit, but if I wanted to match both I could have opted for two of the many exceptional wines offered by the glass at very reasonable prices ($9-$13).

Dessert again wavered between good and very good. The peanut butter mousse with vanilla ice cream was satisfactory. It became overly savoury from the peanuts and nothing in the dish could bring out the intricacies of the chocolate. Paired with a sweet coffee liqueur, however, the dessert would be spectacular. A specially offered plate of a selection of house preserves with fresh fruit was a much better end to the meal. Peaches and strawberries with fennel was like combining dessert and a traditional digestif of Pastis in one. It was almost too bad that it negated the need to order a liqueur from the carefully selected dessert wine menu of aged Ports, an Ontario ice wine, and a late harvest vidal. Of course, there is always the option of a plate of Quebec cheeses instead of, or before your digestif. Another example of tradition being comfortingly balanced with innovation.

After a wonderful meal, I am proud to say that Loire Restaurant is a little taste of France in Toronto. It is not trying to be authentic and traditional with every dish, but there is an obvious respect for food, a simple elegance in every dish, a gourmet honesty in the presentation, and a pride in the high quality of local ingredients that form the highlights of a meal in this high-calibre restaurant.

Expect to Pay: $45-$60 per person, including tax, tip, and a glass of wine
Hours: Tues-Fri 12pm - 2:30pm, 5:30pm-10pm, Sat 5:30pm-10pm, closed Sun-Mon
www.loirerestaurant.ca
416-850-8330

Ame Sushi

Ame
19 Mercer Street
Toronto, ON

●●●●●●●●●☺○

9 1/2 out of 10

Japanese

I would be completely happy if I died and found out that heaven is exactly what I experienced last night.

I went to Ame feeling very suspicious. When I left Toronto two years ago, the restaurant was still called Rain, and was known as a fine dining Toronto establishment. Since then, the same owners, Italian brothers Guy and Michael Rubino, have translated the restaurant name into Japanese and done the same with the dishes. Asian fusion is often the subject of culinary abuse. Authenticity is often under-rated. Ame, however, is a rare example of respect for another food culture. Each plate is a balance of Japanese ingredients, flavour, presentation and perfection. Ame's also thrown in a robata grill for good measure (the only one in Canada) and a Hawaiian-trained sushi master, but it's the incredibly high quality of every ingredient - fish, meat, and plum - that makes each drop of Japanese Rain feel like the most sensual touch.

I have only three complaints, and then I will again allow myself to be seduced by the chef's kiss in every sweet memory of miso.

In the incredible atmosphere of this restaurant - a subterranean, cavernous design - every detail of ambiance is intentional. The lounge and bars are sleek, yet lush and enticing. The lighting is dark, yet intimate. The effect is ruined, however, the moment you sit down and see in front of you a pair of stuck-together wooden chopsticks resting on a beautiful stone. The contrast between the wood and the stone is jarring. This is not a wooden chopsticks kind of restaurant.

Second, since Ame is not trying to be a traditional Japanese restaurant, I am not sure how to react to the sushi being served at the beginning of the meal, before the cooked dishes. Normally it would come at the end. The sushi list is even located at the beginning of the dinner menu, seemingly to encourage your sushi selection to come first. Not being Japanese I do not really see a problem with it. Just that if the restaurant is trying to follow the fine-dining Japanese restaurant trend set by Nobu et al in North America (what one may assume from the rest of the menu that features whole fish, ramen, pickled vegetables, seaweed salads and wagyu beef), customers expecting this kind of experience may question the restaurant's expertise. There is, however, nothing else at this restaurant that makes you feel like it's trying to follow another restaurant's example. Perhaps I misunderstand the Chef's intentions.

One fault that can't be overlooked is that the sushi rice was too sweet. Sweet seems to be the theme for most of the meal, and it works in every instance except the sushi. If the sushi were served at the end of the meal it may be less noticeable. With the completely traditional nigiri sushi options, the restaurant's sushi rice must be perfect to rationalize the incredible rating I want to give it. Having read the Chef's recipe for sushi rice on the Made To Order website (the Food Network show that the Rubino brothers host in Ame) it is clear that the rice is intentionally made sweeter and saltier than most versions by added mirin and extra salt, and by cooking the rice directly in a large amount of vinegar and sugar that is traditionally poured over the rice only when it has finished cooking in plain water with just a touch of sake. Since the sweetened rice was intentional, I can only say that I felt it was too much.


Finally, the miso flavouring of the Dungeness crab roll was too salty. This was the only other time (besides the sushi rice) that a flavouring was not perfectly applied and balanced. Though wonderfully free of Japanese mayonnaise, the salty miso mixed directly into the juicy crab flesh made the flavour of the crab itself unidentifiable.

Now I can remember what heaven was like. It got better and better, starting from happiness, moving to wonder, and on to the divine:

The Ontario trout and the mackerel nigiri were very good. Salmon nigiri is not on the menu and the choice to highlight the local trout (a less buttery, but prominent flavour) is impressive. Mackerel can be judged on a scale from "fishy" to "texture without flavour" to "delicious", and the slight pickling of the fish (though there was certainly no taste of vinegar or lemon) placed this version a respectable two-thirds of the way up the scale.


Salmon belly sashimi (not trout, in this case) artfully came with a dot of miso to flavour the fish and a pile of delicately-vinegared noodle-like daikon. The refreshing radish was a good palate cleanser to bring out in each bite the flavour of the salmon. Upon first tasting the salmon I was disappointed, but I had just tasted the trout and found them too similar. After a mouthful of daikon the salmon began to make its case.

The tuna sashimi was not amazing. In fact most average Vancouver sushi restaurants would match or better it, but the miso dashi reduction was incredible. The sweetness of the sauce did not swallow the flavour of the fish, and somehow the tuna ended up with more flavour through the pairing, while the chewier texture (usually a negative point) was needed to isolate both the fish and miso-dashi teriyaki-like flavour in the mouth. Again, the plate featured a mildly-pickled palate cleanser. This time puréed mango held court, and even the tiniest bit of bite was enough to refresh the mouth for another bite of tuna. The sushi chef knew exactly what he was doing, as the mango would have been too sweet on its own, but was tart relative to the miso.

Sake. I have sampled a lot of sake, but the Wakatake Junmai Daigingo "Onikoroshi" was incredible ($125 for a 720mL bottle). Mildly floral, sweet, clean, and smooth, this sake got better and better as the meal progressed, pairing incredibly well with the Chef's sweet sauces and delicate fish. It did not complement the sushi rice (but sake is not meant to be paired with rice since they are made from the same ingredient and therefore compete in the mouth) but a sip with each bite of fish, meat, fruit and vegetable gave a new and eye-opening perspective to the dish.

Eel Ramen was delicious. The broth was mildly bitter which worked so well with the large chunks of sweet eel. Ramen is an art in itself and to receive such a thick, concentrated broth with al dente noodles and tender eel was a pleasure.


Then the robata grill. Apparently the only such grill in Canada. Charcoal is traditionally heated just below the grill rack, and the chef uses salt to encourage the heat and drops of water to settle it. Our server informed us that the restaurant instead used "organic" (it's a tree...) cedar planks, but the rest of the cooking technique remained unchanged. The whole sea bream was cooked slowly until it caramelized, and was served immediately instead of being allowed to cool slightly. In fact, the fish is known to be done when it is cool enough to touch. The sea bream itself was simple, to the point of being plain, despite the aplomb of the cooking technique, but a small dipping bowl of sweet white miso made a believer of those who trusted the chef's recommendation of the dish. Again, the miso was slightly sweet, but more with a slight flavour of apricot, so again not overpowering. An amazing choice of dip by the chef.

Cod rice. This sounds...well, bland. Not when it's made with black cod. It was like taking a cup of rice perfectly cooked in a cod and mirin broth and then stirring in melted butter (black cod, since there was no actual butter in the entire meal). It was sticky and sweet, and with finely-shaved sweet umeboshi (pickled plum) placed on top of the rice tower, for a tangy (as well as a colour) contrast.

Mushrooms with teriyaki were very simple but tender and meaty. The teriyaki sauce was, again, sweet, but rich enough lend a heartiness to the dish.

The miso black cod was one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life. I am not new to black cod. I have eaten it at other respectable Japanese restaurants, and cooked it several times myself. Most of these times it has been served with a sweet miso sauce. I thought I knew what to expect from Ame's version - a perfectly-cooked, sweet and a little salty pool of butter-less butter - but somehow they made what is naturally good, sublime. Served on a hot plate so the bottom skin sizzled, this dish went from rare to medium-rare at our table, but disappeared before it could reach a blackened skin. Since the fish was cured in the marinating process by mirin and miso, it could be barely cooked and still be perfectly tender and safe to eat. The skin should have been a delicacy, and was for the first few bites until it became obvious that it was over-salted. The sweet miso on top of the cod soaked down through the lusciously soft flakes of flesh, however, and quickly made you forget the skin...until the flesh was gone and your chopsticks screamed for more, only to find the salty remains of what it craved. It's possible that the skin was only lightly salted before it was placed on the hot plate, but the salt of the miso that descended the flesh and combined with the initial salt at the bottom made it too much. Still, it was heaven.

You can taste heaven.


The Wagyu short-ribs ended the meal on another high note. I was not the table's wagyu beef expert. The man to whom that title fell said it wasn't the best he's had, but that's compared with imported Japanese wagyu at various Nobu's, it was just very good...but I thought it was amazing. This was a local organic wagyu-style beef and it was not fall from the bones (it was not supposed to be) and it was not chewy (again, it is not supposed to be). What made it incredible was that the game-y flavour intensified in the first three chews of each bite. It tasted wild and every mouthful challenged you to find more subtleties in the meat. The green plate garnish that appears in every picture is a cilantro-scallion oil, but with the Wagyu beef another garnish was present - an umeboshi fluid gel. What is a fluid gel? Yes, I asked too. It's a combination of a liquid base with agar-agar. Agar agar acts like gelatin but is made from seaweed. The cilantro-scallion oil was more colour than flavour, but the sweet umeboshi (Japanese pickled plum) was probably made with Japanese sweet plum wine (like a port or dessert wine), so intense was each drop. The sweet and sour effect of the plum worked very well with the jus of the short ribs. Beautifully plated, small miso balls the size of pebbles matched toasted buckwheat for crunch and a nutty flavour to complement the sweetness of the sauce and plum, as well as the strength of the meat.

This was one of the best meals I have eaten. I am also thrilled to see that an entire list of recipes is available on the Chef's website. The recipes were used as part of the Food Network show, Made To Order, in which the two Rubino brothers star and, of course, cook.

This means that despite the high price tag of the meal, heaven is accessible. While dining in the restaurant was a true experience, rather than simply a very good meal, the food itself is innovative yet based on tradition.

Wondrous flavour. Seductive atmosphere. Would I could return to heaven.

Ame Sushi
Expect to Pay: $345 with sake, tax and tip.
Hours:Wed 5:30pm-11pm, Thurs-Sun 5:30pm-midnight
416-599-7246
www.amecuisine.com
info@amecuisine.com

Da Gianni e Maria, March 2010

Da Gianni e Maria Trattoria

796 St. Clair Avenue West
Toronto, ON

●●●●●●●●☺○○

8 1/2 out of 10

Italian

A lot of things have changed along the uprooted sidewalks of St. Clair West. For years the neighbourhood wasted away while pedestrians and cars avoided the disaster of a street. Stores closed, people moved away, and finally, a new day dawned on the desolate strip. The streetcar right-of-way private lane became operational and the roads were re-paved. New tenants, owners and shops wandered in, and Torontonians peeped their heads out of the St. Clair and St. Clair West subway stations. After years of lawsuits, injunctions and delayed construction, a bit of hope came back to the neighbourhood.

One restaurant that didn't quite make it through the lost years is Da Gianni e Maria. Before the upheaval, this gem of a restaurant was one of the most authentic Italian dining experiences in the St. Clair Corso Italia and all of Toronto. The restaurant website used to feature a picture of the chef, Gianni, and his father making gnocchi in the kitchen, showing the passing on of traditions that the restaurant embodied. Like the website says, first generation recipes, second generation "passion and creativity". Well I thought that meant Gianni's father's recipes and Gianni's passion and creativity. As it turns out, the restaurant didn't make it through the St. Clair upheaval as unscathed as I thought. Turns out Gianni is no longer at the restaurant and the ownership has changed hands, despite the name remaining the same.

Before the changeover, the food was beautiful. The menu was sectioned into antipasti, an enormous list of pasta primi, meat and fish secondi, simple contorni side dishes, and desserts that went far beyond the ubiquitous tiramisu (though the restaurant's home-made version was not to be missed). You would never feel bad about ordering something from all the menu sections, because that's what Italians would do, and you were certainly among Italians here. The portions were appropriately sized, seemingly a touch small, until you realize how many courses are coming. Bread, dips, soup, salads, pasta, fish, meat, vegetables, dessert, and liqueurs or espresso. The restaurant focused on traditional gourmet - ranging from simple and traditional mozzarella di bufalo to exotic wild boar, duck, deer and pheasant. While it was difficult to choose an appetizer (antipasto) and a main course (secondi), it was almost impossible to choose from all the pasta selections (primi).

2 years had passed since I last experienced Italy like this in Toronto. Stepping back into the restaurant I wondered if it could possibly live up to my expectations, if it was really as good as I had remembered, and if financial pressure from the decline of the neighbourhood would influence the menu or the food itself. On first glance, very little had changed, but not even this place could make it through 2 lean years in the proverbial rabbit hole of construction without coming out a little differently on the other side.

Most importantly, Gianni is no longer in the kitchen. There is a new owner and a new executive chef. The menu has remained mostly the same, though there are fewer selections (most noticeably in the baked pasta) to cut prep work, and they have eliminated some of the more expensive creations (mostly the wild game and seafood). The menu may be leaner, but what is left is a concentration of what the restaurant does best.

The meal started with fresh, warm bread and three complimentary toppings - puréed vegetable dip (mostly red pepper), diced chili peppers, and whole, fresh olives with anise. the whole olives were a nice touch (instead of a tapenade), but the chili peppers had no flavour and only a touch of heat that came on a few seconds after swallowing. The puréed vegetables were slightly sweet, but didn't feel like they served a purpose besides distracting from the beautiful bread. In fact, the three toppings were a nice gesture, a simple offering, but the good olive oil and balsamic with the bread proved a much better choice.

Then came the Antipasto Italiano ($16.75) - a selection of cured meats (prosciutto, bresaola, and two types of salame, the names of which were unknown to the server), more olives, Italian boccocini, and simple marinated mushrooms that cut through the salt of the meats and olives.

A more rustic and filling antipasto choice was the Riso e Lenticchie ($10.95). Warm and comforting, the soup was as simple as its name described (rice and lentils), but bespoke the home-style cooking of the restaurant. Normally a drizzling of olive oil is a visual more so than a gustatory garnish. Not in this case. A single droplet of gold pleasantly took over entire mouthfuls of soup. Gourmet this was not, but wonderful it was. Not too salty, a balanced broth, and perfectly-cooked lentils.

A respite, and then pasta. Fettucine Verdi al pesto con pollo ($19.95 - green fettucini with pesto and chicken) Fettucine Gianni e Maria ($22.95 - diced salmon and shrimp in a rosé sauce, topped with tiger shrimp) or one of four (there used to be six) choices of gnocchi ($18.95 - creamy porcini mushroom, gorgonzola, meat sauce or tomato). The pesto was kept out of the food processor (the oine nuts were whole), thick with basil, and was'nt overwhelmingly oily. The chicken was flavourful and hand-cut into well-sized mouthfuls instead of machine-efficient slices. The shrimp in rosé sauce were abundant and succulent, but the gnocchi break my heart because that was Gianni's signature dish.

Another breath. Then the meat and fish. Somehow risotti have made their way from the primi menu to the secondi menu, but the Risotto alla Pescatora is so full of shrimp, clams, mussels and calamari that there is certainly enough meat to call it a main. Traditionally rice or pasta would not be served on the same plate as a secondi - it would be just meat or fish, except in the case of osso buco which is served with polenta, or perhaps a simple risotto. The seafood risotto here is served with a tomato or cream sauce, and even the less traditional tomato version is executed well. It uses three types of tomatoes, slow-cooked and combined with fresh parsley for a nice finish.


From the choices of veal scallopine, the mushroom sauce version ($20.95) boasts a thick coating, pleasing to the mouth, if not the eyes.

The lighter grilled seafood options highlight the new chef's delicate touch. Flambéd in brandy, the salmon ($20.95) was tender on the inside and nicely charred on the outside. The success of the dish depended on the high quality of the salmon since the flavouring was so mild, so for a stronger, sweeter option go for the grilled shrimp and calamari with both brandy and balsamic. If you appreciate the fish on its own, you have a difficult decision to make.

Sadly, cut from the menu was the whole fish, a true Italian specialty. There is nothing like watching a good server de-bone a fish at your table in mere minutes. There are moments when I hate streetcars.

Wine. The evening's chef did not drink, and the server did not know the wine list. So she offered to check with the executive chef to get a recommendation of an appropriate bottle to go with all our meals. An impossible task, I know, since the food selections ranged from tomato sauces with seafood, to creamy sauces with veal, not to mention the simple salmon. We also stubbornly wanted a red. I realize I show my youth when I see a wine list featuring Barolos and Brunellos...but I just can't seem to go with a white when these heroes of wine are tempting me. After inconveniencing the executive chef, a Barbera d'Asti 2006 Piemont Marenco was recommended. It was very dry, and a very intelligent choice on the part of the chef to not overwhelm any of the ordered plates, though I admit that I should have gone with white. For $43, it was a bargain on the exquisite all-Italian wine menu. Grouped by region, Piedmont, Venezia and Tuscany are certainly highlighted, and some unique bottles are offered. Another rare and exceptional option is a Barolo by the glass ($10).

Not to be disrespected are the side dishes. The arugula in the pomodori e rughetta is a savoury and refreshing break to the sweetness of the risotto and salmon. The cherry and roma tomatoes were lack-lustre, but it is not tomato season, so they should be forgiven...or not served.

We ordered the roasted portobello mushrooms, but when they did not come at the same time as the arugula, we requested they stay away, as there was certainly no more room in our bodies.

There was, of course, room for dessert. A simple poached pear in red wine. Fine, I thought. This will be mediocre. Wine, sugar, maybe a little lemon juice, and pear.

I beg forgiveness.

The pear had been cooked for an hour at a very low temperature in marsala wine. Then it had been left to soak overnight into the heady alcohol, intensifying the flavour. Served cold, this was an exquisite end to the meal. Basta. Enough.

As we were the only party in the restaurant on a Tuesday evening, there was no way to even consider that food had been sitting around waiting to be served. It was made fresh to order, and deserves a loyal clientele, even without Gianni heading up the kitchen. Three hours slipped away without our having noticed. Just like Italy, La Dolce Vita. Still a beautiful atmosphere and good food. Even with a few menu changes, a new non-Italian owner, and a lot of work ahead to re-make a name for itself in the self-renewing St. Clair West neighbourhood, this Trattoria deserves to be successful. Dear Gianni, wherever you are, how I wish I could again taste your gnocchi pillows of heaven.

Expect to Pay: $20-$35 at lunch, $40-$70 per person, with tax, tip and a glass of wine.
Hours: Tues-Sun 9:30am-12pm, 12:30pm-3:30pm, 5pm-10pm
416-652-3982
dagianniemaria@rogers.com

Oyster Boy

Oyster Boy
872 Queen West
Toronto, ON
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9 out of 10 (for the oysters)
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7 out of 10 (for cooked food)

Oysters, just oysters

These are good oysters...I didn't want to look at the price, but these were very, very good oysters.
American Blue Point and Kumamoto, New Brunswick Caraquet, skip the Beaujolais and Malpeque because they're so standard (thus overpriced here). Best was the other pacific kind that I can't remember the name of. The oysters change all the time, though, so some will always be there and others you'll have to get lucky to find. Try a variety. You can order them invidually, by the half dozen, or by the dozen. they come with three sauces - red wine vinegar and shallots, a ketchup-like sweet tomato sauce, and a spicy sweet chili sauce. Try them all on their own first. Nice touch with the freshly shaved horseradish in the middle of the platter. Fresh lemon slices too, but, hy would you want that? The oysters don't need it. Maybe as a palette cleanser. 3 dozen oysters were the highlight of the meal. Yes, they serve other food, but again, why would you want that? It's not bad, but it's not oysters.

I tried the arctic char that came with fingerling potatoes roasted in duck fat and spinach sautéed in white wine. The spinach was very good. The potatoes were just potatoes. The char was simply seared, and just didn't sing. The potatoes were better with the ketchup-like sauce for the oysters, and the char was better with the chili sauce. So much duck fat this week....Sturgeon ceviche? No. If sturgeon tasted like lemon, this would have been good ceviche. 2 pieces of roasted beets, 2 walnuts and 2 slices of nice pear in a green salad with red wine vinaigrette? Sure, but leave room for more oysters.

Well shucked, boy. Well shucked.

Expect to Pay: $50-$70 per person, including tax and tip
Hours: Mon-Wed 5pm-10pm, Thu-Fri 5pm-11pm, Sat 3pm-11pm, Sun 3pm-10pm
(416) 534-3432
www.oysterboy.ca

Nunu Ethiopian Fusion

Nunu Ethiopian Fusion

1178 Queen Street West
Toronto, ON
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6 out of 10

This place was voted Toronto's Best Date Restaurant 2009 by NOW Magazine. Having been there, I'd be inclined to say no to a proposed date here...

Reasons to go to this restaurant (Note: these only work when they are all applicable)
1. You live in the area and do not like transportation, public or otherwise
2. You've never had Ethiopian food before
3. You don't like spicy food
4. You like 'accessible' ethnic food
5. You know nothing about wine
6. You think a good date is one where you sit very, very far apart from each other, separated by a tacky candle centre-piece
7. You think the idea of watching your date stuffing dripping, oil-based stew into his/her own mouth (or your mouth, God forbid) is romantic
8. You like to share...

It should be noted that this is supposedly not a fusion restaurant. For the most part this is accurate. The main dishes are beef tibbs, stewed chicken, and "spicy" lentils. These are served on injera (teff-based sponge bread). This is not gourmet food. So when you make it "fusion" by putting it in a more formal setting, I'm not fooled. The whole concept of Ethiopian food is you share with the people at your table, and I find it sad that when you order a dish just for yourself it comes on a cute, rectangular, long plate, and pieces of injera are wrapped up like cinnamon buns on one side. When you order a platter to share, it comes out more traditionally, on a giant pizza-like plate, where the stews are served directly onto the pieces of injera lining the bottom. The individual dishes are much more attractive, and the traditional dishes look sloppy. This encourages not sharing, sucking all the good qualities of traditions out of th restaurant.

I also just need to take this opportunity to laugh at a comment on another review of this restaurant. Someone who had obviously never had Ethiopian food before said everything was so good and once they'd had this magical dessert made of fresh fruit, custard and whipped cream, they were convinced the kitchen was amazing, and they'd definitely go back again.

This is trifle. Trifle is British. Or Russian, apparently. The French have a version they call "British Soup". Congratulations on being completely food culturally unaware, commenter.

I will stop being such a jerk now. I will not stop laughing.

I would forgive all this (con)fusion if the food stood up for itself, but it just doesn't. I respect the restaurant for sourcing local vegetables, using high-quality products where they can, and even using only olive oil (a ton of it, but no peanut, vegetable, or cheap canola) but the dishes were just lacklustre. Maybe a little less oil and a little more flavour would have helped.


The collard greens were bland and so was the cabbage. Kudos for not using iceberg lettuce in the salad, but it was way too sweet. The yellow split peas were mild, and the spicy ones were too salty, and definitely wimpy heat-wise. The black lentils were the only interesting flavour - mustard - but interesting does not mean good. I wouldn't want more than a few bites of it. The roasted beets were the highlight of the vegetarian platter. They were chewy and dense, and somehow had a meat-like texture. Not too sweet. Oh, and the carrots were also very tasty. Real flavour (hurray local).


Then the meat. The only thing that stood out were the chicken legs with hard-boiled eggs. the berbere spicing was luscious. All the rest of the meat was tough and chewy. I know, I know, it's not supposed to be tender. It's a different tradition, steak-heavy, but it was just not tasty enough to forgive. The lamb had layers of fat, and when you only get a few tablespoons of the dish, it's just not enough meat. The chicken breast was bland. I think the kitchen is scared of adding too much heat. They don't want Ethiopian food novitiates to be overwhelmed. Especially on a date (now that they're the top date place). Well here's some advice: Cut the garlic in the salad and up the chili peppers. Chili peppers will release endorphins, so when you're disappointed by a mediocre meal you can at least enjoy your company.

Then there's the wine list. This is not a date restaurant with a list like this. $8 for Fuzion? Is that a joke? No, really, I mean is it a play on the name of the restaurant?

The prices are also confusing. You can get a vegetarian platter for $13, a meat platter for $15, but you get a mixed platter for $17...This doesn't make a whole lot of sense. the vegetables cost less than the meat, so adding them to the meat should make the whole dish cost less. As in $14. It didn't take an hour to cook the food, so it's not a labour issue since you're making more dishes. In fact you can order, say, a two-person meat platter and a one-person vegetable platter and end up with just about the same thing. All the same dishes (in fact, all the dishes on the entire menu...) for less than if you order a three-person mixed platter. Figure that one out...

So, don't go here if you want the best Ethiopian food in the city. Don't go here if you like tender meat. Don't go here if you like your water glass re-filled promptly when you're thirsty from all the salt. Don't go here if you are a romantic.

Go here if you appreciate good intentions enough to support a couple of restauranteurs who are simply trying to share the basics (not the best) of Ethiopian cooking with a city that appreciates fake upscale dining. Oh, and word to the wise: On a date, some like it hot...

Best Bet: Doro Wat (Chicken legs), Roasted Beets
Expect to Pay: $11-$16 for individual orders, $16-$21 each for a mixed platter, including tax and tip
Hours: Daily, 11am-12pm
(647) 351-6868
www.nunuethiopian.com

From Montreal With Love: A Gourmet Toronto Homecoming

I'm going back to Toronto today! And of course, I have grand eating plans. To give you an idea what I'll be writing about for the next while, here's a list of the places I want to review. There's a running theme of what restaurants and neighbourhoods have changed, what food trends are growing, and how the Toronto dinig scene compares to Montreal. Not so much a competition between the cities. Mostly a love story. Call me a romantic.

1. A comparison review of Hiro Sushi and Ame Sushi. Ame Sushi has taken over the space where the restaurant Rain used to be. The owners have not changed, but they are presenting a very different kind of culinary experience. I never went to Rain but I knew it was one of the swankiest places in town. It'll be fun to compare both the high quality of fish and the different styles of Japanese cuisine at both Ame and Hiro. These two restaurants stand in firm opposition to the growing trend of Japanese fusion and mediocre sushi restaurants in the city. It's disappointing to see that Montreal has even lower sushi standards and fusion is picking up here as well. Toronto can maybe start to feel a little proud of its Japanese restaurants, which are slowly catching up to Vancouver in terms of quality options.

2. A review of Da Gianni e Maria, an Italian restaurant I reviewed just before leaving Toronto two years ago. At the time it was the most authentic Italian experience I found in the city. Now with the new and improved St. Clair area, which was under construction the entire time I lived in the city, I'm looking forward to seeing what's changed in the restaurant, if anything. Hopefully it's stayed exactly as old-school Italian as it always was.

3. A review of Cruda Cafe, a new raw restaurant in St. Lawrence Market, a shocking change to the mainly meat-centric market takeaways. I've been to Live Organic food bar in Toronto and Montreal's Crudessence, and Montreal definitely wins the raw battle...until now?

4. A comparison review of Nunu's Ethiopian Fusion, a new Ethiopian restaurant outside of the Bloorcourt Village, and Zembaba's, a much more casual Ethiopian bar/restaurant in Bloorcourt Village that I reviewed before I left. Basically I want an excuse to rant about the upscale swing of Ethiopian in the city that now makes it very similar to the Ethiopian restaurant options of Montreal, like Le Nil Bleu.

6. A review of restaurant Loire (I will mention Gilead Bistro, where Jamie Kennedy has taken back over the kitchen helm, but not review it since it has recently been reviewed by the Globe). Loire opened just after I moved to Montreal. This restaurant seems to be what half the good restaurants in Montreal are - authentic - and so it's worthy of a comparison to some of the French restaurants I've tried in Montreal since my move (Au Petit Extra, Aix Cuisine du Terroir).

Zembaba: The Emperor's New Food

Montrealers can't seem to grasp that Torontonians could have it better than them. Heck, we've got a mountain. Earth to Montreal, it's a hill...

Geographical limitations aside, Toronto wins hands down in terms of Ethiopian food. Sure, there are a couple decent places in Montreal - Le Nil Bleu, and Magdala, the new restaurant by the owner of the former Messob d'Or - but for variety and price, there's nothing like the Bloorcourt Village, the city's own Little Africa, to sit down for a casual meal in a bar and get a bunch of meat stew dumped onto a large platter of fermented bread on the table in front of you while you watch a soccer game on a big screen TV...God bless Canadian interculturalism.

Zembaba Restaurant and Bar

838 Bloor Street West
Toronto, ON

416-535-7486

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7/10

Ethiopian

If you're not North African or you don't live in the Bloorcourt Village (Bloor and Dovercourt), I can pretty much guarantee you've never heard of this place. That's a shame. This area is home to other Ethiopian restaurants the Queen of Sheba, Lalibela, and Nazareth, but this inconspicuous resto-bar deserves some attention. This is certainly the only place to find Roman Cha Cha Tibbs-lamb tibbs cooked according to Roman Azale's parents' recipe. Azale, the owner and chef, is the daughter of two of Emporer Haile Selassie's chefs. So It's not the Emporer's clothes, but it is his food you get. This is a little less invasive, at least.

Fortunately, service is not so regal that you feel you should never speak unless spoken to or make eye contact. What separates Zembaba from other Ethiopian Restaurants is it's casual atmosphere. This is not where you necessarily come for your first Ethiopian experience. It does not fill you with awe to walk into the restaurant and feel part of such an old and rich cultural heritage. The servers are not dressed in traditional clothes. The patrons next to you are relaxing with a beer, watching TV and enjoying good food. I wouldn't expect to special-order Ethiopian coffee that would take hours to roast, because food comes quickly here. Heat and serve. It's plentiful, it's poured from a hot platter onto your table-sized piece of injera covered in salad and stewed vegetables. Everything is simple, functional, relaxed. Ethiopia's equivalent of a diner.

It's a wonderful thing. Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this. Now foodies will invade and soak up the atmosphere. They'll take a proverbial piece of injera and swallow up all of what is so appealing about this restaurant. But I'm a hypocrite. I went there and loved it and it deserves to be frequented by others indiscriminately.

So,

Vegetarian Platter: $10.00 tax in.

Our server said it's for one person but it was more than enough for two. We could barely finish it, and that only because we felt badly leaving anything so delicious. Unlike my first experience with Ethiopian food when I didn't know if it was acceptable to take leftovers home (it is), this time it just wasn't enough left to ask the server to bother. So it was worth a little bit of stuffing to fit it in. So that's $5 each for too much good food.

There are slight, but important, differences between all Ethiopian restaurants. The use of butter for cooking, the combination of spices, the cuts of meat and how well-cooked they are, and of course, the injera. My first experience at Ethiopian House on Irwin Street in Toronto blew me away, as I had never had my meal presented to me on a platter of sponge-y flatbread, upon which different spicy and not-so-spicy concoctions were serially separated. A veritable palette of food. This was then served with another folded-over table-sized pancake of injera to tear apart and use as a utensil for the meat or vegetables. Eaten one mixed mouthful at a time, the novelty of the meal was wonderful. Meat was served on hot platters reminiscent of Korean hot plate and the contents were poured onto the table-sized injera laid out in front of you. The vegetables (the only other option being beef) were either lemony or spicy. Never sweet. The collard greens weren't appealing to me. Berbere, a traditional hot spice, was interesting but I wasn't about to go buy it and place it in the seat of honour in my spice shelf.

My second restaurant, M&B Yummy on Queen West, showed me that fava beans can be delicious and injera can be served torn up as part of the dish, as well as a utensil. It also showed me that vegan Ethiopian food is pretty normal, not like what we would think of as the difference between Canadian burgers or pastas, and what we would think of as more standard vegan fare in the Toronto area (like Hibiscus, Fresh, or the Urban Herbivore). Finally, it showed me that rushing is not something that should happen in the preparation or enjoyment of a meal. The chef/server (the only other person in the restaurant) took orders and then went to prepare all of our meals. Definitely not heat and serve. Some things were prepped, sure, but this was fresh. Not yet an 'haute cuisine', but conceptually far ahead of Western fast food.

By my fifth restaurant and my fourth vegetarian platter, I had learned that:

1. Spiced butter is a good idea to limit the bitter lemon flavour of the collard greens. Zembaba's were the best.

2. Carrots and squash with turmeric are an incredible combination. I wonder how much of this cooking is influenced by the Indian population of Kenya to the south? Huge influx of immigrants to build a railroad (feel the strange comparison to the Canadian Pacific Railroad and the national guilt that came with it). Who started this cooking in a freshly-ground spice mixture idea? Did East Africa give to India or did India give to East Africa? Injera tastes nothing like naan or chapaati but the concept is very similar.

3. No two 'vegetarian' or 'meat' platters are created equal in terms of content and quality.

4. There is a fair bit of oil, or butter, or ghee involved in this kind of food, a lot like Indian dishes again, but the most delicious and unique injera is the part that has had a sauce scooped on top of it. The whole grain used for the bread, teff, originates in Africa and only now can be found in health food stores worldwide. You won't find it in India. The oil and flavour seeps into the injera and once the sauce has been scooped from on top, the inundated bread dissolves in your mouth.

So what was so good about Zembaba's? Shouldn't I prefer the home-made, slow-cooked 'healthier' vegan fare at Y&B Yummy? Or Ethiopian House's fancier setting? Or maybe Montreal's Le Nil Bleu or the same company's newest venture, Magdala? Nope. Zembaba's food was the best Ethiopian that I've tasted. there were simple dishes with complex spices, just enough on every dish. It included a dish of red lentils, one of split peas, another of carrots, potato and squash, the lovely collard greens and a lettuce salad featuring slightly lemony greens that were a step up from iceberg. The good server even brought extra injera because we actually needed more.

It's also not vegetarian, and when you stew meat for hours, all the flavour soaks into the sauce. Lentils don't really do the same thing...Sorry, veggies. There menu has a lot of excellent vegetarian, but it has a lot of delicious lamb. Most of the other Ethiopian restaurants I have been to in the city feature either beef or vegetarian. I don't know how traditional lamb is, especially since cows are the main livestock, but it's a nice change. Either red meat served stewed or raw works perfectly under the expert spicing of the Zembaba's royal chef. Besides, for only $2 extra, you can order the meat platter and get all the vegetable platter options added to it.

The St. Lawrence Sushi Battle!!!

The St. Lawrence Market Sushi Battle!

92 Front Street East
Toronto, ON

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81/2/10 6/10

Dominic's Fish Market vs. Quik Sushi

The appeal of a farmer's market is usually that the customer may go directly to the source...the farmer, or fisherman. Alas (or perhaps thank goodness), not in Toronto. So, the freshest fish should be bought from a fishmonger, in this case Dominic's Fish Market. Dominic's employs it's own sushi chef to prepare fresh sushi on site. Quik Sushi buys their fish from other Market Vendors, probably including Dominic's Fish Market. Their advantage is that they may purchase their fish from any of the three fish markets, choosing whatever is freshest but the other fish stores, however, do not specialize in sushi.

Lower Level, South St. Lawrence Market, 416-368-1397, http://www.stlawrencemarket.com/shopping/vendors/domenics.html

Upper Level, South St. Lawrence Market, 416-603-0016, http://www.stlawrencemarket.com/shopping/vendors/quiksushi.html

So there seems to be a superfluous step in this process. Why buy from the middle man when you trek all the way down to Front and Jarvis, push your way through the cacophony of the market on a Saturday morning just to get as close as fresh fish comes to the source in Toronto?

This is the theoretical argument. On to the results:

Advantages of Quik Sushi: They have teriyaki and tempura. More types of rolls (Dragon, caterpillar, rainbow, unagi, and vegetarian).

Disadvantages of Quik Sushi: Salmon sashimi left in display too long. No special types of fish.

Advantages of Dominic's Fish Market: Best salmon nigiri and handrolls. Butterfish available upon advance request. Toro availalble upon request. Free (amazing) oyster sampling. Fresh wakame salad sold seperately.Take home packages of fresh gyoza dumplings to steam.

Disadvantages of Dominic's Fish Market: Limited quantities and selection once the sushi chef leaves on Saturday afternoon.

Best of show:

If you want the best salmon in sushi that I've ever tasted in Toronto, go with the the salmon avocado handroll from Dominic's.

Both this and the california rolls with salmon sashimi draped on top are incredible. DO NOT choose the economic Six Piece Nigiri Sushi, Six Piece Salmon and Tuna Rolls, and Three Piece Salmon Sashimi that has been sitting in the display too long at Quik Sushi. Ask for it fresh, or order salmon sashimi seperately on the side...from Dominic's. Do this while you chat with their Japanese-only-speaking chef through their translator/oyster shucker.

Upon requesting a special order of toro nigiri (a fattier tuna)from Dominic's, my dining companion experienced a revelation of flavour. I thought it was too stringy. I wanted the melt-in-your-mouth kind of fatty, not the chewy kind. Quik Sushi, however, did not offer toro at all. Just run of the mill maguro tuna.

Above: Dominic's Salmon Avocado Roll

Below: Quik Sushi's Salmon Avocado Roll

Besides the obvious lack of caviar on Quik Sushi's roll, the taste is actually very similar. Despite the fact that neither probably use the best cut of salmon in maki rolls, the combination of creamy avocado with nicely seasoned sushi rice makes both of these great choices for a light lunch.

Fine, I admit it. Everything at Dominic's is not necessarily better. Their nigiri/roll combos (above) that have been sitting in display are very hard to differentiate from those at Quick Sushi. They, however, thoughtfully, did not include the salmon sushi that looks like it's dying a little every minute that it waits to be bought.

Finally, butterfish, my personal god of sushi...Upon advance special request Dominic's will prepare butterfish for you. After suffering a long period of butterfish drought in Toronto sushi, I was thrilled to know that they had it. I assumed it must be very expensive and very unsustainable, but it turns out that it's just not carried in many places. This is a definite melt-in-your-mouth, solidify on your hips kind of good omega three fat.

Plan to Spend: $15

Siddhartha - Little India

Siddhartha

1450 Gerrard Street East

Toronto, ON

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4/10

The smell of curry engulfs the area of Gerrard Street East called Little India. Set adrift amid the smells of cumin and mustardseed, cardamom and mango powder I floated into Siddharta's All-You-Can-Eat Dinner Buffet dreaming of naan and chutney.

Alas...

Tandoori Chicken and Chicken Fried Rice

I hope you are as skeptical as I am of an Indian restaurant serving chicken fried rice. It's not as though Indian food does not have it's equivalent (if not it's better) in chicken biryani, and yet, at Siddharta there is no biryani to be found. Instead, there is this.

This is not a Pan-Asian restaurant. In the form of a gastronomic pep talk: have some self-respect and stick to what you know you can do best! How can anyone love you until you love yourself. Be proud of what is inherently 'you'. Leave China out of it. Focus on cumin, cloves, coriander, ginger and yogurt.

Good work. The tandoori chicken was okay. Not too dry for having been sitting in a chafing dish for too long. It must have been a fresh batch.

Curry Chicken

Oh how I love curry chicken. A friend once told me she had never met a chocolate she didn't like. She then proceeded to eat a chocolate and was shocked to discover that she had just made her first inanimate enemy. Fortunately this horrible disappointment did not befall me upon eating this curry chicken. I always wondered how non-vegetarian Indian buffets could possibly make a profit, as meat is so expensive. It turns out that most skimp on the meat and over-do it with the sauce. The sauce, being mostly oil and spices, is very heavy, limiting how much you can eat...well, that or how unwell you will feel later. I guarantee, however, that at the time it will seem like it's worth it.

Top: Cauliflower and Carrot Masala; Cabbage; Eggplant and Potato

Bottom: Basmati Rice; Vegetable Jalfrezzi; Chicken Curry

Call me crazy but the cauliflower and carrot masala was one of my favourite dishes. It was the only dish where I couldn't taste the oil. The masala spice blend had lots of flavour that soaked perfectly into the vegetables. The cabbage on the other hand was not a good vehicle for it's sauce. Cooked in way too much ghee, it was slimey all the way down. Despite being ridiculously rich, the vegetable jalfrezzi was my other favourite (remember my love of chicken curry), and even beat out the curry for best flavour of a sauce. If only there had been less potato and more 'anything else'. Eggplant and potato disappointed. It was kind of like overcooked mush in bland oil. Perhaps I'm just upset because there was no baigan bharta, which in my opinion would have been a much better use of overcooked eggplant.

Buffet tricks:

1) Drain excess sauce to ensure ample portions of meat and vegetables. Yes, you will want a little sauce for rice and naan but with 20 dishes you'll be eating a lot of rice if you load your plate with every dish's sauce.

2) Never, ever, ever forget the naan.

3) Start with very small portions of almost everything (the salad bar at an Indian buffet seems a little unnecessary. Who goes out for Indian to eat raw iceberg lettuce, cucumber and tomato?). Once you become a regular at the restaurant you are allowed to eat only your favourite dishes so you can have more of them, but without trying all the dishes how will you possibly know what the best ones are? All Indian buffets are not created equal and something you don't like or only sort of like at one restaurant may be completely amazing at another. You also do not want to take a large portion of something you think you'll like only to discover that this restaurant's version is awful.

So please remember the reviewer's code: NOT ALL FOOD IS CREATED EQUAL.

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results. If I admit to insanity, does it make it okay to go back to try dinner à-la-carte which, I've heard tell, is much better than the buffet? Or is that asking for punishment?

Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar

No longer exists!!! Well, it does, but it isn't owned by Jamie Kennedy, whose love of the local food movement is blamed for wracking up his restaurant's debt. Apparently 'local' is too expensive and impractical. I beg to differ. His prices were just too reasonable for the high-quality of food offered. He could have looked to Montreal's sky-high restaurant prices at mediocre establishments and up-ed what he charged. People will pay it. It does make it unaffordable to most, but for the variety of ingredients, especially meats, cheeses and heirloom varietals of vegetables, it was just too much of a good thing to last. This review pre-dates the ownership change and name change to, just, "The Wine Bar", but the first paragraph was added before the sale while the restaurant was trying to re-create itself as something it was not. the Gilead Café, however, still exists.

Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar

9 Church Street

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9/10

Contemporary...turned, well, boringly normal.

How the mighty have fallen...halfway.

Since reviewing this incredible restaurant, the tides have turned. The front room is now a casual coffee and sandwich bar with happy hour style snacks. Nothing to write home, or here, about. With bankruptcy issues, sourcing local and organic at the amazing prices described below stopped being economically feasible. Isn't local supposed to be cheaper? Not when it's meat. Maybe that's why soups and sandwiches are the fare of the day now. A homemade broth from organic bones courtesy of Rowe farms makes an unpretentious lunch the more reasonable option. Come on, Jamie. You're not Splendido. You're disappointing a city who expect more from you. Have a little respect and make your own bread at least. Ace is great, but you can go to Ace Bakery if you want it. Previous to this disaster the review read as follows:

In the age of celebrity chefs, should it surprise me that I have friends, both gay and straight, who are attracted to Jamie Kennedy? If there is an attraction to a man who can cook then this man is the all-Canadian poster-boy pin-up of food.

From a menu that changes weekly, according to what he can get locally in season, the two tapas-sized items that I'll never forget are tomato soup and fries. Well, think more along the lines of yellow tomato purée drizzled with olive oil and crème fraiche, and five-year aged cheddar on organic potatoes in the most high-end version of poutine to grace the palettes of fortunate Torontonians.

Amazingly affordable until you add wine (and why wouldn't you when you can choose one of three different tasting sizes up to a full 12 oz glass to each brilliantly paired with a food item on the menu?) this is the best restaurant in the city in terms of food quality, service, atmosphere and innovation. The soup was almost enough for lunch on it's own, but withso many appetizer-sized options on the menu ranging from $5 to $15, it's impossible to not let you curiosity expand the bill to just under what you would expect to pay at such an amazing restaurant. How is it affordable? Well the funny thing about buying in season and local is that you're not paying for the food to be transported over long distances. Having great connections to producers certainly doesn't hurt. Who would have thought that you should be friends with the people whose produce you buy? Perhaps they may even start to care about the quality of their produce when they know who will be eating it. Kind of like the fast food server that spits in your food because you are being rude, the farmer is certainly capable of proverbially spitting in the food of the animal that makes it's way up the food chain to your mouth. Hormones, anyone?

Not at Jamie Kennedy's...

Unfortunately, his most recent venture, the Gilead Café near the Distillery District, needs a little work. Mostly, the servers need a little work. They probably should have at least said "bacon and cheese" when I asked what was in the lima bean and potato salad. Instead they said "An oil and vinegar vinaigrette" which would kind of make a vegetarian, vegan, lactose-intolerant or non-red meat eating person a little upset when they bit into the salad.

Expect to pay: $12 for lunch, $5 for coffee and a treat