Snack Me

Ok, we all know that food reshapes us individually. But a report in the current issue of Nature tells how researchers poring over the human genome  are hypothesizing that human evolution itself is being significantly influenced by Some scientists are arguing that even more than famine dusease climatethese geno- cultural forces are the dominant mode of human evolution. Imagine, the burger is shaping the world!

Cut to the kids. The plaint is that they are now serial snackers, turning down the solid food which is “so good for you.” Now we know. They have the snacker gene. And they got it from the bossy adults. Sure adults have gone along with three squares a day for convention’s sake, but more and more they reveal themselves as snackers – in a preference for a couple of  appetizers over a second course, in the growing and cementing preference for the shared/small plate. The only thing holding back full snacker rebellion is the price of the meal. Many diners still want to see their dollarsworth in the amount of food on the plate – rather than in its quality and delight.

The proof of  theory is in the eating. Where else but Lee? This will be the first time I’ve reviewed Lee which opened in 2004 and thus before my time. Lee is the pulsing heart of the ever expanding Susur Lee empire. It’s the lab for all the experiments that have migrated to Madeline’s next door, to Shang in New York, Zentan in Washington, to Chinois Susur’s new place in Singapore.  Lee is haute snack.

Lee is  a deep crimson gambling den of a café with enchanting shadowy parrots parading along the walls. Inside, it’s all about business, a canteen configuration designed for customers to the max. I’ve never managed to sit against the wall where the light’s better and always end up in the well of the restaurant. Another beef while I’m at it, the reservation limitations. I don’t like being told I can only eat at 6.30 or 8. 30 and each time I sulk, and almost say forget it. But I don’t.Fact is Lee has  wonderful food – and even more significantly,it’s maintained the gold standard for six long years.

The menu is bare bones. Soup, Veg & Salad, Fish, Meat. The dishes are all designed to be shared and to be eaten in any order. We unpack the little porcelain tray which holds the napkin and cutlery, and before we know it, our first selection is infront of us. Service here is no slouch. We share four salty shrimps $21, crack the shells  in our mouths after dipping them in a cooling cucumber sauce.  Then a plate of four healthily pink lamb shops arrive, garnished with fried bananas, green curry lentils,  chili mint, carrot cardamom and coconut chutney $24. Could have done with double the amount of the garnishes. The coup de grace is the duck confit roll, a sumptuous medley of flavours, spiced nuts, hydrated pineapple topped with a blob of goat cheese $19. I usually find  preserved duck a stolid dish but these little nuggets of caramelized duck meat are irresisistible, bathed in a deep brown nug-fragrant sauce.

I realize I’ve now eaten more than I usually do – yet I’m not full. My guess is that small helpings, the snacks perk you up rather than satiating the senses. My hunch is that we’ve always been snackers struggling to shake off the bourgeois convention of the three squares a day which like the three act play was designed to wring order from chaos to suit the demands of the industrial world.  First a sparkling appetizer, second, a testing exploration of themes, finally, denoument (a good pastry chef). Both were shrunk versions of epic originals (Careme’s huge banquets, Shakespeare’s evening-long plays) and designed to illustrate the accepted arc of life, passages rounded with a little sleep.

But now our lives are like fever charts, the jogging needle of unpredictability which asks for constant stimulation and nutrition. My head vibrates. Snack Me says my brain.

Will this do? A pretty lacy little bowl made from rice noodles which holds sautéed jerk chicken tossed in Scotch bonnet, the blowtorch chili, sauce with ginger and mango puree $17. We have two mouthfuls apiece. Perfect.

***Lee 603 King W. 416-504 7867 no wheelchair access. Dinner for two plus tax – four dishes $104. Lee is now open for lunch.

China’s Sanlian Life Weekly magazine is publishing online Gina Mallet’s “The birth of a superchef and the art of fusion”, about Susur Lee.  http://www.lifeweek.com.cn/

. But a report in the current issue of Nature tells how researchers poring over the human genome  are hypothesizing that human evolution itself is being significantly influenced by Some scientists are arguing that even more than famine dusease climatethese geno- cultural forces are the dominant mode of human evolution. Imagine, the burger is shaping the world!

Cut to the kids. The plaint is that they are now serial snackers, turning down the solid food which is “so good for you.” Now we know. They have the snacker gene. And they got it from the bossy adults. Sure adults have gone along with three squares a day for convention’s sake, but more and more they reveal themselves as snackers – in a preference for a couple of  appetizers over a second course, in the growing and cementing preference for the shared/small plate. The only thing holding back full snacker rebellion is the price of the meal. Many diners still want to see their dollarsworth in the amount of food on the plate – rather than in its quality and delight.

The proof of  theory is in the eating. Where else but Lee? This will be the first time I’ve reviewed Lee which opened in 2004 and thus before my time. Lee is the pulsing heart of the ever expanding Susur Lee empire. It’s the lab for all the experiments that have migrated to Madeline’s next door, to Shang in New York, Zentan in Washington, to Chinois Susur’s new place in Singapore.  Lee is haute snack.

Lee is  a deep crimson gambling den of a café with enchanting shadowy parrots parading along the walls. Inside, it’s all about business, a canteen configuration designed for customers to the max. I’ve never managed to sit against the wall where the light’s better and always end up in the well of the restaurant. Another beef while I’m at it, the reservation limitations. I don’t like being told I can only eat at 6.30 or 8. 30 and each time I sulk, and almost say forget it. But I don’t.Fact is Lee has  wonderful food – and even more significantly,it’s maintained the gold standard for six long years.

The menu is bare bones. Soup, Veg & Salad, Fish, Meat. The dishes are all designed to be shared and to be eaten in any order. We unpack the little porcelain tray which holds the napkin and cutlery, and before we know it, our first selection is infront of us. Service here is no slouch. We share four salty shrimps $21, crack the shells  in our mouths after dipping them in a cooling cucumber sauce.  Then a plate of four healthily pink lamb shops arrive, garnished with fried bananas, green curry lentils,  chili mint, carrot cardamom and coconut chutney $24. Could have done with double the amount of the garnishes. The coup de grace is the duck confit roll, a sumptuous medley of flavours, spiced nuts, hydrated pineapple topped with a blob of goat cheese $19. I usually find  preserved duck a stolid dish but these little nuggets of caramelized duck meat are irresisistible, bathed in a deep brown nug-fragrant sauce.

I realize I’ve now eaten more than I usually do – yet I’m not full. My guess is that small helpings, the snacks perk you up rather than satiating the senses. My hunch is that we’ve always been snackers struggling to shake off the bourgeois convention of the three squares a day which like the three act play was designed to wring order from chaos to suit the demands of the industrial world.  First a sparkling appetizer, second, a testing exploration of themes, finally, denoument (a good pastry chef). Both were shrunk versions of epic originals (Careme’s huge banquets, Shakespeare’s evening-long plays) and designed to illustrate the accepted arc of life, passages rounded with a little sleep.

But now our lives are like fever charts, the jogging needle of unpredictability which asks for constant stimulation and nutrition. My head vibrates. Snack Me says my brain.

Will this do? A pretty lacy little bowl made from rice noodles which holds sautéed jerk chicken tossed in Scotch bonnet, the blowtorch chili, sauce with ginger and mango puree $17. We have two mouthfuls apiece. Perfect.

***Lee 603 King W. 416-504 7867 no wheelchair access. Dinner for two plus tax – four dishes $104. Lee is now open for lunch.

A ‘cept too crazy

I’d have loved to be a fly on the wall when developer Jeff O’Brien and Anthony Miceli of the  Uniq Lifestyle Group were blueskying  the Roosevelt Room.  This new supper club in the city’s dmz aka entertainment ghetto started out as a lavish tribute to Hollywood in the twenties, and the art deco style of Hollywood’s Roosevelt Hotel,with food  inspired by the first Oscar dinner which was given at the hotel in 1927.

This is such a cockamamie idea that I can’t believe there wasn’t someone on the team who didn’t cry “push the reset button”.  First, the name. When I heard it I thought what’s a glitzy joint being named after Franklin D of depression fame. Was this to be a Hooverville serving shantytown food?

Now if the owners had filched the name Stork it would have been different . The Stork Club of the forties was the paradigm of the genre – “the New Yorkiest of all New York restaurants” wrote Walter Winchell, café society scribe.  Its owner Sherman Billingsley had his own room for glitterati, dubbed the Cub room or the snub room depending on  your status. In the movie All About Eve, a scene was shot in the Cub room and  Bette Davis,  playing a great Broadway star, immortalized it with her line “Where the elite meet.”

I’ve have certainly shouted reset at the idea of twenties’ food. Prohibition had killed fine dining. The Oscar dinner featured fillet of sole or chicken on toast. There was no booze of course. But I expect everyone was pretty liquored up with bootleg Scotch.

“We’re not going to eat fruit cocktails with marshmallows are we?” said the Bon Vivant anxiously as we arrive. Before confronting the menu however, we have to confront the pushme pullyou space, about half an acre which can be reconfigured to suit  and which holds the humongous total of 450 people. The Design Agency has done a remarkable job making the place coherent with dazzling strips of lighting and chunky furniture. Even so, the Roosevelt room has a transient air as if it could be struck like a tent at a moment’s notice.

We arrive around 7.30 because we’ve been told to eat early before the live music arrives and the dining spaces are turned into dance floors and the booths into bottle tables. We enter through the bar, now being propped up by a few habitués, and are then led past a curtained dining area which looks like an adhoc room in a tourist hotel, to a more elegant area with zippier lighting.

There we dine in state – and entirely alone. We love it.

Champagne juleps seem in order $12.18. Now to the menu. Someone did apparently push back because executive chef Trevor Wilkinson, who has his own eponymous restaurant, has put together a familiar luxe menu designed for those with bounceproof plastic.

As we order, we ask our friendly waiter how long the place has been open. His reply deserves the Distinguished Service Order. The Roosevelt Room has been open atleast two months, it’s taken a bit of a pasting in the press and on the blogs, but he says straightfaced that it’s now having a soft opening with a big party planned for March.

I have the torchon of foie gras $17.95 with toasted brioche and it’s just fine. Bon Vivant is not so lucky with the braised rabbit and pancetta tagliatelle $15.95 with white truffle oil and shaved reggiano – “Not enough truffle, not enough butter, not rich enough”.

And  the lobster thermidor $35.95, an ultra luxe food, where chopped lobster in Mornay sauce is served in the lobster shell, is merely a dish of a few lobster chunks with bitter greens in sauce. No drama, too little lobster.

I do better with USDA prime filet $31.95 cooked rare, served with roasted roots. We look for something flambéed and find Baked Alaska $14.95 a crown of blue flames over cascading meringue jacketing ice cream with a berry heart. The blood orange tart was rather an anticlimax $8.95.

As we leave, we catch the silent flick on the screen. Someone called Marie appears to be shouting for help. Reset, we want to cry – with the unedited single shot of Fred Astaire and Eleanor Powell tapdancing…

*The Roosevelt Room 2 Drummond Place, 416-599 9000. Wheelchair Access. Dinner for Two: food plus tax $148

Up in the Supper Club

Is Up In the Air prescient or what? When George Clooney wanders off alone at the end, was he confirming the trend to anomie?

To find out I drop in on Ciao, the new supper club on Yorkville, right opposite the Hazelton Hotel. The supper club genre, an all-in-one-experience, a big, loud entertainment centre  with food and drink thrown in, seems made for George Clooney’s character, a guy who chalks up l0 million miles in the air, flying the country as a firing facilitator, never stopping anywhere long enough to stick.

Ciao, the brainchild of The Liberty Grand Entertainment Group which has brought the city Spice Route, Rosewater, Splash, Courthouse,  places where it’s easy to forget yourself, is plenty smart. Unlike Flow, the previous tenant of 133 Yorkville, which had an LED projection which kept changing the colour of the façade, Ciao’s exterior is elegant and dark with tiny red pilot lights. Inside, I am confronted with one of the most convoluted spaces in any restaurant, a choice of three floors– I almost need a GPS to get me to the right place.

If I turn right after I enter, I am in the bar with a two story backdrop reflecting the red and black motif and three large plasma screens (showing Good Fellas but real Italian cinema is promised later on).    Or I can walk down to the wine cellar which is now the  pizza parlour and opens on weekends for the GTA’s  avid pizza fans. Luckily the Maitre D is a good traffic cop , and after he’s said “Ciao”, he points me  to the right, up a winding stair to the dining floor. As I do so I pass diners in a nook. It’s all very busy.

We’re seated on the banquette that runs down the centre of what might be the top deck of a cruise ship – choicest spots for people watching – against the rails. The décor is becomingly dark with soft lighting, a twinkle of red here and there, Huge vases have been turned upside down and hung with Edison lights.  The DJ is tucked away round the corner, spinning Euro-music to chill out by. The staff is dressed by Diesel. The atmosphere is moody. We were skeptical when we came in, expecting a superficial format, but now we’re impressed by the smooth professionalism.

We skim through the stylish menu, umber cardboard, skipping the full page of pizzas, hopping over all the  favourites,  the page of pastas, insalate, salumeria and alight on  antipasto. Right there is deepfried zucchini flowers stuffed with ricotta and parmigiano $12, but we didn’t notice the words seasonal. Too bad. Instead we have baked artichokes stuffed with parmigiano and Italian parsley, seasoning is just right if there are rather too many breadcrumbs $11. The perfect slivers of beef carpaccio $16 are garnished with arugula and shavings of parmigiano.

There are only two second courses, both change daily. The fish today is a dish of mussels, clams, shrimp, the most delicate calamari, some white fish all in a hot spicy tomato ragu $26. The alternative is lamb, three generous chops, $25, deliciously pink with superb potatoes, marvelously fluffy in their roasted skins. Grilled fennel and peppers are pungent counterpoints and so is the hot pepper pickle condiment.

We raise our glasses of Wayne Gretzky Chardonnay $11 (not quite a slapshot from the Great One)to an excellent dinner and to the chef, Roberto Punzo, a longtime veteran of local restaurants and most recently owner of his own eponymous catering company. We have to look over desserts – one seems particularly tempting, semifreddo with cool frangelico zabaglione and berries. Better still, it’s superb.

Ciao covers three demographics, according to my count –  twentysomethings for pizza, the middleaged for dining,  guys for the bar.  There’s nothing wrong with this businesslike approach to pleasing the public – and yet it seems a little coldblooded.  The food here is quite a lot better and no more expensive than several neighbourhood restaurants I’ve been to, and yet the local restaurants have been more engaging. A good dinner isn’t just good cooking, it’s an idea spun by an individual, warts and all, and whose personality influences the eater’s enjoyment. Such communication is energizing. It’s very restful to relax in such a bland enviro as Ciao’s.  I feel good as I leave but I also feel rather like a robot.

Ciao 133 Yorkville 416-925-2143 No wheelchair access Two stars for food. Dinner for two plus tax $100

Scrooge’s Roast Goose

Toronto in Dickensian mood. The skies are lowering, the wind cruel, bottle pickers roam the streets for unreturned wine bottles, a few hoodies sprawl across the tables in the food mall. The malls have banned the Salvation Army’s bells, but outside Holt’s, the Sallyann’s brass band is playing some Mendelsohn,  Hark the Herald Angels Sing, while along Bloor, the Church of the Redeemer is advertising a reading of A Christmas Carol. All that’s missing is Tiny Tim’s Roast Goose.

Hmm. A problem. Since the demise of the once thriving Hungarian strip on Bloor between Spadina and Bathurst, notably the deli, Elizabeth, goose has been a rare treat downtown. But now I’ve found goose on a menu. C 5 at the Royal Ontario Museum is offering a Holiday Menu — $66 for three courses including Roast Goose.

As I make my way to C5, I ponder the goose. Roast/braised goose is many Europeans’ Yuletide feast and and before the age of the mass produced turkey, the English preferred it too. The hospitably large turkey is Toronto’s overwhelming favourite says Marlon Pather of The Butchers, but he adds “Goose is getting more popular.” Not Canada geese! He is expecting a few choice Pilgrim Geese from Elora, among other imports.

Like a duck, the goose is mostly bones and its darkling meat is strong almost gamey,  because unlike those wusses, chicken and turkey, it flies. Delicious fat pours from it. My parents penned a few geese, dreaming of roast goose stuffed with foie gras and prunes, garnished with crimson cabbage and chestnuts – the acme of a feast – only to come up against reality. Geese are rural gangsters. They broke out and terrorized the village,  trampling cabbage patches, hissing menacingly.

When I arrive at C5, I discover the goose is still a spoiler. Ted Corrado, the chef, has a sad tale to tell. The goose is off the menu because he was dissatisfied with the quality. I swallow my disappointment. In holiday spirit we make up our own festive dinner.  First we nibble a ricotta cheese roll with smoked butter. The smoker is the fad du jour. The smoked mackerel rillette with flat bread is a crowd pleaser. Then we have a superb seafood plate: a scallop with sea urchin, smoked mackerel with strings of beet coloured cabbage, ceviche shrimp and a tender chunk of octopus tentacle.

We sample goose’s replacement, tender enough pieces of pheasant but the flavour comes from the rich dollop of black pepper hollandaise on top. The accompaniments are fine:  prune bread pudding, potato hash and ginger cabbage. But for festive eating, nothing beats the pan fried fresh foie gras and chunk of rare squab corn with manchego tamale, poblano pepper, and a reduction of peach and tequila.  Dessert is good too: a spiced Yule log, a brittle tube stuffed with chestnut mousse and adorned with piquant blood orange sorbet.

We admire Corrado and his chef de cuisine Luigi Encarnacion for exquisitely rendered pointillist cooking – a lot of complexity in a small package. Corrado reminds me of the chef Marcus Eaves of L’Autre Pied in London, a one Michelin star place, where intricate combinations come in even smaller packages. The eater must concentrate, pause, eat more, contemplate. This isn’t intended to be a blow-out – it’s an attenuated experience, each mouthful savoured.

The service is prompt and informative. Full disclosure, our dinner was comped because of the change in menu, the computer breakdown which prevented reservations, and other problems.

‘Tis the season to be uncritical, but my inner Scrooge cannot ignore the shoddy way  ROM treats C 5. Communications are a mess. The website isn’t updated. Don’t even try calling the restaurant: a voice message tells you they’re on the other line. I left my number and forgettaboutit. First excuse was that the computer was down. But when I called to check prices after the dinner, I had the same problem.

There’s only one elevator, the restaurant’s dedicated entrance is sometimes closed. We came in separately through the museum entrance. Two guards wanted to inspect my 5×8 inch purse! Atleast the elevator took me to the fifth floor. My companion was told to take another elevator to the fourth floor, then climb the stairs. The fourth floor was so crowded he couldn’t find the stairs.

Funny but sad too.

** and a half stars.C 5 at the Royal Ontario Museum, 100 Queen’s Park. 416 586 7928 wheelchair accessible.  Menus change daily. Holiday Menu with tax  $150 for two.

The Earth didn’t Move.………There is such a thing as being horribly good. Take the tale of Bertha, the little girl who was so good that she won medals for goodness which she always wore pinned to her dress. So good, wrote Saki, the Englishman who limned absurdity with a black crayon, that the Prince invited her to play in his park – where she was eaten by a wolf drawn to her by the sound of  the medal for obedience clinking against the medals for good conduct and punctuality.

This little morality tale comes spontaneously to mind when I read the latest bulletins about the innate goodness of eating fresh’n’local. FnL proselytizers tend to  bathe themselves in a saintly glow, to project the notion that they are creating goodness, supporting farms, saving the planet etc, some even maintain that the higher cost of FnL is a good thing in an obese society. Sometimes FnL sounds like self-righteous elitism.

Anyway, the proof of the doctrine/ pudding is in the eating.  How good is the cook?

To find out, I am going to Earth ( think global, eat local) newly opened at 1055 Yonge at Roxborough. Right away I’m impressed. Ed Ho, the owner of Globe Bistro, is putting the power of FnL on line: can goodness conquer a space that is the deathstar in the city’s restoscape. In the eighties, the posh pasta place Cibo was a hit. Since then, 1055 has routinely ambushed every culinary comer.

We walk into night. Earth is mostly black with crystal bubbles for lights. Even the staff wears black but they’re very cheerful. A discreet track of James Brown is playing. There is a small huddle at the bar which may fill the gap caused by the recent demise of Lakes as Rosedale’s chosen hang. A dusting of locals are observed drinking dry martinis. “Very upper east side” says my companion drawing on years in Manhattan.

First thing on the menu that catches my eye  is “From the local butcher.” Locally sourced meat, Cumbrae’s dry aged tenderloin, Haldimand County lamb rack, may be cut to order, bought by the ounce. What a great idea for those, like me, who prefer small steaks.

The menu is pocked with nuggets. Warm herbed biscuits come first to the table. We give a fist bump to crisp Ewenity goat cheese curds dunked in smoked tomato ketchup, and another to white fish fritters, both $5.  Elk  Tartare $12 lacks bracing spice and the cooked quail’s egg does nothing for it.

Now to the main event, a suckling pig slow roasted in the wood oven. $25.( That should be “sucking pig” incidentally. A piglet sucks, a mother suckles).   A wonderful smell precedes it to the table.. But one look at the pale maturing meat prompts the question – how large is this pig? The kitchen says 30 lbs. 30 lbs! Why that’s a teenager. A true sucking pig is ideally 9 lbs, 20 at a stretch. When I had my sucking pig adventure, the smallest pig I could find at the St.Lawrence Market was 16 pounds. Roasted, the meat fell on the plate in pale pink fragrant petals. Even so, tonight’s overaged piglet is delectable, if slightly overcooked, and with ok crackling. The black sausage is blessedly light, the “local” beans are well, dried cranberry beans. The star of the plate is a smoked cherry tomato.

Alas, there are no stars to be handed out to the Yarmouth lobster stew. $25. Minuscule bite of lobster in a sea of more “local”  white beans with watery “bisque” sauce.

Startled by the assumption of virtue in “local” dried beans – is our gastronomic winter to be measured out in local dried beans ?, we turn to the $6 sides for something more truly FnL. Wood roasted mushrooms are pleasant enough but the Yukon frites don’t have the advertised “smoked salt.”  The only other veg are baby spinach and carrots – What, no timely roots like parsnips or black salsify?

We think Ed Ho is dicing with more than a blighted locale. A slogan does not a good restaurant make. Where for example is the chef?  I enjoyed Kevin McKenna’s winterlicious menu last year at the Globe. Now I learn he’s still at the Globe and only comes here on busy nights. But without McKenna’s presence, will there be busy nights?

** Earth, Think Global Eat Local 1055 Yonge St 416-551-9890

Wheelchair Access. Dinner for two, food plus tax: $95

Cinq 01 defines the decade

As the first decade of the 21^st century ends, I celebrate by going to a restaurant that defines eating out in the noughties – the resto-lounge. A resto-lounge is the anti-restaurant: It’s a rejection of formal dining and of intimate bistros, a play for the young and the restless (millennials, echoboomers, Y gen) who want to play as they eat. The style is metrosexual fashionista. The resto lounge must be designed to startle and amuse – a cross between an amusement arcade and a theatrical production. The music must be loud. The cocktails custom made. The food must be luxe and cosmopolitan, preferred delivery is the shared plate.

At first, resto lounges were not taken very seriously – and Oh, the noise. But as the food got better, they couldn’t be ignored by anyone who wanted to eat well. Roger Mooking at Nyood has a Mediterranean -inspired menu – rack of lamb with apricot fig glaze, violet artichokes, taro, tapenade- that is more alluring than many menus in more conventional dining spots.

Now RL culture is creeping up the food chain, breaking up traditional patterns, shaping new ones. Shared plates are today everywhere.  One of the first major chefs who  incorporated the RL rhythms was Claudio Aprile at Colborne Lane: the room glitters with Morticia’s menace, and his techno emotional cooking morphs smoothly into the later bar scene. Recently the Rubino Brothers opened Ame in a shimmering Shogun’s palace, replete with jujube cocktails.

As my emblematic RL, I pick the just opened Cinq O1, College west of Bathurst. The owner Toufik Sarwa is one of Toronto’s enduring players with the perennially successful Amber on Yorkville, a white on white subbasement that blossoms with a patio in the Summer.

Sarwa calls Cinq 01 a bistro, I call it second gen RL: a refinement of the format. It looks like a luxury dining railroad car, a long skinny space divided into bar and dining room. The lighting, part of Commute Home’s deceptively simple design, is so soft and glowing that it lures you in. A sexy joint. Just one or two quirky touches, some lights are encased in what looks like scarlet birdcages.

We arrive at 7, de rigueur if you wish to eat with pleasure at a resto lounge. After 8.30 the noise rises sharply. The room is almost empty at this early hour and we get fine and interested service.

The split pea soup $11 with ham, chestnuts, hazelnuts and seared sweetbreads is tempting, but we opt for a terrific pureed garlic soup $11, made with chicken broth, cream and garnished with a seared scallop. Grilled octopus $21 is a test – octopus is so often tough. But here the tentacles are chopped into tender morsels spiked with sherry vinegar, lemon and olive oil, chopped spring onions and capers.

The moment I see there’s a foie gras hot dog with onion confit and mango ketchup I must have it.  A goodsized sausage arrives and the first bite reveals the most unctuous mouthfeel, like 88% percent butter fat butter but even richer. However the aftertaste is a letdown -  the sausage meat/foie gras ratio is out of whack. What I’m eating is a creamy Bratwurst with only a fugitive flavour of foie gras. The bun is low rent housing for such a luxury dog, and the French fries don’t meet the McDonald’s standard.

Now the chef Jo Castrinos (formerly of Splendido) comes through with a superb dish, little pink lamb rib chops with Moroccan spices with a Provencal vegetable gratin , glazed potatoes, a zap of mint coriander chutney and creamy Lebanese taratur sauce. $33.  The fish of the day is Black Grouper, $39,  a handsome hunk and perfectly seared. It’s just that the grouper’s flavour is irresolute, perhaps because it’s a transgender fish. A bath is needed in something like the accompaniment of delicious spiced lentils and olives.

We didn’t plan on dessert but then Toufik’s trio of tarts arrived and we couldn’t resist white chocolate banana cream. A feathery croustade of armagnac laced apples and prunes with vanilla bean ice cream was even better.

We left around 10 as the room filled up and decibel levels rose. Now we notice the gym horse in the middle of the room. Perhaps bondage is planned later in the evening…..

** 1/2 two and a half stars Cinq 01 501 College St 416-964 1555. No wheelchair access. Dinner for two: food plus tax $150

TIFF Guide to Restaurants ( will be added to daily…)

Toronto restaurants will get their biggest boost of the year during TIFF which opens this week. Visitors should have no trouble distinguishing Toronto from Vancouver or Montreal, neither which city has anything like the variety or substance or sheer entertainment of Toronto, which is a true melting pot of food. But be warned eager eater, you need advice to know where to go and how much it’s gonna cost, and how easy it is to find….and so on….which are the show places, where the good deals, which restaurants are uniquely Toronto…..

The following list will be updated regularly….all opinions are my own, most taken from published reviews….

Prices $ – cheap. $$ entrée under 20 $$$ entrée over 20

New! Ame, 19 Mercer St. 416 599 7246. a block from the Bell Lightbox. The Rubino Brothers makeover of Rain (Ame) is a shogun’s palace with jujube cocktails, a eurotake on Japanese food, shared plates, great fish on the mellow robrata grill, $$(Reviewed Sept 12)

New!    Liberty Noodle 171 East Liberty St. 15 mins from downtown, south of King. cab it. 416.588.4100 Looks like a commissary a Chinese assembly line. Still soft opening, no liquor yet, lunch only.

Lucien, 36 Wellington E. 416-504-9990, six blocks crosstown from BL. Elegant MOR with mild molecular influence, meat, veg sourced locally. Bar scene. Price $$$

Frank at Art Gallery of Ontario 317 Dundas Street W. 416-979-8888. Few blocks n. of BL. Eclectic menus emphasizing fresh/local  for weekend brunch, weekday lunch and dinner. $$$ Basement caff a downer.

C 5 at Royal Ontario Museum,100 Queen’s Park, 416-586-7928, ck website for hours. cab from BL. Green gastronomy, local sourcing, fusion twinge. $$$ Basement caff if you like sight of walking legs.

Sidecar Bar and Grill, 577 College, 416-536-7000.  cab from BL. Unpretentious  food, dinner, gt service.  Grilled steak,salmon, weekday prix fixe $24.plus cocktails. $

Mildred’s Temple Kitchen ,85 Hanna Ave 416-588-5695, ten min cab from BL. Space station feeling with all over the map menus, burgers to pork and beans and up..lunch, dinner, weekend brunch. E $$-$$$

Lakes restaurant and wine bar, 1112 Yonge. 416-966-0185. Cab or  Yonge subway to Rosedale, walk few blocks no. Pleasant Asian take on bistro faves $$

Trio ristorante and pizzeria, 3239 Yonge St 416-486-5786. Cab or Yonge subway to Lawrence, walk no 3 blocks. Naples in Toronto, the only authentic Neapolitan pizza, famous also for gnocchi. $

Le Gourmand, Hudson Bay food court (underneath store, by subway) LG3  32177 Yonge St. @ Eglinton  on Yonge subway.$ pastrymeister/panini in french cafe,  152Spadina (adelaide) 416-504-4499

Far Niente 187 Bay St (416) 214-9922.$$$ Glossy slick bay street broker destination with MOR menu delivered with flair.

Batifole Bistro 744 Gerrard Street East(416) 462-9965 $$ cab it. Excellent French cooking on modest scale.

Madeline’s, 601 King Street West (416) 603-2205 $$ 10  mins from Lightbox. Sophisticated Eurofusion on shared plates

Tiff Menu….Food is often the plat du jour in today’s movies. Now it’s time to match the movies to the real thing.

The Road, based on Cormac McCarthy’s dystopian novel, will send orthorexics, those who trash processed food and those who eat it, viral. All Viggo Mortenson and Kodi Smit-McPhee can glean from the apocalyptic devastation is canned food. A coke’s never looked so good. Nor will a big fat steak from Toronto’s finest, Harbour Sixty (60 Harbour St. 416 777 2111) Harbour Sixty Bone in Rib Steak $51.95. Starter: pan seared foie gras, mango, icewine reduction $38.95.

Cooking with Stella could be a food network show: Canadian diplomat /chef  Don McKellar gets cooking lessons in the complex art of Indian cooking from embassy housekeeper Seema Biswa. Taste buds will be activated full time so moviegoers are encouraged to make tracks for the fine Ayurveda cuisine at Curry Twist ( for 3034 Dundas W. 416-769-54600 – a bit of a hitch from downtown) for Baigan Bharta ,smoked mashed eggplant 9.95  Salmon in creamy masala sauce $13. house specials like Curry Twist Chicken.

Creation is a serious go at sexing up science, Charles Darwin as a human rather than an ape. On his deathbed, he allegedly reflected that sandwiches disproved evolution. So skip the food for thought and visit an oyster bar for fine array of mollusks from Malpeques to Galway Flats, Kumamotos, Belon– Rodney’s by Bay (56 Temperance, 416-703-5111) or Starfish Oyster Bed & Grill (100 Adelaide E 416-366 7827).

Capitalism – A Love Story. What agro artist Michael Moore got up his supersized sleeve. Take him seriously and book in advance at The Fifth Grill and Terrace (25 Richmond St. W 416-979-3005), Toronto’s ode to conspicuous consumption on top of Easy nightclub. Now offering a summer prix fixe  $39 for three courses, $49 for four, including filet mignon with bearnaise, asparagus risotto.

Jennifer’s Body is about a cheerleader (Megan Fox) turned cannibal, an insatiable Carrie with real teeth. Keep fright night going at  Blowfish(  668 King St W 416 –860-0606 ) music bouncing off the walls, with quick eats,  crispy crab, shrimp and scallop with lemon and tamari kewpie dips $10, roasted duck breast with fresh papaya, mango and honey pineapple sauce $22.

The Informant! Matt Damon is the whistleblower at Archer Daniels Midland — which is charged with cornering corn, one of the cornerstones of our processed food diet. If you’re dining with an organichead, find meat that isn’t finished with corn – like the filet of horse at Osteria Ciceri e Tria (106 Victoria St. 416-955-0258) taken from a Chinese style menu where nothing is more than $15.

The Men who stare at Goats. George Clooney, Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges are new age warriors  with paranormal techniques. Among them, they stare at goats and kill them.  Can’t face meat, so visit Ichi Riki (120 Bloor E 416-923-2997) and be entertained by Riki, maestro and storyteller of the  raw fish narrative. Horse mackerel sashimi $9, yellow tail $13.

The Young Victoria. Early life of racy Empress of India glimpsed in demure Emily Blunt who’s getting it on with Rupert Friend. Only the place to be seen will do for afterwards. The terrace at One in the Hazelton Hotel (118 Yorkville 416 961 9600) for grilled Dover sole with orange and hazelnut brown butter – market price.

Dorian Gray, Colin Firth and Ben Barnes  now play the corrupter and corruptee in Oscar Wilde’s danse macabre, Dorian Gray. Right place is elegant French hang the $58 prix fixe at Didier (1496 Yonge 416 925-8588) eggs in ramekins, black truffle, foie gras, Madeira sauce, sea bass and Hollandaise, contre-filet and frites.

Atom Egoyan’s Chloe is a steamy triangulated tale of sexual jealousy starriing Juliannne Moore, Liam Neesom, Amanda Seyfried. Prepare for screening with breakfast at Union (72 Ossington Ave, 416-850-0093) in the city’s hot neighbourhood, the nearest thing to a Paris café, pastis, homemade baguette, or an  early lunch pork and shrimp burger topped with a fried egg $12.

The Invention of Lies posits that without lies, there is no fantasy or fiction. After writer Ricky Gervais tells his first lie, his world turns upside down.  Digest this wisdom at Splendido (88 Harbord St 929 7788) and celebrate with pappardelle, pulled rabbit, artichokes $17, and particularly the cheese plate featuring  Canadian winners like Avonlea Clothbound Cheddar, Fifth Town’s hard goat cheese, Quebec’s Grey owl and more at $7 a slice.

How You gonna keep Teo down on the farm now that he’s seen Paree?

A young chef, Teo Paul, spent  a decade in Paris, most of it cooking at an eclectic bar/grill SoMo and hanging out at his second home, Au Petit Fer à Cheval,a famous little café in the Marais, the old Jewish ghetto.  Then he came back to Toronto to recreate it.

Good for him.  Fer a Cheval –little horsehoe- boasts a horsehoe bar upfront of a tiny café  is in the warmest of Parisian traditions – everyone is welcome and the food is simple but good – atleast that was my impression years ago.

When I first heard of Teo Paul he was writing a blog for Toronto Life. It was August 2008 and he was about to open Union on Ossington’s burgeoning gastro-strip, just a few steps north of the men’s detox centre. But fall drifted into winter as Paul struggled to keep ahead of reno and red tape. He was in the weeds by spring. Still, he soldiered on, a superb marketer.

Now the chickens or rather tout Toronto have come home to roost. Paul finally opened Union in July and Joel Rebuchon himself couldn’t have made a bigger splash. When I get there,  the suits are texting, National Post scandalsleuth Shinan Govani  is activating his blackberry three times before the wine arrives. LG3 owner Milton Nunes is here for a second taste. Not to mention the locals chowing down at the bar or the chef’s bar by the open kitchen.

Union has the Ossington look – laid back, a shoebox tucked inside an old brick shell, the little horseshoe bar in the window, about thirty seats and an open kitchen, earth colours, a farmyard mural on one wall, green and white leafy upholstery on the chairs. Very welcoming.

It also has the organic rhythm of the all day Paris café opening at 9 for the first slug of Pastis and coffee and croissants, an egg dish, and Paul’s own baguette, made with an apple starter. The daytime menu is handwritten, just what the chef’s decided to cook. When I drop by for lunch, I bypass steak frites for a pork and shrimp burger on a perfect ring of rosti potatoes, for once properly cooked, crisp on top, creamy within, and topped with a fried egg , a little dash of Asian sauce, Mirin vinegar, ginger, sugar $12.  Such unapologetic simplicity seems very sophisticated. The glass of Gruner Veltliner Rudolph Rabi $8.50 is a mellow complement.

The dinner menu is printed, about ten standard dishes and also a soup du jour, plat du jour and fish of the day. Again, the emphasis is on informality. Eat how and what you like.  Paul has the  French  respect for the egg as an A I ingredient and not just for breakfast. I can’t pass up  the Truffle Fonduto $9, a shimmery poached egg slipped into a musty sauce, ground truffles and a mild cheese, and served with soldiers, the English nursery name for little logs of toast.  Seared Rabbit Terrine $8 is mild and smooth with chive clotted cream and a spark of jalapeno salsa,  while the Elk Sliders, mini burgers, are rare and juicy with an Asian glaze of mirin and galangal (a lemony ginger), bracketed by slices of sweet challah bread, spiked by a little pickle.

Three big sticky ribs on a long plate with crisp pork belly $17 are meaty finger food and the sauce isn’t too sweet. Roast chicken’s just come out of the oven, $55 for the whole thing, $18 for a quarter. Perfectly cooked, skin crackling, the meat tender, sweet barnyard smell of cooked fowl, and we have a dish of vegetables, the Swiss chard is particularly good, crunchy and a little bitter. The frites falter, they’re bronzed enough but soft. Desserts? The honey and lavender icecream is fragrant but the fruit crumble and bread pudding lack commitment, ie , Paul can’t have a sweet tooth.

No doubt about it, Paul has raised the bar for Ossington food. He’s an excellent cook with few pretensions. Exotica is perfectly controlled as an accent, otherwise the emphasis is on the basic ingredients.

Service is laid back, much more agreeable than the usual Ossington je ne sais quoi.  But the noise! Paris cafes are noisy of course but Union adds the boom box beat. I understand. In Paris, the café has longtime habitués. In Toronto, music is the lure.  Just hope it doesn’t deep six the food.

** 1/2 Union
72 Ossington Ave, 416-850-0093 No wheelchair access. Very noisy. Food for two plus tax:$100

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I drank Liquid Plumber and survived!

I had a lot of work to do in the past week – wrapping my head around the idea of raw cuisine – the experience of eating only LIVE foods unprocessed and organic, no salt or sugar.  I’m not interested in the controversy over the health benefits of raw food versus cooked food. All I want to do is  find out  whether an omnivore, raised on butter, eggs, steak, lobster, can eat raw with gusto.

LIVE seems the right place to go: a popular raw food place on Dupont – bright orange chairs inside, a simple patio with pretty Indian decorations and heat shielding umbrellas. A freight train rumbles by providing an interesting sound effect. The clientele is young and in campus grunge, sandals, jeans, tee shirts. Wielding chopsticks, they eat large bowls of food which appear to contain grains and veg.

I feel I’ve entered a time warp. Sixties redux. Only thing missing – Bob Dylan singing Blowin in the wind.

The menu is splendid, a virtual bible of alternate eating ingredients and their benefits. Apart from the raw dishes, LIVE also serves food cooked according to Macrobiotic and Ajurvedic principles, and it has two pages of drinks, from organic wine and beer to smoothies, boosters and tinctures. Getting into the moment, I order an elixir Liquid Plumber $7.25, which contains kale, cucumber, celery, dandelion, lemon, skipping the the detoxifying Milk Thistle.

OMG they’ve given me the real thing! I feel like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby choking on a big sinisterly bitter draught.

To take away the taste I order an Aloe Agave Tango cocktail $ 6.25, fruits and one oz organic green hemp vodka, a tiny foamy glass of unspecified taste.

Now to the raw food. On two visits, I rate highest the soft tacos filled with ground walnuts, salsa verde and guacamole with cashew aioli on the side. Satisfying mouthful. The tacos themselves are made from raw corn mixed with dried tomatoes, among other things. Two of them make a very large starter $12.75.

There’s a lotta food too on the $18 combo plate of three entrees. A Portobello mushroom is served with mashed nuts, cashew and almond, onions, with a brisk kale salad $15. Not bad if a bit gooey.

But why invite invidious comparison by calling it Steak and Potatoes? The comparison doesn’t favour raw food. Ditto Spaghetti and Neatballs.  Veggie neatball was pleasing, and I suspect the whole dish would have been more so if it hadn’t been forced into a comparison with the far juicier, spicier real thing.

As for almond “parmesan” – aw c’mon rawfooders.  You’re sitting on your message.

Why isn’t the raw food served simply so it can be enjoyed for just what it is?

I know I know, the descriptions may be monotonous, veggies, nuts, nuts, veggies but if that’s what the food is, so be it.

While I gnawed the bricklike buckwheat crust of Pizza M’on topped with curry “cheese” $13, I found myself longing for the invigorating spicing of Indian vegetarian curries. But of course, Indian curry is cooked. Now I wonder if the cooked food here is going to be better.

Yes, the avocado  tempura $6.50 eaten with Korean kimchi (pickled cabbage) has real chops, texture and taste. Although forget the word tempura as it’s generally known. The two avocado halves have a skin of browned millet.  And my first taste of Tempeh “Crab Cakes” $14 almost had me fooled. The consistency is close to lump crabmeat and when garnished with chipotle aioli was surprisingly lively. But it’s poised on a Vesuvius of a plate that erupts with veggies, brown rice, only mildly seasoned, and a distressingly anemic sweet potato puree.

My companion asks for iced tea. “We don’t have iced tea” replies the waiter. Actually they do– they have lots of tea which if they were willing, could be instantly iced. The ‘tude is a turn off.

Overall, the experiment is disappointing. Omnivores and Raw fooders are a different species and I don’t think crossover is possible. The chief drawback is the lack of spice notably the greatest – salt – which is taboo.

Of course, the help could be more helpful but questions about the food and ingredients are met with impatience. There is no interest in reaching out to anyone who isn’t already in the cult.

*LIVE Organic Food Bar 264 Dupont 416-515 2002
No Wheelchair Access. Not noisy. Food for two plus tax: $48