It’s been a tough week in the personal lives of the Everyman and I.
Suffice it to say that I won’t be going into it here, but we both realized that we were disillusioned about a major aspect of our lives. And we’ve decided that adjustments and corrections must be made.
In trying to end the week on a more positive note, I’d offered to take the Everyman to his favorite restaurant for dinner, Cowbell. The first time I offered he was too down to accept, but the second time he decided he was game. So, to Parkdale we would go…
I must agree, Cowbell is probably one of my favorite Toronto restaurants too. Mark Cutrara just gets it. He’s local and seasonal without being gimmicky. And, he’s clearly respectful of all the animals that he serves, since he’s made a business model of wasting as little of them as possible. It doesn’t hurt that I could call on a Friday night (not being a notable VIP either) and still get a seating in the busy restaurant either.
We started with a cold duck consomme with corn and watercress, and beef carpaccio with a roasted tomato puree. We had intended to enjoy half of each dish and then switch, but the Everyman liked the consomme so much that he didn’t want to give it up. I had a few spoons, and it was amazing, with just a clean, pure essence of duck and corn. The carpaccio was spectacular too, but every time I have ordered it there it has been. The Everyman’s verdict; “It’s just so GOOD” followed by a claim this afternoon that he could’ve had that consomme for breakfast this morning.
For the main course the Everyman had a Cowbell burger, which was essentially the same as the last time he had it, except that this time it featured back bacon instead of pork belly. The Everyman is not usually a fan of back bacon, but the burger was to die for, especially with the sharp, aged cheddar. I probably stole half of the fries on his plate and could not quite put a finger to the source of their deliciousness. While I was enjoying my meal, a plate of three cuts of pork, braised belly, jowl and cotechino sausage with fennel kimchee, chef Mark happened to walk through the dining room to survey all that had come to worship him that night. The Everyman’s eyes were following him around the room, so I playfully suggested that he might have a man-crush on Cutrara. To which the Everyman responded that he did, because as he put it, “Mark happens to be very good at something that is very near and dear to many men’s hearts… meat”. High praise for the chef indeed. I thoroughly enjoyed my entree, especially the pork belly, which melted from the heat of my tongue. The cotechino was a surprise hit too, with it’s mixture or pork rinds and ground pork meat and spices.
For dessert I opted to order a banana chiboust, though it turned into quite the comedy of errors. When the waitress stopped by our table I asked her what a chiboust was, and she answered, “It’s like a chiboust!” which caused quite a bit of laughter at our table. It turns out she meant to say that it was like a chilled mousse, which was good enough for me. Chef Cutrara was watching our table from the bar at this point, and he seemed to favor stroking his beard rather thoughtfully as he did it. I mentioned to the Everyman that with that kind of beard the chef reminded me of a kindly billy goat. I don’t think that either of us will ever look at him the same way again. When my chiboust arrived, it was served with two chocolate truffles, vanilla ice cream and a lineup of raspberries. And some form of crumble that contained walnuts, which meant that the Everyman couldn’t eat it. Cursed walnuts. It must be said that the kitchen did wholeheartedly offer to replate a new dessert without the nut crumble, but the Everyman decided against it because he was so full. Having never eaten a chiboust before I unfortunately have no frame of reference for this, but it was creamy and banana-y, if slightly too gelatinous. The truffles were delicious, but by the time I got around to them I was also too full to properly enjoy them. However, I am a champion eater, so I sucked it up and tossed the last one back in a spoonful of ice cream and crumble.
Pure, unadulterated deliciousness. If my memory serves me correctly, I have never experienced a disappointing meal at Cowbell, and I’m sure I never will.
If the Everyman ever gets around to proposing to me I intend to have our party right here, amidst all of our meaty friends.
Until next time…
Tags: Cowbell, Mark Cutrara, Restaurants, Reviews
