To commemorate 4 years spent not killing each other, the Everyman and I visited Splendido for our anniversary on Monday night.
It was a blustery night, full of fierce winds and drifting snow, but once we entered the dining room the outside world was forgotten, until the table next to us (a mother and son) began kvetching about all manner of nonsense at a fairly audible level. We were lucky that they left before we were halfway through dinner, because they certainly made quite the racket and distraction to our romantic intentions.
To keep things interesting, shortly after we arrived Conviction chef Marc Thuet and his wife sat down at the table behind us, ushered in on a cloud of stale cigarette smoke and dour French arrogance. They seemed to enjoy the food but every time I glanced over, they certainly looked miserable. Such is the life of a minor celebrity, I guess…
At our table, the lovely meal began with a proffering of bread, grissini and hummus, as well as a finger bowl of olives. The Everyman enthusiastically consumed the hummus, while I tentatively nibbled an olive.
Now normally I don’t care for olives at all, but I always make a point of trying them when they are presented to me because as I’ve learned many times before, you just never know when your tastes are bound to change. As it happens, my aversion to olives took a flying leap that evening as I greedily sucked on the briny, meaty flesh. Even the small black olives that accompanied the massive egg-shaped green ones were appealing to me and before I knew it, the tiny teaser plate of house-cured beauties was gone.
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Tags: Carlo Catallo, cerignola, Conviction, David Lee, Marc Thuet, olives, Purveyors, Restaurants, Reviews, Splendido, The Spice Trader, Victor Barry
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I’m paraphrasing the Charlie Brown Christmas song; so sue me. I love Charlie Brown Christmas, what with it’s dorky misfit tree, and Linus carrying his blanket. While it is nowhere near Christmas right now, this song seemed fitting for my next topic; Winterlicious.
I wholeheartedly support the idea of Winterlicious/Summerlicious in the city of Toronto. Not necessarily for the tourism it’s supposed to attract, but because it gets people who wouldn’t normally go out to dinner (because it’s too cost prohibitive) out and into some really great restaurants. And experiencing more than crappy, mass produced food.
I cook probably 90-95% of the food that the Everyman and I eat on a regular basis; I make my own bread, butter, stock, jams, jellies, preserves, ice creams, soups, etc. If there’s a way to make it at home, I probably do. What I can’t make myself I try to source from the most local, organic, sustainable and small businesses I can. But, every now and then you just want someone else to cater to your every whim. Usually when one person in a couple does the majority of the cooking, it’s nice to ease the burden on them occasionally. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I willingly perform all of these tasks because I like to know what’s in my food, or conversely, what’s not. And I love to cook. Growing up with a parent and step-parent in the industry, going to school to learn about it, and even working in it myself for a while, it was only natural that I would develop a love of cooking. But when you think about it, for the person who doesn’t cook, it’s sort of like having a restaurant meal every day.
Winterlicious is going to be my cooking Spring Break of sorts. Of the 150+ restaurants participating this year, the Everyman and I have agreed upon 4 to visit. We each had about half a dozen more that we wanted to check out, but they were vetoed in one way or another. The list of 150 is automatically pared down to reject places that serve Asian food (the Everyman doesn’t like), places that are farther than a 10-15 minute cab ride away (we’re lazy), places that are pretentious, and places that I wouldn’t want to visit even if someone else was paying (most of what’s in the theatre district, Chez Victor obviously not included). I still haven’t managed to get the Everyman to agree on Senses (even though I’m dying to go) but I’m working on it. Every time he looks at their menu, all he says is Blah. My desire to visit has only intensified since I heard that Patrick Lin won the Toronto Gold Medal Plates cook off this year too.
There were a few notable exceptions this year that I had intended to visit, but that didn’t turn up on the list this time. This would include Nota Bene, Colborne Lane, Trevor and Lucien. Maybe they only do the summer version, who knows. I know these sorts of promotions are probably a loss leader anyway, and some people don’t see the value in participating, but I think there is merit. For instance, last summer the Everyman and I went to Czehoski during Summerlicious. We probably wouldn’t have ventured in for another 3 or 4 months otherwise, given the high volume of good food near our house, but after we tried it we liked it so much that we’ve been back a half a dozen times since. It’s walking distance to home, the food is decent, and the cost isn’t outrageous and you’re getting great quality products.
This time around, we settled on Celestin (I’ve wanted to visit ever since I read the article about Pascal Ribreau in Toronto Life; the man is so passionate that nothing will stop him and adversity is clearly not a word in his vocabulary), Noce (it’s Italian, close and I think reminds the Everyman of those glorious years he spent in Abruzzo), Veritas (because I have a soft spot for Brad Long, who thanks to his appearance on Restaurant Makeover I now refer to as the Huckleberry Hound, and because I loved his food at The Pt Club ), and we’ll probably also make a stop in to Czehoski again, just for shits and giggles. Not a bad round up to accomplish in 7 days.
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Tags: Brad Long, Celestin, Chez Victor, Claudio Aprile, Colborne Lane, Czehoski, David Chrystian, David Lee, Lucien, Noce, Nota Bene, Pascal Ribreau, Patrick Lin, PT Club, Restaurants, Senses, Trevor, Veritas, Winterlicious
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Back from Winterpeg and none the worse for wear, the Everyman and I celebrated our third (mainly blissful) year together this past week. To kick off the festivities, I presented the Everyman with a gift for indulging his inner geekdom; a digital comics subscription. Judging from how much time the Everyman has spent with me since Sunday (next to none) and how much he’s been glued to the lappy (a whole lot more) methinks he digs his present.
For his part, the Everyman hit one out of the park this year too. It only took him 3 years to catch on, but the Everyman now seems to be aware how much all women love pretty, sparkly things. He picked out a beautiful, dainty woven bracelet that sparkles in the light like it was made out of diamonds for me. Strangely enough, it was those precious gems that friends assumed when I called to gush over the fact that he’d given me jewelry. As I told my sister, don’t hold your breath, it isn’t what you’re thinking. To which she retorted, will you tell him to get on that already? The fact of the matter is people having been telling him to get on that for years now, from family, to friends, to strange old men we met at a wedding. I’m pretty much convinced that he’s oblivious to all of these comments swirling around us, and I’ve given up on expecting anything from that arena.
Sourcing the meal to mark our special occasion turned out to be harder than I remembered it being in years past. Perhaps it was because this year it fell on a Sunday, the day notoriously known as the chef’s day off. This was also compounded by the fact that Christmas had only just past, and many restaurants have taken to closing during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Every time I found a menu that intrigued me, the restaurant in question was either regularly closed on Sundays and Mondays, or had chosen to close for the holiday week. My list of restaurants to visit in the new year has now ballooned to include Splendido, Nota Bene, Scaramouche, Celestin and The Harbord Room. But the gods finally smiled on us because we managed to find someplace that was not only open, but also had food that intrigued us. And as simple as that the Everyman and I had reservations at Chez Victor in Le Hotel Germain.
I had heard few things about Chez Victor since it opened. I knew that it used to be the Rubinos Italian pet project before that went horribly sour with hotel management, but other than that I had not seen much press one way or the other. Since I used to work just down the street from it, it surprises me that I hadn’t been in until now, but there is so little time and only so much food a person can eat, even though the Everyman and I tend to try to push the boundaries of that on a regular basis.
The first thing to point out is that Chez Victor was empty. During out whole 2 hour visit there were only 4 other tables occupied. Given that it is a restaurant within a boutique hotel that is not all that surprising, but it does become a point of concern later. The room itself is beautiful and dark, the perfect backdrop for a romantic evening with a loved one. We both had a pretty good idea about what we wanted to order from the time we spent perusing the menu at home. Buuuuuut, the restaurant did something that is becoming more and more of a pet peeve of mine lately; they pulled the bait and switch. Instead of offering the menu which was the reason we’d chosen to dine there, they had a “New Years Week” menu only, which was a prix fixe of 3-5 courses which could be paired with wines. I can appreciate that chefs can get bored cooking the same thing every night and like to add variety by preparing special occasion menus, but if you’re going to advertise your regular menu at the same time, then it should be available as well.
Anyhow, the Everyman and I both opted to do the 3 course prix fixe with wine pairings, and it was a very good thing that I decided to be cautious and only order the 3 course, because by the end I was so stuffed I would not have had room for another 2 dishes if I tried. Once our meals had been ordered the Everyman found one of his pet peeves brought to the table; cold butter for the bread. It is a maddening activity to attempt to butter your bread when the substance is ice cold from the walk in. All you end up with is chunks of butter mashed into the bread and a smashed, ruined texture. It is such a simple thing to provide room temperature butter that I cannot fathom why more people don’t do it. The bread also had a faint soapy quality to it, so we stopped nibbling at it and awaited our meals.
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Tags: Celestin, Chez Victor, David Chrystian, David Lee, Nota Bene, Pascal Ribreau, Restaurants, Reviews, Scaramouche, Splendido, The Harbord Room
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