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Saturday, September 24, 2011

off the hook

Off The Hook is a self styled gourmet fish & chip shop that has opened up at Broadview & Danforth in the spot where Deep Blue (the restaurant, not the super computer) used to be. Living in the neighborhood & loving fish & chips as much as any right thinking English people, we tried many times to make it to Deep Blue, but you know how it is; you keep saying I'll go another day, I'll go another day, & when you finally make it, the place has been boarded up. Well we weren't about to let something like that happen to us again! Once we saw that Off The Hook had opened unexpectedly & with minimum fanfare it felt like being given a glorious second chance on life & we popped in one rainy Friday evening.






Just about the only visually pleasing aspect to the decor is the large chalkboard menu above the counter, half of which is pictured above. The remaining half has well priced fish sandwiches, a wide selection of poutines and for dessert, the infamous deep fried mars bar. On special they had fish tacos, which J is really hoping they have on offer next time they visit.


There are plenty of tables for those that want to dine in, & the take out was doing fairly brisk business too; perhaps too brisk, because the service we had was slow & unenthusiastic, or "traditional English style" if you want to put a positive spin on it. 


In all honesty, our expectations were not high, bitter experience having taught us that your chances of finding good fish & chips in Toronto are roughly akin to those of finding a delicate aesthete at a Nickleback concert. Maybe we've been spoiled having sat at Gods right hand & tasted the finest fish & chips anywhere in the world (Bizzie Lizzies, Skipton, UK in case you were wondering). Until recently we had found the fish and chips at Allen's to be the most palatable. However, on the last couple of visits there, the fish had been much smaller and the batter too thick and greasy. Not to mention, it's almost impossible to get a table if the patio isn't open. Not that they care, they know we'll come crawling back to them because the fries, (oh the fries!) are simply divine and really have to be tasted to be believed.







Anyway, last Friday at Off The Hook, J had the halibut, fresh cut fries & homemade tartar sauce & the halibut was almost as good as that incredible fish we had in the UK! The batter was crisp and the thinnest she had every tried. The portion of Halibut was huge, it was thick, flaky and ever so fresh. Every bite had J shaking her head in disbelief. The fries were fairly decent but the tartar was a bit too plain and mayonnaise-y for J's taste. She preferred L's chipotle mayo by far. 


L ordered the sea bass, sweet potato fries & chipotle mayo & had much the same experience as J. If they ever get around to adding "meh" to the Oxford English Dictionary, then flip to the definition & expect to see a picture of the sweet potato fries from Off The Hook. The sea bass though was out of this world, so much better than any other battered fish L has tasted anywhere in North America; like the gulf between Alexander Skarsgard & Rob Ford, technically they are both men but, well you get the idea...    

Conclusion: A visit here would be solely be for the fish. It's miles better than any other place we've tried including Chippy's, Allen's, The One That Got Away and Old Yorke Fish and Chips. Don't go if you're expecting great service, tasteful decor or thoughtful music, though having said that, it's fish & chips! Get over yourself!



Off The Hook on Urbanspoon

Sunday, September 18, 2011

7 numbers

In the interests of full disclosure I should just come right out & say that J & I have been to 7 Numbers on Danforth many many times over the years & will continue to go many more times in the future. J feels that it's the closest she has found to the incredible meals she's been fortunate to eat in Italy over the years. It is a place so firmly ensconced in our regular behaviour that on those admittedly rare occasions when we have a less than great meal here, we pin the blame squarely on ourselves for ordering the wrong thing. Those fiendish bastards have us exactly where they want us.


L started with the linguine with spicy shrimp & roasted tomato. It was either that or lasagne & he figured the shrimp might be more pleasing for you to look at. The plate, much like the restaurant, was rustic bordering on ramshackle but the shrimp was reassuringly plump & spicy in an unobtrusive way.  


J tried the heirloom tomatoes with bufala bocconcini. She's tried a number of lovely salads in the past at 7 numbers, but this one was a little too simple for her tastes, she felt a little bit of balsamic would have worked wonders.


























One of the things J likes most about the pasta at 7 Numbers is that it always comes with a bit of veg and the kitchen tries different variations on tomato sauces depending on the season and the dish. This time J ordered the fusilli with red kale and ricotta salata. The pasta was superb, but the sauce was a shade less stellar than usual. 




Most visits to 7 numbers end with L grappling with the age old question, like Jacob wrestling the angel, meatballs or braciola? Recently the braciola has been winning out, L enjoying the sense of danger that comes with both the hot peppers & the hidden toothpicks that hold the whole thing together, but last Friday gluttony got the better of him & he went with the meatballs. If there is a finer, meatier, more succulent pair of balls anywhere in Toronto then L would dearly love to get his hands on them. 


Just a quick word about the food we did not order. Like the similarly themed, but vastly inferior Gio Rana's Really Really Big Nose you might want to think about ordering a side or two otherwise the meat can look a little lonely on the plate. Top of the pops is definitely the grilled oyster mushrooms with shaved romano cheese. Also we've worked our way through most of the deserts over the years & they're all marvelous, although I'd skip the coffee if I was you unless you want to sully an otherwise lovely meal with bitter disappointment.


check out their website

7 Numbers on Urbanspoon

canadian pie company

J has passed by the Canadian Pie Company on Queen East numerous times & this week she finally had a chance to pop in for lunch. J & L are a big fan of pies in general and in the winter will often pick up a Pusateri's beef pie (which they both highly recommend) for supper.




Canadian Pie Company has a wide selection of sweet and savoury pies for dine in and take out. J opted for the chicken pot pie dine-in option which comes with a little side salad dressed with balsamic and sun dried tomato. The dressing was lovely, but the salad was a bit small and limp. Fortunately, the pie was a much better turn out. It was filled with huge chunks of chicken, with a veggie here and there and a thick, creamy roux. But the star was the ribbons of crisp pastry. Pastry that has substance and doesn't nervously flake away at the sight of an impending fork. The only drawback was that the pastry at the bottom was a bit too moist, but since the makings of pies are a mystery to J, she wondered if it's even possible to avoid such a fate?




























Since it was one of the last hot days of the year, J opted for the house made lemonade with mint. Although it was well sweetened and refreshing, it was completely lacking in mint. The lone mint leaf floating amongst the ice cubes taunted J for foolishly spending $4


Conclusion: Certainly worth a pop by for a pie


Check out their Website

The Canadian Pie Company on Urbanspoon

tabülè

Every so often, J gets a inexplicable craving for mountains of thick garlicky hummus. This week she dined with a friend who also expressed a hankering for hummus. Jerusalem which is located in the north west end of the city is by far J's favourite place to sate said cravings, but since it's miles away she recommended Tabule.

J & L have visited Tabule a number of times together and have been suprised to find that quality of the food seemed to improve upon each visit.








































The hummus appetizer comes with pitas soft and thick. The serving is large enough for two, but most importantly for J, it's also large enough to serve as as a dipping sauce for two for the entrée.

























J and her friend both ordered the beef fillet kebabs which comes with rice and grilled veggies. First off the beef is ridiculously tender, flavourful and unlike most kebabs found in the city, doesn't have an ounce of fat or gristle. J wishes she knew the secret to their roasted veggies, there is definitely a hint of oregano, but the rest is a mystery. Also a mystery is the rice. J finds the rice in many middle eastern or greek restaurants is simply an afterthought. However, at Tabule, the rice is more than 
up to snuff with the rest. After much analysis and wild speculation, J's best guess is that the rice is infused with shallot and also appears to have tiny bits of pan fried noodles along for the ride.


Not pictured is their superb mint limeade that you can get with or without alcohol. It's tart and sweet and most importantly, they don't skimp on the mint.


Check out their website


Tabülè on Urbanspoon

nota bene

This past weekend, L surprised J with an incredible dinner at Note Bene. It was our second visit and we were just as impressed this time around. The first time we sat in the bar area, but last weekend we were in the art gallery style dining room and were seated next to our former mayor, Mel Lastman. Even though the tables are quite close together we were relieved to find old Mel was as quiet as a mouse, especially given the noise he makes on those insipid furniture commercials. However, on one of his frequent trips to the washroom he did almost put his hand in L's little dish of peppery olive oil.


J started with the crisp duck salad with the "sumac dusted-green papaya slaw and cashews". J is already a big fan of any asian style salad with mango or papaya so she was thrilled. She thought the flavour combinations and textures were superb. The duck was the best she'd had to date, a bit milder than what she has previously tried in asian restaurants. The slightly sour dressing, cilantro and chili combined with the sumac left her taste buds all a quiver.




































L ummed & ahhed for a while before finally taking the safe bet & plumping for the cavatelli pasta. Without wanting to sound hyperbolic it was perhaps the wisest decision made by anyone since man emerged from the primordial ooze & thought he would try rubbing two sticks together. So flavorful & intense was the truffle scented bolognese that after a lifetime of wondering, L thinks he finally understands what it must feel like to smoke crack while drowning in a vat of condensed mushroom soup. An added bonus was that this plate was so wonderful, that it has almost totally obliterated the memory of an unfortunate incident with a similar dish at One Of A Kind Pasta (just a few hundred yards down the road from Nota Bene, but a lifetime away...)  


 


J somehow managed to consume the entire 12oz grass-fed new york strip loin and the majority of the "pommes frites with pecorino". At first J thought it was an oversight that they didn't bring her a steak knife, however she quickly realized that the run of the mill knife was more than sufficient for this perfectly seared delight. Having been raised on suburban chain restaurants, J  usually prefers her steak over seasoned. However, in this case J felt the meat was so scrumptious that she applauded it's starring role with the supporting cast of sea salt, balsamic vinegar and was it oregano?rosemary or both? 





L went for the the sea scallops as he often does when he finds himself somewhere fancy, his pretzel logic being:


i) I'm not really all that crazy about scallops
ii) This is such a nice place I bet everything tastes good
iii) ergo I should order something I don't like(?)


After the truffleganza of the previous course, the shaved black truffles were a bit of disappointment here, contributing little taste-wise. Cauliflower puree was divine & the scallops themselves were enormously satisfying without actually being so gauche as to be delicious or anything, almost as if they felt it would be somehow beneath them to be tasty. L felt suitably supercilious as he masticated thoughtfully, enviously eyeing J's steak.

Freed from the shackles of having to share a desert L fulfilled the purpose for which he was put on earth & ordered the Nota Bene cheese board. The Gogonzola was just the right side of tear gas, punishingly strong but strangely invigorating. The Rochetta was a cheesy miracle, surprising & delighting with every bite. One week later L is still drifting off to sleep muttering under his breath "Pierre Robert, Pierre Robert, Pierre Robert" a cheese that belies description. So soft that it had shed its form of a solid & transmogrified into some sort of cheese plasma.  ......








































Still reeling from the vast quantities of red meat, J still managed to nibble on a bit of pistachio ice cream. Having consumed vast quantities of the stuff through her travels in Europe, she had much to compare it to. She has found that pistachio gelato falls into 3 categories:

1) The heavenly essence of nuttiness
2) Sickly sweet - too similar to toasted almonds (which J abhors)
3) Chemically artificial and not worth mention

Although obviously incredibly fresh and well made, nota bene's pistachio ice cream was a category 2. But any fans of sweet almond will surely rejoice in its glory.



Conclusion: Great looking restaurant with attentive service and stellar food. If you have a special occasion and can afford to go, it's well worth it.


Check out their website

Nota Bene on Urbanspoon

Monday, September 5, 2011

vesuvio ristorante


Brampton, land of contrasts! Before J moved to Toronto, she lived in the land of cheap real estate & Michael Cera. Although plenty of people will tell you there are no decent restaurants in Brampton, plenty of people will also tell you that aliens are already here among us, their real form that of 6 foot lizards & that they slake their thirst with the blood of blonde haired children. Our point being that J has always found Mt. Vesuvio’s to be reliably decent Italian 
J’s father never expresses any strong opinions on food, restaurants or family entertainment; in fact his strong opinions are restricted solely to waiting times to see the doctor & Van Morrison's jazzy direction on Moondance. However he recently shocked the whole family by requesting we visit Mt. Vesuvio’s in Brampton as part of his birthday celebrations
The décor is quite dated and the music isn’t very well thought out (endless Beatles cover versions) but J’s family is usually pleased with the specials and regular menu items on offer. Everyone but L liked their free appetizer of bruschetta. L enjoyed the free aspect, but found the rest of it too busy, not dissimilar to Jack Astors'. 





J ordered her old staple of manicotti filled with ricotta and spinach. She really enjoyed the sweet tomato sauce and creamy ricotta. But after having the fortune of spending the last few years tasting her way around Toronto, she found that her palette had moved beyond Mt. Vesuvio’s basic fare.




L found the menu resembled some sort of devilishly tricky thought experiment, wherein the author had been asked to list as many different dishes as possible without allowing any of them to sound in the least bit appetizing. As a last resort, L applied the blue cheese rule which states then when it doubt about what to order, just pick the first thing that involves blue cheese & luckily(?) for him, there was a gnochi in gorgonzola sauce. However any relationship the sauce had to gorgonzola was platonic at best, & the gnochi was such a travesty of stodginess that it was undeserving of its silent "g".













J’s father and brother both ordered the special of sea bass. Both seemed quite delighted with the results. Although J’s father felt one of the pieces was a little oily, but raved about the rest of the food on his plate.


J’s mom had the Veal tenderloin with a mushroom peppercorn sauce. She doesn’t get along with most technology so we didn’t stress her with the request of taking a photo. She really seemed to enjoy it, although it seemed a bit peppery for her British palette.
Desert options were very limited. J’s mom inhaled the white chocolate cream cake. J had the chocolate and raspberry tartufo which she thought tasted like standard supermarket ice cream and wasn’t up to snuff with the rest of the meal.
So is it worth the drive to Brampton? Christ no! But then to justify a drive to Brampton you may feel you would need the ambrosia of the gods themselves, or at least a Moxie's or something. Having said that if you do find yourself in Brampton, this is definitely one of the safer bets out there if you aren't unbearably precious.


check out their menu 


Vesuvio Ristorante on Urbanspoon

Saturday, September 3, 2011

wvrst


Tried Wvrst on King west for the first time, the latest attempt to reimagine hotdogs for Toronto's Hipsterati. It reminded J of a Bavarian beer hall that she went to in Munich, but with much more modern décor. We've heard it gets busy at night & crowds make us nervous, so we went mid afternoon when fellow sausage munchers were thin on the ground.






L had the turkey/chicken and J had the Italian sausage. Both were fresh and tasty. J really liked the bun, it didn't get remotely soggy and was reminiscent of a really nice pizza dough.



We shared a large order of the duck fat fries which were exemplary. The potatoes were fluffy and we weren't sure what to expect with the duck fat but it gave the fries a slight crisp and seemed to be less oily that than J's favourite fries at Big Smoke Burger.








































The large fries came with the option of 2 dipping sauces. There are a whole bunch to choose from (even more than Wvrst currently lists on their website) & after some painstaking deliberations, we finally opted for the mohito and the red pepper. Unfortunately, it was L`s turn to pay & when he went up to the front to place our order he panicked, perhaps intimidated by the piles of uncooked sausage on display, & ordered the mohito & the curry instead. J Loved the Mohito, it reminded her of a sauce she once had with tikka. The cool of the mint and lime without the heat. Curry was not a big hit with L, but then he finds dips as a whole unnecessarily opulent, if not downright bourgeois. 


It would be remiss of L not to mention the beer: As with the dips, and the sausages come to that, there was an almost crippling tyranny of choice, but he eventually went with the Hacker-Pschorr Dunkel Weisse, which was just as much fun to drink as it was to pronounce.


Next time, and mark our words dear friends, there will most certainly be a next time, J intends to upset the applecart & try one of the dips on the sausage itself since she's not a fan of mustard or ketchup. We think we'll also try other sausages. J had her eye on the lamb sausage with harissa and L may give the Venison a whirl.


check out the wvrst website


Wvrst on Urbanspoon