Sheryl Kirby

That Day

Torontonians are like hibernating groundhogs. All winter, we stay holed up in our burrows, occasionally sticking our noses out for a sniff. Then, on the first nice day, that one day where it’s possible to believe that yes, spring will indeed come, we emerge en masse to frolic.

Queen Street West was packed solid yesterday – like the business district at 5pm when the office workers emerge and flow to Union Station to get their trains back to the ‘burbs. We walked home from Queen and Bathurst, and on the sunny north side of the street, the sidewalk was at a crawl, so packed with people still bound by dirty snowbanks that passing the slowpokes was all but impossible.

Hipsters, dog walking, stroller pushing, cellphone talking, adult coffee-sippy-cup drinking, trendy rubber boots and cute scarf-wearing… they were all represented. The frantic energy of a glorious day and the sight of the sun was palpable. I almost expected everyone to stop, face south and throw open their coats to warm their bellies like meercats.

As we trekked through the puddles, the dry rotting snowbanks turning into piles of dirt and cigarette butts, it felt good to share the collective brain; to get out and soak up some sun after a long arduous winter, to celebrate “that day” with a promenade along the sidewalk.

Sunday Brunch – The Beaver

The Beaver
1192 Queen Street West
416-537-2768
Brunch for two with all taxes, tip and coffee and juice: $34

Beaver Loves You.

The sentiment may be genuine, pre-emptive or merely provocative; (“Dude, I love beaver too!!”) but there’s no denying that the note on the bill at this funky restaurant on the edge of Parkdale will put a smile on every face.

Known more for its clubby atmosphere of an evening (the owners are Toronto’s favourite party promoters, Lynn McNeil and Will Munro), Beaver serves up a pretty mean brunch, especially considering the limited kitchen behind the small bar.

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No Grain, No Pain

Everyday Grain-Free Gourmet: Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner
Jodi Bager and Jenny Lass
Whitecap, 2008

Imagine a world where bread hurts. I don’t mean getting whacked in the head with a baguette, but where eating bread or rice or a gooey cinnamon roll causes real illness and pain.

For people suffering from celiac disease, items made with not just gluten-heavy wheat, but all grains and carbohydrates, can be a ticket to the hospital.

Everyday Grain-Free Gourmet is the second recipe book in a series by Jodi Bager and Jenny Lass, and offers a cookbook alternative for people suffering not just from celiac disease, but a whole variety of digestive disorders such as colitis, irritable bowel syndrome, Crohn’s disease and more. This selection of recipes is based on the Specific Carbohydrate Diet (SCD), which was used in the early 20th century by people with celiac disease. It was replaced mid-century by a gluten-free diet, but many people suffering from digestive disorders found the gluten-free diet did not work especially well, and a return to the SCD was more effective on their symptoms. As both Bager and Lass suffer from digestive disorders, it’s safe to say that their combined experience lends them suitable expertise to create such a book.

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The Real Food Revival

Three years is such a short time in the grand scheme of things, but in the publishing world, it can be an eternity. Books come and books go, and a lot of great books don’t get the publicity they deserve. Which is likely why I was able to find Real Food Revival by Sherri Brooks Vinton and Ann Clark Espuelas at one of those deep-discount remaindered stores back before Christmas.

With a sub-title of “aisle by aisle, morsel by morsel”, Vinton’s search for real food in the supermarket aisles predates not just Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food, but also Marion Nestle’s What to Eat. Taking on everything from baked goods to bottled water, Vinton gives a common-sense approach to finding, and demanding real food.

Neither Vinton or Espuelas are experts; they don’t have the nutritional background of Nestle or the science background of Pollan, yet they do their research and present a well-documented case for each of their claims. This makes the book refreshingly free of jargon and chemistry, something that can make for a dry read at best in similar works, and can be downright off-putting in some cases.

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Sunday Sips – Hendrick’s Gin

Okay, that’s it, I’m done. I think we’ve all been more than patient with this weather thing, but really, enough is enough. I’m just not going to acknowledge it anymore. Instead, I’m just going to pretend that summer is here. I’m going to drag out the sunscreen and capri pants, and I’m going to pour myself a nice cold gin and tonic.

My choice of gin is an obscure one, with an unusual flavour profile. Made in the Scottish village of Girvan, Hendrick’s Gin is distilled in a restored 19th century still that processes the soft Scottish water and unique botanicals slowly to ensure full instillation of the flavours. Aside from the traditional juniper berries and citrus peel, the addition of both cucumber and rose petals to the distillation process creates a gin with a sweet floral undertone that blends well with a variety of fruit flavours. The dark, stout bottle alludes to an old tyme apothecary and the healing medicinals of the day.

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Where Curly Fries Come From

At first, I was sure I must be dreaming. Pretty ladies stepped out of nowhere to hand me free samples of cheesecake, gelato, or cashews. There was beer, wine, and grilled kangaroo. Everywhere I turned there were displays of gorgeously decorated cakes. Chefs stood over hotplates cooking up dishes of pasta or rosti potatoes, free for the taking. I couldn’t be sure, but there might have been angels singing. I never wanted to leave this blissful place.

Then the ethereal music came to a screeching halt as I came upon a display of salad dressings from a cigarette company. I shook myself out of my sugar-induced coma and noticed displays of chicken wings, available in bags of 500, or frozen burger patties, and all varieties of personal pizzas, sausages and nacho cheese mix.

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Ladies, Please

When we started TasteTO last year, I subscribed to a bunch of Canadian women’s magazines because I thought they might be useful references for stories. They haven’t been especially, as they’re not Toronto-specific enough, and they also run to seriously mainstream tastes and trends – generally enough that I find something about every issue that annoys and frustrates me.

The most recent issue of Canadian Living is billed on the cover as their “Go Green Issue” with a whole lot of lip-service paid to the recent trend of eco-activism without any real commitment required on the part of the reader/consumer *or* the magazine. There’s your typical spread of eco-friendly shopping bags, tips on eco-friendly laundering, and generally a whole lot of articles on how we can all be good little consumers yet still save the earth. (ie. Don’t stop buying *stuff* just buy environmentally-friendly stuff!) I saw no mention of important actions like hey – get out of your fucking car! Or – stop taking the annual family trip to Disneyworld! Just a lot of suggestions of how to renovate your house with beach stone tiles or stuff that *looks* like it’s from nature (ie, plastic photo frame that looks like logs).

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A Multicultural Feast at Senses

Senses
328 Wellington Street West
416-935-0400

I’ve gone on record as saying that I don’t like foie gras. That was before I had the foie gras as prepared by Chef Patrick Lin at Senses.

Working on the “try it ten times” theory as espoused by Vogue food writer Jeffrey Steingarten, I continue to try foods that I’ve had bad experiences with in the hope that I’ll eventually learn to at least like them, if not love them. After trying the duo of foie gras on Senses new menu, consider me a convert. Chef Lin’s technique of offering the tasty liver both pan-seared and poached in Peking duck consommé is a testament to both an exquisite ingredient and his skill and creativity behind the stove.

A renovation of the space now sees the comfortably modern lounge graced with generous sofas and a reworked restaurant with better flow and ambiance due to the removal of a couple of seats and the addition of the wine wall that breaks up the space without breaking up the light. With warm wood floors, and a palette of chocolate, cream and gold, the space is relaxed and welcoming.

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The Real Food Dilemma

I haven’t had time in the past week to talk about the Michael Pollan lecture. Mostly, I think, because it’s wasn’t actually that inspiring. It wasn’t bad, don’t get me wrong, he just didn’t say much of anything new. The brief hour started with Pollan reading an excerpt from In Defense of Food, then being interviewed by CBC’s Matt Galloway. His answers were informative, articulate and witty, but it felt very much as if he’d done it all a hundred times before. And of course, he had. Disappointingly, there was no audience Q&A, so anyone who had questions for the author had to stand in line for an autograph, and I’m told, was rushed through pretty quickly.

The following day, there was an interview with Pollan in the Toronto Star in which he pretty much skewered the vegetarian community based on his three vegetarian sisters who apparently eat a lot of mock meat. I’m torn on this point between being chagrined and flipping the bird in his general direction, and nodding in agreement. During my time as a vegetarian, and even today when cooking at home, I used a lot of soy-based products to recreate comfort food dishes like cabbage rolls and sheperd’s pie. I know how processed these products are, but I’m drawn into the trap of it being easier than coming up with a straight-up vegetarian dish, especially when trying to include protein. On the other hand, I really like my rule of no meat at home, because my job has me out a couple of times a week stuffing my face with everything from chicken wings to foie gras. I don’t need more meat in my diet, and relying on the protein in eggs and peanut butter gets tired really fast.

The desire to eat “real food” has left me with a bit of a conundrum.

The other issue with Pollan is this so-called manifesto. I hate lists of rules and regulations like this, because there’s always so many exceptions, and people either try to live by them devotedly and feel guilty (or make excuses) when they can’t; i.e. The Hundred Mile Diet. So while I agree that we should be paying more for better quality food, the rule about not eating alone is just asinine.

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Sunday Brunch – Mitzi’s Sister

Mitzi’s Sister
1554 Queen Street West
416-532-2570
Brunch for two with all taxes, tip, plus coffee and juice: $40

I have a love/hate relationship with the brunch at Mitzi’s Sister. I love the homey, laid back vibe, the friendly servers, the eclectic tunes, and the constantly changing garnishes on what is likely my favourite brunch menu in the city. If it weren’t for the hate bit, I’d be here every weekend. But the hate thing is something I can’t get over. It’s got nothing to do with the place itself, but everything to do with the clientele. Mitzi’s Sister seems to double as a daycare centre on weekend mornings, where local hipster parents come with their kids and pretty much set them free.

Now before I get piles of cranky comments, let me be clear. I don’t have a problem with well-behaved kids who can sit politely through a meal. I don’t have a problem with breastfeeding. And I understand that kids have short attention spans and lots of energy to burn. What I have a problem with is the Parkdale locals who let their kids literally run around the place, annoying other patrons and making life dangerous for themselves and the servers while the parents sit by oblivious, comparing tattoos and discussing their guitars. I watched a kid make it out the door and onto the street one day before his father clued in that he was gone and rushed frantically around the place looking for him. I witnessed a toddler wander into the kitchen, only to hear the crash of plates as the server avoided knocking her over. When I’m looking for a quiet breakfast that doesn’t include top-of-the-lungs screeching, I tend to end up somewhere else.

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