The Ace

 The moral of my experience at The Ace is probably: learn to make a damn reservation. It is this frequent oversight which has led me (and my unfortunate accomplices) to many a long wait. Though I showed up to the shiny new restaurant/diner at 231A Roncesvalles at 7:15pm, for an 8:00 get together, we didn't wind up with a table until close to 9pm. Oh boy. In the future, when visiting a such a new place I will be sure to call first. A lesson long overdue in being learned, which is not the fault of The Ace at all. These long waits simply offer a chance to wander an unfamiliar neighborhood and explore what fine bars abound, and to reconnect with dear friends who I don't see often enough.

The place itself is long, dark and narrow, like a corridor out of a Twin Peaks lodge, but without the unsettling metaphysical implications. The ceiling is black, the wallpaper old fashioned and intricate, faded. Candlelight almost exclusively serves as our lighting. Even with the kitchen cooking at full speed, there's something woodchippy and natural in the air. Compared to the outdoors on this cold night, The Ace is as cozy as blankets, its big and inviting window dripping with steam condensation.

Celery Root Soup ($4)-
A lightly creamy concoction simply from the luxuriant texture of the roots. this was delightfully fresh and comforting, a titch of cumin accenting the mellow celery root taste. The root is quite mellow compared to the stalk, and I think this is an idea soup to start a meal with.

Ontario Pork Chop w/ Russet Mash & Gravy ($21)-

Ryan has this, and the chop was big and juicy, the bone taking up a big chunk of the bulk. It had an appealing strip of fatty marbling and pips of herb. I didn't try this one, but from sight, the beans looked firm, the potatoes creamy. It disappeared with a speed that implies deliciousness!

Lake Erie Perch w/ Cauliflower Puree, Buttered Spinach & Roasted Red Pepper Compote ($22)-

Like the chop, the fillets of perch formed a little towed over their mash, a big red bullseye of pickled roast red pepper begging for a fork to land. The fish was evenly cooking, the skin indistinguishable from the body. Slightly smoky, very mild. The red pepper juice really permeated the flesh, oozing into each crevasse. Love the cauliflowed mash, almost as robust as a potato mash but with a much more playful taste, rooty and teasing.

Spaghetti w/ Smoked Trout, Spinach & Garlic Lemon Butter Sauce ($14)-

These round and robust noodles were soft, edging to overcooked (which I like but doesn't sit with many), and were evry plain. The garlic butter was a gentle touch, the lemon drizzle only perking it up a spot. The trout was very strong and good, mixing the smoke and water that makes me love this fish most. The spinach stood out more than the rest, making a coup on the spaghetti fortress. The trout and that mild garlic didn't know what hit them. If there was a hint of romano? It was trampled.

Zucchini Cake w/ Oatmeal Ice Cream ($6)-

The dinner portions are just right, leaving well enough room for a touch of dessert. There were some decadent and strange things chalked up on the board, like nutella stuffed pierogies, but a traditionalist mood had overtaken our table. Zucchini cake was ordered, arrived cool, moist, more like a true cake than any zucchini loaf I've taste before. Truly spongy. The squash was only a hint, as were the spices. The oatmeal ice cream was a show stopper, hints of a gummy oat texture that put cookie dough ice cream to shame, very clean and rich, hints of nutmeg, cinnamon,

Rosemary Belgian Chocolate Ice Cream ($4)-

My penchant for amusing combinations paid off in spades. What an excellent and uplifting mix. The flavour was like a trickle that swelled into a river, the rosemary smooth and hard to place even when expecting it, which then billowed and surged into a full mouth chocolate deluge, the ice cream fudge and mind blowing. bittersweet and constantly cut by the herb. What a combination!

The Lakeview Restaurant

I can't say that I'm a Lakeview virgin. The 24 hour long lit lights have called to me more than a few days and nights. The sign hanging outside the haunt at 1132 Dundas has always been a warming greeting. The handshake says, come in, I'm the Lakeview, I'm here for you. It's the handshake of a friend. I can't go in without a premature sense of nostalgia. I haven't been in Toronto long enough to feel nostalgia. I probably haven't been alive long enough to feel a sense of nostalgia. But I get this funny feeling at the Lakeview, like I know that in 20 years when I'm living in a fancy condo on Manhattan island, sipping a microfoam cocktail while my attractive manservant arranges my comic books via a complex system based on art style and era of prominence and my holographic cat purrs at my feet, I will think of the Lakeview with a sigh. Why? Why.

With neighbors like Porchetta, the Black Hoof, and with the entire gastronomical fulmination of the Ossington strip to the South, it does seem easily dwarfed, easily derided. My eating roots are very simple, and I have great appreciation for what the Lakeview is doing by tidying up the concept of the diner. I like their polished and affordable classics, and their pop culture hinted menu.

Personally, I always try to sit in 'the magical murder booth'.

Thus for review #50, a year after starting this blog, here's some new thoughts on an old favourite.

Even though the Lakeview is a diner, it's no greasy spoon. They've always had a lot of fun spins on healthy classics. Their eggs are great. Still, tonight leaned quickly towards the indulgent. I dreadfully declare that our appetizer of deep fried mac'n cheese balls (6.00) set the tone for the night. I don't really know what I was expecting from this! They were decent, they hit the grease/pasta craving bullseye. They struck left of the cheese spot, though. What cheese sauce was gluing this super soft mac together had been absorbed, its flavour reduced by an unholy heat. I made myself food like this in first year uni. Still, when eaten with hands, lumps torn off, crust crisp and oily, dunked in a bbq more spiced and less sweet than ketchup, I was pleased. They are exactly what you can expect (and the ketchupBBQcatsup is a winner).

I am a little ashamed to admit how much I ate. We ate? I guess! One other trait of the Lakeview which is probably not oft lauded due to few Toronto artists writing about food (that I know!), is that they have big tables and a turnaround that means you won't get scowled at for whipping your 11"x14" sketch pad out and bustin' out drawings for a couple lazy hours. Lindsay and I were doodling as we ate, and we took our sweet time. The meal stretched out over a few hours, and at some point during this span of time immemorial, entrees arrived, and they were lovely.

I had some serious skepticism about the fishwich (10.00) because it is a self described as 'crispy filet'. Filet of what? Upon asking I am told it is basa, which I like. Basa holds up nicely to the fryer, it's got body. Not the most flavourful fish, but still enjoyably. It's sizeable! Two fried sticks top one another between a bun which is distinctly not steamed (as advertised). The bun is extremely airy, with a light crust that is as thin as skin. I don't really like steamed bus, and this is fine with me. The tartar is a killer, and I'm in love with its heavy herb and lemon. Dill, I think. The batter is light, layered and very fresh, the beer surprisingly noticeable. With it came a side of salad, which was a bland mixture of greens, refreshingly sweet but nothing to go on about.

While I did not try this terrifying, appealing thing Lindsay ordered, I have to say it was a mountain. Le plateau burger (14.50 or 17.50 for a double) is a thing which incorporates havarti, fried egg, bacon and comes with a size of poutine. It heaps high. I love egg on a burger, but even more so if it's over easy and runs into everything, gooing up the mixture into some mess of glory. I did have some of that poutine. It was not hot enough, and the fries should have been crisper, even under the curds and gravy. The gravy has a hint of bisto to it, hovering a step away from being gelatinous, but full of flavour. The curds were perfect- ripe, firm, fresh, flavourful.

Close to 11pm, after our filling dinners had settled and made room for one more thing to choose from the packed Lakeview menu, we got a dessert. There are things in this world that sound too good because they ARE too good- like the chocolate caramel walnut cheesecake (5.50) which was too rich and too sweet and too weighty.Don't get me wrong, it was good. It was just predictably tooth-aching. The cake was peppered with flecks of vanilla, and the cheese was not too cheesy of cloying- just right. At some points it was just like eating a toffee, there was so much caramel. If only there had been a nudge of contrast! And that, I suppose, is why cheesecake is traditionally had with fruit.

Gentrification comes and goes, neighborhoods change. They ebb. Will Ossington stay this hot and wild? If so, for how long? I think the Lakeview will have a firm foothold in the food loving latenight crowd no matter what. There's ALWAYS the 4$ Ceasar!

Acadia

The restaurant Acadia (50 C Clinton St.) takes its name from the coastal region of North America, from the Canadian maritime down past Maine. Before we had these countries and all! The food of the region is traditional with French roots, and laden with seafood, corn, and flavour- that is about as much of a sub par history lesson as you'll get from me. 

Even though Acadia talks about doing southern inspired food, there's a feel of uncomplicated maritime fare on their menu, and a downplayed sense of spice (read: heat) in what we order. You won't find big meaty wedges of fried chicken, either- at least not on this weeks menu. Buttermilk, corn and sea creatures are what bring it home.

The space is modern and very minimal. Off white walls, soothing sea grey accents, and deep mood lighting save it from the hyper-modernism of the all white, an uncomfortable look I cannot enjoy. It's intimate here even with the wide open eating area, no dividers keeping tables secluded from one another. It's loud, almost entirely from conversation bouncing along the painted paneled walls, little coming from the open kitchen. The usual clatter and clank of utensils and grill don't reach us, and the spot Jason and I have by the door is surprisingly comfortable.

I have been fantasizing about this menu for a while. It changes regularly, with the seasons or the whim of the chef, but the menu I've been perusing the last couple days and preparing for sounds terribly enticing. Sometimes I'll come to a new place with a strong preconception of what I want, and what will be best- and I hope that my dinner guest will cater to my wants! By some stroke of serendipity all the same things struck us. I've never had grits, Jason suggested them. He wanted to try the chow chow and mirliton, I thought halibut cheeks sound amazing (I am all for a greater use of the under appreciated bits of a beast). Ordering was simple, our overattentive waiter often at our elbow to take orders for food or drink, and easily convincing us to start with some hot house cornbread.

While waiting for the mains, a pickled selection of vegetables was delivered to us to snack on, and whet appetites that were already roaring from waiting for our 9pm reservation. I've said in the past that a simple litmus test of the quality of a restaurant is if they provide complimentary bread as an amuse bouche. This is like that, but so much more inventive! I'm becoming very fond of pickles in forms sweet, sour or salty. This was a selection of crunchy vegetables brined in an acidic soup, with yellow carrot, okra, scapes, celery, fennel, green beans and I think sea asparagus. A wonderful bouquet of texture and taste! They all maintained a strong sense of the flavour of fresh veg, which was remarkable, while having been infused with a new tang.

Dreamy, the Acadia Cornbread (7$) arrived steamy and succulent to our table, shallow loaves incredibly moist and airy. Every table has their bread baked to order, and it still arrived quickly. Incredibly hot! My father used to make johnny cake from scratch that had this Aunt Jemima quality, but better. The texture was just like that, without the over sweetness of johnny cake, which to my palate was perfection. The whip-cream textured pumpkin butter it came with tasted more simple than was implied, the gourd far from overpowering. Jason suggested pumpkin is too often used as a gimmick (think Starbucks revolting pumpkin spice latte). I think that pumpkin should be celebrated for its uses outside of pie! However in this the butter was butter, but better. There were flakes of sea salt that added pops to the whole delicious platter.

Cheeks are round, or so I thought. Looking at a fish head in the market, I would have thought that they would be shallow dollars of feathery flesh, tender but firm altogether. The chunks were actually big! The Halibut Cheeks (12$) came with blue cornmeal crust, pickled prawn, sugarcane chow chow (I had to look this up, it's a relish from the maritimes with cabbage as a main ingredient), mirlitons and buttermilk. I thought the buttermilk sauce tasted lightly cheesy, and hardly noticed the chow chow. It hid under the mantle of the fish and pickled prawn, as a solid and not-saucy base. The fish meat itself was delightful, and I don't understand why cheeks aren't served more regularly. The cornmeal was very salty, maybe over salty. What really caught my attention was the pickled prawn, which was served like a cake of crustacean, pressed into a mold and cut into triangular shapes. It was spongy, light in flavor, a bit like a jelly. The mirlitons were like a sweeter radish, circular flakes.

It wasn't an express intention to choose a meal made mainly of appetizers, but seafood calls and can't be denied. Here arrived the Shrimp Grits (13$), an experimental dish for me. I have heard grits described as horrendous, and as salty oatmeal. I expected a texture of mushy polenta. Not so! The oatmeal association is probably the closest to it's mark. They are smooth, and like everything we've had, piping hot. There is so much texture here I could not have been prepared for. They are creamy and hearty and not at all gritty. Who named this dish? What a misleading nomenclature! These grits are flown in from the Carolinas, and are the best of the best. They are skulking under a thick and heady lagoon of ham hock consomme, and the flavor nearly floors me. We're agreed: these grits are a taste of heaven. Everyone should experience a beautiful flavour like this! A sweet corn taste teases the meaty shrimps from their hiding places in the grits. It all goes together well, the mushroom and cheese taking back seats to the bolder fleshy flavours.

For a hungry start we slow down quick. The dishes aren't large, but they aren't light- I am very impressed and happy with these apps. One last thing hearkens from the menu before we fold our napkins and call it a night, foregoing dessert: the Vidalia Onion Tart (16$). I am always happy to see the token vegetarian item on a menu attempting to do something new. I get so bored of seeing the snore inducing trinity of eggplant-zucchini-red pepper most menus supply. You wouldn't find that on an Acadian menu, anyhow. Instead, you can have this tart, the crust rolled thinner than any I've had in Toronto, floury and delicate as lattice. I'm amazed it holds the onion in. The onions are cooked to a noodly consistency, mild, pungent, moist. One of the appeals that had us order the tart are the caramelized hops and julienne green apple. While the apply mixes in with the greens and Gruyere to top the tart, adding a needed awakening between mouthfuls, the hops are hard to notice. It's a nice little tart, but between light crust, soft onion, and feathery greens, is not very substantial. My one wish is that it had something to weigh it down and suggest more body. Please understand: this criticism is no more than me picking nits, and this meal was wholly divine.

The One That Got Away

Nestled at the foot of Palmerston at King is the sexily vinyled fish and chips place, The One that Got Away. You'll recognize it from the busty mermaid silhouette on the glass. Unlike a lot of cool King West joints, TOTGA keeps it casual with an exposed brick and wood interior, a few vintage nick knacks and counter service. It's good for a pop in, but seating is extremely limited, so maybe pass it by for long lingering dates. 

I've been hearing around that this place only serves sustainable seafood, though I somehow didn't see the note that is apparently on the blackboard (slightly exhausted and silly that night, there was a lot I didn't notice which I should have!). Because I'm a bit of a geek for environmentalism and sustainability, I double checked their menu against Greenpeace's Red List, and through Seachoice. It's A-OK! This alone is enough to keep me coming back, it's so encouraging to see a local business put in a commitment to sustainability.

BUT you guys aren't hear to read about my ideals! Let's get to some food.

To start off, my friend Heather and I got the fish basket to split. It's a medley of deep-fried treats, with chips, scallops, shrimp, calamari and a wedge of haddock. It was a good size, the bulk made up of buttery french fries (whoops! There goes my British..) and calamari. I was sort of disappointed that there were only two shrimps and two small scallops, but I understand that those are the more expensive items. I do love a big fat scallop, though. I feel like the larger ones have a sweeter and more noticeable taste. Everything was beautifully crisp, and had a lighter touch to it. I think TOTGA had a batter that's very light compared to other Toronto fish and chips stalwarts like Chippy's. It's easier to taste the fish through it, which was fresh and light, and doesn't sit so heavily down in the gut. For the most part this was good but not a huge stand out, with everything being played safe and satisfying. The calamari was more daringly prepared, its crust peppered with flakes of herbs. With this all came a side of tartar sauce that was fantastically full of dill, and a little dish of coleslaw. The slaw wasn't the best, too much oil and not enough vinegar. On the bright side, condiments abound, and it was no hassle to add some white vinegar, salt and pepper (though one shouldn't have to). Bonus points for having readily available sriracha!

The next best thing about TOTGA after it's sustainable focus are the options it lets the customer explore with it's selection of fish (haddock, arctic char, barramundi, halibut and pickerel), which can be had fried OR grilled, and can be served in the classic manner, or as a wrap, a sandwich, or even as a salad (the last is also possible with the fried fish cakes, calamari, shrimps and scallops). We opted for a salad to pretend we were eating healthy after that massive platter of fried food we started with, and got the barramundi. I'm familiar with this white and fatty medium bodied fish from having lived in Australia where it's a staple, and where its name comes from. I also think living in that country gave me pretty high standards for fish and chips, since everything is ever so fresh. There was a while when I absolutely wouldn't eat Canadian inland fish and chips, since it couldn't compare. This barramundi probably comes from US farms, though. It did have a distinct fishy taste, unlike the light butteriness I had hoped for. The flavour was still enjoyable, and the skin was salty and oily in a way that worked with the citrus in the salad. the romaine and greens came with diced mango salsa, cucumber and grated carrot, and all that sweetness was a good match to the fish.

It isn't actually served in a treasure chest by the way, as awesome and corny as that would be.

 

For dessert, I tried out an old fashioned soda. I think I'm a convert! Bye-bye Coke! Hellooooo black cherry soda. You can find these in specialty shops and at various little places around Toronto, but it was a pleasant first sampling for me.

Special thanks today goes to my friend Heather who let me draw her in a shell bra and with fins!