Banh-Mi Boys

My experience at Banh Mi Boys plays a bit like a Goldilocks story, so bear with me.

And hello again! I've missed you guys! I've missed using you all as a reason to eat amazing food, all the time. Or most of the time. At least once a week anyhow, but in this case, it was several times in one week and WOW am I still not tired of Banh-Mi.

My day sees me winding down with a walk from Richmond to Queen and Spadina to catch a streetcar to bring me home. I don't usually want to cook for myself at this time of night, especially since cooking for one is pretty boring (I will spoil my roommate with a dinner extravaganza as regularly as possible, but it is never enough). Yes, my nights tend to end in the horror of canned lentil soup. It's been on sale after all, and I'd rather pinch those pennies to splurge on a better meal at a nice restaurant...Banh Mi Boys is almost on the corner, at 392 Queen!

I will start with the bad news, which is that Banh Mi Boys is not that nice restaurant. While I know that they are first-time restaurateurs, that's no excuse for the divey feel of the place. It's painfully fluorescent and blue, the walls bare and painted a glaring and unfriendly white. The layout leaves a lot to be desired, the gauntlet between wall and prep counter squeezing any customer who wants to sit at the few cheap tables in the back. Because they've got some nice graphics, and the buzz has been good, I had expected something that felt less like a Chinatown dive. In that sense, Banh Mi Boys struck out.

We're not here for ambiance, though. We are here to eat.

Day one saw me trying the traditional banh mi sub. I really wanted the five spice pork, but it was sold out. My next choice was the regular pork, but I was told it wasn't the best cut. That is a kinda strange thing to tell a customer, I think, but I appreciated the tip. This one guy was there every day I went, and he was always the most energetic, helpful, and enthusiastic. I gather that it's a partnership, but I deeply suspect he's the motor of the boys. Pork was thus removed from my sub options for the night, and I went for the next thing, the Spicy Beef Banh Mi (5.95). My spice tolerance is above average, but not by so much. For a few minutes I felt like a hotshot as I asked for kimchi and hot sauce on the sandwich, and was given stares of appreciation and fear. Was I mad? Actually I found it very mild. If you like things spicy, ask for extra hot sauce, or jalapenos, they overstate the heat.

The bun is home made by the owner, who moonlights at his fathers bakery to make the perfect bread he pictured for Banh Mi Boys eponymous food, and it is airy as spun clouds with a light and crackling crust. Perfect, not too filling. It's long, so that airiness is an advantage, and it suits banh mi much better than a baguette. The pickled carrots are wobbly and tangy, sweet but natural. Though I don't think the beef was very spicy, it was tender, succulent and fall apart in texture like ragu. It was chopped up in a way that reminded me of a shawarma. After finishing I was surprised that something so visually large could feel so insubstantial after eating.

Day two brought me around again, with a considerable appetite. These steamed buns were a big draw for me, seeming like the most inventive and fun thing on the menu. I was excited to order them and got two, knowing they would be smaller. I am not that familiar with steamed buns, you may guess. They're heavy, doughy and fat to the point that very little can fit in them as far as toppings go. I had a Pork Belly and a Tofu Bao (3.49$ ea). The only way I knew that tofu could be had was because the family ordering ahead of me asked about it. For all appearances, the menu is totally carnivorous. Maybe they should stick to meat, given that the tofu had a very careless treatment. A brick of it was panko-crusted and fried. Panko will always taste good, so that was nice. But the soggy tofu hadn't had the love of a marinade, or any spice treatment. It was sadly bland. It may have been better if instead of one large piece, a few smaller pieces were fried and piled on the bao- more chance for flavor, and easier to handle. The salt in the fried crust was good, but there wasn't any action happening. It was the same vegetables, mild sauce (mayo and bbq), and the kimchi was salty but flavourless.
The pork bao was an improvement. The bbq sauce was tangy and sensitively applied. The meat was honest and robust. I just don't think I like the bao in the end, because their bland and doughy taste envelops any filling that's put inside, no matter how gleaming the flavor.
Whereas the banh mi had left me not feeling full enough, eating these left me feeling loaded and heavy.

Here is where my Goldilocks story comes into play. Day three. Previously the banh mi was too light, the bao too heavy, but these Tacos (3.99$) were totally amazing, and just the right weight. I hadn't known what to expect, but pictured a hard shell. The 'taco' is actually a roti of some kind. Light, buttery, elastic, flaky. They are steamed and then sink into little containers before being heaped with our now familiar vegetable trio of cucumber, cilantro and carrot. It gave me a kick that this Vietnamese inspired place is serving a Mexican named dish with an Indian style bread. Oh Toronto I love you so. I had a kalbi (Korean!) beef taco and though I'm no poultry lover, had the grilled chicken as well. The chicken had shawarma taste again (Vietnam meets Mexico meets India meets Turkey?), but with a potent dash of paprika. The cutlets were quite tangy with celery salt.

My absolute favourite thing was the kalbi taco, which was juicy and knockout flavourful. The meat was rife with onion and the taste of flat top grilling. The tacos are fun to eat, the taco/roti absorbent and malleable, perfect for sopping up juice or ferrying a load of veggies and beef to ones mouth. I had extra kimchi and sriracha on, and that makes these things.

The easy comparison to make here is to the Chinatown vietnamese subs found a five minute walk North on Spadina. They're different beasts, to be sure. Banh Mi Boys are dealing with a higher price point, because they clearly use fresher produce, bread, and higher quality meats.  Every sandwich is made to order. In Chinatown you can get a sub the same size for 2$, and that can be a big draw by itself. They are packaged and ready to go, the bread is not as fresh, and the meat is dubious (but delicious) cold cuts. It's good in a different way. So if you're thinking of arguing about the price difference, think about the difference between the 1.69$ hamburger at Burger King, and the 10$ plate you'll get at any decent pub first. Same deal. Banh Mi Boys is going to be a draw because of their fresh take on a beloved takout food, and I hope a few more weeks will give them time to make the location more welcoming, to kick up the flavour, and hopefully work on their vegetarian option.

Given the proximity to my work, I know I'll be eating more of those tacos.

Pizza E Pazzi

There are days and restaurants that remind me that one of the reasons I began working on Drawn and Devoured was to further my education about food, especially food in Toronto which is such a mishmash of international styles. Neapolitan pizza isn't new here, I guess, with staples like Pizzeria Libretto having been around ages (I'm excited for the one opening near my home on Danforth!). I've yet to make it over, and my university days were spent mostly with the garlic rich, E.V.O.O. drenched slices by Massimo's. They're NOT Neapolitan! I think they New York style, but comparing the two is apples to oranges. My closest run in with a Neapolitan style pizza was a pizza pocket from The 416 Snack Bar. I will tell you, it is NOTHING like what I experienced later!

Recently a little place opened up in Corso Italia -that other little Italy that feels less like a club district than College West- called Pizza e Pazzi (1182 St. Clair Ave W). It boasts a wood burning oven and a traditional recipe that only need four ingredients (not counting love). I have wondered just what could make one pizza so different from the next, and this is where I learned that a pizza doesn't need to be folded in half and dripping with cheese, but can be torn, shared, and appreciated as more of a craft bread.

Pizza e Pazzi is incredibly new and wet behind the ears. It has all the bright eyed eagerness of its freshness showing in the big flustered grins of the service, and the stern, concentrating frowns of the pizza makers. Everything is dark and gleaming, classy. The tables are small and intimate, and word of mouth has served this place well. Is it odd that I'm surprised by their lack of public twitter? There was a time when social media didn't factor into a restaurants launch! Yet the tables are packed, and even though my chronically half-hour-early self was there long before my friends to make a reservation, it was a 15 minute wait before we were seated. Make a reservation if you want dinner at a certain time. Walking into this place along is worth the wait, your mouth will start watering from the scent of floury dough and olive oil, the air redolent with basil. It smells amazing. It smells like dinner.

 We aren't seated long before we're offered beer, wine, and complimentary olives, mushroom tapenade and fresh red fife and pita. I'm surprised in the best way- so few places I've been to offer something for the table to snack on while orders are prepping and drinks are being poured, let alone something as delightful as this. The mushroom tapenade is marinaded and moist, not soggy. It's briny, it's juice doing well to moisten the spongy white bread and pita. The olives are firm, green, and drizzled with olive oil. I love the bread which is incredibly fresh, and polish off half the basket to myself, dipping the bread chunks  generously in olive oil.

Mains are ordered, as is a pizza to share. Despite my conviction that I would get a pizza to myself, the pasta selection is incredibly tantalizing, and all three of us opt for different kinds of semolina entrees.

To keep things simple in the anticipation of heavy mains, and out of consideration for the vegetarianism of one guest, the simplest pizza is ordered- a classic Margherita ($13). In the traditional style, this pizza is only tomato sauce and mozzarella. Such simplicity requires the very best ingredients, which are readily supplied. The pizza arrives steaming, blisters on the soft and dusty crust. It's great. My first Neapolitan pizza! The dough is really the most important thing here, I realize, cutting through it with a knife and a bit of difficulty. Incredibly naan-like in thickness and doughiness, I felt like this recipe could have been passed down from nonna to nonna for centuries (it probably has been). Sensitivity and though has gone into selecting the fixings of the pizza. The buffalo mozzarella is melted and sultry, just adding enough sharp kick to work with the pool of fresh tomato sauce held in the thick dike of crust. It doesn't taste like PIZZA SAUCE, just like gorgeous vine ripe tomatoes, fresh and pureed with nothing to complicate them.

In a move mimicking her hair style, Amanda ordered manicotti. I don't think it was a deliberate choice, but the two big round rolls did look a bit like the big curl on one side of her head. In retrospect, I can see how drawing dinner like this might make Pizza e Pazzi a little less appealing to future patrons...we found no hair in our food! Not even our own. So forgive my drawings, sometimes I forget that putting one and one together occasionally equals eww.
Understated and simple, the manicotti was pleasant and satisfying without doing anything unpredictable, or being bold enough to really shock the taste buds. Soft spinach and ricotta stuffed pasta was ladled with that same fresh, sunny tomato sauce. It tastes sweet since there isn't too much salt, and everything is brought together simply with little added frills. The thick pasta makes it a pleasantly heavy dish, and it's alright that there's no side of salad to go along with it. The fresh basil leaf added a nice kick, and there was a taste of mushroom throughout.

Let's swing over to another extreme- the amazing experience Laura ordered. If the manicotti was a bit plain, Pizza e Pazzi went out of their way to make this spaghetti alla puttenesca ($14) incredibly bold. They combined the saltiest, briniest ingredients- puckered black olives shrunken with ripeness, juice laden capers (I've never been a fan), and stringy bits of tuna and zippy anchovy. The tomato sauce was lumpy with fish, just like mariners take on a bolognaise. It was INCREDIBLY fishy! I wonder if they needed two kinds of fish? Everything was salty but the tomato sauce was still fresh, so in the end it wasn't an overpowering experience- just bold and flavourful. And huge! What a generous portion of spaghetti!

 I also ordered a pasta dish to myself, choosing the appealing sounding ear-shaped pasta, oreciette alle cime di rape ($14). When it arrived, I kept thinking of ninja turtles- it reminds me a lot of more of turtle shell than of ears! Dude. This was another dish with anchovy, a fish I'm happy to see get so much love on a menu (it's one of those oft-sustainable fishies). Like the manicotti before it, the orechiette may have suffered from a lack of boldness! It was buttery with olive oil, and bitter from the rapini, two flavours which did make for a fun back and forth over my palate. I wish there had been more to it than those crisp first notes. Even the spice from the anchovies and a few chili flakes left quickly. Perhaps it isn't bad to have a light and fresh pasta in the summer, but I should know that when I order pasta, I want something that leaves me feeling heavy. I enjoyed the smoky finish with my beer, and it was over all too quickly. Next time, I'll order something with cheese!

The Combine Eatery

Other than it's annual festival of food excess, restaurants on the Danforth don't get a lot of love. Even though I regularly bike between Broadview and Pape, when it comes to dinner I'm more likely to be found on the west end. It's such a shame, because there's much more than souvlaki and baklava along the Greektown strip. Most recently added to this street of good food is the not-quite-Mexican not-quite-American resto The Combine Eatery, which is about a month old now. I bet this is the only place in Toronto where you can get a meatloaf and tacos!

Biking past the brown paper pasted glass every day, I really developed a sense of anticipation for the grand opening of The Combine. I could never see what was happening behind those obfuscated windows, but everything I heard was tense with expectation. One day the paper was down and the door was open, and I knew my waiting was over!

I am not as interested in having a dining place look like a million bucks so long as it's comfortable and easy to navigate (and clean). I think The Combine is a little crowded (at the end of the night when leaving our table, I practically had to duck under to leave from the bench side). All of their benches are old church pews, which aren't easy to lounge in. The rest is lovely. There's a mix of 20's speakeasy style (oxblood coloured embossed tin wall, art-deco white lamps), as well as a reno'd barn-yard feel, a style I've noticed in a lot of new restaurants. It's decorated with old things, wood beams, made to look new again. There's a shelf with electric green bonsai- it's a combination of influences as varied as the food.

To start I jump on the lobster fritters (15.95) and it's no challenge to get my seafood-loving friends to split them with me. There's six to a plate, and they're a nice plump size. Basically the fritters are hush-puppies, carefully created deep fried dough balls. They're crisp all the way through, only a bit spongy at the middle and taste like corn and white wine. The lobster is not very strong, just adding a taste of fresh fish to the golden-fried, spiky dough. They came with a firm sour cream, and chipotle aioli, which tasted strongly of paprika. The smoke went well with the corn and hint of sweet pepper in the fritters.

One thing that will guarantee that the Combine has a successful career is the variety their menu boasts. Though getting known for succulent tacos, there are also burritos, mainstream entrees, not-dull salads, and burgers to choose from. With a small admonishment to himself for not being adventurous (to which we protested), Pietro gets a cheeseburger (15.95). American classic! While it might not seem like the boldest thing on the menu, a good burger is not something that happens by accident. We quickly learn that The Combine cherishes their meat. It's a delightful combination of sweet and succulent beef, rich with oils and clean flavours. It's a proud slab of ground meat on a flour-dusted ciabatta bun, and winds up with a nuanced flavour. The side of fries are thin and crispy, translucent from the fryer. They're very salty!

From the entrees, I eyeball a rather intimidating order of meatloaf. It's not something I was raised on, meatloaf doesn't occupy some warm and cuddly bunker of tradition in my heart. A big hunk of meat normally wouldn't catch my eye. When you take sweet juicy pork, mix is with bold rich beef, add the creamy texture of veal and wrap it in double smoked bacon, it's no longer just a hunk of meat. This was a masterpiece. It arrived capping a small heap of garlicky mashed potato, like a hat. Each meatloaf must be baked individually, it clearly hadn't come from a loaf pan. The gravy was mellow with a light bitterness from the scrapings, tied together with the salty richness of soy. The loaf itself was full, the texture fine and smooth, somewhere between ground beef and pate. I think that some bread crumb was used as a filler, but it tasted like fresh, rustic red fife. All those meats made a cacophony of flavors, along with gravy and a hint of onion. It must have been slow cooked for hours.

Someone HAD to order the tacos, which we saw passing by on long plates to other tables, their soft shells laden with fish or chicken or pork. Molly ordered the so-cal style grilled fish tacos (15.95). An order comes with three. the soft tacos have a skin made of corn flour, chewy and toothsome. The fish itself was piled in little lumps under diced tomato and macerated iceberg. The mayo also tasted of corn, and I thought there was a hint of coconut in it. Surprisingly tropical tasting tacos! The guacamole was sweet, but bold and firm as well, not nearly as garlicky as I've had elsewhere.

Dessert was debated for a while. We were all pretty satisfied from the food we'd had. It was the display of blueberry beignets (7.95) steadily marched to each other table at the end of their meals that convinced us to eat once more. A big disk of chewy fried dough sat on a throne of blueberries. The crown was a ball of soft vanilla ice cream rolled in crushed pecan. The beignet was very tough- it wasn't easy to split, and we didn't have any knives! Chewy as jerky, the flavour was wonderful, like a more confident doughnut with fresh berries, but it was a challenge to get through. The ice cream melted over the hot dough quickly, and the shallow square dish meant we had to abandon the creamy juice after the first couple bites. The mix of salty and sweet, chewy and soft made for a fun dessert, but maybe more of a challenge to eat than I would want to handle regularly.

By this time the cathedral-like proportions of the Combine had started to work against its patrons, and we could hardly hear one another across the crowded table. It's popularity is burgeoning! We quickly escaped the over-air conditioned hall for the warm night air, and a walk home that would help us digest all the loveliness we ate.

Dutch Dreams

 

It's summer! Look at that sun! Forget those thunderstorms (it's all in your head)!

I am very happy to shepherd in this season with a very indulgent ice cream feature. Yes, I know it's mid June and I'm a bit late to the party. By now ice cream is probably old news. We've moved on to the hiding in our apartments with the AC cranked on high while bemoaning the heat and haze part of summer, eh?

Never!

There is many an ice cream parlour to choose from in Toronto. Not only do we have our imports and chains, but there are fresh local brands to choose from who make delicious hand crafted ices, sorbets and gelato. With so much to choose from, how to narrow it down and pick only one for this feature? In the end my selection process was determined by a belated sense of patrimony. Well, I'm third generation and hardly in touch with my roots, but that touch is the Dutch touch, and it lead me to Dutch Dreams (78 Vaughan Rd, off of St. Clair), that kitsch, that shining beacon of tack. You haven't seen it? Look for the terrifying and saccharine clown figureheading the store, which is bedecked in all manner of mannequin, pennant, light, and of course, Netherlandish paraphernalia.

The other factor bringing me far from my comfort zone, other than the proximity of my friend Pietro's home, was the eternal lineup to get IN the parlour. Something good must be afoot, yes?

If only you could see my notes for this excursion. Never has my shorthand been so messy or staccato. Between balancing a dripping and weighty cone and the constant sensory overload, they're nigh illegible. Inside we crammed our not-sizable ass's into a little corner table. The walls are crammed with ornate frames and prints of the Dutch masters, the ceilings draped with colourful dolls. Delft, tiles, general Dutchery. I might have gotten overexcited. Was it the sugar, or was it the fact that so mush of this weird STUFF is familiar to me from my Oma's house? You'd be surprised, perhaps, by how correct the decorating was, right down to the clogs.

At Dutch Dreams the cones and cups start at 4$, and all of them are topped with whipped cream and fruit (strawberry, kiwiw and tinned pineapple). Harking back to what I said about my lack of attention and my crappy shorthand, the journalism behind this venture is distinctly lacking. I apologize for this shoddy accounting of prices, and lack of research in the sourcing of their ice cream! Where does it some from? I doubt it was home made. Dutch Dreams also offers sundaes, splits, shakes and familiar Dutch concessions, from stroopwaffles to rusks to instant indonesian spice packages (there is a history of colonialism there, let's not explore it). I buy some stroopwaffles, an favourite.

Molly starts us off with a single scoop cup of frozen yoghurt. At first this sounds like a dollop of healthy eating, but she DID get M&M's blended into it. The cup was on the house since their froyo machine wasn't performing to spec that night, and the end product didn't have the body one expects of frozen dessert. Machine's fail, and it was the right decision to give it on the house (there was also an offer of replacing it with something else). The flavour was very interesting. Yoghurt has a slight sour flavour that makes it taste fresh, but the sickly sweetness of candy made my taste buds flop around with entertainment. Served with a wedge of wafflecone.

 

Pietro needed to be persuaded to have ice cream. He wasn't quite in the mood...I must thank him for taking one for the blog. He ordered a single scoop banana ice cream on a plain cone. The cones are big, but not freshly rolled. This MIGHT be a good thing, given the crazy line up just to get in. They are made in-house, earlier in the day perhaps. The staff could barely keep their heads above water just scooping. It's very cramped inside, with no room to shuffle. The ice cream is predictable, and pleasant.

My adventurous self was seeking greater stimulation. Without the appetite for a sundae, I ordered a single scoop of mocha almond on a special cone. The plexi separating customer from cream hosts the banks of encrusted cones (the colourful varieties include 'karfunkle co', 'coconut macaroon', 'belgian chocolate truffle', and 'wowie brownie') with their labels. I asked for a 'Nuts about Chocolate' cone, but I guess the staff don't know their own cones by name, and after a look of confusion I pointed to the pecan-studded object of my desire. I did like the ice cream, it had a strong flavour of espresso and cocoa. Very sweet. The cone was thick and I broke pieces off  like small shovels to scoop ice cream onto. Tenacity was needed to keep things from falling apart in my lap.

 

 

Though we were all happy with our selections, I would not call Dutch Dreams the best ice cream parlour in Toronto (and I would know a thing as an ex-scooper, myself). That title probably falls on Gregs, who make their own, and make it very well. Dutch Dreams does not have the same intensity of flavour, or boldness in ingredient combination. Dutch Dreams has sugary ice cream with toppings and flare. It has kitsch, and let's never underestimate presence. Go here for the experience, their generosity, for the ridiculous cone choices, the sugar, the fun.

Hibiscus

Click for larger images!

Perhaps you've noticed that Drawn and Devoured tends to focus on very new restaurants. Well, I'm not a selfless creature. New things garner interest, tend to have fun twitter accounts, facebook, which is all good for me- the more people who find me and spread the word the better!

I think some amazing classics fall to the wayside due to my selection habits. Some restaurants, like Hibiscus, have been in Toronto much longer than I have (what is it, about six years now?). Though I've literally wanted to try Hibiscus for years, the stars and planets have never aligned just so to allow it. There was one time my friends and I were right at its door on Augusta Avenue, but a sad sign informed us that a family emergency would keep the vegan eatery closed for the day. Bummer! I hope everything on their end in that situation turned out for the best.

If you've been reading the blog for a while, you should remember Adelle, my favourite person to go explore the seedy underbelly of T.O.'s resto scene- and when I say seedy, I mean pumpkin, sunflower, sprouted and cracked. That's right, we're talking the HEALTHY stuff now! Adelle just came back from an adventure to Hawaii and Eugene (at a sustainability conference! Amazing!), so it was extra excellent to see her, catch up, and gush with all the projects we're both constantly wrapped up in.

You're reading this for the food, though, aren't you? Ok!

Hibiscus is, as I mentioned, a classic. It's been a long standing haunt for the healthy, vegetarian, and vegan. They are known for their buckwheat crepes and wholesome salads. We went on an ideal day as it was balmy and hot summer dress weather. The tables are polished, old wood, sun kissed. With all the natural wood details and age, the place feels homey. The large windows keep it bright and open. There's also a sunlit patio to sit at. So interred is Hibiscus in its digs that the planks under our feet waft wholesomeness, the smell of dry grains and earth. I like it, in my mind it is the ultimate 'health food store' smell- maybe not appealing to everyone, but it is to me.

There are fresh drinks to be had on this intense day. Not one for super sweet drinks and often disappointed with lemonade, I order theirs to see how it compares to others. 3$ buys a tall glassful, and to my pleasure the drink is tart, just mellowed out enough to keep me from sucking my cheeks in against the sourness.

Adelle orders iced Kombucha tea. I was worried I would only taste mushrooms and staleness. This kombucha is not comparable to others! It must be very fresh, and has a booziness to it. She explains to me that the tea is fermented at some point in its processing. Not unlike my lemonade it has a good tartness that helps deal with the heat- I wish I'd ordered it instead.

Even coming from a Dutch family where we would eat apple pannenkoek (like a crepe) regularly, I've never been a huge fan of stuffed crepes. I have a limit, yes I, to sweetness! These aren't your Queen West crepes, though; my understanding of buckwheat is that it's very grainy and robust, very unlike a white flour crepe. Then I read the description of a crepe with chutney, pecans, pears and spinach leaves (9$). I had also been recommended the crepes... I ordered it. The crepe was folded around one end, the other open to display a lovely fan of sliced and delicately cooked pears, layers of spinach and mock-chedar. I couldn't see the chutney until I cut in and forked a chunk. Then, lo, a bright orange splash of colour and flavour! What I tasted was a drizzle of honey over the still-crisp pear slices, and the thick diced mango chutney dashed with cinnamon, nutmeg, and other heady spices. To my surprise the mock cheese was pleasantly savoury, even stringy, though its texture gave it away otherwise. I had had my reservations. I do prefer the hearty buckwheat crepe with its crisp dry edges and extra chewy texture. To perfect the dish, the pecans gave a crunchy kick. No wonder Hibiscus is a classic.

For long before her vacation and explorations, Adelle had talked about the salads at Hibiscus, building them up with praise for their diversity. There's a rotating selection, changing with the chefs whims, favourites reoccurring regularly. I got a look at the big bowls on display. It's a lovely sight, beautiful crockery brimming with orange yam salad, maroon beans, punchy green broccoli heads. You can order an assorted salad bowl, which is exactly what she did. It comes in two sizes (6.70$ or 7.85$), but I think the small isn't enough for anyone with a real appetite. There was a dozen different salads and toppings as well, all served with a raw cracker stuck in the side. Raw crackers fascinate me. Created with a blend of grains and nut pulp (usually, but not always), they're dehydrated for hours until the texture becomes not crisp, but chewy and dry. This one is thin and delicate, its flavour of a mix of whole grains offset by what I thought was black strap molasses.

In the bowl were sweet potato cubes (solid, plain), cold quinoa (fluffy and light, slightly oiled with dried cranberries adding sweetness to offset the natural nuttiness, which was complemented by pine nuts), bean salad (a traditional vegetarian nom, this one made of black beans, chick peas, garbanzo, and flavoured with sweet onion and generous cumin, again that hint of molasses), finely cubed tofu (sweet with a non-smokey barbecue sauce, and lightly dressed), kimchi, and a couple steamed veggie dishes lightly seasoned with lemon: broccoli, green beans, grated carrot, slivered beets. Most perplexing was this dollop of white stuff on top, which we were guessing was mashed potato, but didn't QUITE taste like it. Finally we asked. It is some kind of super-protein mash made of soymilk paste and mushroom. It tasted a lot like ricotta, with a similar texture.

To indulge a shared tooth for well-crafted sweets, we debated over the many cookies and squares displayed along the back counter. I try not to be too pushy when sharing, but coconut does something orgasmic to me. We were both eyeing the selection of squares, and there was little debate over selecting a cashew coconut square (2.75$). Shockingly creamy thanks to the natural butteriness of cashew. It was also very chewy in a more pleasant way than stick-to-your-teeth toffee. Dried cranberries helped hold it together. I wish the coconut had been more pronounced, but this was still an immensely enjoyable treat. Just watch out, they melt in the heat!

Yes, I used the word nom. Is it in the dictionary yet? Quick, where's my Websters!

Fabarnak

What really disappointment me with Fabarnak was how badly I wanted to love it. The pitch was great. The design and branding is colourful and crisp, and the menu reads like something out of my warmest gourmand fantasies. The price was also shockingly low on things with quality, often local-organic-gluten-free ingredients! Most alluringly, their heart is so in the right place.

Fabarnak is located in the Church Street Community Centre, 519 Church Street. One of the reasons I wanted to go there was because I wanted to contribute some traffic, some awareness, especially since I suspect people would hesitate to go out of their way to dine in a community centre (though after going inside, this place is BEAUTIFUL! They nailed the interior decorating, so cute). The tips get donated to the centre, as do the profits. The staff are people who may otherwise have difficulty finding work (I thought the service was quite fine). It's a beautiful idea.

If only the chefs were as skilled as the menu writer, if only their cuisine reflected that vision!

As with any breakfast brunch thing, my friend Abe and I started with coffee. We were getting a pretty late start, our date happening at 2. What I hadn't realized until the day before was that Fabarnak has shorter hours on the weekend, and would be closing at 3. There was fewer pastries than I had hoped for, as I looked across the counter while waiting. photo's show that the cupcakes here could be delicious, but there was none to try. The coffee was bitter and not very strong. I think the espresso based drinks are better, made with illy.

I was very excited after my initial research of their online menu. Finally, after all the horror and the majesty I'd heard about grits, I could try them! It's another of those love-hate foods I've been hoping to try...the menu touts the dish as this glorious thing garnished with shrimp and sausage, eggs, greens, molasses and shaved toscana cheese.

So, naturally, it had run out.

Now, I will concede the point that we had arrived close to the finish here, and the dish was unashamedly the most interesting and therefore tempting thing on the menu. Alas, my disappointment didn't take me to the grave, there were consolation pancakes to eat.

The idea of yeast leavened pancakes was a draw. Would they be fluffier? Would they have a beerishness to them? Toss in some rosemary whipped cream, and I'm sold on what I was hoping would be a savoury-sweet stroke of genius. What arrived? Two soggy pancakes more akin to bread pudding in texture than the boastfully fluffy griddlecakes I love. Everything was pooled together in the middle of the plate, the whipped cream all over the (dull, grey) peameal bacon and cakes. I was giving this a lot of thought after the fact, and I think one of the biggest shortcomings of this adorable, underwhelming cafe is presentation. The people working the kitchen need to learn to plate. It's not unlike making beautiful hand-lettering. You have to give the letters room to breathe! Let things sit with space between then on the plate.

Dear chefs: go to the Art Gallery of Ontario. Looks at the abstract paintings. Now, plate something beautiful. 

The portion was reasonable, and I DO think the food was good for what we paid (under 15$ each after tip), but my expectations were so high. Their menu reads so well. The pear that came with my pancakes was nice, but I couldn't taste a lick of maple in the whole dish.

I'd like to say that Abe fared better. He certainly seemed satisfied! With big eyes and a big stomach, the full monty sounded like a meal and a half. Picture a triple decker, but instead of toast you have savoury french toast, and in the layers are smoked fontina and peameal bacon. The spread described as garnish for the sandwich made me think of it would totally unique: plum and beet jam with dijon! Though I didn't only try one bite, so this may be a fair assessment, I couldn't taste it. The bacon was not as plentiful on this sandwich as I personally would have hoped, and it really needed something tart or sweet to make it unique. I was underwhelmed, and again, everything had just been stacked in the middle of a giant, white, rectangular plate.

After all this, I want to come back. I want to go to Fabarnak for breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, and have them wow me. I still want this menu to taste as good as it sounds, to be more than just 'Okay'. I want to be able to say something great about a place that is trying to do something great.

Bunners Bakery

This wasn't my first encounter with the increasingly popular Dundas West bakery. Getting to Bunners, located at 3054 Dundas West, takes a little dedication, but fortunately there are a few places closer to the core that stock some of their delights (my first encounter was at my old workplace, Atelier cafe, who started stocking Bunners right before I got a new job!) including Te Aro in Leslieville and Crema in the Junction. I'm sure there'll be plenty more soon, as Bunners fever spreads- after all, it is Toronto's only exclusively gluten-free bakery. Did I forget to mention that? I know a lot of wheateaters will read that word and abandon ship, but please, I encourage you to read on. Gluten free baking has come a LONG way. Judge it by its taste, not its reputation! Which is the only thing anyone without an allergy/ethical food avoidance should judge their food by, anyhow.

It was hearing about their other offerings, including a rumored sandwich pocket that made me decide to hop on my bike and visit the mother ship.

I'd just like to quickly put into perspective my dedication to Drawn and Devoured. I live in Cabbagetown. On my way to Bunners I got lost, making for a nearly 20km ride. I'm still feeling sore!

This also means you can't judge me for eating every. Last. Dessert.

It was a fun ride, and the furthest northwest I've ventured yet. I didn't realize how neat the Junction is, with gorgeous salvage stores, and lots of vegetarian and organic option eateries with enticing menus. I spotted a couple places that just made my 'to blog about' list. Since the photo's on Bunners facebook don't show much of the interior of the store, I really wasn't sure that to expect, but I had thought there would be some table space. It's actually very tiny, and the only thing to sit on is a small platform at the front of the store. They sell brewed coffee, but it's not a place to stay and relax! They also didn't seem to have the savoury pocket I'd heard about, either.

In a rare turn for me, I had a lot of questions to ask the owners, and wound up talking to Ashley Wittig who was very patient with my impromptu interview. So much for my usual habit of making notes incognito and scurrying out to draw. When I entered and saw how small the place is, I wanted to ask about what plans she and co-owner Kevin MacAllister have for the bakery. Licensing means this location probably won't be getting any tables, but they are thinking of expanding. When and where? That's a story for another day. One of the questions we got the most at Atelier that I wanted to repeat was 'what sort of flour is in this?', so I decided to ask. To make things easy, here's a wiki-glossary of their most common ingredients:

Chick Pea Flour

Brown Rice Flour

Sorghum

Tapioca Flour

Arrowroot Starch

Potato Starch

Now, onto the fun stuff. Food!

One of my top favourite flavours is coconut. Fresh or dry, it's creamy and heady with natural flavour. I had really hoped that the coconut cake Bunners lists on its website would be available, and it was! Most of what I ordered I took home with me, but the cake I couldn't wait to get my hands on. Because Bunners doesn't have any tables, it was a bit hard to eat, especially since they don't have any cutlery either. Maybe some biodegradable forks would be a good thing to add? The cake is made with brown rice and chickpea flours, and both potato and arrowroot starch. It was so moist! From everything I tried I will tell you that Bunners is the right place for anyone who likes rich, moist cakes and desserts, but if you want something like a dry fluffy Italian cake, or even a from-the-box texture, you might find it too dense and moist. I love it, and I would almost say the cake here stops just barely shy of being as moist and rich as a bread pudding, while still pulling of 'fluffy'. What did disappoint me about the cake was the delicacy of the flavours. I don't need to be hit over the head with lemon and coconut, but I would like to taste them, and I barely could. Even though the slice was coated in coconut shavings, I had a hard time picking it up from the taste of what was essentially a very good vanilla cake. The lemon I couldn't taste at all.
You can but the cakes whole: 30$ for a 6" cake, 45$ for a 9" cake.

Following in the footsteps of the cupcake wave that hit Toronto in the last couple years, comes the whoopie pie- or creamie in Bunners vernacular. I tried these at my old workplace and HAVE to write about them. 4.35 isn't a bad price to pay for the big cookie sandwiches. A creamie is made from two spongy layers of cookie (either chocolate chip or DOUBLE chocolate) with a thick layer of icing inside. I'm really happy with the texture and taste of Bunners vegan icing, it tastes almost identical to dairy icing, but with the comfort of knowing it's all-natural too. The icing is less like butter cream icing, having stronger sugar and air. The cookies that keep it all together are great, with just a hint of that 'natural food store' flavour at the back of the palate. The flavour of the cookies themselves reminds me a lot of cookie dough, and taste sinfully good.

If you want to try and stay a little bit healthy, try the gypsy cookie! It's pretty much a 2$ power bar, loaded with gluten-free oats, sunflower and pumpkin seeds, dried cranberry and chocolate chips. I love the crunch. The layers of all those crisp and chewy ingredients make for a very satisfying snack, breaking up with all sorts of flavours in my mouth, from sour to sweet. It's small but surprisingly filling. It's the only item at Bunners I would describe as tasting like a health food, and it's still yummy.

For the guilty gluten-free sweets lover, there are choices! At long last, you can join everyone else in the debate over vanilla, or chocolate, or red velvet? Bunners has options (at 3.25$ each, I drew the wrong price above. Sorry!). I tried two cupcakes (made with chick pea flour, and both starches), the chocolate with vanilla icing, and the raspberry lemon. Having mini chocolate chips on the icing was an adorable touch, and again, the icing is great! Same kind as in the creamies. The cake texture is drier than the large cake, more airy. The cocoa has a mild dry flavour, with a noticeable kick of salt to boost the taste. Surprisingly rich (by the end of the day I had a toothache. Do not tell yourself these foods are 'healthy', it is a lie! A delicious lie). Again there was a hard to describe aftertaste, though not at all unpleasant.

Though it was fairly smooshed by the time I made my way to it in the afternoon, the lemon raspberry cupcake I was recommended to try was unfortunately as mild in flavour as the coconut cake. The body had a lightly ricey flavour, but did not taste like lemon unless I closed my eyes and really searched for the taste. The icing was a small improvement, flavourful but again without much kick of raspberry. The flavour was there at the back of the palate, and again I had to search for it.

For dessert (ha!) I got two donuts. Or doughnuts, if you want to gripe about the American spelling. They are small, compact little monsters of goodness. Baked, not fried, the exterior texture comes surprisingly close to what you would expect from any other doughnut. I tried one plain and one coconut (made with chickpea and tapioca flour, sorghum, and the coconut dyed with beet juice). These donuts are thick and sticky, without that crisp shell that deep-frying provides. The glaze has enough granulation left to leave the impression of a crust, and I think it's cleverly handled. Making a baked gluten-free doughnut must be HARD. I taste a little bit of lemon in the gummy dough. Again, the coconut was very light.

All in all, I really liked Bunners. I'm glad they're still experimenting and expanding their menu, and I'm sure they're going to come up with even greater desserts in the future. I hope they do eventually open more central locations with more savoury items (they DO sell bread loaves and muffins now, though!).

Lazy Sunday

Hello everyone! Hope you're all having as lazy and relaxing an Easter Sunday as I am. Sleeping in and having brunch is pretty much the best!

I have a couple things to announce.

First, I'd like to thank TasteTO for their recent write up on Drawn and Devoured...I think they describe the blog fabulously! It's nice to hear that people like my writing as much as my drawing, since it's not as much my specialty. You can read that HERE.

Also, I just launched a facebook fan page for Drawn and Devoured! You should follow over there as well, since I'll be mirroring the updates. I'm also curious to know just how many people are following D&D!

Check out the Drawn and Devoured Facebook

Last, I recently posted the process that goes into making an illustration for The One that Got Away over at my illustration blog. If you're curious about how I make my art, head over and check it out.

Drawn and Devoured Process

I'll see you all Tuesday for the next scrumptious update!

Universal Grill

On the corner of Dupont and Shaw is a little teal building that I've been eyeballing for months. It's just something about that shade of blue green that I can't pull my eyes away from. Or maybe it's that the menu has been taunting me from the window every since I glanced it over. Yes, Universal Grill had sunk its hook into me. Time for a review! By some stroke of fortune, my buddy JJ lives right around the corner. A few of us rolled over there Sunday morning to see what they had to offer.

Universal Grill attracts the expected crowd of baby brunchers, and it's not very large on the inside - about eight tables and the bar. We wound up waiting nearly 40 minutes, and for some unexplained reason people who arrived after us were seated first.

Inside, it's a colour-coded classic diner, with mica flecked counter tops in black and silver, and sea green tile to match the exterior. With a proliferation of plants and vintage decoration, it really is lovely to sit in, with a cozy mothers kitchen feel. If you crane your neck, you can see into the kitchen.

Since it was a lazy Sunday, we started with some drinks- a Ceasar for me, a mimosa for JJ, and coffee all 'round the table! The Ceasar was spicy, sweet and heavy on the Worcester. There was some very pretty cucumber and lemon wedge to garnish it up. My sister had ordered a cappuccino, and it was traditional with a single shot and a full head of foam- the flavour was too watery for my preference, and the espresso and milk weren't married to a good consistency. The drip was spot on, though.

11$ - 'Huevos' is Spanish for eggs, and these ranchers eggs are a fun blend of Mexican bean chili and tortilla, and gringo fries and fried egg, all served like a tostada in layers (requisite sour cream and guacamole on the side, thanks). I barely had a second to grab a forkful and jot down some notes before JJ wolfed everything down! Even without our grumbling stomachs it was mouth watering. I tasted a lot of paprika in the chili, which made it complement the greasy flat egg. Major hangover absorption qualities sensed here. Fries and tortilla added crunch and texture. 

12.50$ - One of the daily specials was this horrifying tall mound of peameal, challah and egg called the P.L.T. Oh, the name cannot do it justice. The dry and fluffy challah was cut into generous hunks like ham fists to hold together the stacks of tender bacon, the thick frittata of egg, layers of lettuce, wedges of tomato, and a dripping lava of cheddar. There was a completely unnecessary side of spuds, crispy polyhedra with dense butter laden hearts weighing down an already intimidating meal. Mary was in trouble, that was plain, so we all helped out by grabbing bites of her meal. It was a juicy and bold creation, not shy on the meat, with lots of natural salt. The home fries were lightly seasoned if at all, and were pleasant in their simplicity.

11$ - The omelette of the day was a classic concoction of creamy and rich goat cheese mixed into very generous, salty heaps of sharp spinach, and halved crimini mushrooms. The omelette was very big, not just for it's diameter but for the depth of its stuffing. It was a round hill of filling, oozing fresh spinach juice onto the plate, and glistening with butter. There were four slices of crunchy toast to pile the garden grown creation onto, and a return of those simple spuds. When I tried this, I could swear I tasted a hint of lemon curiously hidden in with all the other flavours, and with something as creamy and rich as a goat cheese omelette, it seemed like a natural and clever decision.

7$ + 3.5$ - By itself this oatmeal is very filling. The bowl seems neverending, just like in the Grimms story 'Sweet Porridge'. It's thick and glutinous, not too dry or wet. Maybe I should be referring to Goldilocks instead, since this is just right? Very much like my go-to breakfast at home, which is porridge and banana, I felt comforted to slowly dig to the bottom of the gooey grey grain. The difference here is that this is not instant, which is why the texture is so much more satisfying than my 1-minute meals. Also, this porridge comes with a thick and zesty homemade compote of raspberry, which cuts through the weight of the banana and porridge and adds an amazing interest that maple syrup couldn't hope to compete with. There were also orange slices and melon, to add to the cornucopia of colours. I'm a big lover of chorizo, so I ordered a sausage on the side as a complement to what I didn't realize would be an obscene amount of oatmeal. This chorizo was dry and had a very noticeable flavour of onion. It was mild for spice, with a crispy, chewy skin.

 

12$ - One of the least traditional items on the menu is this fritter of potato and onion, a potato pancake of great ambition in size. I think the Universal Grill has a good thing going for fulfilling appetites. Nobody left the restaurant hungry. We may have left much rounder, though. Using gravlax instead of smoked salmon seems like a natural progression for a breakfast item. Unlike smoked salmon, the cured salmon of the gravlax is more tender, easily sucked apart. I find smoked salmon is stringier. There was a very long list of ingredients for the curing process, but Jack Daniels struck me. Hair of the Dog in a most concealed form? The gravlax also wound up with a beautiful raspberry colour, and altogether the dish was visually appealing as well as flavourful. The latke was filled with onion, carrot julienne and potato, fried until the outside became delightfully crisp. with a heap of fresh and crunchy greens, cucumber, carrot, lemon and tomato topped salad, it was a refreshing breakfast on a big plate.

La Palette

As it was sitting at the top of my 'To Visit' list for some time, I decided it was finally the moment to visit La Palette. For ten years a Kensington Market staple (the owner was instrumental in the creation of Pedestrian Sundays), the much-loved French resto recently moved its menu over to 492 Queen St. West, where it has a new permanent home. I found the new digs very cozy, full of warm reds and creamy yellows. The tables are tiny, or maybe I should say intimate? Maybe moreso for dinner. Since we went for lunch there was a very friendly and open feel to the place. It will be wonderful in the summertime! I was going to describe the decoration and vibe as dressed down but stereotypical French, but my guest, Myra, has actually been to France and said it's nothing similar. Interesting how stereotype can differ from the real deal.

Though I've written the individual prices of items, Myra and I both opted for the 20$ prix fixe, which comes with two items. There's also a 25$ prix fixe for three items, but we weren't that hungry!

I know I've mentioned in the past that I'm chronically early. This actually provides a lovely opportunity to taste and savour pre-food coffee. At La Palette they have brewed coffee, but it's nothing to write home about. For two dollars your get a very petite mug. Maybe the refills are free, but I was happy with the smaller amount this time and didn't ask- normally I can go through gallons of java, even when it's not too remarkable. The presentation was adorable, with a little silver jug of cream, and a mason jar of brown sugar cubes.

If I were to pick one highlight of our visit (a feature I should start including regularly here at D&D!), this would be my choice. There is so much going right in this fromage fondant. A large wedge of creamy camembert was encrusted with a shell of bread crumbs. The thick crust protected the cheese from the heat of the frier, and needed to be cracked open with a fearless fork, after which the cheese would not stop gushing from the wound! How extraordinary and indulgent. The sides were maple-glazed pumpkin seeds and spiced cranberry compote, which could be nudged onto the crust as though onto a cracker. I was especially impressed with the pumpkin seeds, which were actually in a brittle. It was sweet and crunchy. This could have been dessert!

I went to La Palette knowing that there were two things that, no matter what, I would be trying. Escargots! For those not up on your French, and missing the hint in my little illustration, that's snails. I know I've had these before, but it was more than ten years ago at a Kingston restaurant famed for not doing anything wrong. I wanted to test them on an adult palate. My first surprise came in the presentation. Even though I read the description of the snails, I still expected them to arrive on a little round dish, each one nestled into its own buttery pot. Begone, stereotypes! I have a lot to learn about French cuisine. These were served blanketted with warm baby spinach leaves and succulent grilled chanterelle mushrooms. That was my second draw to this dish. The only other time I've had chanterelles I deeply suspect they were false chanterelles. This is supposed to be one of the worlds most delicious mushrooms, and I wanted to give it a second chance. The mushrooms were what I had hoped: citrusy and buttery. That's how they're supposed to be! The rest of the dish was also quite buttery and full of onions. Though I could taste the natural smoke and saltiness of the escargots when eaten by themselves, as soon as they were combined with anything else they were completely overwhelmed.

Our mains came with a selection of sides! We were each asked to choose two. Both of us chose the winter salad and the warm slaw, but somehow I wound up with fries instead of salad. This was the only slip-up in otherwise pleasant service. I didn't mention it because if the universe gives me fries, I will eat them. The winter salad was made up of cashews, rapini, red and golden beets, and brussel sprouts in a bit of olive oil. The warm slaw is something we eat in my family a lot: hot red cabbage with just a bit of butter, salt and vinegar. There was a nice surprise in this version since I swear I could taste anise, a recent flavour obsession I have! The french fries were not a let down, and I was glad I wound up with them. They had an earthy taste left from the intact peels, and with a hint of herbs I was left with a countryside impression.

Myra ordered the fish, which was fresh caught white fish (but what kind of white fish? I should have asked). It was a very small piece, so I would suggest ordering this if you aren't starving. The skin was crisped, and the belly was light and flaky. It had a delicate mildness of flavour, without any overpowering sauce or spice. Enjoyable, but not too memorable, sadly.

This was the other thing I HAD to try! Maybe some people will be scandalized by my willingness to sample horse. It's certainly been the source of some controversy for La Palette, whose front lawn has been the site of more than one protest. For me, it's just another meat, an interesting food that I haven't tried yet. In this case the extra drive to try horse came from its interesting presentation, as part of a benedict breakfast. The toasts were slender home made coins of bread with a hard, herbed crusted that let the milky yolks pool inside. I found that the yolk and hollondaise were too watery and cool, and would have liked the dish to be a bit hotter, less soggy. Still, for taste it was very unique, and I enjoyed myself. The horse steak was served in medium-rare strips underneath the poached egg. It's comparable to beef, but I found it to be a bit more sour tasting, and more crumbly in texture. It was succulent, cooked perfectly for my tastes. I also enjoyed the mayo served on the side, which had a great kick of horseradish to it.

Of the two of us, I think I'm a little bit more adventurous for food! But hey, I'll eat anything.