Super Classy

Intermittently I've been hosting a bunch of draw nights with a motley crew of friends, friends of friends and acquaintances. It has been a LOT of fun, and I've been enjoying the comic/illustration/animation conversations, the inside scoop on what nerdy shows are happening, and the odd tip for anthology calls for entry. All good things!

The downside is that the location has been a late night cafe with a less that delicious menu, and no booze. It's central, spacious, convenient! Just lacking a few elements. In an attempt to mix up my approach to Drawn and Devoured, I hosted a draw night dinner party last Friday, and it was a blast! I love cooking for a crowd, even if my cooking is fairly humble.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is what I cook.

 

Trying to copy the look of the amazing devilled eggs I had at Origin. Those used a bacon spear, which is really not easy to replicate with a cucumber strip. I also bought the wrong sriracha. I never knew cock sauce was so distinct in itself! Duly noted. Now I gotta eat all this off brand spiciness... (turns out it's good in soup).

This is a recipe I stole from Cafe Colette! I have been dreaming of it since leaving New York. I was expecting a couple vegan guests, so I tried to provide a few not-super-standard dishes they might like (although there WAS the token veggie platter, testament to my occasional lack of imagination). It was a really surprising hit! I never expect 'health food' to go over well, but it was ett up heartily. Bread from my local bakery, Absolute Bakery.

Tabitha, who runs the most excellent blog Tabitha Draws came by and hung out for snacks and a few rounds of drawing! You can see some of here sketches from the night here (my ego is happy to see me in one! But I think she drew my friend Erin better than anyone ever).

http://tabithadraws.blogspot.ca/2012/03/omg-its-sunny-outside.html

One of the things I tried my hand at for the first time was pakora. I don't have a deep fryer and tried to make them in a skillet. Not as crisp as I would like, but still good and oniony. I would love to know a way to make these that's just as tasty but not so oily!

Can you believe the store was out of tamarind sauce? Sheesh.

Herbed popcorn has been a staple in my house ever since I worked for The Drake a couple years ago. They hosted a series of movie nights and always provided sloppy joes and thyme-butter infused popcorn. Thyme and rosemary are the best herbs for this. While I like my popcorn buttery, you can steep the herbs in olive oils for a few days and use that, making uniquely flavoured, scrumptious vegan popcorn easily. Gillian really liked this!

Could only have been better if I had some fancy cracked salt! Maybe I'll pick up some black rock salt...

And there were some things I cheated on, and just plated. Fake it 'til you make it! That's how a real hostess does it, baby.

Porchetta & Co

Since Porchetta & Co offers one perfect main dish, I'm serving up a different twist on my usual illustration approach. Everything that goes into preparing the meat for a porchetta sandwich is broken down into a few simple steps, which I'll draw up for you. It's care and an ideal method that have made this little hole in the wall at 825 Dundas West a destination for food lovers, earning Porchetta & Co a spot on the Globe and Mail top 10 restaurants of 2011 (even though it only has four stools and a skinny bar to eat at!).

The sandwich runs a fair $6.45, with plenty of side options. Gillian and I get variations, both steering clear of the overwhelming porchetta plate option (way too much food!). She gets her sandwich with fried mushrooms (+0.75), and I get mine with truffle sauce (+0.75). We both dive for Kozlik's mustard. I have so many jars in my fridge! I love this stuff. Gillian and I share a few sides; rapinis ($3.95), roast fingerling potatoes ($2.95) and a small soup which is still big enough ($4.95). Soup du jour is cream of mushroom & truffle.

The sandwiches come on big, fluffy sourdough buns from the the Caldense bakery across the street. The sandwich can only be described as luxurious pig fat madness. It is hewn off the communal porchetta roast in thick slabs, cooked pork belly clinging to the outside, with the middle layer of prosciutto creating a crisp and fatty rind full of flavor. It is terrifically abundant. I'm glad for the size of the bun whose chewy, floury walls are working hard to keep everything contained. These aren't skimpy portions, and the meat is firm and filling. The truffle sauce has a hard time competing with such prominent meat flavours, which are working in great harmony and don't need any help

The crust formed by the first heat of cooking the porchetta roast is amazing, and my favourite part of this sandwich. It becomes a hard layer of cracklins. They're such a texture shift from the soft bun and the firm but tender meat!

It's the same truffle sauce, an extra creamy mayo infused with the prized fungus, which is drizzled over the hearty mushroom soup as it's only source of truffle. The soup was blended into a heavy coagulation of peppery and earthy flavours, dominated by soy, and a browning like gravy.

Our sides were simple and unassuming. The roast fingerling potatoes were golden through and through, the skin tended and fine. A light coat of oil with just enough salt made them go down smoothly, very like a coating of butter. They're moist and fluffy, not floury.

The rapini are also very simple, served roasted (I think) with a light toss of butter and chilis. The chilis get pretty hot after a few mouthfuls. I always enjoy rapini as a side to pork dishes, the bitter kick of these broco-relatives makes a good balance for the naturally sweet brawn of the pig. 

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!

Enoteca Sociale

For a long time I've been trying to get together with my sister, and our friends Emily and Rebecca, who are also sisters. Sister double date! The potential best! And the venue has always been discussed as Enoteca Sociale (1288 Dundas West). That way, the two Italian sisters can tell the two Dutch sisters whether the food is awesome, or not (hint: it was). Things did not turn out as planned, and it was just Emily and I, a duo of little sisters, who went to Enoteca Sociale. Nearing its two year birthday, the crowd that buzzes inside is full, as are the reservations. Room at the bar is available after an hour, and I don't mind whetting my appetite with a beer down the street while waiting, knowing that the wait is indicative of a restaurant which consistently delivers quality and flavour.

The menu is bursting with intriguing combinations of taste and texture. A lover of dark leafy greens, I'm drawn to a salad of baked kale, persimmon, king mushroom, farro & pine nuts  ($13). We're of the same mind and Emily quickly get in cahoots to share everything ordered between us. I will always gladly suffer through the natural bitterness of kale to savour the richness and tang it has. But...what is this? Somehow between blanching and baking, under the buttery olive oil and surprisingly sweet fresh lemon juice, this kale is not bitter at all. I did not think that was possible, especially given that the dish is savoury. This is me, impressed. The persimmons are slice into thin sweet wafers, adding just a pique of contrast to hints of char in a dish which holds its own. Mellow pine nuts are a nice touch, but I could do without the farro, which is strangely tasteless and mushy. I haven't experience farro before mind you, so my tastes may just need maturing.

I'll warn you, our appetites were small that night, and slowed with conversation about the complexities of loving food. We nibbled, and enjoyed ourselves, but did not eat much. I think it warrants a second visit! Emboldened by the bravery of our own company, the next thing we tried was smoked sweetbreads with escarole and romano beans ($17). Sweetbreads are offal, to put it indelicately- the organs most home cooks would never consider trying to turn into something delightful. Unpleasant experiences with kidneys and liver made the choice all the more appealing and trepidating. What to expect? Comfort was lent to the dish by the inclusion of a rich and comforting bed of smooth Romano beans, rehydrated and both firm and creamy. The texture was perfect, piqued with hints of escarole which had melted into the casserole. It added a bit of herb. The sweetbreads themselves were nothing I could have predicted, and were entirely enjoyable. The texture is somewhere between rye bread and liver pate, and the flavor is comparable to chicken, with a brine like flavour underneath a natural fat. Smoking added flavor, but the final treatment was the fryer, and the skins on these nuggets had crackled and bubbled with the flavors of a cracklin skin. Though there is some of that intestinal taste, I couldn't have been more happy with this comforting winter dish meant to warm one coming in from the cold.

Though the portions are modest, their size completely in line with the mastery of their handling, Emily and I only visited ourselves upon one more dish, the house made ravioli, black truffle, ricotta,  apple, chestnut ($22). As a pasta, I expected it would be just the right thing to do me in with heaviness. The ravioli were large and flat, with the most delightfully described 'pimple of flavor' that held chestnut and apple puree, and ricotta. You can thank Emily for that wonderful mental picture (you're welcome). there is not a ton of body to these, though they spread out beautifully on a plate. Black truffle makes enticing curlicues, crimped all over the glistening pasta. It's generous, and I can taste the distinct flavor so clearly. At first I didn't realize that the oaky blue cheese taste was from the truffle. It's woody but layered and nuanced. I'm impressed by how all the elements work together. In the bursting bubbles at the heart of the ravioli is a sweet and relaxing taste, the ricotta just nudging the chestnut into a more prominent place. A dash of tiny granny smith cubes are like timpani, banging out with a more aggressive personality than the other components, and refreshing the taste buds to receive another mouthful.

Why am I at home right now when I could behaving dinner, at Enoteca Sociale?

The Gabardine

Service announcement: I'm going to be visiting family for the next week, and wont be able to paint! Drawn and Devoured will return in the new year..to celebrate its first anniversary! Yay! Happy New Year everyone!

I like that I work downtown now. Everything is so much closer when you're right on the subway and tram lines. Just walking anywhere is so easy. Compared to my commute of a month ago, walking anywhere is FAST, too! In a way I feel like I've rejoined civilization, with all the luxuries that that entails- like having a restaurant as lovely as The Gabardine (372 Bay St) in spitting distance. I could go there for every lunch if only I wasn't the kind of workaholic who doesn't break for lunch! Over their polished glass window is a glowing emblem of a pigeon who has stared at me with a playful mockery for the last few weeks, as I've adjusted to the new pace of this new life, knowing that a good dinner must be right around the corner.

Could I get used to the Bay Street life of cocktails at 5, after a hard days work? Could I become used to pickles and devilled eggs and hot olives as a matter of course? Dangerously, yes. My friends, a new chapter may be starting here.

But I digress.

On a  Friday a reservation is a must- while I know that, I usually neglect to take care of the basic practice. So we sat at the bar, which is deep and white and marble. Raw tungsten zigzags under odd shapes bulbs illuminated the white walled room dimly. I thought maybe I would run into Nucky Thompson or one of his cronies. Was it the wide bar or the beach white that made me feel like a sneak on a 20's set? I like it here. They have good cocktails (though I opted for beer), and the servers are friendly, jovial. I don't know if the dress code is plaid, but all but two of the staff wore it. Molly, Pietro (also wearing plaid) and I shared the bar with a few ladies who were clearly friends of staff, ladies who were slyly served dishes not offered on the menu. I would have ordered a tamale if it had been an option! The menu items we are given to choose from are super enticing, fortunately.

I twisted Molly's arm into sharing some devilled eggs with me, and she twisted back so that we also got warm olives (you can imagine just how hard we had to wring, ie: not at all). I love bar snacks. They're the perfect size, and excellent for sharing. Devilled eggs are by far turning into a small obsession, a late-night craving which is now easily met at a couple places in Toronto. These devilled eggs ($4) are briny soft, very creamy without tasting heavily of mayo, a touch of dry mustard, four halves to a serving. They're classic, nothing ventured, and they please even if they don't astound. The warm olives ($5) are in the same boat. Warm, succulent, perfectly salted. No fancy tricks, just enjoyable fruit...for the most part. There were two stand out olives in the bowl of assorted sizes and colours. Two green buttons stuffed with lemon rind. An amazing kick in the teeth! It's so good it makes me wish I had a martini in my hand, even now.

In tandem with beginning a new job, with the upcoming new year, I am attempting to turn over some sort of new leaf. It's tough when you love food like I do, but I'm trying to be...well...healthier. Knowing that I would have a salad as an entree, I revisited my cruel arm-twisting-technique I connived to share some rabbit rillettes ($9) with M&P. I'm not sure which blogger I'm reading who keeps raving about rillettes, but someone is out there tainting my mind with desires. These were a first for me, so for those of you for whom it will also be a first, let me explain: rillette is a pate made without liver, to put it crudely. It's a fat-cooked tenderized meat paste, and it is delicious. The rabbit keeps a bit of game to it, but is mostly tamed by smooth fat. The paste is served with fresh, flaky crostini, which are salted with clear and sharp flakes of sea salt, or rock salt. There is something noticeably potent about the salting in all the dishes. It isn't heavy, I mean - it's just that the salt has a palpably high quality. The crostini are airy, and the rabbit rillette happily stuffs the pockets of air. Add puckering sweet-sour cherry preserve, and we have a winning dish.

So, a salad. The Gabardine has a pleasingly imaginative approach to their herbivorous selections, which is great to see. Garden, Greek and Ceasar salads just don't turn me on. I love sweet peas like a kid loves cake, so I let out an internal cheer for the salad of crushed sweet peas on bread with bufala mozzarella ($12), which combines some of my favourite things- bufala mozzarella is a big love of mine. They're all different though, aren't they? This mozzarella had a way stronger personality than what I'm used to. Even with a strong minty lemon garnish, with fresh baby pea shoots, this mozzarella was running wild. I think it mated with a blue cheese somewhere down the line. Oh, on the outside it looked like a cloud of sweetness, like a proper mozzarella, but that FLAVOUR! Yes, a little musky. A little unexpected. The rest of the salad was also surprising. The bread was not very big, and I think this should be moved into the appetizer section of the menu. The crushed peas were piled high, and were freshly cooked, not from can, freezer or dehydrator. Delicious- but light. Lightly oiled, sparked with the same perfect salt. There was not much greens under the bread display, so it was less of a salad than an open face sandwich on a baguette spear, which itself was artfully charred, char which penetrated each mouthful.

I did not try the club house sandwich ($12) which Molly had, but it looked inviting. Two slabs of pancake-fluffy Texas toasts were lightly golden, kissed by a frying pan, holding everything together. The chicken was generous, the bacon visible in fine strips. I'm told it was rather lemony. With fingerling potatoes and a heap of juicy greens, it made a lovely sight, and all was eaten but the crusts.

Pietro was also going to have the club, but these two are wonderful and obliging friends who have come on enough blog dates to know I thrive on variety. He opted instead for a big ol' skirt steak ($23), grilled medium. There's a twist on this steak which is something I appreciate seeing, especially since I spent a good deal of time at backyard barbecue's eating grilled peppers with chimichurri sauce this past summer. A chimichurri thick as chutney was lumpen atop the fat and proud steak. It was grainy and grassy, full of herbs. I love chimichurri and think it goes great with fresh red meat. The steak was robust, with loose marbling. I don't know if it was parsley of cilantro in this home variation of chimichurri, but Pietro doesn't like cilantro (one of those soap tasters) and pushed the sauce aside. A tragic waste! I like the zing and lime of it seeping into the meat. Their fries are good, too! Shoestring with the skin on (need I again mention that yummy salt? Well, once more won't hurt).

We'll see if the Gabardine keeps me coming back for dinner or lunch. I think they're likely catch me for breakfast (seriously they open at 8am, right before I start!) and after work drinks. The area holds many unexplored gems, and city, I'm ready.

Pizzeria Libretto

It maybe a surprise, but I've never been to Pizzeria Libretto. It may yet be one of my sweet city's most lauded hot spots, standing the test of time. I should add that last tentatively, since they've been open just a short 2 years now? And the throng stays strong! In fact, the popularity of the contemporary neapolitan pizza place is such that they recently opened a second location at 550 Danforth Avenue...just a hop, skip and a jump away from me, wouldn't you know! The two menu's have different items available, so what you're used to eating at Ossington may not be what you get at Danforth! I would really like to try the rapini pie in the future, but I think Danforth might have the sexier dessert menu (we were too full to try).

To taste the Danforth pies, I teamed up with one of my blogging inspirations, and collaborator on the "One Cup Sketch" series (to return in the new year), Yasmin Seneviratne- she runs Le Sauce. Very worthy of a visit!

Salads to start, as we planned on having a slow and enjoyable meal. With a pizza each, the greens were a light way to begin. This one, the Endive and Grapefruit ($11) was small, served in the center of a big white dish, creamy vinaigrette hardly denting the flavour. When you have rosy, meaty grapefruit, sauce isn't that important. Even though the endive is a headliner, I found the traces of golden beet to really take over, with their sweetness and memory of fresh dug earth. I like this salad because it is watery and refreshing, and the walnuts are candied, toasted to make a nice sweet crunch.

It's probably the signature dish at Libretto, that big-name baller that every meat eater has to try on a kind of gut level. It has confit duck? I am getting THAT! we cry out upon perusal of the menu in its fancy italics, eyes hanging on the promise of fat fowl and tart seasonal fruit. The Duck Confit ($17) pizza really delivered, though it wasn't quite what I expected. It was not so fatty, the duck meat reduced to a tender ragu. It took me some time to place it, but the flavour if like Christmas on a crust. Stuck without family this holiday? come to Libretto, it tastes like turkey, but sweeter and more tender. These pizza's are seared in a whopping 900 degrees. The dough cools fast because it's thin, but remains elastic, full of personality. It's delicate flavour is an unassuming vessel for shards of equally humble pear. The duck is a salty attention hog- as it should be. The salt tastes bright, brought to this clarity by the perfect amount of fresh olive oil. The mozza cools and solidifies pretty quickly.

It makes delicious leftovers, as in the end it was more than I could eat.

I was not alone desire to start with something fresh! Yasmin also got a salad. I'll take a moment here to talk about the service. It's a very hipster joint, I was really surprised. The staff look like they all come from OCAD (I would know!), all laid back and cool, and surprisingly attentive. I mean. For hipster staff. What does that even mean anymore? Hipster? Isn't that pretty much the majority now? I'm probably a confused pup. They keep a good eye on their tables, though! No sooner than the last crumb of blue cheese left the plate, and our pies were in the over, and 90 seconds later, at our table. Kudos! Our glasses were always full.

So, this salad! I tried a little, and it was what you would expect of a carefully handled fruit and greens salad. Refreshing, crisp, the pears adding a little acidity, but mostly crispness. Yasmin and I both fawned over the figs (so many tastes in a common!). They were fat little guys. The blue cheese was very musky, with evil blue veins. the dressing was a lightly salted oil, which quietly let the fruits do the talking.

And finally, the last pizza! Even though this one is named the Quattro formaggi ($18) for it's buffala mozzarella, montasio, moliterno and parmigiano reggiano, Yasmin summed it up more aptly: "the truffle pizza". The almost liquid black fungi pools look ominous, and taste amazing. I don't think I've honed my taste buds to truffle though, and I felt overwhelmed by the amazing and complex mix of cheeses. It was strong, with pleasantly stinky mozarella, dry and wakening parmessan, and a creamy blend of moliterno and montasio. I think I have a lot to learn about cheese, actually, and may wander of to Cheese Magic to experiment with flavours. In the end, I think what I loved the most here was the clear fresh tomato sauce, as simple and as enjoyable as the day.

The County General

One of my favourite things to do in Toronto pre-blog was go to Oddfellows taco night. I was sad to hear that they closed. I was and am very happy with who's moved in to replace them (though I will miss that tangy black bean paste!).

The County General is right at the corner of Shaw and Queen, where the street is quiet enough that you aren't being pushed along, but still pulses with the anticipatory feeling Queen West embodies. It's lively. It's a long ass wait to get in. That's what you get late on a Friday at a place that doesn't take reservations- they know they don't need to.

It's a fun shape for a restaurant, long and narrow. There uses to be a skinny, all-encompassing communal table in the spots previous incarnation, but the General has move things in a more traditional direction, somehow squeezing many small square tables into the dining hall. There isn't much wiggle room. Ever yet en vogue wood is on everything, wood lining the ceiling, a wall of wood ends jutting out in a way that is both artistic and disconcerting. We sit at the bar, which somehow stretches nearly the full length while leaving room for tables. It's spacious enough to eat at, and it's nice to get to watch Steven make drinks (he's a familiar face from my days working at the Drake, but I did feel like we should have been ordering with a server and not him! He had his hands full making some really ballin' cocktails. They have house pickled cherries for the Manhattan's yes).

More and more often lately I've been feeling less meaty, and the menu, despite it's barbecue bent, is very accommodating. The deviled eggs ($1.50) were fiery little devils, served in a bowl so deep I wondered if they needed to be kept from escaping. There was some hot mustard in the yolk, and thank goodness they went easy on the mayo. It's too easy to get heavy handed with devilled eggs. The mustard tasted like Kozlicks to me, and I approve. There were shards of red onion and chive to add crunch and juice, and just a dash of paprika for effect. Nicely done!

There was a bit of a wait before all our party got together, so I also got some kimchi ($3.00) to nibble on. It was a plentiful bowl! The cabbage was strong, crisp just at the thickest part of the leaf. The rest was lightly cooked, spicy and tangy, but very salty. It was overpowering in that respect, and needed to be eaten slowly, in between bite of other things. There was too much salt, which is a shame. I usually adore kimchi.

Over salty kimchi is the only thing that didn't stand out in a meal of well-crafted and enjoyable country sandwiches. The menu was made up of southern inspired nosh, with distinctly Toronto twists. Take our strong vegetarian and vegan eaters, here represented with a very well put together 'meatball'. The white bean meatball sandwich ($10) was more decadent and authentic than I really expected. It resides somewhere between the taste profiles of an Italian fried sandwich, luscious and virgin tomato sauce adding the strongest flavour, with a hint of the old South, with a crisp and oil deep fried shell, and a thick slab of soft bread. Also, there were FOUR sizable nonmeatballs, the beans just firm enough in the centers to hold this bad boy together, and make for a hefty little meal. Served with a leafy salad of Boston lettuce.

Trevor has become a lover of the steamed bun, it would seem. When last we dined, he tried his first banh-mi, and I think it has made him a kind of convert. Again, here the General takes a southern dish - smoked pork belly ($10), and gives it a Toronto twist, incorporating our love of Asian food, maybe in homage to our big and bustling Chinatown. The barbecue rich pulled pork, dry smoked and grainy, is sandwiched in steamed bun sliders, chewy and floury, with the gummy skin steamed bread gets. Three kinds to enjoy, avocado, apply slaw, or spicy Korean kimchi.

Such height and grandeur! Are you catching my horrible puns today? Has anyone else here seen King of the Hill? Once upon a time, my sister was obsessed (many years ago, please friends, do not judge!). Here is a fried chicken thigh sandwich ($12). This little guy made up for his diameter in height, even taller than the tumbler of greasy, crunchy fries he came with. I like a fluffy and absorbent bun with greasy chicken! Made all the prettier with black and white sesame sparkles. I can't describe it more, because Jenn devoured it quickly, in a hard work induced famine.

This is a way I've never seen an apple pie ($5 + $3 a la mode), served wide and thin, the apples sliced thickly, stuck into the pastry with glutinous love. It seemed on the surface like a stuffed dessert pita bread, but seemed more robust in consumption. I was assured that is was incredibly delicious!

My darling, let's get married. I was gone with the wind when this sticky dark lover arrived on my plate, oozing salted caramel. What forbidden indulgences! What buttery topping! Oh love! I am very glad the cupcake ($3) was slightly larger than a thimble, because such richness and decadence can only be enjoyed in about two bites. Butter cream added height and was spiced in a way I am hard pressed to describe.

And addendum to this incredible meal: if you find a small yellow notebook detailing in ecstasies the delights of the county general, please call me. It's brand new, and I've lost it, alas.