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.

Grand Electric

Like a bolt of hot pink lightning from the sky, everyone is jittering with the words GRAND and ELECTRIC (or so it seems to me). When did this happen? Even before they opened their doors at 1330 Queen West, the new hot house of heavenly food was bursting with good reputation. I will spare you the repeat of Grand Electric's history, which can be summed up better by mind with more knowledge of what happens behind kitchen doors. I'm here to talk about food.

I'm also here, briefly, to talk about type. I never thought much of illegible lettering until Michael DeForge (a talent who exploded into recognition the last couple years in the comics realm) wrote a bit about it, and his own experiments with the tough lettering. It gave me a new appreciation for words you have to work to enjoy, but I never felt I have a good chance to try it out. Drawn and Devoured is about food, and drawing, and it is also intended to give me room to practice my lettering. I enjoy it but have a long way to go to achieve any great skill. With their punk music and their in your face attitude, Grand Electric presented me with a muse for aggressive letters!

You should call and listen to the voicemail. Sassy.

By now menus in the form of photographs and word of mouth have filtered out into the universe of people with their ears and eyes open to what's up with Toronto food. I went to Grand Electric not really knowing what to expect other than a very, very long list of bourbon. The menu, modest in size and promising in turn of phrase, is Mexican inspired, with some Canadian ingredients thrown into the mix to add a little local love. This Guac + Chips was good and simple, very unassuming. The chips were floury and hard, oil and crisp. These are good things, but different. I could really taste the corn. Both the pico and guac themselves were very traditional, just a hint of cilantro added to make them more than just tomato, or more than just avocado. The pork rind was sweet, salty, puffy and delightfully smoky.

This picture is a bit of a misrepresentation! You can get one Taco or three in a go at Grand Electric, and they're small softies, their shells gently cradling a variety of fillings. you can choose beef cheek, baja fish, arbol chicken or pork belly al pastor. We ordered one of each, but wound up with two beef and no fish, so that was kind of too bad. The dimly lit restaurant IS still in it's first month, and is inundated with people vying for attention and food. We could also have asked for a correction I suppose, but instead went ahead and ate what we were given!

The tortilla has the most pronounced flavour out of all the ingredients of each taco. It's yellow and corny, and goes great with the house salsas on the table. They're surprisingly flaky and elastic at the same time. When eating these tacos, the flavours do melt together very easily. The pork belly has a spicy aftertaste, and mostly taste of cilantro and sweet ingrained bbq sauce. The beef cheek is FATTY and tender, but could use a little more kick. It taste very simply of beef, and gets overpowered by the waxy wedges of avocado it comes with. The arbol chicken is the winner for me. It's extra hot, the heat hitting like a clear sunny day, it tastes bright. There's something musky like a stinky cheese or natto which really surprises me, because it works. I don't really think there was natto on this taco, but it's what I tasted.

The salad itself is nothing to get excited about. It's very plain, the buttermilk dressing like a less adventurous, tame ranch dressing, the salad itself little more than succulent and meaty Boston lettuce leaves with spears of radish. It's refreshing, but by itself would be disappointing. It comes with this LOVELY croquette of pulled pork, fried to crunchy perfection. It's great broken up on top of the leaves. The pork flakes away in chunks. It tastes like it's been tenderized by sitting in some evil, dark dieu du ciel beer. La fin fu monde! Pas de tout, c'est si delicieux. Pardon my French. The coke reduction is very strong, and the toasted pepita's offer a fun crunch, better than croutons.

I'm a lover of ceviche. It's the fish that science invented! And it usually tastes fresh and tender and mind blowing. It CERTAINLY did here, and for me this was the best dish of the night. The tostada that the fish and sundry vegetables nested atop was flaky and fried, very corny and homey tasting. It's salty body soaked up the ample amount of SUPER garlicky aioli (so good). There were pickled beans, crisped onions and slivers of jalapeno and deadly Chinese peppers (there is an official name for them that less conveys their evil heat, and it avoids my memory in this moment). The fish is light, translucent, and mellow. It's perfect.

Here's is a little peek at the menu. It's missing some items, like the soup that is apparently the ONE thing you HAVE to get at Grand Electric, and is naturally the one thing we did not get. This key lime pie in a glass jar will take away my sorrow! Dense whipped cream with bright little stars of candied lime rind shaved over it is a good start, and then you get to the filling, which is more custardy than limey. It's refreshing but also very rich, and doesn't taste fake or over the top. The graham crust at the bottom adds just the right amount of sweet comfort, and a touch of vanilla.

Foodwares Market

Recent events have had me lurking underneath The Bay at Queen Street a few times last week, like some high end alligator, maw open wide. Since I was there and found myself suddenly dinner dateless, I thought it would be a nice chance to check out the very Canadian Bannock, a restaurant by Oliver and Bonacini. Navigating the PATH can be a little confusing. In this case, Bannocks grab and go section is located somewhere over the subterranean exit of the TTC...one of them, anyhow. Turned around by the lack of daylight and the ensuing destruction of my sense of direction, I found myself stocking up on items at a place called Foodwares Market, though their lack of signage on half the cafe had me believing I was, actually, at Bannock. It was only after getting the receipt for a haul that would provide a days worth of meals that I saw the title of the cafe I had just raided. Well! No need to turn back. Though Food Wares doesn't share Bannocks notoriety or appealing name, it turned out to be a happy mistake. It's a cafeteria worth visiting for Toronto's Bay Street workers.

My plan was to have lunch there, and also get some take out items to keep me going through the day. I got to try many things! Ah, the joys of eating by oneself. Breakfast started with a not-super healthy Banana Chip Muffin ($2.23). Once upon a time, the muffin was a modestly sized healthy alternative to breakfast danish and doughnut. Things evolve wickedly, don't they? These muffins are pretty sinful. They aren't the largest I've seen, and the muffin tops aren't towering, but there's more than a couple cubic inches of sweet dough that makes them. Most delicious about them it that their fluffy little hearts are gooey with butter. Have you ever had a cookie from Le Gourmand? Imaging that cookie as a muffin. Decadent, warm, creamy, and just enough bitter dark chocolate to make the sweet dough sing. It went damn well with their Illy coffee (not my favourite brand, but nothing to turn ones nose up at).

I was back for lunch before hopping onto the subway with some bagged items in tow. Since I had a little time to sit and eat, I got soup and a wrap. The soups come in three sizes, so you can choose if you just want a taste, a hearty bowl, or a meal-sized portion. I went for the middle size, and there were four hot soups in cauldrons to choose from, each piping and appealing. Since I adore my seafood, and rich dishes, the Shrimp and Lobster Bisque ($3.79) piqued my interest. It's not a bad price for such a dish either, though it only comes with a little pack of saltines. A hunk of rustic bread costs another dollar. The soup itself was a bit dull. I am tempted to say that that is the error of my taste buds, who were dampened with a hint of the flu on this day. The tomato and cream were smooth and not overwhelming, though the thickness of the soup was palpable. The shellfish had mostly been blended into a pulp, with only a few solid kibbles of shrimp floating throughout. Though savoury and pleasantly hot, I would try something else next time.

After the hot soup I had a vegetarian wrap. There are a few nice veggie options at Foodwares Market, which is great! I sometimes wind up getting a quick lunch at grocery stores or markets, and the only veg option is usually a mayo-laden egg salad sandwich. Yucko. This Wild Mushroom, Brie and Boursin Wrap ($6.99), comes pre-packaged and ready to go. I think they're made fresh in the morning, eliminating the problem of how quickly wraps get soggy.  Thanks to the less-moist ingredients, the wrap was the right mix between juicy and dry, the lettuce coiling within the pita bread to add a crisp layer around the filling. It mostly tastes like fresh dark green lettuce, crunchy cukes and basil leaf, balanced with the luscious cheeses. Between the mushroom and lettuce, and earthy rind from the brie, I was strangely reminded of damp pines after rain, a foresty freshness. With two creamy cheeses though, all that was hard to notice. It would have been nice to know what kind of mushrooms they are, or to know if they're a blend. Perhaps I shouldn't say it was balanced. It's overwhelming with cheese!

Later on in the day, dinner was a thick piece of Vegetable Foccacia ($) that I brought with me. It didn't fare the journey too well, it's juicy garden top having smashed against the roof of the paper bag, a debris of zucchini and onions everywhere. Still, there were loads of veggies still clinging to their spots in the tomato paste, entrenched into a bread that was as airy as it was rustic. Such a contrast between dry spongy crust, dense and a little charred, and the angelic interior, so light. It was pleasant, and the blackened bread made the herbed sauce all the ore refreshing. Pungent onion, mushroom, tomato slices, zucchini and red pepper made for a juicy meal. I'm sure this is even better without suffering the strains of travel, and next time I will have to try it right from the market.

To end on as sweet a note as I started I kept a delightful Gateau de Basque with me until late in the night. It preserved quite well from the morning baking, and wasn't stale by the time I got to it. The cake is a sponge, like angel food with heavier grains, the edges and bottom dry and crumby. It's kept moist in the interior by this amazing layer of custard tucked away in the centre, which came as a surprise to me. I think this must be a French kind of doughnut, better than a beignet, more refined and decadent, without a heavy handed coating of glaze. No, here was a darling dusting of powder sugar, as nice to look at as to taste. With a cake not so sweet, it added just enough extra tongue-pleasing sugar. The custard in the cake was the real winner for me, exhibiting all the richness and glue of a Portuguese custard tart. Despite the size of the cake, it didn't sit like a heavy dessert, leaving me satisfied but not bloated.

Sadies

Coffee starts with breakfast. No. Stop me, it's backwards. Breakfast starts with coffee, and without it I sometimes don't know my way around. Never mind that I'm writing this at 9 in the evening.

I wanted to wrack up a big appetite when I went to meet Willie at Sadies Diner (whose website exists in the Dark Ages of myspace) for brunch. It's a fair 6km from my house to the oldtimey vegan diner at Portland and Adelaide, and though I wasn't walking fast it did the trick to make my stomach growl, and for the last half of my trip I flat out craved that hot coffee!

And when it hit my tongue I was left with a strong and memorable impression of meh.

Sadly, it went for the whole meal. 

The brunch wound up with a funny vegan Tex Mex angle. Understand, Sadie's is in no way a Tex Mex place. It just so happened that on this occasion our appetites had migrated, as the geese do, to the south. Can't blame them. I had the vegan Huevos Rancheros (10$), one of my favourite brunch dishes usually. Willie got to tell me a bit about different soy based cheeses, since I am a blank slate. I know nothing. Do they pair well with wine? I am told, no, they don't. They don't melt, either...except for Daiya cheese, which is why it is a BIG DEAL for vegans. Sadie's uses Daiya. I did like it, too, though it is stiffer than milkcheese. It has a similar taste, but floury. That interesting newness aside, I don't think the tortillas were good. The tofu 'egg' was cold, and hadn't really been made 'eggy' in any way. It just tasted like tofu. Cold tofu, in big dry clumps. No turmeric to turn it yellow, even! I know that a lot can be done for vegan scrambled eggs, and this was a bottom line effort. You can't go too wrong with brown beans and a crunchy tortilla at least.
In instances like this, I praise my love of hot sauce, and soak that dish.

Keeping with a deep south theme, Willie went for a more lunch like nosh, and got the Quesadillas (9$). A mix of predictable veggies tasted good, but didn't open our eyes to anything new and delightful, and weren't handled in a way that made the stuffed tortillas seem rethought. It wasn't delicious, just plain. I complain a lot about the lack of inventiveness in the zucchini-eggplant-peppers trinity vegetarian dishes tend to favour, though it's most often a symptom of the token vegetarian menu item on an otherwise meat loving menu. Sadie's is mainly vegetarian and vegan! They should be doing something exciting- it's what I expect. So even though I like the Daiya cheese, and there was a fair amount, I think this dish could have been more inventively veganized. One could not even taste the sambal alleged to be in their vegan mayo! One thing I did like was that corny, soft tortilla- I wonder if it's actually made in house?

(You can read Willie's review here).

Keriwa Cafe

Fellow Torontonians, we are spoiled. What is happening in this little town? Or is it just me, who is this last year slowly awakening to astounding worlds of great restaurants and ambitious chefs? I would say it is absolutely the latter, but then...there's Keriwa. Keriwa's been rocking an Aboriginal inspired menu for just over a month, and they are rocking it very, very hard. It rotates regularly, and I've been reading all the scrumptious-sounding changes since they opened the doors to their intimate and art-rich (kudos on the amazing wall art!) dining room at 1690 Queen West. My regular coterie landed there on a day when the menu was heavily stocked with bison- no complaints!

A reputation for skill on all fronts must be circulating, because the other guests (just wrapping up when we arrived for our VERY late 9:30 dinner reservation) were none other than the manager of FRANK restaurant, the manager of cafeAGO (my previous employer, a total darling), and I think Gil Bellows (from Ally McBeal, though I could have been wrong...I was a little young when that was on TV). Local and foreign stars! It was great to get a chance to chat with the people from the AGO and grab a couple recommendations from their meal.

Before wine or beer, we were faced with a choice. Were we going to have plain Toronto water, or a choice of Keriwa's waters, one sparkling, one flat? These are 'house-made' waters, though I don't exactly recall the full description of how they were made. I will say the servers (we had two peeking in on us from time to time) were informative and very descriptive of everything we had, friendly to boot. Though they did switch our waters accidentally, and by the end of the night I was drinking sparkling when I had started with still!

Being a set of nibblers, we ordered a few appetizers and a few mains all to share. Bison was the order of the day. Even with the majority of the menu NOT containing the hearty Canadian meat, three out of five of our dishes did. Like a few restaurants I've been to recently (is this the secret to knowing if you're in a great restaurant?), we were served a plate of complimentary bread, which came with raw unsalted butter, smoked sea salt (sooty and a bit like cracklin's- it's sounds gross, but it was incredible), and whipped pork fat (I don't even- like anise, sweet chili and cloying pork mousse).

The first thing to arrive was the Bison Tartar ($12). This was one of the recommendations from table AGO (thanks Victoria!), and it was such a strange thing. First, we got some more house bread, this time grilled into flat, crunchy toasts. I could tell there wouldn't be enough for the three of us, only because the tartar itself was very big. Remember, this is bison, which is very dense and filling- and there was probably a full cup of minced, raw steak on the plate! The taste of lovage was curious, as it's an herb I haven't had the pleasure of trying before. I found it similar to coriander, but not as powerful or as citrus. The tender meat abolished the need to butter the toast, it was incredibly juicy. I have had a love for raw red meat since trying a raw beef hand roll at Origin for one of my first reviews (so long ago, now!), and this elevated that love. It was so fresh, and the meat stood out so much, even studded with garlic scapes, sea asparagus, and baby chanterelles (all pickled, I think, since so much in other dishes was). There was a lot of natural pepper in the flavour, and the adobo was light and smoky, only a hint.

Next we  went for Bison Empanadas ($12). I think the theme of that evenings menu was Aboriginal with Spanish flare. The bison had a totally different approach from the tartar, and I personally was thrilled to see it's versatility. With a spice reminiscent of a Jamaican patty (understand I mean taken to a completely different level), the meat in the empanadas had a saucy, pulled texture rich with spice and some heat. The pastry scored big for me, it was almost like a dessert pie crust, flaky, solid. Because the dish was actually cold, and the grilled-then-chilled peach salsa piled on the side was incredibly sweet, I really felt like this was dessert. Meat and sweet, but oddly, like dessert. Just a bit of arugula kept this from being too rich.

Surprise surprise, the next dish was..BISON! This time something very true to Canadian roots, Braised Bison Pemmican ($14), with Saskatoon berries. I very quickly mistook them for blueberries, and raved about how small and adorable and hard they were, and what a strong flavor! Foolish Katherine. They are not blueberries, though with a smoky skin, they look very similar. Like the meat, they had been dried enough to be chewy. Here the bison had the same kind of pulled texture as the empanadas we just finished, but drier. The taste was COMPLETELY different, incomparable. Smokey with an undercurrent of cinnamon sweetness, the pemmican was way more gamey than the other dishes. It was also super tender, and caused many eyes to roll in ecstasy. If they have this on the menu again take my word and order it. You will thank yourself. You will thank Keriwa. With it came a little salad of sour pickles (bean, spicy radish?) on greens, and some AMAZING fry bread! The fry bread was chewy and crisp, sprinkled with the smoky sea salt we got to try with our bread and butter starter. It was not absorbent, but made to have meat piled on top. I think there was more of that cinnamon undercurrent.

Moving on from our orgiastic enjoyment of red, tender bison, came a dish of Rainbow Trout ($23). It was a delicately perched slab of fish, carried by a palanquin of roasted heirloom tomatoes and squash. Skin is so important on a fish. This wasn't blackened or crackled, simply seared, keeping its fatty elasticity. The clear taste of a freshwater fish was untainted by unnecessary accouterments. The tomatoes were incredibly sweet, almost as strong as if they had been sun dried, and dripped with a puree of basil and oil. Like an exotic treat, a ricotta stuffed, tempura-battered squash blossom topped the lot. It was hard to split, and I wanted it all to myself. The vegetable armour provided just enough body.

Even though I had been eyeballing a towering piece of peach pie topped with a scoop of ice cream at the table next to ours, we were getting stuffed. Did I mention how very filling Bison is? Even with so little, it had us feeling packed, and we finished off on a refreshing note of Beet Salad with Hazelnuts ($11). It is possible to describe a salad as fun, and it is possible because it contained potato chips. Yes. Little baby potatoes must have been finely mandolined into slivers to fry, no more than two centimeters in diameter. They studded the boldly red and yellow dish with crunchy and salty bursts. The yellow beets were milder and less irony than the bloody red ones, both pickled to soften them even more. Studs of sweet hazelnut drove me wild for their oakiness. There were dollops of milky ricotta, and more pickled vegetables in the form of lemongrass and a leek that came out like boiled rhubarb in texture, surprisingly sweet! Keriwa contains master picklers.

Keriwa. Just go.

Woodlot

Woodlot is like the Golden Fleece. It's a legend, some scintillating thing that is unattainable, that everyone wants. When it opened nearly a year ago off the corner of College and Palmerston getting a reservation was pretty much impossible- it's still tricky to get anything other than a late dinner if you're making a reservation the week of. It's casual fine dining in the setting of a renovated garage. Industrial glam with exposed lights, raw wood, cement, and great allure. You enter and can either eat at the big communal table (a frequent spot for walk-ins to alight), you may go down into the moody bar area with it's long polished counter to dine at, or do as we did and rise up to the interior balcony overlooking the kitchen. It's great to be able to watch a chef and their team at work, but we wound up at a little table nestled against the back wall in seclusion and intimate privacy.

It was something of a special event for me, as my mom has been visiting from Australia, which she does every couple years. She really wanted to come on a blog dinner, and go somewhere...special. She likes to tell us how the prices in Perth for average food are so astronomically high that even fine dining here seems like a light check to leave! Woodlot, for the quality, is not even that up there. We went with my sister Mary and our good friend Elena, whose ship was at port in Toronto for the first time in ages. Lots of visitors from afar!

Quickly, we were plied with a basket of days bread. Woodlot is also a bakery during the light hours, and I've had their loaves at other restaurants. This is a restaurateurs restaurant and Woodlots distinct red fife with it's stone-heated, crusty bottom, seems to pop up at all the nicest places I eat. I love their bread but as the server said, they'd burnt the pumpernickel that day (I still enjoyed it, and asked for a loaf when we left- nothing butter can't fix in the right quantity. They had so many in baskets, left over! She was a total dear and gave us a few loaves to take home...super nice!).

Tomato Watermelon Gazpacho - 9
To get us warmed up, we began the cool night with an equally chilled soup. It really isn't meant for a four way split, but we managed. Watermelon and rich tomato reduce to make a soup only a bit thicker than broth, oddly hearty. It had such an interesting play between tangy and sweet. The bites of salty feta and black olive nibbles brought the sweetness back into focus after each bite.

Hokkaido Scallop Ceviche -14
Visually more related to sushi than I would have anticipated, the ceviche arrived in elegance. The scallop was tender, and unlike other ceviche that I've had, you hardly noticed the lime, which was cleaned away before serving. Instead there was a side of fat black quinoa grains, and a whipped avocado sour cream. I found that too overpowering with the delicate, darling scallops. The quinoa was wonderful by itself, hearty with crunchy kernel hearts. Sea asparagus spears and grapefruit sections added bursts of difference. There were flakes of sea salt that kept us coming back for more.

Roast Naturally Raised Flatiron Steak - 27
We were all so blown away! Mary had this great steak, which is funny for a couple reasons. Mary isn't a big beef fan, and she also (I'm sorry Mary!) has never known how to appreciate the meat. She gets steaks well done. In a very bold move she ordered this medium well done, and I was impressed. The poor chefs, having to do that to beautiful meat. It may have come out straight medium, it was still very red in the middle- Mary has always hated the red. She loved this. I love this. My mom and Elena loved this. With hints of miso and soy, there was a seriously interesting and rustic undertone to the meat, but it never overpowered a genuine flavour. The scallions piled over the slices of tender meat were pearly and translucent, garlicky as well as oniony, adding a gentleness.

Chop of Whey-fed Pork - 26
A whole half belgian endive (witlof, my mother calls it by its Dutch name) was grilled and laid atop a sliced brick of pork, it's fatty rind thick and seeping flavor into the meat. The vegetable was very bitter, as you would expect, but with sprinkles of salt over buttery olive oil which when eaten with the pork, made a balance. I thought I tasted a tease of balsamic. I found the meat hearty for pork, actually quite sustaining. The drippings tasted of smoke and cracklins, but mostly the meat was natural and that was all it needed.

Roast Pacific Pickerel & Porcini - 23
Simplicity is the best route to take when handling fish. Anything heavy handed, and you lose the delicacy, especially with a white fish. Here the pickerel flaked off the fork, little drops of natural oil peeking from the crisp (not crackled) skin. It was a light cilantro drizzle than punctuated a fresh flavour. The fish had a good natural fat, while still solid and just cooked enough to be hot without even coming close to dryness. I would compare it to satin. The wedge of fish was beautifully accented with shaved fennel, peas and beans.

Red Fife Whole Wheat Papardelle - 15/21
These noodles were wide and flat, ambitiously encroaching on lasagna in breadth. The red fife grain doesn't change much of the flavour or texture compared to regular semolina pasta, but I felt very full for the amount in my small order. That could be because the pasta was so wonderfully cheesy! The sauce was spiked with a vinegary taste of mustard, but mostly tasted of butter, cream and romano. It was very rich! What really amazed me was the whole filberts studding the whorls of noodle, adding crunch and a lusty sweetness. There was also a sprinkling of tangy baby chanterelles on top, making the dish wind up hearty and earthy.

Caramelized Jerusalem Artichokes - 6
Not realizing how filling even a small order of the papardelle would be, I had ordered these Jerusalem artichokes. This is another first in my slowly growing knowledge of good food, and less common ingredients. I really has expected, well, artichokes. These little fellows look like beets. While there's a hint of the succulent bitterness of a globe artichoke, it's very hard to compare them. Apples and oranges. These were bittersweet, the sweetness coming from a heavy caramelizing. They were firm and crunchy like radish, but hot as hell! I thought I could taste hints of parsley and leek, and like many things from our dinner at Woodlot, a twist of citrus. They were a hint too heady sweet for my taste in the end.

Japanese Cheesecake - 9
Occasionally I find cheesecake so painfully overwhelming and heavy handed- but this is Woodlot. The cheesecake was light with a texture more like spongecake, the cheese milder than one would find elsewhere, cut with a citrus hint of orange zest. Even the amaretti graham crust it sat on had a lightness to it. The pistachio ice cream began to melt quickly as a flurry of spoons hurried to try everything by itself, scooping up gobs of ripe peach as well, and then together for the meld of flavour. Together it's very sweet, but taken alone the different components are unique and enjoyable.

Goats milk and Wildflower Honey Panna Cotta - 9
Gelatinous in texture, the panna cotta wiggled its way onto our table, tapered from the jelly form it had once inhabited. What is this orange powder on top? Advertised as honeycomb? What odd concoction? It took a little while and some guesswork to figure out why, when eaten, the sugary coating seemed more solid. It's ground up sponge toffee, with no doubt. The texture was a bit too odd, though kudos for the innovation. The actual sweet cheese was as lovely as fresh cream. It was a smooth gel that was not nearly as heavy as goat cheese, and didn't taste much like it. The fat pickled blueberries were flowery and juicy. Great but for the topping, which gave it a bit of a junk-food spin I could have gone without.

Soma Chocolate and Hazelnut Pot de Creme - 9
It's so lovely to see some conspiring between Toronto fixtures. Soma is a lovely chocolatemaker down in the Distillery District, and the cocoa used here comes from them. They make some extraordinary hot chocolate! Out of the desserts, this wound up swaying us all with it's bitter citrus kick and sweet ground hazelnut lid. Not bad for something I blurting out a desire for just as our server was leaving the table. Little flakes of sea salt were fireworks on our tongues, working teasingly with the smooth, rich, strong dessert.