Here, Eat This! The Adventures of Kiki Maraschino

Tuesday was our last night in Ontario. Another cousin and his very witty girlfriend took us out for dinner. When someone else is treating, you go where you are taken. So in spite of buffets having a bad reputation of quantity over quality, we went to a Chinese buffet.

Wow. I could definitely see why they were so excited to go there. This was not like any buffet I have been to. The room was tasteful and chic. They had those cool old Mai Tai/Singapore Sling placemats so I knew it was going to be good.

They had a huge assortment. Of everything. I chose to avoid the seafood and sushi, since no one can do everything well. These popular sections are never a good idea. The ribs and chicken were fantastic. They had an excellent assortment of noodle dishes as well.

The dim sum was impressive. These were beautiful, even if the red bean paste filling was a little dry. The desserts also tend to be an area of disappointment in buffets. Their table was hit and miss. Some of the selections were fantastic, some were ho-hum and some were so bizarre they had me enthralled.

Isn’t Jell-o one of the most psychedelic things ever?

So that night I fell asleep for the last time listening to my mom and aunt reminiscing about their childhoods. Every single story seemed to start with, “Remember the time the cow got out? And Mother was so mad?””

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On Monday we hooked up with my dad’s side of the family and went to the Museum of Textiles.

There was a demo/participation display and since it was unattended, my mom walked over and started weaving to show my uncle and cousin how the machine worked. It completely blew their minds. Of course it also completely blew their minds that I photograph my food. Welcome to our world! Sorry, there is no guidebook.

One of the current exhibits, Rugs of War was extremely heavy. It was comprised of rugs woven in Afghanistan during the Soviet occupation. It was really strange to see little tanks and guns in place of birds and blossoms.

I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day and it was after 4 o’clock. So I ran around the corner to a Roti shop I had noticed. A roti is an East Indian flatbread similar to a tortilla. In the West Indes, they are stuffed and made into a sort of burrito, also referred to as a “roti”. East meets West.

As I often do in unfamiliar territory, I asked the lady to just make it as if she were making it for herself. I ended up with curried chicken and something like daal. It was genius. I wish we had roti shops here; I would eat them for lunch every day.

Wanting to show us a nice time, our relatives drove us to the picturesque nearby town of Mississauga, pronounced Mrs. Saga. We walked along the water, then had dinner at their favorite place – Snug harbour. It was just like a movie location, “Find me a seaside restaurant! I need more life preservers on the walls!”

The local fish was catfish from Lake Erie. Although it was cooked with Cajun seasonings, it was very different than the catfish from the salt water in the Gulf of Mexico. It was much cleaner-tasting (ironic, coming from Lake Erie). It was missing that appealing muddy flavor that probably explains why children like to eat dirt.

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Canoe is a well-reviewed restaurant serving nouvelle Canadian cuisine. It is part of a restaurant group similar to Patina. I was surprised to be dropped off at a high-rise office building with instructions to take an elevator up to the top floor.

Sometimes I order things that sound strange because I am daring the restaurant to make it taste good, which is how I ended up drinking a “Locust.” It is a combination of Grasshopper wheat beer, ginger ale, and Limoncello. And you know what? It worked. Far better than a shandy. After that one experiment, I went for my usual champagne – they had my favorite, Perrier Jouet with the flowers on it.

I started with a chowder of Ontario fiddlehead ferns and BC spot prawns. Fiddleheads are kind of like asparagus, only grassier, maybe a little like pea shoots. It was topped with a wild leek and yukon rouille, a Provencial French sauce for soups. Yes, only the French would think a soup needs a sauce.

Next I was a little daring and had a plate from the tasting menu – Potato gnocchi with crispy sweetbreads and foie gras. The sauce/foam was rich with cream and morel mushrooms. The person who was delivering plates and explaining the ingredients had a very strong French-Candian accent, and I couldn’t understand hardly anything he said. In the dim restaurant, it was difficult to make out what was what. The waiter, who I was loving, was staring at the plate trying to help me make out the individual ingredients. You know you are in an expensive restaurant when the waiter is willing to stand and ponder your dinner with you. Suddenly I remembered in a pack-for-emergencies moment I had thrown a Mag light in my bag. So I shone a spotlight on the dish, sweetbreads were identified, and voila!

I was brought an intermezzo of a celery foam. I expected a light refreshing palate cleanser, but there was a layer of salt on top that was so intense, instead my palate received an intensive salt scrub by a vicious Swedish masseuse. Uncle! Uncle! I’m cleansed! My palate is immaculate! I give in!

For my main dish I ordered the bison striploin with North woods mushrooms, confit potatoes and a peppercorn sauce that was similar to a bernaise. There was such a treasure trove of exciting new mushrooms to try – Black trumpet, cinnamon cap, yellow foot, blue foot, and more, that I ate them all before I remembered to take a picture. The confit potatoes were so delicious I am just going to start cooking everything in duck fat from now on. Meatloaf? Confit! Apple pie? Confit!

The buffalo was lovely – kind of like beef with a taste of the wild. It’s strange that I am not usually a fan of game, but I love buffalo. Maybe it is my native roots. Or maybe it is the fact that when I was growing up my mom had a freezer stuffed full of buffalo meat. I never knew where it came from. Or if it was really buffalo. Recently when I asked about it she told me she had traded for it.

Check out this crazy Dr Seuss garnish

I only have one memory of my great-grandmother Hopkins. We were at a rare family picnic somewhere in BC. I was asking her what saskatoons looked like. She said, “Well, they look…like that!” We had stumbled upon some wild bushes and picked enough to bring back to the picnic. Canoe had a dessert that came with saskatoons, which the waiter was kind enough to bring me on the side, and they made me a little maudlin.

I have been going easy on desserts, but I had to try Sticky Toffee Pudding made with Glen Breton Rare Whiskey, Toffee Sauce and Parsnip ice cream. Seriously. Standing alone, the parsnip ice cream was successful, but didn’t do anything for me. When my waiter convinced me to try it together with everything in one bite, it did actually make it good. Trippy. This is the third time in a month I have seen kumquats in a fancy restaurant, so I guess they are an up-and-coming fruit.

I loved the service, I loved the atmosphere and I loved the food. I loved the chef, Anthony Walsh, so much I sent him a glass of champagne. The dishes were all creative, but based upon local ingredients. They definitely disproved the theory that restaurants with views all suck.

Downstairs there were two city blocks of taxis waiting. Normally you go to the first taxi in the line, but it was cold, and that first taxi was really far away. So I opened the door of the nearest taxi and asked what the pecking order was. He said there wasn’t one, so I hopped in. Within seconds, there was another cabbie at the driver’s window, screaming in his face that he was stealing fares and he knew I should go in the first taxi. I thought about getting out and going to the first taxi, but then the guy screamed in the window, “I am going to fucking stomp your fucking face in!” I didn’t really want to get in his taxi after that. So my cabbie and I drove off with the guy still grabbing at the window.

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Wednesday I woke up and headed straight to Lai Wah Heen. It is quite possibly the best dim sum in Toronto. At the very least it is definitely the most elegant. The elevators have different paintings but I love this one because it looks as if they are deciding what button to press.

The menu is filled with exotic and glamourous-sounding temptations that sometimes border on the mysterious, as with the “rainbow chopped in crystal fold” and the “Billionaire egg white fried rice flavoured with shredded conpoy.” The pan-seared foie gras arrived with a sweet sauce, mildly touched with ginger alongside tempura asparagus.

I ordered the shark fin soup – just because. The dumpling was really the star of the dish. The shark’s fin were long strands of clear straw like Barbie hair. Mmmm, cartilagenous.

The dumplings pictured starting on the left are the Phoenix eye purse (fish maw and sprouts), steamed crabmeat, corn and cured ham dumpling, chicken and scallion, and steamed duckling dumpling with foie gras. The Phoenix eye purse was interesting looking, but did not stand out. It was adorable that the corn dumpling was folded to look like an ear of corn, but the simple chicken and scallion was actually the best of the dim sum.

It is so wrong that the duckling dumpling is made to look like a little duck – but in a good way. The foie gras flavor was so mild as to almost be absent.

The chilled duo of lychee and jasmine tea puddings was clever and definitely tasted like tea. They were probably made with agar agar.

Afterwards, I checked out the Bata Shoe Museum. It not only had the pop culture and fashion shoes I expected, but a number of interesting anthropological exhibits.

Bowie’s shoes from the “Serious Moonlight Tour”. I wanted to smash the glass and steal them so I could burn them and salt the ground so nothing could ever suck that badly again.

I took a cab over to Kensington market. My cabbie was from Trinidad, so we sang calypso songs along the way. He got so caught up in singing, he forgot to put on the meter. He offered me a free ride, but I know they are hard up so I gave him a fair sum and asked for a recommendation for a Trini restaurant.

Kensington Market has a lot of cool hipster and hippie shops, like Blue Banana.

I especially enjoyed a store called Blue Banana where I bought some gifts for friends back home and some bath bombs to spoil myself.

A fellow Roadfooder had recommended the debrezini sausage at European Meats and Sausages. By the time I got there near closing they were out of debrezini, so I enjoyed a knockwurst, which was scored and resembled a stegasaurus tail in a bun.

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On Tuesday I took off for a little solo exploration. I lucked into a killer room at the Westin Harbour Castle – if you are going to Toronto, this is definitely the place to stay.

The view from my room:

I headed over to the St Lawrence Market to Paddington’s for a peameal sandwich. Remember the backbacon Bob and Doug McKenzie were always talking about? This is real Canadian back bacon.

Butter tarts are a Canadian specialty similar to pecan tarts. They can be served simply, but are usually baked with raisins and walnuts in the filling.

Cheese-stuffed peppers

At the St Lawrence Wine Market the process of pressing ice wine was explained to me in a strong  accent, “We have to wait until the grapes, they freeze for THREE days. Then we hand-pick the grapes. Then we press the grapes. You get ONE DROP of liquid from each grape. With the red wines, you have to get the skin. You know how hard it is to get a drop of liquid from a frozen grape skin?” Because I am a sucker for a colorful story, and because it did sound pretty hard I bought the wine.

Alex Farms, whose theme was “An adventure in cheese” had an interesting Guinness cheese.

That night I had dinner at the Asian fusion restaurant Monsoon

I was surprised to see such a well-reviewed restaurant so empty. But that turned out to be the case for most of Toronto. Tourist traffic is down and cabbies were fighting over my fare.

I ordered a flight of sake. They had 2 flights, as well as wine flights.  The Tozai “well of wisdon” was very gentle. Onokoroshi junmai daiginjo “demon slayer” sake had one hell of a kick. It had a “raw silk” texture. I am still not a big fan, although I enjoyed the Moonstone Asian pear-infused sake. The Nigori Pearl antique-style, which was roughly filtered, was kind of like what I imagine the liquor you make in prison by spitting on fruit must be like.

I started with a dim sum platter that was kind of a disappointment. The chicken satay was fine, but the beef satay was pure gristle. If you’re only going to offer one single bite of beef, it should be the perfect bite. The fried shrimp dumpling, Thai fish cake and salt-cured salmon with the texture of tapioca weren’t worth more than a test bite. But the papaya salad was refreshing and delicious.

The tempura vegetables cooled quickly, and probably should have arrived as an appetizer instead of a side dish.

Pork belly is normally served in French restaurants; it worked well with Vietnamese flavors.

I wasn’t sure what to do with myself after dinner. But I looked up and the answer was right in front of me.

I am not a stereotype

So I have to stand in this Star Trek thing and the guy says “I’m going to check you for explosives”

Suddenly, hard jets of air hit me right in the face and I make a sound like, “Aughhhh!”

The guy says, I told you I was going to check you for explosives.”

I asked, “Why would I hide explosives on my face???”

Phallic symbol, what?

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