Dessert Trends

Just when I thought I had discovered all there was to know about my hometown, along came an American expatriate who, ironically enough, was the one who introduced me to this trendy community in the South Annex that, up until recently, had remained a hidden gem, unbeknownst to this epicurean Torontonian. Just north of College Street between Ossington and Spadina Avenues is Harbord Street, whose small-town charm and bohemian appeal can be attributed to its eclectic mix of bakeries, bistros, bookshops, music stores, restaurants, and bars.

My first encounter with this neighbourhood occurred one rainy evening not so long ago, when I had the pleasure of dining at The Harbord Room—an interesting establishment that offers a contemporary feel in an otherwise quaint, rustic ambience. The dimly lit tables, for instance, made for an ideal setting for either an intimate gathering of close friends or a romantic dinner for two, and service that evening was prompt, attentive, and friendly.

Of course, I can only speak for myself with respect to the meal (I ordered the whole grilled bronzini—and whole, indeed, it was), which, to paraphrase from the lips of a certain someone, was neither disappointing nor impressive. In other words, great company and stimulating conversation, peppered with some witty banter here and there, were the most appetizing aspects of dinner as far as I was concerned, yet a memorable dining experience it nonetheless was. The grilled bronzini? Mm ... not so much, but perhaps the risotto (with roasted squash, braised kale, toasted nuts, and fresh sheep's milk cheese), like the Ontario Harvest Venison (with squash purée and black currant jus), would have been the more delicious alternative ;).

Although the carrot cake with poached pears (served with vanilla ice cream, pistachio, and carrot cream parfait) was tempting for dessert, I opted instead for what had ultimately piqued my interest: DT Bistro, which I was told specialized in over 20 varieties of pastries, tarts, and cakes. Impressed, I most certainly was. In fact, I was quite the giddy little girl in the candy store or, in this case, this French-inspired pâtisserie.

It was still raining when we left the restaurant and crossed the street, only to discover that the bistro had closed about an hour earlier; however, perhaps upon seeing our doe-eyed expressions, Chef Donald Duong and co-founder Wayne O'Brien not only greeted us with an avuncular warmth and kindness, but also waved us in. While Chef Duong wished us a pleasant evening on his way out the door, Wayne turned the lights back on so that we could be seated, and then proceeded to provide us with the most hospitable service ever imaginable.

From apple flan and Bailey's cheesecake to blueberry parfait mousse and chocolate maple pecan, selecting from the dessert menu proved to be a bit of a challenge, but a decision was quickly made: key lime mousse and chocolate raspberry. Mmm ... a culinary delight, as well as the perfect finishing touch to a fabulous, fun-filled night.

The Harbord Room is located at: 89 Harbord Street (Spadina Avenue)

DT Bistro is located at: 154 Harbord Street (between Bathurst Street and Spadina Avenue)

TERRA Chips

My love affair with TERRA Chips arose from a couple of flights on Porter Airlines, which, like JetBlue Airways, began offering these tasty exotic root-vegetable chips on board its short-haul flights. I call it a love story for a couple of reasons: (1) the scarcity of this product in Canada requires that I go to great lengths to feed my current addiction; and (2) when I do stock up my pantry with these savoury treats, I often devour an entire 170-gram bag in one sitting (per day), which results in a vicious (but very delicious) cycle in my never-ending TERRA Chips adventure.

First of all, these chips aren't like any other (regular) potato chips. These are the real deal, uniquely beautiful both inside and out (what they proudly refer to as "the TERRA difference"), and, in all honesty, the only ones that have succeeded in converting this non-chip-eater to a chip aficionada. When it comes to TERRA, it's all or nothing—the whole package, if you will. Aside from how ridiculously intoxicating these chips are, they really do taste as good as they look and are a guilt-free indulgence ("a full serving of vegetables in every ounce"). From batata and parsnip to taro and yuca, they strike a satisfying balance with their complex, sometimes nutty, yet always intense and delicate bounty of flavours. This truly was ... (sigh!) ... love at first bite!

According to its website, TERRA Chips now come in over 30 varieties but, while their line of products seems to be readily available in hundreds of supermarkets, pharmacies, and health food stores across the United States, it is an odd rarity north of the border, where they are found only in gourmet food markets and in the specialty aisles of select supermarkets here in Toronto. Aside from the stark supply contrast that exists between the United States and Canada, there is also a noticeable price discrepancy that fuels an ongoing debate over cross-border shopping and makes me an avid proponent of it (perhaps something to keep in mind for a future blog posting).

For those residing in the downtown core of Toronto, you won't be able to find TERRA Chips in your local Sobeys, Metro, Rabba, or Longo's supermarkets (trust me—I've even tried different locations of the same store). However, for $6.39 (plus 13% tax), you can enjoy a 170-gram bag at Whole Foods Market in Yorkville (at present, available varieties include: Original, Mediterranean, Zesty Tomato, Sweet Potato, and Sweets and Beets). More recently, I discovered that you can indulge in exactly the same size and variety at Pusateri's for $7.99 but, if you can get yourself to a Loblaws (the closest one downtown is on Lower Jarvis at Queens Quay), that identical bag can be yours for just $4.99!

I'll have to do some research when I'm back in the States, but I have it on good authority that these chips sell for as little as $3.99 ($2.99 on special) at a neighbourhood Gristede's (NYC), though I'm curious to know if prices are consistent among other local retailers (The Food Emporium, Duane Reade, perhaps Dean & Deluca?). I also can't help but wonder how Canadian customs officials would react if they ever stumbled upon a carry-on luggage devoted solely to TERRA Chips while conducting a random baggage search—a humorous scenario if ever there was one ...

Sunday Brunch

Situated on the northwest corner of Portland and Adelaide Street West, Sadie's Diner and Juice Bar is an interesting local vegetarian/vegan eatery in downtown Toronto that features an extensive and reasonably priced all-day breakfast and drinks menu. Its down-to-earth atmosphere makes this a great place to meet up with friends for brunch and catch up over a generous serving of huevos rancheros ($10), buckwheat pancakes ($8.50), or scrambled tofu with veggie bacon or sausage ($7.50), but, sadly, this relaxed environment also translates into a very lazy and non-service-oriented kitchen and wait staff.

I decided to order a classic grilled cheese and tomato sandwich with salad ($6), along with a side dish of home-baked spinach and tofu samosas ($4). Taking my first bite out of the sandwich made me question whether or not it was, in fact, a cheese and tomato sandwich. Upon further inspection, and to my disappointment, I quickly discovered that the only ingredient between my otherwise decent-tasting sandwich was a layer of melted soy cheese between two buttered slices of Wonder whole-wheat bread. As for the samosas? Home-baked, perhaps, but then frozen and nuked in the microwave. Hmm ... a tad soggy and a very unappetizing appetizer.

After I inquired with wait staff about the grilled cheese and tomato-less sandwich, the server went to the kitchen and checked her notes, then returned to confirm that it was indeed a simple grilled cheese sandwich. I suppose I wasn't being all too explicit, however, when I followed up by indicating that it would still be nice to have some tomato prepared with this grilled cheese sandwich. Rather than apologizing and graciously offering to correct the order, the server then came back, somewhat flustered, and plopped down a side plate of two cold slices of tomato, perhaps thinking she was being generous by adding that she would only charge me for the grilled cheese sandwich ($5) and not for the two tomato slices. She then walked away. Lovely.

With so many fabulous brunch alternatives in the city, I can tell you now that I have no intention whatsoever of returning to this diner, nor will I be recommending this joint to family, friends, or colleagues. Instead, I'd be inclined to do them a favour by warning them against this establishment and offering up helpful alternatives. Trust me—you'd be better off taking your appetite and business elsewhere. Sadie's Diner no more.

Sadie's Diner and Juice Bar is located at: 504 Adelaide Street West (Portland Street)

The Fashionista in All of Us

A shopping excursion earlier this month at Toronto's flagship Holt Renfrew department store reminded me of Émile Zola's Au Bonheur des Dames, for which I wrote a dissertation in one of my French literature classes oh-so-long ago. It got me thinking about consumer culture and how, despite changes that have taken place over the years, certain social norms have remained fairly constant in the course of the past couple of centuries.

The advent of the department store marked an innovative development in the retail industry in 19th-century France, but also in other parts of the world: England had its Harrods (1834); Hong Kong, its Lane Crawford (1850); France, its Galeries Lafayette (1893); the United States, its Saks Fifth Avenue (1898); and Canada, its Holt Renfrew, whose origins date back to 1837—three decades prior to Confederation, interestingly enough.

Since then, there's been a rising trend towards the independent boutiques (along Toronto's Queen Street West and in Manhattan's SoHo district, for instance), but the high-end department store is of historic and social significance because of the way it has revolutionized consumer culture around the world. It continues to symbolize what Zola quite accurately described at the time as a shopper's paradise (consider the convenience of having all your favourite boutiques housed in one architecturally stunning building), and it's perhaps for this very reason that I often regard shopping as not just a leisure activity, but also a cherished experience for the fashionista in all of us.

A Word About ... Obnoxious Audience Members

Over the last two decades, I've attended enough shows—be they musicals, comedies, concerts, ballets, or operas—to realize that one is bound to encounter the occasional annoyances caused by ignorant, ill-mannered audience members: the disruptive group of teenagers who insist on carrying on a very audible conversation throughout the course of a play; the boorish clod who intentionally neglects to turn off his cell phone so that he can continue to receive unimportant calls and chat away in the middle of a jazz number (until a disgruntled neighbour turns around and tells him to shush, that is); or the big-haired woman seated in front of you who has her BlackBerry in the palm of her hand and allows the light from the screen to illuminate an otherwise dark theatre at five-minute intervals during a three-hour performance.

Nevertheless, those unpleasant incidents aren't what this blog post is about. No. This post is dedicated to that utterly obnoxious woman who was standing—not seated—two rows diagonal from me in orchestra centre of a recent Toronto performance of Rock of Ages. So, no, this post isn't even about a review of the musical. This is about that woman who, throughout nearly the entire duration of the show, chose to stand two metres from the stage and gyrate to the tunes of 80s rock music, perhaps reminiscing about her lost adolescent years or trying to relive her teenage fantasies as a rock star.

Forgive me if I come across as harsh with what I'm about to write here, but neither I nor the others seated around me went to this performance so that we could witness some buffoon make a fool of herself in front of a thousand other patrons at the Royal Alex. Not only were her wide hip twirls and dramatic arm-flinging off-putting to all those in proximity, but her provocative dance moves were a huge distraction to the cast members whose appalled (read: disgusted) facial expressions were clearly visible from where I was seated in the fourth row. To make matters worse, the woman motioned for her girlfriend to get up and dance with her each time she stood up, but thank goodness her friend had the good sense to shake her head (in mortification, no doubt).

As with certain other musicals where it's perfectly normal to want to sway in your seats and clap your hands in sync with the rhythm and beats of the music, I had no qualms with her overzealousness for the musical; what I—along with others both in the audience and on stage—found repulsive and distasteful was her unsolicited, attention-seeking participation in the performance and her disregard for the cast and other audience members. Perhaps she'd have been better off signing up as a contestant on So You Think You Can Dance but, as far as the rest of us were concerned, any entertainment value that she was hoping to contribute to that evening's musical performance was neither welcomed nor appreciated.

Senses

At times, it's hard to imagine that it's been a little over seven years since I moved (back) to Toronto—a city whose ethnic and cultural diversity is reflected in its various world cuisines and one that easily allows you to be transported from the vibrant, bustling streets of Chinatown and the sidewalk cafés of Little Italy ... to the dazzling array of festivals in Greektown and the fragrant spice markets in Little India. I've now spent half of those years in the Entertainment District—a neighbourhood that, apart from its live theatres and performing arts centres, is recognized for some of the best fine dining establishments in the city.

One of these establishments can be found on the ground level of the SoHo Met, a luxury boutique hotel located just up the street from my condo that houses the upscale Senses Bakery and Restaurant. On multiple occasions, I've no doubt indulged in the bakery's mango lime cheesecake, "Raspberry Symphony," white-chocolate cheesecake, or "Tuscany" dessert, but only recently did I have the opportunity to sample the restaurant's dinner menu featuring Chef Patrick Lin's signature Asian-fushion dishes.

While service was cordial (though nothing exceptional), the food was exquisite both in taste and presentation. Appreciating how unfortunate it would be to forego dessert while dining at Senses, I decided to bypass the selection of appetizers (nothing on the list having particularly appealed to my senses) and wasted no time ordering the sea bass, followed by a quartet of crème brûlée.

The main course took an unusually long time to arrive (45 minutes, despite there being at the time only two other tables of seated guests in the dining area), but it did prove to be worth the wait, especially when there was duck confit to accompany the bread basket. Fresh, moist, and tender, the filet of sea bass was baked to mouth-watering perfection and served over a bed of wasabi-flavoured risotto—a nice Japanese-inspired twist to an otherwise ordinary side dish. Dessert, too, was a creative rendition of a European classic: four mini ramekins of scrumptious vanilla, mocha, ginger, and chocolate crème brûlée—a delicious end to a superb dining experience.

Senses Restaurant is located in the SoHo Metropolitan Hotel at: 328 Wellington Street West (Blue Jays Way)

Sin City

"Whoever said money can't buy happiness doesn't know where to shop." Perhaps this explains why you will see no shortage of happy people in Sin City. Those who are familiar with Las Vegas know that, despite its notoriety for adult entertainment and gambling, it is a city that is internationally renowned for its shopping and fine dining—a reason for which, to date, I have flown into McCarran International Airport (LAS) a total of 10 times, seven of which took place in 2008 alone.

When I'm asked what the appeal of Las Vegas is to me, my response is two-fold. The stretch of Las Vegas Boulevard known as the Strip is not only: (1) a shopper's paradise, but also (2) home to seven (eight, if you count Dragone's Le Rêve under the same umbrella) Cirque du Soleil venues. Factor into the equation the dry heat—in contrast to Toronto's cold and damp winters—and the Strip's proximity to the airport, and it becomes apparent as to why Las Vegas makes an ideal weekend getaway for the vitamin D-deficient.

My eyes light up like a little girl in a candy shop whenever I walk though the doors of The Forum Shops at Caesars or the myriad high-end boutiques at Bellagio and The Palazzo—and it's not so much the shopping as it is the atmosphere in which I find myself immersed that is both seductive and contagious. People here are happy, due in large part to the fact that it is a city of tourists—not just bachelors and bachelorettes, but also families, retirees, and couples—and when shops like Jean-Philippe Pâtisserie and the recently opened Max Brenner entice visitors with their sweets and chocolate (by the Bald Man), indulgence becomes a habit, harder each time to resist.

With more than half of its permanent shows situated in Las Vegas, Cirque du Soleil has left an indelible presence on both sides of the Strip and is one of the driving forces behind the city's economic viability. I've been an ardent fan of this Québec-based company since I was an undergrad who spent her summers in Montréal, Trois-Rivières, and Québec City, and I make it a point to follow its touring shows in whichever city I happen to be. It's one of the reasons that has drawn me to Las Vegas in the past, and I can undoubtedly tell you that there will be several more visits to this city that is so aptly referred to as the entertainment capital of the world. Viva Las Vegas.