Vegetarian

A salad worthy of an impressionist painting!

Diane

My turn to choose the theme! Since I’m always on the look out for healthy alternatives to meat-based meals, I picked Vegetarian.

We are packing more into our Epitourist get-togethers. Our lunch was preceded by a day of foodie excursions to Aloette and Eataly. Sunday’s courses felt relaxed and restorative in contrast to the previous day’s pace.

When Diet for a Small Planet was published in 1971 it was a radical book that chronicled the harmful environmental impacts of meat production and its compounding effects on food distribution across the globe. Today the trend toward plant-based diets is also supported by people with concerns for the ethical treatment of animals and those who want to improve their own personal health. Change often takes time. When Canada revamped the Food Guide in 2019, the government still faced a strong lobby from meat and dairy interests threatened by the move away from animal proteins.

Today there are so many cookbooks and advocates for plant-based meals it’s hard to choose a definitive source: Michael Pollan, Jamie Oliver, Dr. Michael Greger, Angela Liddon… the list continues to grow.

Our own Epitourist menu was a wonderful mix of colour, comfort, simplicity and elegance. Didn’t miss the meat whatsoever!

Menu

Starter | Laura

Muhammara roasted red pepper dip with focaccia and goat chevre 

paired with Prosecco

Salad Course | Kaarina

Five-Spice Peach and Raspberry Salad

paired with Riesling

Main | Diane

Russian Carrot Pie  

paired with Golden Milk

Main | Caro

Steamed celeriac and mushroom pudding with Madeira sauce

paired with Madeira

Dessert | Laura

Lemon Pudding Cake

Digestif | Diane

Pousse-Café / selection of  liqueurs

Muhammara roasted red pepper dip ❦ Laura

Syrian Muhammara Dip

I was last to announce what I would make for our vegetarian feast. As often happens at these long lunches, we get so enthusiastic about what we want to make that we end up with way too much food. The others had already proposed hearty courses, so I thought an appetizer dip would be fitting. But I didn’t want to make a run-of-the mill hummus or cream-cheese based dip. Ottolenghi never fails to offer interesting flavour combinations. I chose his Muhammara/roasted red pepper dip. Muhammara dip comes from Syrian cuisine. I loved the idea of combining red peppers with pomegranate molasses, walnuts, and aleppo pepper. Diane has gas burners, so charring the peppers was easy on her stovetop. The resulting dip was spectacular. We served it with some foccacia and flatbread crackers purchased during our Eataly outing. 

Five-Spice Peach and Raspberry Salad ❦ Kaarina

A true chef d'œuvre!

Thinking outside the pot, I looked for fresh raw colour and bite to add to our menu. I didn’t need to look far. If anyone knows how to pull together a great vegetarian spread, it’s Ottolenghi and I had been reading and cooking from both Jerusalem and Simple this winter. I settled on Five-Spice Peach and Raspberry Salad from Simple:

In a large bowl, whisk together

1-1/2 tbsp. cider vinegar

1 tsp maple syrup

1/4 tsp Chinese 5-spice powder

1 tbsp olive oil

1 shallot, thinly sliced (1/4 cup)

1/4 tsp salt

Just before serving, add

3-1/2 oz raspberries

3 firm peaches, not too ripe, cut into 1/4 inch wedges

2 cups watercress

2 cups radicchio, cut into 3/4 inch slices.

Toss and serve.

What made this salad visually extra spectacular was the rosy radicchio we found in the produce section at Eataly, which was on our Epitourist winter tour of downtown Toronto the day before. The rosy leaves were so beautiful I couldn’t bring myself to tear them, so I tucked them in whole amongst the watercres and peaches. This loose leaf radicchio is less bitter than the tightly packed leaves of a standard radicchio but the watercress along with the shallot had enough bite to balance the sweetness of the fruit.

Wine can be a challenge with salads. What to pair? The peach? The bitter greens? Or the sherry vinegar dressing? Cave Springs off dry Riesling did the job brilliantly.. 

Russian Carrot Pie ❦ Diane

A very creative pairing!

Oh how I loved Molly Katzen’s Enchanted Broccoli Forest cookbook! Hand written, with simple instructions and whimsical illustrations, it inspired me to make some of my first vegetarian meals. Published in 1974, it may be dated when compared with some of today’s titles, but it still brings a smile to my face. I thought the Epitourists would enjoy Russian Carrot Pie, and they did, although next time, I would cut back a bit on the dill.

Delightful!

For this course, instead of pairing with wine I chose a concoction of coconut milk, oat milk, turmeric, ginger and cinnamon. The decision to serve Golden Milk was made on colour alone, but happily the taste nicely complemented the flavours in the pie.

Steamed celeriac and mushroom pudding with Madeira sauce  

❦ Caroline

Savoury Pudding!

  
I turned to Dani Valent’s In the Mix — Great Thermomix Recipes for Diane’s vegetarian theme. Australian based cook, Valent sourced recipes from chefs and bloggers far and wide to put together this beautiful cookbook. Steamed Celeriac and Mushroom Puddings, is British chef Madalene Bonvini-Hamel’s creation. Completely vegetarian, it is elegant, comforting and deliciously savoury.
 
Filling

50 g butter
70 g mushrooms
salt and pepper to taste
20 g flour
1/2 onion, peeled and diced
1 clove of garlic
1/2 stalk of celery, cut into 1 cm dice
1 small carrot, peeled and coarsely grated
250 g celeriac cut into 1 cm dice
30 g Madeira
150 g vegetable stock
1 tbs chopped parsley
1 tbs chopped chives

Melt 25 g butter in a frying pan. Cook mushrooms with a little salt and pepper for 8 minutes at medium-high temperature. Set aside. Melt remaining butter, add onion, garlic, celery, carrot, celeriac and flour. Cook 10 minutes on medium-high until nicely caramelized. Add the Madeira. Cook for 4 minutes. Add the stock and cook on medium heat to reduce for 5 minutes. Return the mushrooms. Stir in parsley and chives. Adjust seasoning. Allow to cool on a cookie sheet.

Pastry

300 g flour
15 g baking powder
150 g frozen butter
salt and pepper to taste
100 g chilled water

Mix flour, baking powder, butter, salt and pepper. Add the chilled water. Gently knead. Lightly oil 6 ramekins. On a slightly floured surface, roll the pastry to about 4 mm thick. Line the ramekins with the pastry. Spoon the cooled celeriac filling into each ramekin, filling it to the top, dampen pastry rim with cold water and seal each pudding with a pastry lid. Make a team hole in the centre of the lid. Pour 1 litre of water into a pot. Set steaming basket in. Place the pudding ramekins on basket. Cook for 60 minutes on medium-high. Make sure that there’s sufficient water at all times. Keep a kettle of boiling water handy to top up.

Madeira Sauce

50 g dried mushrooms
30 g olive oil
1 sprig of thyme, leaves only
1 bay leaf
1 clove garlic
1 shallot
100 g madeira
500 g vegetable stock
100 g 35% cream
50 g butter

Pulverize the dried mushroom in a food processor. Add the olive oil, thyme, garlic and onion and chop. Transfer the mixture to a frying pan. Add bay leaf and cook on medium-high for 5 minutes. Add the Madeira and cook for 3 minutes. Add vegetable stock and continue to cook until stock has reduced by half. Strain the sauce through a fine sieve. Discard solids. Pour sauce into saucepan along with cream. Heat for 3 minute until it just begins to boil. Taste and adjust seasoning. Before serving, add the butter and whisk.


Lemon Souffle Pudding ❦ Laura

Because I can never resist making something as a sweet end to the meal, I chose to make a simple lemon souffle pudding. This is an old family recipe from the mother of Jason, my neighbour on Wolfe Island. He always makes it for impromptu neighbourhood potluck get togethers.

Digestif ❦ Diane

Lovely colours of a pousse-café

I came across Pousse-café when I was searching for a digestif to finish our meal. Literally "coffee-pusher" in French, it is an alcoholic beverage consumed after the coffee course. Pousse-café has now evolved to mean a layered drink composed of different  liqueurs.

I thought this would be a fun twist and an appropriate reminder that although people sometimes equate vegetarian with healthy and virtuous, it’s not always the case.

Besides, I have a cupboard full of different liqueurs to experiment. The heaviest liqueur is poured first on the bottom, and so on. We had the most success with a trio of grenadine, chartreuse and then Cointreau. Use a bar spoon and steady hand to pour the liqueur. Choose liqueurs that are actually palatable if you intend to drink your creation.

Salt Fat Acid Heat | Four Elements | Four Epitourists

Mastering the elements of good cooking!

This is not "your typical cookbook". Colourful charts and whimsical illustrations (rather than photographs to free the reader from the idea that there's only one perfect image for every dish!). The hows and whys content truly reflect Samin's energetic and creative self!

Menu

Pasta alla Puttanesca

Salad of Roasted Beet, Preserved Lemon and Tahini-Yogurt
—with Smoked Mackerel

Maiale al Latte with Roasted Squash, Sage and Hazelnut Panzanella

Amalfi Lemon Tart

Theme cocktail: Caesars!

The four elements celebrated!

Kaarina | SALT

Samin's Pasta alla Puttanesca

I settled on Samin’s own recipe for Pasta alla Puttanesca to showcase layering of salt in a dish. This Italian classic features salt in several guises — anchovies, capers, olives and (optional) parmigiana — each delicious in small doses. All together, all at once, they make a big statement. Huge umami delicious, salty statement.

Having spent the last 30 years searching for ways to reduce my salt intake, drawing Salt as my assignment was a challenge. Yes, of course I agree that salt is essential in good cooking, the basic seasoning for pretty much everything. But little goes a long way. I experimented for a month, following Samin’s directions but never quite got the knack of it. I found her approach with salt way too heavy handed and will return to using the salt grinder, shaker and a measuring spoon.

There’s nothing subtle about Pasta alla Puttanesca, so a bold wine is in order. California’s Seven Deadly Zins was up to the task. A rustic Primotivo from Puglia would be equally appropriate.

California's Seven Deadly Zins Old Vine Zinfandel!

Caroline | ACID

"Acid is salt's alter ego. While salt enhances flavours, acid balances them." 

Roasted beets with preserved lemon and tahini-yogurt from our beloved Ottolenghi's Simple (and he's on my menu two nights this week)! The preserved lemon and tahini-yogurt blanket the roasted beets with layers of acidity. As per the chef's recommendation, I serve this with a smoked mackerel. Wine pairings are Sancerre -- Henri Bourgeois Les Baronnes and a Mailly Exception Blanche Grand Cru Brut Champagne 2007! After all, Christmas is just around the corner. The acid component of the salad pair well with the Sancerre and highlight the wines butteriness. The Champagne takes the smoked mackerel to heaven! Interesting exercise in pairing.

Roasted beets with preserved lemon and tahini-yogurt

Diane

Michael Pollan, one of my favourite food writers, wrote the introduction to the book Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, and revealed Samin gave him some cooking lessons after she attended his class on food writing. His observations on sauteing an onion: "...there was an intricate evolution unfolding in that pan as the rectangles of onion went from crisply acidic to clean and sweet to faintly smokey as they caramelized and then bittered slightly as they browned. Samin showed me how half a dozen distinct flavours could be teased from that humble ingredient, all depending on how you managed principle number four, heat."  

That insight motivated me to buy a copy of Samin's book and choose the element of Heat for the Epitourist feast. 

At the end of every one of her Heat classes, Samin shares a finished braise with her students. The book dedicates more than a few pages on classic braises and stews from around the world, however the dish I ended up preparing was a braise of pork in milk: Maiale al Latte, as it seemed we were trending to Italian flavours. Slow cooked over two and a half hours, the aromas wafting from the oven created a wonderful background to festivities.

Maiale al Latte!

Laura

I really enjoyed this month’s theme, which diverted from our usual focus on regional cuisine. All four of us really enjoyed Samin Nostrat’s Netflix series and wanted to delve more into the themes and recipes.

I was tasked with exploring fat. In her book, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat Samin writes, “Fat adds its own unique flavor to a dish, and it can amplify the other flavors in a recipe. Simply put, fat makes food delicious—and one of the most important things any cook can learn is how to harness its magic.” I wanted to explore this idea by detouring from the obvious meat fat. I chose to make a salad and focus on using butter instead of oil in the dressing.  I wanted to make a hearty salad that would reflect the season as well as working well as a side dish, so I chose her Roasted Squash, Sage and Hazelnut Panzanella. Browning the butter adds another element to the flavour of the fat, and it stands up well to the bold flavours in the salad. The recipe for the croutons and vinaigrette is here https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ottawa/warm-winter-panzanella-d-is-for-dinner-1.4983972. You’ll have to borrow or buy the book for the rest of the recipe. Failing that, just roast squash in the oven, sauté chopped kale in olive oil with some onion and garlic, toast some chopped hazelnuts and fry some sage leaves. Then put the salad together using the method in the link above.

Roasted Squash, Sage and Hazelnut Panzanella

Caroline

As this was a sleepover dinner, dessert was in order. I stick to my assigned element and opt for an Amalfi Lemon Tart from Oliver's Jamie Cooks Italy. The crust calls for 1/3 cup of Greco di Tufo white wine. It is a new wine for us. And as Jamie suggests: "If you're feeling the Italian vibe, a little slice for breakfast with a black coffee is a real treat." And so, the next day for breakfast, a little tart was enjoyed with an expresso and a tasting of the Greco di Tufo.

Andalusian Discoveries

Plaza Rib Rambla, medieval Granada'a main square

Kaarina 

Mike and I were sipping a glass of Rioja at an outdoor cafe across from our hotel in Granada’s ancient Plaza Bib Rambla when our waitress surprised us, placing a slate of mysterious golden fritters on our table. We hadn’t ordered food but tucked right in, happy that we had stumbled on a traditional taverna like El Laurel, which still serves a complimentary tapa with a drink, a custom that is quickly vanishing across much of Spain. That night was our introduction to Berenjenas con Miel Cana — an Andalusian specialty that has its roots in southern Spain’s 700-year Moorish history. Deep fried aubergine, crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside and drizzled with a dark brown cane honey. Eggplant has never tasted so good. From the first bite it was clear that this was going home with me to our next Epitourist lunch.

Deep fried eggplant drizzled with cane honey

Before I left on my October tour of Spain’s major Moorish sights, the Epitourists had agreed that we would cook an Andalusian feast on my return. So I was on a mission to find dishes I had never tried before but could take home and cook in my own kitchen.

Ronda - Puente Nuevo was built almost 300 years ago

I found the second dish for our menu in Ronda, the stunningly beautiful Andalusian White Hill Town that straddles a deep 390-foot gorge. Restaurante Las Maravillas’ tapas menu translated Carrillada as “braised pork cheeks.” Who knew the tenderest, tastiest cut from a pig fits into the palm of your hand? I pledged, on my return to find pork cheeks (aka jowls) in Toronto. (Order ahead from Sanagan’s Meat Locker / in Kensington Market.) I used a Nigel Slater’s Pigs Cheek recipe from the Guardian  with good success.

Pork cheeks and company!

Meanwhile, my Epitourist mates were researching Andalusian cooking online. Diane found a stew using spinach and chickpeas, ingredients that — like aubergines — were brought to Spain by the Moors. She mentioned the dish in an email, and that evening I spied Espinacas con Garbanzos on the menu at what had already become our favourite tapas bar in Sevilla: Las Teresas, a three-minute stroll from our hotel through narrow “kissing streets” of medieval Barrio Santa Cruz. 

Sevilla's Kissing Street and Las Teresas

Las Teresas’ Espinacas con Garbanzos was quite good, of course, but paled in comparison to the delightful dish Diane meticulously constructed in my kitchen in Toronto and served promptly as soon as the spinach was cooked.

Diane's Espinacas con Garbanzos

Diane

My research led me to the Hola Foodie site and a dish described as ‘bueno, bonito y barato’, which translates into ‘good, beautiful and cheap.’ Like many other peasant recipes from southern Spain, chickpeas and spinach are a fine example of how to make the most of simple and humble ingredients. Andalusian Chickpeas and Spinach somewhat surprised me as I don't quickly connect southern Spain with either of the main ingredients. Plain food, but so delicious when seasoned with the cumin, garlic, smoked paprika and cayenne pepper. The recipe noted frozen spinach was acceptable, but fresh was definitely more appealing.

Literary Spring

Of course the Epitourists love to eat, but we also love to read. May’s gathering on Wolfe Island was a melding of food and literature welcoming the green of spring.

Menu

Spring Soufflé with Creamy Mixed-Cheese Sauce

2016 Alsace Pinot Blanc L'ami des crustacés classique

Kaarina's Sprout Salad and Elizabeth on the 37th Crab Cakes

Kunde Chardonnay from Sonoma County

Rhubarb Spritz

Chinese Pork and Shrimp Dumplings with Scallion-Soy Sauce

Madeleines



Caroline

The bones of my dish came form Jamie Cooks Italy / Spring Soufflé with Creamy Mixed-Cheese Sauce. I struggled with which spring vegetables to use. His recipe includes asparagus, peas, mint and sadly, zucchini. At my first attempt, I included the zucchini and found that it made things watery (besides, save the zuke for fall!). I excluded it the second time around. I must admit that Oliver’s spring trio of choice makes for a lovely mix: asparagus, peas and mint. But when Emilio-the-forager handed me a kilo of freshly picked fiddleheads, things changed again. Would a trio of fiddleheads, peas and mint work? No doubt it would.

We wait for them with excitement: Ontario grown asparagus! Upon seeing my first bunches “…tinged with ultramarine and pink, finely stippled in mauve and azure…”, I couldn’t resist: asparagus, fiddleheads and spring onions it would be. Forget the peas. And without peas, what’s the point of mint?

We wait for them with excitement:
Ontario grown asparagus

What makes this soufflé SO delicious is the sauce served on the side for pouring over. I chose whole goat’s milk, parmigiano reggiano and taleggio cheese to make mine. Divine! I paired my dish with a Pinot Blanc 2016 from Alsace: L’ami des crustacés classique.



Le soufflé et sa sauce!

 “…but what most enraptured me were the asparagus, tinged with ultramarine and pink which shaded off from their heads, finely stippled in mauve and azure, through a series of imperceptible gradations to their white feet–still stained a little by the soil of their garden-bed–with an iridescence that was not of this world. I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form and who, through the disguise of their firm comestible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn, these hinted rainbows, these blue evening shades, that precious quality which I should recognise again when all night long after a dinner at which I had partaken of them, they played (lyrical and coarse in their jesting as the fairies in Shakespeare’s Dream) at transforming my chamber pot into a vase of aromatic perfume.” — Marcel Proust In Search of Lost Time: Swann’s Way

My Spring Soufflé with Creamy Mixed-Cheese Sauce



3 spring onions

3 tbs olive oil

250 g asparagus

250 g fiddleheads

6 tbs pinot blanc

6 large eggs



Sauce

1 1/2 tbs unsalted butter

3 tbs all-purpose flour

2 cups whole goat’s milk

100 g parmesan cheese

freshly grated nutmeg

100 g Taleggio cheese



Preheat oven  to 350 F. Finely chop the onions and asparagus. Place in a large frying pan on medium-high heat with 2 tablespoons of oil. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the wine. Cook for 5 minutes.

 For the sauce, melt the butter in a sauce pan on medium heat. Stir in the flour until combined, then gradually whisk in the milk until smooth. Simmer for 5 minutes. Finely grate in 75 g of the Parmesan, nutmeg and Taleggio. Season to taste. Pour half the sauce in with the vegetables and mix, then leave to cool to room temperature. Put the remaining sauce aside for now. 

Separate the eggs, stirring the yolks into the vegetable mixture. Beat the whites until stiff then fold through the vegetable mix. Generously butter 4 ramekins and divide soufflé mix. Garnish with blanched asparagus spears and one fiddlehead. Sprinkle with the remaining 25 g of parmesan. Bake 25 minutes or until golden and puffed up. Warm the remaining cheese sauce and serve on the side for pouring over.

Kaarina



The Book Of Negroes by Lawrence Hill inspired my crab cakes. Sam Fraunce prepared them for Aminata when she arrived in Manhattan on the first leg of her journey to freedom.

"He said the way to make a decent crab cake was to roll just a touch of bread crumbs, melted butter and cream into the crab meat. It was so good that you wanted to treat it tenderly.
 (...) 'Crab is not something to overpower with energetic spicing,' he said. 'Crabmeat wants to melt quietly on the tongue.' "

I’ve never forgotten that advice.
 I rejected dozens of crab cake recipes trying to find one that met Sam’s exacting standard. My crab cake recipe is based on one from a Savannah, GA restaurant — Elizabeth’s on 37th.

The challenge is keeping the crab cakes from falling apart. I can never do it. Now I just push them back together to reshape and serve. I’d rather preserve the taste and texture than the shape.



In a salute to Wolfe Island spring, we picked dandelions from Laura’s Back 40, where just that morning I spied four deer grazing on the dew-kissed grass. The dandelion leaves added a bitter kick to the sprout salad accompaniment to the crab cakes.



The dandelion leaves added a bitter kick to the sprout salad

Kaarina's Sprout Salad

1 tsp garlic finely chopped

1 tsp fresh tarragon finely chopped

1 tsp honey

3-4 tbsp champagne vinegar

1⁄3 cup (125 mL) canola oil

Salt and pepper to taste
3-4 cups of sprouts (such as pea and radish) and bitter greens (arugula, dandelions, escarole, watercress

3 green onions, thinly sliced

A dozen violas for garnish (optional)



MEASURE the first  6 ingredients into a small jar and shake hard to emulsify (or use a blender). Toss with greens.



A lightly oaked or unoaked Chardonnay, such as the Kunde from Sonoma County, pairs well with the crab cakes. And a rhubarb Spritz is just the ticket if lunch runs into cocktail hour!



Rhubarb Spritz

 (from our very own mixologist, K)

1 tbsp rhubarb compote

1 oz Hendricks gin

2-3 oz Prosecco

In a champagne glass, stir rhubarb compote and gin. Add 3-4 ice cubes. Top with Prosecco. Stir.

Rhubarb Spritz

Laura

“Back home, I told the cook girl to boil enough pots of water and to chop enough pork and vegetables to make a thousand dumplings, both steamed and boiled, with plenty of fresh ginger, good soy sauce, and sweet vinegar for dipping.” – The Kitchen God’s Wife, Amy Tan

I love dumplings! They’re easy to make but time-consuming. The filling and pleating is relaxing when you have a chunk of time to devote to the process.

Dumplings and Scallion-Soy Sauce

And no literary feast is complete without a nod to Proust’s madeleines.

A perfect end with madeleines!

Epi T.O.: A Two Day Epitour

It was time for a road trip to shake off the lingering cabin fever plaguing us after a long brutal winter. Last spring we sampled the delights of Montréal. This year we decided on a two-day "epitour" of Toronto, which is quickly catching up to the City of Saints when it comes to all things food. 

We met at St. Lawrence Market, treating ourselves to the antipasti bar at Scheffler’s Deli, an institution at the market since 1955, before heading to Liberty Village for the first of two bakeries on our list.

In the following posts, Laura reports on the bakeries, Diane savours the cocktail choices at Drake Hotel, Kaarina reviews dinner at Laissez Faire, a new King St. W. restaurant, and Caroline takes us on a romp through the Assembly Chef's Hall, a Richmond St. “food court” with a difference.

Cocktails at the Drake Hotel

Diane

Cheers!

Late afternoon sunshine played through windows at the Drake Hotel as we eased ourselves into the banquette. The ambience was understated and not contrived, with lots of wood and burnished surfaces.  Music was playing at a level that respected comfortable conversation between friends.

The venue first opened in 1890 as Small's Hotel, near what was then one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in the city. The bar has seen many changes over the last century and a half, and is enjoying a revival as a boutique hotel, concert venue, art space, and restaurant.

Gord Hannah is the head bartender and chief cocktail ambassador at the Drake. In a recent interview, he says "As a hotel bar, we have always had a strong affinity to the classic cocktails that form the basis of bar programs for 200 years. We are also a music venue, art gallery and restaurant, so our team always tries to stay current with global offerings and new cocktail trends. Stevie Wonder will always be on a playlist for a DJ, but to stay current, you also have to offer the newest underground artist. Our bar team does the same – a well made old fashioned will always be a crowd pleaser, but our new version of the Tequila Sunrise will open up your eyes to new things.

One of the nice things about going out with the Epitourists is that none of us mind sharing our drinks, so we were all able to sample some of the concoctions devised by Drake's own bartenders.

None of us mind sharing our drinks...

  

Caroline had a Martini huile d'olive, with three small drops of olive oil shimmering on the surface that floated together. The basil infusion ended up being good to the last drop. 

Laura's  brown-butter-maple Old Fashioned was a nice twist on a classic as well, mixing sour and sweet with a bit of a tang. 

I ordered a sour sipper dubbed la Bohème, which was a mix of tequila, Campari, absinthe, charred pineapple, sage, and lime. The pale grapefruit colour was a nice surprise when it arrived at the table.

Kaarina enjoyed a bubbly Cava, effervescent with tiny bubbles.

I'm marking my calendar now for the Toronto Cocktail Conference, which takes over The Drake Hotel from August 13 to 15 this coming summer.

The Drake Hotel, a great place for a cocktail!

Laid Back On King Street

Kaarina

Our Epitourist foursome was looking forward to dinner at Laissez Faire, a new King St. West restaurant, as the highlight of our two-day foodie tour of Toronto. We thought laissez faire an appealing concept for a restaurant and were quite excited, looking forward to expertly prepared, French-inspired cuisine served in a casual atmosphere. What we found was that the two - laissez faire and fine dining - don’t necessarily mix all that well. The problem is that by its definition - “let it be,” “leave it alone” - laissez faire is an attitude that spreads all too easily, and in a small open space it’s a short trip to the kitchen.

Is stylishly hip good enough?

We were there on a Tuesday, so likely the kitchen A Team had the night off. There was no sign of Michelin-trained owner/chef Zachary Barnes - not surprising since the place is open every night for dinner. His credentials (Barne’s CV includes Toronto’s top-rated Alo, UK’s Restaurant Gordon Ramsay and New York’s Daniel) had built up grand expectations for us. Those expectations were amply met by a finely-wrought menu, if not its actual execution that night. Cool, laid-back bartenders are at the centre of the operation. One meets you, seats you, pours cocktails, wine and beer from a long and well-stocked bar that runs a good third of the length of the stylish narrow room with an open kitchen at the far end. Brisk and efficient, he takes your order and jockeys the food from the kitchen to the table, where you are perched on less than comfy high stools.

From the menu, we started with a winner: A smooth and creamy burrata, oozing with buttery satisfaction, served on a bed of bitter greens and poached fruit along with triangles of toast to smear it on.

Smooth and creamy burrata

Although the porcini truffle arancini trio should be easy enough to share four ways, the very, tiny risotto balls had us beg for a fourth so that we could each enjoy. The wait staff graciously obliged!

Arancini trio

The crispy pork belly with a sherry gastrique and pomegranate seed and parsley garnish was perfection and shared between four, a guilt-free indulgence.

Pork belly, a guilt-free indulgence

The roasted cauliflower visuals were fantastic: the romenesco sauce an artful swirl of carmine beside the cauliflower. That we could agree on. The taste, not so much. The unfamiliar herb flavours delighted some and alienated others, as did the char on top of the overcooked cauliflower.

The roasted cauliflower visuals were fantastic

The whole grilled sea bream, although slightly overcooked, had a lovely crisp skin and the grilling imparted a smoky flavour to the mild fish served with classic lemon and dill garnish.

Grilled sea bream

A shared brioche panna cotta with a pretty apricot compote made for a light sweet finish.

Nicely presented panna cotta

A creative menu, easily shared plates, good value, crisp service, hip decor all should add up to a return visit when chef Barnes is in house, perhaps even a splurge at the chef’s rail overlooking the open kitchen, where a tasting menu is offered Thursday to Sunday. But we will not be giving Laissez Faire a second chance. And that’s because the music is played at a mind-numbing, ear-splitting volume better suited to a night club than the dinner hour, making any effort at normal conversation impossible. When we asked for the volume to be turned down, the response was not surprisingly laissez faire - they left it alone. And so will we.

 Laissez Faire, 589 King St. West