happy days #5

With a serious hankering for some good ol' comfort food - it's been getting really chilly these last few days - we strolled on down to Manpuku...it rocks.

On the way, checking out the new addition to the AGO.



I like that the new restaurant inside is named Frank, for the architect and the style of food...clever.

More inspirational/quizzical building watching. I've heard tell that some think the OCAD addition looks like "a dalmation with a hard on"...wish I had snapped the giant red elevator shaft entering the top left side.

Anyhoo, time to check out the menu. We're hemming and hawing over whether to get the shigure don, the curry don (beef, pork, or veggie? It's all so good!)...

No hesitation here; having the takoyaki is a must.

One of the great things about this gem other than that it's clean and cozy and has really nice staff, is that the menu is pretty basic. I mean this in a really good way; there's nothing too elaborate or showy, and contains nothing that you wouldn't wish you could make at home for yourself for a comforting lunch or small dinner. It's all solid, simple, well seasoned, properly done food, which I can't stop gushing about whenever I'm lucky enough to find a great place that does it up right!

I'm probably not doing this much justice, so feel free to check out the actual menu here:

In the end, we ended up sharing...

Pork curry don: thinly shaved tender pork over an addictive mild, slightly sweet curry with some nice potato chunkage, over steamed rice.

Gotta have the togarashi.

Shigure don: I don't know a ton about the cut of beef used, but let me just say that it's tender and juicy, with a nice sweetness from the onion. Definitely one of my faves.

And then came the takoyaki! The server/part owner, I believe, let us know that these are made to order and so would take about ten minutes...and so worth the wait.

These awesome, tender nuggets are made from a batter poured into special cast iron takoyaki pans...

...and contain little morsels of octopus. So good.

On top, loop de loops of mayo, homemade takoyaki sauce, toasted seaweed and bonito flakes. I would probably go back there right this minute just to have these, they're so addictive.


Thank you Manpuku for such a happy lunch.


Manpuku
105 McCaul Street
(inside Village by the Grange)
open for lunch and dinner, closed sundays

www.manpuku.ca

ladies who brunch

When the power of Facebook is used for the purposes of good (rather than evil, in the form of say, massive procrastination or album/wall post lurking), this is the kind of magic that you hope for.

I'd be hard pressed to imagine that our scrappy childhood group of best girlfriends, riding bikes into ravines and saving our allowances for hot lips from Macs Milk, would nearly two decades later be sitting in a lovely restaurant downtown, chatting about making each other mix tapes (in 1992, I might add) over a very grown up brunch.

For your Friend Finder button, Facebook, we salute you!

Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar was a great meeting spot, easy to get to for those coming in from out of town. We'd all tried meeting for a few casual dinners before, but have since decided that brunching, with all its Sunday lazy-day connotations, is definitely the way to go. (Carrie Bradshaw and the girls would be so proud!)

After hemming and hawing over the delicious sounding menu (your choice of not one, but two of the small sized mains for $20; decisions, decisions) we finally placed our orders and got down to the business at hand; catching up and good ol' fashioned girly gossip.

Pistachio Sticky Bun and Chocolate Brioche with House-Made Marmalade and Creme Fraiche: After

So I'm afraid that this picture doesn't do the warm butter-scented plate justice, basically because the cute sticky bun was so darned tasty that we all tore into it like the pastry savages we are. The rich muffin-sized, molten chocolate-filled brioche fared a similar fate, this time torn and smeared with zesty orange marmalade before scarfage.

Ham Ragout on Soft Polenta with Organic Egg

Of the five of us, four ordered this "eggs and ham" dish. For the first time since we sat down, it was at this point where nothing was heard save the satisfying sound of egg yolk poking (one of the best sensations ever, I think) and cutlery being used to shovel the salty pork and creamy pudding-like polenta into our faces.

Sheep's Milk Cheddar and Apple Sandwich on Raisin Bread

These came with spicy house made pickles. The apple and cheese sandwiches were done "en Carozza", or "in carriages", that is, dunked in beaten eggs and pan fried...like having raisin bread french toast and a grilled cheese sandwich at the same time! Totally genius.

Warm Tartelette with Smoked Cheddar, Roast Garlic and Cured Tomatoes

I didn't actually eat this one; all I know is that this smelled and looked like a heavenly little quiche. I swear I could hear the light flaky crunch of the tart as A cut in with her fork to reveal the soft, eggy innards.

We were definitely on a roll now, and we're not even talking about the food! We covered J's growing baby bump, names we liked (Madeleine, Audrey - of course) and those we were wary of (Joachim, Elody, anything that ends with an i), Earth Hour, plane crashes, our parent's old houses, muffin tops, A's dinner party that nearly ended with her bookshelves catching on fire, all in between bites of our lovely, mostly ladylike brunch.

Sheep's Milk Yoghurt with Preserved Fruit and Granola

One of my favorite things for breakfast is yogurt and granola. This version was super yummy because I'd never tried sheep's milk yogurt before. It's quite tangy and thick, which made it very easy to eat with the sweet poached pears and crunchy walnut granola. I think I could eat this every morning, actually.

Walnut and Raisin Bread Pudding with Chantilly Cream

Now this crazy little number was what put us over the edge. Mmm, bread pudding. There's nothing quite like a slab of dense, custardy, caramel soaked goodness to put you straight into a food coma. Good thing we had plenty of coffee and sparkling conversations about boob jobs and sports to keep things lively!

Thank you, lovely ladies for a great afternoon... until we brunch again!

Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar
9 Church Street
416 362 1957

Tasting China...

Joey: [to Ross] Forget about Rachel. Go to China, eat Chinese food.

Chandler: Of course there, they'd just call it food.

Honestly, that cracks me up every time. Because it’s true! It’s funny, I remember how strange it seemed the first time I realized that what we ate growing up wasn’t just "food". There I was at lunchtime, with my squat little thermos packed with the trinity of rice, bbq pork and bok choy. I’d peel the straw free from my white and blue Vitasoy tetrapak and sip slowly, distracted by the exotic presence of my seatmate’s bologna and mustard sandwich, followed, tasting course style, by celery sticks and peanut butter, and a little cup of chocolate pudding.

Cue Joy Luck Club theme song.

Well, I’m all over those jealous pangs now (except that time last week with the boy blatantly flaunting his grilled cheese while I inhaled my lonely bran muffin like a starved animal – or maybe that was just greed?). I’m loving that even with years of laborious training (weekly Chinatown runs for soy chicken and pea shoots, short dim sum circuits on weekends, marathon eight-course, extended family meals every few months) under my belt - literally - I am constantly reminded of just how new and exciting going out for a Chinese meal can be.

Even more exciting is being invited out to a late night feast at one of your favorite restaurants. With the series of dishes on offer personally ordered, in advance, by your generous and very particular chef. Oh, and have all the tables reserved for your private party. Which is made up entirely of cooks, ravenous after a night of service. Did I mention the two cases of beer?

Yowza, it’s a celebration!

Well, the gang’s pretty much all here…time for some serious chow.

First off, winter melon soup à la Fabergé, with lotus seeds, scallop and tender porky bits. Shiny...

The happy, and hefty, little number on the top: braised scallop and black moss on top of snow pea shoots. It looks intimidating, I know, but just think of it as a much tastier, upside-down version of those crazy KFC bowls. On the bottom, fresh sea cucumber and spicy garlic scapes.

Bee-ah. And Dungeness crab with ginger and green onion – after the dish had been ravaged by about ten pairs of chopsticks at the same time.

On the sea front, we scarfed back turbot, done two ways; the fins and bones were dusted and deep fried til super crunchy and the rest was gently cooked until the bite-sized pieces became silky little wafers. There’s some gai lan for greenage too. On the bottom, looking for all world like strangely boneless chicken wings, are the plumpest Fanny Bay oysters any of us had ever seen. They were deep fried, then braised in a black beany-type sauce. Great “crunch, squish” factor on that one!

Cold chicken, or drunken chicken, as it’s often called. How hungover grumpy does he look? We all took a break and had a Tostitos moment with the loud styrofoam crunch of the shrimp chips. Fun!

Not pictured, but worth mentioning, we cleaned up plates of baby bok choy, sizzle platters of pepper spiced beef, and tried a simple northern style dish, it was explained, of stir fried Chinese celery hearts and dried black olives. And fat juicy orange slices to finish. Gotta have the orange slices.

Noticeably absent as well: any chicken of the general tao or weird doughy ball-shaped variety; the florid grenadine hue of sickly sweet and sour sauce; forks. We were doing the real deal here!

Pardon me while I pat my belly, because this was a sweet coupla hours of lip-smacking, finger-sucking, multiple-plate-clearing goodness. We diligently plowed our way through solid familiar oldies, simple and perfect sides, and some stellar and (so I’ve been told) often forgotten classics.

After making a supreme mess of ourselves (and the tables – we knew we were in for a special treat because the lovely staff swapped the regular plastic tarps for real linens, ay ya) we swaddled ourselves in layers of sweaters and scarves before heading back out into the cold, crisp night.

As the saying goes, it ain’t food til you eat it.

And boy, is Chinese foo-, er, this fine, fine food ever tasty.

Taste of China
338 Spadina Avenue
416-348-8828

I heart Bitondo's

Nothing brightens up a slushy February evening like a brisk walk. Bonus points if the destination in mind serves up melted cheese by the pound, conveniently wrapped in deep fried pizza dough. And, um, other light, nutritious snacks.

D and I, after a long exhausting afternoon of Rock Band practice (alternating, cross training style, with short blindness-inducing bursts of Burnout Dominator - the best racing game ever) decide to refuel with a quick hunting/gathering mission to Bitondo's.

Being in a virtual band is hard work.

Off we go...doesn't the look of this place just make you happy, what with its promise of all things gooey and tomatoey, as pictured on the store window? (See that sandwich on the lit sign? In teeny tiny letters underneath, it says: actual sandwich size. Well, it doesn't really, but it should.)

We order a veal sandwich, a panzo and two meatball sandwiches (one extra spicy). We play the touch screen memory game thingy that one usually finds in old smelly bars and casinos. I fail the memory game thingy. I take this as a sign that my brain has had enough stimulation for the day and is looking for nothing more that a quick carb score. We watch the other happy members of the "I am eating at Bitondo's right now" club.






Would you believe me if I told you that these wee little paper bags weighed 15 pounds?


Laden with our precious packages, we head home. We took the scenic route.







Thought this looked kinda neat, and then I thought, "Does that say KILL on the wall? Hmm. Dark." Moving on, it's time to EAT!



How exciting. Just like my birthday. Or Christmas!



Can I just tell you how much I love the whole "crunch, squish" factor of a great meatball sandwich? Somehow the point where bun meets sauce (or "saw-wuss", rather) becomes, independent of those two ingredients, its very own, very important, source of happiness. Sigh. Did I mention that it comes with pickled hot peppers?


Very necessary to wash it all down with some dee-licious aranciata. But we're not done yet!


Happiness is a greasy warm paper bag.




This whopper of a panzo is honestly bigger than my head. And I have a pretty fat noggin!

Gratuitous goo shot.

By this point, we felt plenty full, so called off band practice til further notice.


Our cat agrees. Belly. Very. Full. Sleepy...

Bitondo's Pizzeria
11 Clinton Street, Toronto
(416) 533-4101