Thoughts: Stormy Weather for the Food Industry?

It's an interesting time to be writing around the periphery of the food world. The industry, and its legion army of amateur and professional personalities, reviewers, thought-provokers, and unflappable Instagrammers have been receiving a lot of press lately.  And at least from the mainstream side of things, little of it is flattering. Take your pick: the Reviewercard tempest-in-a-teapot (if nothing else came out of the brouhaha, I now know who John Birdsall, who wrote the story behind the latter link, is, and plan to follow his writing, because he makes me smile); subtler reminders that not everyone enjoys others' flash photography during their dinner out; or perhaps this wickedly pointed and yet often on-point post about unspoken thoughts and the food industry. (In regards to this last piece, while we're in accord about elevated cuisine and $16 mac & cheese, I will defend to the pain that cabbage rolls, depicted in their Thought 16 as an example of "not every cuisine deserves to be celebrated," certainly do deserve celebration. And afternoons dedicated to making nothing but with laughter, family, and new and old friends.)

All of this feels, to misquote the newest Selena Kyle, a little like the moments before a storm.

Here's hoping that I'm wrong; still, it feels like there's a few changes on our horizon. How we Tweet and talk about food is changing; hopefully for the better, the more respectful. (Standing on chairs to get a shot of your appetizer really is a little over-the-top.) But for all of that, I quietly advocate that there's still space for all of these odd, wonderful personalities.

After all, KW's food community was the first to welcome me; in particular with my golden ticket at Nick & Nat's Iron Chef competition. In that evening, I gained a new voice and met folks who I admire, respect, and whose lives have intertwined with mine in different ways ever since. I was a little dumbstruck as I took the guest judge's chair - "I can't talk about food; not really," I told the dark-haired woman sitting beside me, gesturing slightly to the man two seats over, "that's Andrew Coppolino, for heaven's sake."  I'd been in town for only a couple of months, but Andrew's Waterloo Region Eats was one of the first local sites I found, and I referred to it  (and continue to) as a map of the region; ideas, recommendations, and things not to miss. She smiled, distracted me with pointing out a chef's dexterous maneuver  rolling and slicing gnocchi with impossible ease, and got me talking; Anna Contini, Foodlink's project coordinator and local food advocate, is a good person to have in your corner.  Susan Cook-Scheerer of Rogers TV Cable 20's daytime (who I would meet again, later, through my work) rounded out the evening's judges. She and Andrew welcomed me to the community, as Anna introduced me, and while they all approached food from different ways of thinking, (and, perhaps, in a more cynical space, could have looked down their nose at this starry-eyed twenty-something with wild hair and wilder metaphors) their welcome was genuine and their thoughts (on the food, on the night itself, on the community and connecting with it) each added something different to the event.

I've a weakness for symbolism - after all, look: here is the neophyte, the established food writer and personality, the media, the community benefit organization. Four judges, four different stakeholders. The thread dancing through this recollection is that there can be a place in the food industry for everyone with an interest in or connection to it. It worked, that evening; it can work on a larger scale with the right steps forward. Whether part of the traditional or independent media structures, advocate or grower, newcomer or steeped in the history and knowledge of a place/art/style, our insights and experiences, when collected, can't help but make our community stronger.

Pie-in-the-sky optimism? Perhaps. But here's to food, wine, and moments of shared wonder, even so.

Review: Bread Heads

Cities are wonderful things. I studied them, a little, back in my undergrad days - ten stories up at the top of the Tory tower with a formidable prof and a class of whipsmart fellow Poli Sci students. It's fascinating to see some of what we talked about take effect in downtown Kitchener; as the Shops on Duke Street become an increasingly interesting place to eat out; as Holy Guacamole expands, Exclamation puts a new face on the corner of Frederick and Duke Streets, and Bread Heads opens.

 Bread Heads is the newest addition; after a coworker talked happily about a new place that served great wood-fired pizza right around the corner, what could I say but "next Tuesday?"
Wandering over, we raised our invisible caps in gratitude to the friendly young team that didn't slow down as they made our pizzas, despite the fact that the inside of the cafe had to be warmer than outside - and the air outside was sweltering. 

We snagged two of the bar stools and took in the space. It's warm (in more than one way), welcoming, quirky, and played right in to my love of always having reading material at hand. I liked that all the books were on-topic.

The small sketches & paintings tucked behind the potted plants on the bar counter were a sweet touch; one of the little (and not so little - like the 'baker's calculator' on the wall) details to enjoy. The cafe isn't a large space, mostly intended for take-out, but a couple of small parties could still fit in, provided the waiting lines aren't too long.

Pizzas are assembled and cooked to order; K omitted the caramelized onions from his Duke (mozza, cremini & baby bella mushrooms, & pepperoni on tomato sauce) and I nodded gleefully when the cashier/prep chef asked if I'd like extra balsamic on my Breadheadigan (cherry tomatoes, goat cheese, & parmesan with a balsamic reduction & olive oil base.)  The summer salad looked tempting: mandarins, blueberries, and goat cheese in spring mix? Yum. Next time, I'll ask about the breads and muffins on the tray below the menu, too. The muffins intrigued, but I was too focused on pizza - and watching the flames dance in the wood-fired oven while trying not to boil, myself - to ask.

At $8 even, tax included, for each pizza, it's an arguably more expensive lunch as quick food goes, but the toppings are fresh, tasty, and plentiful (and, according to the website, stocked locally and seasonally as much as possible.)

 I was more than happy with the mix of flavours and toppings on my pizza - it's hard to go wrong with cherry tomatoes, dark balsamic, and goat cheese, and the Breadheadigan gets it very right.  The pizza dough is great, too: pleasantly chewy with crispy bits around a couple of air bubbles and flavourful without being heavy. K was equally happy with his Duke (pictured left), and recommended I try one of the pizzas with a tomato sauce base next time.

...that said: see you Tuesday?

Cheers!

Review/Wandering: Rainbow Caribbean Cuisine

After returning twice in two weeks, I'm coming to terms with the fact that the chicken roti at Rainbow is both addictive and causes something like a Eureka moment. (Oh, you can't help but think upon first bite. That's why people love this place.)

Don Henley's "The End of the Innocence" is playing over the stereo; a years-younger Barack Obama looks out over the oxtail and snapper trays from a poster with an optimistic smile - it's an interesting mix of old and new, but it's a good one. I brush my feet against the floor, sizing up the long bar of curries, rum cakes, and coconut desserts and wonder if Rainbow was the first tenant of this sunny spot in downtown Kitchener, scribbling absently about how kids-these-days might just grow up okay despite listening to Lady Gaga (next up on the stereo) sing about disco sticks if I (who is a self-professed lyrics girl) am only figuring out now how poignant some of my parents' favorite songs really were. Sometimes it takes time to listen differently; time and years. It took me 'til last week to discover that Tom Cochrane's "Big League" (a song - or, well, chorus - sung many a time as my family piled into our van to send my brother or sister off to an early-morning hockey game) is firmly rooted in tragedy.

I digress. Food and music, particularly their combination, can take you anywhere.

The roti I've ordered is massive; sweet-savoury and staining my fingers even as I carve it. It's too large to lift with anything resembling elegance, but this is a Very Good Thing - the roti wrap itself is pleasantly chewy without being dense, and it's packed with tender, slow-cooked chicken, potatoes, and onions. I can already tell I'll be taking the last third home for leftovers. Again! And I walked in starving. ...Now to guard the leftovers from M.

One day I'll make it to the goat curry; to the snapper dinner; to the Jamaican patties with their bright, flaky, egg-y pastry. I'm not usually the type to gravitate to a favorite and get stuck there, but there's a first time for everything.

When I wrote this first, it was during the heart of Oktoberfest, and I think I'd ventured Downtown in search of a schnitzel, but I'm definitely glad my feet turned me this way.

In other fantastic news, I noticed as I left Rainbow that Niko Niko is once again open for business! (It had been closed for some time due to smoke damage from the fire down the block.)

Gastronavigation: Caffeination

...I've been a lazy blogger as of late, but am looking to change that.

Starting off easy, with photos taken while wandering through the various (awesome) independent coffee stores that KW has to offer.

Cafe Pyrus is relatively new to the coffee scene, but they definitely look like they know what they're doing. While the armchairs and couches look like they got lost on the way to being part of a John Hughes set, they are also ridiculously comfortable (and ideally positioned to soak up afternoon sun while sipping on a perfectly lemony iced tea - not too sweet! I, sadly, did not take a picture of it.) I liked the nifty lime, pomegranate, and jasmine plants on the windowsill (you can just see some tiny limes!)

Sammich [sic] is one of the few misspellings that my recalcitrant English-major side will let slide. The funky monocled pear and sly sense of humour used throughout Cafe Pyrus' vegan menu is fun as well.

I loved the open baskets of beans at Kitchener's Matter of Taste from the first moment I walked in. There's just something beautifully sensual about it (and yes, I restrained myself from poking at the beans. But only barely, and out of consideration for fellow coffee enthusiasts.)

The ensemble of Bourbon Street vanilla rooibos tea and cheese croissant for me, and Americano and blueberry-oatmeal (?) muffin for M. All yummy. One day, I should really ask who does their architectural-meets-graffiti-overlay artwork that hangs on Matter of Taste's walls. There's one with lots of reds and an old brick building that I covet quite considerably!

I (finally!) stopped back at Cafe O for an espresso-based beverage... and found their latte delicious and a perfect afternoon pick-me-up (the prettily-swirled soft foam was a visual bonus.) Sadly, they were out of those epic almond croissants... another time!

Where have you been wandering? Is there anywhere I should send my feet towards?

Review: Village Creperie (with a side of history)

Oh and I changed my whole menu last night due to our conversations and made crepes. I had a creamed steak and broccoli and roasted garlic and pepper crepe and a scallop with ginger and green onion and peppers with the Mango, ginger, jalopeno sauce crepe served with a salad. Everyone enjoyed it! So thanks for the inspiration!


This, I think (excerpted from a recent e-mail with my Mom; I recounted the awesome pre-V-Day dinner that M and I enjoyed at the Village Creperie to her, and she completely rerouted the family dinner that night as a result) is a big part of why I'm a fledgling foodie. ^_~ It could be said that we breathe food, a little, in my family.

I love you, Mom. Never change. ♥


That said, I've been waiting to try the Village Creperie since arriving in KW in August, and it lived up to my expectations! Nestled in Belmont Village behind an unprepossessing storefront (though I covet the quirky vintage font used in the signage), we opened the door that night to a bit of Brittany brought to the Tricities.

The ambience is charming and romantic; tealights and overhead lights cast a soft glow over the twelve or so tables and long bar, and the hostess and servers were amiable and welcoming.

I would happily return for my crepe - a special, featuring slow-roasted chicken cooked in a Riesling wine sauce with mushrooms, onions, and topped with peas. The side salad of baby greens and tomatoes added crunch and variety, and left space for dessert! M's eye was caught by the smokey Texas chili galette (buckwheat crepe) stuffed with beef, garlic, chipotles, kidney beans, peppers, and aged cheddar, and the bite I was able to negotiate away from him was delicious.

We lingered over our wine (a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon and an Italian Pinot Grigio) as we narrowed down dessert options; M's smile grew impossibly once his dessert crepe with ice cream and chocolate sauce descended, and I'm sure mine mirrored his as I took in the sight of my fresh fruit and dulce du leche crepe, topped with more fruit and toasted pecans. My crepe was tasty (I never even had a chance with M's) but I'll be back for it in the summertime to see if the fruit selection changes; the grapes and citrus fruits were a bright counterpoint to the richness of the dulce du leche, but the grapes were somewhat unwieldly. I'm thinking strawberries and raspberries (and peaches, yum) will be much more amenable. M ordered an Americano with his crepe, and he praised its flavour and aroma highly (and bounced most of the way home.)

As we ordered and received our dessert, the restaurant filled up quickly; I recommend calling in advance for reservations, especially on weekends.

Bon appetit!

Review: Matter of Taste (Kitchener)

One of my resolutions for 2011 (say what you will) is to stop holding grudges.

In this case, to stop holding grudges with undeserving-of-said-grudge coffee shops. After surprisingly rude treatment by one of the employees at Uptown Waterloo's Matter of Taste on my first visit there, I'd steered clear of both locations until a blustery day steered our feet Downtown. M had a craving for an Americano, and I just wanted to feel my toes again. On our first trip past the storefront, M looked over with a hopeful smile, I made some sort of grumbly noise, and we trekked on.

But as luck (and Sunday hours) would have it, we ended up back in front of Kitchener's Matter of Taste. Neither of us had been to this location before, so I swallowed my fear of snarly baristas and followed M.

Said fear disappeared immediately. MoT offers an almost academic sensory overdose, not in the sense of rulers and pencils, but an offering of ideas and histories and flavours, if you're interested in digging deeper. I was distracted by the open baskets of coffee beans, the almost-abstract landscapes with graffiti overlay on the walls, the charts of coffee aromas and how to tie them all together, the (sadly occupied but definitely comfortable-looking) armchairs and couches... it took M ordering his Americano to bring me back to the menu. I requested a London Fog, and we snagged one of the tables after the young man at the counter told us he'd bring our drinks out (definitely a nice touch!)

Both drinks were what we needed - M needed the caffeine kick and enjoyed that the Americano's strong flavours broke through the haze a stubborn cold put on his sense of taste, and I enjoyed the vanilla kick and perfectly foamed milk of my Fog. According to their website, MoT actually holds latte art competitions, where baristas create artistic masterpieces on the surface of foamed milk.

We stayed for a second round; M grabbed a coffee and I ventured to the tea shelf and "smell tested" the sample vials of the black and green teas (completely missing the shelf of herbal, white, and rooibos), and chose the green Cinnamon Sibu. (YUM.)

Toes warmed and well-caffeinated, we headed out into the chill - but we'll be back.

Review: 41

41 can't help but make a good first impression. From the stylish, warm interior characterized by exposed brick, high ceilings, plush booths and fresh alstroemeria on every table to the way the maitre d' put a commendable amount of work into finding my family a table (that said, dinner reservations are recommended!), it's easy to tell that this place was created as a labour of love.

41 is a revisioning of a classic kid on the block - it opened on April 15, 2010 - although head chef and proprietor Peter Martin stayed on board from when it was known as Peter Martin's 20 King. From a quick menu survey, 41 has kept 20 King's focus on gourmet dining featuring a variety of meats while expanding in the direction of "gourmet comfort food".

That said, while the food is delicious, the wine list solid (Dad was pleased to note a favorite Malbec), the fries addictive, and I wish I could adopt or learn the secrets of the person who makes their smoky, chipotle-tinged ketchup or spicy blueberry mustard (the latter sounds crazy but it is a thing of beauty) there is room for improvement.

Firstly, the website is in need of updating; most of the dinner menu entrees are listed on the website as anywhere from 1-4 dollars less than what we paid during our visit, and the dessert menu "singles" are around $7 (although a chocolate/vanilla cookie has been added). Prices go up; that's part of the business. But when they do, I believe it should be the restaurant's responsibility to let potential customers know what they're in for.

Service for the most part was solid, and everyone has their rushed days, but literally dropping a soup spoon on the table in front of my dad before rushing away without a word? Not so much. And at least tonight, 41 suffered from unattractive side plating and a minimal serving of sides on the Wild Boar Schnitzel (which three of us ordered; my siblings did much better with the buttermilk mashed potatoes and fries that came with their dishes.) Also, I'm naive enough (and visit St. Jacobs' market enough, where they're readily available and not that expensive) to expect that when a menu says a $25 entree is served with fingerling potatoes, there will be more than two or three, and they'll be plated attractively. The fennel and beets served with the potatoes were a sweet-sharp counterpoint, but I couldn't help but want a little more.

My favorite main course was the chicken Kiev - a great mix of flavours and the chicken was perfectly cooked; as well, the sarsaparilla short ribs had the best plating and melted off the bone (yum to the root beer jus; another unlikely mix that turned out deliciously!) The wild boar schnitzel was good and filling, but pounded thin enough that it was hard to discern any boary flavour; M enjoyed it, but he noted quietly that "it could have been anything."

(We're coming back for the 20Kinger burgers and fries - we watched way too many emerge from the kitchen to not give them a try!)

And the evening ended on a positive note: dessert!

My sister's sweet tooth is legendary, and she closed in on the creme brulee; rich, creamy, and with a smooth, strong vanilla flavour... I almost kept it upon my chance to try it. I chose the lemon tart, which was a knockout too, nicely contrasted by a small bowl of raspberry sorbet. M was the only guy at our table to join us in dessert, and chose the triple chocolate tower with Bailey's cream on the side; I'm not much of a chocolate dessert girl, but with a white, milk, and dark chocolate layer, it was beautifully presented and not too heavy (key, as schnitzel is sneaky; it doesn't look like a lot, but we were both very full at the end of the night!)

Having awesome desserts swayed me, in the end; 41 has a ton of potential, and there's something to be said for supporting locally owned and operated businesses, too. I just hope they update their website between now and then.