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: Los Comales (London)

I attended a conference on social media this past week, and a recurring topic of discussion was how modern media enabled consumers' feedback so that they became prosumers; increasingly able to discuss a product with fans, followers, and flamers, and impact others' outlook as a result.

Along these lines, it's inspiring to see that a young man in London who just enjoys Los Comales' food volunteers to maintain their social media presence. Particularly with National Volunteer Week around the corner, it struck me as a great way to share his time and connect with others. It also says a lot about how some food can inspire loyalty!

Loyalty that, in this case, is deserving. From catching up with friends over Salvadorean pupusas, fish tacos, and yuca frita to listening as owner/chef Ana muddled mint for our mojitos in her mortar and pestle behind the bar to enjoying the wandering guitarist who played throughout our meal, it was a great night out.

The four of us started out with yuca frita: fried cassava/yuca, which is deliciously starchy and served with chicharron, salsa, and a vinegar-y Latin coleslaw of shredded cabbage and carrots. While I grew up eating mayo-centric coleslaw, this alternative is quickly growing on me! M also ordered a pupusa with zucchini, green peppers, and cheese - I wish I'd tried it, but M was starving and only smiled half-guiltily after its prompt disappearance. In his defence, he said that it was delicious.

Past Urbanspoon reviewers had noted that, because the restaurant is small, makes a lot of its own tortillas and base sauces, and is very much a labour of love, the food can take some time to get to you. We'd braced for it, and while there was a wait, the four of us didn't feel it was unreasonable, and all of our food arrived together and hot. We'd decided on two orders of fish tacos and one of each of the combo platters. My combo platter featured a pupusa (I chose the pork & cheese variety), an empanada Colombiana, and a chimichanga, with a mix of rice and beans and a little bit of green salad to fill the plate. The empanada's corn patty was hearty without being heavy, holding the spiced ground beef and veggies together quite well, and the chimichanga was delicious from start to finish.

When making Latin-inspired food at home, M and I usually fall into making tacos or pseudo-quesadillas; visiting Los Comales has reminded us that there's a much more diverse range of food to sink our teeth into (though he and S enjoyed their soft tacos with fish a lot! S also commented that though they're a simple dish, the refried beans served with the tacos were very tasty, too.)

We left the restaurant happily full, some of us with leftovers in tow that we figured would be perfect late-night nosh after the Said the Whale concert that had turned our feet towards London in the first place. (We also left feeling sad that we'd discovered a great place that was too far away to return to regularly - fortunately, it sounds like London has a solid music/concert scene...)

Review: Bhima's Warung

I'll admit to not quite understanding Bhima's Warung for some time - the storefront was quirky, but never drew me in. And so it was, until a coworker-of-sorts told me about how his first reaction to one of their desserts was anger.

Anger, he said, with the kind of smile usually reserved for talking about things like Sherlock on BBC or the band Teenage Fanclub. The gulab jabon, he told me, were beyond decadent. Spice-scented, donut-like morsels drizzled with rose syrup and gold dust, served with a house-made cinnamon-cardamom ice-cream... Anger, because upon his first bite, he knew they wouldn't last long and they were three steps past delicious.

Now I was curious.

So M and I circled our anniversary on the calendar, M scrawling "Bhima's Warung" across the square. We had a date.

We arrived on the late side, closer to 8, smiling back at the friendly hostess and trying not to stare too openly at the open-concept kitchen. I'd love to return and sit at the bar and absorb the goings-on, perhaps with another Castro in hand - not the politician but an enticing cocktail featuring a 7-year-old rum and fresh passion fruit - just to have a different view and perhaps pick up an idea or two.

After yo-yo-ing around the appetizer menu, we dove in blind with the bhima's bocas: an appetizer platter featuring the chef's selections. At just over $40, it's an investment - but oh, was it a wise one.

Good food takes time; the time that the chefs took to prepare the various elements of the platter gave M and I some time to catch up (March has been hectic, and doesn't look to be changing its pace!) That said, the wait was not unreasonable, and when it arrived, the platter required its own table.

A small table, true, but still.

My photo doesn't do it justice - my camera has nearly given up the ghost, and the lighting at Bhima's certainly leans towards "romantic" (that said, ten points for the real orchid sprigs on the tables!)

But back to the food. Everything was tasty, and brought different flavours to the mix. From the earthy tofu, sweet pineapple, and peanutty flavours of the gado gado (which, I decided upon second bite, was scrumptious and should be eaten more often) to the crispy vegetable pakoras and their dynamite spicy tamarind sauce - they're the more spiky entities in the middle of the platter in the picture, and along with their dipping sauce, were one of the standouts - we enjoyed every bite. Even, to my surprise, the freshly shucked oysters. They've never been my seafood of choice, but was willing to give them another try. This likely had something to do with their topping, a cool, compelling blend of ginger, lemongrass, chili, and garlic. I'm glad I did.

A special kudos to the chefs who prepared the dipping sauces; I wish I'd been less hungry when I started so I'd have paid more attention to the distinct elements of the sweet and sour sauce intended for the peanut-encrusted prawns beyond noting that I'd have happily eaten it with a spoon. (KW chefs take their sauces seriously, it seems, and Bhima's is no exception. ...the mango butter, served with a chicken/scallop dumpling is also to live for! From Little Mushroom's 40 Creek BBQ sauce to the blueberry mustard down at 41, I can remember leaving catering events and restaurants alike waxing poetic about sauces. I don't remember having done that before moving here.)

Somehow, we ate our way through the platter, but we're both hearty eaters, it was late, and it was dinner for me; M's hollow leg is the stuff of legend. Portions are large - we'd been eyeing two desserts but could only find room in our collective hollow legs for one.

When she brought our dessert out, I told M the story about my coworker; after our first bites, we agreed: he was absolutely right.

Oddly enough, I found that the ice cream was the standout element for me - cinnamon and cardamom are a heady, sweet-spicy-earthy combination that I'd happily try again. But with at least four other homemade ice cream varieties offered at Bhima's, it might be a while...

Gastronavigation: Muskoka Brewery

I'm rarely the type of person who finds the most direct route from point A to point B.

This can drive M (with his logical, plan-based thought processes) for loops, particularly when we're zooming down the highway, intent on some eventual goal, and I exclaim in the general direction of a roadside flyer or an ever-helpful blue attractions-at-this-exit signs and insist on a detour.

Fortunately for both of us, most of the detours end well! One of our most recent triumphs happened as we were heading back to KW from Algonquin Provincial Park (which, for the record, actually knows what a proper winter should look like - snow, glorious snow!)

We were approaching Bracebridge, and though I didn't get much of a solid first look at the exit sign, I did catch the words "Chocolate House" and "Brewery."

"Are we stopping?" M asked.

"Chocolate and beer in the same place, and you're asking me this?" I replied with a smile.

Five minutes later, we arrived at the Muskoka Brewery. Heartened by the sandwich board by the door and its promise of a free beer tasting - we'd struck out earlier that day in our attempt to visit another brewing company and were hoping to try something new - we wandered in and were greeted cheerfully, both by the representative and her golden lab cross, Gertie.

Muskoka Brewery's tasting room is bright, comfortable and welcoming, with lots of nods to its cottage country surroundings - not least these chair taps!

Don't be fooled by the tongue-in-cheek humour into thinking they're lightweights; these brewers know what they're doing. The rack behind the taps had no small number of awards gracing its upper shelves; on the lower shelves were glass jars of the various hops and malts used in the brewing process.

I've got a lot to learn, and enjoyed the time that the Muskoka beer expert (sommelier?) took with us, going over a little bit of the history behind some of the brews and showing us individual flower clusters of one of the hops.

Hops - or, at least this species - was prettier, softer than I'd expected, a thing of light green petals and a mildly sweet smell. It seemed more like something that would be added to a herbal tea, not a full-bodied beer. In the picture to the right, the hops are in pellet form in the middle jar; the petals themselves can be seen just behind the jars.

(The other two jars hold the malts for the Dark Ale and Craft Pilsner, respectively.)

But while ingredients, ambience, and awards are wonderful things, how did the beer itself fare?

Quite well! We had the chance to try their full range of beers, and the seasonal feature - a "Winter Beard" double-chocolate cranberry stout. M and I had tried the stout earlier this year, but we certainly weren't complaining about a second opportunity. The cranberry flavour is definitely discernible, and the chocolate (very strong cocoa flavours upon first sip) lends the stout a depth that suited these cooler months. It would be a great beer to curl up with.

The other standout - new to us - was their Mad Tom IPA. It's strong stuff; denser, somehow, than their other offerings (even the stout; yes, my brain is still figuring that one out.) There's a distinct lemon-citrus note to it and a richness we both found compelling.

I also enjoyed their Dark Ale, but with snowshoes, ski poles, and skates already filling the trunk, we made a mental note to come back after a future trip!

That said, if you're in the Muskoka area, look the Brewery up! We never had a chance to tour, as it was Family Day when we visited, but something tells me it would be fun. The staff is friendly, knowledgeable, and welcoming, the space itself interesting and with lots of little details to investigate - not to mention, the beer sampling is complimentary.

Did I mention that you might just run into the friendliest golden lab who will love you forever if you only play frisbee with her (yes, in the tasting room)? I know that she stole M's heart! He strategized about puppy ownership at least until Barrie...

Happy travels!

(Also, any recommendations for Ontario brews that have knocked your socks off lately?)

Review: Nomiya (Edmonton)

In this season of cold (well, not quite) and homecoming (well, mostly); there's a Snow Patrol lyric that's never been far from my mind: this could be the very minute I'm aware I'm alive; all these places feel like home.

The song speaks more to relationships, perhaps, than jetsetting and moving away, but I found myself craving comfort food from another home even as I adjusted to being on Mountain Standard Time for the holidays. As such, my sister and I all but pulled an U-turn on 109th Street to re-route for a nifty, new-ish ramen bar on Calgary Trail that had caught our eye.

Nomiya welcomed us in warmly. Menus appeared almost immediately in the hands of our charming but bashful server, who ran through the list of ramen and various toppings that you could add in; some of the items puzzled my sister, a ramen newbie who passed me her nori (much to my delight), declared the tree ear mushrooms exempt from her general dislike of all mushrooms, and smiled quizzically at the pretty naruto fishcakes. Still, she declared the curry ramen delicious, and enjoyed that the broth was not too spicy, while being well-spiced (I think she'd been bracing for a more fiery experience, but Japanese curry tends to run on the milder side.)

We'd started with an order of the yaki gyoza; at $5.95 for five, the price seemed a little steep (and odd numbers of appetizers is one of my eating-out irks) but they were tasty, and good to nibble on as we waited for the ramen and caught up on seven months of stories.

It was a while before our ramen arrived, but our server (and the others in the restaurant) had their hands full; I don't think there were more than two empty tables at any point during our meal. My miso ramen was worth the wait, piping hot and piled high with pleasantly chewy noodles, nori, five or six thin slices of chashu pork, bamboo shoots, green onion, tree ear mushrooms, and kernel corn (which never ceases to make me smile; it's always seemed a curious addition.) The broth itself was sumptuous and filling, and I enjoyed that it was peppered with white sesame seeds - different, but nifty.

My experience with ramen is limited - during my year in Japan, I spent a handful of nights at our local ramen place (which, awesomely, was called "Ramen Stand," spelled out in katakana) where the chef would create and ladle out broth from a massive metal container that seemed part pot, part keg, and part cauldron. Memorably, my fellow JET, T, who introduced me to the place, recommended the negi chashu ramen and told me not to think too hard about the process of making the broth or its sodium count in the same breath. I also wandered Sapporo's Ramen Alley on a freezing February night with friends, but as that night also held a tabehoudai/nomihoudai...

That all said, Nomiya's ramen held its ground - savoury, comforting, filling, a little nostalgic, and ultimately yummy. It was worlds ahead of anything I've tried to make since my year overseas, and as ramen places of any stripe are fairly challenging to track down in either of my most recent homes, a pleasant surprise! I'd like to return, but not tomorrow. Sadly, one can't ignore things like sodium levels forever. But perhaps I can until the holiday season is over... ^___^

Review: Cheeses Murphy

Sometimes, simple things can be magical.

And the friendly, quirky folks who staffed the Princess Cinema/Cafe's ticket window-slash-sandwich dispensary on Saturday seemed to have a firm grasp on both of these concepts.

There's a guerrilla element to Cheeses Murphy, the weekend-night only, grilled cheese-only (well, mostly) late night cafe - the rolldown sign in the Princess Cafe windows, the almost conspiratorial grins the cashier gives you as he hands you a laminated picture that represents your order ("Dolly Parton" and "Oprah Tattoo" were called out before us), the mustachioed mascot with a head of cheese printed on very carefully aligned 11x17s in another window. If their methods appear spontaneous, their solid attention to detail and appealing, tongue-in-cheek humour are an excellent counterbalance.

M had visited CM on Friday night, returning with happily glazed eyes and tales of bacon jam. We returned the next day to see if the "Lumberjack" (smoked ham, gruyere, creamy mustard) and "Cheese & Chong" (ground beef, cheddar, fresh cilantro, chipotle sour cream) could take on the namesake he'd tried (with cheddar & bacon jam.) After a short wait, our avatar was called and we snagged our foil-wrapped sandwiches, choosing to eat them amidst the other groups of late-night wanderers waiting in the (open-air so rather chilly) lobby area.

I think after the second bite, we forgot it was cold outside.

Of the two, though the C&C was tasty and the fresh cilantro an awesome idea my Lumberjack was the favorite. The ham and gruyere played very well with the grainy mustard, and while I can't remember the last time I ate plain white bread and might have looked at it with mild disappointment at first, M's thought that said bread fits the easygoing, comfort-food vibe of CM in general quickly unquirked my eyebrows - as did his speculative, if-you-don't-want-it-I'll-joyfully-eat-it look!

Things to return for? The namesake (bacon jam!) possibly served with some homemade tomato soup for dipping. And if we're feeling particularly ambitious, layering one of the fancier offerings around a Classic (cheddar cheese) in what they term an "Inception."

Fast, tasty, and open 'til 3:30 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights - if you're out wandering Uptown in the wee hours, Cheeses Murphy's definitely worth a stop!

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.)