Every neighbourhood in Toronto deserves its very own “casual Italian fare” spot.  Paisano’s at Willowdale and Sheppard, was our go-to in my part of North York and we recently discovered that Marcello’s rises above the St. Clair West crowd to claim a devoted following on Corso Italia. The suits and skirt-suits who work around Queen and University — no one’s allowed to live that close to the centre of the universe, right? — can get their fix for gourmet, straight-ahead Italian at Little Anthony’s Restaurant and Bar.

The downtown osteria held a media dinner to showcase their new menu last month. The jointly-responsible occasions for this event were: the 1-year anniversary of Andreas Antoniou taking charge of the restaurant his family owns (he also runs Estiatorias VOLOS), and hiring Chef Garth Legree (County General) to take over from Aaron Foster.

All of us managed to fit into the large private room (still a surprising rarity downtown) at the back of the restaurant for the event. I heard from our tablemates that Antoniou and designer Mark Kryacou wanted this to be a space separate from the bustle at the front of the establishment.

Roasted Capon with that Crispy Chicken Thigh in their somewhere.

The full menu, including drink pairings from general manager Matt Roulston, is listed below. For me, highlights were the Shrimp Scampi (“fried bread” a combination of English words that I think we can agree has a Pavlovian effect) and the crispy chicken thigh from the Roasted Capon course–not surprising if you remember what Chef Legree’s last restaurant is known for. We were told that the house-made pasta is a major focus for the restaurant and I wish we had been given a clearer preview of that, but I understand that fresh pasta for thirty at once can be a challenge.

Flat Iron Steak

Canapés:
Signature cocktail “Milano Sunrise”

Cheese Tortellini
Scamorza, Saffron Bechamel, Watercress, Breadcrumb

Bacon Wrapped Dates
Gorgonzola Filling

To Start:
2011 Soave Classico PRA, Monteforte d’Alpano, Veneto, Italy

Shrimp Scampi
Lemon Butter Sauce, Fried Bread, Parsley & Arugula Salad

Tagliatelle alla Carbonara
Pancetta, Egg Yolk, Parmigiano Reggiano, Parsley, Nutmeg

Pan Seared Scallop
Grilled Radicchio, Marjoram &  Garlic Vinaigrette, Smoked Bacon

To Follow:
2010 Chianti Classico, Castello Di Verrazzano, Tuscany, Italy

6 oz Flat Iron Steak
Potato Gnocchi, Roasted Mushrooms, Thyme & Peppercorn Sauce

Filetto di Branzino
White Beans, Lemon Al Burro, P.E.I. Mussels, Braised Fennel, Orange

Roasted Capon
Brown Lentils, Crispy Confit Thigh, Glazed Spring Vegetables

To Finish:
Lemon Sorbet

Tiramisu

Little Anthony’s: 121 Richmond Street West, Toronto; 416-368-2223; Mon to Fri 11:30 AM – 10 PM, Sat 5:30 PM – 10 PM, Sun closed; @little_anthonys. 

Cooking in a group can be a distracting experience — conversation and making sure that you’re keeping pace with everyone else are strong, if slightly unsafe, reasons to take your eyes off the cutting board. But, put a pro like celebrity chef Lynn Crawford at the station one to your left and suddenly things become a lot more intense. That’s where I found myself a couple weeks ago when I got the chance to visit The Stop‘s community kitchen on Davenport Road in Toronto.

Nick Saul, Gerry Doutre, Chef Lynn Crawford, Rachel Gray

The group of fellow bloggers and food writers had been gathered together to learn more about the partnership that has been struck between Ultima Foods (through their Iögo yogurt brand) and community kitchens. The have partnered with specific community kitchens near their production facilities, the larger Community Food Centres Canada, and with Chef Crawford.

The veg for the pasta salad.

Nick Saul is the President and CEO of Community Food Centers Canada and was the Executive Director of The Stop for more than 14 years. Saul described the situation at The Stop’s food bank when he started there as bleak, “we had to check our humanity at the door,” he said. The purpose of the community kitchen model (and community food centres as a broader concept) is to provide an environment focused on education, communal activity, and a holistic approach to food. Recognizing that this support infrastructure should be much more than the a dusty cupboard of non-perishable foodstuffs is central to the mission.

Roasted Chicken leg quarters

For our visit, Chef Scott Macneil took us through the process of creating a meal that might be featured on a regular day in one of the community kitchens. Our menu featured a veg-heavy pasta salad — Chef Lynn’s julienned carrots were much more uniform than mine — roasted chicken leg quarters, and a generous piece of pear spice cake.

I left with a greater sense of what community kitchens do and (thankfully) with all of digits intact.

The waters where day job meets personal blog are often swimming with sharks. Problems arise when the two parties – employer and blogging employee – have different ideas about who’s the appropriate audience for what information and how time should be spent. I’m lucky to have found a way to make the blog work and regular work connected and supportive of each other and I’d like to share great news today about a new project I’m starting. Over the last week I’ve joined the social media team at Qualifirst Foods and will be helping them with their community building efforts on Twitter and elsewhere.

Qualifirst is Canada’s oldest specialty food company and has the mission of bringing many of the world’s top notch products to Canadian markets. They have built strong relationships with premier chefs – mainly in Toronto, Vancouver, and Montréal – and are now working on a few big idea to connect directly with home cooks. From the two tours I’ve had of their warehouse in Toronto I can say that these are some of the most food obsessed and quality minded people I’ve met and they can talk your ear off about the products they’ve made passionate connections with. Those times when you’ve wondered “who carries that hard to find specialized product?” The answer is Qualifirst more often than you’d probably imagine.

I’ll be working part-time with the broader social media team at Qualifirst and will have a particular focus on the company’s Twitter activities. They are committed to engaging with Canadian foodsters and one thing they’ve asked me to turn my talents to is searching out the best food-blog content that we can share from Qualifirst to readers. Have a look at the Qualifirst twitter account; I’ll be at the keyboard for many of those tweets. As well as sharing some of the best Canadian food content and company news we’ll also have product contests to run and other ways to involve followers.

So, as well as sharing the good news on the personal front, this post is obviously also a bit about disclosure. Because I found someone who’s willing to pay me to talk about food and drink there will be times when work and my writing here on Food With Legs will intersect. For instance, I may want to talk about an product that Qualifirst carries and I think that you’ll be interested in. When I do this it will be in a transparent way and each time I’ll be clear about the connection. I’ll be just as transparent when I tweet from my own account about Qualifirst products.

The header image on this post is a good example of a product that I think you might be interested in. The Roka cheese puffs are delicious, good times. The Dutch company that makes them uses 12-month aged Gouda. I’m happy to find that working with producers who base their products around delicious, authentic ingredients motivates a lot of the Qualifirst “what products to carry” decisions.

The Roka box says that the cheese puffs go well with wine, but I know marketing speak when I see it. Cheese, butter, flaky pastry: these are all good buddies with beer. To confirm that suspicion I had a few friends over last weekend and we tasted our way through several combinations. Th Olive one with Goose Island’s Sofie (a Belgian-style saison) was my preference.

As always, I’d love to hear from you guys about what you think. Have you tried the Roka biscuits? Are there products that you’re interested in hearing more about? Or more generally, when brands tweet about food are there things they do that you can’t stand that I should avoid? Let me know in the comments below.

At the same time that a new brewery seems to open in Ontario every week, we are also treated to the release of widely-recognised, international beers almost as often. Two Belgian style ales from Chicago’s goose island brewery – Sophie and Matilda – will be making their Ontario debut this April.

The plan is to have them in LCBOs by the week of April 29. Until then, they are exclusively available at Nota Bene on Queen Street West. I had the pleasure of attending a media lunch there last week to mark the occasion.

The cloudy, gold Sofie is brewed in the saison style. It spends three months in the company of a dose of Brettanomyces — a strain of yeast that is used to give beer a gentle tart-funk. The fresh orange peel that goes into the barrel with the beer nicely ties together the hint of sweetness, touch of bitterness, and gentle tartness. Goose Island Brewery’s founder named Sofie after his granddaughter. She received that honor on her 10th birthday, but for legality sake it didn’t come with a sample of beer.

Matilda of Tuscany, a sort of 11th century Italian Joan of Arc, is the namesake for the other Goose Island beer in the release. This Belgian pale ale has a polished penny color to it. It announces itself with biscuity malt aromas that are seasoned with notes of warm spices. The flavour brings lots of stone fruit — that one of my tablemates pinpointed as apricots — a dry, lingering finish.

The lobster salad course for the Goose Island launch at Nota Bene.

In a balanced and measured way, the food for the lunch was just as much in the spotlight as the beer. To start, with Sofie, we were served a very neatly plated salad featuring poached Nova Scotia lobster, Enoki mushrooms, citrus vinaigrette and a pineapple-vanilla reduction. The sauces on the salad lifted the beer’s tropical and citrus zest flavors. For the main course, chef David Lee gave us his signature suckling pig and Boudin noir tart — a dish that has its own cult-like following. Such a distilled expression of deep, earthy flavors (the smoke of bacon, umami from mushrooms, and truffle vinaigrette’s musk) gave the flavors of warm spices and stewed fruit in the Matilda something to lean against. For the dessert course we jumped back to Sofie and a simple, but vibrant rhubarb sorbet.

David Lee’s suckling pig and boudin noir tart at Nota Bene.

As an added enticement for those who want to give the idea of carefully crafted beer matched with top-tier food a shot, Nota Bene will keep the Boudin tart ($29) on the menu for the rest of the month.

When a question brought Goose Island’s Cicerone, Suzanne Wolcott, around to the matter of price I was struck by a thought. At retail, they expect it to be about $10 (that’s a great deal) and that bars and restaurants will add a 200 to 300% markup. Let’s put aside, for the time being, the question of what that amount should be in order to discuss the reasons for adding a markup at all. Part of the value a restaurant adds is convenience and ambiance – you get to drink with your friends in a room nicer than your basement and don’t have to do the dishes – but it should also be a matter of expertise. Craft beer needs to be served in proper glassware, at the right temperature, and poured with some skill. For beers like these two from Goose Island, 4 or 5°C is, in my opinion, way too cold. I’d like to see them noticeably warmer than fridge temperature, somewhere around the top of the temperature range you’d expect for white wine. They should also come to the table with at least a finger’s worth of fluffy white head on top of the glass.

I’m sure there will be more than a couple of craft-brewed feathers ruffled by this release. The marketing and distribution muscle of Labatt (who, like Goose Island, is an arm of the AB InBev global-brewing octopus) certainly came in handy for helping secure a patch of the limited space in the province’s LCBOs. But, from a beer drinker’s perspective, it’s becoming tougher to get upset about that. I’m bothered that the Empty Bottle Depot (a.k.a. the Beer Store) is designed to make it as difficult as possible to buy anything other than Bud Lite (or one of the fractionally different brands on the “Top 10″ board), but Sofie and Matilda are really delicious ales that are not far from the first tier in North America. I’m happy to have the opportunity to try them close to home. And, as a beer drinker who has been known to enjoy a bite or two of food with my drink, I’m especially pleased to see it paired with the delicious fare at Nota Bene.

When I write tasting notes for my First Draught posts, I do my best to not let preconceived notions cloud my judgment. Sometimes, though a reference to how the beer differs from expectations is unavoidable. I can’t remember a honey beer experience (before this one) that wasn’t full of cloying sweetness. As I think about it more, that might be because the honey beers I’ve tried (usually dug out of the bottom of a cooler at a barbeque) really were designed to be that way – sweet, cheap, and cheerful. Anyway, the point is that this beer is anything but. It has all of the aromatic and lovely floral aromas and flavors of honey without any of the sugary sweetness.

The rest of the Dupont release also deserves some attention. The Monk’s Stout is all right, but as I posted on a homebrewing discussion forum, who needs another halfway decent stout in the middle of April? The bruine is good (and on the same forum some have speculated that it will get better with age), but the Cervezia is the other gem of the brewery feature. In some ways it’s an advanced version of Dupont’s famous saison. My tasting notes for it include “funky” “pastrami” and “wicked length”. That world-famous, mainstay saison is now a regular listing the LCBO and should still be on shelves after the brewery feature ends.

First Draught: Brasserie Dupont’s Biere de Miel

The LCBO’s featured brewery this season isBrasserie Dupont, and all four of the special release beers are worth a taste. The Moinette Brune is a nice Belgian brown ale, and the Monk’s Stout is interesting, but it’s the Cervesia — and especially the organic Bière de Miel — that stand out.

Honey beer has no particular historical connection to spring, but the floral lightness of the style and the fact that it’s based on a product that is so intrinsically tied to warm weather always makes me think of the season.

The Bière de Miel won prizes and international recognition for the brewery, but it was discontinued when the Dupont family took control of the business in the early part of the 20th century. It was revived in the late ’90s with a close approximation to the original recipe. While craft beer in North America usually means new breweries experimenting with an eclectic mix of styles, Europe more often sees cases like this, where successful and established brewers pull from a deep back-catalogue.

Naturally, the beer pours a light amber gold that reminds me of fairly light honey. On the nose I get plenty of the aromas of flower-based honey, backed by a slight funkiness and bitter orange peel. The flavor comes through surprisingly dry with a subtle reference to bubblegum balanced by a touch of hop bitterness. A final fermentation in the bottle turns any residual sweetness into alcohol (eight per cent by volume) and gives the beer a refreshing mousse — and keeps it well clear of cloying.

Spring also brings the return of warm afternoons and simple, fresh fruit desserts. The Bière de Miel will match excellently with both.

At under three bucks for a small bottle, this is a great example of one of beer’s strongest suits: the opportunity to try a well-crafted and world-class product without paying the price that goes with those adjectives when they describe wine.

Brasserie Dupont’s Bière de Miel, $2.95 for a 250 mL bottle, LCBO #322503

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

While wearing their trend-spotting thinking caps, other beer writers have wondered in print why Keith’s produced this new beer. On one hand, because their “India Pale Ale” is really nothing like the style should be, Keith’s has more to lose than some other macrobrewers by acknowledging the existence of craft beer. On the other hand, the end game question comes up: if regular Keith’s drinkers try this beer and like it, won’t they then turn to actual craft beers with their fistful of limited beer dollars?

I’m not really sure how to answer these questions. Maybe Keith’s thinks that craft is a trend (the decades-long history of real ale campaigning in the UK probably indicates otherwise) or maybe somebody at the multinational, brewing behemoth realised that dollars are being left on the table. Either way, the Cascade ale (and to a slightly lesser extent the Hallertauer version) is a very good beer. It will be easy to find this summer and I’ll be happy to drink it again.

First Draught: Alexander Keith’s Cascade Ale, a large-scale brewer’s foray into craft beer

For my first post of 2013, I questioned where craft beer starts and ends. In that case, I wrote about Granville Island’s Lion’s Winter Ale, a long-established craft brewery that was acquired by a much larger competitor (Molson Coors). The other route for macrobreweries that want to compete in the growing craft segment is to design flavourful beers from the ground up.

That’s what Alexander Keith’s Brewery has done with its new series of single-hop beers.

Both offerings — the Cascade Hop Ale and the Hallertauer Hop Ale —use one well-known hop variety each. Much of the bitterness and finer aromatic qualities of beer come from hops, and by choosing a single variety, drinkers get a clear sense of its particular flavours. Beers have never really been identified by their variety of hops the way wines are for their grapes, but the variation between types is similar.

Of the two, I like the Cascade Ale better. The aromas of grapefruit and citrus peel that I expect from this Pacific Northwest variety are more forceful because the beer is dry-hopped. That means the brewer adds hops very late in the process, well after the boiling has finished, so that volatile aromatic compounds don’t have the chance to evaporate.

Light-footed flavours of zest and pith continue on the palate with only a mild hint of bitterness. The balancing sweetness from the all-malt base (unlike other Keith’s beers, the Hop Series doesn’t useadjuncts) is there, but I would have liked a bit more complexity and body. Still, this is a better than decent beer, and with the Keith’s distribution muscle behind it, I’m sure it will marginally improve the selection in many places.

With all of its carbonation and low alcohol (compared to other pale ales), the Cascade Ale will do a good job of lifting fat and spicy heat. Serve it with mussels in a yellow Thai curry sauce, or with deep-fried cod tacos.

Last summer, Keith’s beat its mass-market competition to the first seat on the cider bandwagon. I won’t be surprised if the Hop Series turns out to be the leading edge of a trend that sees macrobreweries making beers that borrow tools like dry-hopping and single-hop-variety recipes from the craft brewer’s kit.

Alexander Keith’s Cascade Ale, $2.55 for a 473 mL can. LCBO #331314

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

This winter I have been walking more along the stretches of St. Clair West that I’m pretty sure want to be called Wychwood Heights and Hillcrest Village. Or at least that’s what the street signs claim. It’s getting to a be a cliche to describe a section of Toronto as diverse, but you really can walk past quite the variety of restaurants and other food businesses from Bathurst to Oakwood.

Fillipino from Manila Food is the eastern anchor for a list that runs through two of the city’s most popular Jamaican spots (Albert’s and Gerry’s), that are across the tracks from El Fogon, one of Toronto’s only Peruvian restaurants. And that’s just the first two blocks. Further west there are stops for churrasco (the now slightly less dingy Churrasco of St. Clair) and tapas at the fun and affordable Mezzetta. The Stockyards and Catch Restaurant both made that list of Canada’s 50 Best Restaurants that Macleans published and the Wychwood outpost of Pizza e Pazzi has been warmly reviewed and covers the all-important “casual Italian fare” base. In between there is the usual mix of brunch-esque bakeries and Asian spots that each cover the cuisine from at least two countries.

After Arlington and almost to Oakwood there is a family-owned, Italian butcher shop called Macelleria Atlas that deserves more attention than it gets. The store-length meat counter has plenty of the usual suspects from grilling steaks and boneless chicken breasts to a wide variety of fresh sausages. Whole rabbit is wrapped discreetly in brown paper and there are some slightly uncommon off-cuts like pigs’ trotters in there too.

But because those sausages are made in house, the open refrigerator case across from the main counter also has tubs of hog casings for those who want to try to make their own. Naturally, the butcher will also break down pork shoulder for you.

Dry-cured salami from Macelleria Atlas.

The real gem, in my experience is the dry-cured version of the house sausage. It’s a simple Italian pork salume seasoned with just salt and coarse black pepper, but it’s brilliantly delicious. I’m going to need a bit of detour to describe why this claim is (slightly) more objective than just me saying “mmmm tastes good.”

In Lucky Peach IV Ben Wolfe had a piece called “American Microbial Terroir” that was high-grade crack for me and my fellow food science nerds. He ordered five dry-cured salamis from specialty salumerias across the States, ran a taste test on them and then put them under a microscope to link specific microbial colonies to preferred flavours.

What does that have to do with Macelleria Atlas on St. Clair West? Forgive me for quoting at some length: “Orange-yellow crusts are a good sign of deliciousness. These crusts are formed by the bacterium Staphylococcus xylosus. The presence of this species is considered a sign of excellent aging conditions and potential for high concentration of typical salami flavors.”

That’s an accurate description of what the St. Clair West salami looks like. It’s very similar to the Saucisson D’Arles that Wolfe ordered from Olympic Provisions in Oregon and that his tasters thought was one of the most delicious and complex.

World-class or not, the point of the connection with the Lucky Peach article is that these dry-cured sausages have a specific flavour that is unique to this location and “terroir”. I have seen eight-foot lengths hanging from hooks in Macelleria Atlas as they age. That’s a technique that is increasingly rare in Toronto and given the general more-is-better view on food-safety regulations, probably isn’t long for this world. Even if this butcher shop moved a few blocks away that distinctive funkiness that meets the deftly balanced flavours of pork, salt, and black pepper just wouldn’t be the same.

It’s a dangerous game to predict a long future for an established, low-margin business in Toronto. (Riverside’s The Avro was added this week to the list of businesses that have been pushed out due to rent increases.) Other St. Clair business owners have complained that the streetcar right-of-way has made the strip less busy and slashed business, but I think the three new condos tell a different story. Walking and public transit are just replaced cars as the preferred means of transportation. We are already fairly well-saturated with fast food as Tim Horton’s, Pizza Pizza, McDonald’s, KFC, Second Cup, Subway, and Starbucks (the last two twice over) all have franchises. Added to that possible lack of potential tenants, landlords will also have to take the tenaciously empty storefronts into account before raising rents.

If you live nearby, go in and check out Macelleria Atlas and try that salami. We’re not the only neighbourhood in Toronto with a traditional butcher shop and if you’re lucky enough to have one near you I recommend that you go in and find out what they do best.

A tolerance for bitterness is probably what everyone means when they speak of beer being an “acquired taste”. When you get past that, drink through everything IPAs have to offer, sour beer is the next frontier. We innately associate bitter flavours with dangerous poisons and sourness with spoiled beer (though the latter connection probably isn’t as hard-coded by evolution).  It’s worth developing an appreciation for the style of sour ales (that are that way by design and not because of spoilage) not just for the notoriety but also because they are delicious and pair excellently with food.

If beer-writing gods were really on my side I would have been able to write about the Rodenbach first and the Panil second. They are both in the same Flemish sour ale style (though Panil is made in Italy), but the Rodenbach is lightly tart and makes  a better introduction for newcomers to the style than the funkier, more complex Panil.

First Draught: Rodenbach Classic, an easy-drinking introduction to sour beer

Following last week’s post about Brasserie des Rocs Grand Cru, there was a remarkable unity to the feedback I received. It all seemed to align around the common theme of, “If you think that grand cru beer is good, then you should definitely try Rodenbach Grand Cru.”

As luck would have it, I was reading those messages while on the way to the media announcement for the Canadian launch of Rodenbach Classic on draught.

It’s the entry-level version (rather than the grand cru) of Rodenbach’s Flemish sour ale that is now available, but this is definitely still a beer worth trying. In Rodenbach’s case, the grand cru designation means that each bottle has about two-thirds oak-aged sour beer balanced with young beer. With the Classic, it’s only a quarter of the older stuff. That means that this beer is only slightly sour, and if the Panil from two weeks ago sounded like it would be a little much for you, take this gentler introduction to sour beer.

Flanders Red is an alternate name for the style, and that makes sense after holding a glass to the light and noticing that the edges of the otherwise medium-brown beer fade to auburn. The aroma of sweet raisins and stewed cherries becomes apparent as the frothy, off-white head dissipates. The first taste is of subtle sourness that continues through to a sweet-tart finish. As the beer warms, the sour edge picks up a bit, but so does the balancing malty sweetness.

Lightly sour Flemish ales are some of the easiest beers to pair successfully with food. Salads and sandwiches seem like overly general suggestions, but this pairing will work in many cases. The beer’s fine tartness will match the acidity in dressings and condiments; it will contrast with meat and cheese and it will lift fat and salt from the palate between bites. When warmer weather eventually arrives, this Rodenbach will also serve well as a patio sipper on its own.

Rodenbach Classic can be found at Bier Markt locations across Toronto and other venues such as Bar Hop, Volo and Castro’s Lounge.

Rodenbach Classic Sour Flemish Ale, available at various bars

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

I’m entirely willing to admit that I don’t know very much about Iceland. Or at least I didn’t before I attended the media preview dinner for the Taste of Iceland Festival that Iceland Naturally is putting on this weekend in Toronto. Those of you who (like me) think with your stomachs first, will be happy to read that the centerpiece of the four-day event is a four-course  $45 tasting menu meal. Judging from the preview chef Hákon Már Örvarsson has thoughtfully designed the menu and that is a very good price.

I have more information in my full story on Rickshaw—including information on the non-food events—but if you’re still unconvinced here are the photos from the delicious meal. 

Probably my favourite selection from the opening course buffet: Pickled herring with curry sauce on rye bread.

Those fritters were surprisingly light.

Apple wood smoked salmon served in a smoke-infused cast iron pot.

Delicious free-range Icelandic lamb.

“Skyr of the Vikings” for dessert includes a mousse made from cultured skim milk.

Again, if you’d like to read more about the Taste of Iceland Festival follow the link to my full story on Rickshaw.

My “workflow”* process for writing the First Draught posts is pretty simple: drink the beer, take notes, shoot a photo, do some quick background reading and write it up. This time out, that fourth step ballooned into a bit of a paranoid obsession. I was bothered by the feeling that I had missed something while searching for a unified definition of “Grand Cru” beer. But, from a living room covered in beer books (not to mention a computer screen covered in browser tabs) I can report that there really isn’t a single meaning. It sometimes means “this beer has spent time in oak barrels” and more often “this is the best beer we make.”

The St. Feuillien Grand Cru (also in the LCBO’s Spring release) is an exception on both counts. It isn’t aged and they also brew a Grande Cuvee and a Grand Cru Reserve. Bottom-ish line: regardless of what the name really means the Brasserie des Rocs Grand Cru is an excellent beer and a great deal for $3.10.

*obligatory quotations for referring to work that involves drinking alcohol, sometimes before noon even.

First Draught: Brasserie des Rocs Grand Cru

Those who market beer for a living can get a bit prickly when their product is compared to wine — except, of course, when they lift terminology directly from wine labels.

In Burgundy, for instance, “Grand Cru” is a protected label reserved for the region’s top-tier wines. For Belgian beer, “Grand Cru” sometimes indicates aging (or blending aged beer with young beer), but ultimately, it just means, “Well, we think this is pretty much the best we make.” The Grand Cru from Brasserie des Rocs is an example of a beer that deserves that lofty moniker.

From its bottle-conditioning and being left unfiltered, this beer gets a cloudy, auburn-to-dark-brown appearance. The nose on the Grand Cru shows notes that are common to most dark and strong Belgian ales: sweet and biscuity, with hints of figs, maple and wood. The first sip opens on toffee and butterscotch before moving into a dry and lemony middle that leads into a long-lasting, aromatic finish.

Take this one out of the fridge at least 30 minutes before you want to drink it, because it really needs to be around 12 degrees Celsius for all of the yeast-created complexities to come out. A wide glass that you can hold in your hand  — like a chalice, or at least a large wine glass — will also help warm the beer.

I could see this beer matching well with the sweet spiciness of Korean bulgogi. I’d also keep it in mind for desserts like crème caramel, which lean more towards the flavours of burnt sugar rather than cloying sweetness.

Those in the beer-drinking peanut gallery tend to agree with the superlative designation for Brasserie des Rocs’s top offering. Voters on ratebeer.com (a cross between the populist voting system of Yelp and the geeky weighted average of IMDb) put it in their 100th percentile.

Bottles are starting to trickle onto LCBO shelves, but this is a limited release, and ones rated this highly don’t tend to last for long.

Brasserie des Rocs Grand Cru, $3.10 for a 330 mL bottle. LCBO #305896

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

When I’m looking for a beer to write about for my Post City blog I take into account availability and seasonal timing, but mainly it’s a balance between what I think readers will enjoy and what I like to drink. I’m regularly impressed by how well-received some of my recommended beers are. In a lot of cases, I would found some of them too challenging five years ago. That’s especially true of the delicious but bitter hop-bombs that are in vogue.

This Panil is the first sour beer I’ve written about, so I’m wondering what the reaction will be like. Sours are remarkably different than all other beers. I think this one is excellent and look forward to reading your feedback.

First Draught: an Italian craft beer that brings on the funk

If readers wrote letters to me about these posts, the mailbags would pour in this week. The Panil Barriquée is sour (more on that below), made in Italy and comes in at over $14 a bottle. But, I don’t care, because this is my standout favourite from the LCBO’s spring release.

Let’s handle the whole “sour” thing right up front. Most brewers use grains, hops, strains of brewer’s yeast and other ingredients to build beers that range in quality from Honda Civics to Rolls Royce Silver Ghosts. Religious attention is paid to excluding all microbial life beyond what the brewers have added. But those who make sour beers introduce (or encourage) a ragtag crew of bacteria and yeast to the process. They make the horse-drawn buggies of beer.

Birrificio Torrechiara (better known as “Panil”) is among a new crowd of Italian craft brewers. This particular beer is made in the Flanders red style and is aged in oak wine barrels that have been inoculated with lactic acid-producing bacteria.

When held to the light, this light brown ale shows faint hints of auburn from the red-coloured malts that give the style its name. Even at arm’s length, the aroma is obvious: complex and funky, with notes of hay and horse blanket; but on closer examination it has lighter notes of raspberries and lemon zest as well.

The flavour starts sour and tart, but it’s not aseptic (the difference between a traditional dill pickle and white vinegar), and it moves through a middle full of funk, cherries and a touch of vanilla (from the barrel) to a clean finish, where the sourness returns for a lingering ovation.

“Funk” is a catchall description begging for more explanation. In this case, I was faintly reminded of a small Kensington cheese shop where the smells of hanging salami, open bins of briny olives and piles of various cheeses mingle into an indistinct but memorable cocktail.

Those cured products would be great places to start when considering what to eat with this sour ale — the tartness will cut the fat, and all that salt will open complexities in the beer. Also, when I think of “fat” and “salt,” my mind jumps automatically to fried chicken, which would be a great partner for this Panil.

If you’ve only recently gotten into craft beer and want a change from your usual pale lager, this might not be the place to start. But if you’re up for a brash, slightly out-of-control beer, Panil Barriquée Sour will be right up your alley.

Birrificio Torrechiara’s Panil Barriquée Sour, $14.20 for a 750 mL bottle. LCBO #210591

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

A detailed description of the method probably isn’t necessary since: a.) the original youtube video has been played about 1.75 million views, so I’m guessing it’s fairly widely known; and b.) I’ve gone into some detail in previous posts. Today’s post has a special focus so let’s say that a sufficient summary of the recipe is: mix dough, ferment overnight, allow a second countertop rise while the over heats with a Dutch oven inside, bake inside the closed Dutch oven for 30 minutes, and then remove the lid and bake for 15 to 20 minutes more.

Mug Shot: Golden-brown on top, but acrid black on the bottom.

The steps are easy to complete and the bread is consistently delicious: an open, flavourful crumb, inside a shattering crust that is gold to dark brown. Well, except on the bottom where it usually turns an acrid black. It’s easy enough to shave that off when slicing the bread, but the loaves would be perfect–or at least perfect enough for home-baked bread–if weren’t for these burnt bottoms.

What to do? Luckily, bread ingredients are cheap and I do this often enough that I can painlessly run a few experiments to find a solution. Before I get started I want to offer my guesses for what will work and see what you think (please comment below):

• Use a different Dutch oven: In the thousands of other blog posts about baking bread in a Dutch oven a majority of the photos feature Le Creuset pieces. (A plurality even name the brand in the recipe steps.) My collection includes ones from Lodge, Staub, and Le Creuset, but it’s the knock-off store brand one that I use for bread. It’s the perfect size (3 Qt.) for a two-person loaf (400 g flour) and has a relatively small base and gently rounded sides that make it less than ideal for browning meat, but great to give a loaf of bread a gentle push in the right shape direction. I feel like the high, dry heat and frequent use also inflict wear and tear on the pot that I’d rather not subject the fancier ones to.
• Be more careful about temperature management: Jim Lahey calls for a “500, or even 515″ oven in the New York Times”s original video. I usually heat my oven set at about 525°F and then drop it down to 475°F or so, once the dough goes in. I have the feeling that our oven runs a bit hot so I’ll monitor this with my infrared, non-contact thermometer. I’m also open to the idea that even an accurate 500 to 515 is too hot.
• Move the Dutch oven to a higher rack: By default, I keep our oven racks in the 1 and 2 slots (counting from the bottom). I can go one higher, to the middle position, and still fit the Dutch oven under the broiler. This is a widely recommended solution and makes sense since, because if the pot is further from the element it will take longer to recover its temperature after the bread goes in.
• Insulate the Dutch oven (or the bread): A cookie sheet placed under the pot might catch some of the heat from the element and either deflect it or spread it more widely. Metal baking pans are good conductors (and poor insulators) so I’m skeptical. A more complicated solution came to me through a suggestion on the Food With Legs facebook page: Line the bottom of the Dutch oven with crumpled aluminum foil covered with a flat sheet of foil. Here the insulation comes from the air trapped in the various pockets around the foil and that should be more effective than just metal. The problem is that I don’t have much vertical room to spare in my Dutch oven (the original recipe is for grilled dinner rolls) and I worry about how much foil I’d go through at two-plus loaves a week. I’ll save this as a last resort if the other ideas don’t work.

What does everyone else think? Have I missed something here? Do you have any suggestions? Please let me know in the comments section below.

The recipes I share here on Food With Legs vary along a spectrum that runs from Old Favourites straight to What the Hell Experiments. This one happens to fall much closer to the latter end than the former. I was having friends over for dinner, had plans for rich and meaty pasta and main courses and wanted to start with a salad. I figured I could lay down an acid base and get everyone salivating for what was up next. And that’s how the “probiotic salad” that combines both my wild-fermented dill pickles and spicy Sichuan sauerkraut was conceived.

I am being a bit tongue-in-cheek by using that word “probiotic” in the title. Yogurt companies have adopted it–along with belly-dancing models and stomach-shapes lines–to make a back-handed claim about their products’ health benefits. The connection between live bacteria in food and the digestive health of those who eat hasn’t been definitely established, but I’m willing place a tentative bet that it will pan out–especially when the probiotic food is cultured with more than just a yogurt companies patented strains of lactobacilli.

The complex and funky flavour is what really interests me. The dollop of honey in the dressing and handful of raisins give a bit of sweet balance to all that sour. With both pickles and sauerkraut in one bowl it’s also possible to really compare the textural contrast between two different vegetables, that are fermented with the two main methods.

Green beer annoys me. It’s a gimmick and another plank, roughly patched over a hole in the leaky SS International Pale Lager. I guess the hidden irony here is that DDC makes some of Canada’s best stouts. Many of them are good options for St. Patrick’s Day; better some would say than the Irish stouts we get here.

First Draught: Chaman, a hoppy and aromatic imperial pale ale from Quebec

This March, let’s agree to not force our beer into the indignity of wearing green. Instead, beers like Chaman imperial pale ale from Quebec’s Dieu du Ciel!, which have the ever-green flavour of hops, seem like a more appropriate way to celebrate spring.

The imperial pale ale style came out of the thriving craft beer scene in the Pacific Northwest. Lots of warming alcohol, strong flavours and an especially heavy hand with the hops characterize the type.

Chaman pours a hazy amber orange with more than a finger’s worth of off-white head. A patient and careful assessment of the aroma will be rewarded. What starts as pine resin will pass through grapefruit zest and hints of tropical fruits on its way to a calm earthiness as the head fades and the beer warms slightly. Give it at least a full minute before you take the first sip.

Chaman’s flavour accomplishes what every imperial pale ale should: a hard-fought, heavyweight match between bitter hops and sweet, bready malt that goes a full nine rounds. The strong background of alcohol (nine per cent) supports both flavours without getting in the way.

The importance of glassware is worth a specific mention here. Beer tulips or small snifters (like you might use for brandy) are purpose-built to capture the wonderful aroma of beers like imperial pale ales. Even a large wine glass will do the job in a pinch. It’s an especially bad idea to drink a beer like Chaman straight from the bottle. A lot of work goes into making it as aromatic as possible, and that effort goes to waste if it can’t open up in a glass.

Chaman is part of the LCBO’s spring release, which will begin hitting stores soon. Look for the green labels with the frightening mascot.

Chaman from Dieu du Ciel!, LCBO #309658

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

Even after talking to about a dozen of the founders of Toronto’s new craft breweries I’m still surprised how they each took a slightly different path into the industry. Some were homebrewers, or worked at big breweries, and others start with just a business and marketing plan.  The unique aspect of Kensington Brewery Company’s history is that they built their base in the back of The Burger Bar, a successful restaurant in Kensington Market.

First Draught: an American-style IPA from Kensington Brewing Company

Kensington Brewing Company’s second beer, Baldwin FishEYE-PA, needs a bit of explaining. The name refers to the densely packed row of fishmongers on Baldwin Street, around the corner from the brewery’s current home at 156 Augusta. The brewery’s Michael Gurr says: “For us, it’s about finding a connection to the neighbourhood around us through the names of our beers.”

Craft-brewed IPAs depend on hops for their bright aromas and bracing bitterness. Each variety of hops contributes a different group of aromas and varying levels of bitterness.

As they developed this recipe, the brewers at Kensington concentrated on dry hopping, using four American varieties of hops: Citra, Cascade, Chinook and Amarillo. Given that the brewery once experimented with growing its own hops (on a very small scale), it makes sense that both of its beers are hop-focused ales (a new offering, to be released in April, will be a watermelon wheat beer).

By toning down the Citra in favour of Amarillo, FishEYE’s final version strikes a complex balance between sweet and bitter. The orange caramel colour (darker than many other IPAs) is a good foreshadowing for the first taste of sweet malt, which is quickly followed by a citrusy bitterness that lingers pleasantly. The closest flavour association I can draw is homemade marmalade with thick-cut pieces of Seville orange peel.

If 6.5 per cent alcohol (not to mention a bracing 65 IBUs) seems like a bit much for a breakfast beer — no matter how well it would go with a toasted and buttered English muffin — save this for a lunch of Indian food. A well-balanced IPA pairs much better with spicy lamb rogan josh or vegetable biryani than the pale, fizzy lagers that are brewed in India and exported globally.

FishEYE will join Augusta Ale as a full-time listing at the LCBO in May. Until then, it can be found at a long list of Toronto bars that includes Bar Hop, Thirsty & Miserable, and Bryden’s.

Kensington Brewing Company’s Baldwin FishEYE-PA, on tap and in cans at various bars around the city

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

Rather than just (re-)introducing this beer I’m going to offer a relevant and quick lesson on reading the LCBO website. The product page for the Nostradamus Belgian strong says that it’s discontinued, but the inventory page shows 1,800 bottles (a very rough estimate) spread across 65 stores. That’s a hell of a lot of beer for a special season release. For regular listings the discontinued notice means that the LCBO no longer adds to their inventory of that product, in that packaging format. For the seasonal release beers or brewery feature beers it seems to just mean that a product is from the previous cycle. In this case, Nostradamus was part of the winter release and the spring release has started to roll out.

Beer is a fragile product, so the discontinued notice might often be a good indicator to steer clear. With its higher alcohol and low hop bitterness I’m less concerned about the Nostradamus and may pick up a few bottles myself for some cellar aging.

First Draught: Nostradamus, a Belgian strong ale that’s perfect for winter stews

Last week’s First Draught focused on a Belgian-style saison from an Ontario brewery. This week, for contrast, and to demonstrate the diversity of Belgian brewing traditions, we have a beer from Brasserie Caracole in Belgium, one that’s made in the quite different Belgian strong ale style.

Nostradamus pours auburn brown with an impressive off-white and rocky head. The cap slowly fades and leaves behind those fine strands of bubbles on the sides of the glass, which official-sounding tasting notes refer to as “lacing.” The resilient head limits the aroma, but faint notes of dark fruit (raisins and dates) and a touch of bubblegum manage to sneak through. The taste continues the fruit theme with an additional hint of ripe banana. From the middle to finish I tasted a bit of alcoholic heat that should fade with a bit of aging.

For a country with a population less than Ontario’s, Belgium has an impressive list of “national dishes.” Chocolate, waffles, moules frites and carbonnades flamandes all have iconic status. That last one, a beef and beer stew that should really be known by its Flemish name, stoofvlees, could do a lot worse if you poured a bottle of Nostradamus into the pot. Other braised or roasted meat dishes — lamb tagine with dates, for instance — will go very well with this ale.

Nostradamus is one of the last members of the LCBO’s class of winter releases still on shelves in strong numbers. At over 9 per cent alcohol, and with a limited dependence on hops for its flavour, this beer won’t be hurt by its time spent in stores.

In predicting this beer’s future, I think it’s safe to say that it should find more complexity and a calm confidence after a year in your cellar.

Brasserie Caracole’s Nostradamus, $3.40 for a 330 mL bottle, LCBO #307553

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

I’m into another series of catching up on the cross-posting for my beer stories from Post City. They’ll be a few more coming over the next week and also some back-to-the-usual recipes and other food stories for Food With Legs.

Bottle-conditioned, in a larger format, and a not-very-hoppy saison; I think this beer from Oast House represents three of the main directions we’ll see North American craft beer move in over the next couple years. I still love The only thing it’s not is barrel-aged. I still love a high-IBU pale ale for afternoon sipping, but saison and biere de garde (the other style in Oast’s Farmhouse Series) are becoming my favourite dinner beers.

First Draught: a saison from Niagara-on-the-Lake’s Oast House

New breweries seem to sprout up in groups. The once-dry Junction now has two; new ones are opening in Muskoka and now Niagara has a few. Last November, Oast House joined Silversmith Brewing Company in the growing club of breweries in Niagara-on-the-Lake. The Farmhouse Saison is a notable selection from Oast House’s small portfolio of beers.

The two beers in Oast House’s Farmhouse series (the second one, the Biere de Garde, will be released soon), are bottle-conditioned for at least two months. This treatment gives the saison a cloudy haze that lends a glow to the dark straw colour. The aromas and flavours twist together spicy notes like clove and cardamom with fruity notes of orange peel and banana. There is a good deal of European-style hops in the background that leads smoothly into the refreshing, dry finish.

Historically, the saison style (originating from the French-speaking southern half of Belgium) was made in the early spring and stored for summer consumption during the busiest time of year for farm workers.

That said, I think saison’s ability to pair with just about any food helps it break free from the seasonal typecasting more than other hot-weather beers like wits and weissbiers. The bottle-conditioning provides a lively carbonation that cuts through the grease from fried foods; the fruity, herbal and floral notes contrast with darker meat flavours; and the slight hop bitterness keeps spicy food in line.

I look forward to sampling more of the brewery’s offerings, like the Barnraiser Country Ale and the Crop Duster Belgian IPA.

Appropriately for Niagara, Oast House partners Cian MacNeill and Mike Berlis are both accredited sommeliers with winery backgrounds. The brewmaster and third partner, Kevin Somerville, helped get Niagara College’s brewmaster program off the ground.

If you can’t make it out to Niagara-on-the-Lake, the Oast House saison is also available in Toronto at barVolo, The Rhino and Indie Ale House. Other beers from the catalogue are carried by Tequila Bookworm, Wvrst and Bar Hop.

MacNeill sees what he calls the “new Niagara” as encompassing more than just wine (or even beer), but also distilleries, restaurants, food trucks and markets that are about “diversity, creativity and ambition.”

Niagara Oast House Brewers Farmhouse Saison, $11 for a 750 mL bottle at the brewery

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

La Terrible is the subject for the second of three First Draught posts that I’m catching up on re-posting this week. This ale, brewed in Quebec, in the Belgian style is another to add to the list of beers worth sipping in contemplation. That we’re now well into the fourth month for these “winter warmers” has me contemplating the arrival of Spring.

I’ll offer a note on serving this beer that I didn’t get to in my original post on Post City. Like with sparkling wine the two goals to consider when opening a cork-and-cage bottle are: that as many of the bubbles as possible stay in the liquid; and that no one takes a cork to the eye. The in-bottle fermentation has created gas that wants to expand and push the cork out (though not as much pressure as you would find in a typical bottle of champagne.) While opening the bottle keeping it pointed towards the ceiling and away from other people. After the cage is removed, grip the cork tightly in one hand and turn the bottle with the other—not the other way around. The beer should be served in a chalice (a large wine glass can stand in nicely) and will be best at a relatively warm 10 – 12°C.

First Draught: Terrible, a dark Belgian ale that is definite not terrible

Ontario’s craft beer industry has grown at a steady clip over the last three years, and while the gap is closing, we’re still playing catch-up with our neighbours to the east. Since 1990, Unibroue (now owned by Sapporo, via Sleeman) has been one of the leaders of a class of Quebec breweries that borrows heavily from the Belgian playbook.

It seems that every Ontario student who spends a summer studying French in Quebec picks up a taste for the regular Unibroue staples like Blanche de Chambly and La Fin du Monde. But once they leave their twenties behind, they should be willing to move up to more complex, special releases like Terrible.

I’m going to simplify things a bit here, but if German beers are known for their austerity and strict adherence to style, and if Americans are known for a heavy hand with flavourful hops, then the Belgians have carved a niche for themselves with beers that highlight the aromas and flavours derived from their particular strains of yeast. These are enhanced with the (entirely acceptable) addition of spices and other flavourful ingredients. As a strong, dark Belgian ale bottled on lees (a dose of the yeast is added to each bottle), Terrible fits that description.

The suggested serving temperature for Terrible is between 10 and 12 degrees Celsius, so it needs a glass that will allow heat from your hand to warm the beer. A chalice, tulip or snifter would all work well.

Once poured, this beer shows as a very dark brown with a black centre and a light mocha head. The smell has the sweetness of raisins and plums, accented with a bit of bread yeast, and the flavour pulls this together with toast, fruit cake and a hint of vanilla. Even at 10.5 per cent, the alcohol is only a subtle note on the finish, but the heavy carbonation one expects from a Unibroue beer is obvious throughout.

When trying to pair this beer with food — and this is a dinner beer much more than a just-shoveled-the-driveway beer — think about where those dark fruit flavours would be most comfortable. A crisp-skinned duck breast with a Madeira sauce or a Moroccan lamb tagine would top my list.

Unibroue’s Terrible, $10.95 for a 750 ml bottle, LCBO #288720

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

Over the next few days I’ll be catching up on re-posting the First Draught columns from January and February that I haven’t gotten to yet. Looking at all three, a common thread that stands out is how much variety there is between various winter beers. I think there is an impression that stouts and porters with their black colour and heavily roasted malts are the most appropriate choices for cold weather. The contrary idea that has been confirmed in my mind as I’ve gone through my choices is that the more accurate thing to say is that winter beers are about warmth.

Alcohol gives a perceived sense of warmth and actually stouts (except the imperial versions) tend to be weaker and weigh in below the somewhat standard 5% abv. It’s more of a stretch, I guess, but it’s also fair to say that winter beers tend to come in bigger bottles—this one, Shipyard’s barley wine, is packaged in a 625 ml bottle. I imagine there are solid production-side considerations here like cost, marketing, and ageability, but from the consumer perspective a bomber calls out to be shared. Shared beers for when we’re inside with friends and family; smaller individual bottles for the outside months on the dock or patio.

First Draught: a barley wine from Shipyard Brewing

By featuring Shipyard Brewing in the fall of 2012, the LCBO gave customers another snapshot view into how advanced the craft beer scene is south of the border. The Pugsley’s Signature Series Barley Wine stands out as one of the more memorable beers from the lineup.

The line between beer and wine can blur at some points, but the easy way to define the difference is to say that any non-distilled alcoholic beverage that is fermented from grains soaked in water is beer, while an alcoholic beverage made from fruit juice is wine.

In short, barley wine is beer that is as strong as wine. Some other examples in the category top 14 per cent, and combine that with the larger size (barley wines often come in 750 mL, wine-style bottles) and you have a beer that can pack a heavier punch than a six-pack of Coors Light.

Even though this beer is from Maine, the indicators that it’s made in the English style start with the very dark brown colour and the slightly sweet aromas of dark caramel, molasses and a touch of raisins. The taste is nicely balanced between a figs-and-plums sweetness and a roasted, dark chocolate bitterness. Warming alcohol heat lingers on the finish.

The LCBO’s website lists the Shipyard’s barley wine as discontinued, but there are still many Toronto locations with bottles in stock. As I’ve discussed with some of my other selections this winter, the high alcohol content in barley wine gives it the potential to age well, so it shouldn’t be too much of a concern that these bottles have been on store shelves for a couple months.

Shipyard’s Pugsley’s Signature Series Barley Wine, $7.95 for a 625 mL bottle, LCBO #288969

Originally published here on postcity.com. 

I was particularly pleased two years ago when I won the competition to be the blogger judge for the San Pellegrino Almost Famous Chef Competition Canadian regional competition. It meant sitting on a judging panel with James Chatto and Claire Tansey, but also getting to meet and talk to some of Canada’s best aspiring culinary talent.

As part of this year’s programme a collection of the recipes from the 2011 and 2012 entrants has been published as a free e-cookbook. I had a chance to spend some time reading and cooking from the book and want to share my thoughts about it.

Culinary school students–especially when they enter competitions–seem to choose recipes that lean towards the fancy and French. For better or worse, that means no tacos. And it also (generally) means a central protein, supporting starch, and vegetable only as garnish. A minority of the recipes break this mold, but for the most part this is a lineup of classics that we don’t often see recipes for.

The 13 main recipes cover uncommon meat options like bison, duck, foie, and cod. We’re also introduced to cool and unusual techniques like tea-smoking for scallops and flavoured rice.

Not easily bothered by the thought that I might sound like a broken record I’ll say again: More Canadian recipes need to list more of their ingredients with measures by weight. Brown sugar, butter, and flour are all musts and others like vegetables (particularly for ones like onions, cabbage, and carrots that can vary drastically in size) would be better off that way. I hope the fact that some recipes in this collection give weights for things like pancetta and potatoes indicates an improving trend.

A second, more practical complaint is that I get the feeling that all of the specified internal temperatures have been goosed upwards to meet silly, government-suggested standards. For instance, duck breast will absolutely not be medium-rare if cooked to 155 F (a reliable forum thread on cheftalk.com puts medium-rare (where I would) in the low-130s, after resting). I get it, chefs and experienced students will shrug and say that they cook small pieces of meat to touch doneness, but that doesn’t cut it here. If you’re going to put out a cookbook for home use either it should tell us how to do it your way or have temperatures that will deliver the stated results.

If you’re cooking in a situation that requires extra care consult your own reference, but I’d pull the duck at 128 F, veal and bison at 130 F, lamb at 127 F, and pork at 135 F to get them to the stated level of done-ness by the time they finish resting. Venison is a special case that needs to be treated differently if (and this is unusual) it is actually wild rather than farmed.

I played around with the recipes from Winston Lin for pork tenderloin and braised cabbage; and Jean-Francois Daigle for Honey Seared Bison Tenderloin with Apple Parsnip Puree. Both are clearly written and helped me produce delicious meals. The cabbage and apple and parnsip puree could both serve as standard preparations in most rotations.

This is a thoughtful collection of recipes that are worth trying and you can’t argue with the price (free). The cookbook and the competition are great ideas worthy of our applause. Having met many of the participating students and tasted their food I’m confident that Canada is blessed with a deep pool of culinary talent.

The Canadian regional competition happens at the end of this month and I’m happy to get the ball rolling with a contest for a $150 gift certificate to Lee Restaurant. Download the free e-cookbook, have a read and tell me which recipe you’re planning to try. One randomly-selected winner will get a $150 gift certificate for Susur Lee’s King West restaurant Lee courtesy of the San Pellegrino team.

Follow me and @AFChefComp and tweet the following: Hi @ortdavid from the @AFChefComp cookbook I’m going to try the YOUR RECIPE HERE. Please enter me to win $150 at Lee. http://ow.ly/hy2d6

Replace YOUR RECIPE HERE with a brief version of the name of the recipe you’re interested in trying. One entry per person. The contest will close on Friday, February 15, 2013 at 5 PM. Good luck.

Fine print: One entry per person over the whole length of the contest. (I reserve the right, at my own discretion, to disqualify entries that appear to use tomfoolery (e.g. multiple Twitter accounts for one person) to make an end-run around this provision.) If you already follow me you need only complete the second half of the task to be eligible. I will use random.org to select a number and, counting from the first entry, that will determine who wins. I will get in touch with the eventual Winner to handle prize fulfillment.