Hungry Games

Field Trip: The dreamy island of Aero

2013-03-13T15:43:00.002-07:00

I was sitting on a bench in a park in Copenhagen when the elderly lady next to me struck up a conversation. She was originally from Greece, she told me, but has lived in Copenhagen for over forty years. “What brought you to Denmark?” I asked. She told me to guess.

“Your husband?”

“Love would be the only reason to come here,” she said. “I certainly didn’t come for the weather.”

To be fair, Denmark is pretty cold at the end of October, which wasn’t helped by the fact that it rained practically every day for the ten days my friend and I were there (not usual, the locals assured me). But there are a myriad of reasons to go to Denmark, not the least of which is the Danes themselves. I found them to be uniformly tall, stylish, and attractive; they are also some of the warmest, kindest, friendliest people I have ever come across (though if I were tall, stylish, and attractive, I’d be pretty pleased with the world too). When I got a bit disoriented touring the endless rooms of Frederiksborg Palace, a security guard helpfully volunteered that she thought I had seen that wing already, and walked me to a different section. When we travelled to the city of Aarhus to see the famous bog bodies, the owner of the apartment we rented told us to just leave the money on the counter on the day we were to leave.

Another compelling reason would be the sleepy wind-swept island of Ærø, in southern Denmark. We took the ferry across to Ærøskøbing, a 17^th century fishing town so perfectly preserved it looks fake, like something Walt Disney would build. The twisting cobblestone streets are lined with crooked, half-timbered, Hobbit-sized houses painted in candy colours. Affixed to some of the window frames are little “spy mirrors”, which enables residents to keep an eye on any drama and gossip fodder unfolding on the street without having to be gauchely obvious about it.

We were welcomed to our bed and breakfast with tea and lacy oatmeal cookies.

The owner is a transplanted Brit who had the idiosyncrasy of being very particular about her eggs, laid by free range hens living in the back garden. The first night there were only three other guests; we were awoken the next morning by loud talking and laughing coming from the couple next door. My friend was not amused, but since we were up we dressed and went down to breakfast. That couple were the only other occupants in the dining area, where we were to serve ourselves, buffet-style. We asked the owner for more eggs, since there was only one left, and she said, “But I made five eggs for five people!” then turned and stared pointedly at the couple. I tried to quash the raucous laughter in my head.

We rented bikes to tour the island, first stopping at the bakery down the street to pick up some Danishes, or wienerbrød (translated as “Viennese bread”, as they supposedly originated in Vienna). From the day of our arrival we had been waging a “A Danish A Day: No Danish Left Behind” campaign. Wienerbrød are nothing like the sickly sweet North American version. They are lighter, flakier – basically happiness in pastry form.

We biked past many U-shaped farms, with three walls surrounding a courtyard of sorts. Wind turbines lined the shores; Ærø, in contrast to its atmosphere of being frozen in time, is attempting to become completely energy self-sufficient. We bought some apples from an unmanned stand on the side of the road, leaving the money in a basket. We made a picnic of it in the churchyard of Tranderup Kirke, a 14^th century church with Viking ships hanging from the vaulted ceiling, rather than your usual candelabras. My wienerbrød featured a marzipan filling and a poppy seed topping. It was the best pastry I’ve ever had, and I am a bit of a pastry tramp.

Afterward, we headed to the cliffs of Vodrup Klint, which descends in earthen steps down to the rugged beach. I stood on a rock, lost myself in contemplation and gazed out over the grey wrinkled sea.

And that is one of the greatest beauties of Ærø. My vacation style is one of frenetic activity, sightseeing and shopping as fast as I can. Ærø forced me – for two days, at least – to be still and surrender a little to the dreamy air of hushed melancholy.

I’m not kidding about the forced. After about 7 pm, there is not much open in Ærøskøbing. We got some groceries and had a supper of smoked salmon and rugbrød, a dark angular rye bread, spread with Danish blue cheese, and dreamed of the wienerbrøds we’d be eating tomorrow.

Hino: Where I Fell in Love with some Mollusks

2013-03-13T15:26:00.002-07:00

We decided to check out Hino (1013 Wellington) just down the street from the tragically departed Vino del Mar. Jon told me that it's a Japanese-esque restaurant, and had heard the owner just kind of opened whenever he felt like it. We showed up on a Tuesday evening at 6 (happily, it was open that night) and were the first customers.

The place is not a total dive (anyone who has ever eaten in Chinatown has seen worse) though it helped that it was pretty dark; an open kitchen and bar spanned the back wall.

The menu definitely runs towards Japanese fusion. There were spicy crab rolls on the specials board but no sushi on the menu, which basically consisted of chicken, beef or seafood done with a variety of sauces - teriyaki, curry, garlic. Prices were really reasonable (appetizers range from $6-9, mains from $13-19).

We placed our orders, and the server brought out a basket of white grocery store-style bread with a couple pats of butter. The outside pieces were dried out on one side, and I wondered why they even bothered with bread; they could replace it with something equally inexpensive but tastier. Japanese rice crackers, maybe?

We shared the scallops in ginger sauce, off the specials board.

They were so good. I know I will be thinking about them whenever I'm bored. The scallops were soft and yielding and beautifully cooked, but it was the sauce that really made me swoon - tangy with a bit of a bite. We nearly had a death match over the last scallop - or possibly just a brief Hungry Hippos duel, pistols at dawn style. I started trying to lap up the rest of the sauce directly from the dish with my fork. And that is when I became really thankful for the previously maligned bread.

Unfortunately, after the mountaintop experience of the scallops, the mains were a bit of a let down. They were fine, but not transcendent. I had the miso chicken ($13):

and Jon had the shrimp curry ($14).

The curry didn't have any bite at all, which was surprising. The miso sauce was sweeter than expected, almost with a teriyaki taste.

We could see the chef/owner cooking in the open kitchen at the back, and chatting with two guys eating at the bar - the four of us were the only customers. The chef was joking (I hope) about selling the place, and the guys were placing bids - "$50! $60!" Jon yelled from our table, "$85! And all the beer in the fridge! Except Corona light".

"I like Corona light," the chef said.

"Then we can totally do business together!"

The chef asked Jon, "Do you prefer Chinese or Japanese?" After a brief, confused pause, he added, "Beer".

"No, women," I said drily, and the guys at the bar started laughing. The chef asked me if I was Japanese (I'm not, I'm Chinese, I said. All the same, he replied) asked me my name (while hilariously ignoring Jon) and introduced himself as Terry.

"We're not dating, you can have her," Jon said benevolently, and we made our exit.

Field Trip: The Old Tavern at the Grafton Inn, Vermont

2013-02-26T18:27:00.000-08:00

If you're even moderately fond of eating and fine scenery, Vermont is a great destination for a weekend away. There's shopping, a cheese trail, cideries (cider slushies and donuts!), a tour of Ben and Jerry's complete with samples...if I haven't gotten you yet, you are not of woman born. There are charming villages a plenty, with massive country stores selling everything from the delicious to the hilariously ridiculous. We checked out Coolidge Homestead, where Calvin Coolidge lived from 1876 to 1887 (not recommended) and tried his favorite beverage, Moxie (also not recommended):

It tasted like a vile combination of ginger ale and black licorice, with accents of soap. Dave, who is a huge fan of the word moxie, and works it into varied situations whether appropriate or not ("That girl has moxie! Those hot air balloons are a sign of good moxie!") said, sadly, "I thought moxie would taste better".

Most charming of all was the historic village of Grafton, Vermont, which boasts a covered bridge and The Grafton Inn, which opened in 1801 and is one of the oldest operating inns in America.

Dave, Brandon Mir and I had dinner in their restaurant, which was very elegant but cozy:

Brandon: It's like dining with the founding fathers!

All of their ingredients are locally sourced, from sustainable purveyors. Dave had the fettuccine with roasted vegetables:

Dave: These vegetables are fresh and kissed by the Vermont sun.

Brandon: Even the root vegetables.

Dave: The plate is colourful, like the Vermont autumn foliage. It's full of moxie, but not the bad beverage moxie.

Brandon had the lobster pie:

He pronounced it soupy and creamy, with a generous internal serving of lobster.

Mir had the rack of lamb with cheddar mash:

It was as expected, though there was a distinct lack of cheddar in the cheddar mash, more a hint o' cheddar.

All in all the food was solid, nothing earth shaking, but combined with the period atmosphere it still made for a great night. Definitely recommended.

Cage Match #4: Black Cat vs. Taylor's Wine Bar

2012-10-15T14:21:00.000-07:00

...wherein your humble blogger tries to answer the age-old question, "Is a burger ever worth $20?" And *spoiler alert* the answer is a resounding yes.

Full confession: the Black Cat (428 Preston) is one of my favorite restaurants in Ottawa, and I am a bit of a restaurant tramp. I love the ambience - elegant without being pretentious or stuffy; I love the food - sometimes, when I have a moment, I'll daydream about their truffled chicken breast; I love that the executive chef is a young woman in an industry that is still very much dominated by men (Ottawa Magazine had a very interesting article on this topic here).

Every Tuesday the Black Cat features a different burger; Richard's burger (the owner) is also available Tuesday to Thursday. The Tuesday we were there, the special burger was the Backyard BBQ burger which was topped with caramelized onions and a home made barbeque sauce on a house made onion brioche bun. Richard's burger is topped with smoked bacon, sharp cheddar, pickles and "secret sauce". The accompanying frites were infused with sage and served with a truffled mayo. We ordered one of each.

Hello, Lover.

They were....awesome. So juicy and saucy and flavourful; Jon and I immediately started swooning and waxing poetic.

Jon: It's so good I want to cry.
Me: This burger has made me happier than I've ever made anyone else happy.
Jon: This burger makes me sad because it's better than me.
Me: Go accomplish something so you can be worthy of this burger.
Jon: I will never be worthy of this burger. This burger is so good I'm sad it'll leave me tomorrow morning.
Me: ....
Jon: Too far?
Me: Yes.

It was messy, we really violated their white starched linen napkins:

The frites were amazing as well, perfectly crisp on the outside with their infusion of sage, and as good as any I've had in Belgium.

Final score:

Jon: 10/10
Me: 10/10

Next up was the Genuine Burger at Taylor's Genuine Food and Wine Bar (1091 Bank St.) the sister restaurant to the Domus Cafe. Their burger is available on the lunch menu; it's $16 and topped with Blackburn cheddar, pickles and lettuce on a Rideau Bakery bun, served with mixed greens and roasted potatoes. It came accompanied by a sweet tomato chutney and garlic mayo.

It was a thick, juicy burger, the patty was pinkish in the middle; I really liked the sweetness of the tomato chutney in contrasty with the saltiness of the meat, which was seasoned. As a whole, though, it didn't cause us to become slobbering sycophants.

Me: It's good, but it doesn't make my heart sing. More of a low level hum. Or maybe a bit of scatting?
Jon: Your heart wouldn't scat.
Me: It's not funky enough?
Jon: No.

The roasted potato spears were so-so, the salad was good but it's hard to swoon over mixed greens.

Final score:

Jon: 9/10
Me: 9/10

Pop-Up Madness: Matt Carmichael's Pop-Up Venture at Mello's Diner

2012-06-28T19:01:00.002-07:00

I'm a big fan of the casual, unpretentious diner vibe, but I'm not always crazy about the greasy diner food (because working out sucks, y'all). Luckily, thanks to Matt Carmichael - chef extraordinaire formerly of Eighteen, Social and Sidedoor - we can have the best of both worlds: fresh food made with quality ingredients served in awesome plastic booths. Carmichael launched what I think is Ottawa's first pop-up restaurant Monday night at Mello's Diner on Dalhousie. Pop-up restaurants are basically temporary restaurants using random spaces (a private home, former factory, and in this case, greasy spoon diner that has been around longer than Coronation Street). I'm always up for trying new things; sometimes this works out (zip lining!) and sometimes not so much (the Ottawa Carleton Regional Plow Match!) So Ariann, Brandon and I grabbed our umbrellas and headed down for the 6:00 pm seating.

Mello's was gussied up with flowers, candles, and new lighting (sparklier lightbulbs?)

The menu was short and pretty seafood heavy.

After we ordered, they brought out a complimentary bowl of bourbon caramel popcorn:

It had a lovely, smoky, burnt caramel flavour, though I do think it could have been improved with the addition of a little Maldon salt sprinkled on top.

Me: It's Cracker Jacks, grown up!
Brandon: I must say, I am disappointed with the declining quality of Cracker Jack prizes.
Me: It's Cracker Jacks, gone posh! It's Cracker Jacks that have left their trailer park, went to Harvard and now live on the Upper East Side! It's...I'll stop now.

Next, we had the black tomato and mozzarella salad ($12) and the cod fish taco ($8)

These, too, were amazing. The mozzarella in the salad had the consistency of marshmallows, soft and pillowy and melt in the mouth. The cod fish in the taco was crisp in its light batter, topped with jalapenos and greens and a mayonnaise based sauce. It was everything that my taco at Tacolot wasn't - namely, flavourful.

For the mains, we had the caramelized black cod with peas and morels ($22), which was served in a aluminum take-out container:

and the steak frites with peppercorn sauce ($22):

The cod, for me, was the hit of the night. The fish was light and flaky, the sauce slightly sweet and the peas done al dente. The steak frites, in contrast, were, as Brandon described, "deliciously average". Cooked medium rare (the server didn't ask how we wanted the steak) it was a little on the chewy side; I would have liked the frites crispier though Brandon said he liked them mushy.

Ariann: Everything else just slid down, then with the steak we had to... (*makes manic chewing motions*)
Me: The steak is definitely not the road less travelled. Not only is it not the road less travelled, it's a 400 level highway. Complete with Timmies.
Brandon: (wistfully) It's a dream that never grew wings.

We tried the one dessert offering, a coconut caramel pot du creme:

I took more shots of our food that night than I have of various UNESCO World Heritage Sites around the globe. The Imperial City in Hue, for example, got one shot.

I'm generally not a big fan of custard, but this was beautifully creamy but light, with caramelized banana chunks sprinkled with coconut cookie crumbles.

The Mello's pop-up will be running from Sunday to Wednesday, starting at 6:00 pm, for an indeterminate length of time.

Photos were taken by myself and Brandon.

Cage Match #3: Hintonburger vs. Baja Burger Hut (with a side of Tacolot and Suzy Q)

2012-06-18T18:45:00.001-07:00

Up today: a heavyweight battle featuring the acclaimed Hintonburger vs. the 2011 winner CTV Ottawa's "Best Burger" contest, Baja Burger Shack. Hintonburger has moved into the old KFC building on Wellington, and they've awesomely kept the bucket sign:

Does anyone remember Mike Myers' Colonel Sanders rant from So I Married and Axe Murderer - "Oh, I hated the Colonel with his wee beady eyes, and that smug look on his face. "Oh, you're gonna buy my chicken! Ohhhhhhh!!!" Anyhow, we got the Hintonburger with fries ($8.75) which is a 6 oz bacon cheeseburger with their "signature BBQ sauce". We asked for garlic sauce as well.

It's a good burger - moist but slightly charred on the outside, your classic barbeque burger. In fact, it tasted just like a burger a friend would grill up for me at a backyard barbeque - a friend who really likes me, granted, but not really superior to that. Jon agreed - good burger, but not great.

Scores:

Jon: 7.5/10
Me: 7.5/10

After sharing the burger we wandered over to the Tacolot, which we've been meaning to try for a while.

Unfortunately, it was after 8 pm and they only had beef tacos left. We got the platter (two tacos, rice, salad and fruit, $10):

There was melted cheddar cheese on the bottom, then pulled beef topped with chopped tomatoes, onions and cilantro. The beef wasn't seasoned whatsoever - not even salt and pepper - and the whole thing was rather bland. Other than the bit of cilantro, the vegetables weren't dressed with anything either. The rice and beans were similarly tasteless. Never having been to Mexico, I don't know if this is what authentic tacos are supposed to taste like; I've tried the tacos at Corazon de Maiz in the Market Mall and it was pretty, blandly similar, though at least there you had five different hot sauces to try. Other than that, my experience with Mexican food is pretty limited. The last time I was at an actual sit-down Mexican restaurant was years ago at Mexicali Rosa's on Clarence St. and it was wretched, as you might expect. We gave our order, the server took away our menus and immediately brought out our (terrible) food, leading me to picture a bunch of dishes lined up in a row, waiting to be microwaved (as an aside, I went to use the washroom and didn't realize that Mexicali's shares their restrooms with Haveli next door, located off a common hallway. I came out and picked the wrong door, and ended up in this Indian restaurant, thinking, What happened???!!! Alas, I had not stumbled into an alternate dimension, my life is not that glamorous).

While we were waiting for the tacos, we went next door to Suzy Q's donuts, located in the Hintonburger's former home. An employee (owner?) walked out holding this beauty:

Hello, lover

He told us they had closed at 8, but we were welcome to have this white chocolate raspberry donut. Well, we wanted to be accommodating. I've tried Suzy Q donuts before; I picked up a half dozen over Easter and while I find their flavours creative - I enjoyed the margarita with lime glaze and salt - I thought the toppings were more delicious than the actual base donut (which did not vary between varieties). The texture is airier and spongier than I like, and - dare I say it - a bit bland.

Baja Burger Shack is a concession stand located at Britannia Beach, and you can't really beat the view from the patio:

I guess the grass fringe makes it a tiki bar? More hint o'Tiki. Tiki light? Memories of Tiki. Okay, I'll stop now. We ordered the Baja cheeseburger with fries and a bottle of water ($12.40 with taxes).

The patty was slightly pink, and while it was soft it wasn't mushy like the one at Vera's. It was also moist and juicy and SEASONED and oh so lovely. However...

Me: The bun's really pale.
Jon: It tastes pale. And doughy.
Me: It tastes like everything we've been indoctrinated about white bread in the past ten years rolled into one doughy bun.
Jon: You have the soul of a poet.
Me: You know what doesn't have soul? Or poetry? This bun.

So all that was separating this burger from greatness was a better bun. The fries were okay; I personally prefer my fries a bit crispier, though the portion was pretty generous.

Scores:

Jon: 8/10
Me: 8.5/10

Field Trip! Belgium: Chocolate, Frites, Waffles and...Blackface

2012-05-31T09:36:00.001-07:00

So, I was away on a short holiday across the sea. I visited with some friends in London, rode a Death Coaster in Brighton (it was, erm, my first time riding a roller coaster than goes upside down, and I was disconcerted by the obvious signs of rust on the track) and took the Eurostar to Belgium, where the streets are paved with chocolate. I'm not kidding, there were chocolate shops everywhere. And oh what chocolate it was, ranging from the small and jewel like...

...to the abundantly gushing.

Forget the marshmallow. If you don't want to stick your mouth right under the faucet you're no friend of mine.

Whereas the designs ranged from the classy...

...to the Klassy.

Well...at least it's multi-cultural.

The Belgians - and actually Europeans in general - take their chocolate very seriously. The EU stipulates that in order for a product to be labelled as "chocolate" it has to contain at least 35% pure cocoa, and Belgian chocolates must be made with 100% cocoa butter, instead of the cheaper palm oil found in many lesser chocolates.

Frites are also much beloved - did you know that French fries are actually Belgian? The story goes that during WWI some Belgian soldiers - currently 40% of Belgians speak French - offered fries to some of the Americans, who probably just assumed they were French. The frites are thicker cut and double fried - first for about 8-10 minutes, allowed to sit and sweat, then fried again for a couple minutes just before serving. Believe me when I say that they are happiness in potato form. You can buy them on the street served in a white paper cone with mayo for dipping, which I never got around to doing seeing as I was eating fries with every meal. I did hit up the Frite museum in Bruges, and was deeply despondent over their lack of frites to try. Avoid it if you're ever in the area, as it contained absolutely nothing that you couldn't also see, read and learn by googling "frites" and "history of the potato" on the internet.

The waffles were equally lovely:

This was light and melt in my mouth, and needed nothing more than a bit of powdered sugar. There were waffle trucks galore (I heard there's one here in Ottawa at Bank and Fifth, must go check it out), but I found that they weren't as good as the restaurant one above, probably because they tended to have been pre-made then re-toasted. They went for two euros each topped with your choice of caramel or chocolate sauce.

The day I arrived in Bruges was Ascension Day, which is a national holiday in Belgium and, to my intense annoyance, this meant that most shops would be closed. I did arrive in time for their Procession of the Holy Blood parade, which they've been doing every year since at least 1350. When I walked by at around 2:00 people were waiting around for it, so I joined them, figuring that since it starts every year at 2:30, it would be only about half an hour of standing. What I didn't realize was that we weren't near the starting point, so it took a while for the parade to get down to us. I was standing with this very sweet elderly German couple, so I thought, well, if they can stand here for hours, I can too. The man looked at me and asked:

Man: Where are you from?
Me: Canada!
Man: Are you Japanese?
Me: No. I'm Chinese; my parents were born in Hong Kong.
Man: My daughter studied in San Francisco. There are lots of Japanese people there! But they don't have faces like yours.
Me: ....that's probably because I'm not Japanese.
Man: The town where I live, in Germany, has lots of Japanese people!!
Me: ....that's great.

Anyhow, the parade finally made its way to us, and it was awesomely, randomly bizarre. It began with a band, horses, and girls in white dresses:

And proceeded on to Adam and Eve, if they had decided to forgo fig leaves in favour of cave man style fur tunics:

And also included sheep...

...camels...

...donkeys...

...random dude in a soft serve ice cream hat (awesome)...

...bagpipes??!!!!....

Call me crazy, but did they have bagpipes in the Bible?

...and blackface.

Sorry, was too frozen in shock to get a head-on photo.

This was from a different parade, on the Saturday in Brussels. I still reeled.

Why why why why why??!!!! Is it because I'm approaching this from a North American viewpoint? Seriously, if this had happened in the States, there would have been violent rioting. Something else I discovered this trip, from a Dutch friend living in Brussels: apparently the Dutch Santa, called Sinter Klaus, has a helper named Black Piet. Who is a dude in blackface, wearing an Afro wig and big painted pink lips. He throws candy to the children, so they love him, and the Dutch are very defensive, saying that it's just a harmless children's tradition. A harmless, racist, children's tradition, rooted in Dutch colonialism. And something which Flemish culture has at least partially embraced.

I need some pretty pictures of Bruges to calm me down.

Bruges really was gorgeous, and not as relentlessly touristy as Venice - at dusk you can walk the deserted streets alone, and watch the lights shimmering in the dark waters of the canals.

Will hopefully hit up some more burger places this weekend, and be back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Cage Match #2: Absinthe vs. Chez Lucien

2012-05-08T06:11:00.000-07:00

Absinthe (1208 Wellington St. W) is one of those upscale, environmentally conscious restaurants using locally-sourced ingredients. The server informed us that they send all their kitchen scraps to the farm to feed the pigs, and then they receive the pigs back in a tastier form. We ordered their Benevolent Burger ($14), so named because a dollar from every burger sold is donated to Cornerstone Housing for women. It consists of 8 ounces of hanger steak from Mariposa Farm, topped with sharp cheddar and double smoked bacon on a house made brioche bun.

The service was really good - the server didn't emanate any barely concealed scorn when we told him we'd be sharing the burger (and when I told him I'd just have water, ha!) and the kitchen actually divided the meal for us:

Together as one portion, the serving size would have been substantial, and really good value for $14, considering the quality of the ingredients used. The fries were good - crispy and dusted with sea salt, as was the salad, which consisted of arugula with shaved Parmesan and lightly dressed in a tangy vinaigrette. As for the burger itself, the first thing I noticed was that it was so big I'd have to dislocate my jaw to get a good bite in. The patty was nice and juicy; Jon liked that it was charred on the outside. I personally thought it was a little too salty, but I'm also not a huge fan of bacon, don't own a salt shaker and rarely add salt to anything. So, take that with a grain of...salt.

Jon's big thing was that they weren't more creative with their toppings, compared to, say, the Works and their myriad of choices. He wanted something more unusual. He conceded that Absinthe's burger overall is better than that at The Works, but because the toppings are so conventional it brought his score down.

Jon: The Works is like a movie that doesn't have much of a plot but the cinematography is gorgeous. Like Lost in Translation!
Me: That movie was so slow I swear it started going backwards. Or maybe that was Kingdom of Heaven? Anyhow, I'm not feeling your analogy.
Jon: Whereas the Absinthe burger is like a movie with a great plot, but has less style. Like....the Matrix trilogy.
Me: The second movie was so bad I never bothered watching the third. Like I read somewhere once, what was so great about Zion? It was dark, and depressing, and full of sharp things that snag the one sweater you're allowed to wear.
Jon: What got me was, the humans weren't able to save any colorful shirts? The computers destroyed everything that wasn't oatmeal?

Final scores:

Jon: (patty could have been still juicier, toppings not creative enough): 9/10
Me: (too salty): 9/10

On to Chez Lucien (137 Murray St.), which I have always loved for its ambience. Isn't it gorgeous?

We got their Bourgeois burger ($12) which was topped with pear, caramelized onions and brie.

Honestly, I thought the taste and texture were on par with the Works - a bit dry, a bit bland. Jon liked that it was charred on the outside, but also didn't think the flavours were punchy enough. Value wise, you get more bang for your buck here than at The Works - fries AND salad, for a $1.50 less, though I think the Absinthe burger, while $2 more than that at Chez Lucien, is a better value due to the higher quality of its ingredients (plus $1 goes to charity, so you can feel all smug and altruistic).

Final scores:

Jon: 7.5/10
Me: 7.5/10

Field Trip! Free food tours around the world

2012-05-04T09:15:00.002-07:00

One of the drawbacks of living in Ottawa, other than the dearth of great shopping (where art thou, O Anthropologie?) is the dearth of free food opportunities. Other than the cookies at Loblaws (labelled "for children only", but whatev) and the samples at Costco, where does one get free food here? The Rocky Mountain Chocolate store in the Market usually has samples of their caramel apples (little pieces on toothpicks) but they tend, oddly, not to look too kindly on me standing there, scarfing them down, blocking their actual customers, then leaving.

Thankfully, there are other cities in the world catering to my free food needs. First up, the Miller Brewery tour in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which was hilarious. I know, Wisconsin is such a random state to visit - why would anyone go there, frankly, unless you have family there? Which I don't. To this day I cannot tell you how I ended up there. Anyhow, they opened by herding us into a theatre to watch a short film on the glorious history of the Miller Brewing Company. We were then met by our tour guide, a young woman probably in her early twenties who said, in a voice completely devoid of intonation, much like in Napolean Dynamite, "That was great. Wasn't that great?" With this contagious display of enthusiasm, she led us off to the distribution centre:

This is...self-explanatory. It's labelled on top, you see.

This was followed by the brew house, where they add the hops:

The guide ended the tour with, "I don't have a watch. Does anyone have the time?" to which two guys yelled, "It's Miller time!!" Which was....the answer she was looking for. "That's right," the guide said, listlessly, and led us off to the beer garden, where we could have three good-sized samples of whatever beer we liked, plus pretzels, and postcards we could send anywhere in the world, for free.

About an hour away from Milwaukee is Pleasant Prairie, Wisconsin, home of the free Jelly Belly factory tour.

Unfortunately, this is just the distribution centre - the actual jelly beans are fabricated elsewhere - but you get on this little train and they take you around the warehouse, watching videos of how Jelly Bellys are made:

It's rather frightening, actually.

I had no idea that it takes a good week to make those jelly beans - no wonder they're so expensive - because they generally have to sit and dry for several days between steps. And, apparently, Butter Popcorn is the most popular Jelly Belly flavour. Really? Because...ew.

They took us to see some dancing animatronic jelly beans, which were every bit as terrifying as you'd think, and some jelly bean art:

I....there are no words.

The tour ended with a bag of Jelly Bellys each, and we were set free in the store, where the highlight was the tasting bar, which was manned by a guy stingily doling out a couple jelly beans of whatever flavour you wanted. This is likely because, unchecked, people would just dump the whole box straight down their throat. Just me?

And now, for the crown jewel of free food tours: the Cailler chocolate factory in Broc, Switzerland. As someone who went to the Hershey factory multiple times as an adult, the chocolate coming from most of the world cannot compare to the chocolate of the efficient, precise, xenophobic Swiss. It was a self-guided tour, culminating in the most glorious sight I have ever seen:

An all you can eat, chocolate tasting bar. And once I had inhaled a whole tray, they immediately brought out more. If I had died the next day, I would have led a full life.

The transcendence of Swiss chocolate was more than enough to supercede the unfriendliness of the people. They weren't particularly warm, but they weren't awful either; even this one guy who served us at the sandwich counter at a train station in Zurich, whom my sister and I dubbed "Angry Sandwich Man", or ASM for short, because, well, the exchange went something like this:

Me: (pointing at the sandwich labelled "Schicken") What kind of sandwich is this?
ASM: Sandwich!

Me: Yes, but what kind?

ASM: Schicken! (and I swear, the meat did not look like chicken, otherwise I wouldn't be asking)

Me: What is Schicken?

ASM: SANDWICH!!!!!

Me: (whimpers) OK, I'll take it.

Jon and I are hitting up some burger places on Monday, and I'll try to get the posts up before I go out of town on Friday.

Cage Match #1: Vera's Burger Bar vs. The Works

2012-04-29T17:30:00.000-07:00

Vera's Burger Shack is a west coast chain based out of Vancouver, which began as a beach concession stand in 1977. The Ottawa Vera's is located in the Butchery on Richmond Rd. (3657 Richmond Rd.) and offers counter service with some tall tables and stools:

We filled out what we wanted on this handy checklist. We ordered the Vera's Burger (6 oz, $5.99) with caramelized onions (an extra $0.79) bacon (extra $1.29), lettuce, tomatoes, and Vera's sauce, which apparently is a garlic mayo.

Jon, about to tuck in

The burger, as you can see, is cooked medium rare, and charred on the outside.

Jon: This is really good.
Me: The patty is mushy. The fries are mushy. This whole meal is mushy.
Jon: This is really, really good. I'm about to drop an f-bomb.
Me: At least I don't have to chew like a chump.
Jon: Chewing's for suckers.

While Jon enjoyed it (clearly) - he thought it was your classic barbeque burger - he thought also that the 6 oz of beef wasn't substantial enough. I just couldn't get over the texture of the beef, and the sauce seemed to be MIA; you really couldn't taste it at all. Jon went and got a little container of the sauce so we could try it separately. It had the taste, and consistency, of slightly thickened milk.

Jon: It's too milky. And a bit thin.
Me: No kidding, it's frothy on top from being poured in, for crying out loud. And it's not so much garlic mayo as milk that once brushed elbows with garlic.
Jon: It's milk that once received a kiss on the cheek from garlic, who then never called back for a second date.

Our final scores:

Jon: (wasn't saucy enough, or big enough): 7.5/10
Me: (hated the mushiness, not saucy enough): 5.5/10

On to the Works, Westboro location (326 Richmond Rd.) which, as I'm sure you all know, is a home grown chain that first opened in 2001 in New Edinburgh, in the location that then housed the Fraser Cafe and now currently hosts ZaZaZa Pizza. It was sold in September of 2010 to Fresh Brands Inc., which plans to build The Works into a national chain. It's known for the sheer number of topping combinations on their menu. We picked the Roughriders Comeback ($13.80, 8 oz, with caramelized onions, BBQ sauce, jack cheese and bacon), mainly because it was similar to what we just had at Vera's.

Having the extra 2 oz of meat really made a difference to the heft of the patty. I definitely preferred the meat well done, and the burger was much saucier. I remember the Works used to have the option of having their burgers cooked medium rare, if you signed a waiver; our server told us that due to health regulations, they're no longer allowed to do that. Jon found the patty a bit dry, and wanted more grease and juiciness. Ultimately, he thought Vera had the better patty but The Works had the better overall burger, with more sauce and crispier bacon.

Final scores:

Jon: 8/10
Me: 7.5/10

Next up: Hintonburger vs. Chez Lucien

Ghetto Grub: Installment 1

2012-04-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

Before we get into our Burger Fight to the Death, I thought I would share one of our other passions: dodgy eateries. Because the best food can be had at sketchy roadside restaurants simply entitled “Restaurant”.

Westboro, as we all know, has become a homogenous yuppie enclave. One of the last holdouts is the Richmond Plaza Motel (it even has those awesome plastic bowl chairs in front of each door) and I dread the day when it will be torn down and replaced with a condo complex. I prefer a neighborhood that has a bit more of an edge, like Hintonburg, just a little ways east. It has a Bridgehead, so that we can feel virtuous as we sip our fair trade coffee, but it also still has hookers and one-armed dudes manning dodgy pawn shops....and Vino del Mar. We first noticed this restaurant because it was completely empty on a Saturday night, and it looked like the kind of place where you'd be the victim of a drive-by. We ended up eating elsewhere, but later on we thought, we must support the ghetto. If we don't do it, who will?????

The decor is a bit tired and kitschy. I love it.

As is the menu, with the ribbon threaded through the binding, like in a cheesy 80's wedding invitation.

The faux-brick adds a klassy touch.

But they did take the time to monogram the napkins!

The owner was really friendly; he told us that this is the only Chilean restaurnat in town (which was a surprise to me, as I thought it was a Portuguese restaurant for some reason. Come to think of it, where does one get Portugese food in Ottawa?) and then we had the following exchange:

Owner: Do you speak Spanish? You look like you speak Spanish.

Me: No.

Owner: Really? Are you sure you don't speak Spanish?

Me: ...

Jon (later): You should have said, I didn't when I checked this morning....

I've only met two Chilean people in my life, the owner and my former piano teacher (Mrs. Contreras, who was scary) and neither of them looked particularly Asian, but whatever.

Anyhow, on to the food. We started with an appetizer of sopaipillas ($4.95, traditional Chilean fried squash bread, as per the beribboned menu):

They were actually quite lovely. Fresh, hot, crispy on the outside, a bit chewy on the inside, with a spicy dipping sauce. Unfortunately, they would be the highlight of the meal. For the main, Jon had the perchicaga ($14.95), which was basically a bowl full of meat with fries on top:

Jon chopped it all up and mixed in some of the dipping sauce from the sopaipillas, and said it tasted better then, but was resentful at all the work he had to put in. I had the special ($11.95), which was kebobs, a salad and an empanada.

I've only had an empanada once, at the Salvadoran restaurant La Cabana on Merivale (recommended, and Vino del Mar's soul sister in sketch). The owner told me that Chilean empanadas are made from flour, rather than corn. Everything on the plate was fine, but nothing special. Overall, the food was hot and fresh and probably authentic (what do I know) but nothing I'd crave or think about when I'm bored. Nonetheless, I would encourage you all to go. Without our support, the relentless tide of gentrification will sweep away any character or interest in this neighborhood and Vino del Mar will become a gastropub. We can't let this happen, guys. Case in point: just several doors down, we walked by a shop called "Oresta Organic Skin Care Apothecary", and needless to say, once an Organic Skin Care Apothecary moves in, it's over. Displayed in the window was some skin care line I had never heard of.

Me: I have a deep distrust of anything unfamiliar. Like foreigners.

Jon: Yeah, but Nazis are OK, we know all about them!

On that note, next up will be the first installment of our Burger Quest: Fight to the Death, featuring Vera's Burger Bar and The Works.