Dine and Dish

Nestled in Leslieville, Kubo Radio is a cozy Asian Pub and Eatery with a comfy, creative vibe. Kubo offers $3 pints, friendly service, and an amazing menu, as well as catering and delivery. We took refuge on a windy Thursday night, and were instantly warmed up by the red-and-black decor and candelit atmosphere. Sitting pretty at a high window table near the sweeping velvet curtains that block drafts from entering with customers, we split a plate of 'Wham, Bam, Thank You Yam!,' ($6.95) delicious sweet potato dumplings served piping hot with crispy dough and a maple-ginger glaze. The 'F.O.B' ($13.95) Vegetarian Chow Mein, was flavourful and packed with veggies, and the 'Ice Ice Baby' ($13.95) Vanilla Thai Curry was sweet and unexpected. The only disappointment of the meal was that they were out of the Curry Vegetable Roti, but that gives us an excuse to return to this cozy east-end eatery. With a large menu full of veggie and meat options, like Peking Duck, Jerk Chicken Stew, and Striploin with Beet Chips, this restaurant takes comfort food to an exotic new level. This is the perfect place for a relaxed dinner with an old friend, or a good creative choice to impress a first date.

894 Queen St. E
416-406-KUBO
http://www.kubo.com

by Keri O'Meara
You know that hangover, the one where all you can do is eat? By eat I mean consume only grease, fat and meat. Well I get those a lot. So I was super excited when Stampede Bison Grill moved into my Queen West Hood. My first mistake was going sans hangover, but eating as if I had one. The two bricks in my stomach after completion of my meal were just not worth it.

After purchasing a cheap bottle of tempranillo at the Brock liquor store next door, I joined the hungry herd in line at Stampede. The young woman behind the counter wearing a brim flipped cap- circa early Fresh Prince of Belair episodes- was hurried and answered my questions reluctantly. I am sorry but wouldn’t you inquire about the sign saying “try our dangerously deliciously dark rum milkshake?”

“Ugh, it’s a vanilla milkshake,” she said, “with a shot of dark rum,” as if I had just asked the sum of two plus two.

I ordered the name sake. From the vast selection of toppings I chose grilled red pepper, sautéed onions and mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, ketchup mustard and stampede mayo.

“It like mayo with barbeque sauce.” Duh.

For every extra topping you get beyond your standards, it’s an extra fifty cents, including said mayo/barbeque sauce mixture.

I also ordered the poutine- how could I not?

And then I waited. And I waited some more and then I waited some more and watched people who had ordered after me walk out with their liquor store bags in one hand and greasy brown paper bags in the other. 90210 was on in half an hour I was getting antsy, not to mention hungrier than a hippo.

I asked fly girl how much longer it would be. After much fumbling and the pink haired girl at the grill swearing the order had gone out, my chit was found on the floor.

Ten minutes later after many sincere apologies and a coupon to come back and eat on the house (which with burger and poutine you can do for the price of 12 dolla) I was out the door, salivating as I rushed home to catch up with those crazy kids from Beverly Hills.

My mouth already bitter with disappointment, (I had to settle for dancing with the stars-apparently election coverage is more important than spoiled rich kids with relationship problems) I bit into a dry burger. In my hunger haste I had forgotten that bison is a tricky meat. It’s lean and tends to be quite dry. But if you have bison in your business name, you should probably make it your business to make that bison juicy.

The veggie based poutine on the other hand was de -fricken- licious and a complete meal in itself. Also, I have heard that the salads are great and at three dollars and change you can’t really go wrong. I am a sucker fro gluttonous punishment so, though it was not the best experience I will go back to Stampede Bison Grill. I want to try the beef burger and the veggie burger with tzatsiki and sprouts looks yummy. And who knows, maybe a vanilla milkshake with a shot of dark rum is a great hang over cure.

by Julie Reitsma
Perhaps playing along with the reputation he has acquired for being a bit of a bad boy, Top Chef Marc Thuet, along with his wife and partner in crime Biana Zorich, has decided to revamp his formerly eponymous space, shake up the menu, and call it Bite Me. Being rather feisty ourselves, we took that as a challenge, and, high-heeled and hungry, trod up the stairs to see what delicious culinary barbs Monsieur Thuet would throw at us.

As is the way, we first had a gander at the cocktail selection. The list at Bite Me is impressive, but, as with their wine list, which starts at $50 a bottle or $11 a glass, the prices are a tad dear. That being said, how often do you get the chance to have a Biana Bloody Bardot ($17) with actual heirloom tomato consommé? Take that, Motts!

Onto the food! With the guidance of our heavily accented (Paris? Chicoutimi?), and at times a bit over-the-top, waiter, we started with the Tartine, and, in the spirit of culinary alliteration, the Terrine. The Tartine ($15) was a healthy dose of crèmetastique Chef’s fresh sheep cheese (we’re talking slabs here), delicate slices of smoky prosciutini, perfectly ripe heirloom tomatoes all piled atop a chunk of Thuet’s bread and finished with balsamic, rocket, and chiffonade basil. The Terrine ($16) was the tiara wearer for presentation—soft pink triangles of meaty foie gras and Wild Scottish pheasant were punctuated with crunchy green pistachios, framed by drizzlings of sauce (an orange sweety and a zingy mustard), and vinager’d micro greens, all served on a swan (!), which was then, in turn, surrounded by toasted rounds of brioche. Mon dieu!

Et puis, pour les plats principaux—we went for the Sea Bass and the Three Way Porcelet. The Sea Bass ($28) came not only with earthy, squishy escargot, beautifully seared sea scallops (dived for, no less), ridiculously fresh and colourful heirloom vegetables, and a warming, rich sauce Bordelaise, but also a whole slew of cutlery, some of which left this intrepid gastronome slightly perplexed—were we supposed to skin our fish with this? Or serve really thin slices of pie? After fumbling our way through the silverware, we were ready for our next main. We realise our mind is oft in the proverbial gutter, but we couldn’t help but be titillated at the possibilities of The Three Way Porcelet ($25). Unfortunately this dish is in no way naughty, and was, in a rather ironic twist, a sampling of Mennonite farmed pork. The composition is daily created, with our selection consisting of belly, chop, and a rib, all flawlessly prepared, and served with a soft polenta, a top notch sauce soaker-upper. This dish, where the focus is so very obviously on the cochon, is not for those of you who don’t really dig eating pig.

Choosing which of Bite Me’s desserts to indulge in was a most difficult task. Though the Kit Kat Bar ($13) was tempting, and the table-side prepared Crêpes Suzettes ($40 for 2 two people) had us intrigued, we eventually decided on the Profiteroles and Crème Brûlée. The Profiteroles ($12), complete with skinny pastry swan-necks and filled with be-speckled vanilla ice cream, rested happily on a Green & Black organic chocolate sauce that was perfectly bittersweet balanced. As per our waiter’s instructions, we next dove into the Crème Brûlée trio of autumnal flavours ($14) from right to left, starting with an orange liqueur (the best of the three; the orange flavour was present without overwhelming the vanilla of the crème), a walnut (only one rogue nut was found, and while delicious, this sampling couldn’t have stood alone), and finally a chocolate pumpkin (a wonderful flavour, was almost too creamy to be a crème brûlée, despite being topped with the spoon-cracking burnt sugar chapeau).

Tongue-in-cheek name aside, Marc Thuet obviously takes his gastronomy seriously and has, with Bite Me, once again proven himself to be a top chef. The menu demands re-visiting but, stuffed to the brim as it was, and our wallets remarkably slimmer, we’ll have to wait for a special occasion before venturing back up that staircase. Then again, we aren’t quite yet in cassoulet weather—a Canadian winter may have our tums grumbling une chanson complètement différent. Bisou!

Bite Me!
http://bitemerestaurant.com/
609 King Street West
416-603-2777

Line up for Madonna tix? Sorry, we are stuck in the pizza line.

by Keri O’Meara.

I suppose I must be a sheep. I heard that people were flocking to the ‘hot new’ Pizzeria Libretto’s, and I had to follow. Libretto’s is the new hot spot, and here’s why:

Location, Location, Location. Situated on the east side of Ossington just south of Dundas, the comfortable space is the perfect place for Queen Wester's looking for a cheap glass of wine (there are actually glasses for five dollars), a straightforward dinner and a strong chance of running into their friends. That said, it’s not reserved for the west end crowd – the Summerhill set are swooshing all the way down just for a slice. That’s hot.

The bright kitchen is open where you can see Chef Rocco Agostino and Proprietor Max Rimaldi sweating as they put pizza after pizza into the huge, perfectly temperatured oven. Lime green walls, Ikea-framed pictures, wooden tables with decorative red wine stains, and chalk board archways create the feeling that you are chilling out in a friend’s kitchen. The place people always end up in. The long communal table that runs from the bar to the kitchen adds to this ambiance. I opted to sit at a single table but my Italian friend prefered the shared table, “Its like we are at home with our families!”

Loud and busy, this is not the place to go on a first date but perfect for a Sunday night dinner with your significant other or gabbing girlfriends.

The food is simple and tasty. The Calamari with red pepper and almond sauce has a delightful melt in your mouth texture, though it would have been better pan-seared rather than battered. However the menu aims to please and a lotta people like their food friend.

I don’t care that Neapolitan Pizza is supposed to be minimalist, when my sardine Pizza arrived I was a bit disappointed to see no cheese and about half a sardine per slice. The fresh basil leaves and black olives were a decent compensation and those little fish are packed with salty flavour, almost enough to get you through the slice.

The Chef uses the guidelines set by the Verace Pizza Napoletana Association and I guess this works. The pizza was deliciously soft in the middle and crispy around the edges. The crust was a touch burnt but nothing that the chilli oil our server brought to the table could not mask. I was able to eat my own pizza as well as a slice of my boyfriend’s prosciutto pizza and was not sickly full or haunted with visions of gruelling cardio workouts for the rest of the week.

You can expect to wait fifteen to thirty minutes for a table but the hostess is very open and accommodating. While you loiter tummy grumbling by the door, scrawl some witty banter on the chalkboard and wave at all the people you know.

An espresso-packed cappuccino and a three dollar Canoli with light lemon flavouring was the perfect way to end the meal. Cocktails, a fantastic bottle of Primitivo, our meals and a 20% tip all with a price tag of one hundred and twenty dollars. That said, if you skim on the booze you can easily chow down for a mere twenty buck.

by Julie Reitsma

When Coca, baby sister to well-loved Czehoski, opened in 2006, the west-end foodies of Toronto were all a tingle with the tapasibilities. Our first visit last year, in the name of bonne fêterie, was a satisfying experience, with a divine Horse Carpaccio and Mixed Olives the highlights. Sadly, at least to this carnivore, the horses will continue to romp about the fields intact this fall, as Coca’s menu has changed, and will continue to change, with a whole slew of new and fanciful items to check out.  

Perched high next to the windowed garage door, we pondered, and, having made our selections, settled into our glasses of Ilex Macabeo ($10), looking forward to a leisurely Sunday feed. Within minutes we had every single thing we ordered cluttered in front of us, and while this doesn’t necessarily affect the quality of the food, it should be noted that Coca needs to maybe rethink the delivery.  

Aptly described by our dining partner as the mac n’ cheese of couscous, the Israeli Couscous with Spanish and Southern Cheeses ($12)—toasty crust topped and steaming when met with a spoon—was perfect comfort food for our rainy day visit. The wee pearls of cous (‘cause you know that each grain is a singular ‘cous’) pop in your mouth, as the cheeses reveal themselves one at a time—alternately sharp and creamy, layered, complex and delightful. The beautifully presented White Bean Velouté with Duck Serrano, Fennel Pollen and Almond Oil ($11) kept with the comfort theme, though could have been warmer. Curls of duck serrano, bobbing about next to the greenish trickles of oil, were not only pretty, but added a salty meatiness to the white bean purée which, if our buds are correct, was zinged with a warming dash of cumin. 

Having made some room by clearing out the Velouté bowls, we focussed our attention on the Basque Mussels with Peppers, Cava, Tomatoes and Garlic ($15). Generous chunks of bread were the perfect sop-up fit for the broth, which, though not abundant, was delicious. The mussels, despite being on the wee side, were cooked to near-perfection and were complemented beautifully by the cava and always welcome garlic. Fried New Potatoes with Bravas Sauce ($9) were a tad shrivelly, but maintained a soft interior puffiness. The tomato-based sauce, offset with a lemon aioli, eclipsed the spuds, and became the true focus of the dish, with the taters and spare bread from the mussels being used as sauce-to-tum conduits. Grilled Coca with Chorizo, Asiago and Fig Jam ($12) rounded off the savoury side of our meal. Smoky, salty and sweet, this pizza-esque offering smelled amazing and was only marred by oiliness. 

The only real disappointment of the evening should have been the sweetest part of the meal. The Citrus Tart with White Chocolate Mousse ($8), even though shared by two very dessert-friendly dames, was left unfinished. Spot-on kalamansi filling flavours could not make up for what it lacked—the pastry seemed underdone, the mousse was a tad strange, almost bread-like, and we were left, on a whole, not overly impressed. 

The menu at Coca will continue to adapt to the seasons, and as the produce available in our markets changes, so will Executive Chef Nathan Isberg’s dishes. While we had really been looking forward to some thin slices of Mr. Ed, and Coca does need to work out how much change is good change—call us tradicional, but a Mediterranean tapas restaurant without the olives just seems wrong—we appreciate that each time we go to Coca will be a brand new foodventure, even if we aren’t completely addicted quite yet. 

Coca Tapas and Wine Bar
783 Queen Street West
416-703-0783
www.cocatapas.com 

by Julie Reitsma
It’s no secret that the making over of a restaurant can turn a once fine establishment into nothing more than a hot mess (yes, we’re looking at you, Food Network). So, when we got the call for a fancy media dinner—think moleskins and feather boas—at Crush Wine Bar to celebrate the redesign of their space and menus, we were curious if we’d catch Igor and his demo team sneaking out the back door. Thankfully, Crush avoided that décor black-hole, and the space, done up by Giannone Associates, is funky (upside-down wine bottle light fixture), whimsical (Lucille Ball à la grape-stomp greeted us upon entry), and intimate (turn the lights down low).

Food-wise, Crush’s Executive Chef, Michael Wilson, has ventured into gastro-pub territory, with modern takes on British fare (sadly minus the spotted dick) all the rage. The bar menu, with its Bangers and Mash ($12), Cornish Pastie ($9), and a well-rounded fromage list that involves a “Stinky” selection, also includes a few toasty nibbles, such as Potted Shrimp ($7), lemony fresh and topped with micro-greens, and Welsh Rarebit ($6), the most fabulous of topless grilled cheeses, drenched in Guinness and Worcestershire.

Having finished our pint of McAuslan Cream Ale (a hard choice with three crafty beers on tap), and brushed the bread crumbs and wee shrimp bits off our lap, we headed into the dining room to sample a bit of this and that from the dinner menu. Starters include the Bubble and Squeak soup (surprisingly flat and silent, but seriously delicious) ($9), and the Fish Pie—toasty, pastry goldenness overwhelming the pot and our hearts—could be a full lunch, but still manages lightness. The filling (no pun intended) of flaky halibut was beautifully accented by fennel and garlic, with a counter-balance to the creaminess provided by a side of celeriac, red onion, and parsley.

Moving to mains, the Arctic Char, delicately flavoured with a light citrus sauce, was served with fresh from the earth heirloom veggies, with colours so garden glorious that it’s evident that Crush really does stand by local farmers and produce. Joining other options, such as the Pumpkin Ravioli ($22) and Chrisandrea Farms Pork Chop ($30), is the Braised Eschol Veal Breast with Onion Gravy ($27), a dish which, despite some perhaps too-bitey swiss chard, provoked a torrent of adjectives, including “succulent” and “orgasmic,” and was described as both a river of meat (in the good way), and so tender that it was fall off the…itself? Accompanied by one of the many fabu wine choices on offer (Crush is still a wine bar, after all!) and, depending on how vocal you are, you could have yourself a really serious “When Harry Met Sally” style moment.

The best way to end your British culinary caper is to top ‘er off with some pudding. The Summer Pudding, served with fresh local berries, devon cream (swoon), and topped with a crisp yummy sesame curl, was tasty, but would perhaps be a better fit, due to its breadiness, as a sweet breakfast dish. The Sticky Toffee Pudding, served with home-made ice cream (all of Crush’s ice creams and sorbets are made in house), has got that traditional, caramelly, flavour down to a tee, and will leave you with enough of a delightful sugar rush that you may not need that end of meal espresso.

With words like “bubble,” “banger,” “squeak,” and “scratching,” on the menu, you know you’re in for an experience. All told, the revamp works—a newfangled interior that feels different, without being unrecognizable, and a menu that gives traditional Brit dishes an escape from their boiled and bland reputation. We’re not sure if UK fare will be our most frequent craving, but it’s definitely popped back up onto the radar. To be honest, if we may be so punny, we may just be developing a bit of a crush.

She does Tomi-Kro

by Julie Reitsma
Don’t be fooled—Leslieville isn’t just for the likes of Feist or Mr. Nielsen, and Tomi-Kro, despite its Greekish appellation, isn’t all Opa (!) and souvlaki. Tomi-Kro is, on seemingly every level, a study in fusion—cuisine (Mediterranean and Asian), décor (bare-wood, cottagey bathrooms, that don’t appear to be an attempt at kitsch, belie the chic dining area, complete with over-sized paintings, exposed brick, and funky pillowed seating), and function (the presence of a large, front window consuming, bussing station was mysterious, with more sensible locations coming to mind). With this much gumption for mixing it up, Tomi-Kro had us intrigued, so we decided to attempt some fusion of our own and schlepped our sweet West Queen West ass to the East side of the block for a little taste.

We began with the Crispy Beef Dumplings; created with half-mooned wontons, these fried pockets brought delightfully punkish visions to our minds with their mohawesque edge-crimping. Served with a sweet chilli dipping sauce, the beefy interior had hints of ginger, green onion, and finished with the slightest of kicks. The Arugula salad, served with two crunchy eggplant chips that left us wanting more, was topped with feta, walnuts and a sweet chilli-esque dressing that complemented the peppery rocket to a tee. Gratis toasted pita, topped with olive oil and a smattering of dried herbs, was handy for mopping up the broth from our final starter, the Sake Steamed Mussels. Generously sized and perfectly steamed, these fresh mussels were undoubtedly the highlight of the meal. The broth, creamy with a definite miso-tang, was a sodium-lovers heaven, and the cause of two requests for additional bread.

After partaking in three starters, we decided on a shared main, and set our sights on the Sesame Albacore Tuna with Miso Fondue. The visual presentation of this dish was stunning, with the seed-crusted tuna precisely placed alongside vibrant edamame hummus, and topped with a sprinkling of flower petals. The concept of this dish was what had appealed us to it, however the tuna, though on the right side of rare and not badly flavoured, suffered the same fate as the hummus in being relatively bland. The aforementioned fondue was, if we may delve into semantics, actually a sauce, and though very flavourful, lacked in quantity, and was suspiciously reminiscent of the, albeit delicious, broth served with the mussels.

Additional sides are available to complete your main, including a Brussels Sprout slaw that was nothing short of a revelation, and may be the key to getting any inner child to eat their vegetables. Subtle in flavour, these sprouts were shaved down, displacing the usual Brussels bitterness, and the addition of asiago and pancetta was perfect—two flavours that demand attention, the amounts of both were spot on, ensuring their presence did not detract from the overall lightness of the dish.

Tomi-Kro’s desserts are all made in-house, and choosing just one is difficult with each item tempting a different part of our palate. Though the key-lime pie was recommended, we couldn’t deny our love for cheese and went for the Whipped Brie—beautifully creamy and served with a Pernod-spiked fruit compote, berries, and some (perhaps too oily) crostinis, and the Dulce de Leche Cheesecake—walnut brittle adorned and only lacking in that the Dulce was drizzled and not, in a more concerted effort to satisfy our sweet tooth, blanketing the entire plate.

A meal at Tomi-Kro will bring out the inner chef in anyone; with such inspired concepts we couldn’t help but want to attempt the dishes in our own kitchens, with perhaps a wee more something here and a dash of that there. Fusion cuisine is, undoubtedly, rather old news on the foodie scene, but Tomi-Kro’s menu demands attention beyond epicurean trends and buzz words. The proof is, after all, in the pudding, and Tomi-Kro, having managed to disrupt a 29 year Brussels Sprouts aversion, has proven there’s yet another great reason to take the 501 outside of our usual West-end comfort zone.

Tomi-Kro
1214 Queen St. East
416-463-6677

Mains in the $20 – $30 range

by Julie Reitsma
Chandelier-filled and Baroque inspired, nyood opens up wide onto West Queen West, inviting passers by to gaze at the whimsical Commute-conceived interior. With walls made of tree trunks, and sliding panels that reveal bottle upon bottle of wine, the almost-on-the-street design offers pedestrians an opportunity to salivate and sniff at the edibles being consumed by the mostly out of neighbourhood customers, who have come down from lofty heights for a walk on the “hip” side.

With four sangrias on offer ($14 per glass or $54 per litre), as well as a plentiful list of cocktails and an impressive wine selection, you won’t be thirsty for long at nyood. We tried the dry white sangria; suspended mint and berries invite you to dive straight into the glass; and followed with the berry mojito, chockers with fruitiness—a divine slow sipper, that only needed a spoon for the tasty left-over residue. Thirst attended to, complimentary arbequina olives were the perfect nibble while pondering the menu. Sharing is caring, and nyood’s Head Chef, Roger Mooking, has constructed a small plates menu that makes your meal all about excusing your reach and can you pass us that. Friendly, freakily knowledgeable, staff will lead you through and offer up valuable opinions on which dishes are the must-tries.

The Arugula and Watercress salad ($9), served with green beans, reggiano, toasty pine nuts, and roasty tomatoes, had a peppery, earthy flavour, though the ginger, touted to be in the vinaigrette, seemed to be AWOL. The Artisanal Charcuterie ($18), served on a rustic cutting board, included four types of cured meats, all drizzled in olive oil. Bread for tearing, smooshy garlic confit, and caramelized endive, made for a very hands-on experience. Next up, the buffalo-milk mozzarella and mango crostinis ($9 and a new addition to the menu), were very colourful to behold. Though a sprinkle of fleur de sel would have been beneficial, the mango added a sweet uniqueness to the crostini experience and the mozza was definitely not the grocery store, tubbed, variety. We finished this round with the highly recommended Olive Cured Rare Beef ($15). Melt-in-your-mouth, the olive curing providing a subtle, distinct, flavour to the dish and though perhaps not an overt mouth-party straight up, the beef, when topped with the accompanying grilled fennel, became slightly addictive.

Our tums not quite full we held our breath and plunged ahead into what turned out to be the true tiara and sash wearers of the meal—the Mushroom Flatbread ($14) and the Malta Braised Short Ribs ($14). Nyood has several flatbread varieties on offer, and the mushroom was no let down. Topped to the brink with King Oyster and cremini, this fungal-based delight was so deliciously seasoned, with the subtle shroominess offset perfectly by creamy gorgonzola. Served up with whimsy in a small cooking pot and wee wooden spoon, the short ribs were like meaty manna from heaven that was beyond fall off the bone.

Finally at bursting, our bill arrived nestled amongst the pages of a 1931 edition of Bible and Talmud Stories, a quirky touch that left us wondering if the selection was intentional. Nyood will actually leave you with much to muse upon—what does the word “nyood” actually mean? Why are they playing “Girl from Ipanema” so loudly? Am I allowed to be here without my Fendi clutch? We don’t know about the first two, but we can tell you this, the clientele at nyood may be on the tony side, but the food—hands on, share friendly, and a veritable smorgasbord for the palate—is an experience that doesn’t discriminate, and isn’t contrived, even if some of the patrons’ fashion choices are.

nyood Restaurant and Bar

http://www.nyood.ca

1096 Queen Street West
416-466-1888

by Julie Reitsma
Finding ourselves, rather awe-stricken, seated across from the illustrious Sara Waxman for our dinner at Toronto’s newest carnivorous eatery, Steak Restaurant and Bar, we were thankful for the pre-dinner lavender-adorned blueberry martini and that we’d brought an appetite for something rare. There’s no ignoring New York’s influence on Steak. Walls laden with imagery from the great metropolis and a large, dark-wooded, boothy vibe, the space is high on the cozy, while still remaining quite open, with unobstructed views across the dining room available for those who find suit-watching an enjoyable accoutrement to any steak dinner.

Speaking of, while the meat on offer, as made clear by the rather obvious appellation, is definitely the intended focal point of the experience, there’s more to Steak than just beefiness. Warm rolls from Fred’s bakery, served with sweet, whipped, butter, will keep you in high spirits—if the martinis don’t—while you decide on how best to chow down. We started off with Scallops Rockefeller and were beyond impressed. Massive, snug on their spinach bed, and served on the half-shell, these scallops, due to their perfectly executed encounter with a broiler, reminded us, visually, of toasted maritime marshmallows and tasted like hollandaise-covered heaven. Also on offer, the Shrimp Cocktail, served in a romaine decorated martini glass, was as impressive as the scallops in terms of size (huge), flavour (spot on, with an authentic “of the sea” saltiness), and texture (not chewy at all).

Now to the real reason you’re here. Put on your meat-eating pants and take a gander at a menu that includes not only the classics—New York sirloin, filet mignon, and Chicago cut porterhouse—but also bison, ribs and Kobe steak. Don’t fret if you don’t feel like sinking your teeth into some red meat after your day of wheeling and dealing on Bay Street, Steak’s menu offers up fresh fish, such as salmon and sea bass, seafood, in the shape of lobster and crab cakes, as well as chicken. Deciding to not hold back and get right into the thick of things, we went for la crème de la crème—the filet mignon. Seasoned and then grilled up under the watchful eye of Michelin Star worthy Executive Chef Scott Saunderson, our medium-rare filet was plated solo. A confident move, when many a restaurant would distract focus with decoration, Chef Saunderson wants all eyes on the meat. Our filet, slightly charred, but very juicy, was melt-in-your-mouth and wonderfully peppered, if not a wee bit on the medium side of the scale.

While your steak may be served all by its lonesome, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t invite some friends for it. The sides—in potato form as baked, mashed, or fried and in vegetable form as asparagus, broccoli and rappini—at Steak are a must, and, in what adds a communal vibe to the meal—and in our case an extra reason to talk to Sara Waxman—are portioned to be shared. Mashed potatoes, with just the right dosage of garlic, are beautifully presented and the rappini, sautéed in olive oil and some more of the bulbous stuff, was lovely.

Again served in a martini glass (are we noting a theme?), the mango sorbet, with hints of pineapple, and in this reviewer’s mind, the slightest coconutiness, is a lighter, and delicious, way to end your meal. If you’ve managed to save a larger pocket of tum-room you can indulge in a very classic New York cheesecake—lessened slightly by whipped cream that seemed a tad canned—or Devil’s chocolate ice cream.

Lunch will set you back upwards of $25.00 and dinner, for mains, caps off at around $60.00. Maybe not our every day budget, but when you’re feeling a little Gordon Gekko, Steak Restaurant and Bar won’t disappoint.

Steak Restaurant
www.steakrestaurant.ca
96 Richmond St. W.
416-366-9600