Time flashes by, doesn’t it? Last weekend I was girding my loins in preparation of emceeing Terroir, the culinary symposium organized by Arlene Stein and other stalwarts of the hospitality industry. It was great fun and full of fascinating ideas but I was too busy to take notes. Luckily, Jamie Drummond and Good Food Revolution did that job admirably. Here’s a link to their report: http://goodfoodrevolution.wordpress.com/2012/04/27/terroir-vi-april-23-2012-part-1/

Meanwhile, I have so many recent treats to report, I don’t know where to begin. I’ll start with Bestellen’s burger, which really is one of the best in the city. Chef and co-owner Rob Rossi uses a combination of chuck, striploin and prime beef (you can see the meat ageing in the windowed meat locker in the restaurant) that ends up rich and sweetly beefy and attractively lean, keeping its shape nicely between a brioche bun. He adds a slice of tangy raclette which reaches melting point but stops short of actual liquefaction, and a layer of caramelized onions to bring out another dimension and boost the meat’s own sweetness.

It’s an excellent burger and doubly enjoyable with a glass of Joie Farm’s Alsatian-style blended white, A Noble Blend. I don’t think Joie Farm (they’re in the Okanagan Valley, B.C.) ever made a less than stellar wine but this Blend is terrific. Riesling, Gewurztraminer, Pinot Blanc and Pinot Auxerrois, with a splash of Schoenberger, are the components. It has a truly zaftig Alsatian body and focused, complex aromas of elder and baking spice with lychee, spice and citrus on the palate. This is a big, grown-up white wine that worked remarkably well with the burger.

Another, vaguely related gustatory happening concerns Canada’s first raisins. In 2009, Klaus Reif of Reif Estates vineyard in Niagara bought two old tobacco kilns, intending to use them to dry out grapes for an appassimento-style Riesling wine. At the same time, a local grower of Sovereign Coronation table grapes was having trouble competing with imported fruit and wondered what he could do with his unsold crop. Grapes + kilns = Canada’s first native raisins – and now they are being marketed commercially as Reif Naturals Kiln Haus raisins. They are truly delicious – robust and a bit bigger than Californian raisins but with a real fruit flavour to back up the natural sweetness. I found myself scarfing them by the handful. An extension of the line also sees them covered with a glossy milk or dark chocolate, courtesy of another Niagara company, Chocolate FX. These are definitely treats to look out for, and I love how local they are.

Next up: Adam Kreek’s fabulous green tea; Hogtown ale…

Van Houtte coffee expert Marie-Claude Dessureault and Splendido chef-co-owner Victor Barry

The idea for a meal matching dishes to coffees instead of wines began over breakfast in a famous Canadian hotel – a hotel renowned for its restaurant and its wine list and, quite rightly, for the fulsome breakfast buffet it offered its guests. There was everything from fruit salad to kielbasa, mushrooms on toast to chocolate croissants, smoked salmon to bacon and eggs – a huge variety of foods – and only one kind of coffee. Imagine only serving one kind of wine with a menu so disparate! A sommelier would despair. So why only one kind of coffee?

Coffee is like wine in many ways. Every coffee expresses its own terroir, reflecting the place where it is grown. We love the bright citrus notes in Kenyan beans, the sweeter flavour of Costa Rican coffee, the earthy, woodsy notes of coffee from Indonesia. Like wine, coffees have different acidity, intensity and body. We experience each coffee differently on our palate – salt, sweet, sour, bitter – while our noses revel in the complexities of aroma, the illusions of cherry and citrus, cinnamon and chocolate, caramel, nuts, smoke, mushroom, earth, etcetera. And just as a winemaker changes grape juice so dramatically through fermentation, so a coffee expert creates a unique product by roasting to different levels.

In short, coffee can be just as complex an accompaniment to food as wine.

In my disgruntled state, that distant breakfast time, the invitation from Van Houtte coffee to work with the company as Ontario brand ambassador seemed decidedly opportune. Van Houtte offers scores of different arabica coffees from 15 different countries: that’s plenty to be playing with if you want to start thinking about pairing specific coffees with specific foods. If I had had them all beside me during that hungry morning I might have chosen a Costa Rica Light Roast, with its subtle honey notes and vibrant acidity, to drink with my fruit salad. With mushrooms on toast, perhaps a Honduras San Luis Planes Medium Roast with its strong woodsy notes but delicate aroma and its hints of toasted bread. And to match that spicy, meaty kielbasa how about Napoletano, with its rich bitterness and dark, smoky depths?

Trout tartare

Well, one thing has led to another. Yesterday morning some of us gathered at Splendido for a lesson in professional coffee cupping from Van Houtte’s expert, Marie-Claude Dessureault followed by a magnificent six-course lunch created by chef and co-owner Victor Barry. I had presented him with six very different coffees and challenged him to create a matched dish for each one, talking it through one afternoon with him and co-owner-sommelier Carlo Catallo. We were looking for balance, contrast or compliment, connection, harmony, perhaps even an epiphany… When Victor came back with his dishes for a preliminary tasting, we were not disappointed. In fact we were thrilled!

It began with a Costa Rica Light Roast, mellow and fruity with zero bitterness but bright acidity, seved (as all the coffees were) in a stemmed wine glass. This was the match that looked the least promising on paper (coffee and fish not that well known as an ideal marriage) but it was a revelation. Victor began with fresh Ontario rainbow trout from Jim Giggy up on Georgian Bay (he brings them to town alive and knocks them on the head at the kitchen door), curing the fillets very lightly in lemon juice, Dijon mustard and chives then chopping them into a rough tartare. Close by were some drums of compressed cucumber that had been very briefly grilled on the plancha, the light charring finding all sorts of resonances in the flavour of the coffee. Dill fronds and dill oil brought out a herbal note while tiny spikes of lemon zest caught the coffee’s citrus acidity. Victor finished the dish with a cucumber relish, tiny dime-sized toasts of pumpernickel, fried capers and a miniature loop of sweetly pickled red onion. A buttermilk crème fraîche was simultaneously rich and refreshing but the overall textures were as delicate as the Costa Rican brew. It was a brilliant overture.

breakfast of champignons

Our second course featured Mocha Java Light Roast, a much earthier, woodsier coffee but still with a bright acidity undiminished by much of a roast. This time, Victor decided to play up the silvan character of the coffee with mushrooms – a dazzlingly eclectic fungal salad starring

maitaki mushrooms, raw sliced king oyster mushrooms, honey mushrooms pickled in lemon juice, shallot, garlic, olive oil and thyme and a mound of morel duxelles. The sweet earthiness of it all was amplified by whole roasted jerusalem artichoke and jerusalem artichoke chips. Tangy ramps came three ways – charred, pickled and as a soft white snow. There was a roasted spring onion and a dfark green pool of stinging nettle purée, crushed walnuts and a truffle crumble that looked like fine soil, dabs of tangy, house-made Guinness triple crunch mustard and to crown everything, fine shavings of the season’s very last Perigord truffles. It was another extraordinary dish and I loved how the coffee’s gentle, pervasive sweetness lifted the many mushroomy-truffly flavours.

Boudin noir and deconstructed Black Forest cake

Our third course starred Van Houtte’s Africana blend, medium roast – a fruity, slightly spicy coffee with audacious acidity. What I hadn’t really tasted in it was clove, until I sipped it alongside Victor’s soft, almost moussy boudin noir. There was clove in the sausage and it reached right into the darkness of the brew and found a clove-shaped bell hanging there which it immediately struck with a hammer. Amazing. Alongside this superior boudin Victor offered a sort of deconstructed Black Forest cake, components that were somehow fruity and chocolately without being sweet – a cherry purée, little shards of very bitter dark chocolate tuile, dehydrated cocoa cake like hard foam and moments of cherry compote. Hazelnut crumble and hazelnut snow added their own rich nuttiness. The clove epiphany attracted most attention but the cherry and the dark chocolate also found echoes in the coffee – another fine match.

Smoked venison and beets

On to medium-roasted Honduras coffee – toasty, and woodsy, with a hint of caramel. This time Victor found smokiness in the brew so he took some incredible red deer tenderloin, smoked it lightly with maple wood, cooked it sous vide then in the oven, and finished it by wrapping the meat in a scarf of brioche and bronzing it in a pan. The subtle smokiness mingled with the sweet juices of the meat in a perfect equilibrium of flavour and our guests from the media moaned with pleasure. Sharing the plate was a medley of sweet earthy beets – yellow and candy cane; roasted purple beets; slices of beet cooked in gastrique of sherry vinegar, honey and five-spice; raw beet shavings… There was a cranberry-port-caramel compote, a celery leaf for greens and a last moistening of pan juices flavoured with thyme, peppercorn and sherry vinegar.

For a fifth course we poured dark, bold, fruity Colombian coffee, brewed a little stronger to stand up to the intensity of the 85% chocolate ganache on shortbread crust that was our nod to dessert. Between the ganache and the cookie, Victor insinuated a layer of apricot-fig-nectarine-blood orange marmalade that picked up some fruitiness in the coffee. It was his take on a Sacher tort but the cake was almost eclipsed by the ice cream beside it – smoked burnt maple syrup ice cream with crushed candied pecans. The bold idea of cold ice cream and hot coffee worked brilliantly.

a savoury finale - stilton, pork belly and Sumatran extra bold

I wanted us to finish in left field not home base, to challenge our palates not appease them. The last course succeeded in that. We made Sumatran dark roast extra bold coffee and served it with Stilton. The wierdness of the mix forced concentration. The coffee didn’t really affect the flavour of the cheese; it was more that they sidled around each other, like prize fighters looking for an opening. It was weird and I loved it. The second component of the dish was an easier match. Victor roasted some pork belly in the restaurant’s Green Egg then bathed it in a gastrique of maple syrup, soy and sherry vinegar and tossed it with peanuts.

Thanks to Victor, the whole event was a triumph. Why not drink different coffees instead of different wines with a savoury meal? I think the idea will catch on.

A lovely new discovery on Baldwin Street (of all places), ND Sushi and Grill is owned and operated by a charming, soft-spoken and very talented couple. Went there for the $50 omakase just the other day. It was awesome value and we had the room to ourselves.

I shall be reviewing it in Zoomer this summer, but this is to tip you the wink.

Call in advance to order omakase. 3 Baldwin Street (the McCaul Street end). 416 551 6362.

Macarons at Patisserie La Bamboche - so pretty, so scrumptious

I had an email from Marc Thuet the other day reminding that tomorrow – Tuesday March 20^th – is Macaron Day! In Paris, New York and in Toronto, this is the day when fabulous French patissiers and their brilliant rivals try to out-macaron one another, when customers can score free macarons and when people who buy macarons will be actively supporting a very worthwhile cause – the Red Door Family Shelter (www.reddoorshelter.ca).

But don’t just take my word for it. Here is the press release with all the details:

Five years ago, when Michel Firanski introduced French macarons to his lineup of fine patisserie, the owner of La Bamboche located in mid-town Toronto remembers very few people knew what they were – often confusing the French macaron with the sweet, coconut based macaroon. Fast forward to today and the organizer of Toronto’s first city-wide Macaron Day will tell you that there is an absolute frenzy taking place among aficionados in anticipation of Macaron Day TO taking place on Tuesday March 20^th, 2012. “Enthusiasts have been contacting me since we announced Macaron Day – some are even taking the day off work or renting cars, in order to visit all 18 locations.” said Firanski.

Coinciding with Macaron Day taking place in Paris, NYC and other cities, Macaron Day in Toronto celebrates the delicate macaron confection in support of a local charity. On Tuesday, March 20^th, 2012, eighteen participating patisseries across Toronto will come together to offer one free macaron to customers who mention they are celebrating Macaron Day TO (with quantities limited by location). And, 25 percent of all additional macarons purchased on this day will be donated to the Red Door Family Shelter

The pride of France, the elegant macaron is made of two round meringue based cookie shells, held together by a soft filling, such as buttercream or ganache. Very fine almond powder, egg whites and sugar are combined with mastery, to create an initial crisp and airy experience, leading into the macaron’s filling – featuring whatever humble or exotic flavour can be imagined by the inspired pastry chef.

French chef Marc Thuet started making macarons in France 30 years ago and now offers them at his Petite Thuet locations in Toronto. “Over the years, I’ve tasted many macarons across France and the quality of the macarons prepared in Toronto is as good – if not better than any I have experienced.” said Thuet. “It’s great to see this kind of collaboration taking place among our talented Toronto based pastry chefs, not only for the love of macarons, but for a great cause.”

For further information, please contact: Michel Firanski 416-464-1587 or visit www.macarondayto.com .

Participants in Toronto’s first city-wide Macaron Day TO, 2012 include:

La Bamboche 4 Manor Road East 416-481-6735 and 1712 Avenue Road 416-224-5595 www.labamboche.ca

Petite Thuet 1162 Yonge Street 416-924-2777 and 1 King Street West 416-867-7977 www.petitethuet.com

Patisserie La Cigogne 1626 Bayview Ave 416-487-1234 and 1419 Danforth Ave 416-466-2345 www.patisserielacigogne.com

Butter Avenue 3467 Yonge Street 647-341-8686 www.butteravenue.com

J’adore Cakes Co. 3308 Danforth Avenue 416-691-4554 www.jadorecakesco.com

Rahier Patisserie 1586 Bayview Avenue 416-482-0917 www.rahierpatisserie.com

Patachou 1120 Yonge Street 416-927-1105 and 835 St. Clair Ave West 416-782-0122

Moroco Chocolat 99 Yorkville Avenue 416-961-2202 www.morocochocolat.com

Bobbette & Belle 1121 Queen Street East 416-466-8800 www.bobbetteandbelle.com

Ma Maison 4243 Dundas Street West 416-236-2234 www.ur2busy2cook.com

Ruelo Patisserie 4-6 Erskine Avenue 416-486-1800 www.ruelo.com

Cake Opera Co. 1136 Eglinton Avenue West 647-347-2626 www.cakeoperaco.com

Daniel et Daniel 248 Carlton Street 416-968-9275 www.danieletdaniel.ca

The Sweet Escape 55 Mill St. Building 47, Suite 102 416-214-2253 www.thesweetescapedistillery.com

Julio Bonilla 623 Mount Pleasant Road 647-716-3749 www.chefjuliobonilla.com

Frangipane Patisserie 215 Madison Ave 416-926-0303 www.frangipane.ca

Patisserie 27 401 Jane Street 416-762-2103 www.patisserie27.com

The Wedding Cake Shop 859 College Street 416-916-2253 www.theweddingcakeshoppe.com

“And the soup tonight is butternut squash…”

Oh please… What is this, 1989? Butternut squash soup? The single most boring and ubiquitous cliché of Canadian restaurants for 30 years!

And the restaurant was doing so well up to that moment. This is a place called L’Ouvrier, on Dundas, between Markham and Palmerston. DIY décor – everything painted white except one of the tables which is red (the key), cement floor, white bucket plastic chairs which are too low for the tables, home-made-looking art (Ziploc baggies full of bits from the reno, attached to the wall), a central bar overshadowed by lights that seem to be classroom models of the atom. And yet… it’s spacious and comfortable and not too loud and the music’s okay if you like Coldplay and the art kind of grows on you and the server seems to knows what’s what. The tap water is decanted into an old Bulleit bourbon bottle, which strikes me as a nice touch.

But butternut squash soup? Oh I see… The kitchen is being ironic. L’Ouvrier means “the working man” and the choice of soup is deliberate – the most mundane workhorse known to frugal chefs, proudly proletarian. Or then again, maybe it’s sensational soup – the apotheosis of butternut squash purées, a potage that will change my view of the dish suddenly and forever. Should I try it, just to make sure? Nope. Let’s move on to printed matters. I don’t ever remember seeing a menu that began with a burger but also offered a six-course tasting menu ($50pp). Unfortunately, you have to book it ahead, so first-time visitors like me can never experience the chefly magic. Never mind, there’s plenty to be going on with.

We start with half a dozen small, smooth, briney oysters from New Brunswick’s St. Simone Bay. They are lovely and don’t need any amelioration so I end up tasting the black pepper mignonette, the horseradish, and the sambal of red pepper, garlic, shallots and sugar all on their own – and very good they are, too. I’d like to take home a jar of that sambal.

The list of starters begins with duck confit croquettes which are salty but delicious – forked duck confit meat, mashed up and fried. Chef (and co-owner) Angus Bennett serves them with crunchy, gently pickled Jerusalem artichokes shaped like little bricks (a brilliant idea), a well-dressed watercress salad and St. John’s chutney. This is not a Newfoundland recipe – it comes from Fergus Henderson’s restaurant in London, England, called St. John – or more precisely from Henderson’s cookbook Nose to Tail Eating (page 192) and is a tangy compote of apples, tomato, shallots and spices. It’s good with the croquettes and it also underlines the philosophical allegiances of Bennett’s kitchen more subtly than the restaurant’s name or the giant photograph of no-nonsense World War Two army cooks on the wall. To further prove his loyalty, Bennett offers a smoked ham hock terrine – rich, salty, glossy as spam but much more delicious, cut into thick slices and served with crostini, a mild picallili relish and a clump of celery hearts and pea shoots – green, earthy flavours that are a perfect counterpoint to the terrine.

Main courses are no disappointment. Ontario farmed rabbits taste like chicken when compared to wild Newfoundland or English animals but L’Ouvrier’s rabbit leg is notably tasty and tender – the best bunny I’ve had in ages. Bennett pairs it with a soft wild mushroom risotto that is quickened with greens and parsnips both roasted and fried as crispy ribbons. He also knows what to do with great big Qualicum Bay scallops, searing them and then surrounding their delicately flavoured, opulently textured personalities with the intensity of chorizo and preserved lemon, a salad of fennel, parsley, tomato and black olives, and a mound of Israeli couscous in a sweetish tomato sauce.

Yes, there’s room for dessert. We share a toblerone mousse that comes in a Mason jar topped with red berry coulis, whipped cream and chocolate chips. The presentation is deliberately blue-collar and so is the idea of taking a candy bar and deconstructing or resurrecting or reconfiguring it in some cute way. Like butternut squash soup, it’s a cliché that has lost any charm it once had. Still, chocolate mousse is easy and can be made well in advance of service. I just think dinner at L’Ouvrier  deserves a more interesting epilogue. It’s a pleasant room and the food is good. I’ll be going back.

L’Ouvrier offers brunch on Saturday and Sunday, and dinner every evening except Mondays. Find it at 791 Dundas Street West (at Markham), 416-901-9581. www.louvrier.ca

Canada's three Master Sommeliers, Jennifer Huether, John Szabo and Bruce Wallner

On Tuesday night, the disconsolate blue-and-white crowd that streamed out of the Air Canada Centre and past the soaring glass façade of Aria Ristorante were unaware that a contest was under way, behind those lofty windows, of a much more subtle and hard-fought intensity than anything the Leafs have provided of late. The Iron Sommelier competition, 2012, came folded into a VISA Infinite dining event – and that meant good times for the audience of 150 eager food-and-wine lovers. Not only would they have a superb meal at the hand of Aria’s Executive Chef, Eron Novalski, they would also taste the wines chosen for each course by Canada’s three Master Sommeliers and then vote on which of the three deserved the title of Iron Sommelier.

I was to share the MC duties with the excellent and always amusing Nick Keukenmeester from Lifford wine agencies which had provided the portfolio of dozens of spectacular wines from which the competitors could choose their matches. By some deft and ruthless manoeuvring I was able to shuffle off the lion’s share of the work onto Nick’s shoulders, leaving myself with a single duty – to describe the dishes themselves.

And so we began, milling about in the restaurant, sipping 2002 Feuillatte Grand Cru Blanc de Noirs Champagne and nibbling on Chef Novalski’s awesome canapés: confited duck tongue with duck egg aioli… Green olives stuffed with duck meat, veal and sausage then breaded and fried… Wicked little duck breast spiedini with orange sea salt (“speedies” are all the rage in Western New York State’s more fashion-forward bars these days, and are certainly coming soon to a restaurant near you.)… Duck prosciutto crostini with apricot chutney and shaved foie gras… Have you spotted the theme? Yes indeedy. Every course was to feature duck and of the potential wines available to the sommeliers, the vast majority were Pinot Noir. The white Pekin ducks, incidentally, were generously sponsored by King Cole of Aurora, Ontario, a hugely successful, righteous farm that lets the birds lead clean, happy, outdoor, organic lives.

Nick introduced Canada’s three MSs, and I was delighted to see that he was perfectly prepared to take the mickey out of them, as they were out of each other. So it was a merry contest from the outset and I was left free to torment Nick whenever I could think of something. John Szabo MS (uber-consultant, whose latest project is STOCK restaurant in the Trump tower)  looked splendidly virile in the black, embroidered dolman and pelisse of a Hungarian hussar, though he had left his shako, boots and sabre at home. Jennifer Huether MS (o.i.c. MLSE’s wine program next door at E11even, the ACC, and everywhere else) was all charm and good-magical-energy but with a rapier for a palate and cool acuity where the public’s preferences are concerned. Bruce Wallner MS (lately of Paese) was the joker of the pack tonight, though he is a man on a serious mission to turn Ontario on to excellent wine.

Course number 1

Ma foie...! (image marcpolidorophotography.com)

Chef used duck foie gras to create a slightly Italianized version of a classic French foie gras mousse, served in a most original way. That Italian component comes in right at the beginning when he marinates the whole foie gras not in Cognac or Armagnac or Calvados – but in a grappa that has been aged in port casks. After an hour or so he strains the grappa off into a pan, pours in some chicken stock, adds bayleaves and peppercorns and brings it to the boil. The cool pink foies are lowered into this hot bath to relax for a while. Then they are separated again and allowed to cool down to room temperature before the foie is put back into the liquid and they go into the fridge. It all sounds like some elaborate day at the spa. Then the foie and its fat is buzzed in a food processor together with a great deal of butter – to be finished in a pacojet. By now it’s a mousse – you would be too if you had endured such treatment. Eron spreads it out across the whole plate like hummus and then adds crazy extra flavours – orange peel that has been dehydrated and then ground to powder; crispy sage leaves for earthiness and baby shiso leaf for mentholated tang; crispy duck skin, deep fried then crumbled over the top; and dehydrated cherry, like the weightless, chalky “berries” you get in a packet of cereal, partially powdered, partially crumbled over the top.

I was able to pass on instructions about how to eat it. Eron had baked some foccacia and turned it into crostini. He suggested we all just broke a piece off and wiped it right through the plate so it picked up a little of everything. Pop it in one’s gob – and while the flavours are still ringing and resonating around the palate try one of the wines and pay close attention to what happens.

All three MSs chose a Pinot Noir – each wine a star in its own right. Jennifer went for Barnett Savoy 2010 from California’s Anderson Valley. It was far more sophisticated than I expected with complex swirls going on under and around the vibrant cherries. It was such a good match it seemed to disappear in the welcoming embrace of the foie. John’s Pinot was a magnificent old Burgundy – Louis Jadot Corton Pougets Grand Cru 2002 – the most delicate red Corton of all. He urged us to think about texture and he was right – silk on silk – heavenly but, again, so perfect a dancing partner for the mousse that I lost sight of the wine behind the foie’s broad back. Bruce’s wine came from Niagara – Malivoire Mottiar Vineyard 2009. Cherries all over the place, but there was a distinctive Niagara vibrancy to it – an acidity that was different and alive – as if this wine was playing an electric guitar while the other two were playing in the strings section. It was a great match but it also let the wine stand out in its own right. It got my vote.

Course number 2

Duck consomme (image: marcpolidorophotography.com)

Our next dish was a (possibly unintentional) homage to the Marx Brothers and their immortal movie, Duck Soup. A great consommè always begins with the bones, of course – in this case, roasted and then boiled into a brown duck stock with a mirepoix of carrot, celery, onions, cinnamon, allspice, rosemary and thyme, all simmered over eight hours. Chef let it cool, then strained it, then boiled it up again, this time adding a little gelatin, orange zest (one of the ubiquitous secondary flavours of the evening) and some pat chun sauce (like a tangy, citric hoisin). To clarify it, he froze the soup, wrapped it in cheesecloth and let it slowly thaw at room temperature, drip-drip-dripping through a perforated pan. The result was a beautiful consommé, clear and the colour of dark honey – like the chunks of topaz shoeless children try to make you buy in the Atlas mountains – and with layers of flavour that go on for ever.

Three tortellini bobbed about in the soup, filled with a smooth mixture of confited duck, grated parmigiano reggiano and a pailful of porcini mushrooms that had been cooked down with roasted garlic and puréed. He finished the dish with some chopped chives and just a droplet of truffle oil that created an invisible, intangible ambience of truffle hovering in the air about a foot above the bowl.

Soup is a notoriously tough match for wine (cold and hot liquids rarely work well together) but the MSs were unfazed. John began by pointing out that the consommé was basically an umame bomb but that the tortellini might be the key bridge. “There is also umame in wine,” he opined, “when grapes are perfectly ripe or even over-ripe…” His choice was a white Alsatian show-stopper, rich and heavy, sweet and complex, the Zinck Rangen Grand Cru Tokay Pinot Gris 2007. A gorgeous wine, but I found it too big and sweet for the surprisingly delicate soup and the subtlety of the tortellini. Bruce took a totally different route, using a very rare and prestigious sparkling rosé from Franciacorta, the Ca del Bosco Anna Clemente Rose 2004 (a wine that retails at $219.95 a bottle). It showed magnificently and was brilliantly refreshing with the dish, and perfectly capable of singing its own song clear and true against the complicated orchestration of the dish. But did it actually add anything to the moment? Was there a sublime epiphany? Not so much. Jennifer took yet another route into the soup, picking up on the savoury, umame, mushroom, truffle components in the consommé with a classic match – a mature Burgundy with its own delicate, earthy, mushroomy notes, the Louis Jadot 1er Cru Beaune Theurons 2006. Bingo! A great balance of texture and intensity. The Beaune got my vote.

Course number 3

Pasta - basta! (image marcpolidorophotography.com)

The pasta interlude. The pasta in question was hand-made cavatelli, one inch long, sturdy and filling. The sauce…? Well of course it was all about the sauce. Chef Eron made a marvellous duck ragu, first roasting whole ducks until they were brown then braising them slowly for six or seven hours in a mixture of red wine, veal jus, tomato paste and a mirepoix of vegetables. When they were done, he took of the duck’s skins and forked off all the meat from the bones, He strained the braising liquid and added it to the meat, then passed the vegetables through a mouli and added them, too. Then he started a new sauce with onion and garlic and fresh tomatoes, folded in the ragu and just before serving added a couple of spoonfuls of mascarpone to add extra richness and silkiness of texture. As a final flourish he roasted chestnuts, froze them, then grated them over each dish as it went out.

John declared this rich ragu to be the toughest match of the evening, though not the most complex. He chose a Carrick Central Otago Pinot Noir 2009 from New Zealand – a smooth, perfectly balanced Pinot Noir that seemed to slide gracefully over the surface of the food without ever making much contact with it. Bruce also went to Otago for his Pinot, the Felton Road Cornish Point Central Otago Pinot Noir 2010, a wine that still showed the clumsiness of youth, needing time in the bottle to achieve perfect integration. That clumsiness, which revealed itself as a separation of the wine’s components – glorious cherry and berry fruit up front, acids and tannins swirling in a little late to the party – was exacerbated by the dish but I thought the match was actually more interesting with the tannins and acids managing to penetrate the textures of the dish, letting the fruit reach out to the sweet duck and spices. Jennifer found a Pinot Noir from Sonoma, the Freestone Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir 2008. This wine is another beautifully knit smoothie with a great balance between the tangy, ripe red fruit, vibrant acidity and minerality. That vibrancy managed to handle the richness of the ragu – in my opinion, the best match of the three.

Course number 4

The breast (image marcpolidorophotography.com)

The main event. Someone asked me, “Why ducks on the menu tonight?” I tried to explain by asking her to imagine the shoreline of a great continent, the place where the land of food meets the ocean of wine. Armies of foodies ceaselessly roam the land; great navies of wine aficionados bob about on the seven seas. But in between lie vast tidal flats – lonely  and unvisited places, silent and wet under the infinite sky. But look there…! Far away across the miles of shining mud – distant figures are at work. It’s the sommeliers. They make their living where food meets wine, filling their string pouches with the glistening treasures they discover, collecting unique knowledge and original ideas. It can be a solitary place and they find companionship where they can – especially with the shore birds – the eiders and harlequins, the velvet scoters, the oldsquaws and goldeneyes – all the marine ducks – like the sommeliers, as comfortable on the water as on the land. I’m sure that’s why we had a duck menu.

And why, for our next course, Chef Eron worked with the breast, rubbing it with a dry marinade of liquorice, allspice, cinnamon, pepper, thyme and bayleaf and then sealing it in a vacuum for a couple of days to contemplate the error of its ways. When the meat was truly contrite, he cleaned it and then rubbed it with a second, fresh marinade of the same spices, but this time they had been toasted to mellow their pungency. Then the breast was quickly seared and sliced and the meat was arrayed over a velvet cushion of puréed celeriac and Gala apple, enriched with cream, thyme, bay and peppercorns.

There was also a tiny perfect brick of polenta that was mixed with butter and Parmigiano when it was still in its stirrable infancy. Eron spread it out onto baking pans and put it in the fridge to solidify. Then he cut it into rectangles and pan-seared them to reactivate the cheesiness.

As the evening’s token vegetable we had fennel poached in milk, then laid gently onto the polenta cake, only to be smothered in breadrumbs and cheese and gratineed under the merciless flames of the salamander. The sauce was a Veal jus with cocoa in it that was rich enough pass for a mole. There was a dusting of pink peppercorn powder around the plate and a final crumble of raw cocoa nibs – primal chocolate as a dark, savoury spice.

Such a complex, profound, tricky dish, with so much going on! The MSs did not let us down, working with three very serious Pinot Noirs. Jennifer chose an Australian star, the Kooyong Mornington Peninsula Estate Pinot Noir 2010, a very smooth and well-integrated wine that relied on fruit to make its statement. Bruce chose a huge Pinot, the Sequana Pinot Noir Dutton Ranch 2008 – a great wine in which he detected even caramelized notes. To me, the food exaggerated those hints, making the wine oddly sweet. This time John aced the round with a wine he described as “the most old-world of the new world Pinot Noirs,” Adelsheim Willamette Valley Pinot Noir 2009 from Oregon. This time the food gave the wine a leg-up and then they continued to climb towards the sun in a slowly turning gyre.

Jennifer Huether, Iron Sommelier, 2012

So who had won? My vote was just one of 150. While the numbers were tallied we feasted on. Debbie Levy of Dairy Farmers of Canada introduced a cheese course of aged Lankaaster (Ontario), Le Mont Jacob (Quebec), Avonlea clothbound cheddar (P.E.I.) and Bleu d’Elizabeth. I had lots to say about dessert – a layered verrine called Ciocolatto e Caramello created by Aria’s pastry chef, Melanie Harris. She loves salty things almost as much as sweet and this delectable little item reflected that. Layered from the bottom up was salted caramel-white chocolate mousse; pure salted caramel; a 77%-cocoa dark chocolate mousse then a very dark (99%) ganache. On top was a chapeau of espresso-flavoured whipped cream and on top of that a magic white powder, soft as talc, made from pure olive oil. Only a total dessert nerd would attempt to consume this layer by layer. Most people just dug in, enjoying it with a dazzlingly well-chosen drink – Bowmore 12-year-old single malt whisky, Islay’s most elegant malt.

Ah, but by now the results had been tabulated. No 2^nd and 3^rd was announced – just the name of the winner: Jennifer Huether. It was a most satisfactory conclusion to a fascinating evening.

Three cheers for the Admiral

Admiral Sir Edward Codrington GBC RN (1770-1851) was not one of Nelson’s original Band of Brothers – the captains who fought under him at the Battle of the Nile – but he certainly belongs in the broader Band. He commanded HMS Orion heroically at the Battle of Trafalgar, went on to become Captain of the Fleet, fighting the Americans, during the War of 1812 and later defeated the combined Turkish and Egyptian fleets at the Battle of Navarino. So it’s no wonder that there should be a London pub named after him – the Admiral Codrington on Mossop Street, a quiet backwater around the corner from the posh Chelsea neighbourhood of Sloane Avenue and Draycott Place, home to Daphne’s and Bibendum and other renowned and ludicrously expensive eateries.

            Many a London pub has closed its doors in recent years; others have struggled to reinvent themselves as restaurants. “The Cod” does so with distinction, retaining the proper ambience of a pub in the bar while adding on a long dining room at the back, decorated in a cheerful but dated 1990s style and featuring (who knows why?) a retractable glass roof. The roof was closed recently when I had dinner there with my daughter and her fiancée and we sat in a comfortable green velvet booth and told each other outlandish stories.

            I was impressed with the service and with the food. The menu is eclectic but nothing we ordered was anything less than excellent. I started with tender squid rings that had been deep-fried in a crisp, robust, fish-and-chip-style batter then smothered in finely sliced green chilies and chopped scallions and strewn with coriander and salt. The scrunch of batter and the tongue-tingling hit of chili proved distractingly pleasurable.

The artichoke splayed

            Clams can so often end up like little nubbins of India rubber snipped from the blunt end of a pencil – especially those tiny palourde clams that usually meet their maker as spaghetti vongole. The Cod, however, steams them to a becoming tenderness and piles them in their shells into a bowl of lightweight but intensely flavoured broth featuring flecks of smoked bacon, chopped shallots and fresh, sliced sage. It’s heavenly, slicked up with a final knob of butter and, but for the necessary work of extricating the clams, the whole thing would be gone in a trice.

            I don’t often see a whole globe artichoke on a menu – certainly not in February – but we ordered it and were not disappointed. The picture gives some idea of the attractive presentation – outer leaves pulled off leaving the heart like a conical alien bloom. The kitchen serves it with a thickly emulsified vinaigrette for dipping and a deliciously stiff walnut aioli. And I couldn’t resist seeing how they did a Welsh Rarebit. Pretty good, was my verdict – nicely seasoned with Worcestershire sauce, the melted cheddar rich and bubbling on crusty brown toast though there was too much Dijon in the recipe… Ah, but my WR standards are impossibly high having been set long ago by my Grandmother’s impeccable version.

            Mains took matters to a new level. I had the Cod’s cod – a big fillet of moist white fish that parted into juicy petals at the touch of my fork. The fish had been thrice coated – once with a layer of tomato purée, then with a waistcoat of mushroom duxelles and finally with a green blanket of breadcrumbs, parsley, thyme and grated parmesan that held together under the heat. A most accomplished dish.

            Grilled Dorset lamb cutlets were the cod’s equal – the meat good and lamby with a sweet layer of fat and the proper, slightly chewy texture that speaks of actual grazing in green pastures. A gratin of very thinly sliced swede reminded me how much I love the flavour of that particular root (we call it rutabaga here) while caramelized onions and salty little capers completed the dish.

            Desserts are usually worth waiting for when you eat at a pub – definitely so here. Sticky toffee pudding was almost too sticky, almost too buttery and too thoroughly drowned in toffee – almost. Vanilla panna cotta was as rich and slippery as a Russian billionaire.

            You can find the Admiral Codrington at 17 Mossop Street, London SW3. 020 7581 0005. www.theadmiralcodrington.co.uk.

I have always imagined John Maxwell, proprietor of Allen’s, as the most urban of men, a boulevardier very much at his ease in Manhattan, London’s West End or deepest Toronto. Perhaps he might occasionally be found in a wide-open space but only if it were the location of a rally of vintage Jaguar motor cars. How wrong I was. We can see from the photograph he kindly sent me that Mr. Maxwell is just as much at home in a cow pasture, especially when visiting his own herd of Dexter cattle. He acquired them last year, he tells me, and visits them, often, at their home on Wyatt Farm organics, Flamborough Centre, Ont. Dexters are one of Europe’s oldest domesticated breeds and they produce fabulously good steak, lean as venison when finished on grass and hay.

But don’t take my word for it. You can taste Dexter carpaccio, striploin, ribeye and bone-in rib from Maxwell’s own herd as part of the Steak Festival at Allen’s on the Danforth. It runs until February 25, so there is still time to indulge in the most fascinating forensic exploration of steak you will ever encounter. Maxwell assembles meat from animals personally chosen by himself from a number of different farms – many different breeds of cow, the creatures raised and then finished on many different feeds, the meat aged for many different lengths of time. Most are raised in Ontario but there is also an example of Angus from Prince Edward Island’s increasingly popular and delectable beef program, as well as bison from Quebec, USDA Prime Hereford from Nebraska and “Kobe” Wagyu-Angus from Alberta. Comparisons are encouraged.

Alongside this majestic menagerie is a dazzling wine list comprised of rare and old vintages of Ontario VQA wine. Here are bottlings you won’t find anywhere else – Reif’s Tesoro from 1995, the best vintage of the last century, Cave Spring’s superb 2005 La Penna, Hidden Bench’s 2007 La Brunante, Chateau des Charmes Equuleus going back to 2001, even a 2002 Zweigelt Reserve from Pelee Island Winery, a wine I have never tasted.

Anyone who claims to know about steak and wine has a moral obligation to participate in this amazing event. Allen’s is at 143 Danforth Avenue (as if you didn’t already know) and reservations are strongly recommended. 416 463 3086. www.allens.to/.

Three sisters, each called Margarita

Oh dear, it has been hard to find really good, authentic Mexican food in Toronto since Chris McDonald closed Zocalo and Desmond Poon retired from Duppy’s Original Diner and then Iguana. Pachuco doesn’t scale those heights but it debuts pretty high in the city’s charts, especially for people who like modmex food – the cooking of modern Mexico rather than the creaky northern and Tex-Mex canon.

Pachuco used to be called Café Madrid, a basement tapas bar owned by the three Fernandez sisters, Jais, Eren and Mali, who are also the proprietors (and front of house, marketer and chef, respectively) of the more conventional Spanish restaurant and dance bar on street level, Embrujo Flamenco. I’m not sure Café Madrid caused very much of a stir but Pachuco is more interesting. The space is tiny (32 seats) and dominated by a bar, behind which Jais mixes some really good cocktails. A sampler of three Margaritas is excellent value at $15 and the distinctiveness of the tart original version, the sweet strawberry and mint, and the yummy mango, chili and lime variations are remarkable. She also makes a long, addictively austere Mojito or there’s a range of imported Mexican soft drinks displayed, including Mexican Coca-Cola, made with cane sugar instead of the high-fructose corn syrup that, in this country, crouches at the heart of The Dark Master. Sit at the bar and you can see the cocktails being made or watch the silent black-and-white Mexican movies from the 1950s featuring real pachucos – small-time hoodlums in zoot suits. Not that you can’t see the screen from anywhere in the little room, seated at a tiny granite table in the dim candlelight.

Service at Pachuco is impressively attentive and knowledgeable. Our waiter was eager to explain the food and how best to order it. We started with a sampler of three of the five variations of guacamole on offer. Flavours were unexpectedly vague in one of them that featured smoked trout, bacon and poblano chili; a second, starring goat cheese, poblano and chewy sundried tomato was better but the best of the bunch was the blue-cheese-walnut-caramelized-shallot recipe – creamy, piquant and perfect with the excellent corn chips. Blue marlin ceviche felt a little like yet another guacamole, deconstructed this time, with slivers of the delicate fish served on a crisp round tortilla with tangy starfruit aioli and more avocado.

Bolobanes with mole sauce

Bolobanes de polo blew the marlin out of the water – a dish that reminded me of Argentinean empanadas – small soft pastry crescents stuffed with chicken and olives and served with the best mole sauce I’ve had in years, full of complex spicing, a nicely judged chili heat and just the barest hint of savoury chocolate amidst the other 25 ingredients.

Taquitos are the main event at Pachuco. Soft, moist, warm corn taquitos arrive in a prettily decorated basket that keeps them in peak condition. The filling is in a separate dish and at least two accompanying salsas make up the quorum of flavours. I ordered the huitlacoche filling – the rather slimy fungus that grows on corn and is known as “corn truffle” or, less attractively, “corn smut.” It has the texture of cooked black trumpet mushrooms and an interesting, slightly pungent corn flavour, and it makes a great filling for the taquitos. Add a trail of one creamy salsa made with requesón (like Mexican cottage cheese) and avocado, and another, much spicier one of smoked chipotle and honey, and you’re good to go, with ot without the black beans that come in a separate bowl in a dark broth with clouds of pressed cheese. Or try a different taquito  filling of beef braised with coffee and ancho… Splendid.

Taquitos with all the fixins

Desserts here look interesting, too. One of them comes in a glass with a layer of cake topped with thick lemon custard, as rich and yummy as a citrus tiramisu.

Pachuco is open Wednesday through Sunday evenings. 99 Danforth Avenue (at Broadview), 647 694 0303. www.pachuco.ca.