My First Taste of Australia

Now don't bring out those steak knives, I can easily explain my absence from this blog once again! I was travelling in Australia for two weeks in May, so I kept myself low in April as I prepared for that vacation, and ever since my return I'd been tidying things up elsewhere, such as my personal blog, before I could finally update this blog. Fortunately, there have been instances from my Australia trip that require entries on this food blog, and so you'll see two more entries related to this trip. This, therefore, is the first of three entries, all restaurant reviews. If any of these entries attracts Aussie readers, welcome, and thank you for the wonderful Aussie hospitality!

Cairns, Australia is a veritable tourist town, and you may recall how I feel about dining in tourist areas. So, coming to this city I was prepared to make do with some unglamourous meals until I walked past an eatery near my hostel, Ochre Restaurant, which featured Modern Australian, or Mod Oz, cuisine. Mod Oz is basically the Australian way of calling fusion cuisine, and Ochre's menu definitely fit this category. Wanting to try things that are unique and/or special to Australia, I opted to try the Game Platter which when I ordered featured two dishes.









The first course, essentially the appetizer, definitely screamed Oriental influences. Featuring crocodile, it was cooked "salt and pepper" style, not unlike the salt and pepper ribs or prawns found in some Chinese restaurants, and served with Vietnamese-style pickled vegetables and some lemon aspen sambal (the sauce in the spoon). The flavouring was just right, and the crocodile especially was, thankfully, not too heavy on salt, a characteristic I'd experienced too often at some restaurants that do salt and pepper style meat dishes. My impression of crocodile meat is that it's as mild in flavour as chicken, though it has that watery undertone that one would notice when eating perfectly cooked white fish, but it is slightly tougher than chicken in texture. The vegetables provided a nice sour counterweight to the mildly greasy crocodile pieces that was sprinkled with pepper particularly native to Australia. I honestly can't say I could taste any difference between Australian pepper and pepper from other parts in the world, but this dish, from the pepper to the crocodile to the use of lemon aspen fruit, gave me an idea of how strongly this restaurant emphasized on using as many domestic if not local ingredients as possible.









The second (main) course featured two other animals native to Australia: kangaroo and emu. (Later on during this trip I learned that both animals are on the country's coat of arms, and Australia is the only country in the world whose coat of arms features animals eaten by humans.) Now, before some of you rail at me for eating an animal that's been idolized in Bugs Bunny cartoons, as an unofficial ambassador for Australia and even as the logo for Qantas, I must forward some trivia I learned about kangaroos. They to Australians are like what Canada geese are to Canadians. Both are symbols of their respective countries, yet both have become overpopulated, becoming grazing/foraging pests and vermin. If there are no qualms to eating geese (Canada or not), why fuss over a few kangaroos?

The grilled emu (left), cooked no more than medium, was a bit tougher than I thought it would be, but the flavour was nice, enhanced thanks to its reduction with mushrooms and topped with sliver-thin slices of pancetta. The grilled kangaroo, though, really caught my eyes and taste buds. Tender and cooked medium-rare, it was enhanced with a chili quandong glaze (pronounced with a silent "u") with halved (desert or sweet) quandongs, small, wild peaches, scattered about. The two types of meat were accompanied by some steamed bok choy, sweet potato fritter (julienned sweet potato in tempura batter) and, off-side, a sweet-potato and spinach gratin. I wasn't that crazy about the gratin, but it didn't dampen my enthusiasm for the kangaroo one bit.

Ochre gave me my first glimpse into both Mod Oz cuisine as well as Australian game and some unique ingredients, and did so quite satisfactorily. Though I now definitely expect higher standards when I reach Melbourne and return briefly to Sydney and try some of the fine dining joints there, this visit in Cairns turned out to be a promising start.

Name: Ochre Restaurant
Address: 43 Shields St., Cairns, QLD, Australia
Cuisine: Fusion (Mod Oz)
Price Range: Lunch AUS$20-AUS$50; Dinner AUS$60-AUS$80
Accessible: Yes

Bringing Bacon to Work

Dishes where meats and fruits comingle abound such as Hawaiian-style pizza, sweet and sour pork and lemon chicken. Personally, though, I'd never been a big fan of sweet (and sour) mixed with savoury until I was exposed to a couple of Italian examples, the most classic one being Proscuitto con melone, where slices of specially cured ham are wrapped around melon balls. One particularly impressive variation to the Italian theme on which I got to indulge was when I was in Ottawa last November. Between the actual ceremony and dinner at a childhood friend's wedding there was some finger food served, one of which I absolutely loved. It consisted of slices of pancetta fried to a crisp, topped with a slice of pear held in place vertically by a dab of goat cheese. I absolutely couldn't get enough of it, I'll confess!

Roll the timeline to this week. Yesterday my office had another potluck lunch, and when we first agreed to have one, my first concrete thought of a dish to make was the pancetta-pear delight. Of course, I realized using pancetta wasn't worth it in this case for a few reasons:

1. This wasn't a cocktail party, it was just a nice social gathering amongst colleagues; there was no need for me to go overboard;
2. Pancetta is more of a luxury (i.e. $$$), I wasn't certain I could get some in Brandon and I wasn't planning to do a shopping run in Winnipeg anytime soon; and
3. Most of my colleagues are not foodies per se and, as one of them pointed out to me, may not fully appreciate the more luxuriant dishes.

After thinking for a while, I realized that there was an inexpensive, common substitute that would definitely be more appreciated by my colleagues than pancetta: bacon.

Food purists can give a hue and cry all they want, but let's face it, pancetta, when broken down to its basic components, is fancy pork belly. Bacon, perchance, is also pork belly. Pork is a popular meat in marrying with fruit, so I figured, why not attempt to use bacon for my own concoction?

Still on the subject of substitution, I decided to substitute goat cheese with cream cheese. Again, price and general appreciativeness by my colleagues were key factors, though this time I decided to get some flavoured cream cheese, in this case herb and garlic, to give some added dimension. I'm not ashamed to have made such substitutions, and the fact that everyone, yes, everyone, in my office who was there enjoyed my dish should stand as testament to at least my cooking competence. Food is made to be enjoyed, and if others enjoy it, then I will have been successful.











And here are pictures of the end product! As you can see, I solved the problem of bacon being much longer then pear slices by cutting the bacon (I used the reduced salt version in this case) in half before frying the slices to a crisp over medium heat in my trusty cast iron pan and letting them cool on paper towels that also absorbed the extra grease. Unfortunately some of the slices broke laterally in two due to already weak connections in a layer of fat in this batch of bacon, so I salvaged the bacon by using the larger, intact pieces as the base with the split pieces placed on top of the pear slices. All the bacon and pear slices (about 2-3mm thick) are held in place with dabs of the cream cheese.

I started frying the bacon at ~5:30am so that I could complete this dish in time for breakfast and work, so that meant it wouldn't be eaten for at least 6.5 hours. Frying the bacon to a true crisp (without burning them) is therefore key to the success of this dish. Even after that many hours stored in a cool place to keep the cream cheese safe the bacon will still retain quite a bit of crispiness, though you wouldn't be able to hear someone chomping on these bacon-pear bites from across the room compared to when they were made fresh. Still, neither the saltiness of the bacon nor the sweetness of the pear were overpowering, and the cream cheese added just a subtle zing to it all.

I didn't bring home any leftovers, so I say it was well worth waking up earlier than usual to make this dish for my colleague to enjoy.

Gästhaus' Looks Belie Dining Experience

I must first apologize for seemingly to have neglected my food blog. Unfortunately, until the last weekend I hadn't been to a new restaurant for dinner of which to write a review, and I hadn't been inspired to try to concoct a new dish at home. However, I was in Winnipeg last Saturday, and that gave me the opportunity to try a place in which I hadn't dined before.

German cuisine is arguably not as refined in general as some of the other cuisines in the world; it tends to have a heartier, down-to-earth edge to it. Though higher-end fine dining can be very enjoyable experiences, often the cravings for something slightly lower on the hierarchy of cuisine (i.e. fine dining at the top, fast food at the bottom) come up, sometimes resulting in rewarding experiences as well. Gästhaus Gutenberger, a German restaurant in the western suburbs of Winnipeg, should make this list.

This place was recommended to me by a friend of a friend of mine who perchance has some German heritage. At the risk of sounding discriminatory, I believe that the best (or worst) food critics are those who share and know very well the same culture and/or ethnicity. This is likely because we would know our own culture or ethnic heritage best, and therefore we'd be better able to differentiate the authentic restaurants from the pretenders. So, with a friendly suggestion in hand, I made my way to try this place for dinner.

When you enter the restaurant you feel like you may have just walked through a time warp. The interior decor is evidently aged. I don't just simply mean making it look old to give it a visual touch to a German restaurant, but the interior design seemed to have been unchanged for years. Some of the railings, light fixtures and even a bit of the ceiling unfortunately showed some wear and tear as well. Where the restaurant has its weaknesses physically, it was compensated, however, by a decent dining experience thanks to a mix of service, food and surprisingly even entertainment with an accordionist occasionally strumming some tunes throughout the restaurant.

At my server's suggestion I just ordered a main course, which itself included either a soup of the day or a salad. I opted for the soup, which that night was beef and barley, which perchance had in it (surprise, surprise!) cabbage and was justd a touch on the underflavoured side. For the main course I decided to try the Schweizer Rahm Schnitzel, which was a schnitzel topped with a slice of Black Forest ham, mushrooms and a white wine cream sauce with spätzle and red cabbage. The ham added another layer of flavour to the dish but was also effective in preventing the sauce and mushrooms from making the schnitzel lose its breaded cripiness. The server's suggestion was well founded, as I found myself quite full after finishing this dish.

Gästhaus Gutenberger is a good place to just sit back, relax and enjoy some real hearty food in a cosy, if aged, setting. It could give itself a facelift just enough to make it look fresh without losing the atmosphere. Reservations are recommended as this place gets quite busy for dinner. Also, for the more adventurous, pork hocks are served here as well, but on weekends only apparently.


Name: Gästhaus Gutenberger
Address: 2583 Portage Ave., Winnipeg, MB
Cuisine: German
Price Range: Dinner Entrées $20-$37
Accessible: Yes

A Spirit of Iron Chef Moment

On my last evening in Toronton during my November trip my family and I went to Canoe for dinner. Canoe is one of several restaurants run by Oliver and Bonacini, which perchance also owns the SOMA Chocolatier found in the Distillery district. As my sister pointed out in her Summerlicious blog entry, this restaurant was definitely worth the visit. Unfortunately it was too dark for me to take pictures without the flashbulg, and the flash would have been distracting to nearby diners. So, although there's no eye candy for you to see here, I must take a moment to share what I'd call my own "Iron Chef" moment.

Ah... "Iron Chef". "If memory serves me right..." it was arguably my favourite show on the Food Network while it still was on the Food Network. For those of you not familiar, the show's host had 3-4 chefs who were arguably the best in their cuisines (Japanese, French, Chinese, and later on Italian) in Japan who would compete against a challenging chef in Kitchen Stadium. Each epsiode a different challenger comes forth and both opponents must cook dishes with a theme ingredient of the day. Creativity and thinking (or cooking) outside the box has typically been seen favourably by most of the guest judges on that show, and sometimes the theme ingredients themselves require chefs to be super-creative in their cooking; ever thought of using foie gras in creating Japanese dishes?

Now that I've described the show in a nutshell, I must now explain why I felt I experienced an "Iron Chef Moment" as I'll call it. More specifically, I felt like I could've been in a guest judge's position (or perhaps I could be as wacky as Chairman Kaga, who knows?) when I had my dessert at Canoe. That night, I'd tried arguably the most avant-garde dessert I've ever had to date in my 20-something years of life: foie gras tart.

Yes, you read that right, foie gras tart... a dessert tart where the main ingredient is duck liver. Now, duck ethics aside, to an average person the thought of using foie gras, a savoury ingredient, as a dessert item seems unconscionable or outrageous. Of course, I was surprised and admittedly quite amused, so I asked the waiter about it. After the explanation, including the reassurance that the foie gras itself would be mild in taste, curiosity got the best of me and I decided to try it. Besides, with something as unique as this, how often could I experience such dishes?

Topped with cherries, the foie gras tart didn't taste like what I'd expected it to be. The flavour of the foie gras itself was subdued, and it was generally sweet. The slight saltiness of the foie gras, along with the soft, melt-in-your-mouth texture, was actually to me more reminiscent of a saltier version of a cheesecake. It definitely tasted richer than a cheesecake, and surprisingly the flavourings got along well.

In the end, what's my verdict about it? Well, first of all, full marks for creativity. There's no doubt about it that this was rather an unusual presentation of foie gras, yet this ingredient was used successfully in an audaciously unorthodox manner. As for taste, I'd give it high (but not full) marks. Again, the flavours went well with each other in the tart, and I'll admit that another mental barrier about food has been broken, but it was a tad bit saltier than I perhaps would've liked in a dessert. Furthermore, I think health concerns have now gotten the best of me. Foie gras literally is translated from French as "fat liver", and trust me, even you'd only want to consume them sparingly. It is more because of that that I find it hard to see myself trying it anytime soon, and it doesn't help that I managed to gain two pounds in two weeks' time by the end of this trip (that's way faster than the "Frosh 15" rate).

Though I may not touch foie gras in a while, I trust that I can try something new and/or unique again soon; creativity in this world, be it in food, the arts or any other field, needs to be continuously explored. Let this also be a lesson to you out there. There's no way for sure that you'll like or dislike something until you try it. Sometimes it takes a bit of guts (pardon the pun here) to jump that mental barrier, but sometimes there can be surprising rewards in the end.

A Mercurial Ending to a Good Day

My Tuesday in Toronto was a good one, starting off with lunch with a university buddy at diner called Fran's Restaurant, going to a live taping of CBC's The Hour with my sister, and ending the night with a dinner with her at Bar Mercurio, an Italian restaurant previously discovered by my sister, as explained in her review in her food blog (you'll notice we both have the same pictures, as my camera was used). Located on Bloor Street West just west of the St. George subway station it's in the midst of the University of Toronto (according to my sister, it's actually in UofT's English building) and in close proximity to the ROM and Queen's Park. I'll admit we really wanted to try Nota Bene first that evening, but we couldn't get a table for the time we wanted there; considering En Route ranked it the best new restaurant in Canada this year, I'm looking forward to my next return to Toronto to try this joint.

Two things I noticed right away when I entered Bar Mercurio were the following: first, it was a small, packed house, and second, there was an open kitchen further up the bar counter, allowing the aromas of the dishes being prepared to permeate and mingle in the air with the babble of various conversations amongst diners. One thing I began to feel a bit disappointed about after we sat at our table was the wait for service at times. Perhaps since we were in a small corner of the restaurant away from where most of the tables are we weren't attended as quick as I expected, especially when it came to the serving of our dishes. That gave us some more time though at least to enjoy the bread basket offered to us. The focaccia was chewier than what I expected (and especially chewier than my sister's version), but the tuscan bean dip was a nice touch, a departure from butter or even the more stereotyipcally Italian oilve oil/balsamic vinegar dip. As I chewed I also noticed how this place covers the linen tablecloths with large sheets of paper; if the paper can actually keep the tablecloths clean, I don't know which has the more detrimental environmental effect, the constant use and replace of the paper or the daily washing of tablecloths.








For starters I had the salad of the day, a baby spinach salad with seared chicken breast, red grape tomatoes, mushrooms and a warm gorgonzola dressing. Historically I have not been a fan of blue cheese, but I actually enjoyed and appreciated how the flavouring was not too strong for me. The raw grape tomatoes added a sweet dimension to the salad countering the saltiness of the dressing, but the chicken breast itself could have perhaps been cut into smaller, more bite-size pieces.








For my main course, at the suggestion of my server I had the pappardelle with duck ragu. Bonita suggested I try one of the pizzas at this place, but since they were apparently big pizzas (large enough to be easily shared between two people), that would have meant leftovers for sure, a bit of a problem if I'm leaving in a few days; she would not like me to leave stuff in her fridge, I'm sure! To be honest with you, this was the first time I've had pappardelle as well as a ragu on pasta. I had an amusing time trying to "twirl" the pasta around my fork (easier said than done compared to fettucine and spaghetti), and I noticed that ragus are heartier and have considerably less liquid than pasta sauces. The duck ragu was nicely flavoured, the meat all shredded up to better coat the pasta, and the sprinkle of grape tomatoes were actually cooked, allowing bursts of tangier sweetness to come forth between bites of pasta.

Aside from the unexpectedly slow service (my sister assured me that it wasn't like that the last time she was here), I enjoyed this place. Being small means tighter spaces (not to mention reservations being highly recommended), but it also means a warmer and more intimate atmosphere. Food can be seen prepared right before your eyes, and the wait staff were friendly and helpful. I can see why my sister was eager for me to try this place as well.


Name: Bar Mercurio
Address: 270 Bloor Street West, Toronto, ON
Cuisine: Italian
Price Range: Dinner Entrées $15-$26
Accessible: Yes

Creating Stories with Food

Montréal... though like Toronto it's a cosmopolitan city, it has a different feel to it for some reason. Perhaps the European influence is just a bit more prevalent here. Perhaps it's the differing geography of these two cities. Perhaps it's the people in Montréal who have just a bit more of the joie de vivre mentality, which definitely complements my "don't work too hard" belief. Whatever it is, Montréal definitely has its share of fine dining joints that one can argue is unique from Toronto, Vancouver, Calgary and every other major Canadian city.

In spite of feisty competition from at least Toronto and Vancouver, as well as growing attention being paid to Calgary, Ottawa and others, Montréal has been known to be a haunt for gourmands; for example, Toqué reputedly has a long reservation waiting list and is such a fine restaurant that even New York élites (at least, the last I heard, while the economy was in a better situation) would take helicopter rides just to have dinner there. Yet, in spite of such a vast selection of places to eat in the Montréal region, my family and I had not tried as many "higher-end" restaurants compared to Ottawa and even Toronto. Having grabbed the November issue of Air Canada's En Route magazine on my Winnipeg-Ottawa flight, I found a selective listing of restaurants all over Canada, including the top 10 new restaurants of 2008. In the listing I found out about a few restaurants of interest in Montréal, but with my going only for a daytrip, I decided to try Brontë Restaurant with my parents.

Located on the northern edge of downtown along Rue Sherbrooke Ouest and only open for dinner, Brontë is just a few blocks from McGill University and near the shopping hub of Rue Sainte-Catherine Ouest. The name may be inspired by an English author (personally, I wasn't a bit fan of her work), but the food and the interior are a whole different story (pardon the pun); the place seems to be inspired, both literally and metaphorically, by the multicultural nature of Montréal. Soft neon colours bathed the dining room with a mix of warm and cool glows. Wood, cloth and metal permeate the place, and even the metal is a mix of smooth and textured. As for the food, the restaurant offers fusion cuisine, although its anchor is prominently of a Western nature.










As we munched on several types of bread, of which the fig & anise bread I found the most unique, we were first offered an amuse-bouche of foie gras with dates on a homemade croûton slice. Here I could sense the dish playing out various opposites to each other swirling into a couple of bites. Sweet (the date) meets salty (the foie gras) and sour (the drops of balsamic vinegar). Soft and smooth meets crunchy. Richness is countered by lightness. It was a nice prologue that allowed for a gentle opening to the unfolding story that would be my dinner.








For the appetizer, I ordered the crispy sweetbrea, which was accompanied with pan-seared tuna. Again, opposites was the idée fixe of this dish, though much more elaborated here than in the amuse-bouche. Crispiness meets softness within the sweetbread, between the vegetables and the meats, between the baby zucchini and eryngii (aka king oyster) mushroom slices, and even between the tuna and the slice of daikon beneath. Sweetbread could be construed as a heavier ingredient, balanced against the flanking accompaniments. The meats were more savoury while the vegetables were naturally sweet and had a mild sourness to them. This dish was colourful and tasteful, and the sweetbread did not feel too filling.








Next I had milk-fed veal filet and shank as my main course. Here the contrasts are not as pronounced, but that theme still lingered in this new chapter. For one thing, the shank was cooked to melt-in-your-mouth tenderness, while the filet, cooked to medium provided a firmer give to the teeth. This dish was relatively richer compared to my earlier dishes, and with respect to contrasts, this offered a greater variety of flavours and textures thanks to the various accompaniments beneath the veal. Both the risina bean purée and the sweet corn ragoût were some nice surprises to this dish, and the bean puree especially was reminiscent to me of French Canadian cuisine. Though this dish was nice, personally I would've liked my veal filet to have been cooked medium-rare; I was not asked by my server how I liked my veal done, and this was before the place got busy (in the eyes of many Montréalais, we started dinner early).








For dessert, I had the raspberry crumble shortcake. Topped with a mildly sweet foam, it was accompanied by a yogurt panna cotta with strawberries and coconut ice cream. None of these items were heavy on the sweetness factor, and the ice cream was given a crunchy dimension with a sugar-based crumble sprinkled as a bed for the ice cream. Presentation was clean and simple, and the flavours were alright, but here is where I perhaps would have preferred the contrast theme to have been dropped a bit. Strawberries and raspberries can complement one another, but coconut? At least my mother's dessert, palm sugar doughnuts with roasted banana and chocolate chipotle ice cream, complemented each other with the use of tropical flavours.

Overall I was not as impressed as I thought I would be, though it was still worth the visit and the atmosphere was welcoming. Brontë demonstrated why one should pay this restaurant some attention, and though it was a good place, I think it's safe for me to say that I've yet to try one of the best restaurants in Montréal to date. There was a whisper here, but, to borrow from Brontë the author, it was not a wuther.

Name: Brontë Restaurant
Address: 1800 Rue Sherbrooke Ouest, Montréal, QC
Cuisine: Fusion
Price Range: Dinner $60-$90
Accessible: Yes

A Memorable Lunch on Remembrance Day

I apologize to have neglected my food blog for a while, but unfortunately nothing new has occurred both in terms of cooking and in trying restaurants. Fortunately for my taste buds, I've been on a two-week vacation that will end soon. One benefit of being back with my parents is that I get to enjoy mom's cooking again, as well as home-cooked meals where it's not practical for me to have because I'm single and/or I'm now in a small city. Another benefit is that I get to have a stab at some finer dining establishments.

A friend of mine was nice enough to join me to go see the National Remembrance Day Ceremony at Ottawa's National War Memorial on November 11, and after that our stomachs were grumbling for food and we wanted to be in some warm place. With that we decided to go to Domus Café for lunch. I've previously been to Domus at least once for brunch with family a few years ago, and that was a nice experience. I was not disappointed by my revisit and was looking forward to my meal as I sipped on some cold apple cider and nibbled on freshly baked bread dipped in a mix of olive oil and apple cider vinegar.










For starters I ordered the soup of the day, which was a mushroom purée. I was enticed by the sight of the soup and the enoki heads garnishing it when I was hit by the most pleasant aroma; the garnish was ringed with white truffle oil. The soup was smooth on the palate yet I could feel itty-bitty pieces of mushrooms dancing on my tongue. Considering I'm a hobbit when it comes to mushrooms, it's no surprise that I quickly fell in love with this soup.








For my main course, I ordered the smoked whitefish. The sour cream (of course, with chives) naturally went well with the potato rosti, but it also surprisingly complemented the whitefish quite well. I was surprised by the presence of raw beets in the accompanying salad; until then I've only had cooked or pickled beets. Though it paired well with the shredded carrots, I must say I'd prefer cooked beets as the raw version doesn't seem to taste as sweet, not to mention that raw beets have a rougher texture. The pearl onion chutney was a pleasant surprise to the taste buds, its sourness sharper than the sour cream, but the sweetness of the onions balanced out that sourness.

Domus proudly uses as much local ingredients as possible to produce a refined version of Canadian cuisine. It also changes its menu every season to take advantage of the various ingredients and to have the flavours match the local climate. I was thankful that I could stop by this place for a meal on my vacation in Ottawa, and I hope the next time I return to this place it will remain just as good.

Oh yeah, and if you or whoever you dine with there like to live in your kitchens at home, Domus also has a kitchenware store next door with the same name. My friend was able to buy a few things there while we waited for our table, which comes to one last thing about this place; reservations are highly recommended as it's a small restaurant.

Name: Domus Café
Address: 87 Murray St., Ottawa, ON
Cuisine: Canadian Regional
Price Range: Lunch $25-$40; Dinner $50-$75
Accessible: Yes

Whaddya Mean Poaching's Illegal?!

There is plenty of uninhabited areas all over Manitoba where one can hunt, and regrettably where there's hunting, there's poaching. Fortunately, wherever there are kitchens there's poaching as well, though thankfully this kind of poaching is legal even over here. ;o) Until this past weekend I'd never poached anything before, not even an egg. However, two events occurred that had me finally inspired to try this method of cooking, and with a particularly special ingredient to boot.

The first event was a trip I took back in June of this year to southern Ontario, which included a couple of days in the Niagara fruit belt and wine country, and that also meant two dinners in some fine dining establishments. Not surprisingly, several restaurants featured dessert menus that included icewine poached pears, as the Niagara region produces arguably the world's best icewines. The second event was an attempted wine-&-dine potluck party I organized back in August, but alas, only three of us made it. That meant that I still had plenty of my Inniskillin 2005 Vidal Icewine left over at the end of the party, and as delicious as it was to sip the ambrosia of wines, I figured that I couldn't down the rest of the bottle, even spread over a time period, without some degree of self-peril (long story short, I've a low tolerance of alcohol). So, remembering the icewine poached pears of Niagara, I figured I'd give it a shot in making some myself with this prized drink.

Upon sifting through the Internet for recipes, I realized I hit a bit of an obstacle: to date I hadn't been able to find any wine poached pear recipes specifically using icewine. Of course, my resolve didn't let this stop me, and after sifting through a few poached pear recipes, I rolled up my sleeves and made my attempt from scratch. First, I had about half a bottle left of the icewine, so that went into a pot, along with 2 cups of water, 1 cup of sugar and the contents of one bourbon vanilla bean. As existing wine poached pear recipes varied on the addition of other flavouring ingredients such as cinnamon sticks, fresh orange peel and even anise, I thought I'd keep my attempt as simple as possible.

Next, I'd bought 4 Bosc pears a few days earlier in anticipation of this weekend, so I peeled them, but did not core them this time, to be poached. As it was the first time I bought Bosc pears, I quickly realized I bought 2 ripe and under-ripe pears each, which in the end was a blessing in disguise as it allowed me to experiment two conditions of the pears under the same preparation conditions for comparison later on when I tasted them. Once the liquid in the pot was boiling I placed the pears in it and let it simmer covered over medium-high heat (which halfway through I then turned to medium-low heat after realizing how quickly the liquid was evaporating) for a total of about 20 minutes, rotating them every 5 minutes or so. Once I removed the pears and sealed them in a container to cool in the fridge overnight, I strained the liquid and boiled that down to about a cup's worth, which turned the liquid to a nice thick syrup. I also sealed that up and let it cool in the fridge overnight.















Last night I took one of the ripe pears and drizzled it with the vanilla scented poaching syrup for dessert, while tonight I ate one of the under-ripe ones. Though the sweetness wasn't overpowering, I realized it was still perhaps on the strong side since icewine is naturally sweeter than most other wines used for poaching, so cutting back slightly on the sugar is something I must keep in mind the next time I make this. The aroma of the pears mingled nicely with the flavours of the icewine, all of which ended with a gentle vanilla finish. Two things quickly became apparent to me about using ripe versus under-ripe pears. Ripe pears ended up being considerably softer, almost melting in my mouth, and they also absorbed all the flavours from the poaching liquid much better than the under-ripe ones. Also, adding other flavorings, especially cinnamon and orange peel, should add more depth to the sweetness of the syrup, and one of those flavouring ingredients could perhaps even counter the sweetness to a certain degree.

Considering this is my first attempt, I'd have to consider this attempt as being relatively successful. Certainly this will be work in progress and will require some improvement by the time I poach pears again, but at least now I have a good idea on what to expect as well as how the end product should be. This is definitely worth trying again, though, since icewine is particularly pricey, I'll likely have to wait making specifically icewine poached pears until there's a special event that warrants such a decadent dessert.

A Taste of Korea in Winnipeg

I'd discovered a Korean restaurant while scrounging through a Winnipeg restaurant guide some time ago, and more recently this year I'd wanted to try the restaurant called Be One. However, for the life of me I couldn't seem to find the restaurant, nor the Korean grocery store near it, down the commercial stretches of Portage Ave. both east and west of Century St. (i.e. Route 90). Finally, last month during the afternoon of another daytrip I'd discovered both businesses located in a row of shops just a few blocks west of Century, which allowed me the opportunity to try dinner last night.

The restaurant's outdoor facade was quite unassuming that one wouldn't have expected a nice looking restaurant inside, but indeed there was one. However, I quickly noticed that this restaurant space might not have been originally designed for a Korean restaurant in mind; the picture in the entrance hall of what could be the Rhine, the wall-mounted gas-lamp-like candleabras, and the varnished wood panelling had me wondering if I'd made a mistake trying this place. Fortunately, I was quite reassured as soon as I saw and heard the staff at this place; this Korean restaurant was being run by Koreans, which meant that the chances of them offering authentic (i.e. not Canadianized) cuisine, though not guaranteed, was higher. My taste buds were not disappointed at all from what I was served.















Though I managed to eat all that you see in the picture, in hindsight I could've dropped the Japchae if only not to be slightly overstuffed with food. I was originally waffling between either the Bibimbap or the Bulgogi, but at the advice of the staff I went for the Bulgogi, which came with a miso soup (not shown), a bowl of rice and a four-dish all-veggie Banchan (side dishes). As you can see, it looked like I was dining like a mid-level Imperial government official! (Of course, I do work in a government, but I digress...)

I was first served some miso soup, which I know is a Japanese dish. That said, Be One's version is not like the miso soups you'd normally find in Japanese restaurants; this one was darker in colour and richer in flavour. The japchae I had was served warm, stir-fried to a nice finish. The cellophane noodles were cooked to the right texture, the pieces of beef weren't overdone, and the red and green peppers still retained their crunch and rare sweetness while the onions were cooked just enough to be rid of the raw zing. The flavouring of it was just right, accentuated on the savoury side by both the beef and the slices of shiitake mushrooms.

The bulgogi was also nicely prepared, though this restaurant's version was likely pan-cooked rather than grilled. Just enough soy sauce was used to marinate the meat to ensure that it wasn't too salty.

The banchan were simple yet refreshing interludes between bites of the bulgogi. In the picture, from left to right along the top were:

• Kimchi, arguably one of the best known Korean dishes around the world. This version was, at least to me, not too spicy, and in spite of the cabbage having been pickled in brine during the preparation of kimchi, it surprisingly didn't have a distinct salty taste that one might experience with some other pickled dishes from around the world;
• Sliced potatoes in a sweet soy marinade;
• Bean sprouts with sesame oil (kongnamul), by far my favourite of the banchan dishes tasted so far in my life (I have a particular weakness for the aroma of sesame oil); and
• Garlic-flavoured slices of zucchini. Obviously zucchini's not an ingredient one normally finds in Korea, but here in Canada, where multiculturalism thrives, fusion cuisine abounds and situation substitution is sometimes necessary due to what can be found locally, even an Italian vegetable can find itself a home in Korean cuisine.

Overall I enjoyed the dining this place had to offer. The food was nicely done, and, compared to some other restaurants I've tried and reviewed to date, the price range is definitely more accessible; considering the quality of the food, I found it to be a deal as well. Unfortunately, fate had me trying this place when they were short on waiting staff, which meant the remaining staff at the restaurant were scrambling about. Give them credit, though, for keeping their cool and the smiles on their faces. Also, I noticed that some notable Korean dishes appeared to be missing on the menu, especially galbi (grilled beef short ribs)... how can a Korean restaurant not serve beef short ribs? (OK, I'll admit I've an affinity for beef short ribs, as my family can attest.)

Hopefully, the next time I'm there they'll have everybody accounted for... and perhaps they will have renovated the interior to better reflect the style of cuisine they offer.


Name: Be One
Address: 1811 Portage Ave., Winnipeg, MB
Cuisine: Korean
Price Range: Dinner $15-$40
Accessible: Yes

A Different Steak Dinner

I say, it's been some time since I updated this blog! Part of the reason has been that I hadn't tried any restaurants yet that are worth writing about, and part of the reason has also been that I hadn't tried cooking anything new lately. However, today during my grocery run an impulse to try cooking something I hadn't cooked before got the best of me, and I bought myself a bison T-bone steak.

Though wild American bison numbers today are nowhere near the level before European settlement of the Prairies, the prevalence of bison farming has made the consumption of bison possible. Bison is considerably leaner than beef, and therefore one can't overcook it in order to maintain tenderness. My steak perchance was cut about 3/4" thick, which the supermarket in which I bought the steak suggested that I should cook no more than 4-5 minutes per side. My intuition from grilling beef steaks advised me to put the stove heat to a medium-high setting, and it certainly helped bring the bison steak to a nice medium level.

I also was compelled to buy a bunch of beets. Coming in no more than threes, the batch of beets caught my attention this time for not only the large size of the beets themselves but also the length of the greens. Armed with these two major ingredients, I made myself a steak dinner this evening.

After cutting the greens loose I wrapped each beet in aluminum foil and put them in a 400-degree oven for an hour. In the meantime I cut the greens to more bite-sized lengths, later sauteeing the stalks first in olive oil and sliced garlic for a couple of minutes under medium-high heat before adding the more tender leaves to cook a few minutes more until wilted. For flavour I just added some freshly ground pepper and chicken powder; stock would've meant the greens would've been drowning in too much liquid.

With the bison steak I patted it dry and sprinkled both sides with coarse salt and ground pepper before cooking it over medium-high heat in my cast iron pan. Once the steak was cooked I set it aside, lowered the heat to medium, added a tablespoon of butter to the pan (and a dash of olive oil to minimize the chance of the butter being burnt) and sauteed ~100g of sliced shiitake mushrooms with one sliced shallot, sprinkled with a dash of salt and pepper. Once the mushrooms were virtually cooked I added a cup of Jackson-Triggs 2005 Okanagan Estate Merlot with a tablespoon of flour already mixed in it; I've personally had better experience thickening the sauce this manner than by adding flour into the pan directly and trying to stir like mad to make the flour blend with the liquid.

As the sauce thickened and the alcohol was burning off I added a few splashes of chicken stock to make sure that it didn't get too thick, but in the end had to add a bit of chicken powder to enhance the flavour. By this time the beets were ready, and after peeling one of them by hand (the skin falls off more easily once cooked) I cut it up into cubes and tossed it into some mixed baby greens and sprinkled it with some honey balsamic dressing for my starting salad.

















The bison steak itself was decently tender and had a flavour that, though similar to beef, is still quite distinct. It definitely felt less greasy in the mouth than a beef steak, and the bison meat grain felt finer than that of beef. Of course, bison will still be considred as a treat in my pad as it costs considerably more than beef, but it is definitely a nice and potentially healthier alternative to beef that we so easily find in our supermarkets.