Earlier this week I had dinner with T-Bone at aKin, a Michelin-starred restaurant we’d both been meaning to try. It had been a year since our last dinner, which was similarly extravagant.
We ordered cocktails, and were told about the menu. It’s ten courses, and rotates every few months. When we went it was the Lunar New Year menu, described thus on their website:
This Lunar New Year menu at aKin is shaped by Chinese cultural traditions, where food is chosen not only for flavour, but for the meaning it carries. Each course is guided by ingredients traditionally associated with intention, prosperity, balance, and reunion, creating a thoughtful progression through the meal. The menu reflects Lunar New Year as a season rather than a single day of celebration. Familiar ingredients and ideas are presented in new forms, honouring tradition while allowing it to evolve through aKin’s perspective. Course titles reflect the values they represent, offering a dining experience that is both considered and expressive.
Our server, who was peak enthusiastic, also let us know there were two optional courses: a Wagyu dish, and a dan tat. I’m sorry, said we, a what? A dan tat: a Hong Kong-style egg tart. We explained that since my name is Dan and her name is Tat, we kind of had to order that. I honestly can’t remember when in the menu those things came; the night was a blur of food, Champagne, and emotions. Anyway, here’s the menu according to the card they gave us when we left:
AUSPICIOUS VEGETABLES
intelligence: scallion, potato, mascarpone
endurance: leek, onion, black truffle
diligence: celery, celtuce, preserved plum
optimism: heirloom carrot, taro, curry
prosperity: fat choy, watercress, coconut
WEALTH: new brunswick oyster, jellyfish, kaviari kristal caviar
TREASURE: buddha jumps over the wall, abalone, sea cucumber
ABUNDANCE: madai, mala spices, sauerkraut
LONGEVITY: nova scotia lobster, tajarin, stracciatella
JOY: zabuton, yellow chicken, sambal, purple bok choy
FULFILLMENT: foie gras, périgord black truffle, wagyu, glutinous rice
HARMONY: kumquat, winter melon, ron goddess lea, chinese almond
RADIANCE: black sesame, peanut, mochi, rice wine
GOOD “FOUR” TUNES
niangao: canelé, brown sugar, chantilly
yuanbao: pâte de fruits, mandarin, gold
tanghulu: macaron, hawtharn, sesame
red bean: bon bon, valrhona opalys, adzuki
DRINKS
bottle of Appalonis Champagne
glasses of red wine: Carinena for T-Bone, Barbera for me (there were also glasses of red wine with the beef, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was)
dessert-ish: tea for T-Bone, 1983 Grenache Blanc for me
Was it good? Yes. Was it great? Not really. A couple of courses were excellent, but almost as many were left half-eaten on the plate. And considering the cost, suffice it to say this one would be near the bottom of my value-for-money scale. Still, an adventure, and a reason to see an old & dear friend who, it should be said, was soldiering through something quite awful and yet somehow her effervescent self.
A few hugs later we were playing Uber roulette, wondering why nothing at all was coming (I blamed the Leafs, as is my wont) until I snuck in for the win. Getting up at 6 the next morning to drive to the office wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.
Earlier this week I was lucky enough to have dinner with old friends CBGB, here in town for the week. They were even kind enough to book JZ2 too; I hadn’t seen them in 10+ years.
We met for dinner at Adrak, and the consensus was that the food was freaking great. Fantastic cocktails, a familiar favourite Indian wine, and incredible food. We didn’t even order; we kind of just let our host pick everything, and he nailed it.
cocktails
Papad Ki Tokri (papadams, assorted chutneys & salsa)
On Wednesday, after meeting an old friend for a drink at the Library Bar in the Royal York, I met Dan & Abtin for our annual steak dinner tradition. This time we tried Sammarco; Dan’s second time, my and Abtin’s first. An overdue catchup, and a wonderful time as always.
Here’s what we ate & drank:
Cocktails
Il Capo (Sammarco rye whiskey blend, Turbinado & aromatic bitters) for me
Two gin martinis for the boys, despite a few gin inventory (ginventory?) issues
Another week in Moncton, another new restaurant tried: Osaka Hibachi. It was a group dinner, and a quick one, so I’m not sure I got the full experience, but it was fun & tasty enough. I got back Thursday night, and somehow stumbled through Friday.
Last night we had tickets to see a show at Crow’s, but needed somewhere to eat beforehand. We intended to pop into Avling, but it looked packed, so we doubled back and tried a place that’s been on my list since it opened: Corduroy Lounge. We grabbed one of the few remaining tables and ordered cocktails: whiskey-driven for me, absinthe-driven for Lindsay. Neither of us were starving so we split a wedge salad (which was excellent) and the cod + chips (which was also excellent) with a couple of pints of Guinness. Overall, pretty good vibes in there. Will be going back.
The play — The Surrogate — was on an extremely small, stark stage. The audience surrounded the cast, who were often a foot or two away. Between their scenes they sat on chairs next to us. Pulsing hospital lights directed our attention up- or down-stage. Technically, it was quite different to anything I’d seen before.
The play itself was good, not great, in both our opinions. It just felt too…overt, too expository (Lindsay’s word, which I felt was better than how I’d been trying to say it), too ham-handed. I get that when you’re dealing with that many contentious issues — surrogacy, gay rights, states’ rights, homophobia, religion, politics of health, reproductive rights, etc., etc. — it might feel necessary to plunk the contention and hypocrisy right there on the floor in front of us, to make sure everyone gets it. It just felt like we were being told what was hard about these hard things, rather than shown. That trap, I suppose, is what made it feel good, not great.
A week after attending Star Wars parody burlesque followed by a garbage Italian dinner, we reversed course altogether. Last night we had dinner at Richmond Station and went to the symphony.
Dinner was a typical Richmond Station experience: delicious, cozy, great wine list.
Overcoming the winter’s forced homesteading, we managed to get out a couple of times this week
First: dinner Tuesday at The Wood Owl (potato rosti, smoked trout dip, yellowfin tuna, mushroom cavatelli, sweet potato, 3-cheese ravioli w/ short rib sugo, and a bottle of Cabernet) with Kirsten.
Second: a bit of a Friday night out. First stop was my first ever visit to Bar Raval. Only time for a quick bite, so we had pan con tomate, jamon croquettas, cocktails (Shelly In Athens, Yellow Parrot) and sherry (Fernando De Castilla Fino En Rama, Hidalgo Faraon Oloroso). We left there and walked to the Royal Theatre to see — and I swear I’m not making this up — a Star Wars burlesque show called The Empire Strips Back. It was actually quite entertaining. I wish I could describe it here, but words aren’t going to nail the image of a naked (kind of) Emperor Palpatine swinging on a Death Star-shaped wrecking ball a la Miley Cyrus. We left there fairly late in the evening, so just took the easy road across the street to Sotto Voce. That was a mistake. It was such a weird combo of loud club and dusty old Italian joint. We had two bad glasses of wine and split a disappointing pasta and then beat a hasty retreat.
After the holidays, most people pull back on how much they’re eating and drinking. This past week, I went the other way.
On Sunday we had dinner with Ricky & Olivia at DaiLo. Being out with friends who have their own Michelin-recognized restaurant changes the experience somewhat, as other chefs want to share their top stuff (and maybe show off a bit) with respected peers, so Lindsay and I benefitted from that. As a result, I can’t remember everything we ate — a lot of courses came out unbidden — but do remember these ones, and recall that everything was fantastic.
Hakka Brown Wontons (pork & shrimp) w/ toasted sesame oil, house xo sauce, almond crumble
Smoked Duck Bokkeum w/ kimchi pickled spring vegetables, gochugaru onion jam, miso blue potato salad, crispy wild rice
90 Day Dry Aged Butcher Shoppe Rib Eye w/ Asian bordelaise sauce, braised shiitake, truffle pomme puree
Desserts
A bottle of Beaujolais (Clos de la Roilette Fleurie Cuvée Tardive)
On Tuesday I had dinner booked with Shannon, which we’d been trying to set up for a while. I chose Wood Owl, and while it wasn’t quite as tasty as our first time there late last year, it was still pretty great.
apps
yellowfin tuna, aji amarillo & Cara Cara orange w/ cucumber, lime leaf oil, Thai basil, red chili
braised short rib, celeriac & Gruyere puree w/ caramelized onion & red wine sauce, escarole, crunchy dijon vinaigrette (Shannon)
steak frites, Café de Paris butter, fries, aioli (me)
I had glasses of Chardonnay, Pinot Blanc / Weissburgunder, and Sangiovese. Shannon was on dry January.
On Thursday I had a work dinner at DaNico. It was a more intimate affair than usual with just a handful of attendees. One of those was an old employee of mine, so that was an unexpected treat. Also a treat: these dinners don’t usually happen at Michelin-starred restaurants.
canapé selection (all five of which were exceptional)
seared Ontario venison w/ organic chestnut purée, red beets, port jus
Spaghettoni pasta from Gragnano boiled in an extraction of organic Ontario mushrooms w/ Parmigiano Reggiano aged 24 months, fresh Italian black truffle
Chilean sea bass steamed and deglazed with miso w/ radicchio tardivo all’ agro, Oscetra sturgeon caviar, white vermouth sauce
After opening a bottle of Bollinger (!) for the aperitivo, they let me pick the wine. I decided to champion Ontario wine, ordering bottles of Bachelder “Les Villages” Pinot Noir and Hidden Bench “Tête de Cuvée” Chardonnay. Even snuck in an Amaro at the end.
One very bumpy flight (due to a windstorm which knocked out power all over the province) later, we were on the ground in Halifax. The 20-minute drive to Bedford through rain and wind was even worse than the flight, but we made it. We tried to sleep, but a disruptive cat made it difficult.
Sat Dec 20 – Mon Dec 22
After a bit of shopping we drove to the farm, arriving just minutes after brother #1 and his progeny. Brother #2 was laid up in hospital, but sister-in-law #1 and their kids came over for a big feed. The next day brother #1, my dad, and I drove to the hospital visit the missing brother, then got home for lunch just in time for brother #1 to head back to Halifax. After that, many games of crib ensued. On Monday brother #2 was being discharged so I picked him up and drove him home; afterwards, there was more crib and a movie (Secondhand Lions). A typical quiet time at the farm, less the nightly visits next door to sip some wine.
Tue Dec 23 – Thu Dec 25
On Tuesday we drove back to Bedford, stopping at Truro along the way, which included lunch at the Nook & Cranny, coffee at NovelTea, and a lot of one-way street confusion. A few more errands along the way and we were back in Bedford, eating dinner, drinking eggnog, and listening to East Coast Christmas.
We spent the 24th (mostly) chilling, eating lobster rolls with grandparents, drinking wine, and watching Die Hard.
Moving day. I got up and went to a light version of the Dickinson family reunion, this time hosted by brother #1 at his new place. It was fun to see some family, even if illnesses and travel meant the crowd was diminished. Someone even brought a rare curiosity: Cumberland (County) Trivia!
From there I drove down to St. Margaret’s Bay to meet Lindsay and her brothers at their dad’s. Seafood chowder, Dubai chocolate, lots of animal interactions, and a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck.
From there, the brothers went back to Bedford while we drove to downtown Halifax, checking in to our Halifax home: The Muir.
Sat Dec 27
God, we missed a king bed. Best sleep in a while. We eventually headed downstairs to Drift for breakfast, ran out to do a couple errands (nearly freezing to death while doing so), had a coffee at Café Lunette, and went back to the room to relax. I watched the three Stranger Things episodes that came out Christmas Day; Lindsay Stardew’d.
The only solid plan we had in Halifax before we arrived was a dinner reservation at Mystic, recently named the best new restaurant in Canada by En Route. We arrived for our reservation, and things started off a little shaky — our cocktails (Yellow-Eyed Grass for Lindsay, Silverweed for me) took a weirdly long time to arrive, but they were taken off the bill. Once the food started, though, we quickly realized why it’s garnered so many accolades.
Fauna (Lindsay)
Snacks (cheese gougère, cheese and zucchini tart, corn crema)
chocolate w/ koji caramel, ganache, pineapple weed cremeux miso, black honey ice cream
20 Year Old Taylor Fladgate Tawny Port
Honestly, every course was amazing. Incredible flavours, perfect balance, strikingly presented. Lovely staff, especially the sommelier, who we ended up chatting with quite a bit (we knew some people in common). I even bumped into a colleague there. Anyway: one of the best meals we’ve had all year, for sure. Maybe the best.
Sun Dec 28
We didn’t stay in bed too long before ordering breakfast up to the room. After a while we struck out to meet up with Patrick for a quick (and awful) coffee at Cafe du Port, then collected their mom and walked back down the hill to Darya for brunch. We all had their buffet, and left stuffed to the gills with delicious food. Those two left to go about their days; Lindsay and I crawled back to the room and had naps.
Dinner that night was at Peacock Wine Bar, and it was basically a reunion of five of the six people who had assembled Friday night…just with different drivers. Here’s what we had:
Shared plates (everyone):
Focaccia w/ fermented chili butter
Burrata w/ lavender, sichuan, plum, black sesame toasts
Got up (not easily), packed (not carefully), ate some breakfast (not bad), checked out (not a hassle), had a quick coffee date with friends and their new baby (too cute), picked up Lindsay’s mom nearby (too easy), saw Lindsay’s grandma (too briefly), drove to Bedford (too fast), ate a donair (too messy), re-packed (too painful), and then waited to find out how long we’d be delayed due to weather (too stressful).
VERY frustratingly, Porter was playing like everything was okay, so we made the very treacherous drive to the airport thinking we were only 40 minutes delayed. Just as we checked in, they closed the runways at the airport, but they wouldn’t officially cancel our flight. Everyone knew the flight wasn’t going to leave, but they wouldn’t formally cancel it, so we couldn’t rebook or get our bags back. A plane full of people sat in the airport for hours, with no information, no updates….just a bunch of meaningless “your flight has been delayed by 15 minutes” emails, stating to times that had no basis in reality. I know the weather was the root cause of this situation, but Porter fell down INCREDIBLY hard on the job when it came to looking after its passengers.
Finally, around 8:30pm, they officially cancelled our flight. The email confirming this wouldn’t arrive until 1am, but right away I could see that we’d been rebooked on a flight the next morning. We walked down to get our bags, which came out at about 9:55pm. Then it took us forever to get an Uber in a brutal windstorm. The driver got us back to Lindsay’s mom just as her power came back on from a 2-hour outage. We crawled into the house, weary, but glad we had a booked flight and a place to sleep. Other people were being booked for flights several days from now, and every hotel around the airport was totally booked.
Tue Dec 30
Woke up to emails saying our flight was already delayed from 9:15 to 10:00 — not exactly surprising, since there’d be such a backlog of flights trying to get out. But then it kept going: 11:40, 12:30, 1:00, 1:30. We got nervous. But eventually the delay notifications stopped, so we went to the airport, and finally got on. Glory be.
2025 wasn’t done with us yet though. Our flight was another half hour delayed, ans then — after a landing almost as bumpy as the one in Halifax that started this trip — we, along with about a dozen other people on the plane, realized our bags never showed up. Most of the passengers got theirs. Us lot didn’t. The Porter baggage desk was uniformly unhelpful — they just told us all to scan a QR code which led to a third party app.
So we’re home. But our luggage isn’t. Bianca’s happy though, and that’s all that matters.
UPDATE 1: bag #1 arrived around 5pm on Jan 1. No sign of bag #2.
UPDATE 2: bag #2 arrived around 5pm on Jan 2. Much to our relief, the bottle of Lightfoot & Wolfville 2017 Brut sparkling inside had not broken or exploded.
I followed up a trip to Moncton last week (trying two new places during my visit: Taverna and Bâton Rouge; the former is pretty good, but the latter was as meh as I expected and twice as weird) with a one-night trip to Montreal. I had a plan to see my fifth-ever Canadiens game in Montreal in 2025, and just snuck it in before the end of the year.
After a couple nice days back home in Toronto, I headed back to Billy Bishop airport. It was snowing in Toronto, but my flight hit the goodness trifecta: left on time, arrived without incident, and the seat next to me was empty. Can’t ask for more. (Also, the flight attendant on this flight gave me a whole can of pop, while the flight attendant on my Moncton->Toronto flight two days ago gave me a heavy pour of red wine and offered me a second class. I guess I look thirsty.)
I landed at YUL to find a new Uber setup, which I think every airport should copy. On the drive into downtown, I saw some “FUCK ICE” graffiti, which obviously speaks to our political moment in North America, but is probably also an annual sentiment in Montreal.
I arrived at the Centre Sheraton, a location chosen only because I had enough Bonvoy points for a free night, and because it’s about as close as you can get to the Bell Centre, otherwise it would not be on my list. But it was fine for a night, even if the elevators made constant noise.
In search of coffee and tide-over snacks, I popped around the corner to Melk for a cortado and a scone. I finished the book I’ve been reading (Terror from the Air by Peter Sloterdijk), bought some beans to bring home, and walked back to the hotel.
After a couple of relaxing hours I went for an early dinner at Bar Edicola, not far from the hotel. (Thank goodness; it was a full-fledged winter storm now.) It’s essentially a long counter, but the vibes were pretty great. I had a glass of some weird Italian Pinot variant, some heavy soft warm oily bread, a glass of Trebbiano, a plate of ricotta agnolotti, a glass of Nebbiolo, and espresso. Solid meal all around, and perfect for a snowy night.
It was almost time for the game, so I stopped back at the hotel to change into my Montreal jersey and add some extra layers. A short (but cold & snowy) walk later I was settled in, watching the Canadiens take on St. Louis. Now, the curse of my presence at a Montreal home game — once at the old Forum, three times at the Bell Centre — is well documented, so I was a little nervous to go. Sadly, I was right to be nervous: they lost 4-3 to the middling Blues. Apart from a 65-second span to start the second period the Habs outplayed and out-chanced them, but that brief lapse was enough to give away the game. Dejected, I walked home through the snow with the crowds. At least I got to have a Bell Centre hot dog.
The next morning I woke up and had some pretty friggin’ delicious pain perdu downstairs at Stanley. (I’d thought about venturing out for some breakfast, but it was -25° with the windchill.) Some showering, packing, and relaxing later and I was on my way to the airport for my flight home. Not so lucky with the flight this time — it was on time and relatively uneventful, but someone sat next to me, and a lady right in front of me just opened up a can of flaky salmon and ate it with a fork like as if she hadn’t set up a stink bomb in the pressured tube of an airplane. Stunk harder than the Habs at the start of period two last night. (Hey-o.)
I’m glad I’ve gotten to see the Canadiens beat the Leafs here in Toronto a few times, because I’m starting to think I’ll never get to see it happen in Montreal. Frankly, I kind want to give up trying — not because I believe I’m actually unlucky for them, but because it’s kind of a bummer to keep experiencing losses and never get the win.
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 