“Almost reckless, really.”

Zoinks, kids. WHAT a week in Dublin. We went because I had a work reason to be there, but — like Lisbon last year — we ended up having a whale of a time.

MONDAY

My bid for a business class upgrade worked perfectly, so we had a pretty posh flight to Dublin. I finished watching Darkest Hour and a few episodes of Game of Thrones and got a few hours of sleep.

TUESDAY

We arrived in Dublin and got a cab to the Spencer Hotel, after a brief ATM hiccup. We slept a few hours, and then decided to walk around Dublin. We checked out the #1-rated beer place in Dublin — Brew Dock — for some lunch and very tasty brews.

We enjoyed the shockingly warm weather and walked back through the CHQ (Customs House Quay) building before crossing the Liffey and strolled along that side. So many big corporations, startups, and cafes have moved into old dock buildings. I loved it. We got back to the hotel before a visit to Bear Market coffee and then Lindsay and I met a few colleagues for drinks at Ely wine bar.

I had a bit of work stuff to deal with, including a trip to the Guinness Storehouse and the Gravity Bar, which was at least a little bit cool.

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After that took a cab back across the Liffey where Lindsay had walked to meet me, and we had dinner at Bar Italia. It was in kind of a touristy part of town (Temple Bar, with which we’d become very familiar) but it felt pretty legit. We shared Burren cold-smoked organic Irish salmon marinated with orange and pink peppercorn, and a killer burrata. For mains I had chargrilled lamb rack in a crust of pistachio-nut on a bed of roasted rosemary potatoes; Lindsay had fresh Gran tortellini filled with wild mushrooms in a porcini and parmigiano DOP fonduta cream, finished with white truffle oil. We walked home, overly full and pretty sleepy, but enjoying the lovely views. So we had the traditional Dublin Italian meal under our belts, I guess? 😐

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Maker:S,Date:2017-8-28,Ver:6,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar02,E-Y

WEDNESDAY

I spent the day at a work thing; Lindsay made her way around the city finding writing venues. That evening we took our first true foray into the Temple Bar neighbourhood for a drink at Fallon & Byrne, which is this really cool grocer with a cozy wine bar in the basement. We didn’t stay long — we had reservations elsewhere — but we loved our quick visit. We decided we’d come back.

We walked down the street a few metres for our reservation at Taste At Rustic. I don’t quite know how it ended up on my map — a Japanese fusion place wouldn’t normally be at the top of my list — but I’m glad it did. We had a SERIOUS meal:

  • Open maki dish of tuna & salmon (kyoto-style) with sushi rice, radish, turnip, fried egg, roasted nori & avocado
  • Broccoli tempura with kimchi mayonnaise, aged parmesan & roasted turnip stock
  • Tuna akami marinated in soya sauce with a touch of wasabi
  • Chicken karage with burnt lemon and miso mayonnaise
  • Grade 9 wagyu beef brushed with sweet miso and sesame powder served with rice chips
  • Glazed sticky pork brushed with japanese tare, fresh lime, japanese yuzu and kimchi
  • Mango and passion fruit mochi (japanese-style served with the aromas of their flesh and juice)
  • Green tea brûlée with pistachio, yogurt mousse, white chocolate and yuzu ice cream
  • A mixture of delicious wines and cocktails, including something called a Three Beauties, which I ordered twice

THURSDAY

Day two of the conference had me running around and introvert-exhausted, so I took off immediately after. We had plans that night and wanted to get a bite beforehand, but Dublin rush hour traffic worked against us — what should have taken 15 minutes took closer to 45, and we had to eat in a rush. We tucked in at Piglet wine bar, and they turned us around faaaast. We ate jumbo prawns and beef tartare and orecchiette w/ pork ragú, smoked paprika and parmesan, and took off for our play.

The play, at the Project Arts Centre, was called My Son My Son. I won’t try to write a proper summary, but seeing a play written by a woman featuring an all-female cast and dealing with so many feminist issues, on the eve of the Irish referendum to decide whether to repeal the ban on abortion, was pretty powerful. The result is now known, but the night before we saw many ‘YES’ or ‘REPEAL’ shirts in the audience, just as we’d seen around the city all week, and as of that night the outcome was far from certain.

After dinner we made our way back to Fallon & Byrne for a bit more wine, and some charcuterie, including some cheese called Durrus (made near Cork) which Lindsay declared to be her all-time favourite. We ended with a few glasses off the Coravin list, which had a little more cork in it than we would have liked. Afterward we had a final nip in the hotel bar. I chose a lovely 21 year old Redbreast Irish whiskey.

FRIDAY

With the conference now done, we had the days to ourselves. We used the day to do what we do best: eat, and visit museums.

First up was the EPIC, the Irish Emigration Museum, just down the street from us in the CHQ building. Pretty new, it seems, and with a great use of technology (HD projectors, motion/gesture detection, etc.), sound, sculpture, and other visuals, it helped weave a compelling story of Ireland as told by the people who’ve left it.

After that we hopped in a cab and traveled north to see the Dublin City Gallery / Hugh Lane. But first: lunch at Chapter One. It’s a Michelin-starred restaurant in the basement of a writer’s museum. We took a chance that they’d have a table for lunch Friday, and we lucked out. We took our seats and proceeded to have one of the best meals of our lives. I’ll describe the food below, but the service was just…impeccable. Perfectly attentive, utterly charming, and at times hilarious. In the throes of feeling oh-so-decadent, like “who are we kidding, eating like this?!” about this meal, one of the staff joked along with us, saying “It’s almost reckless, really!” and it was perfect. Maybe you had to be there? Anyway, the food:

  • Champagne:
    • Laurent Perrier Brut Champagne NV x2
  • Starters:
    • Lindsay: beef cheek, wild garlic, mushroom ravioli, parmesan (Givry 1er Cru ‘Champ Nalot’ Domaine Parize 2016)
    • Dan: jumbo green asparagus, guanciale, sheep’s cheese, pickled red dulse (Heinz W ‘Joseph’ Gruner Veltliner, Kamptal 2016)
  • Mains:
    • Lindsay: braised neck fillet of Spring lamb, herb potato and lamb kromeski, violet artichoke, caper flower (Bodegas Rodero, Carmelo Reserva, Ribera del Duero 2012)
    • Dan: salt marsh duck, tart of braeburn apple, smoked bacon, fennel pollen, pickled walnuts (Nuits St. Georges 1er Cru ‘Champs Perdrix’ Domaine Alain Michelot 2009)
  • Dessert:
    • Lindsay: flavours and textures of Irish milk and honey (Chateau Laville Sauternes, 2013)
    • Dan: warm 68% chocolate mousse with flavours of Guinness (Fonseca, Guimareans 1996)

I mean…

After that we stumbled outside and enjoyed the sunshine — did I mention it was brilliantly warm & sunny our whole week in Dublin, and didn’t really rain until the moment we left? — for a few minutes before heading into The Hugh Lane. We saw the main collection and the Amanda Dunsmore exhibition “Keeper” and the recreated Francis Bacon studio. After that we took a quick stroll the Garden of Remembrance, then cabbed back to our hotel. We grabbed our bags and switched to our home for the back third of our trip: Stauntons On The Green. Our room was a little disappointing — cute and all, but being on the ground floor the view was entirely blocked by the hoarding outside the hotel, so we couldn’t see St. Stephen’s Green at all. They promised to move us to another room the next night, and we passed out on our temporary bed.

Somehow, that night, we had another grand meal planned. Dax was billed as maybe the best non-Michelin-starred restaurant in Dublin. We were worried the near-miraculous lunch we’d been fed would ruin all meals to come, and certainly all to come THAT DAY, but Dax held up just fine, thank you very much. To wit, the tasting menu (as best I can remember it):

  • Salmon amuse bouche
  • Roast Dinish Island scallops, sweet pea sauce
  • Roast Atlantic cod fillet, Cévenne onion, heirloom carrots, fresh peas, lobster sauce
  • Salt cured foie gras, preserved and fresh spring vegetables, chardonnay vinegar
  • Homemade brioche
  • Fillet of Kildare beef, braised short-rib, celeriac, diane sauce
  • Whipped natural buttermilk, popcorn, pineapple, madagascar vanilla
  • Sheridan’s cheese selection with condiments (with Durrus!)

Luckily our walk home was a short one, because we could barely move. We got back to the hotel, saw the news that exit polls were predicting a landslide for the ‘Yes’ vote, and passed out.

SATURDAY

We decided to have breakfast at the hotel, both of us opting for the smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. That was the fuel for our walk around the Irish Museum of Modern Art, or IMMA. It was an outstanding visit in an old military hospital, introducing me to Brian O’Doherty, feeding Lindsay new relevant-to-school material, and treating us to a wonderful Lucian Freud exhibit. There was a gorgeous garden and, somewhat randomly, an informal singing to sick children. It was all a bit much, really.

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We had an absolutely smashing Uber driver from the IMMA to our lunch spot. He pulled up to the curb and yelled “Dan, how the hell are ya?” as we got in. Brilliant. We talked beer, tourist sites, Dublin and Irish history, viking timelines, and a host of other topics in our short time together, but he made us want to revisit Dublin. Like, RIGHT NOW. I would’ve gladly spent more time with him, but he dropped us at Against The Grain and we were thirsty.

Owned by the same people as Brew Dock, Against The Grain enticed us right away. Chill vibe, top beer, good food. I had a Wild Beer Trepache sour, a Boyne raspberry sour, a Thornbridge Cocoa Wonderland chocolate coffee porter, and a tshirt. All supoib.

After lunch we slid over to the afore-mentioned St. Stephen’s Green, and strolled through a bit of bucolic loveliness in the middle of Dublin. We lay in the grass and kissed and laughed at kids and dogs and it was pretty alright. After a spell we walked out of the park to our hotel, where we found our lovely new room with a view of the very park we’d just enjoyed.

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We napped an showered and changed and set out for Temple Bar. Mind you, this was our first foray into Temple Bar on a weekend, and…oof. What a busy mess. We had to dodge through there to visit Jam Art Factory, where we bought some prints, and to have a glass of wine at La Caverna before dinner. Unfortunately they were packed, so we went around the corner to Port House instead. We got a glass of wine and an espresso in us before an unbearable crowd formed and we beat a hasty retreat across the Liffey.

Our final dinner in Dublin was at a classic: The Winding Stair. It’s a cozy room atop a bookstore, with an open kitchen and a view (if you’re lucky) of the river and the Ha’penny Bridge. We ate and drank very well, to the point where we had to tell the server to take’er easy after our starters, lest our mains cause a wafer-thin-mint moment. We ate:

  • Starters:
    • Toons Bridge Dairy stracciatella with ruby and golden beets, capers, sorrel, and beetroot crisps
    • Burren smokery, Terry Butterly and Stephen Kavanagh’s smoked fish plate with our Dillisk bread, crème fraîche, pickled cucumbers and caper-berries
  • Mains:
    • Lindsay: Niall Sabongi grey mullet with Connemara clams, Gubbeen chorizo, asparagus and wild garlic champ
    • Dan: Skeaghanore cider-braised duck leg with grilled baby gem, crispy bacon, pickled walnut, apple, smoked duck fat roasties and cider gravy
  • Dessert:
    • Chateau Partarrieu Sauternes

We enjoyed the whole meal with an outstanding bottle of Savigny-lès-Beaune 1er ‘Aux Vergelesses’ Simon Bize 2011 Chardonnay. Later I realized that I recognized the name — we had a bottle of their Pinot last fall in Paris, at Fish La Boissonerie. For dessert we just ordered glasses of Sauternes, but our server (pressed into bartending duty at the end of the night) didn’t understand a typcial Sauternes pour and ended up pouring us a normal 5oz glass. So we got right lit up, we did.

SUNDAY

Not much left to do on our final morning but eat some breakfast, so we made it a good one, walking a few minutes to Meet Me In The Morning. We weren’t sure what to expect, but it turned out to be one of the most delicious breakfasts EVER.

I had the hash (McNally potato and beet, a poached egg, beet sour cream, greens and Toonsbridge halloumi with Gubbeen chorizo) while Lindsay had the eggs & greens (McNally kales, garlic yoghurt, paprika oil, curly parsley, two poached eggs, rustic loaf, and halloumi). After finishing we were patient (not really) and waited for the homemade doughnuts to come out, one rhubarb cheesecake and the other vanilla creme. Oh, and some dude came in carrying the cutest puppy either of us had ever seen and we all (us, the server, the other patrons) melted. Puppies and doughnuts. Jaysus. What a send off, Dublin.

After a hasty re-pack back in the room we checked out. The rain started just as we left, which left me convinced that the Irish don’t really have bad weather, they just tell us they do to keep us away. Our Uber driver, Sean, was an utter treat. He dropped us at DUB, we checked in, we hung out in the lounge, we debated buying the last piece of Durrus cheese in the Dublin airport, and we boarded to come home. The flight was easy-peasy; arriving at Terminal 3 was a goddamn gong-show. But we made it.

AFTERWORD

We need to go back to Dublin, and to see the rest of Ireland. That is all.

A relatively fun weekend

We just got back from Dublin yesterday, which will be a whole other blog post. In the meantime here’s a quick recap of the whirlwind trip we took to Nova Scotia the weekend before.

We flew Air Canada instead of Porter, so from Pearson instead of Billy Bishop, so it was a scramble to get out of work on time and make our flight. We hopped into Moncton, jumped in our rather gigantic vehicle, and drove to the farm, stopping for a treat along the way. We basically just rolled into Andrew + Denise’s and crashed.

The next morning they filled us up with bacon + eggs before we wandered next door to mom + dad’s house. The royal wedding was on so I escaped and read, then started setting up for a gathering. The rest of the Dickinsons were coming that day to intern and remember my aunt Anne, who passed away a few months ago (and who was the inspiration for my travel bug) and also celebrate my dad’s birthday. We gave him a book about Bob Dylan and a card with Albert Einstein’s picture that said “Have a relatively happy birthday!” and he seemed pretty happy about that.

That afternoon we buried Anne’s ashes down the road in the local cemetery, then hosted family and friends back at mom + dad’s house. It quickly transitioned into a birthday celebration for my dad, featuring a cake that was far bigger than the one my mom ordered. Lucky for all of us.

That night, after the crowds died down, we went next door to celebrate one more thing: brother #2 a) finishing his MBA and b) moving with his family to Cairo. (!) We had a drink or two, including the treat we picked up the night before: a bottle of 2006 Dom Pérignon.

The next morning the entire clan stuffed themselves into cars and drove to Parrsboro for breakfast at The Sunshine Inn. I think we exceeded their kitchen capacity / timing as things came out all helter-skelter and one order got missed entirely, but we all got fed in the end. At one point someone local walked in and said “The Catholics are coming!” but no one (at least, no mob of overt Catholics?) arrived. Maybe we ate all the bread.

Late in the afternoon, to accommodate our schedule, brother #1 barbecued up a truly prodigious amount of meat. We scarfed a bunch down and then drove back to Moncton to do laundry, sleep, re-pack, and fly to Dublin.

 

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So: Congratulations Andrew.

Happy birthday dad.

And Anne: we miss you.

Temporary displacement

We’re having renos done on the loft right now. The bathroom already looks great, but the big change is the kitchen, which started Thursday. Everything’s been ripped out. Custom kitchen’s coming in next week, along with all-new appliances. The ones that were here when I bought are ugly and half-busted, and they gotta go. Not to mention the counter. Ugh.

Before:

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Midway:

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“After” pictures to come, I guess. Pray for us.

Meanwhile, we had to get out of the place during the worst of it, so we checked into the Broadview Hotel for a couple of nights. It’s nice, but the rooms are small. And expensive. And (in some cases) overlooking an alley. But also a dog park, so there’s that. I enjoyed the room, the turntable, and the view Friday while I waited for Lindsay to get home after work.

When she got home we were looking for someplace really tasty, but also really laid back. Eastbound was rammed, but we played a hunch and checked out The White Lily Diner, where we’d only ever eaten brunch. After a short wait for a table we sat ourselves down, took advantage of half-price-wine-on-Friday (Closson Chase Chardonnay, as it turns out) and ordered SO much food. Beet salad to start, then a hot turkey sandwich for Lindsay and the special for me, which was basically a giant bone-in piece of pork belly. And enough slaw to seed a lawn. Christ.

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We somehow split a vanilla pudding covered in chocolate sauce and crumbled peanut butter cookie (!) for dessert, and then dragged our asses home where we promptly fell asleep watching The Office. Wild Friday nights r us.

After getting up and doing work this morning we dashed downstairs for breakfast in their cafe, getting steak + eggs (Linds) and buckwheat pancakes covered in peanut butter mousse (me) plus fancy juices. After checking out we walked home to check out the damage — not bad, but not a place we’d be able to effectively work, so we buggered off to Boxcar Social, and then Chez Nous, for coffee –> beer –> wine –> snacks.

I was going to say that we’d need to stop eating like this, but as long as our kitchen is strictly theoretical, I guess there’s a risk we keep this up. OH WELL.

Cinco de Mayo

We had a fun little Cinco de Mayo treat yesterday: while sleepily watching episode one of Wormwood a friend of Lindsay’s, who was catching a connecting flight through Pearson, called to say her flight home had been delayed and she wanted to come hang out. Another friend of theirs from out of town picked her up and drove to our place, where we had a bit of breakfast and a little Kew blanc de blancs (it was after 11; I checked), and eventually went to La Carnita for some tacos and (free!) churros and terrific Bellwoods sours. After lunch we drank some iced coffee from Boxcar so we didn’t enter taco comas, then stopped back at Sweet Jesus for some thank-god-it’s-finally-summer ice cream.

After they left we tried to watch episode two but conked out for a nap, then finished the ep. After some relaxing and milling about we decided to go to The Civic for dinner. Bit of an impromptu fancy meal, but that was what we were feeling. We had:

  • a dozen oysters (we only ordered a half dozen but hey, they showed up!)
    • glasses of Cava
  • red deer tartare w/ shallot, caper berry, house-prepared mustard seeds, juniper, and black licorice
    • glasses of California cab sauv
  • Hokkaido scallops w/ arancini, rapini, burnt onion, brown butter, spring pea purée (Lindsay)
  • 20oz Tamshire pork T-bone, green beans w/ mint + almond (Dan)
    • bottle of 2009 Domaine Belleville Rully Blanc
  • Two cheeses
    • glasses of 20 year old Tawny Port

Mmmm, good. Good Cinco de Mayo.

Cover photo by Rich Kaszeta, used under Creative Commons license

“There’s a lot of gasping in this house.”

After winding down a long work week at Chez Nous, followed by a satisfying Raptors game to close out the Wizards in 6, I settled in to wait for Lindsay to arrive home. After she landed Saturday we had just enough time to stuff in some lunch at Eastbound and then turn around to head down to Niagara-on-the-Lake. We (and CBJ+M) were having dinner and spending the night at our friends Brian & Mandy’s place.

We had a look around at the new house developments, began the wine drinking, shared a meat + cheese platter from Sandy Aleksander, ate a delicious dinner centered around an enormous prime rib, drank several Ontario reds (a 2010 Hidden Bench Terroir Caché, a 2011 Hidden Bench La Brunante, and a 2010 Tawse T-Blend Red) and a 2010 Le Vieux Pin Syrah from BC, played Pictionary and Cards Against Humanity and pool, nibbled on pie, and then fell asleep. This morning CBJ made us all a stellar breakfast before we rolled on out of there.

Lindsay and I hit a few wineries on our way home: Kew for some sparkling, and Hidden Bench to pick up the latest vintages of Terroir Caché and Tête de Cuvée Chardonnay. Maura from Hidden Bench had been the one commenting on my Instagram posts of the previous nights’ bottles, so it was nice to connect in person this morning.

We had a long slow slog back into Toronto but eventually dropped the car off and settled at home. We had a bit of a crash-out afternoon too, I’m afraid.

Thanks for having us kids.

.:.

Cover photo by Rich Kaszeta, used under Creative Commons license

 

Public speaking

This week has already turned into a bit of a gong show, which has me thinking wistfully back to a wonderful weekend. First, and maybe most importantly, the weather finally turned springlike. Hallelujah.

We had a nice (read: farging huge) Saturday breakfast at the Broadview Hotel café. Lindsay had duck benedict. I had a stack of pancakes covered in peanut butter mousse, I shit you not. Then we drove out to Mississauga to meet our contractor for some kitchen renovation design decisions. While there we bought a whackload of pretty new appliances (all European: Bosch, Miele, and Liebherr) at Tasco and kitchen fixtures at Taps. After all that we drove home, dumped the car, and sauntered up to The Wren where we…well, drank too much. But I mean, their bottle list is just so good.

On Sunday we went back to the Broadview Hotel café for the schmear platter (sesame + poppy seed bagels, citrus-cured salmon, capers, pickled onions, sliced cucumber, smoked mackerel + crème frâiche, horseradish + chive cream cheese, caper lemon + dill whipped ricotta) and Cava before heading up to the Hot Docs theatre to see one of Lindsay’s idols: Fran Lebowitz, in conversation. She’s a consummate wit, and entertained us greatly whilst fending off stupid (and uncomfortably weird, in one case) questions. Fran had a meaningful role in the early days of our relationship too, so…special. Lovely.

Yesterday wasn’t so bad either, frankly — I flew to Ottawa in the morning for meetings, flew back late in the afternoon, did a bunch of work, stopped in at Eastbound, and then met Linds at The Roy for pub heaviness and mediocre beer. Honestly, though, the service and vibe at that place are why we always want to go back.

Pa’lante

Even though I moved to this neighbourhood a year ago — almost exactly a year ago, actually — I hadn’t been back to The Opera House to see a gig. In fact, looking back through this here blog machine, I see that it’s been (again, almost exactly) sixteen years since I watched Spiritualized play there, and more than fifteen years since I watched my beloved Sleater-Kinney blow us all up there. Nothing since though, at least as best I can remember.

The reason I say all this: Thursday, after some dinner at La Carnita, we headed to the Opera House for a triple bill. We arrived in the middle of Bedouine‘s (website) set, which sounded lovely. I wish we’d seen a little more of her.

Next up was Hurray For The Riff Raff (website), a band I’ve listened to a fair bit in the past and whose last album I really liked. I would have gone to see them on their own; the fact that they were co-headlining with another excellent band made this ticket a steal. I loved their set — singer/guitarist/songwriter Alynda Lee Segarra has a voice that doesn’t seem real, and an incandescent stage presence. Some of their songs are fun; some are heavy as fuck (like “Kids Who Die” which Segarra wrote after reading the Langston Hughes poem), but all were captivating.

The headliner that night was Waxahatchee (bandcamp), whose last album I also loved. Their set was a little less incendiary than HFTRR’s, but as solid as I wanted: lots of songs from the last album, a few good cuts from Ivy Tripp, fun banter. It had me listening to their whole repertoire the next day.

Also: walking in our front door, like, three minutes after the show ended? Sweet.

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Third winter

While Toronto comes to grips with this crazy goddamn three-day rain/snow/ice storm I/we have been just trying to stay warm and fed.

On Friday I tried to meet someone at the new Walrus pub at Bay & Wellington at 5, which was a mistake, because it was a sea of suits. We opted instead for the chef’s table at Beerbistro, which were the last two seats they had, and any port in a storm and all that. Afterward I wanted some dinner while Lindsay made her way home on a train, and sandwiched between unsuccessful attempts to find a spot at a Keg and Ardo I ended up stopping in C’est What for a couple of drinks. Happily enough my buddy Jeff was working that night so we got to chat for a bit. I ended up just getting shawarma on my way home, which was delicious, even if it almost burned my face off.

Saturday morning I got up early, trying to get some errands done and supplies bought from St. Lawrence Market before the worst of the storm arrived. I did so, but later in the day we were both a bit hungry and decided to brave the ice pellets anyway, getting some lunch and beers at Eastbound.

After that it was all hatches being battened down as we huddled to watch the Raptors win game 1 of a series (finally!) and catch Lindsay up on Fargo and scarf pizza and Two Sisters cab franc.

Sunday was a whole lot of work and a little relaxation (including more Fargo) indoors as we tried to ignore the Hoth-like conditions outside our windows. We did have a delicious pasta and 2007 Nebbiolo to end the evening though.

Image from http://www.les400coups.ca/en

Montreal, mozzarella, and a near miss

I was back in Montreal this weekend for more fun and relaxation and Roscoe-visits. Once again we spent some time at Lindsay’s, and some time downtown in Old Montreal.

I arrived after work on Thursday, and between being tired and Lindsay being sick we didn’t have much in us other than to order some Uniburgers (which were damned good) and drink some of the Péché Day 4-pack that she bought for me at the Metro a few weeks ago.

The next morning I got up and let Lindsay sleep while I walked to Maamm Bolduc for breakfast with Mark. We scarfed sausages & eggs & fruit & potatoes & coffee and felt we had the energy to get into the day. We walked home and I found Lindsay feeling a little better, but we still took it pretty easy on the day: we watched a bunch of Fargo and ate some snacks and had a little nap, all in service of conserving her energy for dinner. We had plans to take Sara and Mark to Maison Publique to celebrate Mark’s birthday.

The dinner was, as always, outstanding. We had Quebec sparkling, fennel salad, Domaine Queylus Pinot Noir, deer tartare, duck sausage, this outstanding ‘nduja sausage ravioli in brown butter sauce, Frogpond Cabernet Franc, pork belly, halibut, a couple of pôts de crème, and some kind of fortified barrel-aged maple syrup. It was all incredible. Our night wasn’t quite done though — we decided to have a few beers at Pub Pit Caribou. It was a later night than someone just getting over a cold should have done, but Lindsay held up like a trooper, and I was really excited to get back to Pit Caribou for a second time.

The next morning was a little rough, so we all dragged our asses down to Maamm Bolduc again, and had pretty much the same breakfast (with some Caesars). That helped. After that, Lindsay and I said our goodbyes to Sara and Mark and zipped downtown to our hotel for the night: the Auberge du Vieux Port. Our room wasn’t quite ready so we ran out to Pub Brewskey for a beer and a bite. We split the same bottle of A La Fût Flanders Red that I drank myself (!) while here last fall.

We hung out back in the room for a few hours, then walked to dinner at Les 400 Coups, a joint recommended to Lindsay a while back. It was quiet when we got there (8pm is early for dinner in Montreal, I guess) but soon picked up. The service experience was slightly uneven, but the food – New Brunswick oysters; oxtail dumplings w/ wild bay leaf, and shiitake mushrooms; red chicory salad w/ pear, maple, and sunchoke; beef tartare w/ bone marrow, crispy shallots, espelette, and wild rice; scallops w/ glazed pork belly, sweet potato, and oyster mushrooms – was excellent. The drinks were great too: we had a lovely Blanc de Noirs when we sat down, took sommelier Jonathan’s excellent recommendation (2015 Allegracore Etna Rosso Doc) to have with our meal, including some stellar cheese for first dessert. Then second dessert – a crazily rich chocolate moelleux with dulce de leche – was paired with something I’ve never seen before: a Tannat dessert wine. When remarking to the sommelier that this was a strange new find for us, he recognized that we were a worthy audience for some other treats stashed behind the bar: a prune eau de vie, some kind of beautiful tomato (!) liqueur, and a craft elderflower liqueur that makes me never ever want to see St Germain again. What a lovely experience.

Sunday morning I checked out Café Olimpico, which had good Americanos and superb croissants, and we chilled in the room for the morning before checking out. We grabbed lunch at the hotel’s restaurant, Taverne Gaspar (surprisingly good mussels and fish + chips, actually) then posted up at Olimpico to do some work and drink some cortados.

We decided to grab some early dinner at Mangiafoco before my flight. Last time I came to Montreal we stayed right across the street from it, but hadn’t noticed. Turns out it has very good pizza, and amazing cheese. (It actually bills itself as a “Mozzarella Bar,” bless its heart.) We had burrata with tomatoes and some salumi, and a sausage pizza, and a very nice bottle of Pinot Nero from Piemonte, and a nice apple-y dessert. While we were sitting there my flight got delayed, and delayed again (turns out a small airplane had broken down on the Toronto Island runway, wreaking havoc on all flights for the rest of the day) so we ended up going next door to Philemon Wine Bar for one last one: Franciacorta for Lindsay, and orange wine (again, from Piemonte) for me.

Finally I jumped into an Uber, which turned out to be an ordeal: one highway closure and this guy was utterly lost. After going in a circle and threatening to do it again I had to direct him out of downtown and to the airport, all while nearly missing a number of exits. I arrived at the airport to find out that if my flight was delayed so much as five minutes we risked being redirected to Pearson, or even Hamilton, but Porter came through and got us off the ground in record time. We landed with thirteen minutes to spare.

 

Tastes exactly 57 years better

Last night a few of us gathered for a little work celebration dinner at Jacobs. I wasn’t going to say no to that.

We had cocktails and oysters and jumbo shrimp and beer tartare and caesar salads to start. We had the UN assembly of steaks for our mains (Wagyu from Japan, non-Wagyu from the US, Argentina, and Canada, all in descending order of deliciousness) along with mushrooms and spinach and duck fat fries and multiple bottles of Ridge and a Bordeaux I didn’t catch the name of (because I didn’t order it). We had 1986 Don PX to drink, except we all shared a glass of the 1929 just to taste the difference, and my god the difference.

I don’t care what anyone says. Best steakhouse in Toronto.