Much like we did three years ago, we used a freebie from my Hyatt loyalty account on a tiny staycation night at The Anndore House in midtown. It feels good to be back in my old neighbourhood, even if it has changed a lot. To wit: when we left the hotel for dinner, walking up Yonge Street in front of the Charles Street McDonald’s, some dude was smoking crack and we got a great big face full of it.
The afore-mentioned dinner was our first visit to Alobar Yorkville. In short: hugely disappointing. Before I get into why, here’s what we ate:
- Starters
- cocktails
- torched hamachi w/ asian pear, miso, ginger
- white asparagus w/ pommery mustard, ricotta salata
- foie gras parfait w/ rhubarb, pistachio, lemon balm
- Mains (we got a lot; we wanted to try a few things)
- red snapper w/ coriander, anaheim chili, pine nut
- grilled sea bream w/ piquillo pepper, caper, olive
- cacio e pepe canestri pasta w/ pecorino, Ibérico lardo, black pepper
- sides: broccolini, pain au lait
- bottle of Matthiasson “Linda Vista” Chardonnay 2022
- glasses of some Niagara sparkling
I do have to start off by saying that they were nice about us being fifteen minutes late (our hotel door wouldn’t lock, so we got delayed dealing with that), but as soon as we walked in I was taken aback by the vibe. I guess I was expecting Alo junior, but I should have known that in Yorkville things are different. We were definitely surrounded by couples more interesting in Instagramming the food (and themselves) than in eating.
Meanwhile, the food was almost aggressively mediocre. Take away the wine and you would have had to divide the price by three to make it feel like good value for money. Galaxies away from what I expected out of something with the Alo name. I have no idea how that place won a Michelin star two years in a row. (Though, not last year, apparently.)
A note on that wine: normally I wouldn’t order American in our current climate, but given our dishes we figured we’d need a good Chard to match, but every Chardonnay on the list save one was from the US. I’d been wanting to try Matthiasson wines for a while, so: fine. But what a bizarre situation.
The service was okay, not great. Hard to get their attention when you needed it, but pleasant enough. We did get kind of annoyed when they asked to clear room for the mains when we were still trying to finish our starters. We didn’t really understand why until we were about 80% finished the mains, and the manager came over to let us know they needed the table in five minutes. Uhh…what? We realized we must have missed a note in the reservation email that there’s a time limit per table (there was: two hours) so that’s on us. But, to be honest, those time limits often go out the window when you’ve ordered as much food and wine as we had. Not that we were counting on that — we didn’t even know there was a time limit — but it felt off-piste from other truly high-end restaurants. Anyway, we threw the last bites of food down our necks, chugged half-full glasses of blanc de blancs, paid the bill, and left.
We were craving dessert, so we decided to stop at a neighbourhood institution: 7 West. A piece of Dad’s chocolate cake and some boozy coffee later, we finally felt satisfied. A good recovery.
A nice lie-in later we grabbed some brunch in our hotel, at Constantine. Once again, we were disappointed — less with the food (my duck confit hash was good, Lindsay’s shakshuka was fine, and the scone was fresh…though only one arrived when the menu said “scones”) than with the service which was weirdly incessant from the moment we sat down. Granted, it was empty in there, but…we gave our brunch cocktail order, and before he’d even bothered to bring them to us he was back asking about our main food order. Then we had our mains before I had the cappuccino I’d ordered when we sat down. The only time he wasn’t around was when we wanted to leave. Anyway, it was on-theme for the weekend: expensive and disappointing.
Something else that was expensive, but not disappointing, was a trip to the Rimowa store. We already have two of their carry-ons, but our old Samsonite full-size has just about had it, so it was time for new blood. We brought home a beaut. Now we just need a trip to break it in.
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 