PaiGu

The Only on King has quickly become one of the most well-known restaurants in London, thanks to a review in Canada’s enRoute magazine (the magazine for Air Canada), and subsequent media coverage of Paul Harding and Jason Schubert’s endeavour to run a restaurant where all food is locally sourced. That means the menu changes according to season (and what they can get from their farmers), which is a challenge to explain to today’s “I get what I want” customers. However, one bite of their French and Italian inspired dishes will keep those whining mouths shut, and keep customers coming back.

I first heard about The Only from some foodie friends, who mentioned there was a new restaurant on the block rapidly rising to stardom after being named one of Canada’s best new restaurants. At the time, I had no idea they were also one of the only restaurants attempting to “do the sustainability thing.” It wasn’t until we invited Paul and Jason to speak at a sustainability event at the business school that I really understood, and came to appreciate, their unique venture. Paul and Jason get all their ingredients from local farmers, who they have established great relationships with. However, this means their menu is completely dependent on what is “in season” or what they can get from their farmers that day/week/month. Obviously, costs are going to be higher for ingredients that are local, organic, or both, and it can be reflected in their slightly higher prices. However, they claim to offer top-notch service on top of great tasting food, so you get what you pay for.

I made a reservation for six people on a Monday night, but unfortunately, only three could make it. Before I had even taken off my coat, the waiter scolded me for not calling ahead of time to let them know our reduced party size. It wasn’t so much what he said that put me off, it was how he said it – as if I was a human being lacking in basic decency. Well, sorry if half my party decided not to show up at the last minute. Did that give him the right to scold me? Did that give him the right to ruin my meal before it had even begun? Was this the great service they prided themselves on?

I was quite miffed as I sat down, and wondered if he would have scolded another customer the same way if it had been a 50 year-old man as opposed to a 20 year-old girl. I decided to ignore it, since I had been looking forward to coming to The Only for quite some time. Besides, he wasn’t our server for the night, and our server turned out to be very nice, and even humoured us when we started talking about premium gins¹ by bringing some out.

Between the three of us, we ordered three appetizers, two intermediates, and one main. The serving sizes were quite reasonable, and the meal turned out to be more filling than we anticipated, so none of us had room for dessert by the end.

The artichoke soup was first to arrive.

I have never had artichoke soup before, so it is hard for me to judge the quality of this particular bowl of liquid cream. Other than the fact that it was very creamy and not too flavourful, the soup made no distinct impression on me (certainly not my favourite dish of the night).

Then came the winter vegetable salad. My friend ordered this because she was curious what would constitute a “winter vegetable” as opposed to a spring/summer/fall vegetable.

I was amused with the “really good Tuscan olive oil” description on the menu. I am not sure if this was the same olive oil that they used on the rest of the dishes, but I realized by the end of the night that I did not like this “really good Tuscan olive oil.” At the time though, the taste of the salad suited me just fine. Unfortunately, we could not identify most of the ingredients, other than winter cabbage, carrots, and radish.

My appetizer was a quail, which out to be more of an “intermediate” than an appetizer.

It was very well-seasoned, and the meat was not too tough even though the skin was toasted to a crisp. The “boneless” part was a lie, as you can obviously tell from the photo, but I actually prefer bone-in meats, because meat near bones tend to be more tender². Smoked capicolo is basically bacon, and it is actually not in this photo because the chefs forgot to put it on the dish when they first brought it out. Our waiter later brought me a few pieces, which was quite yum. And for a creative finish, the sour cherries were a delightful twist.

The first intermediate to arrive was my friend’s house-made gnocchi.

Naturally, this dish did not appeal to me because of the abundance of cheese. Nonetheless, I tried some, and discovered a surprisingly unhappy aftertaste, to which my immediate reaction was “nyech!”

While we tried to deduce what made me react negatively to the dish, I found that my own intermediate had the same unpleasant aftertaste.

Despite how I tried to enjoy my dish, I simply couldn’t. We finally pinned down my cause for displeasure: it was in the olive oil. Something in the olive oil did not agree with my palate. And as much as I enjoyed the raw trout and the tender potato chunks, I could not develop an appreciation for this “really good” olive oil.

Instead, I shared the rest of my friend’s duck entree, which was delicious.

Maybe things flavoured with sauce as opposed to olive oil agrees better with me (which would make sense considering my palate is accustomed to the strong flavours prevalent in Chinese dishes), or maybe the chefs here are just really good at game meats. Either way, the duck breast was tender and savoury with a crispy skin. The meat was medium rare and lightly seasoned, yet it was very xian³. The cabbage and peas tasted great in the calvados sauce. Like the sour cherries in my quail dish, the poached apricot gave this dish a sweet twist.

The restaurant is small, but the ambience was mixed. It wasn’t quite homey, but it wasn’t quite upper-class either. There was a sleek elegance to its understated wooden furnishings. The bar was very well-stocked with some premium liquors and a varied wine selection. I would say they delivered quality service if it wasn’t for the initial lecture I received. The servers were well-versed on the background of the restaurant, but you can tell the chefs are the one running the show (the servers could not withstand prolonged questioning on the ingredients of particular dishes).

Would I come back? Certainly, but not often at these prices. And next time, I’ll steer clear of anything infused with olive oil.

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1. She realized she had the bottle(s) we had been discussing, and brought them over to our table to show us, since we’d forgotten the name(s). [↩]
2. There are three reasons for this: 1) because it’s buried down inside the meat, the bone and its surroundings don’t get as hot and cook as fast as the outer parts do; 2) there are more tendons and connective tissue near bones, and the collagen protein in these tissues turn into gelatin when heated, and 3) sometimes, there is more fat near bones, and we all know how delicious animal fat is. Reference: What Einstein Told His Cook by Robert L. Wolke. [↩]
3. Xian is Chinese word to describe a particularly savoury taste, of which there is no English equivalent. In Japanese, it is called umami. [↩]

Jambalaya is a cozy, Bohemian restaurant that stands uniquely apart from its counterparts on Richmond Row in London Ontario. While the rest of the street is lined with such fancy bistros and restaurants as the Black Trumpet, The Tasting Room, and its next-door neighbour, Blue Ginger, Jambalaya has its own style and is not shy to flaunt it. Jambalaya’s menu is a mix of Carribean, Cajun, and Thai, with the three culinary flavours sometimes overlapping in its dishes. For example, their well-known pad thai is also available with jerk sauce.

The outside of the restaurant looks like an old, run-down house from the 60s, with a small elevated porch facing the street. Once inside however, the atmosphere immediately changes. I have never felt so distinctly transported to a different time and place as I have at Jambalaya.

With the late afternoon light streaming through the stained glass windows, the painted walls turned into various shades of gay green-yellow. Although the restaurant is quite small, the quiet conversation of nearby tables did not distract me once. The wall was also sparsely decorated with African crafts, which was a nice touch. They obviously put a lot of thought into the atmosphere, and I’d say they were successful.

I ordered a Mango Loco to drink, which is a cocktail blend of vodka, triple sec, and guava juice. It tasted (and looked) exactly like mango, but there was no mango in it. Intuitively interesting, but if I hadn’t known it, it would’ve just been an ordinary mango and vodka concoction.
To start, I had Carribean fried plantains, which I didn’t take a picture of because I was so hungry when they finally came out that I dug in right away. They were extremely oily, so I kind of wished the chef blotted them with a paper towel before bringing them out, but the oil was fresh so it didn’t feel greasy. There was nothing special about them – I’m quite certain if I fried plantains at home, they would taste exactly the same.
For the main, I settled on their famous chicken pad thai.

At first, I was put off by the presentation – I mean, a metal pot, really? But I suppose it suited the flair of the restaurant, so I quelled my critic and tasted the food. The glass noodles could’ve used a bit more oil so they weren’t sticking together in lumps, and a telling indication was the lumps of burnt noodle. Moreover, the chicken pieces were cut in large chunks instead of strips, and not surprisingly they were overcooked and extremely bland. Despite my reservations about the cooking skill, the pad thai sauce was excellent. Just the right hint of sweetness with a spiciness that increased as I ate more. It’s really a shame that the dish was not cooked better, since the sauce was so good. Such amateur mistakes really, that could’ve been easily remedied with a bit more oil and better timing.

There was no dessert menu, much to my dismay, but I was nonetheless satisfied with the meal. To say that it is the “best pad thai in southwestern Ontario” requires quite a stretch of imagination, but they certainly have a great sauce. I may come back again to try a different entree, but as for pad thai, the best I’ve had in London still comes from my own kitchen.

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After an exhausting shopping marathon, my friend and I decided to visit the Milestones in Masonville Mall. The decor was very elegant and modern, just what you’d expect from Milestones. The lighting was dim but not dark, the atmosphere was intimate but not quite romantic (probably due to the straight edges and black furniture of the modern decor), and the service was impeccable.

As soon as we sat down, we were introduced to the “wish list,” which was filled with imaginative cocktails and mouth-watering desserts. My friend and I immediately knew what we wanted for dessert, and decided to order our entree with that in mind. I had the recommended Milestones Original Bellini, which was a colourful mix of premium white rum, peach liqueur and sparkling white wine, topped with Boone’s sangria. The peach liqueur with sparkling white wine was what drew me to this drink, but the sangria was the real topping on the cake.

I ordered Thai chicken tacos, which were a huge platter of three Indian flatbreads with slaw, three skewers of chicken, and two dipping sauces. One dipping sauce was a mango vinaigrette, which was refreshing and only slightly sour. The other was a peanut satay sauce, which was not very peanut-y at all and not viscous enough. The satays were grilled to perfection, but were not marinaded in the traditional Asian style. The slaw was filled with coriander, which I detest, so I could not have very much, but what I did have was crunchy and fresh. The Indian flatbreads were warm and fluffy, but quite tasteless. I had very little of my entree because everything was covered in coriander, so the platter was still as full when it left as when it arrived.

My friend and I each ordered a dessert and split it (though I’ve now forgotten the names and it’s not on their website). One was a chocolate cake with vanilla gelato and whipped cream on top (I think it was called Ibana), covered in caramel. The caramel tasted in-house, in a good sort of way, and the vanilla gelato tasted amazing with the rich chocolate cake. The other was a dark chocolate pie with a pecan crust. The dark chocolate was an interesting experience, since it was still rather creamy and milky, but it was less sweet with subtle bitter undertones. The pecan crust was the real masterpiece. I’m not a huge fan of pecan but this was quite a treat. Unfortunately, the dessert is not made in-house, so I can’t give Milestones credit for that.

Overall, the experience was relaxing and enjoyable. The entree was memorable only because I could not eat most of it due to the coriander, but the dessert and the bellini more than made up for it.

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