PaiGu

Yogoberri is one of those places you pass by and you think, “Hey, that looks cute. I want to try that one day.” Well, that one day came on Saturday night, when my friends and I were driving up and down Yonge St, looking for a place to hang out after dinner. Suddenly, I pulled the car into a small parking lot.
“Where have you taken us?” They asked, as they looked up through the glass window of Yogoberri to see a few Asians chatting over dessert.
Without a word, I walked up to the door and held it open for them. In they filed, and up the stairs we went, arriving at a small but busy room, decorated with black and white leather seats, green highlights, and fake potted plants along the wall.

I immediately plastered myself against their cake display. There were only three cakes on display, sweet potato, butternut squash, and fruit cake, but I also saw signs for mocha and green tea. I was smitten.

My friends and I ended up ordering a slice of each cake, as well as half a waffle (I’ve never seen half-waffles being sold but here they were). Each slice was amazing, although I ended up buying the sweet potato cake to bring home for my dad’s birthday, because it had the kind of taste you can never get sick of – subtle, sweet, and smooth.


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I’m a huge ice cream lover. There is no denying it. Sometimes, I try to pretend I don’t rely on ice cream to live, but who am I kidding? I go one day without eating ice cream and I feel like I’ve had an organ removed.

The great thing about ice cream is that it doesn’t really need anything else. Great ice cream tastes amazing by itself. That’s why I never really understood the likes of Marble Slab. Sure, their ice cream is good, but what’s with all the stuff on the side? Is that really necessary?
Maybe, maybe not.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m the first one to admit that cookie dough in ice cream is so delicious it should be a sin just to think about, but sometimes adding too much “extra stuff” takes away from the ice cream itself. Because, let’s not forget who the hero in this whole scenario is. It’s the ice cream. The cookie dough or the brownie bits or the M&Ms are just accessories.

But a few days ago, the very rock upon which I stood was shaken by Symposium Cafe’s “East Meets West” ice cream crepe extravaganza. Yes, it was an extravaganza, nothing less. It was a giant plate of vanilla ice cream on the one side and chocolate ice cream on the other, wrapped in a paper-thin crepe and drizzled with chocolate fudge and strawberry sauce. But it was more than that. There were strawberries. There were bananas. There was also whipped cream. It was so good I was afraid I might have an orgasm right there in that plastic lawn chair¹.

I had to admit that perhaps, on this particular stage, the ice cream wasn’t the main star. Nor the crepe, the strawberries, the bananas, or the whipped cream. In fact, there wasn’t a main star at all. It was only when all the ingredients were taken as one that the explosion of tastes was created, and my ears were ringing with the tune of Symphony No. 5.

My friend was also conducting her own symphony with the mixed fruit medley cheesecake, which I had a taste of and also found to be quite good (though not nearly as explosive as mine).

1. Don’t worry, of course I didn’t. Not only would that be highly inappropriate, but it would needlessly divert my focus away from my mouth [↩]

I went to Crave with my coworkers last night. The night was fun but the food was kind of hit-and-miss.

As usual, the ambience was dark and moody¹, as was our waitress. For a party our size, she really should have been more amicable if she was thinking about her tip. Not only was she cold and unhelpful, she was rather snotty².

The food took a while to come, but that may have been due to the size of our party (but 1 hour for dessert – really?). To start, I had the smoked duck carpaccio, which was quite lovely. The ground pistachios gave the arugala a nutty taste and some texture, making the otherwise bland greens much more interesting. They were quite liberal in dousing the duck meat in orange-ginger sauce, considering that the meat was already very well marinated, but in between mouthfuls of the greens and the duck meat, it didn’t seem to get in the way of the subtle smokey taste. The peppercorns were a bit strong, although they do give the dish a nice dash of colour.

I chose my entree for its interesting description. “Malibu chicken” was a dish of coconut-crusted chicken breast, with a rum mango pina colada sauce, served with basmati rice, sautéed asparagus, red pepper, red onion and baby corn topped with crispy plantain chips. In the end, the dish did not live up to its description. There’s something wrong when the crispy plantain chips, a finishing garnish, has the best taste of the entire entree. The dish failed for several reasons. The chicken breast was not marinated under the batter, the batter was fried for too long, and it was not sticking to the chicken breast at all. The last is an easy problem to solve for anyone who’s ever made fried chicken or pork. All you have to do to get the batter to stick to the meat is dip the meat in eggs before applying the batter! Surely, the chef at Crave should have been capable of such a simple addition to the recipe. The fact that the batter kept coming off meant that most of the time I was eating the (un-marinated) chicken breast and the (over-fried) batter separately. Not all that enjoyable, as you can imagine.

The sauce was also rather strange. The taste of pina colada was too strong, and quite frankly, a weird combination with the fried chicken breast. Maybe if they put more rum into the sauce, I could’ve overlooked the strange taste, but alas, the combination was simply not right. The sauteed vegetables and asparagus were rather bland, although the basmati rice was surprisingly fragrant. A last, saving characteristic for a wholly unimpressive dish.

To compliment the meal, I had a glass of Wolf Blass Riesling, which was on the dry end for a riesling (probably a 1 on the sugar scale) to my disappointment. It ended up working out nicely though, since the sauce on both the appetizer and the main were sweeter than expected.

For dessert, I had the Crav’in chocolate brownie. Dessert is always my favourite course, and this one certainly satisfied my sugar craving! The chocolate-peanut gelato was just superb, and I loved the whole peanuts hidden throughout (I always love a good crunch). The brownie was very rich and dense, so much so that I couldn’t finish it. But overall, a great way to end the night.

Would I come back? $55 (including tax and tip) for a three-course meal doesn’t exactly scream enticing to me, especially when the main was so disappointing, but maybe for a date if I’m craving (haha) over-priced food.

Rating:

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1. What’s with this trend of poorly lit restaurants? Is it like the more expensive a place is, the darker it should be? [↩]
2. When I asked my coworker what was on the side of his appetizer – something that looked like bacon – she interjected with “It’s panchetta.” “Oh, ok… Wait, I know what that is! That’s bacon!” I swear her nose was pointing to the ceiling when she stalked away. [↩]