My friend celebrated her birthday by giving us all an excuse to pig out on pub food and chocolate cake.

I love La Rocca cakes, and the Nut Buster is one of my favourites, but I also had a chance to try their Strawberry Shortcake, which was amazing and inspired me to make my own.

More birthday celebrations at The Old Spaghetti Factory, followed by a late night preview of Star Trek.

Another birthday celebration, this time at my favourite upscale restaurant in Yorkville: Sassafraz.

Lunch in Korea town (North York) at the much-loved Owl of Minerva, followed by bowling to work off all those delicious panchan and entrees.

Unfortunately, my camera ran out of batteries halfway through the month, so I have no pictures from:
Lettieri Espresso + Bar – their almond biscotti was good, but definitely not made in-house
Panorama Restaurant and Lounge – a disappointing coffee creme brulee
Northern Dumpling Kitchen – review coming soon
Mengrai Gourmet Thai – decent pad thai (not very flavourful, although heaped with toppings), excellent service, and a very interesting green tea creme brulee

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.

Rating:

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.

What drew me to The Tasting Room initially was its large selection of appetizers, which came in large enough portions to constitute a small meal, or to share. Their Scallops Wrapped with Bacon are out of this world, but to be honest, so are most of their appetizers. Carribean Shrimp and Banana Curry is another unique appetizer that cannot be missed. The Calamari was a little on the bland side, but the Coconut Lobster Lollipops certainly made up for it. Prices for these appetizers are close to their entrees, but so are the sizes.

Their daily soup has also been consistently satisfactory. The daily soup is not on their menu, but I recall enjoying an excellent Black Bean Soup on two different occasions. I have not tried their entrees, as I am always full after the appetizers, but I have it on good authority that their seafood pasta is well-stocked for a $13 entree (lunch, $19 dinner).

They also have a very reasonable wine flight for anyone interested in a little wine tasting. Their servers are knowledgable, friendly, and always provide impeccable service. My only complaint is that their washroom facilities are far too small, but the rest of the restaurant is stylishly decorated.
Rating:

Our party of 7 arrived at 7pm without a reservation, but were seated within about 40 minutes. The restaurant was busy but the waiters were nonetheless attentive and quick to take our orders. We ordered off the Summerlicious menu, which was pleasantly varied and a great deal ($25 + tax and tip) for a three-course meal.

I had the Sun Ripened Watermelon & Tomato Gazpacho to start, the Preserved Lemon & Chili Chicken entree, and Warm Strawberry & Rhubarb Buckle to finish. The appetizer was a disappointing start to the meal, as it was too sour for my tastes. The sourness overwhelmed all other flavours so that the watermelon did not come through at all.

I had a taste of my friend’s Potted Tiger Shrimp Pate, which was much better than my sour bowl of questionable yellow contents. Perhaps I just ordered the wrong thing.

The entree was two pieces of chicken breast (skin on), generously rubbed with seasoning, sitting atop two slices of tomato. The seasoning for the chicken was great, but unfortunately, like all chicken breasts I seem to try, they were thick and dry and bland past skin surface. The yogurt sauce was also extremely strange and did not compliment the spelt salad at all.

Is this what all chicken entrees are doomed to be? Why are restaurants so adamant to do a chicken breast entree when they can just as easily use boneless, skinless chicken thighs that are so much more tender and flavourful? And why do they refuse to marinate the white meat? Why must the seasoning be restricted to a superficial layer on the outside? I simply cannot understand.

My friends ordered the lamb brochette, which I did not try because I’m not a fan of lamb but I was told it was all done “medium” when they’d asked for rare.

Then there was dessert. Ah, dessert. Always my favourite course. It was at this point that the restaurant finally managed to get back on my good side, with an amazing, crumbly strawberry and rhubarb buckle. I haven’t made up my mind as to whether or not I like rhubarb, and there wasn’t a lot of it in the dessert. It was topped with a heavenly toasted almond ice cream.

The best part of the dessert was not the ice cream nor the rhubarb (or lack thereof), but the amazing texture of the slice. It was crunchy on the outside and moist and soft on the inside. It wasn’t incredibly rich, and it wasn’t soggy either. I didn’t think it was possible for this restaurant to redeem itself after I left my appetizer untouched and my entree only half-eaten, but the dessert really was quite perfect.
I had a taste of my friend’s eton mess, which really did look messy, but in a colourful, unpretentious kind of way. The taste was sweet and fruity, but nowhere as good as my buckle.

The environment was a lively, classy one, which is surprising considering the restaurant is located in an unassuming plaza. I also cannot forget to mention that the service was excellent, especially considering our waiter took time to explain proper etiquette in getting a waiter’s attention (we asked) and listened while we explained the story behind the tapping of the table by Asian customers (he asked).
All in all, the meal did not live up to the name of the Oliver & Bonacini restaurant chain, but the dessert did.

Rating:
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