Craft Beer Market
975 Bank St., 613-422-7238, craftbeermarket.ca/ottawa

Joey Lansdowne
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 103, 613-695-5639, joeyrestaurants.com

Local Public Eatery
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 107, 613-233-3772, locallansdowne.com

In advance of the Ottawa Redblacks’ regular season opener this Saturday, I’ve been going to Lansdowne Park recently in search of food as exciting as the football games.

In the last few weeks, I’ve made two visits to each of the park’s big three premium casual restaurants — Joey Lansdowne and Local Public Eatery, both well established, and the newcomer, Craft Beer Market, which opened a bit more than a month ago.

There are, of course, other dining options at Lansdowne. But I wanted to do rough, if not exhaustive, assessments of these three roughly comparable eateries which — unlike neighbouring rivals such as Milestones and Jack Astor’s — are unique in Ottawa, if not in Canada. Indeed, Joey, Local and Craft are all offshoots of chains that originated in Western Canada, and there are more than 20 Joeys in North America. 

Of them, Local is the most casual, with a more compact menu that emphasizes burgers and finger food, and studied, rustic interior of wood and ductwork. Joey’s look makes more upmarket allusions, surrounding guests with a big brick wall, some retro signage and large, dark banquettes. Meanwhile, its menu offers a selection of steaks plus such worldly items as sushi, ramen and paella.

You could position Craft Beer Market somewhere between Joey and Local. It’s a mashup of sports bar and gastro pub, with a huge bar that has 100 beers on tap at the centre of its two-storey expanse. Craft is decorated with lots of beer kegs and plenty of TVs tuned to the game, and its menu offers, in addition to the usual fare, some dressed-up comfort food.  

All three places have kitchens that quickly produced our orders. The restaurants like to point out how much cooking actually goes on in those kitchens, with references to “hand-pressed” burger patties and “daily spun” ice cream dotting menus. Service at the eateries was always attentive and friendly.

At all three places, the prices were too often higher than I’d like. 

While Craft, Local and Joey are not quite interchangeable, some direct comparisons are possible. For example, I tried burgers at all three, and in each case received massive, meaty creations with nicely crusted, if less than juicy, patties and fresh toppings. The sesame-seed buns for the burgers at Joey and Local were identical, which might reflect the fact that the same restaurant group owns both eateries. The miso mustard on one of Local’s burgers ($12.25) made it my favourite.

“Baja” fish tacos at all three places were more perfunctory, generally very heavy on slaw or cilantro or both. Craft’s cod tacos ($13.50 for three) had the most flavour. The Local fish taco ($5 for one) was as heavily battered as the fish in its fish and chips. 

It’s interesting that tuna poke — a dish of diced and dressed (typically soy and ginger) cubes of raw fish that’s ubiquitous in Hawaii — hasn’t made it to many Ottawa restaurants. Local and Craft have brought the Pacific treat here. However, Local’s version ($13.50), served with its very good house-made corn chips, is just so-so, muddled in flavour and marred by mushy avocado. Craft’s has more clarity, but there’s also more cucumber than tuna to it.

Aside from those comparisons, I found strengths and weaknesses at each of the restaurants.

At Local, guacamole ($7) made table-side by a server was very good, lacking just a little lime juice, and a likeable starter with those very good chips. Yam fries with truffled aioli were spot-on. But the ginger sesame chicken salad ($15) was a bore, and a flat-iron steak sandwich ($19.50) was a touch underdone and too chewy. 

At Joey, fried calamari ($14) was disappointing — lacking seasoning and needing a punchier sauce. Gyoza with seared undersides ($13) were a little better, but not as good as those pork dumplings can be. The steak with mushrooms ($30) was adequate but again, better steaks can be had for less elsewhere. Miso ramen means to cash in on the hearty Japanese soup’s big moment ($17), but almost every component, and especially broth to noodles, fell short of authentic goodness. 

Two pleasant orders partially redeemed our dinner-time visit to Joey. The fully loaded and well-sauced rainbow roll made of tuna, salmon, avocado and bonafide, tasty crab ($15) did its sushi chef proud. Paella ($22.50) was a surprising success, with toothsome chicken and shrimp and meaningfully seasoned rice.  

At Craft, our general observation was that too many items, and in particular side orders of veg, were overly salted and seasoned — all the better to spur beer sales, perhaps.

But the main dishes we tried were appealing, including a chunk of brisket, sufficiently slow-braised to mimic short rib, a thick, if overly salty, pork chop, and a slow-roasted half-chicken that was appreciably moist and served with a fine jus (in a beer can, no less).

Dessert devotees will find little to like at Local. Its only meal-ender is a pail of large, doughy churros ($6) with a cup of too-thin cocoa for dipping.

At Craft, we tried the “house-made” but too-simple ice cream sandwiches ($9) made with Farm Boy salted caramel ice cream between two chocolate cookies. The homey “dessert in a jar” ($9) was an all-in-one of chocolate cake, sponge toffee, bananas, chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream that, despite all its ingredients, still seemed to be missing something.

At Joey, the molten chocolate soufflé ($9.50) oozed dark, intense chocolate, and was as over-the-top as those other desserts were under.

So, what would my best meal at Lansdowne be? I hope it’s not cheating to pick the guacamole and chips at Local followed by the rainbow roll at Joey and then Craft’s beer can chicken. Certainly none of my six meals was wholly exceptional, and most were at least a little uneven.

But then, if you’re at Lansdowne, you’re not simply there to eat, are you? Don’t you have a Redblacks game to get to?

Sansotei Ramen
153 Bank St., 613-695-1718, sansotei.com
Open: Monday to Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., closed Sunday 
Prices: noodle soups $10 to $10.75
Access: One step into restaurant

Ten minutes later, we were done. And we were very satisfied.

That meal at Sansotei Ramen was quick, tasty, cheap, belly-filling — and popular.

Before it opened two months ago, the restaurant on a quiet stretch of Bank Street north of Laurier Avenue had been much anticipated thanks to online buzz. Sansotei is the sister restaurant of a three-location chain in Toronto, and ramen devotees in Ottawa, where choices for the new millennium’s most trendy soup had been very limited, were keen to pounce on bowls of what they hoped would be the “real thing.” 

The rush for ramen, I digress, has occurred despite the fact that Ottawa is blessed with superior pho at locations too numerous to count, such that I wonder if foodies now take the city’s proliferation great Vietnamese soup for granted. But back to the review.

During the last month, I’ve made several trips to Sansotei, taking lunch or dinner early to beat the line-ups that often materialized. (The restaurant doesn’t take reservations.)

At the narrow, neutral, egalitarian place that seats 30, I’ve gotten right down to business, ordering quickly from the concise menu. The soups have landed speedily on my table, in just a bit more time than it’s taken to admire the low-key decor — thick ropes hanging overhead and one long mirrored wall makes the place appear larger. 

From the choices of a half-dozen or so starters and soups, I’ve had some consistently made treats, finding some treats worth craving and one or two things that appealed less.

All of Sansotei’s soups rely on pork-bone-based broth, made daily, and they’re differentiated by different additions that might include chicken or fish among their components and which meld beguilingly well. 

I’m most keen, but just by a bit, on the evocatively named tonkotsu black, which delivered with all its ingredients — a deeply savoury broth, topped with black garlic oil that felt fresh and revitalizing rather than simply heavy, toothsome noodles with some nice, springy resistance, two discs of pork belly with good meat-to-fat ratios and a proper sear, halves of soft-boiled egg, plus morsels of green onion and wood-ear mushroom to add crunch and focused flavours. 

Tonkotsu Black ramen at Sansotei Ramen

You would lose little if, in the name of avoiding post-meal garlic breath, you opted for simple tonkotsu minus the garlic oil.

Tonkotsu ramen at Sansotei Ramen on Bank Street.

Lighter but still very appealing was the shio ramen, flavoured simply but not overly with sea salt. I preferred it to shoyu (soy sauce-flavoured) ramen.

Shio ramen at Sansotei Ramen

Sansotei’s website, which offers more of a lesson in ramen than its menu, notes that some soups are more authentically served with thick or thin noodles, and servers will always ask your preference. Authenticity aside, I’d just as soon have thick noodles all the time.

For a change-up, I’d be fine with the spicy tan tan ramen, a medium-heat riff on Sichuan’s dan dan noodle, even if once I reached the ground-pork-laced dregs of the bowl, I wondered if I would have been happier with unadulterated dan dan noodles. 

Spicy tan tan noodles at Sansotei Ramen

I’m not likely to order again the tomato-based ramen, which was distinguished by a hefty single scallop, freshly shucked, untrimmed and tough. 

Tomato ramen at Sansotei Ramen

Of the limited number of smaller, snackier choices, I’d happily eat once more the pork gyozas, even if, after a server’s notice that they might take 15 to 25 minutes to make, they were to arrive after the ramen. Ditto the deep-fried chicken karaage. Slow-braised chicken wings have good five-space flavour and succulence, but will disappoint eaters who want their chicken skin crisp rather than flabby.

Made-to-order gyoza dumplings at Sansotei Ramen

Chicken karaage at Sansotei Ramen

Slow-braised chicken wings at Sansotei Ramen

For dessert, I’ve had the green tea cheese cake, which was pleasantly restrained in size and sweetness.

Green tea cheesecake at Sansotei Ramen

Sansotei’s liquor license has been filed, and if the Ottawa location follows the Toronto models, Sapporo beer will be served. Meanwhile, another distinctly Japanese and curious beverage can be had. You will probably have to ask a server or knowing neighbour how to open the soda that’s been stoppered with a marble. 

Sansotei’s instant success makes me hope that other ramen purveyors that have built up the ramen scenes in Toronto, Vancouver or even Manhattan, will scout out Ottawa and help to raise the soup standard here. All I can say regarding more Japanese broth and noodles is: bring them on.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Fairouz
343 Somerset St. W., 613-422-7700, fairouz.ca
Open: Tuesday to Thursday 5:30 to 10:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday 5:30 to 11 p.m., closed Sunday and Monday
Prices: small plates $6 to $17, larger plates $24 to $32 
Access: steps to front door, washrooms downstairs

My dining companion, someone well-versed in the ways of Michelin-starred restaurants and Middle Eastern cuisine alike, took a bite of his falafel at Fairouz.

A smile lit up his face and he launched into a small panegyric on the virtues of this four-month-old Centretown restaurant’s refined deep-fried chickpea fritters ($11 for four).

Falafel at Fairouz

“I love it because it tastes like falafel should taste,” he said, recalling innumerable just-fried falafels he had eaten from stands and street shops in Israel. He just can’t eat falafel anywhere else in Ottawa, he added, because they’re typically reheated, soggy, dense, greasy and sometimes gummy.

He also appreciated the chef’s personal twists — amping up the tahini on the plate and in the falafel with a bright hit of dill, as well as adding heat and beauty with slices of radish topped with potently spicy house-made harissa sauce.  

Based on this dish and many others, not to mention its decor and drinks, Fairouz is  unique in Ottawa.

Yes, it revives the name of a well-regarded restaurant that did business in the 1990s and early 2000s at the same address, and Dr. Hussain Rahal, one of the new Fairouz’s owners, is a member of the family that ran the first Fairouz and he worked there when he was going to school.

But Fairouz circa 2016 serves elevated Middle Eastern-inspired dishes in a city where, for decades, shawarma has set a lower, cheaper standard. Chef Walid El-Tawel, whose father is Palestinian, has crafted a novel and coherent menu that taps into that side of his ancestry. His kitchen, which values from-scratch prep and local producers, executes well, but that should not surprise given that El-Tawel, just 29, was not that long ago in charge of the kitchen at Restaurant E18hteen.

Chef Walid El-Tawel, left, is in charge of the kitchen at Fairouz

Nearly everything I’ve eaten during two dinners at Fairouz has been enjoyable, intriguing and flavour-forward. Dishes have also been sumptuously and colourfully plated — a must, I’d say, as they have to match the alluring look of Fairouz, which seats about 70 downstairs plus 45 in a private upstairs room.

Designer Kayla Pongrac (Ace Mercado, Tomo, The Waverley) has re-imagined the interior of this Centretown heritage mansion as a collection of eclectic and distinctive, sleek but comfortable dining spaces complemented by Moorish wrought-iron dividers, brick work, patterned wallpaper and Pongrac’s stairway mural.

Designer Kayla Pongrac created the interior of Fairouz

There are bar-side high tables, plush burgundy couches paired with black oval tables and turquoise (“Fairouz” is Arabic for turquoise) banquettes beside white tables just in front of the window onto the kitchen. Forced to pick a favourite spot to sit in such an interesting place, I like the latter. 

Service has been of a consistently high standard — polished, attentive, personable and eager to demystify El-Tawel’s dishes, which, by the way, are meant to be shared, although could still be considered roughly as appetizers and main courses.

Servers might suggest you ease into dinner with some dip ($6) and pita (house-made to order, as is everything at Fairouz) while you ponder what to eat after. Don’t pass on that prelude to the meal. I’m partial to the chunky muhammara made with red pepper, pomegranate and walnuts, or the slick, cool labneh (strained yogurt), only because the solidly made baba ghanoush is more familiar. All were excellent with warm, small, puffed up pita, although a top-up of bread ($2 per pita) was needed.

Muhumarra and labneh dips at Fairouz

Olives, baba ghanoush, pita and labneh at Fairouz

Apart from the falafel, I’ve enjoyed the fil fil kebab ($16), a spicy, better-dressed version of that meaty staple, and the sophisticated tuna maslouka ($17), which offset the impeccable, spiced and seared fish with blobs of not-too-sweet hibiscus gel, finely diced cucumbers and herbs grown in-house. 

Fil fil kebab at Fairouz

Tuna maslouka at Fairouz

The only appetizer that fell somewhat short was the lamb tartare ($18), and the fault lay not so much with the lean, pristine lamb, but with the bulgur crackers. While El-Tawel might have intended his dish to be a relative of kibbeh, its crackers were a jarring, too-crunchy distraction, and the lamb was better appreciated on its own.

Lamb tartare at Fairouz

Among El-Tawel’s mains, the dish built around slabs of lamb loin, strikingly seared but still perfectly pink inside and sweetened with pomegranate molasses, was a standout ($32). Every component on the dish, from tamed bitter greens to a “couscous” of cauliflower to streaks of smoky red chermoula (a North African sauce) was wonderful.

Pomegranate molasses lamb loin at Fairouz

Two poultry dishes were also hits. Chicken breast ($29) that was cooked sous-vide before leaning on sumac for its potent flavour was well-matched with a warm eggplant relish, charred onions and a sweet slick of date “leather.” Luscious slices of spiced duck breast ($30) kept luxurious company with a saffron béarnaise foam, grilled mushrooms and barberry jam. 

Sumac chicken at Fairouz

Duck breast with asparagus, saffron béarnaise foam at Fairouz

A less striking choice was white bass ($28), sitting on braised hearts of palm and made more exciting with a crust of dukkah (spices and nuts) and a green sauce based on zhoug, the Middle Eastern condiment of coriander, chiles and spices.

Dukkah-crusted white bass at Fairouz

Starch at Fairouz is essentially served on the side, in the form of bowls of festive rices ($12). Jawaher Rice, studded with pomegranate, pistachio, cardamom, candied orange and flowers, was the more extravagant of the two, although when I tried it the rice was overcooked and unfluffy. At my other visit, mujadarra rice, cooked in a cinnamon broth and served with caramelized onions and labneh, was spot-on.

Jawaher rice at Fairouz

Mujadarra rice

Desserts by pastry chef Marta Caferra, 30, also take the new Middle Eastern concept and run with it. We thought very highly of her lovely, delicate creation that mounted scoops of hibiscus-flavoured, thickened, semifreddo-like cream on crunchy vermicelli nests and nestled them in a tonka-bean cream, beside scatterings of pomegranate seeds.

Frozen hibiscus cream dessert at Fairouz restaurant

Playful and indulgent were some rich, posh ice cream bars ($6), in coconut or chocolate, made with Gatineau-made Olivia dark chocolate.

Ice cream bars at Fairouz

Notable among the drinks at Fairouz were cocktails tinged by Middle Eastern flavours, a smart and eclectic wine list that includes glasses and bottles of Lebanese wine, and several kinds of arak, the anise-based Middle Eastern spirit.

Only the music here has eschewed the Middle Eastern influence. Western, poppy sounds predominated. I’ve heard Lionel Richie and Stevie Wonder tunes, although late one night (dinners tend to go long) some Middle Eastern lute provided a change of pace. 

Of course, Ottawans who have eaten countless kebabs and falafel might flinch at the prices at Fairouz. But, and that’s in addition to the setting and service here, El-Tawel’s creative and technical successes make a persuasive case for Middle Eastern fine dining otherwise absent absent in Ottawa.

Cut back on the shawarma and consider a splurge at Fairouz. It could be revelatory.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Tamis Café
103 Fourth Ave., 613-567-7550, facebook.com/tamisottawa
Open: 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. daily
Prices: main courses $14 and under
Access: Steps to front door

Liza Sares is succinct when she conveys how hard 2015 was for her family. “We were devastated,” she says.

Her younger daughter, Jiselle, was battling stomach cancer, and the Sares had to pull together. Everyone stopped working or going to school. For her part, Liza left her tech-sector position and job as a private chef.

Fortunately, treatment for Jiselle, now 20, sent the cancer into remission. Now, she works at Tamis Café, the four-month-old eatery and bake shop that the Sares family opened in the Glebe, tucked away on Fourth Avenue east of Bank Street. 

In Manila, before the Sares came to Canada in 2001, Liza and her husband, Lito, ran a café named Jessica, after their older daughter. “Tamis” simply means “sweet” in Tagalog, and it was the two Sares daughters who came up with its concept.

The café is a spare, woody, brick-walled place that seats 16 inside and a few more outside. Liza rustles up French toast or omelettes in the morning, and a range of homey Filipino dishes through lunch and into the early evening. Jessica, who has nearly completed Algonquin College’s culinary program, stocks a showcase with mostly Filipino baked goods. 

Brazo de Mercedes ($3 each) placed its custardy filling inside a soft, sweet meringue wrapping, and there was a variation that substituted a purple yam-based filling. Chlorophyll-green, florally frosted, single-serving sponge cakes ($3.50 each) were flavoured with pandan extract, derived from a tropical plant.

Chocolate fans should succumb to the raw, gluten-free, vegan, brownie-like slabs of deliciousness ($4) that combine chocolate with a walnut and prune base. They will also likely want to take home a box of bite-size chocolate crinkle cookies (50 cents each) for later enjoyment.

The café is not licensed, but the wi-fi is free and the Sares are very hospitable.

“The most important thing is that the girls are happy,” says Liza. “They are doing what they love.”

With its tasty, wallet-friendly and unique savouries and sweets, Tamis Café should make its guests happy too.

Tamis Café
103 Fourth Ave., 613-567-7550, facebook.com/tamisottawa
Open: 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. daily
Prices: main courses $14 and under
Access: Steps to front door

Liza Sare is succinct when she conveys how hard 2015 was for her family. “We were devastated,” she says.

Her younger daughter, Jiselle, was battling stomach cancer, and the Sares had to pull together. Everyone stopped working or going to school. For her part, Liza left her tech-sector position and job as a private chef.

Fortunately, treatment for Jiselle, now 20, sent the cancer into remission. Now, she works at Tamis Café, the four-month-old eatery and bake shop that the Sare family opened in the Glebe, tucked away on Fourth Avenue east of Bank Street. 

In Manila, before the Sares came to Canada in 2001, Liza and her husband, Lito, ran a café named Jessica, after their older daughter. “Tamis” simply means “sweet” in Tagalog, and it was the two Sare daughters who came up with its concept.

The café is a spare, woody, brick-walled place that seats 16 inside and a few more outside. Liza rustles up French toast or omelettes in the morning, and a range of homey Filipino dishes through lunch and into the early evening. Jessica, who has nearly completed Algonquin College’s culinary program, stocks a showcase with mostly Filipino baked goods. 

Over several visits, Liza’s simple, home-style savoury dishes have been consistently well-made, tasty, generously portioned and bargain-priced.

 

Braised beef Mechado ($14) was fall-apart tender, bathed in a home-made tomato sauce perked with soy, served with rice, sweet carrots and buttered asparagus. Grilled slices of chicken breast, made lemony ($10 including salad) or marinated with house-made adobo seasonings ($13.50 including rice and veg), were admirably flavoured and toothsome.

Braised Beef Mechado from Tamis Café at 103 Fourth Ave., just east of Bank Street

 

Grilled lemon chicken at Tamis Café

A sizeable pork chop was nicely seasoned and sufficiently juicy. The plate’s mango salad, its garlic rice and its price ($14) made it a steal. 

Pork chop and mango salad at Tamis Café

Vegetarians should be pleased with lumpia ($7), a soft, freshly made crêpe encasing cooked sweet potato, carrots, onions and more, served with peanut sauce.

Vegetable crepe (Lumpia) with peanut sauce at Tamis Café

Pancit ($12.50) was a hearty plate of very thin noodles, flavoured predominantly with soy sauce and joined on the plate with vegetables, shrimp and slices of sweet Asian sausage.

Stir-fried noodles with shrimp and Asian sausage at Tamis Café

Lighter appetites should be content with one of the appetizing empanadas ($4.50 each) made with either beef, chicken or vegetarian fillings. Having just a stuffed pastry, especially at lunch, would leave more room for a potent, espresso-based coffee and a dessert from the showcase.

Brazo de Mercedes ($3 each) placed its custardy filling inside a soft, sweet meringue wrapping, and there was a variation that substituted a purple yam-based filling. Chlorophyll-green, florally frosted, single-serving sponge cakes ($3.50 each) were flavoured with pandan extract, derived from a tropical plant.

Purple Yam Brazo de Mercedes at Tamis Café

Pandan cake at Tamis Café

Chocolate fans should succumb to the raw, gluten-free, vegan, brownie-like slabs of deliciousness ($4) that combine chocolate with a walnut and prune base. They will also likely want to take home a box of bite-size chocolate crinkle cookies (50 cents each) for later enjoyment.

Vegan chocolate cake at Tamis Café

Halo-halo at Tamis Café

The café is not licensed, but the wi-fi is free and the Sares are very hospitable.

“The most important thing is that the girls are happy,” says Liza. “They are doing what they love.”

With its tasty, wallet-friendly and unique savouries and sweets, Tamis Café should make its guests happy too.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Prohibition Public House
337 Somerset St. W., 613-565-2704, prohibitionhouse.com
Open: Tuesday and Wednesday 5 p.m. to 1 a.m., Thursday to Saturday 4 p.m. to 2 a.m., Sunday 5 p.m. to midnight, closed Monday  
Prices: mains $18 to $29
Access: stairs to front door, washrooms upstairs

In Montreal, there’s been a restaurant called Prohibition for several years. In Toronto, an eatery of the same name has been in business for longer still. Why shouldn’t Ottawa have a Prohibition too?

To be clear: Surprisingly, given the prevalence of premium casual chains and franchises, the three identically named restaurants are unrelated business-wise. Still, there must be something about the name’s connotations. While I’ve not been to the Montreal or Toronto Prohibitions, they, and the Ottawa Prohibition, seem not that different, conceptually.

In Montreal, Prohibition is a casual bistro. In Toronto, it’s a gastropub. In Ottawa, Prohibition Public House, which opened in mid-June on Somerset Street West, east of Bank Street, is also a gastropub. It’s a large and attractive one, occupying the two-storey space where the restaurant Fare Blend was, in a heritage building that retains some of its old-time charm even though its been handsomely renovated.

Between them, the Ottawa Prohibition’s owners, Gregg McCabe, Steve Halucha, and Matt Loudon, have worked at or had a stake in some of Ottawa’s most popular pubs, including Grace O’Malley’s on Merivale Road, Crazy Horse in Kanata and Hooley’s Pub on Elgin Street. At Prohibition, their chef is Daniel Guerra, who previously cooked at Santé on Rideau Street.

His menu is a taut one-pager that appeals with about a half-dozen starters, that many mains, and three desserts. Locavores will approve of the menu citing Mariposa Farms, Juniper Farms and Trillium Farms as some of the restaurant’s producers. Indeed, vegetables were often scene-stealers on main-course plates.

I’ve eaten here twice, once on its porch and once in its private room, at a thick, wood-slab table with large, cushy chairs. In all, it’s struck me as a middle-of-the-pack place with prices that aren’t too alarming (most main courses are under $25). We had some respectable and good-looking dishes and some that needed some tweaking. In some cases, a little salt or assertive seasoning would have made a dish sparkle a bit more. At least one item was questionably sweet. 

For nibblers, there’s a charcuterie and cheese board that can be sized to taste and appetite, with up to seven cheeses from unspecified producers and seven meats, of which two — thin slices of pork belly and duck “bacon” — were made in the kitchen. Add-ons such as candied nuts and dabs of fruit gels bolstered the board, but the store-bought cured meat outshone the unremarkable house-made stuff. 

Charcuterie and cheese board at Prohibition Public House

Gazpacho, that perfect hot-weather starter of chilled tomato and vegetable soup, was somewhere in between rustically chunky and smoothly puréed. It could have popped with more flavour, but it was adequately refreshing.

Gazpacho at Prohibition Public House

Slabs of seared, sunflower seed-crusted tuna were lovely to look at, but could have used a finishing hit of salt. With its blobs of berry gel, this appetizer skewed to the sweet side. 

Sunflower seed-crusted tuna with berry gel at Prohibition Public House

The teens at our table saw poutine tacos on the menu and couldn’t resist. They liked the mashup of fries, curds, pulled chicken and gravy in soft tacos, and thought just as highly of beef sliders on egg bread.

Poutine tacos at Prohibition Public House

Beef sliders at Prohibition Public House

Among the main courses, a special of lamb chops, sufficiently juicy and bettered by its sauce, was much appreciated. Its risotto and assortment of veg satisfied, although the rice, while nicely textured, could have used more brothy depth of flavour in addition to its cheesiness.   

Lamb rack with risotto, fennel at Prohibition Public House

Striploin steak was a bit pricey at $29, but otherwise commendable. Meanwhile, the so-called “big meatball” had good flavour and a vegetable-loaded tomato sauce with some character, but it fell short because it was much too dry.

Striploin steak at Prohibition Public House

Duck confit by itself was sizeable and alright. It definitely pleased much more than the pink, too-sweet berry risotto. Rainbow trout was fine, but underseasoned, and the sweet-and-sour glaze mentioned on the menu was hard to discern. Chicken ballotine — here, chicken stuffed with ricotta — was overcooked and dry and lacked the peach component mentioned on the menu. With both of these dishes, some nicely cooked vegetables, and in the case of the chicken, a jus with some richness to it, were notably redeeming. 

Duck confit at Prohibition Public House

Chicken Ballotine at Prohibition Public House

Chocolate mousse, served in a jar and topped with coffee-infused cream and crumbled cookies, was very dense, but still a good pick for the chocolate fans. Less good was a lemon tart with honey custard that was much more sweet than bright and lemony. Above all, it was too cold, requiring efforts akin to chiselling to break.

Chocolate mousse dessert at Prohibition Public House

As for Prohibition’s drinks, about two dozen craft beers enjoy pride of place. Like the kitchen’s food, most of the beer choices are mainstream and easy-drinking, and a few are more interesting.

At this point, Prohibition isn’t bad, but neither is it as exciting food-wise as its neighbours Union 613 or Fairouz. Still, on this block, there could be room and demand too for a less adventurous, slightly more affordable eatery, especially if the kitchen here raises its game a bit more. 

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

SmoQue Shack
129 York St., 613-789-4245 smoqueshack.com
Open: Daily from 11:30 a.m. to 11 p.m.
Prices: Sandwiches, $9 to $20; meats, $6 to $17; platters $34 to $106
Access: Stairs to front door

Twice in recent weeks, I’ve found myself on the patio in front of SmoQue Shack on York Street, glad to be outside despite the swelter and happier still not to be heating up my kitchen.

Each time, I held out hopes for satisfying barbecue fare. After all, five years ago, weeks after SmoQue Shack opened, my predecessor praised the various meats served there as not just “very good,” but “forearm-licking, can’t-stop-gnawing, hose-me-down-later, very good.” A few years later, the restaurant was featured on the Food Network Canada TV show You Gotta Eat Here.

At the time, one of the eatery’s partners was Warren Sutherland, a chef who was born and raised in Kingston, Jamaica, but who has lived, cooked and run restaurants in Ottawa for the last dozen years. Sutherland is no longer involved with SmoQue Shack. Upcoming from him is a more upscale restaurant in New Edinburgh, to be named Sutherland, no less. But his legacy at SmoQue Shack remains in terms of its generously spiced, flavour-packed specialties.

As I found during my two visits to SmoQue Shack, if you like heat on your meat, or sauces that are bold and tasty enough to make you disregard the gooey mess they entail, then SmoQue Shack will fulfill those desires. There was one shortcoming with some of the meats here, especially for discriminating aficionados of high-end barbecue, but I’ll address that further down.

From the restaurant’s menu, we’ve skipped over the appetizers, salads and imposing burgers and sandwiches, even though the gargantuan, $20 “DBK Sandwich,” made with pulled pork, beef brisket, sausage, pickles and slaw, looked like the stuff of tall tales. We focused on the barbecued meats, available in combination platters or singly, plus some starchy sides to cushion our stomachs.

At both visits, orders took a little longer to hit our table than we expected, even if the slow-cooked brisket, chicken, ribs and pulled pork had been prepared in advance and needed just some reheating on the grill and supplementary saucing. Meanwhile, some of the craft beers on offer made the waiting more pleasant.

Perhaps real-time prep for the side dishes was to blame for the wait. Those sides were good enough to make us forget our impatience. Fries and sweet potato fries arrived hot, crisp and assertively seasoned. Cornbread was warm, and not overly sweet. Beans were soft and delicious. Mashed potatoes were smooth without being gluey. Just-cooked greens had their bitterness tempered by stock and bits of pork, and were a fine reset for our palates inundated with all the fat, sugar and spice of the meats.

Sweet potato fries at SmoQue Shack

Fries at Smoque Shack

 

Mashed potatoes at Smoque Shack

 

Corn bread and beans at Smoque Shack

Greens at Smoque Shack

Of course, the eatery is the SmoQue Shack, not the Sides Shack, so on to the meat of the matter.

I was most impressed by jerk chicken and cubes of jerk pork, which delivered waves of mouth-warming, tingle-inducing, smoky flavour that did the Caribbean proud. Neither meat would have won prizes for succulence, but then again, neither would the jerk pork or chicken that I’ve had in Jamaica.  

A slab of pork ribs, jerk chicken and cubes of jerk pork at SmoQue Shack

Ribs, whether baby back and porky or massive and beefy, were not as potently flavoured as the jerk items. Still, in terms of taste, were much better than run-of-the-mill ribs around town. Beef ribs, rubbed with spice and mustard and slathered with a punchy, coffee-bolstered sauce, had a good balanced kick and long-lasting flavour. The less-spicy baby back pork ribs were glazed with a honey-chipotle sauce that admirably balanced sweetness and heat.

Beef ribs at Smoque Shack

Mind you, the sauces, sometimes too heavily applied, could also overshadow the meaty flavours of the ribs themselves. And when the ribs were lacking in the tenderness, that was still clear, even if we were happily licking our fingers. In the end, I’d say that the ribs were sufficiently tender, but not as sublime texturally as ribs at their best can be.

But then, textural dissatisfactions — that is, ribs that are a little dry and tough or overcooked and mushy — are too easy to come by at any restaurant that must cope with how to reheat a quarter-, half- or full rack before serving it.

Beef brisket came in as a big chunk and was soft and yielding, almost as if it had been braised, whereas more often barbecue joints serve brisket slices and, if you’re lucky, chunks of charred “burnt ends” from the fattier parts of the brisket. I’m not saying that the brisket wasn’t tasty. It just wasn’t the brisket that would be de rigeur in Texas, the home of great brisket, even if SmoQue Shack’s menu calls it “Texas style.”

Beef ribs, brisket and barbecue chicken at Smoque Shack

Pulled pork was moist, nicely flavoured and well-sauced. A bit of the super-seasoned exterior “bark” from the pork shoulder would have kicked the sample up another notch and bestowed some barbecue cred.

Pulled pork at Smoque Shack

Of several desserts, I’ve tried only SmoQue Shack’s hot chocolate cake topped by vanilla ice cream, served in a Mason jar. This kind of indulgent dessert is pretty ubiquitous, and the SmoQue Shack’s well-made rendition shows why. It was a fine meal-ender that squelched the residual heat in our mouths.

SmoQue Shack’s hot chocolate cake topped by vanilla ice cream, served in a Mason jar

In the end, we had two zingy, summery, casual dinners at SmoQue Shack, al fresco rather than inside, surrounded by brick, wood and TV screens. As long as we weren’t expecting the ultimate in barbecue, we ate just fine. 

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum 
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Rustiek
51 Rue St-Jacques, Gatineau (Hull sector), 819-525-3343, rustiek.ca
Open: Tuesday and Wednesday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 4 to 10 p.m.; Thursday and Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 4 to 11 p.m.; Saturday 5 to 11 p.m.
Prices: Mains under $30
Access: Steps to dining room, washrooms downstairs

These days, only a contrarian chef puts such vintage dishes as vichyssoise and apple pie on his menu.

But that’s how Christopher Mulder, in charge of the kitchen at Rustiek, rolls. And thankfully so.

At his two-and-a-half-month-old restaurant in Gatineau’s Hull sector, Mulder’s classic cold soup of potato and leek, perked by Dutch mustard, a scattering of crisp shallots and a dollop of quark, was an outstanding meal-starter. Just as great was a thick slice of warm, perfectly crusted apple pie that sat on a puddle of salted caramel and was adorned with blueberries. And between soup and pie, there were more delights.

Dutch Mustard Vichyssoise, with fried shallots, chives and quark cheese at Rustiek

Dutch apple pie, w/ salted caramel and blueberry cloud ice cream. Wayne Cuddington/ Postmedia

Mind you, if you’ve followed the comings and goings of chefs in the Outaouais, you have have high expectations of Mulder, Rustiek’s 34-year-old chef and co-owner. The Gatineau native was the executive chef at Le Tartuffe and Bistro St-Jacques, two well-regarded French restaurants. Until the latter closed in 2013, it was at the same address where Rustiek now stands, and where the restaurant Gy was before it closed in early 2016. About a decade ago, Mulder was in the kitchen of Café Henry Burger, where he rose to become its sous-chef.

Rustiek pitches itself a little differently than do those other, late and lamented restaurants on Mulder’s résumé. A self-described “gastro-tavern,” Rustiek serves items that are a little more amply portioned and comforting, although their plating and complexities still reflect Mulder’s experience and proficiencies. With its name and some of its dishes, Rustiek nods to Mulder’s Dutch and German roots — hence the presence of marinated fish as a bar snack and schnitzel as a main course.

Tavern-wise, Rustiek offers a diverse and impressive list of draft and bottled craft beers, for the most part brewed in Quebec. The restaurant is similarly local in its choice of produce, drawing on meats from West Quebec and Eastern Ontario farms.

Over my two recent visits, each of five starters was between quite good and stunning. As we were with the vichyssoise, we were wowed by two of Mulder’s charcuterie creations that got the savoury-sweet balance just right — a glass jar filled with silky chicken liver mousse, duck rillette and Armagnac-spiked stewed prunes, plus a thick slice of pastry-wrapped game pâté with foie gras at its core, offset by a rhubarb marmalade.

Verrine of chicken liver mousse and duck rillette at Rustiek

Game pâté in pastry at Rustiek

Another appetizer devoured to the last speck was a serving of risotto studded with borlotti beans and asparagus and made with a quality broth. A pairing of succulent but meaty pork belly and blood sausage was predominantly sweet and earthy.

Borlotti bean risotto at Rustiek

pork belly and boudin noir with salad and maple syrup at Rustiek

Among the mains, poultry picks shone. A chicken breast from Gatineau’s Ferme Aux Saveurs des Monts, paired with roasted fennel and marinated eggplant, satisfied deeply with crisp, spice-crusted skin and moist flavourful meat. Lightly smoked Mariposa Farms duck breast impressed too, and the plate benefitted from a thoughtful combination of sweet, bitter and crunchy sides — turnip purée, Swiss chard, carrots, pecans and cherry chutney.

Chicken breast main course at Rustiek 

Smoked duck breast main course at Rustiek

Wiener schnitzel was nicely crisped but just a little bland on its own. Fortunately, its many sides, including  a half-sausage made with sweetbreads, a relish made with apples and jalapeños, and a sweet potato purée — were zippy and elevated enough to amply compensate.

Weiner schnitzel at Rustiek

The bowl of fresh pappardelle was another wining composition, generously combining clams in the shell, heritage cherry tomatoes, lardons, oyster mushrooms and grated cured egg yolk.

Clam pasta with, lardons, cherry tomatoes, grated cured egg yolk at Rustiek

A fillet of rainbow trout from Cedar Creek Trout Farm in Shawville was tasty and crisp-skinned. Meanwhile, the flavours beyond the fish on the plate were abundant, thanks to a smear of hops-infused mayo lentils, caraway-flecked lentils, and a topping of shaved asparagus and radish.

Trout with lentils at Rustiek

Only two plates were slight letdowns. A Ferme Takwânaw bison sirloin steak — at $29, the most expensive main — was under-seasoned and less special. A special that paired a pork chop with plump, skewered shrimps had everything going for it except for a too dry chop.

Bison sirloin at Rustiek

Pork chop and shrimp special at Rustiek 

Delicious desserts banished our gripes. Chief among them was that apple pie, but slabs of cappuccino brownie and maple pecan pie were close seconds.

Cappuccino brownie at Rustiek

Maple pecan tart at Rustiek

When I visited Rustiek this summer, I rushed through its dining room, which had been freshened up slightly from its Gy days, to eat on its pleasant backyard terrace. Indeed, indoors, Rustiek was deserted. But given Mulder’s appealing dishes, his dining room deserves to be nicely filled once fall arrives.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Rustiek
51 Rue St-Jacques, Gatineau (Hull sector), 819-525-3343, rustiek.ca
Open: Tuesday and Wednesday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 4 to 10 p.m.; Thursday and Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 4 to 11 p.m.; Saturday 5 to 11 p.m.
Prices: Mains under $30
Access: Steps to dining room, washrooms downstairs

These days, only a contrarian chef puts such vintage dishes as vichyssoise and apple pie on his menu.

But that’s how Christopher Mulder, in charge of the kitchen at Rustiek, rolls. And thankfully so.

At his two-and-a-half-month-old restaurant in Gatineau’s Hull sector, Mulder’s classic cold soup of potato and leek, perked by Dutch mustard, a scattering of crisp shallots and a dollop of quark, was an outstanding meal-starter. Just as great was a thick slice of warm, perfectly crusted apple pie that sat on a puddle of salted caramel and was adorned with blueberries. And between soup and pie, there were more delights.

Mind you, if you’ve followed the comings and goings of chefs in the Outaouais, you have have high expectations of Mulder, Rustiek’s 34-year-old chef and co-owner. The Gatineau native was the executive chef at Le Tartuffe and Bistro St-Jacques, two well-regarded French restaurants. Until the latter closed in 2013, it was at the same address where Rustiek now stands, and where the restaurant Gy was before it closed in early 2016. About a decade ago, Mulder was in the kitchen of Café Henry Burger, where he rose to become its sous-chef.

Rustiek pitches itself a little differently than do those other, late and lamented restaurants on Mulder’s résumé. A self-described “gastro-tavern,” Rustiek serves items that are a little more amply portioned and comforting, although their plating and complexities still reflect Mulder’s experience and proficiencies. With its name and some of its dishes, Rustiek nods to Mulder’s Dutch and German roots — hence the presence of marinated fish as a bar snack and schnitzel as a main course.

Tavern-wise, Rustiek offers a diverse and impressive list of draft and bottled craft beers, for the most part brewed in Quebec. The restaurant is similarly local in its choice of produce, drawing on meats from West Quebec and Eastern Ontario farms.

Over my two recent visits, each of five starters was between quite good and stunning. As we were with the vichyssoise, we were wowed by two of Mulder’s charcuterie creations that got the savoury-sweet balance just right — a glass jar filled with silky chicken liver mousse, duck rillette and Armagnac-spiked stewed prunes, plus a thick slice of pastry-wrapped game pâté with foie gras at its core, offset by a rhubarb marmalade.

Another appetizer devoured to the last speck was a serving of risotto studded with borlotti beans and asparagus and made with a quality broth. A pairing of succulent but meaty pork belly and blood sausage was predominantly sweet and earthy.

Among the mains, poultry picks shone. A chicken breast from Gatineau’s Ferme Aux Saveurs des Monts, paired with roasted fennel and marinated eggplant, satisfied deeply with crisp, spice-crusted skin and moist flavourful meat. Lightly smoked Mariposa Farms duck breast impressed too, and the plate benefitted from a thoughtful combination of sweet, bitter and crunchy sides — turnip purée, Swiss chard, carrots, pecans and cherry chutney.

Wiener schnitzel was nicely crisped but just a little bland on its own. Fortunately, its many sides, including  a half-sausage made with sweetbreads, a relish made with apples and jalapeños, and a sweet potato purée — were zippy and elevated enough to amply compensate.

The bowl of fresh pappardelle was another wining composition, generously combining clams in the shell, heritage cherry tomatoes, lardons, oyster mushrooms and grated cured egg yolk.

A fillet of rainbow trout from Cedar Creek Trout Farm in Shawville was tasty and crisp-skinned. Meanwhile, the flavours beyond the fish on the plate were abundant, thanks to a smear of hops-infused mayo lentils, caraway-flecked lentils, and a topping of shaved asparagus and radish.

Only two plates were slight letdowns. A Ferme Takwânaw bison sirloin steak — at $29, the most expensive main — was under-seasoned and less special. A special that paired a pork chop with plump, skewered shrimps had everything going for it except for a too dry chop.

Delicious desserts banished our gripes. Chief among them was that apple pie, but slabs of cappuccino brownie and maple pecan pie were close seconds.

When I visited Rustiek this summer, I rushed through its dining room, which had been freshened up slightly from its Gy days, to eat on its pleasant backyard terrace. Indeed, indoors, Rustiek was deserted. But given Mulder’s appealing dishes, his dining room deserves to be nicely filled once fall arrives.

Le Shack 131
131 Prom. du Portage, 819-503-1310, leshack131.com
Open: daily from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.
Prices: mains from $15 to $40
Fully accessible

Has any other address in the National Capital Region experienced as much restaurant churn as 131 Prom. du Portage, on the main drag of Gatineau’s Hull sector?

In the last decade, the premises has been Euro Bistro, Molto Bistro Café, Brut Cantina Sociale, Échec et Malt and, since early May, Le Shack 131. From my own experiences and what I dug up in the Citizen’s archives, there wasn’t that much seriously wrong with the previous tenants. But here we are, with the latest go-around.  

Le Shack 131 is not quite as bare-bones as its name might suggest. Its interior is largely brick walls, now-standard Edison lights in large fixtures, cushy seats and — here are the most rustic parts — chunky wood tables to eat at and planks overhead. Service has been casual and genial, but at times lagging, and the music has been clubbish and groovy.

While its Facebook page’s reference to “haute gastronomie” exaggerates, Le Shack is a mix of a gastropub and a bistro, serving game-meat tartares, salads, flatbread-style pizzas, steaks and more, usually on slate plates. The chef is Andrew Valliere, who previously cooked at Sterling, the upscale Gatineau steakhouse, co-owner Claude Chapdelaine told me this week . 

We’ve been twice for dinner this summer on the large, roadside patio, and thought well enough of the food. At lunch, the compact menu and food was more about getting burgers or pizza into public servants on their break. But the starters and mains at dinner were reasonably well made, signalling more care and pride in the kitchen than in some comparable places I’d recently tried. We did think the prices were on the steep side at our first visit, but when were returned, the priciest mains were more affordable. 

Among the meatier starters, a block of yolk-topped wild boar tartare was enjoyable, coarsely chopped and not overly manipulated, with a smear of good, spicy mayo that added a sharp, slick accent. Bison carpaccio was simply but well seasoned and accessorized, but the slices tasted just a little watery. An early summer arugula salad with cheddar cheese, berries and apples seemed quite basic on paper but was fresh, balanced and perkily dressed.

Wild boar tartare at Le Shack 131

Bison carpaccio at Le Shack 131

Arugula salad at Le Shack 131

The best main was a rugged, hefty take on that bistro favourite, steak frites. The dish featuring a chunky bavette cut, taken from a cow’s flank, looked a bit thrown-together. But the seasoning, pronounced sear and texture of the meat were spot-on, and the overall plate was generous, with respectable fries that were better still moistened with meat drippings, plus a better-than-usual range of daily veg, including flavourful grilled romaine.

Bavette and fries at Le Shack 131

A more expensive striploin steak was good too, but its $40 price seemed steep, even if it was matched with an interesting corn-and-ham risotto that was crowd-pleasingly creamy.

New York striploin steak at Le Shack 131

By the way, the latter steaks and other meats were asterisked on the menu. What did the wee star designate? It meant that the proteins had been plastic-wrapped and slow-cooked using sous-vide gear (basically a precisely heated bath) so as to achieve perfect, pink, internal tenderness. So, when our server asked us what doneness we preferred for the steaks, we were a little confused, as asking for a well-done steak — the horror! — would be counter to the point of sous-viding. 

A piece of rainbow trout had nice crisp skin and moist flesh going for it, but was under-seasoned. Indeed, many other items on the plate upstaged the fish, including more of that romaine, a lightly lemony gel, some butternut squash purée, morsels of lightly “cooked” scallop ceviche, and best of all, risotto that had eggplant “caviar” mixed in and therefore tasted rich and even decadent.

Trout with scallop ceviche, romaine and risotto at Le Shack 131

An oblong pizza made with chorizo and a mound of arugula was crisp-crusted and satisfying.

Chorizo pizza at Le Shack 131

Le Shack’s wine list is nicely curated and very informative, but it is a little limited with respect to wines by glass. At the bar, 10 beers are on tap. Chapdelaine told me that his goal is to feature made-in-Quebec craft beers this fall.

At both of our visits, we were told that the restaurant’s down-the-middle desserts — cheesecakes, crème brûlée among them — were not made in-house (although their accompanying coulis was). Chapdelaine said that a special in-house dessert is in the works.

Common Eatery
380 Elgin St., second floor, 613-695-2110, commoncs.com/common-eatery/
Open: Daily, from 5 p.m. to “late”
Prices: small plates from $5 to $14, larger plates $20 to $29  
Access: flight of stairs to restaurant

A few days ago, we had one of those meals that made me especially glad to do what I do. Bright-flavoured, nicely crafted appetizers elicited smiles. Then came a salmon fillet that was among the best pieces of fish I’ve eaten this year, surrounded by battered wedge fries that made us think other places were simply cooking potatoes wrong.

A few days before that fine feast, we had a dinner that left us dissatisfied and grumbling. A few small plates hit the mark. More were “meh.” Very disappointing were punishingly dry pork ribs. Seriously undercooked lamb chops were the absolute worst, and they arrived 40 minutes after the other plates.

Those night-and-day dinners were at the same restaurant — Common Eatery on Elgin Street. The evenings-only, small-plates-focused restaurant shares its space with the morning-and-afternoon business Morning Owl Coffeehouse. It shares its name, and hipness, with the neighbouring, affiliated, Common Concept Shop, a high-end street wear store. A colleague said the two youthful Common businesses feel, in a word, “Toronto.”

I’d call the ambience at the eatery, which opened in early summer, an exercise in industrial, minimalist chic. The room is roughly a big hexagon holding 60 or so people, seated either on high bar stools or Scandinavian chairs beside metal-topped tables. The colours are a little severe. There’s a white wall that sports a funky mural, a black wall beside the open kitchen, and a mirrored wall behind the bar. Overhead are grey ductwork, globe lighting fixtures and wagon wheel chandeliers. The floors are polished concrete. 

Young, tattooed, attentive servers wear eatery-branded T-shirts and, if they’re men, ripped jeans. The sound system pumps out Drake and music that sounds like Drake. 

At my first visit, we tried more than half of the offerings on the one-page menu, which struck us as enticing, well-written and reasonably wallet-friendly. There were vegetarian and vegan versions of pork wontons, crab cakes, bison sliders and jerk chicken wings too, which were good to see.

We went early on the Sunday of the Labour Day weekend and the place was quiet, although my colleague who lives nearby says Common Eatery can be jammed with a young, cocktail-drinking, snacking crowd much later in the evening.

Almost all of our dishes hit the table fairly quickly and at once. So, marks awarded for speed, but perhaps docked for making us fret about the best order to eat dishes and whether food might get cold too quickly. At my subsequent, mid-week visit, the dishes were staggered, and our experience was better.

Back to that first visit. Its best dishes included the Southeast-Asia-inspired toke salad of julienned jicama, mango, carrots and cabbage, dressed with a gingery vinaigrette and bettered with a squeeze of lime. Deep-fried fingerling potatoes, with not just bacon salt but a cup of flavoured mayo, were addictive and self-indulgently good.

Toke salad at Common Eatery

Fingerlings with bacon salt at Common Eatery

Then there were dishes that impressed less, or were less well-made. The charred romaine heart, with a creamy dressing, lardons and shards of pecorino cheese, wasn’t an improvement on a standard Caesar salad. A Scotch egg — deep-fried and wrapped in breaded sausage meat — was not greasy, but not a “wow,” either. A “shoulder tenderloin” steak, cooked beyond the requested medium-rare, was too tough. Linguine was cooked past al dente, and its creamy, garlicky, squid ink sauce overwhelmed the topping of mild, seemingly squandered, lobster meat.

Charred romaine at Common Eatery

Scotch egg at Common Eatery

Steak special at Common Eatery

Lobster linguine with squid ink sauce at Common Eatery

Six pork ribs were dry nearly to the point of dessication, an insult to what ribs can be. 

Pork ribs at Common Eatery

Two orders of lambsicles were late to the table because our server explained the kitchen was trying to cook a partial rack rather than individual chops, and had screwed up the first time. But the second attempt, while appealingly seasoned with a warm, aromatic, Middle Eastern-influenced spice blend, was still a flop, yielding a few chops that were seriously undercooked and inedible.

One order of lambsicles at Common Eatery

We brought one such chop to our server’s attention. At least dessert, a modest rectangle of puff pastry topped with sweetened, diced peaches and candied nuts, came free as a result. Still, our overall impression of the place was not the greatest.

Peaches on puff pastry at Common Eatery

Happily, the restaurant redeemed itself, and strikingly so, a few nights later.

The toke salad was even better than previously. We were a little cynical at first about the mashed avocado appetizer and its wafery, insta-shatter crackers, but the chilled, spiced green stuff, studded with pomegranate seeds and perked with lemon, made us believers. 

Avocado appetizer at Common Eatery

After those flavour and texture triumphs came jerk chicken wings that were easy to eat, if a little mild, on some intriguingly porridge-y and more significantly spiced rice and beans. Crisp wontons encased a smooth pork filling sufficiently seasoned so that the two on-the-side sauces weren’t a must.

Jerk chicken wings at Common Eatery

Pork wontons at Common Eatery

That salmon fillet, cooked in bacon fat so that its skin was crisp and its flesh was rich and succulent, and served with delicious tempura-battered potatoes and a dill-flecked aioli, was rave-worthy — the fish dish of our dreams.

Salmon and potatoes at Common Eatery

We had enough faith then in the kitchen to order the dreaded lambsicles. When they landed, each of the three of us chose a chop — the analogy that came to our minds was Russian roulette. We bit in, and were relieved. More than edible, they were pretty tasty. 

Lambsicles (again) at Common Eatery

In the end, I’d like to give Common Eatery the benefit of the doubt. I can’t forget the first dinner there, but — and this is just a guess — perhaps the chef and his best lieutenants had Labour Day Sunday off, and that visit was the anomaly, not its follow-up. I wish the place many fewer off-nights like our first visit, and many more like our substantially better second.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Ching’s Kitchen
641 Somerset St. W., 613-233-6888 or search for Ching’s Kitchen on facebook.com
Hours:  Tuesday to Thursday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Sunday noon to 9 p.m., closed Monday
Prices: snacks under $10, Japanese plates up to $17, Taiwanese dishes up to $13, Korean dishes up to $14
Access: steps to entrance

Usually by my final visit to a restaurant, I’m beyond the need to scope out the dishes sent to neighbouring customers, while wondering whether they’ve ordered the really good and interesting stuff.

But there we were at Ching’s Kitchen on Somerset Street West last week, craning our necks to identify items at other tables.

Two young Asian women were sharing warm bubble tea and something warmer still, bubbling away in a hot pot. Next to them, two more young Asian women were eating, as a server informed us, oden hot pot, a Japanese dish that floats fish cakes in broth. 

I’d plumbed Ching’s menu over three previous visits since August, but never ordered the oden hot pot or the warm bubble tea. Probably 20 dishes in — good thing that Ching’s dishes are so affordable — I’m still pondering what the eatery does best. 

Opened in June, Ching’s replaces Ju Xiang Yuan, which specialized in Northern Chinese food. The food at Ching’s is equally intriguing, with pages of its menu dedicated to Japanese, Taiwanese and Korean dishes.

The chef, I was told, is in fact Taiwanese. Indeed, the menu’s first two pages list “snacks” beside a photo that shows Taipei’s Shilin Market building, a mammoth attraction for night-market street-food eaters.

What I’ve had from those and other pages has tended to be simple, direct and hearty, with little of the Asian-fusion accommodations that make similar dishes more appealing to raised-in-North-America palates. There are also a few Japanese items that have become trendy (pork-broth ramen), others that might (kushiyaki, meaning grilled meats and seafoods on skewers), and basic, filling fare, such as deep-fried pork cutlets on rice. 

In short, this was the stuff of Asian night markets and short-order cooking, not more crafted and nuanced dining. There were dishes that we would order again and others that impressed less, sometimes because of a shortcut in the kitchen.

On my final visit, we began with new additions to the picture-rich menu, diving right into some deep-fried fare. Taiwanese deep-fried chicken was piping hot, thickly battered and heavy, but the dark meat was moist, tasty, and made more punchy with slivers of potent chilies. Deep-fried squid, drizzled with mayo and a dark, savoury sauce, was nicely flavoured but also less than hot, un-crisp outside and overly chewy inside. 

Taiwanese fried chicken at Ching’s Kitchen 

Taiwanese fried squid at Ching’s Kitchen

On other visits, other deep-fried starters were better, including: a big, dark, well-sauced disc of okonomiyaki, the savoury Japanese pancake, flecked with cabbage and squid; agedashi tofu (cubes of deep-fried tofu); some reasonably good, albeit unseared, gyoza; and Taiwanese popcorn chicken, which were more crispy, nugget-sized and boneless. 

Okinomiyaki at Ching’s Kitchen

Agedashi dofu at Ching’s Kitchen

Gyoza at Ching’s Kitchen 

Popcorn chicken at Ching’s Kitchen

The deep-fryer did the trick too with a pork katsu don cutlet, served on rice. Another Japanese “on-rice” dish, curry gyu don, was less pleasing because its shaved beef was, beneath its mild curry, dry and flavourless. Taiwanese braised pork on rice featured morsels of fatty pork belly, plus funky preserved vegetables.

Pork katsu don at Ching’s Kitchen

Gyu don beef curry at Ching’s Kitchen

Braised pork with rice at Ching’s Kitchen

I had high, but misplaced, hopes for slices of pork cheeks in a sweet-hot sauce. Elsewhere, I’ve had, and loved, pork cheeks, cooked to sumptuous tenderness. But the pork cheeks at Ching’s were more in line with statements that I’ve read affirming that the Taiwanese palate prizes chewiness. 

Pork cheeks at Ching’s Kitchen

Kushiyaki appealed in principle but didn’t knock us out. We hoped, perhaps naively, for something more refined but received something rugged. Various items — octopus, chicken wings, okra, beef, tofu and shishamo, a saltwater smelt — were uniformly slathered with miso and not especially tasty. 

Assorted kushiyaki (Octopus, chicken, okra, tofu, beef, shishamo) at Ching’s Kitchen

Pork tonkotsu ramen here was just OK, lacking the finesse of the soups served at a ramen specialty shop. Dan dan noodle ramen, uncomplicated but satisfying, split its components into separate bowls — so-so noodles, long-cooked pork broth and ground pork in a thick salty gravy topped with chili oil. 

Tonkotsu ramen at Ching’s Kitchen 

Dan dan noodles/ramen at Ching’s Kitchen

Taiwanese beef noodle soup was a robust bowl of humble, long-simmered, vaguely sweet, beef shank in a full-flavoured but simple broth, with noodles and bok choy. The beef sukiyaki at Ching’s seemed almost like a Japanese analogue to that soup, but with more of that unappealing shaved beef, tofu and a soft-boiled egg. 

Beef noodle soup at Ching’s Kitchen

Sukiyaki at Ching’s Kitchen

The shaved beef appeared again in Taiwanese beef with satay sauce and noodles, which, while marked spicy on the menu, tasted mostly just of curry powder. Chicken teriyaki with udon noodles had scant teriyaki flavour, but the chicken was toothsome. The rustic Taiwanese dish of chicken chunks cooked with ginger and onion had good flavour, but entailed a lot of grappling with bones. 

Beef fried noodles with satay sauce at Ching’s Kitchen

Chicken teriyaki with udon noodles at Ching’s Kitchen

Taiwanese style chicken with ginger and onions at Ching’s Kitchen

We tried just one of Ching’s half-dozen Korean dishes — japchae, the stir-fried noodle dish, which struck us as coarsely prepared. 

Japchae at Ching’s Kitchen

Desserts, including various vanilla- and green-tea flavoured ice creams and the like, are not made in-house, we were told. We tried a slice of tea tofu cheesecake, and it wasn’t sufficiently thawed. A “cheesecake-sickle,” my friend cracked.

Tofu cheese cake at Ching’s Kitchen

The restaurant, nicely and woodily renovated, is licensed, and offers just a few imported and domestic beers, several sakes and house red and white wines. Service has been attentive, but it would be great if servers could be a bit more proactive in explaining dishes to Taiwanese-food newbies. 

So, it turns out there’s much to discover at Ching’s, from hits to unexciting dishes to flubs. Culinary explorers wanting unpretentious Asian fare might enjoy a visit.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
previous Peter Hum restaurant reviews

Ching’s Kitchen
641 Somerset St. W., 613-233-6888 or search for Ching’s Kitchen on facebook.com
Hours:  Tuesday to Thursday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Sunday noon to 9 p.m., closed Monday
Prices: snacks under $10, Japanese plates up to $17, Taiwanese dishes up to $13, Korean dishes up to $14
Access: steps to entrance

Usually by my final visit to a restaurant, I’m beyond the need to scope out the dishes sent to neighbouring customers, while wondering whether they’ve ordered the really good and interesting stuff.

But there we were at Ching’s Kitchen on Somerset Street West last week, craning our necks to identify items at other tables.

Two young Asian women were sharing warm bubble tea and something warmer still, bubbling away in a hot pot. Next to them, two more young Asian women were eating, as a server informed us, oden hot pot, a Japanese dish that floats fish cakes in broth. 

I’d plumbed Ching’s menu over three previous visits since August, but never ordered the oden hot pot or the warm bubble tea. Probably 20 dishes in — good thing that Ching’s dishes are so affordable — I’m still pondering what the eatery does best. 

Opened in June, Ching’s replaces Ju Xiang Yuan, which specialized in Northern Chinese food. The food at Ching’s is equally intriguing, with pages of its menu dedicated to Japanese, Taiwanese and Korean dishes.

The chef, I was told, is in fact Taiwanese. Indeed, the menu’s first two pages list “snacks” beside a photo that shows Taipei’s Shilin Market building, a mammoth attraction for night-market street-food eaters.

What I’ve had from those and other pages has tended to be simple, direct and hearty, with little of the Asian-fusion accommodations that make similar dishes more appealing to raised-in-North-America palates. There are also a few Japanese items that have become trendy (pork-broth ramen), others that might (kushiyaki, meaning grilled meats and seafoods on skewers), and basic, filling fare, such as deep-fried pork cutlets on rice. 

In short, this was the stuff of Asian night markets and short-order cooking, not more crafted and nuanced dining. There were dishes that we would order again and others that impressed less, sometimes because of a shortcut in the kitchen.

On my final visit, we began with new additions to the picture-rich menu, diving right into some deep-fried fare. Taiwanese deep-fried chicken was piping hot, thickly battered and heavy, but the dark meat was moist, tasty, and made more punchy with slivers of potent chilies. Deep-fried squid, drizzled with mayo and a dark, savoury sauce, was nicely flavoured but also less than hot, un-crisp outside and overly chewy inside. 

On other visits, other deep-fried starters were better, including: a big, dark, well-sauced disc of okonomiyaki, the savoury Japanese pancake, flecked with cabbage and squid; agedashi tofu (cubes of deep-fried tofu); some reasonably good, albeit unseared, gyoza; and Taiwanese popcorn chicken, which were more crispy, nugget-sized and boneless. 

The deep-fryer did the trick too with a pork katsu don cutlet, served on rice. Another Japanese “on-rice” dish, curry gyu don, was less pleasing because its shaved beef was, beneath its mild curry, dry and flavourless. Taiwanese braised pork on rice featured morsels of fatty pork belly, plus funky preserved vegetables.

I had high, but misplaced, hopes for slices of pork cheeks in a sweet-hot sauce. Elsewhere, I’ve had, and loved, pork cheeks, cooked to sumptuous tenderness. But the pork cheeks at Ching’s were more in line with statements that I’ve read affirming that the Taiwanese palate prizes chewiness. 

Kushiyaki appealed in principle but didn’t knock us out. We hoped, perhaps naively, for something more refined but received something rugged. Various items — octopus, chicken wings, okra, beef, tofu and shishamo, a saltwater smelt — were uniformly slathered with miso and not especially tasty. 

Pork tonkotsu ramen here was just OK, lacking the finesse of the soups served at a ramen specialty shop. Dan dan noodle ramen, uncomplicated but satisfying, split its components into separate bowls — so-so noodles, long-cooked pork broth and ground pork in a thick salty gravy topped with chili oil. 

Taiwanese beef noodle soup was a robust bowl of humble, long-simmered, vaguely sweet, beef shank in a full-flavoured but simple broth, with noodles and bok choy. The beef sukiyaki at Ching’s seemed almost like a Japanese analogue to that soup, but with more of that unappealing shaved beef, tofu and a soft-boiled egg. 

The shaved beef appeared again in Taiwanese beef with satay sauce and noodles, which, while marked spicy on the menu, tasted mostly just of curry powder. Chicken teriyaki with udon noodles had scant teriyaki flavour, but the chicken was toothsome. The rustic Taiwanese dish of chicken chunks cooked with ginger and onion had good flavour, but entailed a lot of grappling with bones. 

We tried just one of Ching’s half-dozen Korean dishes — japchae, the stir-fried noodle dish, which struck us as coarsely prepared. 

Desserts, including various vanilla- and green-tea flavoured ice creams and the like, are not made in-house, we were told. We tried a slice of tea tofu cheesecake, and it wasn’t sufficiently thawed. A “cheesecake-sickle,” my friend cracked.

The restaurant, nicely and woodily renovated, is licensed, and offers just a few imported and domestic beers, several sakes and house red and white wines. Service has been attentive, but it would be great if servers could be a bit more proactive in explaining dishes to Taiwanese-food newbies. 

So, it turns out there’s much to discover at Ching’s, from hits to unexciting dishes to flubs. Culinary explorers wanting unpretentious Asian fare might enjoy a visit.

Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen and Fresh Pasta

471 Hazeldean Rd., 613-836-5432, facebook page
Open: Monday 10:30 a.m. to 4 p.m.; Tuesday to Friday 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., closed Sunday
Prices: Porchetta sandwiches $6.95 to $10.50, depending on size and whether it’s hot or cold

Pietro’s Corner

300 Richmond Rd., 613-695-7600, pietroscorner.ca 
Open: Monday 7:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., Tuesday to Saturday 7:30 a.m. to 8 p.m., Sunday 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.
Prices: Pastas and sauces sold by weight, $2.59 per 100 grams on site

The focus today is on two casual Italian food purveyors that, even if they aren’t exactly restaurants in a more formal sense, serve fresh, well-made, reasonably priced items that I’d gladly pop by for or take home.

Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen in Kanata and Pietro’s Corner in Westboro are both blended businesses with notable pedigrees and laudable standards. At Pesto’s the main attraction is sandwiches. At Pietro’s, fresh, home-made pastas and sauces reign.

Pesto’s has been open in a Hazeldean Road strip mall since 1994, launched by Robert and David Nicastro, two sons of one of the founders of Nicastro’s Specialty Foods on Merivale Road, who later opened the Il Negozio Nicastro stores on Bank Street and Wellington Street West. Now, Pesto’s is owned and operated by another second-generation son, Michael Nicastro, who was the chef at the now closed Caffe Ventuno inside the Wellington West Nicastro for several years.

Like other Nicastro family businesses, Pesto’s is a grocery store as well as eatery, with olive oils, dried pastas and other imported Italian foodstuffs along two small walls. But the action, especially at lunch, has to do above all with sandwiches, with regulars frequently filling the venue’s 30 or so seats at its small tables and granite counter.

I’m a big fan of Pesto’s house-made porchetta sandwiches, with the thinly sliced roast pork served either warm with peppers and onions, or cold. Either way, the deeply flavoured meat has been piled high inside a crusty, puffy bun, and occasionally a morsel of crackling has crept in. After several of these beauts, it’s been hard for me to order anything else at the deli.

Not surprisingly given how tasty the porchetta is, selling it in large quantities has grown into a separate catering business for Nicastro, which he calls the Bootleg Porchetta Company.  The pork is sourced locally from Lavergne Western Beef in Navan and Nicastro’s artisanal end product is made without nitrates. The same goes for the house-made roast beef, which relies on hormone-free meat from O’Brien Farms in Winchester. The roast beef sandwich was good, but it doesn’t displace its porchetta rival as my go-to.

I’ve also twice tried the massive chicken parmesan hero sandwich, but have never been heroic enough to eat all of one; I’ve always saved half for later. Spread over two meals or shared, the sandwich has been a winner, with pounded-thin, breaded cutlets that were tender, freshly cooked and flourishing in an admittedly messy deluge of punchy, salty, red sauce and cheese. 

An extra-hungry friend had Pesto’s massive serving of spaghetti (not made in-house but by Parma Ravioli) with house-made meatballs at lunch and thought it generous and big-flavoured.

I’ve finished my lunches at Pestos with good Lavazza espressos and superior cannoli — regular, and, last week, Nutella-flavoured —  with light, fresh, creamy fillings. Had I less work to do after lunch, I could have had one of two beers (Big Rig Gold or Peroni) or a glass of house wine or a coffee spiked with sambuca or grappa.

Pietro’s Corner is one of Ottawa’s newer Italian eateries. It was opened in March 2015 by Pietro Derosa, a 27-year-old emigrant from Barletta in Italy’s Puglia region and the nephew of Luciano Gervasi, who opened the venerable Luciano’s Food store on Preston Street.

The main draw here is the selection of fresh pasta and sauces made on site, on display in a case by the cash. There are sandwiches and buffet items available too, although my few samplings of these selections, including a lacklustre chicken parmigiana sandwich, make me think that pastas and sauce are the way to go.

While the orrechiette, cavatelli and trofie pastas have appealed to me, I’ve always chosen one of the stuffed pastas — ravioli filled, for example, with sausage and rapini, or mushroom and leek, or spinach. Once they’ve been given a quick boil and served al dente, napped with a suitable sauce, they’ve always struck me as affordable treats. Pricing here is by weight, with cooked pasta and sauce weighed and then served for $2.59 per 100 grams. The items are cheaper bought to take home.

The classic spaghetti with bolognese sauce has been worth ordering too, with a sauce that was bright, balanced and sweetened with carrots. The tomato- and cream-based sauces — made from scaled-up family recipes, Derosa told me this week — have freshness, clarity and, if appropriate, luxurious consistencies. 

I’ve ended lunches here very pleasantly with Siafac coffee, biscotti brought in from Montreal, and sfogliatella, crunchy pastries stuffed with Nutella or ricotta, brought in from Italy.

Recently, Pietro’s Corner, which is licensed, added a blackboard menu listing not just cocktails but also wines, appetizers, and boards of cured meats and cheeses. These items, Derosa told me, fit with his plans to begin staying open later Thursday through Saturday. If the antipasti can match the level of the pastas and sauces, they’ll be another good reason to visit Derosa’s corner.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen and Fresh Pasta

471 Hazeldean Rd., 613-836-5432, facebook page
Open: Monday 10:30 a.m. to 4 p.m.; Tuesday to Friday 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., closed Sunday
Prices: Porchetta sandwiches $6.95 to $10.50, depending on size and whether it’s hot or cold

Pietro’s Corner

300 Richmond Rd., 613-695-7600, pietroscorner.com 
Open: Monday 7:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., Tuesday to Saturday 7:30 a.m. to 8 p.m., Sunday 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.
Prices: Pastas and sauces sold by weight, $2.59 per 100 grams on site

The focus today is on two casual Italian food purveyors that, even if they aren’t exactly restaurants in a more formal sense, serve fresh, well-made, reasonably priced items that I’d gladly pop by for or take home.

Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen in Kanata and Pietro’s Corner in Westboro are both blended businesses with notable pedigrees and laudable standards. At Pesto’s the main attraction is sandwiches. At Pietro’s, fresh, home-made pastas and sauces reign.

Pesto’s has been open in a Hazeldean Road strip mall since 1994, launched by Robert and David Nicastro, two sons of one of the founders of Nicastro’s Specialty Foods on Merivale Road, who later opened the Il Negozio Nicastro stores on Bank Street and Wellington Street West. Now, Pesto’s is owned and operated by another second-generation son, Michael Nicastro, who was the chef at the now closed Caffe Ventuno inside the Wellington West Nicastro for several years.

Like other Nicastro family businesses, Pesto’s is a grocery store as well as eatery, with olive oils, dried pastas and other imported Italian foodstuffs along two small walls. But the action, especially at lunch, has to do above all with sandwiches, with regulars frequently filling the venue’s 30 or so seats at its small tables and granite counter.

I’m a big fan of Pesto’s house-made porchetta sandwiches, with the thinly sliced roast pork served either warm with peppers and onions, or cold. Either way, the deeply flavoured meat has been piled high inside a crusty, puffy bun, and occasionally a morsel of crackling has crept in. After several of these beauts, it’s been hard for me to order anything else at the deli.

Not surprisingly given how tasty the porchetta is, selling it in large quantities has grown into a separate catering business for Nicastro, which he calls the Bootleg Porchetta Company.  The pork is sourced locally from Lavergne Western Beef in Navan and Nicastro’s artisanal end product is made without nitrates. The same goes for the house-made roast beef, which relies on hormone-free meat from O’Brien Farms in Winchester. The roast beef sandwich was good, but it doesn’t displace its porchetta rival as my go-to.

I’ve also twice tried the massive chicken parmesan hero sandwich, but have never been heroic enough to eat all of one; I’ve always saved half for later. Spread over two meals or shared, the sandwich has been a winner, with pounded-thin, breaded cutlets that were tender, freshly cooked and flourishing in an admittedly messy deluge of punchy, salty, red sauce and cheese. 

Chicken parm sandwich at Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen and Fresh Pasta

An extra-hungry friend had Pesto’s massive serving of spaghetti (not made in-house but by Parma Ravioli) with house-made meatballs at lunch and thought it generous and big-flavoured.

I’ve finished my lunches at Pestos with good Lavazza espressos and superior cannoli — regular, and, last week, Nutella-flavoured —  with light, fresh, creamy fillings. Had I less work to do after lunch, I could have had one of two beers (Big Rig Gold or Peroni) or a glass of house wine or a coffee spiked with sambuca or grappa.

Cannoli and coffee at Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen in Kanata

Nutella cannoli at Pesto’s Italian Delicatessen and Fresh Pasta

Pietro’s Corner is one of Ottawa’s newer Italian eateries. It was opened in March 2015 by Pietro Derosa, a 27-year-old emigrant from Barletta in Italy’s Puglia region and the nephew of Luciano Gervasi, who opened the venerable Luciano’s Food store on Preston Street.

The main draw here is the selection of fresh pasta and sauces made on site, on display in a case by the cash. There are sandwiches and buffet items available too, although my few samplings of these selections, including a lacklustre chicken parmigiana sandwich, make me think that pastas and sauce are the way to go.

While the orrechiette, cavatelli and trofie pastas have appealed to me, I’ve always chosen one of the stuffed pastas — ravioli filled, for example, with sausage and rapini, or mushroom and leek, or spinach. Once they’ve been given a quick boil and served al dente, napped with a suitable sauce, they’ve always struck me as affordable treats.

Mushroom leek pasta with house special sauce at Pietro’s Corner- pix by Peter Hum Ottawa Citizen Photo Email

Spinach ravioli with pesto rosé sauce at Pietro’s Corner

Pricing here is by weight, with cooked pasta and sauce weighed and then served for $2.59 per 100 grams. The items are cheaper bought to take home.

The classic spaghetti with bolognese sauce has been worth ordering too, with a sauce that was bright, balanced and sweetened with carrots. The tomato- and cream-based sauces — made from scaled-up family recipes, Derosa told me this week — have freshness, clarity and, if appropriate, luxurious consistencies. 

Spaghetti bolognese at Pietro’s Corner

I’ve ended lunches here very pleasantly with Siafac coffee, biscotti brought in from Montreal, and sfogliatella, crunchy pastries stuffed with Nutella or ricotta, brought in from Italy.

Recently, Pietro’s Corner, which is licensed, added a blackboard menu listing not just cocktails but also wines, appetizers, and boards of cured meats and cheeses. These items, Derosa told me, fit with his plans to begin staying open later Thursday through Saturday. If the antipasti can match the level of the pastas and sauces, they’ll be another good reason to visit Derosa’s corner.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Caspian Kabob
1729 Bank St., Unit 105, 613-800-1568, caspiankabob.ca
Open: Monday to Thursday 11:30 a.m. to 9 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m., Sunday noon to 7 p.m., closed June 20 to 28
Prices: Kabob main courses $10.99 to $21.98 
Access: No steps to front door or washrooms

In Ottawa, where recent migrations have led to kabobs becoming the new shawarma, the kilometre-or-so stretch of Bank Street between Heron and Walkley roads could well be kabob central, with Afghan, Lebanese and Iranian restaurants vying to meet the neighbourhood’s skewered-meat needs.

Of those eateries, I’ve been returning most recently to Caspian Kabob which, like most of its rivals, is tucked into a small strip mall. Leaving aside the humble place’s claim to have the best kebabs in Ottawa, Caspian Kabob, which opened in October 2014, is noteworthy simply because it waves the flag for Iranian cuisine, which is in scant supply in Ottawa.

In addition to serving kebabs, which I do ultimately think are the main draw here, Caspian Kabob serves several stews, some pleasing eggplant dips as appetizers and remarkably fluffy basmati rice. The starch of choice here is meant to be customized with pats of butter and bits of radish or even raw onion, and offered in staggering portions almost certain to yield leftovers.

Iranian restaurants frequently refer to their cuisine as Persian and, indeed, there are dishes on Caspian Kabob’s menu that seemingly have connections to pre-Christianity Persia. Archeologists have found stone tablets at the ruins of Persepolis that date back to 515 B.C. that list pantry staples including walnuts, pomegranate paste and poultry. These are the key ingredients in fesenjoun ($12.99), one of several stews offered at Caspian Kabob. The rendition I tried here was tart and basic, with white-meat chicken somewhat overcooked and nestled in a thick sauce.

Walnuts and pomegranate paste also add their boost to an appetizer of pitted green olives (zeytoon parvedeh,  $4.49). The restaurant’s most expensive “torsh” kebabs also feature a marinade of walnut, pomegranate paste and lemon juice applied to either chicken or veal. I’d report back on how they were, but they were unavailable two of the three times that I visited. A server summarized torsh kebabs ($16.50) as “more sour” — for the Persian palate, sourness is a prized aspect.

I’ve had the more ordinary and less sour kebabs and found them good to exceptional. Best were chicken kebabs, whether made of light meat ($15.49) or dark meat ($12.49), that were succulent and richly flavoured from long marinades in saffron, oil, onion and lemon juice. We were told we could add lime juice to chicken kebabs (for additional sourness, naturally), or ground sumac from a shaker on the table to our ground sirloin or veal kebabs (to add tanginess).

combo of ground beef and chicken kabobs at Caspian Kabob

If you were to go for my favourites, I’d recommend those chicken kebabs preceded by one of the smoky, eggplant-based dips ($4.99) eaten with wedges of pita bread. I preferred the savoury, luxurious kashk o’bademjan, that combined eggplant, onion and whey, topped with fried onions and mint, but miza ghazemi, which matched eggplant with onions, tomatoes and eggs, was also good.

Kashk o’bademjan Caspian Kabob

Mirza Ghazemi (eggplant/tomato/egg/onion dip) at Caspian Kabob

Ash reshteh ($4.99), a stew-like thick soup of herbs, lentils, onions and thin noodles was interesting but didn’t win us over. More substantial stews ($10.99) — ghorme sabzi, a concoction of herbs, kidney beans, beef and dried limes, and gheymeh, in which split peas and tomato sauce made the biggest impression — were thick and rustic.

Ash Reshteh (noodle soup) at Caspian Kabob

Gheymeh (stew of split peas, tomatoes, onions beef and dried lime) at Caspian Kabob

Shirazi salad ($4.49), a bowl of diced cucumbers, onions and tomatoes dressed with dried mint and lemon juice, was fresh and refreshing. Deeply pickled vegetables here were pucker-inducing.

Shirazi salad at Caspian Kabob

The lamb shank ($13.49) was strikingly cheap, but very simply prepared, short on the lavish pleasure that a more seasoned and fussed-over lamb shank can deliver. It came, though, with rice raised up a notch with dill and fava beans. 

Lamb shank at Caspian Kabob

There’s just one dessert offered at Caspian Kabob: saffron-infused, floral ice cream that can tint your teeth yellow. For sweets, Plan B could be a visit to Le Roi Pastries and Bakery next door, which teems with enough baklava to send the mind reeling.

Persian ice cream at Caspian Kabob

Service has been attentive, friendly and willing to explain the customs of Persian cuisine to the not-so-well-versed. The restaurant was closed, to our surprise, when we first tried to visit, but open three other times as signs and its website had indicated. It is also to be closed June 20 to 28.

The more I learn about Iranian food, the more that I’m inclined to think that it’s a great and intriguing cuisine. Ottawa might still waiting for a great Iranian restaurant. But for now, a pretty good and eminently affordable one such as Caspian Kabob will do.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Craft Beer Market
975 Bank St., 613-422-7238, craftbeermarket.ca/ottawa

Joey Lansdowne
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 103, 613-695-5639, joeyrestaurants.com

Local Public Eatery
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 107, 613-233-3772, locallansdowne.com

In advance of the Ottawa Redblacks’ regular season opener this Saturday, I’ve been going to Lansdowne Park recently in search of food as exciting as the football games.

In the last few weeks, I’ve made two visits to each of the park’s big three premium casual restaurants — Joey Lansdowne and Local Public Eatery, both well established, and the newcomer, Craft Beer Market, which opened a bit more than a month ago.

There are, of course, other dining options at Lansdowne. But I wanted to do rough, if not exhaustive, assessments of these three roughly comparable eateries which — unlike neighbouring rivals such as Milestones and Jack Astor’s — are unique in Ottawa, if not in Canada. Indeed, Joey, Local and Craft are all offshoots of chains that originated in Western Canada, and there are more than 20 Joeys in North America. 

Of them, Local is the most casual, with a more compact menu that emphasizes burgers and finger food, and studied, rustic interior of wood and ductwork. Joey’s look makes more upmarket allusions, surrounding guests with a big brick wall, some retro signage and large, dark banquettes. Meanwhile, its menu offers a selection of steaks plus such worldly items as sushi, ramen and paella.

You could position Craft Beer Market somewhere between Joey and Local. It’s a mashup of sports bar and gastro pub, with a huge bar that has 100 beers on tap at the centre of its two-storey expanse. Craft is decorated with lots of beer kegs and plenty of TVs tuned to the game, and its menu offers, in addition to the usual fare, some dressed-up comfort food.  

All three places have kitchens that quickly produced our orders. The restaurants like to point out how much cooking actually goes on in those kitchens, with references to “hand-pressed” burger patties and “daily spun” ice cream dotting menus. Service at the eateries was always attentive and friendly.

At all three places, the prices were too often higher than I’d like. 

While Craft, Local and Joey are not quite interchangeable, some direct comparisons are possible. For example, I tried burgers at all three, and in each case received massive, meaty creations with nicely crusted, if less than juicy, patties and fresh toppings. The sesame-seed buns for the burgers at Joey and Local were identical, which might reflect the fact that the same restaurant group owns both eateries. The miso mustard on one of Local’s burgers ($12.25) made it my favourite.

Burger and fries at Local

Moroccan chicken soup and burger at Joey Lansdowne

Burger and fries at Craft Beer Market

“Baja” fish tacos at all three places were more perfunctory, generally very heavy on slaw or cilantro or both. Craft’s cod tacos ($13.50 for three) had the most flavour. The Local fish taco ($5 for one) was as heavily battered as the fish in its fish and chips. 

Fish tacos at Craft Beer Market

Fish tacos at Joey Lansdowne

Fish taco at Local

It’s interesting that tuna poke — a dish of diced and dressed (typically soy and ginger) cubes of raw fish that’s ubiquitous in Hawaii — hasn’t made it to many Ottawa restaurants. Local and Craft have brought the Pacific treat here. However, Local’s version ($13.50), served with its very good house-made corn chips, is just so-so, muddled in flavour and marred by mushy avocado. Craft’s has more clarity, but there’s also more cucumber than tuna to it.

tuna poke at Local

Tuna poke with wonton at Craft Beer Market

Aside from those comparisons, I found strengths and weaknesses at each of the restaurants.

At Local, guacamole ($7) made table-side by a server was very good, lacking just a little lime juice, and a likeable starter with those very good chips. Yam fries with truffled aioli were spot-on. But the ginger sesame chicken salad ($15) was a bore, and a flat-iron steak sandwich ($19.50) was a touch underdone and too chewy. 

Guacamole made at the table and chips at Local

Ginger sesame chicken salad at Local

Steak sandwich and fries at Local

At Joey, fried calamari ($14) was disappointing — lacking seasoning and needing a punchier sauce. Gyoza with seared undersides ($13) were a little better, but not as good as those pork dumplings can be. The steak with mushrooms ($30) was adequate but again, better steaks can be had for less elsewhere. Miso ramen means to cash in on the hearty Japanese soup’s big moment ($17), but almost every component, and especially broth to noodles, fell short of authentic goodness. 

Calamari at Joey Lansdowne

Gyoza at Joey Lansdowne

Steak with mushrooms and spring-roll-wrapped potatoes at Joey Lansdowne

Miso Ramen at Joey Lansdowne

Two pleasant orders partially redeemed our dinner-time visit to Joey. The fully loaded and well-sauced rainbow roll made of tuna, salmon, avocado and bonafide, tasty crab ($15) did its sushi chef proud. Paella ($22.50) was a surprising success, with toothsome chicken and shrimp and meaningfully seasoned rice.  

Rainbow sushi roll at Joey Lansdowne

Paella at Joey Lansdowne

At Craft, our general observation was that too many items, and in particular side orders of veg, were overly salted and seasoned — all the better to spur beer sales, perhaps.

But the main dishes we tried were appealing, including a chunk of brisket, sufficiently slow-braised to mimic short rib, a thick, if overly salty, pork chop, and a slow-roasted half-chicken that was appreciably moist and served with a fine jus (in a beer can, no less).

braised brisket at Craft Beer Market

Pork chop at Craft Beer Market

Beer can chicken at Craft Beer Market

Dessert devotees will find little to like at Local. Its only meal-ender is a pail of large, doughy churros ($6) with a cup of too-thin cocoa for dipping.

At Craft, we tried the “house-made” but too-simple ice cream sandwiches ($9) made with Farm Boy salted caramel ice cream between two chocolate cookies. The homey “dessert in a jar” ($9) was an all-in-one of chocolate cake, sponge toffee, bananas, chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream that, despite all its ingredients, still seemed to be missing something.

At Joey, the molten chocolate soufflé ($9.50) oozed dark, intense chocolate, and was as over-the-top as those other desserts were under.

Churros with cocoa at Local

Ice cream sandwiches at Craft Beer Market

Dessert in a jar at Craft Beer Market

Molten chocolate souffle at Joey Lansdowne

So, what would my best meal at Lansdowne be? I hope it’s not cheating to pick the guacamole and chips at Local followed by the rainbow roll at Joey and then Craft’s beer can chicken. Certainly none of my six meals was wholly exceptional, and most were at least a little uneven.

But then, if you’re at Lansdowne, you’re not simply there to eat, are you? Don’t you have a Redblacks game to get to?

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Craft Beer Market
975 Bank St., 613-422-7238, craftbeermarket.ca/ottawa

Joey Lansdowne
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 103, 613-695-5639, joeyrestaurants.com

Local Public Eatery
825 Exhibition Way, Unit 107, 613-233-3772, locallansdowne.com

In advance of the Ottawa Redblacks’ regular season opener this Saturday, I’ve been going to Lansdowne Park recently in search of food as exciting as the football games.

In the last few weeks, I’ve made two visits to each of the park’s big three premium casual restaurants — Joey Lansdowne and Local Public Eatery, both well established, and the newcomer, Craft Beer Market, which opened a bit more than a month ago.

There are, of course, other dining options at Lansdowne. But I wanted to do rough, if not exhaustive, assessments of these three roughly comparable eateries which — unlike neighbouring rivals such as Milestones and Jack Astor’s — are unique in Ottawa, if not in Canada. Indeed, Joey, Local and Craft are all offshoots of chains that originated in Western Canada, and there are more than 20 Joeys in North America. 

Of them, Local is the most casual, with a more compact menu that emphasizes burgers and finger food, and studied, rustic interior of wood and ductwork. Joey’s look makes more upmarket allusions, surrounding guests with a big brick wall, some retro signage and large, dark banquettes. Meanwhile, its menu offers a selection of steaks plus such worldly items as sushi, ramen and paella.

You could position Craft Beer Market somewhere between Joey and Local. It’s a mashup of sports bar and gastro pub, with a huge bar that has 100 beers on tap at the centre of its two-storey expanse. Craft is decorated with lots of beer kegs and plenty of TVs tuned to the game, and its menu offers, in addition to the usual fare, some dressed-up comfort food.  

All three places have kitchens that quickly produced our orders. The restaurants like to point out how much cooking actually goes on in those kitchens, with references to “hand-pressed” burger patties and “daily spun” ice cream dotting menus. Service at the eateries was always attentive and friendly.

At all three places, the prices were too often higher than I’d like. 

While Craft, Local and Joey are not quite interchangeable, some direct comparisons are possible. For example, I tried burgers at all three, and in each case received massive, meaty creations with nicely crusted, if less than juicy, patties and fresh toppings. The sesame-seed buns for the burgers at Joey and Local were identical, which might reflect the fact that the same restaurant group owns both eateries. The miso mustard on one of Local’s burgers ($12.25) made it my favourite.

“Baja” fish tacos at all three places were more perfunctory, generally very heavy on slaw or cilantro or both. Craft’s cod tacos ($13.50 for three) had the most flavour. The Local fish taco ($5 for one) was as heavily battered as the fish in its fish and chips. 

It’s interesting that tuna poke — a dish of diced and dressed (typically soy and ginger) cubes of raw fish that’s ubiquitous in Hawaii — hasn’t made it to many Ottawa restaurants. Local and Craft have brought the Pacific treat here. However, Local’s version ($13.50), served with its very good house-made corn chips, is just so-so, muddled in flavour and marred by mushy avocado. Craft’s has more clarity, but there’s also more cucumber than tuna to it.

Aside from those comparisons, I found strengths and weaknesses at each of the restaurants.

At Local, guacamole ($7) made table-side by a server was very good, lacking just a little lime juice, and a likeable starter with those very good chips. Yam fries with truffled aioli were spot-on. But the ginger sesame chicken salad ($15) was a bore, and a flat-iron steak sandwich ($19.50) was a touch underdone and too chewy. 

At Joey, fried calamari ($14) was disappointing — lacking seasoning and needing a punchier sauce. Gyoza with seared undersides ($13) were a little better, but not as good as those pork dumplings can be. The steak with mushrooms ($30) was adequate but again, better steaks can be had for less elsewhere. Miso ramen means to cash in on the hearty Japanese soup’s big moment ($17), but almost every component, and especially broth to noodles, fell short of authentic goodness. 

Two pleasant orders partially redeemed our dinner-time visit to Joey. The fully loaded and well-sauced rainbow roll made of tuna, salmon, avocado and bonafide, tasty crab ($15) did its sushi chef proud. Paella ($22.50) was a surprising success, with toothsome chicken and shrimp and meaningfully seasoned rice.  

At Craft, our general observation was that too many items, and in particular side orders of veg, were overly salted and seasoned — all the better to spur beer sales, perhaps.

But the main dishes we tried were appealing, including a chunk of brisket, sufficiently slow-braised to mimic short rib, a thick, if overly salty, pork chop, and a slow-roasted half-chicken that was appreciably moist and served with a fine jus (in a beer can, no less).

Dessert devotees will find little to like at Local. Its only meal-ender is a pail of large, doughy churros ($6) with a cup of too-thin cocoa for dipping.

At Craft, we tried the “house-made” but too-simple ice cream sandwiches ($9) made with Farm Boy salted caramel ice cream between two chocolate cookies. The homey “dessert in a jar” ($9) was an all-in-one of chocolate cake, sponge toffee, bananas, chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream that, despite all its ingredients, still seemed to be missing something.

At Joey, the molten chocolate soufflé ($9.50) oozed dark, intense chocolate, and was as over-the-top as those other desserts were under.

So, what would my best meal at Lansdowne be? I hope it’s not cheating to pick the guacamole and chips at Local followed by the rainbow roll at Joey and then Craft’s beer can chicken. Certainly none of my six meals was wholly exceptional, and most were at least a little uneven.

But then, if you’re at Lansdowne, you’re not simply there to eat, are you? Don’t you have a Redblacks game to get to?

Sansotei Ramen
153 Bank St., 613-695-1718, sansotei.com
Open: Monday to Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., closed Sunday 
Prices: noodle soups $10 to $10.75
Access: One step into restaurant

Ten minutes later, we were done. And we were very satisfied.

That meal at Sansotei Ramen was quick, tasty, cheap, belly-filling — and popular.

Before it opened two months ago, the restaurant on a quiet stretch of Bank Street north of Laurier Avenue had been much anticipated thanks to online buzz. Sansotei is the sister restaurant of a three-location chain in Toronto, and ramen devotees in Ottawa, where choices for the new millennium’s most trendy soup had been very limited, were keen to pounce on bowls of what they hoped would be the “real thing.” 

The rush for ramen, I digress, has occurred despite the fact that Ottawa is blessed with superior pho at locations too numerous to count, such that I wonder if foodies now take the city’s proliferation great Vietnamese soup for granted. But back to the review.

During the last month, I’ve made several trips to Sansotei, taking lunch or dinner early to beat the line-ups that often materialized. (The restaurant doesn’t take reservations.)

At the narrow, neutral, egalitarian place that seats 30, I’ve gotten right down to business, ordering quickly from the concise menu. The soups have landed speedily on my table, in just a bit more time than it’s taken to admire the low-key decor — thick ropes hanging overhead and one long mirrored wall makes the place appear larger. 

From the choices of a half-dozen or so starters and soups, I’ve had some consistently made treats, finding some treats worth craving and one or two things that appealed less.

All of Sansotei’s soups rely on pork-bone-based broth, made daily, and they’re differentiated by different additions that might include chicken or fish among their components and which meld beguilingly well. 

I’m most keen, but just by a bit, on the evocatively named tonkotsu black, which delivered with all its ingredients — a deeply savoury broth, topped with black garlic oil that felt fresh and revitalizing rather than simply heavy, toothsome noodles with some nice, springy resistance, two discs of pork belly with good meat-to-fat ratios and a proper sear, halves of soft-boiled egg, plus morsels of green onion and wood-ear mushroom to add crunch and focused flavours. 

Tonkotsu Black ramen at Sansotei Ramen

You would lose little if, in the name of avoiding post-meal garlic breath, you opted for simple tonkotsu minus the garlic oil.

Tonkotsu ramen at Sansotei Ramen on Bank Street.

Lighter but still very appealing was the shio ramen, flavoured simply but not overly with sea salt. I preferred it to shoyu (soy sauce-flavoured) ramen.

Shio ramen at Sansotei Ramen

Sansotei’s website, which offers more of a lesson in ramen than its menu, notes that some soups are more authentically served with thick or thin noodles, and servers will always ask your preference. Authenticity aside, I’d just as soon have thick noodles all the time.

For a change-up, I’d be fine with the spicy tan tan ramen, a medium-heat riff on Sichuan’s dan dan noodle, even if once I reached the ground-pork-laced dregs of the bowl, I wondered if I would have been happier with unadulterated dan dan noodles. 

Spicy tan tan noodles at Sansotei Ramen

I’m not likely to order again the tomato-based ramen, which was distinguished by a hefty single scallop, freshly shucked, untrimmed and tough. 

Tomato ramen at Sansotei Ramen

Of the limited number of smaller, snackier choices, I’d happily eat once more the pork gyozas, even if, after a server’s notice that they might take 15 to 25 minutes to make, they were to arrive after the ramen. Ditto the deep-fried chicken karaage. Slow-braised chicken wings have good five-space flavour and succulence, but will disappoint eaters who want their chicken skin crisp rather than flabby.

Made-to-order gyoza dumplings at Sansotei Ramen

Chicken karaage at Sansotei Ramen

Slow-braised chicken wings at Sansotei Ramen

For dessert, I’ve had the green tea cheese cake, which was pleasantly restrained in size and sweetness.

Green tea cheesecake at Sansotei Ramen

Sansotei’s liquor license has been filed, and if the Ottawa location follows the Toronto models, Sapporo beer will be served. Meanwhile, another distinctly Japanese and curious beverage can be had. You will probably have to ask a server or knowing neighbour how to open the soda that’s been stoppered with a marble. 

Sansotei’s instant success makes me hope that other ramen purveyors that have built up the ramen scenes in Toronto, Vancouver or even Manhattan, will scout out Ottawa and help to raise the soup standard here. All I can say regarding more Japanese broth and noodles is: bring them on.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews

Fairouz
343 Somerset St. W., 613-422-7700, fairouz.ca
Open: Tuesday to Thursday 5:30 to 10:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday 5:30 to 11 p.m., closed Sunday and Monday
Prices: small plates $6 to $17, larger plates $24 to $32 
Access: steps to front door, washrooms downstairs

My dining companion, someone well-versed in the ways of Michelin-starred restaurants and Middle Eastern cuisine alike, took a bite of his falafel at Fairouz.

A smile lit up his face and he launched into a small panegyric on the virtues of this four-month-old Centretown restaurant’s refined deep-fried chickpea fritters ($11 for four).

Falafel at Fairouz

“I love it because it tastes like falafel should taste,” he said, recalling innumerable just-fried falafels he had eaten from stands and street shops in Israel. He just can’t eat falafel anywhere else in Ottawa, he added, because they’re typically reheated, soggy, dense, greasy and sometimes gummy.

He also appreciated the chef’s personal twists — amping up the tahini on the plate and in the falafel with a bright hit of dill, as well as adding heat and beauty with slices of radish topped with potently spicy house-made harissa sauce.  

Based on this dish and many others, not to mention its decor and drinks, Fairouz is  unique in Ottawa.

Yes, it revives the name of a well-regarded restaurant that did business in the 1990s and early 2000s at the same address, and Dr. Hussain Rahal, one of the new Fairouz’s owners, is a member of the family that ran the first Fairouz and he worked there when he was going to school.

But Fairouz circa 2016 serves elevated Middle Eastern-inspired dishes in a city where, for decades, shawarma has set a lower, cheaper standard. Chef Walid El-Tawel, whose father is Palestinian, has crafted a novel and coherent menu that taps into that side of his ancestry. His kitchen, which values from-scratch prep and local producers, executes well, but that should not surprise given that El-Tawel, just 29, was not that long ago in charge of the kitchen at Restaurant E18hteen.

Chef Walid El-Tawel, left, is in charge of the kitchen at Fairouz

Nearly everything I’ve eaten during two dinners at Fairouz has been enjoyable, intriguing and flavour-forward. Dishes have also been sumptuously and colourfully plated — a must, I’d say, as they have to match the alluring look of Fairouz, which seats about 70 downstairs plus 45 in a private upstairs room.

Designer Kayla Pongrac (Ace Mercado, Tomo, The Waverley) has re-imagined the interior of this Centretown heritage mansion as a collection of eclectic and distinctive, sleek but comfortable dining spaces complemented by Moorish wrought-iron dividers, brick work, patterned wallpaper and Pongrac’s stairway mural.

Designer Kayla Pongrac created the interior of Fairouz

There are bar-side high tables, plush burgundy couches paired with black oval tables and turquoise (“Fairouz” is Arabic for turquoise) banquettes beside white tables just in front of the window onto the kitchen. Forced to pick a favourite spot to sit in such an interesting place, I like the latter. 

Service has been of a consistently high standard — polished, attentive, personable and eager to demystify El-Tawel’s dishes, which, by the way, are meant to be shared, although could still be considered roughly as appetizers and main courses.

Servers might suggest you ease into dinner with some dip ($6) and pita (house-made to order, as is everything at Fairouz) while you ponder what to eat after. Don’t pass on that prelude to the meal. I’m partial to the chunky muhammara made with red pepper, pomegranate and walnuts, or the slick, cool labneh (strained yogurt), only because the solidly made baba ghanoush is more familiar. All were excellent with warm, small, puffed up pita, although a top-up of bread ($2 per pita) was needed.

Muhumarra and labneh dips at Fairouz

Olives, baba ghanoush, pita and labneh at Fairouz

Apart from the falafel, I’ve enjoyed the fil fil kebab ($16), a spicy, better-dressed version of that meaty staple, and the sophisticated tuna maslouka ($17), which offset the impeccable, spiced and seared fish with blobs of not-too-sweet hibiscus gel, finely diced cucumbers and herbs grown in-house. 

Fil fil kebab at Fairouz

Tuna maslouka at Fairouz

The only appetizer that fell somewhat short was the lamb tartare ($18), and the fault lay not so much with the lean, pristine lamb, but with the bulgur crackers. While El-Tawel might have intended his dish to be a relative of kibbeh, its crackers were a jarring, too-crunchy distraction, and the lamb was better appreciated on its own.

Lamb tartare at Fairouz

Among El-Tawel’s mains, the dish built around slabs of lamb loin, strikingly seared but still perfectly pink inside and sweetened with pomegranate molasses, was a standout ($32). Every component on the dish, from tamed bitter greens to a “couscous” of cauliflower to streaks of smoky red chermoula (a North African sauce) was wonderful.

Pomegranate molasses lamb loin at Fairouz

Two poultry dishes were also hits. Chicken breast ($29) that was cooked sous-vide before leaning on sumac for its potent flavour was well-matched with a warm eggplant relish, charred onions and a sweet slick of date “leather.” Luscious slices of spiced duck breast ($30) kept luxurious company with a saffron béarnaise foam, grilled mushrooms and barberry jam. 

Sumac chicken at Fairouz

Duck breast with asparagus, saffron béarnaise foam at Fairouz

A less striking choice was white bass ($28), sitting on braised hearts of palm and made more exciting with a crust of dukkah (spices and nuts) and a green sauce based on zhoug, the Middle Eastern condiment of coriander, chiles and spices.

Dukkah-crusted white bass at Fairouz

Starch at Fairouz is essentially served on the side, in the form of bowls of festive rices ($12). Jawaher Rice, studded with pomegranate, pistachio, cardamom, candied orange and flowers, was the more extravagant of the two, although when I tried it the rice was overcooked and unfluffy. At my other visit, mujadarra rice, cooked in a cinnamon broth and served with caramelized onions and labneh, was spot-on.

Jawaher rice at Fairouz

Mujadarra rice

Desserts by pastry chef Marta Caferra, 30, also take the new Middle Eastern concept and run with it. We thought very highly of her lovely, delicate creation that mounted scoops of hibiscus-flavoured, thickened, semifreddo-like cream on crunchy vermicelli nests and nestled them in a tonka-bean cream, beside scatterings of pomegranate seeds.

Frozen hibiscus cream dessert at Fairouz restaurant

Playful and indulgent were some rich, posh ice cream bars ($6), in coconut or chocolate, made with Gatineau-made Olivia dark chocolate.

Ice cream bars at Fairouz

Notable among the drinks at Fairouz were cocktails tinged by Middle Eastern flavours, a smart and eclectic wine list that includes glasses and bottles of Lebanese wine, and several kinds of arak, the anise-based Middle Eastern spirit.

Only the music here has eschewed the Middle Eastern influence. Western, poppy sounds predominated. I’ve heard Lionel Richie and Stevie Wonder tunes, although late one night (dinners tend to go long) some Middle Eastern lute provided a change of pace. 

Of course, Ottawans who have eaten countless kebabs and falafel might flinch at the prices at Fairouz. But, and that’s in addition to the setting and service here, El-Tawel’s creative and technical successes make a persuasive case for Middle Eastern fine dining otherwise absent absent in Ottawa.

Cut back on the shawarma and consider a splurge at Fairouz. It could be revelatory.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum
Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews