Pi-Rho Grill
81 Riocan Ave., unit M4 in the Barrhaven Marketplace, 613-823-7171, pirhogrill.com
Open: Monday to Thursday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11 a.m. to 11 p.m., Sunday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. 
Prices: $8.75 to $12.25 for salads, grain bowls, pita sandwiches
Access: no steps

By now, any seasoned foodie worth his pink Himalayan salt can rhyme off the signs of an enlightened restaurant.

Does it sing from the farm-to-table hymn book? Does its kitchen eschew additive-laced, processed-food shortcuts to cook from scratch? Does it serve locally made beverages? Does it have vegan and gluten-free options?

I expect some, if not all, of these boxes to be ticked off at new and often higher-end Ottawa restaurants, especially downtown and along the city’s more competitive dining streets.

But I was surprised to see Pi-Rho Grill — a fast casual Mediterranean/Greek eatery in a big Barrhaven mall —abide by the new tenets of dining out. Opened in April, it has the look and feel of a chain or franchise operation, but it isn’t – at least, yet.

The eatery was created and is owned by George Plagakis, who through the 2000s was a partner running the three Baton Rouge franchises in Ottawa and Hull.

Pi-Rho serves fast food, with staffers pulling together pita wraps, grain bowls and the like assembly-line style as customers move along the queue, indicating their preferences for meats or toppings.

But in contrast to a shawarma shop or other fast food joint, Pi-Rho proudly calls its fare “true food.” Its signage boasts about Ontario lamb and Angus beef. Its soups, sauces and the like are made in-house, and freshly so, they say.

Its two draft beers are brewed locally, by Kichesippi Beer Company, while soda choices include bottles of Harvey and Vern’s, brewed out of the Kichesippi brewery, as well as fizzy, fruity Loux soft drinks imported from Greece. 

The eatery also has a commitment to recycling and composting so that disposable cutlery, bowls, cups and foil don’t end up in the landfill. It walls and tables are made of reclaimed oak and fir. 

There are also USB charging ports on the walls. 

But locavorism, environmentalism and marketing aside, how does the eating at Pi-Rho stack up?

Over three visits, I’ve been, for the most part, pleasantly pleased by the food, cooked on the grill or combination oven. With the food, developed by chef Luis Molina, the flavours have been bigger and more fresh and varied than at comparable casual places. 

Mind you, the initial visits for myself and my friends required some deciphering of Pi-Rho’s five-step ordering regimen, which deconstructs an item into a sequence of ingredients.

The bottom line might be that you want braised lamb in a pita with tzatziki, feta, quinoa, tomato and onions with the house’s pomegranate and ginger dressing. It’s a little tricky the first time, but easier on later visits, to get what you want.

As per the assembly line, Pi-Rho’s food is very modular. The first choice is essentially between between a salad, a grain bowl, a large pita wrap, two mini-pitas and a mini-pita/soup combo. After that choice, a customer picks a dip or two (tzatziki, feta, eggplant and red pepper, hummus, red pepper hummus, or spicy harissa), then a protein (chicken breast, vegetables, zucchini cakes, beef or lamb meat balls, braised beef or lamb). Then it’s on to toppings and dressings.

What worked best for me? The braised lamb, seasoned with garlic, turmeric and coriander, had fine flavour and texture. Lamb meatballs made with harissa and cilantro were moist had a nice spicy kick. The spiced tzatziki and jalapeno-spiked feta were punchy additions, and the beet-and-cranberry-spiked quinoa was nicely sweet, but not overly so. Those items figured in the “boss’s favourite” and “chef’s favourite” items on a chalkboard, which made for easier, choice-free ordering.

Boss’s favourite grain bowl with braised lamb, saffron basmati rice, tzatziki, feta, beet-and-cranberry quinoa, pomegranate ginger dressing at Pi-Rho Grill

Also, the pitas were warmed to order and fluffy. A bowl of ginger butternut soup was not shy about its ginger. 

Pitas at Pi-Rho Grill

Butternut squash ginger soup and roasted vegetables mini pita at Pi-Rho Grill.

What I liked less, was the lack of a dessert, although Plagakis says he hopes to have a Greek yoghurt-based meal-ender available in a few weeks, as well as Ottawa-roasted Equator coffee.

Also, a server or two was inexperienced and perplexed by his or her assembling duties. But what I really didn’t like was a hair found in a friend’s grain bowl, seemingly in a scoop of saffron basmati rice. He returned to the counter, discretely mentioned the hair, and received a new order.

Rice bowl with chicken breast at Pi-Rho Grill in Barrhaven

Plagakis said his service could be improved upon with better training. “I think it’s good. It just needs to be great,” he said. “I want to support the local students,” he added. Store manager Tom Tohme said there have been no other complaints about foreign objects since the restaurant opened.

Plagakis said that he dreams of developing the Pi-Rho brand and having multiple locations, at which point he could source his meats locally. He is scouting options downtown and in Kanata.

A neighbourhood beyond Barrhaven should welcome a Pi-Rho if Plagakis can pull it off, I think. It might not be a fancy date-night experience, but it is quick, wallet-friendly food that I found to be better-than-average tasty and, with that one exception, well-made and assembled. I would go back.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Bar Laurel 
1087 Wellington St. W., 613-695-5559, barlaurel.ca
Open: Daily 5 p.m. to 2 a.m., Sunday brunch in the works 
Prices: snacks and small plates $4 to $25, shared platters $25 to $70
Access: steps to entrance

Bar Laurel, which opened in mid-July in the heart of Hintonburg, is most definitely a bar, and a good-looking one at that.

Dispelling memories of its address’s warm and woody former tenant, the Back Lane Café, this cozy, 45-seater features a striking, back-lit array of liquor above a central bar, stylish but subdued lighting, and dark walls, including one of charred cedar. The cocktails intrigue while the wines, many by the glass, tend to the natural and bio-dynamic.

But it’s also a bar that should attract food lovers from across Ottawa.

Bar Laurel is the second project from the owners of Fauna, a sleek, two-year-old go-to for refined small plates and more in Centretown. There, chef and partner Jon Svazas proved his mettle and earned his spot at last year’s Gold Medal Plates Ottawa competition, where, out of 10 leading local chefs, he came in second.

What’s more, with Bar Laurel, Svazas applies his skills and creativity to Basque and Northern Spanish cooking, and in particular to its bar snacks called pintxos. Ottawa can definitely use more of that under-represented but delicious cuisine. In his efforts, Svazas is aided by Back Lane’s wood ovens and some additional charcoal grills.

I visited Bar Laurel three times in September and tried almost half of its 30-item menu. By and large, I was pleased and delighted by its plates, small or large, simple or complex. A few were saltier than needed. But more often, whether we were sampling pristine, exotic ingredients presented with minimum fuss, or more crafted and even deluxe kitchen creations, we received lucidly-flavoured and well-made dishes that couldn’t be had elsewhere in town.  

Of course, fare like this doesn’t come cheaply. Yes, it’s food served in a bar, but we’re not talking wings and nachos. I’d say Svazas’s exotic and value-added treats are worth it, even if they involve splurging.

My only meaningful complaint about Bar Laurel is that unless you snag an early-evening window seat, you’ll need to browse the menu and admire the attractive food by the light of your cellphone. For those who, as some say, eat with their eyes, Bar Laurel can be frustrating. 

The bar’s most current menu lists 20 or so pintxos and tapas, the former smaller than the latter, plus three Spanish preserved seafood items, three charcoal-grilled skewers, and two large, family-style plates that are meant, like everything else, to be shared.

Having a good, knowledgeable server, someone who can explain and recommend among the Spanish-titled items, helps. We were never let down, and staffer Liz Dunlop was especially good. 

Svazas’s fondness for the food of Northern Spain, which he’s visited a few times in recent years, is such that he’s confident enough to offer fresh-off-the-leg slices of 36-month-old, acorn-fed pata negra ham in precisely weighed $25 and $50 portions with some crostini to sit on. That world-class delicacy is nearly as expensive in Spain, in case you thought there was an outrageous trans-Atlantic markup. Brimming with complex flavours, this unapologetically fatty ham of the gods was gorgeously nutty and sweet as well as meaty.

A $25 serving of acorn-fed pata negra ham at Bar Laurel

Served almost as succinctly was a tin of razor clams ($25)  — sweet and clear of flavour, clean of grit and none the worse after being preserved in their brine — accompanied by roasted cherry tomatoes and crostini.

Razor clams with cherry tomatoes and crostini at Bar Laurel

Just as simple were shishito peppers ($8), salted and oiled and roasted so that the oil picked up their distinctive flavour. An even more special pepper, the thin, preserved Spanish guindilla, appeared with anchovy and olive in the classically pintxo called Gilda ($4 for two), fancied up by Svazas with a cocktail onion and preserved orange.

Croquettes of Iberian ham ($12 for two) were delicious, molten, impeccably fried and paired with a punchy salsa verde that cut their richness. Another triumphant starch-sauce combo was patatas bravas ($6) — perfect cubes of potato topped with a red, creamy sauce rich with smoked paprika.

Bar Laurel’s Croquetas de Iberico.

Bar Laurel’s Boquerones

Meatballs of dry-aged beef ($9 for three) were moist, loose and flavour-packed, and they came in an honest, mellow, roasted tomato sauce.

The only pintxo I questioned was a serving of fried eggplant with burnt honey and yogurt ($8). Its saltiness, sweetness and tanginess seemed to fight each other, although a friend had no qualms. 

All of the grilled, skewered items were winners, although be warned that they were more snacked-sized than, say, beef or chicken kabobs at Middle Eastern or Central Asian eateries in town. Halloumi cheese was grilled nicely on one skewer ($10), but better was the simply seasoned lamb ($12) and best was the rich, tender “secreto de Ibérico,” a supreme butcher’s cut of pork ($18). 

Grilled octopus with kale, fennel and warm fingerling potatoes ($18) was a nicely composed, smoky plate, and verged on a main course in terms of variety and heft.

Bar Laurel’s grilled octopus

Of Bar Laurel’s two large plates, I had a clear favourite.

While a half-chicken ($25) was flavourful, very moist and well sauced, I wished for crisp skin.

Admittedly expensive at $70, but exceptional was the 80-day dry-aged, 20-ounce ribeye steak with demi-glace, salsa verde, fingerlings, enoki mushrooms and broccolini. Decadently and extensively marbled with chewy but tasty fat, and funkily flavoured in its concentrated beefiness, the steak wouldn’t be for everyone. But it definitely satisfied the connoisseur carnivores at our table. 

Dry-aged ribeye steak at Bar Laurel

The fortunate flip-side of not being filled up by small plates is having room for dessert. We tried two of three, and were wowed. Chocolate mousse adorned with candied almonds and roasted peaches ($12) was quickly and happily devoured. Warm Basque cheesecake ($12), made of goat cheese and mascarpone was phenomenal — light, fluffy, tangy, sweet. The dessert agnostic at our table was won over, and raved about it.

Bar Laurel’s Basque Burnt Cheesecake

Chocolate mousse at Bar Laurel

Svazas told me his cheesecake was inspired by a similar creation at La Viña, a pintxos bar in San Sebastián, the Basque city that’s an eating mecca for many a foodie, including me.

I don’t know when I’ll next get back to San Sebastián, but until then, I have the pintxos and more at Bar Laurel as a mighty consolation.

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

Bar Laurel 
1087 Wellington St. W., 613-695-5559, barlaurel.ca
Open: Daily 5 p.m. to 2 a.m., Sunday brunch in the works 
Prices: snacks and small plates $4 to $25, shared platters $25 to $70
Access: steps to entrance

Bar Laurel, which opened in mid-July in the heart of Hintonburg, is most definitely a bar, and a good-looking one at that.

Dispelling memories of its address’s warm and woody former tenant, the Back Lane Café, this cozy, 45-seater features a striking, back-lit array of liquor above a central bar, stylish but subdued lighting, and dark walls, including one of charred cedar. The cocktails intrigue while the wines, many by the glass, tend to the natural and bio-dynamic.

But it’s also a bar that should attract food lovers from across Ottawa.

Bar Laurel is the second project from the owners of Fauna, a sleek, two-year-old go-to for refined small plates and more in Centretown. There, chef and partner Jon Svazas proved his mettle and earned his spot at last year’s Gold Medal Plates Ottawa competition, where, out of 10 leading local chefs, he came in second.

What’s more, with Bar Laurel, Svazas applies his skills and creativity to Basque and Northern Spanish cooking, and in particular to its bar snacks called pintxos. Ottawa can definitely use more of that under-represented but delicious cuisine. In his efforts, Svazas is aided by Back Lane’s wood ovens and some additional charcoal grills.

I visited Bar Laurel three times in September and tried almost half of its 30-item menu. By and large, I was pleased and delighted by its plates, small or large, simple or complex. A few were saltier than needed. But more often, whether we were sampling pristine, exotic ingredients presented with minimum fuss, or more crafted and even deluxe kitchen creations, we received lucidly-flavoured and well-made dishes that couldn’t be had elsewhere in town.  

Of course, fare like this doesn’t come cheaply. Yes, it’s food served in a bar, but we’re not talking wings and nachos. I’d say Svazas’s exotic and value-added treats are worth it, even if they involve splurging.

My only meaningful complaint about Bar Laurel is that unless you snag an early-evening window seat, you’ll need to browse the menu and admire the attractive food by the light of your cellphone. For those who, as some say, eat with their eyes, Bar Laurel can be frustrating. 

The bar’s most current menu lists 20 or so pintxos and tapas, the former smaller than the latter, plus three Spanish preserved seafood items, three charcoal-grilled skewers, and two large, family-style plates that are meant, like everything else, to be shared.

Having a good, knowledgeable server, someone who can explain and recommend among the Spanish-titled items, helps. We were never let down, and staffer Liz Dunlop was especially good. 

Svazas’s fondness for the food of Northern Spain, which he’s visited a few times in recent years, is such that he’s confident enough to offer fresh-off-the-leg slices of 36-month-old, acorn-fed pata negra ham in precisely weighed $25 and $50 portions with some crostini to sit on. That world-class delicacy is nearly as expensive in Spain, in case you thought there was an outrageous trans-Atlantic markup. Brimming with complex flavours, this unapologetically fatty ham of the gods was gorgeously nutty and sweet as well as meaty.

Served almost as succinctly was a tin of razor clams ($25)  — sweet and clear of flavour, clean of grit and none the worse after being preserved in their brine — accompanied by roasted cherry tomatoes and crostini.

Just as simple were shishito peppers ($8), salted and oiled and roasted so that the oil picked up their distinctive flavour. An even more special pepper, the thin, preserved Spanish guindilla, appeared with anchovy and olive in the classically pintxo called Gilda ($4 for two), fancied up by Svazas with a cocktail onion and preserved orange.

Croquettes of Iberian ham ($12 for two) were delicious, molten, impeccably fried and paired with a punchy salsa verde that cut their richness. Another triumphant starch-sauce combo was patatas bravas ($6) — perfect cubes of potato topped with a red, creamy sauce rich with smoked paprika.

Meatballs of dry-aged beef ($9 for three) were moist, loose and flavour-packed, and they came in an honest, mellow, roasted tomato sauce.

The only pintxo I questioned was a serving of fried eggplant with burnt honey and yogurt ($8). Its saltiness, sweetness and tanginess seemed to fight each other, although a friend had no qualms. 

All of the grilled, skewered items were winners, although be warned that they were more snacked-sized than, say, beef or chicken kabobs at Middle Eastern or Central Asian eateries in town. Halloumi cheese was grilled nicely on one skewer ($10), but better was the simply seasoned lamb ($12) and best was the rich, tender “secreto de Ibérico,” a supreme butcher’s cut of pork ($18). 

Grilled octopus with kale, fennel and warm fingerling potatoes ($18) was a nicely composed, smoky plate, and verged on a main course in terms of variety and heft.

Of Bar Laurel’s two large plates, I had a clear favourite.

While a half-chicken ($25) was flavourful, very moist and well sauced, I wished for crisp skin.

Admittedly expensive at $70, but exceptional was the 80-day dry-aged, 20-ounce ribeye steak with demi-glace, salsa verde, fingerlings, enoki mushrooms and broccolini. Decadently and extensively marbled with chewy but tasty fat, and funkily flavoured in its concentrated beefiness, the steak wouldn’t be for everyone. But it definitely satisfied the connoisseur carnivores at our table. 

The fortunate flip-side of not being filled up by small plates is having room for dessert. We tried two of three, and were wowed. Chocolate mousse adorned with candied almonds and roasted peaches ($12) was quickly and happily devoured. Warm Basque cheesecake ($12), made of goat cheese and mascarpone was phenomenal — light, fluffy, tangy, sweet. The dessert agnostic at our table was won over, and raved about it.

Svazas told me his cheesecake was inspired by a similar creation at La Viña, a pintxos bar in San Sebastián, the Basque city that’s an eating mecca for many a foodie, including me.

I don’t know when I’ll next get back to San Sebastián, but until then, I have the pintxos and more at Bar Laurel as a mighty consolation.

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

Lockett’s Kitchen
5536 Manotick Main St., Manotick, 613.491.8899, lockettskitchen.ca
Hours: Tuesday to Friday 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m., Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Sunday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., closed Monday
Prices: mains up to $26
Access: small ramps to front door and dining room

When Colin Lockett was looking to open his restaurant, he sized up more than 20 potential locations, from Orléans to Barrhaven. Although Lockett lives in downtown Ottawa, he wound up launching Lockett’s Kitchen in Manotick in early June.

“I went all over and this is where I decided to stay,” Lockett told me last week.

He is just 37, but has been cooking in Ottawa for most of his adult life. In the 2000s he was in the kitchens of Restaurant E18hteen, Luxe Bistro, Domus Café (where he rose to chef de cuisine) and Social (where he rose to co-head chef). In the last few years, he was the chef at Cafe 327 and then Beechwood Gastropub, both in Ottawa’s east end.

In Manotick, Lockett took over the location of Burgers On Main, which had been empty for a year and a half. He gutted the place, and now there’s a comfy, unpretentious dining room that seats about 50 or so at blocky wood tables, plus a bar for 20 more and a patio for 40 or so. Chalkboards show specials, beers on tap, some of which are local, plus wines, some of which are available in three- and six-ounce pours.

At last the owner of his own place, Lockett has set his sights high, aiming to cook from scratch with the best ingredients that he can get from Ottawa-area farms. Among his suppliers are the farms that higher-end Ottawa restaurants use — Mariposa, Juniper, Two Rivers, O’Brien and Ferme Rêveuse. 

But at the same time, Lockett, in our chat, humbly and candidly noted: “I’m still not doing everything that I want to be doing.” It’s been a challenge staffing his kitchen, he added, because Ottawa-based workers who he could hire lack cars to get to Manotick.

I ate at his restaurant three times in September. I sampled some pleasing, amply portioned and reasonably priced dishes that I would happily order again. But some dishes made me think the leanly staffed kitchen, if not Lockett himself, had lapsed.

As a whole, the restaurant seemed also to still be figuring out how to pitch itself. While his menus read well with dishes that spark interest, some dishes aim higher and are more refined, while others go somewhat lower. Lockett admitted he’s still feeling out what Manotick diners prefer, although he said that overall, his feedback has been excellent. 

Starting with starters, I can mention two that were irresistible each time I ate them — house-made smoky hummus with crisp crostini, plus fries that benefitted from a toss in oniony compound butter and Dijon aioli on the side.  

On another visit, though, we were underwhelmed by a pulled pork egg roll with a crisp wrapper but a forgettable filling. Non-barbecued pork ribs were mediocre. (I have a bias for the smoky, outdoor-cooked real thing.) Also, that night’s “duck wings” oddly turned out to be duck drumsticks, apparently cooked as confit and deep-fried. They weren’t terrible, but duck drumsticks do deserve a better fate. 

On a higher note, we found that Lockett’s fared well with its fish-based main courses. The kitchen has served white fish, both halibut and ling cod, with mussels, in a flavourful broth, and at each visits, that dish was the star among the mains. 

The twist here on fish and chips has been battered  — not really tempura’d, as a server has said — rainbow trout, usually with mashed potatoes and a spunky tartar sauce and slaw.

What to recommend for meat-lovers? At a lunch visit, on the large, pleasant patio, I stole from my friend’s satisfying steak frites, well made with a flavourful flatiron cut. But for dinner a few nights earlier, I had a chewier and too-salty version of that dish.

One dinner visit saw a massive and tender braised short rib land at our table. But it disappointed somewhat because it lacked home-stretch browning and depth of flavour.

In early September, we had a lamb curry that had very little curry punch — Lockett told me that this dish caused him to second-guess himself initially and tone it down — overly so, we thought. He subsequently put the spices back in, he said.

I’ve had a duck “cassoulet” that served shredded confit with white beans and veg. It was OK, although I think more satisfying would have been a full-fledged, big-flavoured cassoulet complete with sausage (although that’s a heartier, more wintery dish), or a more classic duck confit.  

A better mash-up, I thought, was a lunch-time fried chicken “po’ boy” BLT with double-smoked bacon that hit all the right indulgent notes. The mushroom bisque on the side was just fine, too.

Of three desserts that I’ve seen on offer here, I’d rank the apple fritters with salted caramel OK, the lemony carrot cake better and the gluten-free chocolate cake with a red wine blueberry compote best and most interesting. 

Lockett told me that he might yet move from his downtown digs to somewhere closer to Manotick. His restaurant, I think, merits that show of commitment. While the eating at Lockett’s has been uneven in my experience, its potential, given more rigorous execution in the kitchen and perhaps more reined-in, focused menus, is clear too. Optimistically, this work in progress is in striking range of being quite good. 

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

The Fry
280 Elgin St., Unit 3, 613-695-1300, thefry.ca
Open: Sunday to Thursday 5:30 p.m. to midnight, Friday and Saturday 5:30 p.m. to 2 a.m.
Prices: chicken dishes $16.99 to $29.99, sides $6.49 to $16.99
Access: no steps to front door or washrooms

My dining companion had higher hopes for dinner at the Fry than I did.

My fingers were crossed that the fried chicken — the near-singular focus of the restaurant’s menu — would be more crisp, flavourful and better sauced than at my previous visit. My pal, having grown up in Korea, said he wanted food that would make him cry with joy and recall his childhood.

It turned out that my expectations were met, but his were less so. My second dinner at the Fry was better than my first, probably due to better choices. My friend never quite grew teary, but he found the Fry’s dishes OK and, at their best, reminiscent of his youth’s snacks and street food in his homeland, albeit with higher prices.

The Fry opened on Elgin Street more than a month ago, where Tao Asian Kitchen, which lasted less than two years, had been. The new place’s specialty is Korean fried chicken, which in recent years has achieved international fame for thin, shatteringly crisp coatings, succulent meat and saucing that irresistibly unites spicy, sweet and sour.

The other KFC, you could call it, flourishes not only in Korea but beyond, thanks to franchise operations such as Bonchon Chicken and Kyochon, which have outposts in the U.S. and Asia.

The Fry is a Toronto-based Korean fried chicken upstart. In addition to its four GTA locations, there’s now this one on Elgin, bringing full-on Korean fried chicken to Ottawa where perhaps one or two obscure eateries — one that was on Rideau Street has closed — have served it in recent years.

The Elgin Street Fry is a youthful, lounge-like place of 40 or so seats split among tables, the window-facing counter and the bar, which serves fruit-tinged Korean rice wines as a specialty. It isn’t open for lunch but it’s open late — until either midnight or 2 a.m. nightly. When I’ve arrived for early dinners, it’s been packed with a young, mostly Asian clientele.

Meals at the Fry have begun with a bewildering starter on the house — a platter of steaming-hot corn in a sweet cheese sauce. If it was a Korean dish, my Korean friend was nonetheless bewildered. 

After that, we’ve tried myriad variations on fried chicken, which are described too vaguely on the menu.

First, it’s worth noting that a “small” portion of chicken is not that small in terms of price (up to $20) or quantity, while “large” portions, up to $30, are immense. A small order of chicken (roughly half a chicken cut in small pieces) plus a side dish or two should feed two, I think, although a larger party would want to try more than one type of chicken.

But what type? Chicken here is available fried or “crispy,” (which I think means double-fried, for an extra dollar) or boneless, with a range or sauces or garnishes — sweet and sour (simply referred to as “sauce” on the menu), spicy, soy-garlic and green onion.

Summing up my experience, I’d say that I prefer the boneless chicken because the meat was all dark and also juicier. Other fried chicken servings included white meat that was sometimes dry and seemed under-seasoned, plus necks, which were all coating and no meat.  

Sauce-wise, the basic sweet-and-sour red sauce worked for me, as did its spicier cousin. I was less keen on the soy-garlic sauce, which seemed to factor in the powdery component that made the menu’s garlic butter fries odd and off-putting.

You’re better off with standard-variety fries or sweet potato fries at the Fry, although to be honest, my favourite starch was a serving of spicy rice cakes. Spongy and mouth-warming, that side is certainly more outré and not for everybody. But the glowing heat of it made my Korean friend smile and say that the Fry had gotten it right.  

More tepid, but comforting, was the fish cake soup, which placed slices of fish balls, pollock products, cabbage and green onion in a clear, mild broth that seemed less than home-made, but was still tasty.

There are no desserts on the menu here. After plates of fried, spiced, oily food and enough beer or rice wine to wash it down, would you really want some cheesecake?

The Fry doesn’t seem to produce Korean fried chicken at the fetish-worthy levels achieved elsewhere. But the company is first to market in Ottawa, which counts for something. Let’s hope for competition.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

The Fry
280 Elgin St., Unit 3, 613-695-1300, thefry.ca
Open: Sunday to Thursday 5:30 p.m. to midnight, Friday and Saturday 5:30 p.m. to 2 a.m.
Prices: chicken dishes $16.99 to $29.99, sides $6.49 to $16.99
Access: no steps to front door or washrooms

My dining companion had higher hopes for dinner at the Fry than I did.

My fingers were crossed that the fried chicken — the near-singular focus of the restaurant’s menu — would be more crisp, flavourful and better sauced than at my previous visit. My pal, having grown up in Korea, said he wanted food that would make him cry with joy and recall his childhood.

It turned out that my expectations were met, but his were less so. My second dinner at the Fry was better than my first, probably due to better choices. My friend never quite grew teary, but he found the Fry’s dishes OK and, at their best, reminiscent of his youth’s snacks and street food in his homeland, albeit with higher prices.

The Fry opened on Elgin Street more than a month ago, where Tao Asian Kitchen, which lasted less than two years, had been. The new place’s specialty is Korean fried chicken, which in recent years has achieved international fame for thin, shatteringly crisp coatings, succulent meat and saucing that irresistibly unites spicy, sweet and sour.

The other KFC, you could call it, flourishes not only in Korea but beyond, thanks to franchise operations such as Bonchon Chicken and Kyochon, which have outposts in the U.S. and Asia.

The Fry is a Toronto-based Korean fried chicken upstart. In addition to its four GTA locations, there’s now this one on Elgin, bringing full-on Korean fried chicken to Ottawa where perhaps one or two obscure eateries — one that was on Rideau Street has closed — have served it in recent years.

The Elgin Street Fry is a youthful, lounge-like place of 40 or so seats split among tables, the window-facing counter and the bar, which serves fruit-tinged Korean rice wines as a specialty. It isn’t open for lunch but it’s open late — until either midnight or 2 a.m. nightly. When I’ve arrived for early dinners, it’s been packed with a young, mostly Asian clientele.

Meals at the Fry have begun with a bewildering starter on the house — a platter of steaming-hot corn in a sweet cheese sauce. If it was a Korean dish, my Korean friend was nonetheless bewildered. 

Corn and cheese at The Fry

After that, we’ve tried myriad variations on fried chicken, which are described too vaguely on the menu.

First, it’s worth noting that a “small” portion of chicken is not that small in terms of price (up to $20) or quantity, while “large” portions, up to $30, are immense. A small order of chicken (roughly half a chicken cut in small pieces) plus a side dish or two should feed two, I think, although a larger party would want to try more than one type of chicken.

But what type? Chicken here is available fried or “crispy,” (which I think means double-fried, for an extra dollar) or boneless, with a range or sauces or garnishes — sweet and sour (simply referred to as “sauce” on the menu), spicy, soy-garlic and green onion.

Crispy chicken with sauce on the side, pickled daikon at The Fry

Boneless chicken with spicy sauce at The Fry

Soy Garlic wings and fries at The Fry

Green onion chicken with pickled daikon cubes and other small side dishes

Summing up my experience, I’d say that I prefer the boneless chicken because the meat was all dark and also juicier. Other fried chicken servings included white meat that was sometimes dry and seemed under-seasoned, plus necks, which were all coating and no meat.  

Sauce-wise, the basic sweet-and-sour red sauce worked for me, as did its spicier cousin. I was less keen on the soy-garlic sauce, which seemed to factor in the powdery component that made the menu’s garlic butter fries odd and off-putting.

Garlic butter fries at The Fry

You’re better off with standard-variety fries or sweet potato fries at the Fry, although to be honest, my favourite starch was a serving of spicy rice cakes. Spongy and mouth-warming, that side is certainly more outré and not for everybody. But the glowing heat of it made my Korean friend smile and say that the Fry had gotten it right.  

Spicy rice cakes at The Fry

More tepid, but comforting, was the fish cake soup, which placed slices of fish balls, pollock products, cabbage and green onion in a clear, mild broth that seemed less than home-made, but was still tasty.

Fish cake soup at The Fry

There are no desserts on the menu here. After plates of fried, spiced, oily food and enough beer or rice wine to wash it down, would you really want some cheesecake?

The Fry doesn’t seem to produce Korean fried chicken at the fetish-worthy levels achieved elsewhere. But the company is first to market in Ottawa, which counts for something. Let’s hope for competition.

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

Angry Dragonz
300 River Rd., 613-627-0013, angrydragonz.com
Open: 4 to 10 p.m. daily
Prices: most items $8 to $12
Access: steps to front door

Of Ottawa’s 40-plus food trucks, Angry Dragonz, which serves a curated menu of Asian hits, enjoys a convoy-leading reputation.

At streetfoodapp.com/ottawa, it’s chalked up the most “likes” — more than 400, which tops the second-ranked truck by more than 100. That sign of support made me keen to try Angry Dragonz’s bricks-and-mortar edition, which opened in early September on River Road near Limebank Road.

There’s a bit of irony in the fact that Kin Tran, who with his wife Bonnie Wong launched Angry Dragonz during Ottawa’s 2013 food-truck boom, had sold his previous business, the restaurant Koi Asia in Bells Corners, because he wanted to open a food truck.

Bonnie Wong and Kin Tran, who run the food truck and eatery both called Angry Dragonz

Now, husband and wife are back in a restaurant kitchen, serving dinner until 10 p.m. each night after they’ve wound down the truck’s lunch-time activities downtown.

The restaurant’s menu is larger than the truck’s trim collection of starters and rice bowls, adding a half-dozen soups, some sandwiches, tacos and fried rice. But it’s still a modest offering compared to the output of many an Asian eatery, with their multitudes of pho or proteins mixed and matched with sauces. There’s no seafood to be had at Angry Dragonz — if you’re craving shrimp with lobster sauce, look elsewhere.

But what I’ve eaten from the Angry Dragonz kitchen has more than satisfied. Within the menu’s limitations there’s still sufficient variety, quality and flavour for a casual family dinner. Plus, a meal eaten here (or taken out) will leave you happy for the money remaining in your wallet — the menu’s priciest item is $12, with tax included.

My first visit to Angry Dragonz was to pick up food. We brought home well-packed containers of the classics — egg rolls, General Tao’s chicken, hot-and-sour soup, pad Thai, “dragonz” fried rice, which was studded with chicken, barbecue pork and bacon. 

Even after the 15-minute drive home, the open-ended egg rolls were crisp and, happily, there was a good ratio of seasoned pork to vegetable in their filling. After one bite, I felt a surge of nostalgia for the Chinese-Canadian food I ate in my youth, but have rarely eaten since. 

The fried rice, not too oily and flecked with good pieces of meat, prompted the same happy feeling, although you or I could make even better at home. General Tao’s chicken would have been more crisp eaten on site, but it was still meaty and respectably sauced.

Dragonz fried rice from Angry Dragonz

General Tao’s chicken at Angry Dragonz

Thick and almost gloppy hot-and-sour soup would have been improved with some pork slivers among its many components, but it was otherwise savoury and it definitely delivered its namesake flavours. 

Hot and sour soup from Angry Dragonz

Pad Thai had some welcome tamarind-y tanginess. Its chicken was dry, but then again, the ride home perhaps didn’t do it any favours. 

Pad Thai from Angry Dragonz

Last week, we ate at Angry Dragonz with the goal to eat some of its more “contemporary” Asian fusion fare. It was a no-frills experience. The restaurant’s renovated interior is clean and spartan, seating 30 or so at a few tables with either chairs or high stools and a window-side counter. But food is served food-truck-style, in that it’s ordered at the cash, served in take-out containers and eaten with plastic cutlery. You would likely be much more comfortable eating at home.

Two more reasons why you might prefer getting your food to go: Angry Dragonz is unlicensed and the only dessert option is fortune cookies. 

Eating on site, we began very well with chicken, beef and lamb skewers. The meats could have been a bit more tender, but big flavours won us over. The chicken tasted of tangy tamarind while both beef and lamb were cumin-y and chilied, in the Northern Chinese style. But they were also sweeter and less gristly than what I’ve eaten at Northern Chinese restaurants in Ottawa.

Chicken and lamb skewers on the left, assorted skewers rice bowl on the right, at Angry Dragonz

Pork belly buns (called “sliders” here) were immense, brimming with almost twice as much meat and filling as would have been sufficient. The meat was a lot less fatty than anticipated, and its garnishes added sweetness, heat and crunch.

Pork Belly “sliders” at Angry Dragonz

Gearing to solo eaters, Angry Dragonz’s main courses generally layered sauced meat and fresh, gingery, crunchy slaw on top of rice. For the sharers at our table, we were able to have the rice on the side and containers of mains. 

On the authenticity scale, the bulgogi beef and the very peanut-buttery panang chicken, made with pieces of dark meat, were a little wanting but still enjoyable, the panang more than the bulgogi. Beef brisket noodle soup featured a nice, warming broth, chunks of daikon and pieces of tender meat. 

Bulgogi beef at Angry Dragonz

Beef brisket soup at Angry Dragonz

So, a bit of a reality check: The dishes from one of Ottawa’s favourite food trucks are good, but they are not as artisanal as food-truck-fare on TV. Nor do they top the better versions of Korean and Thai items that inspire them.

Still, the pluses of food-truck cuisine do apply, especially for Ottawa residents who live south of the Ottawa International Airport. They should be happy that Angry Dragonz is nearby and quick, making crowd-pleasers that hit palates that crave old-fashioned or more trendy Asian dishes, and at prices that are hard to beat.  

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

Angry Dragonz
300 River Rd., 613-627-0013, angrydragonz.com
Open: 4 to 10 p.m. daily
Prices: most items $8 to $12
Access: steps to front door

Of Ottawa’s 40-plus food trucks, Angry Dragonz, which serves a curated menu of Asian hits, enjoys a convoy-leading reputation.

At streetfoodapp.com/ottawa, it’s chalked up the most “likes” — more than 400, which tops the second-ranked truck by more than 100. That sign of support made me keen to try Angry Dragonz’s bricks-and-mortar edition, which opened in early September on River Road near Limebank Road.

There’s a bit of irony in the fact that Kin Tran, who with his wife Bonnie Wong launched Angry Dragonz during Ottawa’s 2013 food-truck boom, had sold his previous business, the restaurant Koi Asia in Bells Corners, because he wanted to open a food truck.

Now, husband and wife are back in a restaurant kitchen, serving dinner until 10 p.m. each night after they’ve wound down the truck’s lunch-time activities downtown.

The restaurant’s menu is larger than the truck’s trim collection of starters and rice bowls, adding a half-dozen soups, some sandwiches, tacos and fried rice. But it’s still a modest offering compared to the output of many an Asian eatery, with their multitudes of pho or proteins mixed and matched with sauces. There’s no seafood to be had at Angry Dragonz — if you’re craving shrimp with lobster sauce, look elsewhere.

But what I’ve eaten from the Angry Dragonz kitchen has more than satisfied. Within the menu’s limitations there’s still sufficient variety, quality and flavour for a casual family dinner. Plus, a meal eaten here (or taken out) will leave you happy for the money remaining in your wallet — the menu’s priciest item is $12, with tax included.

My first visit to Angry Dragonz was to pick up food. We brought home well-packed containers of the classics — egg rolls, General Tao’s chicken, hot-and-sour soup, pad Thai, “dragonz” fried rice, which was studded with chicken, barbecue pork and bacon. 

Even after the 15-minute drive home, the open-ended egg rolls were crisp and, happily, there was a good ratio of seasoned pork to vegetable in their filling. After one bite, I felt a surge of nostalgia for the Chinese-Canadian food I ate in my youth, but have rarely eaten since. 

The fried rice, not too oily and flecked with good pieces of meat, prompted the same happy feeling, although you or I could make even better at home. General Tao’s chicken would have been more crisp eaten on site, but it was still meaty and respectably sauced.

Thick and almost gloppy hot-and-sour soup would have been improved with some pork slivers among its many components, but it was otherwise savoury and it definitely delivered its namesake flavours. 

Pad Thai had some welcome tamarind-y tanginess. Its chicken was dry, but then again, the ride home perhaps didn’t do it any favours. 

Last week, we ate at Angry Dragonz with the goal to eat some of its more “contemporary” Asian fusion fare. It was a no-frills experience. The restaurant’s renovated interior is clean and spartan, seating 30 or so at a few tables with either chairs or high stools and a window-side counter. But food is served food-truck-style, in that it’s ordered at the cash, served in take-out containers and eaten with plastic cutlery. You would likely be much more comfortable eating at home.

Two more reasons why you might prefer getting your food to go: Angry Dragonz is unlicensed and the only dessert option is fortune cookies. 

Eating on site, we began very well with chicken, beef and lamb skewers. The meats could have been a bit more tender, but big flavours won us over. The chicken tasted of tangy tamarind while both beef and lamb were cumin-y and chilied, in the Northern Chinese style. But they were also sweeter and less gristly than what I’ve eaten at Northern Chinese restaurants in Ottawa.

Pork belly buns (called “sliders” here) were immense, brimming with almost twice as much meat and filling as would have been sufficient. The meat was a lot less fatty than anticipated, and its garnishes added sweetness, heat and crunch.

Gearing to solo eaters, Angry Dragonz’s main courses generally layered sauced meat and fresh, gingery, crunchy slaw on top of rice. For the sharers at our table, we were able to have the rice on the side and containers of mains. 

On the authenticity scale, the bulgogi beef and the very peanut-buttery panang chicken, made with pieces of dark meat, were a little wanting but still enjoyable, the panang more than the bulgogi. Beef brisket noodle soup featured a nice, warming broth, chunks of daikon and pieces of tender meat. 

So, a bit of a reality check: The dishes from one of Ottawa’s favourite food trucks are good, but they are not as artisanal as food-truck-fare on TV. Nor do they top the better versions of Korean and Thai items that inspire them.

Still, the pluses of food-truck cuisine do apply, especially for Ottawa residents who live south of the Ottawa International Airport. They should be happy that Angry Dragonz is nearby and quick, making crowd-pleasers that hit palates that crave old-fashioned or more trendy Asian dishes, and at prices that are hard to beat.  

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

feast + revel (in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market)
325 Dalhousie St., 613-321-1234, ottawa.andaz.hyatt.com
Open: Monday to Friday 6:30 to 10:30 a.m. for breakfast, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch, 5 to 10 p.m. for dinner (till 11 p.m. on Friday); Saturday and Sunday 6:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. for breakfast, 5 to 10 p.m. for dinner (till 11 p.m. on Saturday)
Dinner prices: starters $8 to 16, mains $22 to $37, sharing platters $75 to $140
Access: no steps to front door, washrooms

Some weeks ago, my wife and I missed attending our friends’ wedding in P.E.I. In lieu, we owed them a fine meal when they returned to Ottawa, we said.

When the time came, a little more than a week ago, we pinned our hopes on feast + revel, the restaurant in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market, downtown’s newest boutique hotel and Hyatt Hotel Corp.’s first Andaz-branded posh hotel in Canada.

Given our need to celebrate, we hoped that Feast and Revel (if I can refer to the two-month-old restaurant more conventionally and clearly) would live up to its name. Gladly, it did, for us and the newlyweds, and on my previous dinner visit.

The Andaz Ottawa’s executive chef is Stephen La Salle, formerly at the Albion Rooms in the Novotel Ottawa. The 29-year-old Ottawa native and Algonquin College grad has raised his game, shifting from the distinctive gastropub-style fare at Albion Rooms to flag-waving fine dining with pronounced, high-end Canadian and local features and flourishes at Feast and Revel.

At the Andaz, La Salle’s dishes have also been among the prettiest I’ve seen this year, splashes of shapes and colour on the dark brown tables in Feast and Revel’s attractive, spacious contemporary dining room.

Here, the kitchen is open, the ceiling is high and decorated with an overhead lattice, and the windows onto Dalhousie and York streets, are practically floor-to-ceiling. In the middle of one dining area, a long, central table for 14 reminds that feasting and revelling are on the agenda. 

In such circumstances, service that shines really matters; anything less would deflate the revelry. I’m glad to say that we’ve had two very attentive servers who were personable but not pandering and who made our evenings more enjoyable. 

Don’t expect, though, to party on the cheap at the Andaz. As befits a boutique hotel, prices here are upscale but not outrageous. Examples include cocktails uniformly priced at $15, wines by the glass starting at $12, desserts uniformly priced at $12 and the menu’s ribeye steak, raised at Enright Cattle Co., in Tweed, north of Belleville, for $39. 

There are also deluxe items meant to be shared convivially and en masse — a duck platter for three people for $75, an Enright Cattle Co. roast for six for $95, a dinner of roast chicken from Ferme Rêveuse for eight people for $140. 

So, be prepared to splurge.  

A good way to begin indulging is with bannock, freshly baked, puffy and lightly oiled, with smoked apple butter for spreading. Four buns come for $2, and if you begrudge paying for bread, a bite or two should convince you of the bannock’s value. Be warned though that later in the meal, you might wish that you’d saved your bread to sop up some of La Salle’s splendid sauces and emulsions.

Starters here have been sophisticated creations that ranged from mild to fresh and simple to all-dressed and big-flavoured.

On the more restrained side was a piping hot and smooth bowl of pumpkin soup tinged with Thai red curry ($8), as well as a comely, refined bowl of cured Arctic char in a delicate cucumber broth ($15). A salad of local cherry tomatoes with slices of grilled peach, charred corn, house-made ricotta and birch syrup ($12) popped with bright flavours.

Among the meatier appetizers was a lamb-and-potatoes creation that the menu called poutine, but was almost equally shepherd’s pie. Braised Ontario lamb shoulder sat on a slab of crisp-creamy potato, seared and roasted in stock, topped with whipped curd on a plate slathered with rosemary jus.

Most impressive were La Salle’s treatments of recherché proteins, including a toothsome, umami-rich octopus starter accented by capers and dulse, and veal sweetbreads ($16) in an assertive herbal sauce.

There were small criticisms about two main courses. The vegetarian newlywed’s choice of carrot-and-barley risotto ($22), while lovely to look at, was a bit too sweet, even with contrasting dabs of feta, and the grains could have been more al dente. A massive elk rib ($37) impressed with its sauces (birch jus, sorel) and garnishes (mushroom, salsify), but the rib, cooked sous-vide for 72 hours, while fork-tender in spots was too dry elsewhere.

We did better when we went bigger still. The duck platter ($75), served in a room-temp cast iron pan, contained slices of roasted duck breast, more breast slices smoked and cured like pastrami, duck confit, fried duck wings and a plenty of rich duck liver aioli, plus some contrasting accompaniments — bok choy, crunchy, punchy pickled veg, and lots of bread to plunge into the irresistable, funky aioli. I only wished for some crispness on the confit’s skin, which would have made the platter faultless.

On our next visit, the special was bouillabaise for two ($55), which combined the halibut and mussels from a main course with cured Arctic char from the starter column. It was a pragmatic creation, but also a pleasant one, generous enough with its seafood, potatoes and fennel in a thick tomato-saffron broth to generate leftovers and served with lots of bread and a pot of luxurious, garlicky rouille. 

From the desserts (each $12), chocolate connoisseurs will prefer the tart showcasing Almonte-made, award-winning Hummingbird chocolate. The tart itself downplayed sweetness in favour of richness and subtle notes, but a big plume of ganache and confit orange satisfied sugary cravings.

Lighter was an apple-almond financier cake that was straightforward and lucid in its appeal. More outré was a cube of very moist olive oil sponge cake topped with a thin layer of beets, with a quenelle of pistachio gelato from fellow ByWard Market business Sash Gelato Café and a tangy sheep’s-yogurt-white-chocolate smear.

The knock against some hotel restaurants is that they can be perfunctory, bland, impersonal, over-priced traps for guests too busy or too timid to venture beyond the lobby. Happily, Feast and Revel is none of these things. It aims high and succeeds, pampering discerning diners whether they’ve travelled from near or far for the treats from La Salle’s kitchen.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

feast + revel (in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market)
325 Dalhousie St., 613-321-1234, ottawa.andaz.hyatt.com
Open: Monday to Friday 6:30 to 10:30 a.m. for breakfast, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch, 5 to 10 p.m. for dinner (till 11 p.m. on Friday); Saturday and Sunday 6:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. for breakfast, 5 to 10 p.m. for dinner (till 11 p.m. on Saturday)
Dinner prices: starters $8 to 16, mains $22 to $37, sharing platters $75 to $140
Access: no steps to front door, washrooms

Some weeks ago, my wife and I missed attending our friends’ wedding in P.E.I. In lieu, we owed them a fine meal when they returned to Ottawa, we said.

When the time came, a little more than a week ago, we pinned our hopes on feast + revel, the restaurant in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market, downtown’s newest boutique hotel and Hyatt Hotel Corp.’s first Andaz-branded posh hotel in Canada.

Given our need to celebrate, we hoped that Feast and Revel (if I can refer to the two-month-old restaurant more conventionally and clearly) would live up to its name. Gladly, it did, for us and the newlyweds, and on my previous dinner visit.

The Andaz Ottawa’s executive chef is Stephen La Salle, formerly at the Albion Rooms in the Novotel Ottawa. The 29-year-old Ottawa native and Algonquin College grad has raised his game, shifting from the distinctive gastropub-style fare at Albion Rooms to flag-waving fine dining with pronounced, high-end Canadian and local features and flourishes at Feast and Revel.

At the Andaz, La Salle’s dishes have also been among the prettiest I’ve seen this year, splashes of shapes and colour on the dark brown tables in Feast and Revel’s attractive, spacious contemporary dining room.

Here, the kitchen is open, the ceiling is high and decorated with an overhead lattice, and the windows onto Dalhousie and York streets, are practically floor-to-ceiling. In the middle of one dining area, a long, central table for 14 reminds that feasting and revelling are on the agenda. 

In such circumstances, service that shines really matters; anything less would deflate the revelry. I’m glad to say that we’ve had two very attentive servers who were personable but not pandering and who made our evenings more enjoyable. 

Don’t expect, though, to party on the cheap at the Andaz. As befits a boutique hotel, prices here are upscale but not outrageous. Examples include cocktails uniformly priced at $15, wines by the glass starting at $12, desserts uniformly priced at $12 and the menu’s ribeye steak, raised at Enright Cattle Co., in Tweed, north of Belleville, for $39. 

There are also deluxe items meant to be shared convivially and en masse — a duck platter for three people for $75, an Enright Cattle Co. roast for six for $95, a dinner of roast chicken from Ferme Rêveuse for eight people for $140. 

So, be prepared to splurge.  

A good way to begin indulging is with bannock, freshly baked, puffy and lightly oiled, with smoked apple butter for spreading. Four buns come for $2, and if you begrudge paying for bread, a bite or two should convince you of the bannock’s value. Be warned though that later in the meal, you might wish that you’d saved your bread to sop up some of La Salle’s splendid sauces and emulsions.

Bannock at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Starters here have been sophisticated creations that ranged from mild to fresh and simple to all-dressed and big-flavoured.

On the more restrained side was a piping hot and smooth bowl of pumpkin soup tinged with Thai red curry ($8), as well as a comely, refined bowl of cured Arctic char in a delicate cucumber broth ($15). A salad of local cherry tomatoes with slices of grilled peach, charred corn, house-made ricotta and birch syrup ($12) popped with bright flavours.

Pumpkin and red curry soup at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Cured Arctic char at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Tomato peach salad at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Among the meatier appetizers was a lamb-and-potatoes creation that the menu called poutine, but was almost equally shepherd’s pie. Braised Ontario lamb shoulder sat on a slab of crisp-creamy potato, seared and roasted in stock, topped with whipped curd on a plate slathered with rosemary jus.

Lamb poutine at Feast and Revel in the new Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Most impressive were La Salle’s treatments of recherché proteins, including a toothsome, umami-rich octopus starter accented by capers and dulse, and veal sweetbreads ($16) in an assertive herbal sauce.

Octopus at Feast and Revel in the new Andaz Ottawa hotel in the Byward Market. 

Sweetbreads at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

There were small criticisms about two main courses. The vegetarian newlywed’s choice of carrot-and-barley risotto ($22), while lovely to look at, was a bit too sweet, even with contrasting dabs of feta, and the grains could have been more al dente. A massive elk rib ($37) impressed with its sauces (birch jus, sorel) and garnishes (mushroom, salsify), but the rib, cooked sous-vide for 72 hours, while fork-tender in spots was too dry elsewhere.

Carrots and barley risotto at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Elk rib at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

We did better when we went bigger still. The duck platter ($75), served in a room-temp cast iron pan, contained slices of roasted duck breast, more breast slices smoked and cured like pastrami, duck confit, fried duck wings and a plenty of rich duck liver aioli, plus some contrasting accompaniments — bok choy, crunchy, punchy pickled veg, and lots of bread to plunge into the irresistable, funky aioli. I only wished for some crispness on the confit’s skin, which would have made the platter faultless.

Duck sampling at feast + revel within the new Andaz Ottawa hotel in the Byward Market. 

On our next visit, the special was bouillabaise for two ($55), which combined the halibut and mussels from a main course with cured Arctic char from the starter column. It was a pragmatic creation, but also a pleasant one, generous enough with its seafood, potatoes and fennel in a thick tomato-saffron broth to generate leftovers and served with lots of bread and a pot of luxurious, garlicky rouille. 

Halibut, cured Arctic char and mussels bouillabaisse at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Accompaniments for bouillabaisse at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

From the desserts (each $12), chocolate connoisseurs will prefer the tart showcasing Almonte-made, award-winning Hummingbird chocolate. The tart itself downplayed sweetness in favour of richness and subtle notes, but a big plume of ganache and confit orange satisfied sugary cravings.

Hummingbird chocolate tart with chocolate ganache and confit orange at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Lighter was an apple-almond financier cake that was straightforward and lucid in its appeal. More outré was a cube of very moist olive oil sponge cake topped with a thin layer of beets, with a quenelle of pistachio gelato from fellow ByWard Market business Sash Gelato Café and a tangy sheep’s-yogurt-white-chocolate smear.

Apple almond financier dessert at Feast + Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

Olive oil sponge cake topped with beets, Sash pistachio gelato, sheep’s yogurt, white chocolate, candied nuts at Feast and Revel in the Andaz Ottawa Byward Market

The knock against some hotel restaurants is that they can be perfunctory, bland, impersonal, over-priced traps for guests too busy or too timid to venture beyond the lobby. Happily, Feast and Revel is none of these things. It aims high and succeeds, pampering discerning diners whether they’ve travelled from near or far for the treats from La Salle’s kitchen.

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

Grow Your Roots Café
220 Terence Matthews Cres., 613-271-3777, growyourrootscafe.com
Open: Tuesday to Friday 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., Weekends 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., closed Monday
Prices: salads $7 to $12; soup-and-sandwich combos $14
Access: no steps to front door

How can April be the cruelest month when there’s November?

After all, what’s there to like about flu shots, days that grow shorter, below-zero mornings and, this year, a deeply disturbing U.S. election campaign? (Actually, I’m fine with flu shots.)

Lately, we’ve needed something restorative, maybe even virtuous. We found it in Kanata South, tucked among the office parks on Terence Matthews Crescent, at a three-month-old vegan, and often gluten-free, eatery and caterer called Grow Your Roots Café. 

Open basically for breakfasts, lunches and morning and afternoon snacks, the café is a bright, quaint place that seats 25 or so on metal seats, surrounded by big windows and a mirrored wall. It’s hard to stop gazing at a showcase of tempting baked goods. When I’ve visited, the café’s clientele and staff have been almost exclusively women.

Mel Boudens, a 26-year-old who embraced veganism six years ago, opened Grow Your Roots in early August, building upon the lessons of running a vegan food stand in 2014 at the Carp Farmers Market.

“I really do believe that my purpose on this earth is to advocate a cruelty-free, healthy way of living that doesn’t harm the planet,” Boudens wrote on her business’s blog. “Grow Your Roots is my way of doing that.”

In this season of Trump, cruelty-free eating that doesn’t harm the planet sounded great to me.

And yet, ethical considerations aside, Grow Your Roots has done a good job of meatlessly satiating this more-often carnivorous gourmand.

First, its servings were generous. Second, there were deep-fried indulgences. Beer-battered avocado wedges with cilantro-lime dip ($9) — a hit at the Carp Farmers’ Market, Bouden wrote — were a smash when we had them. Crisp “punchy” fries tossed in sea salt, lemon zest and fresh parsley and served with lemon garlic mayo ($6.50) also went a long way to alleviating any feelings of deprivation. 

A third snack, kale artichoke dip with house-made tortilla chips ($9), was nearly as good. While the chips were exemplary, the dip was a little heavy on the kale — and I like kale, but more so in the café’s kale salad ($8) with apples, walnuts and red onion. I also liked the cafe’s maple vinaigrette, which was made in-house, as are all sauces and dressings.

Beyond those snacks and salads, there are sandwiches and pressed paninis, made with focaccia from Nat’s Bread Company or gluten-free bread from Strawberry Blonde Bakery.

Some sandwiches feature with faux “cheeses” made of nuts and other meatless stand-ins for meat. The panini called Mel’s Fav ($14 with fries, soup or salad) is also my fave, with its contrasts of spinach, sliced apple and caramelized onions, although its cashew “mozzarella” appealed less to me. 

Among other sandwiches, I’d rank, in descending order, the marinated tofu burger, the GYR burger made with textured vegetable protein, and then the mashed chickpea sandwich, made and finally the tempeh-bacon “TLT” sandwich that asked too much of tempeh, which was simply salty, smoked and crisp.

Friday’s sspecials here have included riffs on pub favourites that elsewhere are meaty or at least dairy-dependent. Panko-crumbed Mac and Cheese, made with a blend of soy and cashew standing in for cheese, was not truly cheesy, but it was still tasty and just fine texturally. I thought a little less of the vegan chili. I honestly wish that I’d tried the “fish” (actually beer-battered, kelp- and seaweed-enhanced tofu) and chips, but I was craving one of the paninis.

While the café isn’t licensed, the beverage options here are myriad. But I’ve twice passed over coffees, smoothies, bottled kombuchas and the like for “golden milk” — a froth of the non-dairy milk of my choice with turmeric (above all), warm spices such as cardamom, maple syrup and more. GYR claims that the beverage boosts the immune system, and I guess it’s worked. The only thing that’s sickened me recently has been crowds chanting “Build the wall!” or “Lock her up!”

I digress. Better to end on sweet notes, meaning the baked goods in that showcase. If I’ve been mixed in my enthusiasms for the café’s sandwiches and hot lunches, I can’t fault any of the homey, yet somehow vegan, desserts that I’ve brought home and tried.

Coffee cake, Nanaimo bars and chocolate coconut truffles were first-rate — good enough to make you forget every bad thing about November.

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

Grow Your Roots Café
220 Terence Matthews Cres., 613-271-3777, growyourrootscafe.com
Open: Tuesday to Friday 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., Weekends 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., closed Monday
Prices: salads $7 to $12; soup-and-sandwich combos $14
Access: wheelchair-accessible

How can April be the cruelest month when there’s November?

After all, what’s there to like about flu shots, days that grow shorter, below-zero mornings and, this year, a deeply disturbing U.S. election campaign? (Actually, I’m fine with flu shots.)

Lately, we’ve needed something restorative, maybe even virtuous. We found it in Kanata South, tucked among the office parks on Terence Matthews Crescent, at a three-month-old vegan, and often gluten-free, eatery and caterer called Grow Your Roots Café. 

Open basically for breakfasts, lunches and morning and afternoon snacks, the café is a bright, quaint place that seats 25 or so on metal seats, surrounded by big windows and a mirrored wall. It’s hard to stop gazing at a showcase of tempting baked goods. When I’ve visited, the café’s clientele and staff have been almost exclusively women.

Mel Boudens, a 26-year-old who embraced veganism six years ago, opened Grow Your Roots in early August, building upon the lessons of running a vegan food stand in 2014 at the Carp Farmers Market.

“I really do believe that my purpose on this earth is to advocate a cruelty-free, healthy way of living that doesn’t harm the planet,” Boudens wrote on her business’s blog. “Grow Your Roots is my way of doing that.”

In this season of Trump, cruelty-free eating that doesn’t harm the planet sounded great to me.

And yet, ethical considerations aside, Grow Your Roots has done a good job of meatlessly satiating this more-often carnivorous gourmand.

First, its servings were generous. Second, there were deep-fried indulgences. Beer-battered avocado wedges with cilantro-lime dip ($9) — a hit at the Carp Farmers’ Market, Boudens wrote — were a smash when we had them. Crisp “punchy” fries tossed in sea salt, lemon zest and fresh parsley and served with lemon garlic mayo ($6.50) also went a long way to alleviating any feelings of deprivation. 

Famous avos (deep-fried avocados) at Grow Your Roots

Mel’s Fav panini with punchy fries at Grow Your Roots

A third snack, kale artichoke dip with house-made tortilla chips ($9), was nearly as good. While the chips were exemplary, the dip was a little heavy on the kale — and I like kale, but more so in the café’s kale salad ($8) with apples, walnuts and red onion. I also liked the cafe’s maple vinaigrette, which was made in-house, as are all sauces and dressings.

Kale artichoke dip with home made corn chips at Grow Your Roots 

Kale salad with maple vinaigrette at Grow Your Roots 

Beyond those snacks and salads, there are sandwiches and pressed paninis, made with focaccia from Nat’s Bread Company or gluten-free bread from Strawberry Blonde Bakery.

Some sandwiches feature with faux “cheeses” made of nuts and other meatless stand-ins for meat. The panini called Mel’s Fav ($14 with fries, soup or salad) is also my fave, with its contrasts of spinach, sliced apple and caramelized onions, although its cashew “mozzarella” appealed less to me. 

Among other sandwiches, I’d rank, in descending order, the marinated tofu burger, the GYR burger made with textured vegetable protein, and then the mashed chickpea sandwich, made and finally the tempeh-bacon “TLT” sandwich that asked too much of tempeh, which was simply salty, smoked and crisp.

Barbecue tofu sandwich with side salad at Grow Your Roots cafe

GYR veggie burger with fries at Grow Your Roots 

Not really a BLT sandwich with miso mushroom soup at Grow Your Roots 

Friday’s sspecials here have included riffs on pub favourites that elsewhere are meaty or at least dairy-dependent. Panko-crumbed Mac and Cheese, made with a blend of soy and cashew standing in for cheese, was not truly cheesy, but it was still tasty and just fine texturally. I thought a little less of the vegan chili. I honestly wish that I’d tried the “fish” (actually beer-battered, kelp- and seaweed-enhanced tofu) and chips, but I was craving one of the paninis.

Mac and cheese with fried kale at Grow Your Roots

Chili with mashed chickpea sandwich at Grow Your Roots 

While the café isn’t licensed, the beverage options here are myriad. But I’ve twice passed over coffees, smoothies, bottled kombuchas and the like for “golden milk” — a froth of the non-dairy milk of my choice with turmeric (above all), warm spices such as cardamom, maple syrup and more. GYR claims that the beverage boosts the immune system, and I guess it’s worked. The only thing that’s sickened me recently has been crowds chanting “Build the wall!” or “Lock her up!”

Golden milk at Grow Your Roots café

I digress. Better to end on sweet notes, meaning the baked goods in that showcase. If I’ve been mixed in my enthusiasms for the café’s sandwiches and hot lunches, I can’t fault any of the homey, yet somehow vegan, desserts that I’ve brought home and tried.

Coffee cake, Nanaimo bars and chocolate coconut truffles were first-rate — good enough to make you forget every bad thing about November.

Coffee cake, chocolate coconut truffle and Naniamo bar at Grow Your Roots café

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

Indian Punjabi Clay Oven
4055 Carling Ave., 613- 963-0625, indianclayoven.ca
Open: Monday to Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., 5 to 9:30 p.m., Saturday 5 to 9:30 p.m., Sunday 5 to 9 p.m.
Prices: main dishes $12.99 to $16.99
Access: no steps to front door or washrooms

The restaurant-heavy strip mall on Carling Avenue just east of March Road has seen plenty of turnover through the years.

The Iranian eatery that I liked closed, and was replaced by an Afghan place that I like. Last year, a place that served mediocre ramen and noodles was here for a few months, but now its successor serves pho. The mall’s Thai place has changed names, if not hands. 

But the Indian Punjabi Clay Oven has had staying power. The family-run restaurant is the mall’s oldest eatery and has been in business for a dozen years, chef and owner S.S. Johal told me last week. In fragmented English, he added that he’d been cooking for almost another two decades before he opened his own restaurant.

This fall and in the past, I’ve tasted sturdily made, flavourful dishes from Johal — it’s just him and one other cook in the kitchen — that justify his eatery’s longevity, and I’ve met regulars who’ve vouched for dishes that keep them coming back.  

Many come for well-packed take-out, preferring the comforts of home to the strip-mall resto’s ambiances. The Clay Oven’s front dining room’s walls mimic a village courtyard, although the low-level lighting and high ceilings with duct work mar the illusion. Further back, including the cash area, is a smaller, more spartan room of four tables. Johal says his Indian customers like the no-frills space for chatting and eating.

Casually attired service has been polite and attentive.

As per Johal’s Punjabi origins, his menu here stays within the range of Northern Indian-inspired dishes that typified Indian food when it emigrated to the United Kingdom and then North America. So, don’t come here for dosas or other South Indian specialties or any of the newer-to-Ottawa, Indo-Chinese Hakka dishes that have been showing up elsewhere. Instead, expect well-made items from the tandoor oven that gives the restaurant its name, as well as rich, heartily flavoured curries.

Among the Clay Oven’s starters, the mixed vegetable pakoras (chopped spinach, onion and cauliflower in a well-seasoned chickpea batter) were crisp, un-oily standouts. I tend to splurge on naan, and have enjoyed the garlicky and kashmiri versions. The latter flatbread, stuffed with chicken and bits of dried fruit, was novel to me. 

Mixed vegetable pakoras at Indian Punjabi Clay Oven restaurant in Kanata

Garlic naan at Indian Punjabi Clay Oven restaurant.

Also from the tandoor, we’ve tried and enjoyed the tandoori sampler, with its mix of chicken pieces, boneless chicken, minced beef kabobs and shrimps.  

Tandoori platter at Indian Punjabi Clay Oven in Kanata

The Clay Oven’s curries that we’ve sampled, in house and at home, have typically hit the mark. They’ve tasted fresh (Johal has shown me a pan of toasted spices from his oven) and the flavours and textures have won us over, especially when we’ve asked for the food to be more spice-forward. At the higher end, a serving chicken vindaloo was sharp and assertive, but otherwise, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed the balanced, warming glow of medium-spiced beef bhuna and chicken jalfrezi. 

Bhindi Gosht, with its tender lamb pieces cooked with fresh okra, green peppers and onions, was an earthy, satisfying choice.

Bindi Gosht from Indian Punjabi Clay Oven

Butter chicken was thoroughly creamy and not overly tomatoe-y, with some complexity to its spicing and sufficient chunks of white meat. Even more rich was Johal’s version of baigan bharta, in which eggplant and onion were submerged in a thick, creamy sauce.

Butter chicken and chicken Jalfrezi at Indian Punjabi Clay Oven.

Other vegetable dishes — the perky cauliflower of alu gobhi, the simmered lentils of dal makni, chana masala’s chickpeas — were distinctively gravied and satisfying.

Sag paneer had mouth-feeling flavours, although my preference is for this dish’s spinach to be less manipulated and more intact. On one occasion here, the spinach was blended to the verge of glue-iness.

Sag paneer at Indian Punjabi Clay Oven restaurant. 

Basmati rice has been sufficiently fluffy and distinctly grained. Shrimp biryani, while a touch oily and teeming with wee, shy-of-flavour shrimp as well as the usual frozen vegetables, was redeemed by its spices.

Desserts here are made in-house. Gulab jamun (deep-fried and then syruped dough balls) were surprisingly light. 

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

Indian Punjabi Clay Oven
4055 Carling Ave., 613- 963-0625, indianclayoven.ca
Open: Monday to Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., 5 to 9:30 p.m., Saturday 5 to 9:30 p.m., Sunday 5 to 9 p.m.
Prices: main dishes $12.99 to $16.99
Access: no steps to front door or washrooms

The restaurant-heavy strip mall on Carling Avenue just east of March Road has seen plenty of turnover through the years.

The Iranian eatery that I liked closed, and was replaced by an Afghan place that I like. Last year, a place that served mediocre ramen and noodles was here for a few months, but now its successor serves pho. The mall’s Thai place has changed names, if not hands. 

But the Indian Punjabi Clay Oven has had staying power. The family-run restaurant is the mall’s oldest eatery and has been in business for a dozen years, chef and owner S.S. Johal told me last week. In fragmented English, he added that he’d been cooking for almost another two decades before he opened his own restaurant.

This fall and in the past, I’ve tasted sturdily made, flavourful dishes from Johal — it’s just him and one other cook in the kitchen — that justify his eatery’s longevity, and I’ve met regulars who’ve vouched for dishes that keep them coming back.  

Many come for well-packed take-out, preferring the comforts of home to the strip-mall resto’s ambiances. The Clay Oven’s front dining room’s walls mimic a village courtyard, although the low-level lighting and high ceilings with duct work mar the illusion. Further back, including the cash area, is a smaller, more spartan room of four tables. Johal says his Indian customers like the no-frills space for chatting and eating.

Casually attired service has been polite and attentive.

As per Johal’s Punjabi origins, his menu here stays within the range of Northern Indian-inspired dishes that typified Indian food when it emigrated to the United Kingdom and then North America. So, don’t come here for dosas or other South Indian specialties or any of the newer-to-Ottawa, Indo-Chinese Hakka dishes that have been showing up elsewhere. Instead, expect well-made items from the tandoor oven that gives the restaurant its name, as well as rich, heartily flavoured curries.

Among the Clay Oven’s starters, the mixed vegetable pakoras (chopped spinach, onion and cauliflower in a well-seasoned chickpea batter) were crisp, un-oily standouts. I tend to splurge on naan, and have enjoyed the garlicky and kashmiri versions. The latter flatbread, stuffed with chicken and bits of dried fruit, was novel to me. 

Also from the tandoor, we’ve tried and enjoyed the tandoori sampler, with its mix of chicken pieces, boneless chicken, minced beef kabobs and shrimps.  

The Clay Oven’s curries that we’ve sampled, in house and at home, have typically hit the mark. They’ve tasted fresh (Johal has shown me a pan of toasted spices from his oven) and the flavours and textures have won us over, especially when we’ve asked for the food to be more spice-forward. At the higher end, a serving chicken vindaloo was sharp and assertive, but otherwise, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed the balanced, warming glow of medium-spiced beef bhuna and chicken jalfrezi. 

Bhindi Gosht, with its tender lamb pieces cooked with fresh okra, green peppers and onions, was an earthy, satisfying choice.

Butter chicken was thoroughly creamy and not overly tomatoe-y, with some complexity to its spicing and sufficient chunks of white meat. Even more rich was Johal’s version of baigan bharta, in which eggplant and onion were submerged in a thick, creamy sauce.

Other vegetable dishes — the perky cauliflower of alu gobhi, the simmered lentils of dal makni, chana masala’s chickpeas — were distinctively gravied and satisfying.

Sag paneer had mouth-feeling flavours, although my preference is for this dish’s spinach to be less manipulated and more intact. On one occasion here, the spinach was blended to the verge of glue-iness.

Basmati rice has been sufficiently fluffy and distinctly grained. Shrimp biryani, while a touch oily and teeming with wee, shy-of-flavour shrimp as well as the usual frozen vegetables, was redeemed by its spices.

Desserts here are made in-house. Gulab jamun (deep-fried and then syruped dough balls) were surprisingly light. 

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

The Whalesbone Elgin
231 Elgin St., 613-505-4300, whalesbone.com
Open: Weekday lunches 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., dinner Sunday to Wednesday 5 to 11 p.m., Thursday to Saturday, 5 to midnight
Prices: appetizers $14 to $21, mains $30 to $80
Access: wheelchair-accessible front door and washroom

For the innumerable chefs and eaters who cook and eat by the rule that cheese and seafood should not mix and mingle, I have a suggestion. Try the ling cod in padano brodo at the Whalesbone Elgin and get back to me.

At a recent dinner where every dish elicited appreciative oohs and aahs, that bowlful of deliciousness was, for some of us, a by-a-nose favourite.

Yes, its slab of clean-flavoured white fish was pristinely prepared. Putting it over the top, however, were the bowl’s other items  — not its herbs and vegetables, but rather plump manila clams, chunks of double-smoked bacon and that ultra-savoury fish-stock-meets-cheese-rind broth. Together, they sang a medley of umami’s greatest hits, and a feeding frenzy ensued at the table, as hands plunged bread into the bowl to sop up that broth.   

The interior of the new Whalesbone on Elgin Street

At the entrance are fridges holding take-home products and a chalkboard listing the types of brown-bag lunch fare that the Kent Street location had become known for. The kitchen is visible through industrial windows and through the air, retro tunes — we’ve heard Johnny Cash, Marvin Gaye and hard-bopping jazz — waft.

As for the menu at the new Whalesbone, with the exception of a bit of overlap, it diverges from what its siblings offer. Most notably, Radford has branched out beyond seafoood to offer beef and poultry dishes.

Among our appetizers at dinner was Radford’s astutely seasoned beef tartare ($18), which delivered the classic, punchy flavours and contrasts that raw-meat fans expect. Another carnivore’s treat and spreadable indulgence was the roasted marrow bone ($16). It was fine, but the tartare is the one I prefer. 

But it’s not as if these beefy options have replaced the eminent fish and seafood starters. If I had to have just one starter, it would be the tuna sashimi ($21), in which some of the usual raw-fish suspects — olive oil, wasabi, green onion, salt, lime juice — tasted that much bigger and better than at other restaurants.

That’s not to disrespect the Whalesbone clam chowder ($14), which similarly seemed by-the-book on the menu, but tasted like a rich, vividly flavoured exemplar. (A less chunky, but still admirable clam chowder is available for take-home at the front of the restaurant.)

In addition to that ling cod dish that still makes me reflexively smack my lips, we tried two other mains from the seven-choice list. Eschewing salmon, octopus and lobster, we chose the striploin steak, dry-aged in house for about 65 days ($42) and the more composed whole Cornish hen dish ($32).

With the steak, Radford again made the case for classic flavours and minimal manipulation. Nicely crusted but medium rare inside, the steak thrummed with the funky, nutty notes that dry-aging layers on forthright beefy goodness. A dusting of fried garlic, chives and salt, plus chimichurri on the side added waves of secondary flavour.

The Cornish hen was another lip-smacker, given a spicy “piri-piri” overlay, but balanced by a tangy buttermilk dressing. The bird’s meat was succulent, and its skin was crisp. When I spoke to Radford last week, he gave a shout-out to his deluxe, high-heat broiler, which made the skin of fish and fowl so crisp and seared the steaks so impeccably.

If Radford’s starters and mains wowed, then his desserts were meant more to comfort. I’ve only tried one, in part because those meal-enders are $12 a pop and I thought something fancier should be my reward for paying that much. That said, the made-to-order apple crisp, piping hot in its cast-iron pan, was excellent and very much shareable.

My lunch visit to Whalesbone Elgin generated a few observations.

First, plates landed with dizzying speed — it was as if the kitchen was trying to keep pace with Elgin’s shawarma joints, but with $20-plus items. 

A slab of salmon on salad ($23), while speedily made and simple, was in keeping with the high standards at dinner. The succulent, but crisp-skinned fish could not have been better seasoned or cooked, and the bed of salad was fresh and dressed so that sweet, acid, bright and herbal notes popped in turn.

The lobster BLT was the one dish at Whalesbone Elgin that made me grumble. It might be unfair of me to have visions of East Coast lobster rolls in my mind, but when the lobster-salad-based sandwich arrived at my table, it struck me as tasty, yes, but clearly short on lobster. Also, the fries on the plate could have been better, especially for $25.

Registering as overpriced, that one dish burst the Whalesbone bubble. For all of the eatery’s relaxed mien, it’s still a high-stakes operation, as per its prices. If a dish such as the lobster BLT disappoints, then for me, the metal chairs seem that much harder, and the speedy service seems more cursory than efficient.

Fortunately, that disappointment was a one-off. Every other dish, especially at dinner, lived up to the promise and reputation of the Whalesbone brand, which now has a flagship location to be proud of.

phum@postmedia.com

twitter.com/peterhum

The Whalesbone Elgin
231 Elgin St., 613-505-4300, whalesbone.com
Open: Weekday lunches 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., dinner Sunday to Wednesday 5 to 11 p.m., Thursday to Saturday, 5 to midnight
Prices: appetizers $14 to $21, mains $30 to $80
Access: wheelchair-accessible front door and washroom

For the innumerable chefs and eaters who cook and eat by the rule that cheese and seafood should not mix and mingle, I have a suggestion. Try the ling cod in padano brodo at the Whalesbone Elgin and get back to me.

At a recent dinner where every dish elicited appreciative oohs and aahs, that bowlful of deliciousness was, for some of us, a by-a-nose favourite.

Yes, its slab of clean-flavoured white fish was pristinely prepared. Putting it over the top, however, were the bowl’s other items  — not its herbs and vegetables but, rather, plump manila clams, chunks of double-smoked bacon and that ultra-savoury fish-stock-meets-cheese-rind broth. Together, they sang a medley of umami’s greatest hits, and a feeding frenzy ensued at the table, as hands plunged bread into the bowl to sop up that broth.   

Ling cod with clams and bacon in padano brodo at Whalesbone Elgin

We expected nothing less than a peak, lusty dining experience from Whalesbone Elgin and its chef, Michael Radford.

First of all, lofty prices such as $35 for the ling cod main course raised expectations to practically bliss-level. Also, since the first of Ottawa’s Whalesbone businesses opened in June 2005, those eateries have become synonymous with hip, highest-end, sustainable seafood pleasures in Ottawa.

For the nearly five-month-old Elgin Street outpost, the original Bank Street Oyster House, the Elmdale Tavern in Hintonburg and the Kent Street store — which is to resume its brown bag lunches in a few weeks — are very tough acts to follow.

However, since it opened in early July, the Whalesbone Elgin has distinguished with its larger scale and distinct offerings.

With seating for more than 100, including 24 seats at its long bar, Whalesbone Elgin is about three times the size of the quaint, cosy Whalesbone Bank. Its deep, narrow space is dark, rustic and woody, with barn board, mirrors and stags’ heads on the walls.

At the entrance are fridges holding take-home products and a chalkboard listing the types of brown-bag lunch fare that the Kent Street location had become known for. The kitchen is visible through industrial windows and through the air, retro tunes — we’ve heard Johnny Cash, Marvin Gaye and hard-bopping jazz — waft.

As for the menu at the new Whalesbone, with the exception of a bit of overlap, it diverges from what its siblings offer. Most notably, Radford has branched out beyond seafoood to offer beef and poultry dishes.

Among our appetizers at dinner was Radford’s astutely seasoned beef tartare ($18), which delivered the classic, punchy flavours and contrasts that raw-meat fans expect. Another carnivore’s treat and spreadable indulgence was the roasted marrow bone ($16). It was fine, but the tartare is the one I prefer. 

Beef tartare with truffle oil, toasted brioche at Whalesbone Elgin

Bone marrow with parsley and salad at Whalesbone Elgin

But it’s not as if these beefy options have replaced the eminent fish and seafood starters. If I had to have just one starter, it would be the tuna sashimi ($21), in which some of the usual raw-fish suspects — olive oil, wasabi, green onion, salt, lime juice — tasted that much bigger and better than at other restaurants.

Tuna sashimi at Whalesbone Elgin

That’s not to disrespect the Whalesbone clam chowder ($14), which similarly seemed by-the-book on the menu, but tasted like a rich, vividly flavoured exemplar. (A less chunky, but still admirable clam chowder is available for take-home at the front of the restaurant.)

Clam chowder at Whalesbone Elgin

In addition to that ling cod dish that still makes me reflexively smack my lips, we tried two other mains from the seven-choice list. Eschewing salmon, octopus and lobster, we chose the striploin steak, dry-aged in house for about 65 days ($42) and the more composed whole Cornish hen dish ($32).

With the steak, Radford again made the case for classic flavours and minimal manipulation. Nicely crusted but medium rare inside, the steak thrummed with the funky, nutty notes that dry-aging layers on forthright beefy goodness. A dusting of fried garlic, chives and salt, plus chimichurri on the side added waves of secondary flavour.

Dry-aged striploin steak at Whalesbone Elgin

The Cornish hen was another lip-smacker, given a spicy “piri-piri” overlay, but balanced by a tangy buttermilk dressing. The bird’s meat was succulent, and its skin was crisp. When I spoke to Radford last week, he gave a shout-out to his deluxe, high-heat broiler, which made the skin of fish and fowl so crisp and seared the steaks so impeccably. 

Piri-piri Cornish hen at Whalesbone Elgin

If Radford’s starters and mains wowed, then his desserts were meant more to comfort. I’ve only tried one, in part because those meal-enders are $12 a pop and I thought something fancier should be my reward for paying that much. That said, the made-to-order apple crisp, piping hot in its cast-iron pan, was excellent and very much shareable.

Apple crisp at Whalesbone Elgin

My lunch visit to Whalesbone Elgin generated a few observations.

First, plates landed with dizzying speed — it was as if the kitchen was trying to keep pace with Elgin’s shawarma joints, but with $20-plus items. 

A slab of salmon on salad ($23), while speedily made and simple, was in keeping with the high standards at dinner. The succulent, but crisp-skinned fish could not have been better seasoned or cooked, and the bed of salad was fresh and dressed so that sweet, acid, bright and herbal notes popped in turn.

Salmon a la plancha and salad at Whalesbone Elgin

The lobster BLT was the one dish at Whalesbone Elgin that made me grumble. It might be unfair of me to have visions of East Coast lobster rolls in my mind, but when the lobster-salad-based sandwich arrived at my table, it struck me as tasty, yes, but clearly short on lobster. Also, the fries on the plate could have been better, especially for $25.

Lobster BLT and fries and salad at Whalesbone Elgin

Registering as overpriced, that one dish burst the Whalesbone bubble. For all of the eatery’s relaxed mien, it’s still a high-stakes operation, as per its prices. If a dish such as the lobster BLT disappoints, then for me, the metal chairs seem that much harder, and the speedy service seems more cursory than efficient.

Fortunately, that disappointment was a one-off. Every other dish, especially at dinner, lived up to the promise and reputation of the Whalesbone brand, which now has a flagship location to be proud of.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

DiVino Wine Studio
225 Preston St., 613-221-9760,  divinowinestudio.com
Open: Tuesday to Thursday 5 to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., 5 to 11 p.m., Closed Sunday and Monday
Prices: pastas $12 to $26, mains $24 to $52
Access: small ramp to front door

At DiVino Wine Studio on Preston Street, the bottles get top billing. But we were curious about the food.

When the Little Italy business opened more than eight years ago, it was more like a wine bar with a mission. In May 2008, its original owner, sommelier Antonio Mauriello, told the Citizen: “My concept for DiVino is to educate my customers on a variety of wine and food culture in Italy, while they are having a good glass of wine paired with an antipasto.” 

A few months later, my predecessor weighed in with a mixed review. “There were more disappointments from the kitchen than pleasures,” Anne DesBrisay wrote. She also thought that dishes, and five-ounce glasses of wine, were often over-priced.

Since then, there have been changes at DiVino. Its owner and sommelier is Eric Diotte. DiVino’s website says its chef since June 2011 has been Rome-born Cristian Lepore, but I’m told that Lepore returned to Italy several months ago. Lucas Marshall, who worked with Lepore since April 2014, has taken over.

It was time, I thought last month, to give the place a go. 

I liked the feel of DiVino. Its spacious, 60-seat, main dining room is a long, colourful, engaging space with bulky wood tables and chairs. An open kitchen, perhaps the most open in Ottawa, is a focal point, and two long high tables with stools afford the best views of chefs on the job. On the back wall, scenes from Italy are projected. In the back, there’s a private, 25-seat dining room. Both rooms are available for rental, and true to its original mission, DiVino still holds special events; Upcoming are a Tuscan-themed dinner on Jan. 12, and, on Wednesdays in January, four-course, cocktail-and-food dinners featuring liquors from Ottawa distillery North of 7.

DiVino’s usual nightly menu is compact, consisting of not even two dozen items, including aperitivi (snacks), antipasti (appetizers), primi (pastas) and secondi (meat dishes). Over two dinners, I sampled roughly half of the menu’s dishes, and like DesBrisay, found a mix of winners and losers.

I also thought some prices were too high, although these days, five-ounce glasses of wine are more affordable. (That said, to my surprise, there was no producer information given for wines by the glass as there are for the other wines on the exclusively Italian list.)

DiVino offered some smaller signature items that were worth re-ordering. 

Hefty olives all’ascolana ($3 each) — plump olives in a breaded, fried coating of nicely seasoned sausage meat — jump-started our appetites nicely. We thought quite highly too of DiVino’s version of scamorza in padella ($10), a complexly flavoured, sweet-salty-smoky mix of seared smoked scamorza cheese, apples poached in molasses and prosciutto.

Beef tartare ($17) was reasonably well made, and we appreciated its caramelized onion jam and artichoke purée, if not quite as much its too-crisp crostini.

Likeable enough was the plate of three scallops ($18) on an eggplant purée, flanked by a quenelle of sweetened compound butter and garnished with prosciutto. The scallops, while not overcooked, would have been nicer still with a harder sear. 

The big letdown among the starters was the fried cuttlefish ($12). Despite being cooked sous-vide before being fried, the seafood pieces were too often overly chewy, and not that tasty.

Among the starchier primi dishes, the clear favourite was the comforting and somewhat soupy mushroom risotto ($26), which had good depth of flavour. Gnocchi ($17) were texturally fine, but their mild gorgonzola cream sauce could have been punchier. Briny octopus fettuccine ($18) lacked finesse and its bits of octopus were too chewy and missed out on goodness from the grill.

Many of the dishes above had been recommended by a server. So, too, was the so-called “meat board,” the restaurant’s ($52) deluxe sharing platter for carnivores. It yielded deboned short rib meat and morsels of pork belly — each of those meats were also available on its own — plus slices of seared duck breast and sautéed vegetables.

Three of us made pretty quick work of the meat board, although we differed on which meat was tops. The pork belly, which has a nice seared exterior and a yielding interior, won me over, while another sang the duck breast’s praises, even if I thought it a touch overdone and needed the sparkle of some finishing salt. The short rib meat had definitely seen more moist moments, and on the whole, the sauces and glazes applied to everything on the board skewed to the sweet side.

Our $9 desserts, a small glass of chocolate mousse and three profiteroles, were enjoyable but skimpily sized.

Service was always friendly, but on our second visit, the server was more attentive and proactive in discussing the food.

Both servers were also generous in serving warm, dense bread sliced à la minute for dipping in peppery olive oil. Had all the food been as good as that bread, I’d be all in with my praise for DiVino. But given the unevenness I experienced, I have to recommend that if you go, you pick and choose wisely.

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

DiVino Wine Studio
225 Preston St., 613-221-9760,  divinowinestudio.com
Open: Tuesday to Thursday 5 to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., 5 to 11 p.m., Closed Sunday and Monday
Prices: pastas $12 to $26, mains $24 to $52
Access: small ramp to front door

At DiVino Wine Studio on Preston Street, the bottles get top billing. But we were curious about the food.

When the Little Italy business opened more than eight years ago, it was more like a wine bar with a mission. In May 2008, its original owner, sommelier Antonio Mauriello, told the Citizen: “My concept for DiVino is to educate my customers on a variety of wine and food culture in Italy, while they are having a good glass of wine paired with an antipasto.” 

A few months later, my predecessor weighed in with a mixed review. “There were more disappointments from the kitchen than pleasures,” Anne DesBrisay wrote. She also thought that dishes, and five-ounce glasses of wine, were often over-priced.

Since then, there have been changes at DiVino. Its owner and sommelier is Eric Diotte. DiVino’s website says its chef since June 2011 has been Rome-born Cristian Lepore, but I’m told that Lepore returned to Italy several months ago. Lucas Marshall, who worked with Lepore since April 2014, has taken over.

It was time, I thought last month, to give the place a go. 

I liked the feel of DiVino. Its spacious, 60-seat, main dining room is a long, colourful, engaging space with bulky wood tables and chairs. An open kitchen, perhaps the most open in Ottawa, is a focal point, and two long high tables with stools afford the best views of chefs on the job. On the back wall, scenes from Italy are projected. In the back, there’s a private, 25-seat dining room. Both rooms are available for rental, and true to its original mission, DiVino still holds special events; Upcoming are a Tuscan-themed dinner on Jan. 12, and, on Wednesdays in January, four-course, cocktail-and-food dinners featuring liquors from Ottawa distillery North of 7.

DiVino’s usual nightly menu is compact, consisting of not even two dozen items, including aperitivi (snacks), antipasti (appetizers), primi (pastas) and secondi (meat dishes). Over two dinners, I sampled roughly half of the menu’s dishes, and like DesBrisay, found a mix of winners and losers.

I also thought some prices were too high, although these days, five-ounce glasses of wine are more affordable. (That said, to my surprise, there was no producer information given for wines by the glass as there are for the other wines on the exclusively Italian list.)

DiVino offered some smaller signature items that were worth re-ordering. 

Hefty olives all’ascolana ($3 each) — plump olives in a breaded, fried coating of nicely seasoned sausage meat — jump-started our appetites nicely. We thought quite highly too of DiVino’s version of scamorza in padella ($10), a complexly flavoured, sweet-salty-smoky mix of seared smoked scamorza cheese, apples poached in molasses and prosciutto.

Fried olives at DiVino Wine Studio

Scamorza cheese in padella at DiVino Wine Studio

Beef tartare ($17) was reasonably well made, and we appreciated its caramelized onion jam and artichoke purée, if not quite as much its too-crisp crostini.

Beef tartare at DiVino Wine Studio

Likeable enough was the plate of three scallops ($18) on an eggplant purée, flanked by a quenelle of sweetened compound butter and garnished with prosciutto. The scallops, while not overcooked, would have been nicer still with a harder sear. 

Scallops at DiVino Wine Studio

The big letdown among the starters was the fried cuttlefish ($12). Despite being cooked sous-vide before being fried, the seafood pieces were too often overly chewy, and not that tasty.

Fried cuttlefish with spicy aioli at DiVino Wine Studio

Among the starchier primi dishes, the clear favourite was the comforting and somewhat soupy mushroom risotto ($26), which had good depth of flavour. Gnocchi ($17) were texturally fine, but their mild gorgonzola cream sauce could have been punchier. Briny octopus fettuccine ($18) lacked finesse and its bits of octopus were too chewy and missed out on goodness from the grill.

Mushroom risotto at DiVino Wine Studio

Gnocchi in gorgonzola cream sauce at DiVino Wine Studio

Fettucine with octopus at DiVino Wine Studio

Many of the dishes above had been recommended by a server. So, too, was the so-called “meat board,” the restaurant’s ($52) deluxe sharing platter for carnivores. It yielded deboned short rib meat and morsels of pork belly — each of those meats were also available on its own — plus slices of seared duck breast and sautéed vegetables.

The meat board (short ribs, pork belly and duck breast) at DiVino Wine Studio

Three of us made pretty quick work of the meat board, although we differed on which meat was tops. The pork belly, which has a nice seared exterior and a yielding interior, won me over, while another sang the duck breast’s praises, even if I thought it a touch overdone and needed the sparkle of some finishing salt. The short rib meat had definitely seen more moist moments, and on the whole, the sauces and glazes applied to everything on the board skewed to the sweet side.

Our $9 desserts, a small glass of chocolate mousse and three profiteroles, were enjoyable but skimpily sized.

Chocolate mousse at DiVino Wine Studio 

Profiteroles at DiVino Wine Studio

Service was always friendly, but on our second visit, the server was more attentive and proactive in discussing the food.

Both servers were also generous in serving warm, dense bread sliced à la minute for dipping in peppery olive oil. Had all the food been as good as that bread, I’d be all in with my praise for DiVino. But given the unevenness I experienced, I have to recommend that if you go, you pick and choose wisely.

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

Centrale Bergham
1611 Bank St., 613-695-8844 , centralebergham.com
Open: Monday to Thursday and Saturday, 11 a.m. to midnight, Friday 2 p.m. to midnight, Sunday noon to midnight
Prices: large sandwiches $7.99 to $10.99
Access: No steps to front doors or washrooms

This column doesn’t stray often to cover fast-food franchises, but today’s subject, Centrale Bergham on Bank Street at Heron Road, is a distinctive, excessive and hyper-meaty exception.

I’ve steeled myself and lunched there three times in the last week — not because the food is artisanal or delicious, but more because it intrigues and even bemuses me in terms of its multicultural message and uniqueness in Ottawa. 

The casual eatery is a franchise of a four-year-old Montreal business that has ballooned to nine locations there and counting. A second Ottawa location is planned to open on Donald Street in the east end.

I don’t know what the company’s name, Centrale Bergham, evokes for you. It did not prepare for what I found there, namely massive sandwiches that were hybrids of submarines and pita pockets. “Kebab bread,” is Centrale Bergham’s term.

They were always very well-stuffed, with one or more kinds of meat. In particular, combining chicken and beef between bread is a reoccurring theme.

If the contents and sizes here are not daunting enough, there are the swaggering sandwich names such as “the Majestic,” “the Maximum” and “the Supreme,” which give reason for pause. 

In all of them, the chunks of chicken, strips of sausage, meat patties and beef “bacon” are halal-certified, and indeed there are indicators on the menu that the foods and flavours of North Africa are a pillar of Centrale Bergham’s concept.

For one thing, the so-called “Original” sandwich, tucked away on the menu beneath heftier options, wraps three spicy beef merguez sausages and cheese in its bread-y embrace.

Also, among the joint’s 10 or so customized, mayo-based condiments are Algerian and Moroccan sauces — in addition to its American, Samurai and Biggie sauces, mind you. Indeed, one of the chief tasks for Centrale Bergham’s cashiers is explaining to first-timers the myriad sauces. (“Moroccan and Samurai are the most spicy, Algerian is a little spicy, American is mayo and ketchup…”)

So, if you question whether Canada is a mosaic of cultures, then at least Centrale Bergham is. And I didn’t even mention the tandoori and curried chicken sandwich options or, for that matter, the “Oriental” sandwich stuffed with tandoori chicken, fries, green olives and cheese.

So, you pick your sandwich — or burger, or wrap, or poutine — and choose your sauce. Once it’s been made, the cashier calls you back to the counter, you pick up your meal and then sit down to, as the slogan on the wall says, “taste the world in every bite.”  

The Supreme sandwich brimmed with chicken, marinated in “kebab spices,” and piled on top of somewhat dry merguez sausage halves. Health food it wasn’t. Nor was it as impeccably coloured and crafted as its matching, much-styled image shown on the menu. But the hearty, protein-forward sandwich, fortified with Algerian sauce, provided plenty of flavour. 

On another visit, in the interests of efficiency, I asked Centrale Bergham to make a mix of its “Red” and “Yellow” subs, meaning tandoori and curry chicken. Once more the result was imposingly meaty, but with two distinct flavours, the sharper curry and the more rounded tandoori.

I’ve had the Special, as much to see if I could eat a mound of tandoori chicken on top of two beef patties and live to tell the tale. I did. My dining companion told me that the patties struck him as McDonald’s-esque, as did the Centrale Bergham’s fries. 

Not found under the Golden Arches, but available at Centrale Bergham, was the King burger, which stacked its beef patty and cheese between fried onions and a crispy chicken cutlet. A colleague who sampled it said it was surprisingly sweet, perhaps from onions and barbecue sauce.

Another colleague enjoyed his Philly steak mini-torpedo, which he said tasted as a Philly steak sandwich should.

Dessert might not be high on your list after a sandwich here. But if it is, the choice is between a faux “tiramisu” by the French dessert company Nubi and a wedge of Daim Pie, a Swedish-candy-based treat similar to IKEA’s almond chocolate cake. 

Should these European desserts not appeal, there are quintessentially Canadian alternatives at the Tim Hortons that adjoins Centrale Bergham and shares with it a crowded parking lot.

But even if there are no Timbits at Centrale Bergham, I’d contend there’s something admirably Canadian about the place, too.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum

Centrale Bergham
1611 Bank St., 613-695-8844 , centralebergham.com
Open: Monday to Thursday and Saturday, 11 a.m. to midnight, Friday 2 p.m. to midnight, Sunday noon to midnight
Prices: large sandwiches $7.99 to $10.99
Access: No steps to front doors or washrooms

This column doesn’t stray often to cover fast-food franchises, but today’s subject, Centrale Bergham on Bank Street at Heron Road, is a distinctive, excessive and hyper-meaty exception.

I’ve steeled myself and lunched there three times in the last week — not because the food is artisanal or delicious, but more because it intrigues and even bemuses me in terms of its multicultural message and uniqueness in Ottawa. 

The casual eatery is a franchise of a four-year-old Montreal business that has ballooned to nine locations there and counting. A second Ottawa location is planned to open on Donald Street in the east end.

I don’t know what the company’s name, Centrale Bergham, evokes for you. It did not prepare for what I found there, namely massive sandwiches that were hybrids of submarines and pita pockets. “Kebab bread,” is Centrale Bergham’s term.

They were always very well-stuffed, with one or more kinds of meat. In particular, combining chicken and beef between bread is a reoccurring theme.

If the contents and sizes here are not daunting enough, there are the swaggering sandwich names such as “the Majestic,” “the Maximum” and “the Supreme,” which give reason for pause. 

In all of them, the chunks of chicken, strips of sausage, meat patties and beef “bacon” are halal-certified, and indeed there are indicators on the menu that the foods and flavours of North Africa are a pillar of Centrale Bergham’s concept.

For one thing, the so-called “Original” sandwich, tucked away on the menu beneath heftier options, wraps three spicy beef merguez sausages and cheese in its bread-y embrace.

Also, among the joint’s 10 or so customized, mayo-based condiments are Algerian and Moroccan sauces — in addition to its American, Samurai and Biggie sauces, mind you. Indeed, one of the chief tasks for Centrale Bergham’s cashiers is explaining to first-timers the myriad sauces. (“Moroccan and Samurai are the most spicy, Algerian is a little spicy, American is mayo and ketchup…”)

So, if you question whether Canada is a mosaic of cultures, then at least Centrale Bergham is. And I didn’t even mention the tandoori and curried chicken sandwich options or, for that matter, the “Oriental” sandwich stuffed with tandoori chicken, fries, green olives and cheese.

So, you pick your sandwich — or burger, or wrap, or poutine — and choose your sauce. Once it’s been made, the cashier calls you back to the counter, you pick up your meal and then sit down to, as the slogan on the wall says, “taste the world in every bite.”  

The Supreme sandwich brimmed with chicken, marinated in “kebab spices,” and piled on top of somewhat dry merguez sausage halves. Health food it wasn’t. Nor was it as impeccably coloured and crafted as its matching, much-styled image shown on the menu. But the hearty, protein-forward sandwich, fortified with Algerian sauce, provided plenty of flavour. 

Supreme sandwich (kebab-spiced chicken on merguez sausage) at Centrale Bergham

On another visit, in the interests of efficiency, I asked Centrale Bergham to make a mix of its “Red” and “Yellow” subs, meaning tandoori and curry chicken. Once more the result was imposingly meaty, but with two distinct flavours, the sharper curry and the more rounded tandoori.

Made to order sandwich with curried chicken on top of tandoori chicken at Centrale Bergham

I’ve had the Maximum, as much to see if I could eat a mound of chicken on top of two beef patties and live to tell the tale. I did. My dining companion told me that the patties struck him as McDonald’s-esque, as did Centrale Bergham’s fries. 

Maximum sandwich chicken on beef patties) at Centrale Bergham

Fries at Centrale Bergham

Not found under the Golden Arches, but available at Centrale Bergham, was the King burger, which stacked its beef patty and cheese between fried onions and a crispy chicken cutlet. A colleague who sampled it said it was surprisingly sweet, perhaps from onions and barbecue sauce.

The King burger at Centrale Bergham

Another colleague enjoyed his Philly steak mini-torpedo, which he said tasted as a Philly steak sandwich should.

Philly steak sandwich at Centrale Bergham

Dessert might not be high on your list after a sandwich here. But if it is, the choice is between a faux “tiramisu” by the French dessert company Nubi and a wedge of Daim Pie, a Swedish-candy-based treat similar to IKEA’s almond chocolate cake. 

Daim Pie at Centrale Bergham

Should these European desserts not appeal, there are quintessentially Canadian alternatives at the Tim Hortons that adjoins Centrale Bergham and shares with it a crowded parking lot.

But even if there are no Timbits at Centrale Bergham, I’d contend there’s something admirably Canadian about the place, too.

phum@postmedia.com
twitter.com/peterhum