Didn't cook too much this week. Was busy enjoying other people's (better) food.
Brandon Olson, prepping his Beta Flight dinner.
So the dude emptied out a pig's head, sewed up the eyes and mouth ... (warning, #NSFSM)
... and stuffed it with tongue and mortadella.
Of the jillion bits of prep that Brando brought over, I love that he though I wouldn't have a splash of bourbon.
The finished product. We can no longer call things "sick" when they are merely delicious. Not when there are foods that qualify as being, not only delicious, but also a little sickening.
Plated up slices of the snout-adella, with mustard and frisée.
First course polished off by everyone but me. I'm little and need to pace myself.
I used to be anti-heart. But this is the second time Brando has served it surprisingly soft. Confit pork heart salad, pickled celery, watercress, "melted leeks" (cooked in butter until they're spreadable) and fennel gastrique.
Michael Bonacini & Jen Agg, looming over the unanimously adored heart dish.
Old buddies Grant van Gameren & Rob Rossi.
[note: When I called Rossi for a post-meal interview over a review of Mercatto, he was exceedingly gracious and forthcoming. This is unusual as most chefs, when you call about a review, are, understandably, paranoid.]
Pork liver mousse (which I made, following Brando's instructions), green strawberries, brioche, walnut butter and chipollinis.
Guy Rawlings, artist before businessperson, echoes Larry David's sentiment, "If they weren't watching on Wednesdays, I don't want them watching on Thursdays."
Ok, I have a billion shots of Agg and Bonacini. I will only post my absolute favourites.
An ultra-nervous Brando plates a last minute experimental course ...
... Rosemary blood custard with bing cherries and basil seedlings. I will say little about this. But once it is tweeked, just a few micrometres, we'll all be hearing a lot more about it.
Brando, slicing into his rack of pork, discovering that the chine bone is going to be a problem.
Rack of pork, belly, peaches and bourbon glaze.
Craig Harding, not needing salt.
Without betraying the confidence of those in attendance, because the idea of the night is for them to share their honest criticisms with the presenting cook, let me add something about subjectivity. The fact that you can have seven well-respected restaurant professionals (Guy Rawlings, Grant van Gameren, Rob Rossi, Craig Harding, Jen Agg, Michael Bonacini, Jesse Vallins), with some of them feeling a dish needs salt, while others don't, means that there is no empirical right or wrong about a dish; that taste is a matter of taste. The fact that some were honest enough to add salt, makes me feel that this night, the fourth in a series, was a success.
My favourite photo of the night. Not just some lucky lighting, but also nice to see guests really engaging with each other. [Not posting photos of what whoever did whatever with the smoking gun. But I have them.]
Smoked ice cream. Coming soon, to restaurant near you.
Mr. Modest, Brandon Olson.
The rest of week was all about trying to consume the abundant leftovers.
Jesse Brown, Katie Minsky and Isaac Minsky-Brown, making a teensy dent. Five friends came over this night and we barely got through half of Brando's leftovers.
Brown is never for a moment any less than an adoring father. But watching him fervidly dive into the last six spoonfuls of smoked ice cream, he clearly wishes he had two free hands.
More leftover pork, the peaches, the pan juice from a shoulder I was smoking for the Toronto Elite Picnic.
Thanks, Canada Post. It only took three weeks to deliver this letter. That's a new record.
Pork chop with a salad of corn, cucumber and tomatillo.
Zucchini and merguez sausage. I know, posting Brando's meal highlights how lazy my everyday cooking is.
If you are not eating Ontario peaches right now, you are missing out on a high point for our often disinterested landscape.
Made it to this week's La Carnita taco truck event. I say event, because with crowds willing to take part in an ineffectually-maintained lineup, while the operators use a loop hole (they're selling art and giving away tacos) to circumvent laws about selling food, it seems more like a concert or an art installation piece. It doesn't appear to be the start of an actual business. However, like Charlie's Burgers, does it need to be a business? Or should we be grateful that there are still people in Toronto who want to invest their time and effort into things that are fun and taste good?
Having said that, the tacos were FAN-TAS-TIC. The flavours were big. They were well-seasoned and spicy. Crispy items, like fried fish or shallots, maintained their crispness.
Also, I met Matt Galloway, the CBC radio nice guy that everyone loves. Turns out, in real life ... (drumroll) ... he is a really nice, smart guy. When I powered up my bike's Jambox, he immediately noticed that it was Wu-Tang. And it was a remix (of Ghostface's Run). So it's not like it was a familar beat.
At C5, a friend pulls out this slick pocket knife to cut his beef (which was totally sous-vide soft).
I know we're supposed to eat more fish. But after a half pound of sea bream (ceviche, with cucumber and mango), I still want a sandwich.
A low point. You know when you are eating curried tofu with carrots and peanuts, that you're just trying to use up whatever's been sitting too long in the kitchen.
If he buys glassware at a comic book store, that's a dealbreaker.
13 pounds of shoulder on the barbie.
I'm pretty proud of how it came out. If only I could have served the sandwiches for the Toronto Elite Picnic straight off the grill.
When life gives you a racist juicer, make lemonade.
1 comments:
I heart Chef Brandon O!
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