Tuesday February 6, 2001
Lesley Chesterman came off very well in her little spot on CBC's "It's A Living." The segment was about the five senses, and they showed a taste-sensing blurred-out Lesley tasting up a storm at Caprices de Nicolas. What poise! Magnifico. I'll see what I can do about turning it into a downloadable video clip—probably not for a while, as I'm just beginning to delve into the vagaries of Final Cut Pro.
In the Do We Really Need This Dept.: Toronto has begun that unsavory practice of making restos post signs in their windows to let the dining public know whether or not they've passed their latest inspection. As one guy for the Resto Association says, "(People won't know) what kind of violation (it is) . . . there's an enormous difference between contaminated food and the head chef wearing jewelry."
I guess that fat gold chain just has to come off, Normand.
According to the Gazette article, Montreal has one of the strictest inspection systems in North America, so not to worry.
We've been expecting an article by Barry Lazar to come out in the Weekend section of the National Post. If you happen to pick one up one of these coming Saturdays, you might check it out. It didn't come out last week, so it probably will this week . . . (sound of wood being thrashed.)
Meanwhile, several new additions to Flavourguy.
Saturday February 17, 2001
Pick up a copy of the National Post today for Barry's article about food critics. If you're from out of town, read the article on their web site here.
Sunday February 18, 2001—Highlights Festival tasting event at Bonsecours Market
"Delicacies of the Americas," description 1, from original website summary:
"The first gastronomic event for the general public will take place in the great hall on the second floor of the Bonsecours Market in Old Montreal. In a convivial atmosphere, festival-goers will discover North American specialties and Californian wines. A fabulous evening to share with family and friends."
"Delicacies of the Americas," description 2, from photocopied handout:
"'Delicacies of the Americas' is meant to be a reflection of the cuisine of Argentina and the Americas, filled with warmth and sun. Take a seat. They are not reserved. Get to know your neighbours. Once your table is complete, we will serve you with a starter. The rest of the meal will flow to the rhythm of Argentinian Tango."
Hmm. Welcome to the twin Delicacies of the Americas, separated at birth. The one witnessed tonight was the amended second version—it seems apparent that a lot of improvising is going on with the festivities, as this event was nowhere to be found on the website come the day of the event, and several were cancelled. Perhaps I missed the point of this particular effort, one of dozens in the sprawling Highlights Festival, or perhaps I should have paid more and gone for one of the higher budget events.
When I initially signed up for this affair, I had envisioned something more like what I had experienced in the 80s in San Francisco, courtesy of KQED (the local PBS channel) in which one paid a stipend of $40 or so and went to a large hall which was lined with stalls manned by restaurateurs and wineries; one wandered around and sampled wares, drank wine and generally consumed to one's heart's content for the price one paid.
Tonight's affair was of a different ilk. Their term "tasting" was definitely a misnomer, since to me, that has to involve a choice of fare—several offerings displayed with an eye to leisurely grazing, not a set menu of two or three items.
This was a sit-down event. The second-floor hall at Bonsecours Market is vast. Dozens of tables were arranged cafeteria-style, and most were filled when we arrived ten minutes late. We were initially ushered to a face-to-face setup smack in the middle of a table of 20 but were able to wangle a side-by-side down at the periphery nearer the door. There was a small band playing what I assumed to be Argentinian music. Lights were multicolored and low.
The first course, already on the table, was a polenta in tomato coulis (aka "Corn flan", according to the photocopied English version of the menu), which was palatable—sort of an upside-down yellow custard in a pool of strained, cold tomato sauce. It tasted definitely cafeteria-style—like the 400th part of a recipe for 400. (Doesn't help that I'm right in the middle of reading "Kitchen Confidential" by Anthony Bourdin. Doesn't help at all.)
The main course, "Aji de Gallina Haunch" was a poultry dish, described as "Hot Pepper Hen" in the literature. It was not hot. I saw no peppers. It was a chicken.
(The most "Hmmm-worthy" item here is possibly the most innocuous: "Argentinean chef Martin Carrera first started a career in veterinarian medicine . . .")
The cheese portion, though well-intentioned, was a catastrophe. A plate was deposited in the middle of the long table, containing the cheeses and the bread to taste them with. A food fight almost erupted with the denizens seated at the table—no one seemed to know how we were supposed to divide the bread or the cheese, and no one appeared to referee the scrum. One waiter seemed to almost will himself not to be noticed as he plastered himself against a side wall.
For the money ($28) it was a good bargain, if you count the good, crusty bread and the extremely reasonably-priced bottle of Fetzer Fumé Blanc ($20). But for the quality and quantity of the food, it should have been free.
Barry comments about the above piece:
I read about your meal of the Americas. I cannot say that I am surprised.
I have a real problem with this type of cooking. Food is always a personal affair. There is a level of intimacy between chef and customer that, we know, can verge on the ecstatic when everything works ("omigod, that is sooo good"). There is also the type of gustatory celebration that works when everyone is at the same level and is having fun. The annual Perth Ontario garlic festival comes to mind as do a thousand and one barbecues, Mexican fiestas, etc. Even a church wedding in Burnt Islands Newfoundland filled the bill when a dozen people each brought the pride of their pantries in the form of achingly sweet home made cream cakes and squares. This latter form of participatory eating is one in which we share appetites as well as values.
What the festival of festivals (or lights or whatever) promises but can never deliver is the enthusiasm of the latter with the delicacy of the former. Can't be done. It's like trying to have "a relationship" at an orgy. (Not that I would know . . .)
Tuesday February 27, 2001
Updated the Letters section. It's getting quite huge.
|
|
