Category Archives: Other Life Choices

World Cup of Dining in Toronto 17-18: England, Australia


Posted by Patrick Okens

England: “Well I am swooning from this invitation” responded my friend sarcastically, but positively. I had asked a colleague from Cambridgeshire what IMG_20140424_191812he’d recommend to someone who had never sampled English cuisine. The joke practically writes itself….anyway…..my pal got a dreamy faraway look in his eyes and said “steak and kidney pie”.

Unfortunately, the Queen & Beaver did not serve this. So, washing it down with several pints of Fuller’s London Pride Ale, I had rabbit and potato pie. There will be a new Easter Bunny next year. It was tasty but fairly innocuous. There wasn’t anything particularly English about the patrons, watching a hockey game on the wide screen. On the walls, predictably, photos of the 1966 World Cup winning side.

 

Australia: today, during the deluge, I took a cab ride downtown with two Australians. I had pre-ordered meat pies from a bistro that sells an Aussie pie IMG_20140429_130621maker’s wares and we were on a lunchtime mission. My friends of the down under persuasion explained to me that in Australia, meat pies are about the same as hot dogs here; you get them at sports events and in the school cafeteria. And as I learned, you eat them with your hands and get ketchup on yourself. They pronounced the pie crusts authentic, but the filling good albeit a little too gourmet to be truly comfort food. All the same, it was yum served with a healthy helping of Aussie culture. No budgie smuggling was involved.


World Cup of Dining in Toronto 16: Russia


Posted by Patrick Okens

“I’m afraid I have bad news”, said the waiter, explaining that neither of our appetizers were available from the kitchen. So we went with pelmeni dumplings instead.

My friend and I did something profoundly un-Russian and showed up early Saturday evening. Consequently, we were the first at Rasputin Vodka Bar on Queen St. East. Not that we were complaining. The tsarist Russian theme, mood lighting, comfortable couches and tasteful techno music (can’t think of a better way to describe it) enabled conversation that a crowded stand-up setting would not have.

The setting also enabled a vodka tasting session. Usually, 80-proof grain alcohol is fired down gullets with bravado or drowned in Seven-Up. My drinking IMG_20140419_200404companion and I decided tonight would be different. And so along with the pelmeni, the waiter brought bottles of Icelandic, Polish and Texan vodka, pouring shots of each in different glasses. After sipping rather than gulping, we pronounced Poland smoothest and sweetest, Iceland most aggressive in “bouquet”, and Texas to have the most sting on the lips.

“I’m afraid I have more bad news”, sad the waiter. Our chosen mains were also unavailable from the kitchen. But we were in an agreeable mood and went with latkas and a cheese platter. My friend, who knows of scientific things, determined that a properly conclusive taste test would have involved at least 15 more shots in different order, and removal of the labels to eliminate the nationality bias. Mercifully, we simply finished off the last of our top choice bottle instead. A friend arrived, and talk gently devolved into rowing, cycling and other bad decisions.

All in all, not the most authentic Russian experience (no hangover to report!) but for that I’m certain we would have to go to Russia.