Showing posts with label Kensington Market. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kensington Market. Show all posts

Monday, September 10, 2012

Lately: brick chicken, meatball pizza and grilled cheese


Sometimes my camera feels like a dumbbell. It’s heavy and bulky (although nothing compared to this) but I never want to miss capturing a shot that makes me smile or something that immediately brings calm to my occasional frantic nerves. I’ve been savouring the end of summer with great enthusiasm and fervor as if it were my last. 


Last weekend, I picked up a bottle of Orange Weisse from Amsterdam Brewery, disguising it in a McDonald’s soda cup and strolled through nooks and cranies of a city I now call home. I found myself in colourful alleyways from Portland Avenue to Spadina, stumbling on what is known as Graffiti Tour, and later, made my way down to the Harbourfront, breathing in the wet, humid air, fantasizing what it’ll be like if I owned a yacht and sailed the world. It was the perfect timing too; the sun was starting to descend over the horizon, splashing everything in its path with a golden glow. 


I’ve also visited Gusto and was seated on the patio, surrounded by my favourite people. We sipped house-made wine (sold for a staggering $1 per ounce!), passed around plates to sample each other’s meals, including brick chicken with fingerling potatoes (featured in the first photo), homemade mozzarella with arugula, chicken salad, the poplette aka meatball pizza, plus rigatoni with juicy bits of tomatoey lambshank. 


On another beautiful day, my belly rumbled (what else is new?) for a heartstoppingly amazzzing grilled cheese sandwich at the aptly named The Grilled Cheese. After much time contemplating the menu, I went for the Mushroom Madness, filled with four types of mushrooms squeezed between cheddar cheese and toasted till light and crispy, I discovered the Good Egg, a pure gem at Kensington Market. I could have spent hours at this store flipping through cookbooks, food memoirs, touching all the Le Creuset dutch ovens and mortar and pestles and microplane graters that sat waiting to be taken home. It was hard leaving, but I wanted to pick up a flourless chocolate cupcake at Miss Cora Kitchen’s before they packed up for the day. If you're ever in the area, I'd suggest picking up a cookie or two at Cora’s before hitting Good Egg, food books are better enjoyed with food in hand.


The other day, I walked into the Hispanic Fiesta at Mel Lastman Square. There was a live band playing Latin music, a crowd had gathered around the stage and a smaller crowd of kids holding hands dancing and giggling. For a brief moment, it felt like Montreal, where street fests can magically transform an ordinary street block to a bumbling electric space. Rebozo’s had a booth with a long snaking line, a sure sign of good food. My theory proven  correctly when I swiftly polished off their popular beef tacos and stole a few bites of my friend’s burrito, swishing it all down with a cold soda. I hope you’ve been having an amazing summer too.

Recipe here!

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Lately


I don’t know how we got to August so soon. I feel like I haven’t played enough, haven’t tanned dark enough (put me next to my mom and we look like night and day), haven’t gone on any road trips, nor have I enjoyed summer to its full potential. I’m not complaining though, I relished each heat wave as if it were my last, sitting motionless on the patio, inducing a minor heat stroke when I arrived at work, woozy with an angry migraine pounding the top of my head. 

Other memorable parts of my summer include hanging out at Centre Island (we didn’t go to the nude beach, but it’s marked high on my bucket list), sipping ridiculously strong mojitos surrounded by calm water at Ennismore, watching the sun go down at 8pm, splashing the sky with a beautiful purple glow, eating fresh, local peaches so sweet, I could feel the glucose bubbling in my blood.

But the proudest thing that I fumbled upon in the past few months, was discovering my love for beer. As I was a child, my dad would occasionally order a tall glass when we dined out, I eyed the golden, foamy drink with curiosity. Silent, I looked to him for approval, with a nod, he pushed the glass closer to me, leaving streaks of moisture across the table. I looked down at the creaminess and took a whiff, I already didn’t like it and I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. Still, like a true food warrior, I took a sip, instantly regretted it and gulped it down making a face. Never again I vowed.

And yet, a spark went off when I went to the Bier Markt for the first time. I tried Achel 8, then Muskoka Brewery’s Mad Tom IPA (I only drink it because of its awesome name), and I tried Belgium’s Leffe and loved them all. They were flavourful, complex and delicious. My 11 year old self wouldn’t believe it, but it’s true.


I went to the Brewer’s Backyard at the gorgeous Evergreen Brickworks and tried Mill St’s blueberry beer (!!) and raspberry beer, my favourite being the former for its refreshing tartness. There were also hot pressed sandwiches to accompany them, like my meltingly tender beef brisket with baked beans and cheddar cheese or my friend’s pulled pork with guacamole and tortilla chips (thank you Fidel Gastro’s!). Both sandwiches sealed the deal that lovely Sunday.


The other day I went for a walk through Kensington market, bringing back flashbacks and then made new memories with the help of a brilliant pint-sized lady named Stella Artois. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn’t have the guts to ask this friendly stranger for a portrait with his handsome Mamiya camera (I promise to dedicate a whole blog post to beer soon). I've been to Kensington several times already and each time, I get lost in the colourful buildings and eclectic crowd that mill around the streets.


 
Recipe here!