“I have always believed that the best way to move forward is to truly embrace our past.”
- Hon. John C. Crosbie, Lt. Governor and Patron of the Sealers Memorial Campaign

Chefs Hussey, MacPherson and Perrin

Talk of sealing and seal dinners always make me think of my late dad. He was from Wesleyville, a town that hardly needs to display its bona fides as far as sealing is concerned. Dad was born in 1917 and in the early 30’s he got his first berth on a sealing vessel in St. John’s. He would tell stories about his trips to the seal hunt. Once he fell through the ice and almost died. Dad came from a family of good cooks and knew a thing or two about cooking seal. I’ve always enjoyed eating it. My family roots in Newfoundland – on both sides – go back to the early 1700’s. Sometimes I think my appetite for seal meat is in my DNA. Am I part of a dying breed of seal eaters?

I raise the question because every year I go to a church basement or hall for a feed of flipper pie. Usually I’m one of the youngest people there – and I’m no spring chicken. Fewer and fewer folk go to these events. It’s also getting more difficult to procure seal meat. Last week I attended the Top Chefs Seal of Approval Dinner at Quidi Vidi Brewery in support of Home from the Sea, the Sealers Memorial Campaign for Elliston. There was no shortage of seal meat there and I came away convinced that with the right chefs, some smart marketing, and a bit of luck we could see people dining on seal in Newfoundland and Labrador restaurants.

Seal loin and pork terrine

Another era
Ironically there was a time in this province when people would eat seal before they’d eat lobster. My father’s generation saw lobster as something people ate when they were desperate. Lobsters were viewed as scavengers or garbage eaters – creatures that would consume literally anything. Seal meat was a delicacy in that era. In recent decades seal has become a tough sell. There’s labour involved in getting it ready for the pan or pot. It’s unusually dark and has a pungent aroma when cooking, especially if much seal fat is involved. My dad prepared seal meat very carefully, until it was free of all fat. Mind you, seal is not the only food that’s tricky to prepare. There are many. Ever try cooking sweetbreads? (That’s the thymus gland or pancreas of a calf.) I have.

The culinary team that initiated last week’s dinner wanted to accomplish two things. First they wanted to help raise money for the worthy cause of constructing a Sealers Memorial and Interpretation Centre in Elliston. But they also wanted to explore the culinary potential of seal, to experiment with the meat and determine which culinary techniques might be applied to it successfully. We happy diners were privileged to enjoy the results of their work.

First course was seal loin and pork terrine, created by Shaun Hussey and Michelle Leblanc of Chinched Bistro. Hussey makes lots of charcuterie – terrines and such – so I wasn’t surprised by the choice of dish. Nor was I surprised by the great marriage of flavours. Bacon seems to go well with everything, and combining pork fat with seal is quite traditional. Two rectangular slices of the terrine rested on a white plate. They were dark and flecked with pork fat. Pistachios here and there provided contrasting colour and texture. A little zip was added by a topping of mustard pickles.

Seal carpaccio

Todd Perrin of Chef’s Inn prepared smoked seal carpaccio with spring salad. Fish and game take well to smoking and Perrin’s seal carpaccio was a perfect example. I liked the smoky edge that made the black truffle-like razor thin slices of flesh taste slightly more exotic. The seal carpaccio, like good caviar, sort of evaporated in the mouth. It was moRaymonds’ lto delizioso.

Seal raviolo with seal chop

Seal ravioli
team of Jeremy Charles (absent for the actual event) and Kyumin Hahn came up with seal and veal cheek ravioli, and frenched rack of seal. A single, very plump raviolo cosied next to a beautifully frenched seal chop. The entire dish, including fabulous accents of salt roasted beet, butter radish and horseradish cream, was sensational. I was most impressed by the frenched seal chop. It was revelatory. Who knew seal could be made to look so sophisticated? Who knew seal could have such delicate texture? Who knew seal could be so succulent

Seal stew with halibut en croute

A seal dinner celebrating the history of our sealers and sealing demanded a dish with echoes from our culinary past. Roary MacPherson of the Sheraton Hotel Newfoundland provided such a dish. I think most in attendance would agree his was the only dish influenced by traditional seal flipper pie. Still it was quite different. A beautiful stew of gravy, slowly braised seal meat and turned root vegetables was topped by a piece of fresh halibut en croute (in puff pastry.)  At first I wasn’t sure about the introduction of halibut. I thought there might be a clash of flavours but both got along well.

Kyumin Hahn prepares to grill seal racks

Cynics may say the seal dinner was an attempt to romanticize the past, that most of us have no interest in dining on seal. Only an ignoramus could believe the people involved in the dinner and the memorial project are motivated by anything but a sincere desire to honour our history and sealers who lost their lives sealing – as well as exploring the culinary potential of seal. The meat of this wild game is extremely healthful. If talented chefs like Perrin, Charles, Hahn, Hussey, Leblanc and MacPherson can create palatable seal dishes with broad appeal that would be a very good thing. I believe all the dishes mentioned in this article could become consistent sellers in their restaurants.

Published in Weekend Telegram May 5, 2012

Raymonds Jeremy Charles dressed as poutine cook

A chap named Henry Hartman once said, “Success always comes when preparation meets opportunity.” I guess another way to put it would be if you plan an annual event make sure you pick the right time to launch it. That is most certainly what the folk at the Restaurant Association of Newfoundland and Labrador did when they launched the St. John’s Savour Food and Wine Show at the Delta Hotel five years ago in 2008. (Five years! It’s hard to believe.) The annual event seems to get better every year and I’m delighted to say the balance of restaurant vendors v. wine vendors seems to be just about perfect. I particularly enjoyed the fact that some restaurants this year paired their creations with wines from the show. A wonderful idea.

Of the forty-seven exhibitors at Savour most were restaurants – from fish and chips eateries and pubs like Ches’s and The Guv’nor, to casuals like Celtic Hearth and higher-end restaurants like Atlantica and Raymonds. Some artisinal producers, including Five Brothers Cheese operated by cheese maker Adam Blanchard were there as well. On the beverage side, you could call YellowBelly Brewery an artisanal producer and, in a slight stretch, Rodrigues Wines and Quidi Vidi Brewery. The other beer, wine and spirits representatives offered up samples from larger or mass producers. More importantly everything served up had quality.

Booths galore
I wish I could tell you about all forty-seven booths at Savour. Indeed I wish I had been able to visit all forty-seven booths. Unfortunately the constraints of time and attendees stopping me to ask what I “liked best” made it impossible to try everything available. What follows are the highlights of what I experienced at Savour 2012.

The most whimsical, fun booth at Savour – and one of the best-executed themes ever – was “Raymonds Diner.” It was Raymonds way of poking fun at its reputation for being the most expensive and pretentious restaurant in St. John’s. Chef Jeremy Charles and crew were dressed like greasy spoon staff, complete with short order cooks’ paper hats. And what about the food? It was Newfoundland moose poutine – chips, pulled moose, Quebec cheese curds and moose gravy. I loved it, as well as the ice cream sandwich served by them for dessert. Homemade vanilla ice cream between two round chocolate biscuits was the perfect sweet for this clever take on local fast food. If I’d had a Pepsi I’d have been in heaven. (By the way – for the record – for the food and experience you get at Raymonds it is not expensive.)

Lamb cone by chef Steve Gugelmeier

Chef Steve Gugelmeier of the Delta St. John’s showed why he’s bound to be a valuable asset to the local culinary scene. He presented a delightful snackette that looked like a tiny white chocolate dipped ice cream cone at a glance. In fact it was a ball of minced lamb, covered in melting Five Brothers mozza cheese, balanced on a tiny chia seed cone. Inside the cone – at the bottom – was kicking habanera chutney. This treat showed creativity, visual appeal and had wonderful flavour and texture.

Taste memories
Two of the tastier and memorable bites came from Chinched and Papa’s Pier 17. Shaun Hussey of Chinched produced a beautiful smoked pork hock terrine with sour cherry mustardo on brioche croutons. Things hotted up in temperature and spicing with chef Gerald McCormack’s Cajun BBQ shrimp (“blackened in the pan with a perfect blend of seasoning and sauce”) from Papa’s Pier 17. As we say around these parts, they were very more-ish.

The Holiday Inn contingent, headed by chef Andrew Hodge, presented a scallop that attracted a number of fans. The scallop was coconut crusted and served with a tangy pineapple lime salsa. I enjoyed that specific combination. Another combo I enjoyed was Adam Blanchard’s Five Brothers cheese plate: queso fresco, Newfoundland chevre dusted in charcoal and three-month-old cracked pepper cheddar.

Greg Winter of Dialog Wines (who joins One Chef One Critic as a wine expert this fall) showed a number of modestly priced wines with lots of oomph – how’s that for a wine tasting term? I tried a new champagne that was as tasty as many high quality champagnes but less expensive by one-third. It’s called Veuve Doussot. (Veuve means “widow” in French, so, literally, the widow Doussot. Veuve Clicquot is not the only champagne widow in France.) This exceptionally pleasant bubbly, made by Stéphane Joly from 100 percent pinot noir grapes – 60 percent current and 40 percent previous vintages – retails here for about $40.

Daskalides chocolates from Manna Bakery

Sweets
Now here are my hits on the dolce side of the culinary menu. First I recommend Bacalao’s homemade marshmallows that came in two flavours – Jumping Bean espresso and Screech ‘n’ butter. Sophia’s of Carbonear gave samples of gluten-free dark chocolate cake with bakeapple cream and a dollop of bottled bakeapples. The Sheraton served cake too but with some peanut butter and banana ice cream made from a Sheraton recipe by Moo Moo’s Ice Cream. Chinched stole a lot of hearts with Michelle LeBlanc’s rendering of mini pastry cream filled beignets with partridgeberry preserves.

Finally, no Savour Food and Wine event would be complete without chocolate. I was very impressed with the hand made chocolate truffles by chef Carl Spurrell of Gypsy Tea Room. Server Grant Fowler allowed me to taste rum and chilli dark chocolate truffles as well as a white chocolate truffle including cranberries, pecans and Grand Marnier. They evaporated in the mouth leaving me on a kind of high.  The best commercial chocolates I had – Daskalides chocolates presented on an eye catching glittering platter – came from Manna Bakery. As usual Jon Rusted of Manna arranged a fabulously visual display. I tried one of their champagne truffles and an equally delicious Amaretto truffle. It was a five star ending to a five star evening. High fives for year five of Savour.

Upper level of Casbah

Casbah
2 Cathedral Street
Ph. 738-5293

Casbah is a restaurant name I’ve always liked. It has the exotic cachet of a 1940’s Eric Ambler foreign suspence novel, or a black and white film starring Peter Lorre. A casbah, according to the Oxford dictionary, refers to “the citadel of a North African city” or “the area surrounding a North African citadel.” This ain’t North Africa but being located in the shadow of a citadel – well, Anglican Cathedral – puts some context to the Casbah name.

Use your imagination and I think the interior of Casbah has the look of a restaurant you might see popping up in one of those 40’s genre novels. Maybe it’s the big propeller fans in the ceiling that lend to the restaurant’s vintage ambience. Even though Casbah has only been around about ten years, it has the established feel of a bistro that’s been around much longer. And, unlike most restaurants its design and décor seem to be timeless. It has pale mustard coloured walls lined with an eclectic mixture of vintage posters, photos and other images.

We climbed the tall staircase – at the end of the long main floor bar – to the loft area that overlooks the bar with its cache of wines, beers, spirits and regular customers determined to keep the bar from falling over – figuratively of course. We sat next to the iron rail, interrupted by honey coloured wooden posts. Tables with dark wooden chairs were covered with forest green cloth and napkins. Behind us a large blackboard announced the availability of a variety of imported beers: Corona, MGD, Kronenbourg 1664, Guinness, Sapporro, Stella, Leffe, Heineken, Peroni and Kilkenny.

Owners
Casbah owner, Steve Curtis, started out in the restaurant business over a decade ago and he’s established a restaurant with legs – and I don’t mean chicken. I believe the reason for Casbah’s longevity is Curtis’s evolution as a businessman. He’s someone who has learned to hang on to what works and dump what does not. His business partner is a gent named John Bidgood, who is low profile and more behind-the-scenes. Both men are to be congratulated for the success of Casbah.

The heart of a restaurant is the kitchen and, usually, the person in charge of the kitchen interprets and maintains the restaurant’s raison d’etre. At Casbah there is no chef, at least not in the strict sense of the word, for chef means chief. The chief (or chef) of the kitchen is in charge of everything (food purchases, recipes, menu planning, budgeting, cooking) and everybody in the kitchen. When I asked our server who the chef is these days at Casbah she answered, “We have three.” Well, if Casbah has three people in charge of the kitchen as equals I’m amazed that things seem to be working so well. Casbah’s chefs or possibly cuisiniers are: Paul Fifield, Ken Sweetapple and Patrick Ward.

Our server was very friendly and professional. She seemed quite in control of her serving responsibilities and, although I may be wrong, she also appeared to be managing Casbah that night. After serving our drinks – 0.5 beer for me and a white wine for partner – she told us about the specials. They sounded okay, but we found the regular menu to be much more appealing. It had been a long time since I’d had dinner at Casbah and menu items like Australian lamb impressed me. (Unfortunately they were all out of Aussie lamb that night. That happens to me a lot.)

Tequila, chilli and lime glazed shrimp

Appetizers
Casbah offers a variety of dishes under the headings: small, medium and pasta. As near as I could figure small refers to appetizers, medium to salads (mostly,) large means mains, or entrées, and pasta is pasta. From “smalls” we had scallops, shrimp and crepes. The scallops – three ocean scallops – were pan seared and served in a small pool of molasses, melted butter, rum, scallop juices and ginger. A tasteful amount of finely sliced caramelized leeks was placed atop the bivalves as decoration. This dish was superb, not too sweet and everything worked to enhance the taste of the perfectly cooked scallops.

Next came jumbo shrimp served with rice noodles and julienne vegetables. The shrimp had been glazed in a combination of tequila, chilli and lime. There was a small puddle of the glazing liquid in the bottom of the dish. Wow, wow, wow, what a great combination this was. I could have eaten a full platter. It was the tequila, chilli and lime flavourings that really did it for me. That combo made the shrimp and the entire dish sing an aria. No, on second thought, an entire opera.

My crepes were filled with duck confit and served with green salad and ginger mandarin dressing. The crepes were warm, soft and succulent too from the tender, rich canard. I would have preferred a fruitier, less tart sauce with the duck-filled crepes. Also, the duck was slightly under-seasoned I thought. More salt would have helped.

Mains
When the Australian lamb was nixed I went with more duck (I’m a duck-o-holic.) It was spice rubbed Magret duck breast with a blueberry port reduction. Despite my rarely liking blueberries in this sort of savoury dish I thought it worked well. (I saw someone combine strawberries and salmon fillet the other day and was horrified; sorry but some ingredient combinations aren’t for me.) The duck had good flavours, which spoke well of the preparation and the provenance of the duck. Some types of duck and duck farming produce better tasting product than others.

Finally, we had a big, juicy, tender hunk of Black Angus tenderloin. The steak had been rubbed with cracked black pepper, garlic and oregano. Underneath was a red wine caramelized sauce. The roasted potatoes and medley of green beans, zucchini and sweet red peppers was cooked perfectly too. Partner and I had a significant difference of opinion when I expressed the view that the beef itself (apart from the seasonings) did not have the kind of beefy flavour it should have had. An animal that’s raised as a premium food product – having consumed top quality food itself and been well cared for – should have plenty of flavour all on its own, flavour that is unique to beef or chicken or pork or whatever it happens to be. I thought the Black Angus tenderloin was on the lower side of the flavour scale. I don’t know why that is but that is my view.

What I am sure of is that since my last visit there has been a phenomenal improvement in the food at Casbah. It now has some damn good chefs (all three) and is well worth a visit. I’m just sorry I didn’t get back sooner, but, better late than never. Three stars for excellent!

Rating:
***
Price: Dinner for two with wine, tax and gratuity – $170 (approx.)

Sound Level: Moderate

Wheelchair access: No

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Published in the Weekend Telegram, April 21, 2012

Chef Jeff Brothers in Marco Pierre White's

This is the story of a young chef who has come a long way. His name is Jeffrey Brothers. He was born in Grand Falls, Newfoundland 34 years ago. Today Jeffrey Brothers is the Chef de Cuisine (or chief of the kitchen staff) at the Fairmont Bab Al Bahr Hotel in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. He is responsible for Bab Al Bahr’s Marco Pierre White Steakhouse and Grill, their Chocolate Gallery Café, and Chameleon – the hotel’s popular nightclub. Brothers began his culinary career with Mark McEwan at Toronto’s famous North 44. Still, it’s a long way from Grand Falls to Abu Dhabi.

Brothers trained with distinction at Humber College in Toronto. Humber has one of the finest culinary programs in Canada. After graduating from Humber’s Culinary Management Program he earned a Chef de Cuisine Designation through the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology. About ten years ago Jeffrey Brothers was awarded the gold medal at the Canadian Young Commis Rôtisseurs competition. That led to him competing in an international culinary competition in Singapore in 2002 when he was still, as they say, wet behind the ears.

Heady start
After stints with North 44, Susur and Toronto’s Royal York, Jeffrey Brothers headed west to work at the Delta in Kananaskis, eventually re-locating to lotus land. In British Columbia he worked as sous chef at the venerable Fairmont Empress Hotel in Victoria. From there Jeffrey Brothers accepted what he thought was too good an opportunity to pass up, the position of Chef de Cuisine at the Fairmont Bab Al Bahr in Abu Dhabi. This past year Bab Al Bahr’s Marco Pierre White Steakhouse and Grill was named Abu Dhabi’s Restaurant of the Year, Abu Dhabi’s Best Steakhouse, 10th among Fairmont restaurants and 27th of the

The Bab Al Bahr Hotel

Top 50 Middle East Restaurants.

When growing up in Central Newfoundland Jeffrey Brothers’ favourite television programs were Wok with Yan and Urban Peasant. Indirectly Martin Yan, James Barbour and Brothers’ mom can take credit for him becoming a chef. He loved to watch his mom bake breads, cakes, pies and cookies. The first thing he remembers making on his own was a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

Today, in addition to having great respect for the likes of Thomas Keller, Joel Robuchon, Alain Ducasse and Paul Bocuse, Jeffrey Brothers has been influenced by chefs with a more modern take on cooking. But, these are still chefs who insist on “good solid cooking practices” being employed.

“One chef who I recently worked with, Ken Nakano had a big influence on my cooking,” says Brothers.  He really embraced using local and sustainable produce and products.  This really changed the way I source products now. I really like to support the small guys who have a story to tell about what they’re supplying. My mentors are Chefs Michael McFadden, Takashi Ito, John Cordeaux just to name a few.”

Cooking style
I asked Brothers to describe how his cooking has changed over the past ten years.

“My cooking has become more refined.  I’ve always been able to put together flavours that match or go together, but over the years you learn how to get the best flavour and texture from a product. I look at a product or idea and think, how can I make this my own?  How will the person eating this say “Oh, this must be Jeffrey’s cooking.”

“I don’t think there’s too much you can do anymore that hasn’t already been done; it’s just putting your special touch on it.  One concept that’s really changed the way we look at food has been the modernist cooking approach. Once called Molecular Gastronomy.  It’s preparing food in a way that not only tastes good but focuses on creating different textures and sensations as well.”

Being in the United Arab Emirates has been a learning experience for Jeffrey Brothers. After having been there almost a year it was just this week he saw any rain, and then it was only a few drops. Learning about the religious practices there was important. For example, during Ramadan it is disrespectful to eat or drink in public and if you are caught eating or drinking in public you’re fined.

Home cooking
Despite being exposed to the unique food flavours and textures of the Middle East Jeffrey Brothers tells me he still enjoys returning to his home nest to enjoy Newfoundland food with fellow Canadians living in Abu Dhabi.

“When I can get hold of salt beef I’ll make jigs dinner. Over here it’s hard to get so I’m going to try to make some homemade salt beef. BBQ is great with friends. I actually have quite a few friends here from Newfoundland. They’re over here quite regularly on business.”

My last question to Jeffrey Brothers yielded a revealing and honest answer. And frankly, it makes a perfect closing to this profile of our up and coming young chef. I asked him if becoming a chef has been everything he thought it would be.

“I would say everything and more.  It’s been a lot of work, long hours and at times stressful but it’s been very rewarding as well.  I’ve met some amazing people, made some great friends and have had a lot of fun along the way. A good friend of mine, for whom I have tremendous respect, told me “it’s not always where you end up, it’s about how much fun you had getting there.”

Here’s one of Jeffrey Brothers’ dessert recipes, first developed when Brothers was sous chef at the Fairmont Empress Hotel in Victoria, BC.

Goat cheese cheesecake

Goat cheese cheesecake with blueberry compote
Yield 10 servings
By Jeffrey Brothers

Ingredients:
225 gm Graham cracker crumbs
85 gm melted unsalted butter
510 gm goat cheese
170 gm mascarpone cheese
170 gm granulated sugar
80 ml whipping cream
5 eggs room temperature
1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen wild blueberries
2 1/2 tsp granulated sugar
1 tsp cornstarch
1 tbsp cold water

Method:
Cream the goat cheese, mascarpone and sugar together. Combine the cream and eggs and beat for a few seconds to blend. Gradually add the egg mixture to the cheese mixture, blending until smooth. Stop periodically to scrape the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Make sure there are no lumps. Prepare 9-inch spring form pans by tightly covering the outside bottom and sides with a double layer of parchment paper and aluminium foil. Combine the Graham cracker crumbs with the melted butter. Press firmly and evenly over the bottom of the molds. Pour the cheesecake batter into the pan and smooth the top to make it even. Set the pan in a roasting pan and pour enough hot water to come half way up the sides. Bake 325 F for approximately 45 – 60 minutes or until the filling is set. When done remove the pan from the water bath and let cool.

For the blueberry compote:
Combine blueberries and sugar in a small saucepot. Bring the mixture to a simmer and let cook till the blueberries start to break down but are still natural in shape. Mix the cornstarch and water together and pour into the mixture. Let the mixture simmer for another minute then remove it from the heat.

To serve cut the desired portion from the cheesecake and top with the blueberry compote.

Published April 14, 2012 in the Weekend Telegram

Karl with actor William Roache

I intended to title this week’s column Dinner with William Roache or, depending on where the chips fell, possibly Lunch with William Roache. As you can see, gastronomically speaking, things fell well short of the mark. Tea with William Roache was the best I could achieve. My initial plan was sound. You know the drill. We dine. We chat. We have a glass of wine. I write about my dining companion, the restaurant, the food and it turns into a nice little piece – with, hopefully, a few lively bits – about a visiting international celebrity. Access to my subject was never an issue.

I had been contracted, as I have several times, to host and navigate a live fan show with a Coronation Street star. The deal was that I would fly to Halifax and do two performances of a show called, An Audience with William Roache. (It was a huge success and Bill – as I am now permitted to call him – had some kind things to say about Canada, Canadians and so forth.) But, to paraphrase Forrest Gump, when it comes to Coronation Street stars, they’re “like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” In Bill’s case – a lovely man by the way – he turned out to be a vegetarian who ate lettuce and tomato sandwiches and who, frankly, did not have very much interest in food or eating. To be fair, he did have a bit of a cold and I think his doctor recently wagged the finger about excess calories.

English breakfast tea
So the best I could manage was a cup of Higgins and Burke English breakfast tea with Bill in the green room backstage at Casino Nova Scotia. He takes his tea like me, milk no sugar and prefers what he calls “regular depraved tea” to herbal varieties. There was a lettuce and tomato on white standing by; however, the only thing I ever saw Bill put in his mouth was a Ricola cough drop. I will try to work in the odd food reference where I can. For example, the first time I met Bill I learned he takes coffee with hot chocolate, half and half. It was Tim Horton’s. (I know, that’s a lame food reference but, please, work with me folks.)

William Roache enjoys a "cuppa"

William Roache, for the uninitiated, is a huge soap opera star in the United Kingdom, and to a lesser extent in New Zealand and Canada. He plays a character called, Ken Barlow, on Coronation Street. Ken appeared in the first episode of the serial on December 29, 1960 and he’s been in it ever since. That makes William Roache a Guinness World Record Holder for playing the longest running soaps character in television history. On April 23 William Roache will celebrate his 80th birthday. The character and the actor have one thing in common, apart from enjoying a good cuppa. Both have had more than a few intimate encounters with members of the opposite gender. Ken’s history is quite clear: four wives and twenty-four affairs, so far.

Uncontrollable
Bill’s history with what he described as his uncontrollable sex appetite (if not one for actual food) is documented in his autobiography called, Ken and Me. Strangely, it was this appetite and the lack of the other – already outlined – that made my Halifax assignment a tad more challenging than I’d anticipated. You see, just as Bill was flying to Canada, Piers Morgan, in promoting an upcoming UK television interview with Bill, announced that Bill claimed (on Piers Morgan’s Life Stories) to have slept with one thousand women. Yes, that’s right, one thousand. For the record, here’s what Bill had to say in Ken and Me about his period of promiscuity,

“I wanted a good, wholesome family life. But I misbehaved. I had a lot of affairs with some very attractive and well-known women, and with some not so attractive and not so well-known women. But it wasn’t the carefree bachelor life everyone envies. I always felt slightly tainted and guilty.”

Piers Morgan’s news about Bill spread through Coronation Street fandom like wildfire. I was shocked. It was a salacious scrap of news I didn’t want to know about. And I didn’t believe it. It was too preposterous. The idea that Bill could have found the time and opportunity to sleep with one thousand women, given his schedule and commitments, was simply ridiculous. Piers Morgan’s bombshell made me so ill at ease that I couldn’t mention it to Bill. And I feared that during the Q and A someone would blurt out something unpleasant about it or possibly even heckle Bill. Well, we were spared hecklers.

Elderly lady
During my first foray into the audience to take questions I focused on a sweet looking, white haired elderly lady who’d held up her hand. She looked like she’d just come from serving tea at a church social. No problem here I thought. I put the mike to her mouth and asked, “What’s your question for Mr. Roache?” And then, in her tiny but not hesitant voice she asked,

“Is it true that you slept with two thousand women?”

Gentle Jesus. She’d not only asked but had jacked up his conquests to two thousand! Bill is seriously deaf so I had to repeat the question, correcting the figure to one thousand (while the sweet old dear shouted, “No! It was two thousand!”) The room went very quiet. What would Bill answer?

At first he looked slightly taken aback (no doubt as surprised as I was by the source of the question) but then went on to explain that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and that the fault for it lay mostly with Piers Morgan – who he described as having beady little eyes – and his appetite for the sensational news story. Apparently Piers asked him how many affairs he’d had and Bill said, “I don’t know.” Then Piers asked, “Was it one hundred?” Bill gave the same reply. This same back and forth went on until Piers got to one thousand women and Bill said again, “Piers I do not know.” It was a reasonable explanation and the audience loved Bill’s several references to Piers and his “beady little eyes.” (No doubt this story will flare up again when Piers Morgan’s Life Stories with William Roache airs on ITV, UK, April 13, 2012.)

More food?
Well, I suppose it’s about time I worked in some more food references. Let’s see. Okay, here’s one about a goat, a recipe for a Jamaican rum cocktail, dining on wild game and a beer story.

Roache in his twenties

Before getting into acting Bill did a stint in the British Army. He was stationed in Kingston Jamaica as second lieutenant with the Royal Welch Fusiliers. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth ll – then a young Princess Elizabeth – made a visit to the base along with husband, Prince Philip. Someone happened to mention to the Princess that the Regimental Goat liked to eat cigarettes. The future Queen asked for a demonstration. The sight of the goat munching away on Benson and Hedges so made Princess Elizabeth “laugh and giggle like a school girl” that soldiers began to pass Her Royal Highness cigarettes to feed to the goat. (Okay, cigarettes aren’t food, and they weren’t good for the poor goat, but you have to admit it was a good story.)

There wasn’t a lot to do in Kingston in the early fifties so soldiers and officers found themselves playing a lot of cricket. According to Bill it was an idyllic life where one day and one cricket match blurred into another and where hangovers seemed never ending. Bill said, “They’d bring out these drinks during the cricket match made from rum and the fresh cane sugar and freshly squeezed lime juice, a really beautiful drink. Well, we couldn’t figure out when the cricket match ended and the party began.”

Before Bill was discharged from the army he did a stint in Oman. He volunteered to take charge of a peacekeeping force in a far-flung desert post called Mirfa. His squadron consisted of one hundred and forty locally trained young men from the Gulf’s seven sheikdoms. Bill managed to get on with them despite the fact they’d shot their previous commander. They’d ask him questions like, “How many camels does your father have?”

Wild animals
Occasionally they’d catch wild animals and bring them to Bill in case he might like to eat them. (They liked to roast small animals on a spit over a fire.) Not having much of an appetite for wild game either, Bill instead turned his tent into a small animal infirmary, attempting to nurse these animals back to health and release them back into the wild. At one point he had a jerboa (a hopping desert rodent with big ears) an owl, and a fox in residence. Of course, eventually the owl ate the jerboa and the fox ate the owl. Then the fox bit the end off Bill’s nose and that was the end of the animal hospital. (If you look very closely the next time you watch Coronation Street you can see the scar on the tip of Bill’s nose.)

When Bill started with Coronation Street every episode either went out live or was filmed as if it were live – no stopping in other words. One of the funniest incidents he recalls from those early years was when he worked with an actor named Graham Habberfield. Habberfield’s character was Jerry Booth. One day Jerry Booth was required to drink a pint in the Rover’s Return pub, exit and then reappear in the next scene where he kisses a girl. Habberfield had to quickly move from the pub set to a house set just inches away. When the scene was filmed Bill said he watched horrified as Jerry Booth drank the pint, moved to the next set, and threw up over everything. Then, with the cameras back on he proceeded to kiss the girl.

So, what was the cause of Jerry Booth’s sudden illness? According to Bill, the chap who looked after props like the Rover’s beer had been told that the apple juice he was using to imitate beer didn’t look real enough. Without telling anybody he’d added gravy browning and soda water to it. Having been exposed to all manner of prop food, phoney ale and bogus whiskey these past fifty-two years I now understand perfectly why William Roache can be completely satisfied with a lettuce and tomato sandwich and a simple cup of depraved regular tea.

Published in The Weekend Telegram, April 7, 2012

Chives
1537 Barrington St.
Halifax, NS
Ph. 902-420-9626

Chefs Craig Flinn and Darren Lewis operate one of eastern Canada’s best restaurants. Called Chives, it’s about as unpretentious in looks – both exterior and interior – atmosphere, service, and food as a high-end restaurant can be. Although we’ve never met I’ve been told Flinn and Lewis are fairly unassuming guys. They’re perfectly comfortable sharing credit for Chives’ success with their staff. One line in the restaurant’s own description bears this out. “There are many faces behind the food at Chives.”

In 1996 Craig Flinn worked briefly under TV chef, Michael Smith, at The Inn at Bay Fortune, PEI. After 4 years of apprenticeship throughout Europe and the United States Flinn opened Chives Canadian Bistro on Barrington St. in Halifax. Like many serious restaurants these days, there’s a strong emphasis on local food product at Chives. That’s not surprising given the cornucopia of vegetables, fruit, seafood, lamb, beef and other meats available in the land of blue tartan.

A former Captain in the Canadian Armed Forces, Chef Darren Lewis opted for a culinary career in 1995. Before joining Craig Flinn at Chives he studied at the Culinary Institute of Canada and completed the Culinary Enhancement Program (18 months) with Walt Disney World Resorts. According to our server, Chef Lewis’s culinary philosophy and cooking style are practically indistinguishable from Chef Flinn’s. This makes for stable partnerships and consistent product from Chives.

Rooms
Chives has a couple of private spaces. The largest is on your right as you enter. It can accommodate up to twenty people. There’s also a bank vault that doubles as a wine cellar and dining area for two to four people. But it’s the main floor that I’d choose every time. It has banquette seating along one side, wooden plank flooring, tables dressed in white napkins and smart stainless flatware. A long bar trimmed in stone has a blind at its end of stained glass featuring a colourful strawberry, maple leaf, blueberry and lobster. The Chives logo is prominent at centre.

Our meal began with a basket of buttermilk biscuits, fresh from the oven. The light, airy, yet not insubstantial treats went well with the soup du jour – a cleverly conceived combination of parsnip, pork belly and orange. It was slightly orange in colour with some crispy pieces of pork belly floating in the middle. Very finely chopped chives, sprinkled over top, provided contrast and subtly promoted the restaurant’s name. Flavours from each ingredient had been perfectly incorporated in the soup. It was a fall and winter dish, glorious to taste and extremely satisfying.

By now I was beginning to notice the ambiance of Chives Canadian Bistro. Rarely have I dined in an atmosphere that felt so right. Diners seemed to come from every generation and walk of life and every table seemed to be enjoying a positive experience. The décor played a part but major credit must go to the wait staff and kitchen staff. Although the kitchen appeared to be just off the dining room it was very quiet. That’s always a good sign. It means the pressure is not too high and that each team member is getting on with the job at hand. Every course arrived on time and on heated plates.

Charcuterie
The Chives charcuterie board was a wonderful arrangement of chicken liver pâté, rillettes of duck confit, duck prosciutto, country pork terrine and pickles. This was served with a grainy mustard and crunchy slices of baguette. It was an outstanding charcuterie board for flavour, texture and freshness. The acetic quality of the preserved vegetables – cauliflower, carrots and peppers – was essential to enhancing the enjoyment of the meats.

A rectangular plate arrived with four pan-roasted sea scallops in a neat row. The remainder of the plate was decorated with a lively arrangement of pickled heirloom beets, spiced pecans, creamy goat’s cheese, baby beet greens, and a drizzle of honey buttermilk dressing. At first I thought this one was a little over-the-top, especially the spicy pecans; but overall it did achieve a certain harmony in flavour, if not texture.

Sans a clump of rocket (or arugula) plopped on top I thought Chives’ prosciutto wrapped haddock was a perfect dish. The milky white flesh was cooked exactly right and the balancing flavour of slightly salty, earthy prosciutto struck a pleasant chord. Then, to make it all sing, tomato and olive oil were introduced. A quite respectable al dente risotto added weight and texture.

Vegetarian Milanese

Golden dishes
Two golden fried dishes included a vegetarian Milanese and a crusted pork scaloppini. Both were quite good. I’m sure any vegetarian would love the idea of dressing a half-inch cutlet of firm tofu in breadcrumbs and Italian herbs and frying it in vegetable oil. This was served with a saffron risotto, tomato vinaigrette, candied hothouse tomatoes, sweet peas and olive tapenade. What’s not to like? The pork scaloppini was superbly moist, tender and flavourful – a carnivore’s equally confidant reply.

I enjoyed the cardamom-braised lamb with coconut, lentil rice pilaf, chana masala, beet, cucumber raita, cashews and tomato and onion chutney. Mind you, I would have enjoyed the dish more if the cardamom had been slightly less bitter. Just slightly.

At the other end of the spectrum a thoroughly sweet and creamy dessert concluded the meal. Called “peanut buster parfait” (apologies to Dairy Queen) it was several scoops of homemade peanut butter ice cream topped with peanut pieces and tiny squares of flourless chocolate cake. Finally, caramel sauce was poured over all. Could there have been a better ending to our meal? I don’t think so. I strongly recommend Chives Canadian Bistro the next time you’re in Halifax.

Rating:
****
Price: Dinner for two with wine, tax and gratuity – $160 (approx.)

Sound Level: Moderate

Wheelchair access: No

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Portion of Rumpelstiltskin's interior

The last time I dined at Rumpelstiltskin’s was in 2009. Michel Autexier (who was a chef in a former life) was maître d’ and manager of front-of-house operations. He still is and I suspect his steady hand has been one reason the restaurant is consistently good in many areas. Rumpelstiltskin’s chef in 2009 was Shawn White. He left a few years ago and was replaced by three cooks. They appear to be doing a solid job.

It was Sunday lunch and I was in a party of four. Not surprisingly Rumpelstiltskin’s was packed. The food has always been decent, the prices very fair and service good. And, the space is reasonably attractive with a friendly atmosphere and buzz. The décor has been changed since I was last there, and for the better.

Lots of light coloured stone has been added to walls and columns, new earthy shades prevail in upholstered booths and fixtures, like the antique design pendant hexagonal lanterns hanging in the area nearest the windows – windows that provide a splendid view of the harbour. Individual tables now have sturdy black leather seats.

Three words
In my first scan of Rumpelstiltskin’s Saturday and Sunday brunch menu I noticed three very ordinary words that individually would not have raised a flag with me. However, in succession, they set off a bell in my head – indeed a memory of an intemperate e-mail I received from restaurateur Paul Merlo a few years ago.

The words, “fresh fruit cup” reminded me of Merlo’s reaction to my review of his Torbay Rd. Press and Bean. I pointed out that the fresh fruit cup advertised on his menu was, in fact, mostly bottled fruit. What really troubled me about Merlo’s reaction was his contention that it’s almost impossible to get fresh fruit here on a regular basis. He even embellished that surprising statement with the bromide, “We live in New-found-land, not Disneyland.”

Wait a minute, what’s that I hear? Yes, yes I thought so. It’s all of you readers saying, “What the heck is he talking about? Of course we can get fresh fruit here on a regular basis.” A visit to any supermarket can confirm that fact. And, by the way, if Merlo was talking about it being difficult for “restaurants” to procure fresh fruit in St. John’s on a daily basis, I have one word for you sir…Cora’s. They put fresh fruit on everything, all the time, even when you don’t want it.

Slightly puzzled
Back to Rumpelstiltskin’s; I asked our server if the fruit in the “fresh fruit cup” was in fact fresh. She looked slightly puzzled, as if not quite understanding my question. She began talking about how it was in a cup, and it was fresh, but it was in a cocktail. (I think she meant cocktail liquid or syrup perhaps.) It was this and it was that. I found her answer confusing, but she did appear to be totally sincere and trying.

Finally I said, “Is the fruit actually cut up in your kitchen and put in a bowl?”

That’s when the penny dropped. She replied, “No, it comes in a tub from Cysco.” (Cysco sells processed foods that allow restaurants to cut back on labour.) So, my question is, why call this stuff “fresh fruit” on a menu? Has the term been co-opted to mean bottled, canned, tubbed, preserved, dried or powdered? Personally, I’ve always been under the impression that fresh fruit meant fruit that had come – with possibly an intervening plane or truck ride – pretty much straight from the orchard or field.

I’m not questioning a restaurant’s decision to sell tubbed, canned or bottled fruit. That’s a business decision and more power to them. I’ll never order it because I don’t think it tastes like fruit – never mind fresh – and I don’t like it. But it is misleading to call it fresh fruit on a menu. That is simply wrong; and Rumpelstiltskins and every other restaurant doing it should stop. Call it a fruit cup. Period. We wouldn’t think of calling fish that was frozen (or tinned or dried) fresh. So why should fruit be any different?

It was about 12:30 in the afternoon when we walked into Rumpelstiltskin’s. Instead of lunch they were doing brunch. No worries I thought. Since the word “brunch” is a combination of the words breakfast and lunch, I assumed the menu would reflect that. It didn’t. Rumpelstilskin’s Saturday and Sunday brunch menu is really a straightforward breakfast menu. I really wanted some lunchy offerings as I’d already had my breakfast.

Brunch steak and eggs

There were four of us and what we ordered pretty much spanned the various categories of food offered on Rumpelstiltskin’s brunch menu. I had the steak and eggs: a medium rare striploin, two fried eggs over easy and hash browns. The steak and eggs were perfectly cooked and delicious. This was impressive because so many cooks screw this up. (Never underestimate the skill required to properly cook a fried egg and get a steak exactly the way a customer wants it.) My buttered brown toast helped mop up the beautifully soft, sunshine yellow egg yokes. The hash browns tasted like the frozen ones available in supermarkets. They’d simply been taken from a bag and deep-fried. There was no seasoning to speak of.

Two at our table had the breakfast called Rumpelstiltskin’s. There was no spun gold involved, just more golden egg yokes. This breakfast offered a choice of bacon, ham or sausage, eggs your way and hash browns. The bacon was crispy, the fried ham not too salty and the hash browns, as previously described. Again, the eggs, two soft boiled and two over easy came exactly the way they should have.

Rumpelstiltskin’s western breakfast skillet was a combination of eggs scrambled with ham, onions, green peppers and cheese. It was a stick-to-your-ribs affair, nicely done but a tad too cheesy. The accompaniments were the usual hash browns, toast, coffee or tea. Our coffee was replenished frequently by our servers who, as well as the cooks, did their jobs well.

For an affordable and satisfying weekend breakfast in pleasant surroundings I recommend Rumpelstiltskin’s. I do advise you make a reservation.

Rating:
**
Price: Brunch for four with tax and gratuity – $60 (approx.)

Sound Level: Moderate

Wheelchair access: Main floor area only

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Published in Weekend Telegram, Mar. 24

Shanghai
210 Water St.
Ph. 753-2378

A lot of sit-down Chinese restaurants in St. John’s are mom and pop operations. Most have good food but provide little in the way of décor or atmosphere. Even the ones considered to be at the higher end of the dining out scale haven’t quite, as the Jimmy Webb song goes, “made the pieces fit.” One that did is Shanghai.

Back in 2007 Yuan Xu and his wife Wan Cao bumped things up in the décor and atmosphere departments when they opened Shanghai at 210 Water St. – it’s located at just about the midway point on Water St. Visually, Shanghai is a real treat. It’s the best-looking Chinese restaurant in St. John’s and one of the best-looking restaurants in the city.   

Two dining rooms – divided by a bar area – offer different seating, décor and atmosphere but both are vibrant, relaxing spaces. As you enter from Water St. it’s the smaller room that welcomes with a burst of whites and reds. The walls are red and the booths lining the east wall are optimistically white. If booths could swagger, Shanghai’s would.

Fancy
The larger room is raised with tables for two, four and six. Tables are dressed in classic bright, white, crisp cotton. Napkins are fancy folded – in a manner that would even pass muster with Queen Elizabeth II. Chairs are high backed and upholstered in black leather. And they’re heavy. I dare say you could anchor a small ship with one.

Hardwood floors blend with hardwood wainscoted walls. In some areas the wood extends to form filigreed frames surrounding bright, large, colour saturated photographs of Shanghai at dusk. They’re strikingly effective. Remaining wall areas are painted in a bright red that looks more lacquered than glossy. Red is a lucky colour in China. The Chinese also believe it casts out ghosts. No doubt Water St. has more than a few.

Yuan Xu and Wan Cao have been in the restaurant business for a number of years and have a track record worth boasting about. The thousands of shoppers who descend daily on Stavanger and environs, like Old Testament locusts, will be familiar with Yuan and Cao’s second restaurant called Bird’s Nest. Turning on Stavanger from Torbay Road, it’s located in a strip mall to your right before you reach the lights. Bird’s Nest specializes in popular Chinese buffet dishes, and, from noon to 3 p.m. on weekends, in dim sum.

Snow day
It was a snow day when I had dinner at Shanghai. Unfortunately, because we’ve all gotten a bit wimpy about snow in St. John’s, there wasn’t much happening in downtown restaurants – even though streets and sidewalks had been cleared. Much to the chagrin of the owners, Shanghai had been deserted for two nights in a row: the first due to frightened anticipation of weather Armageddon, and the second due to aftermath fear.

Since regular staff had been given the night off it was Yuan and Wan who ended up doing the hosting, serving, cooking (that was Wan Cao) and washing up. We launched our meal with a few items from the dim sum section of the menu: Shanghai dumplings filled with pork and sprinkled with chopped chives, and steamed, BBQ pork buns.

The dumplings arrived on a plate looking like a flotilla of miniature tall ships heading for port in a rainstorm of chopped chives. (Sorry, I just watched Master and Commander.) They were sufficiently plump, porky, seasoned and fatty. The richness of the parcels was deliciously punctured by what I thought was a very pleasing combination of vinegar and soy sauce.  I don’t think the BBQ pork bun casing had had even a passing acquaintance with any kind of fat – animal, oil or otherwise. 

Marshmallow puffy
The buns were marshmallow puffy and lovely. Even the filling had a definite “heart healthy” quality to it. It was on the sweet side – fruity with the texture of cooked dates. My friend Linda would have been happier if, like the dumplings, some sort of moistening agent had accompanied them. Knowing Linda, she would have settled for a good slather of melting butter. (So much for heart healthy.)

After some very conventional spring rolls we tucked into a couple of seafood dishes. The most adventurous of these was the baby octopus in a spicy, smoky, slightly tart sauce. The dish was different than I was expecting. I liked the sauce in which the little creatures were nestled, but the problem for me was the octopus. They had been boiled rather than fried and unlike other octopi I’ve enjoyed – all tentacles, no head – these were all head, no tentacles (or, stunted tentacles at least.) A slightly fishy taste pretty much sealed their fate as far as I was concerned.

The Singapore style vermicelli with shrimp and BBQ pork was better but it had less interesting seasoning. I also thought a total of four crustaceans and four short strips of pork was meagre considering the price ($16.) A marginally better dish I thought was the bean curd with Chinese mushrooms and vegetables – at least it had more flavours and textures. The tofu – fried until golden – was that wonderful type that springs back ever so slightly as you bite into it.

Blunt
The Chinese aromatic curried chicken was not as aromatic as I would have liked. A curry must taste of lots of freshly crackled spices. The flavours should be deep and intense. Shanghai’s was adequate but awkward and blunt. The greatest pleasure I took from the entire meal at Shanghai was an unexpected one – a dish of lamb.

Shanghai's lamb dish

I love lamb and didn’t hesitate to order Shanghai’s sautéed garlic lamb. Lamb is not a product that readily comes to mind in any discussion of the multitude of cuisines that inhabit that great country. Yet, in an area north of Beijing, straight up to the even colder Siberian border, lamb, wheat and potatoes are staples of these northern people. Their cuisine is called “Dongbei.” Several Dongbei restaurants currently operate in New York City, established by entrepreneurs from that region of China.

Dongbei cuisine requires lamb to be highly flavoured with garlic, cumin and other flavourings. They also serve it with vinegar. Shanghai’s treatment also involved lots of garlic and seasonings – including herbs. It came in an intensely rich, dark, mildly sweet sauce. Garlic permeated. The lamb retained its own unique flavours but benefited greatly from the flavours of the sauce. The thin strips of lamb, of which there were plenty, were incredibly tender. The trip out was worth it just for this dish. If you enjoy lamb, order it.

Rating:
**
Price: Dinner for three plus tax and gratuity – $120 (approx.)

Sound Level: Low to moderate

Wheelchair Access: No

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Published in The Weekend Telegram, Mar. 17, 2012

ByKarl Wells                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Clancy’s
106 Airport Rd.
Ph. 753-3500

Clancy’s is located in the Comfort Inn near St. John’s International Airport. It’s just off the puffed up, chandeliered lobby – that seems a tad at odds with a low rates inn – to the right as you enter. The restaurant’s design is a decorator’s idea of what an upscale Irish or British pub might look like. It is the opposite of airy. Clancy’s has lots of walled off areas, the odd nook, and quiet booths on two levels. It’s the perfect spot for a secret rendezvous or assignation.

I’ve reviewed Clancy’s a few times in the past and found it to be a reasonably good restaurant with a menu that always held a few happy surprises. For example, in 2009 I enjoyed caper and onion topped smoked Atlantic salmon there. In 2010 I raved about their Thai noodles in broth that featured “diced chicken, peppers, scallions and almonds simmered in flavourful broth.” Alas, neither item is on the current Clancy’s menu, or anything as interesting. I was also sad to see that Clancy’s has abandoned the practice of designating certain menu items as “heart healthy.” I’ve always found it helpful to zone in on those, if that’s the kind of food I’m looking for.

Beefeater
Clancy’s onion rings were described as “beefeater” onion rings. Despite the weighty adjective, they were not thick cut or specially seasoned as advertised. They were made from big onions and I found them to be very crisp and enjoyable. Whoever made them has learned a thing or two about deep-frying. We also had, from the good but not-so-good-for-you department, Buffalo wings. One pound of wings smeared in a peppery red sauce tasting of woodsy tomato arrived swaddled in waxy paper. They were the messy kind with a high risk of staining your shirt, but finger bowls were provided. The wings were definitely more-ish. 

The spinach salad was labelled, Clancy’s Signature Spinach Salad. At $11 it was a bit of a letdown. When I saw it had been given a special name I thought the salad would be much more interesting than it was. Very fresh spinach leaves came with cubes of mozzarella and – surprisingly – about 4 or 5 narrow strips of processed chicken breast on top. The cheese looked like it had been tossed in some sort of vinaigrette. A ramekin of very thick blueberry sauce rested on the lip of the bowl. Presumably you could either dip the salad ingredients into it or arrange globby daubs of it over the salad on your own. The spinach was fine. The mozzarella was fine. I’m not a fan of processed chicken and I can think of better ways to use blueberries. So, how did I feel overall about Clancy’s signature salad? Peggy Lee used to sing a song that went, “Is that all there is?”  I’d say that pretty much sums up how I felt about the salad.

Very white
I felt much better about paying $9 for a large bowl of Clancy’s old-fashioned Newfoundland cod chowder. It was very white – white fish, white cream, white potatoes. A garnish of a different colour would have done wonders for presentation. More importantly, with the exception of the undercooked potatoes, it tasted delicious. There was plenty of cod and the fish was fresh. Pity about the spuds. Otherwise, it was first class all the way.

Clancy's fisherman's platter

Clancy’s has a modest wine list but there’s enough selection to satisfy most, (unless you’re one of those people who’ll only drink wine that retails at NLC for $25 and up.) They have a decent Hardy’s chardonnay at $6.75 per glass and an even better Mondavi Woodbridge sauvignon blanc by the bottle at $38. For red lovers they have a good Trapiche oak cask cabernet sauvignon at $6.75 per glass and a respectable Peter Lehmann shiraz by the bottle at $38. Obviously, Clancy’s wine list offers more, but those are ones I’d choose. You may have different tastes. 

Clancy’s fisherman’s platter at $25 offered grilled shrimp, scallops and salmon, as well as pan-fried cod, cod tongues and scrunchions. Kudos must go to the cook for doing an excellent job in preparing most of the seafood. Unfortunately, the piece of salmon was overcooked. More than that, while the presentation side (the visible side) of the salmon looked good, a quick flip revealed that underneath it had been burned. There were grill marks resembling charcoal on the underside of the fish. I find it mind boggling that this would be served, especially when someone is “paying” for it.

Shrunken
I had Clancy’s honey barbecued quarter chicken, supposedly slow roasted and basted. When I saw it I wished I had stopped by the supermarket for one of their lovely fresh cooked ones. Clancy’s quarter chicken at $13 looked shrunken, tight and dry. The meat lacked moisture, flavour and acceptable texture. I could only eat a small portion of it.
The vegetable mixture on the plate: carrot, turnip, broccoli and French fries were properly cooked but it didn’t make up for the major disappointment of the chicken. 

Service at Clancy’s, as usual, was very good. The restaurant has a great group of men and women working front of house. Some of them have been there many years and the experience shows. I would make one recommendation. When a customer leaves almost all of his barbecued chicken on the plate and says he could not eat it because it was too dry and not very good, an effort should be made to make amends. I believe it’s necessary to make an adjustment to a customer’s bill when such a mistake is made. Otherwise, the likelihood of the customer returning is very remote indeed.

Generally, I believe Clancy’s do a good job with soups, sandwiches and pan-fried seafood. I’m told that’s what most of their customers order and that’s what they keeping going back for. You’re on safe ground if that’s what you order.

Rating:
*
Price: Dinner for two with wine, tax and gratuity – $110 (approx.)

Sound Level: Moderate

Wheelchair Access: Only on lower level

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Published in The Telegram, March 10, 2012

Dining Out
Karl Wells

Magnum and Steins
329 Duckworth St.
Ph. 576-6500

I love checking out new restaurants. Magnum and Steins isn’t a new restaurant but recently it moved to a new building. I dined there the other evening; and from what I saw, heard and tasted, it is a new restaurant. Oh it may still be called Magnum and Steins, and it may still serve some of the same dishes – namely a very good Mediterranean fish soup – but for all intents and purposes, Magnum and Steins is a new restaurant. And to that I say, bravo!

Magnum and Steins is now part of what’s called the Duckworth Hotel at 329 Duckworth St. Owners, Bernie and Denise Fowler previously operated a B & B at the location. Having added extra hotel rooms, and Magnum and Steins, the building qualifies as a full-fledged hotel. Because of its proximity to the courthouse – just west of the courthouse entrance – I suspect that in an earlier, quieter life the building housed law chambers. Now, instead of being home to dusty reference books filled with turgid legal language, and lawyers who spend much of their time combing those volumes for particular articles or terms, 329 Duckworth is filled with beautifully cooked food, wine, and people having a darn good time. (By the way, I’m not saying lawyers don’t know how to have a good time. Once they’ve managed to loosen up a bit I’ve seen one or two who were the life of the party.)

When walking into the new Magnum and Steins instead of eyeing Phil the bartender standing proudly behind his long bar, you’ll now find a maitre d’ stand in a long hallway, with rooms to the left and right, and stairs leading upstairs – to hotel rooms – and below stairs, to bar, wine cellar, and kitchen. The bar is on your right at the very bottom. It’s a cosy room with an L shaped bar and stools in the corner, and, of course, friendly Phil. Tables have replaced booths and the Magnum and Steins bar now features its own unique menu. It serves items like oysters, duck confit nachos, ribs, and bangers and mash starring, chorizo sausage. Opposite the bar is a brand new, well lit, state-of-the-art kitchen. Chef Chris Chafe must be overjoyed with his new digs. Magnum and Steins previous kitchen was a little cramped, to say the least.

Décor and more
The main floor of Magnum and Steins features the restaurant’s dining room – on the left as you enter the building – and a smaller private room. The dining room is spacious. I’d guess it accommodates about fifty or sixty people comfortably. Very stylish, transitional chandeliers provide most of the light in the darkly furnished room. Carpeting is subdued and the tables are covered in black cloth. Some colour and texture is provided by exposed brick on south and north walls, and by a few chimneys – with bricked over fireboxes. Most of the room’s colour comes from several large pieces of art dominated by the colour blue.

I was delighted to see the familiar, friendly face of server, Gillian Thorne. She used to be with a certain high-end restaurant in Portugal Cove. Their loss is most definitely Magnum and Steins’ gain. In Gillian’s care I knew our service would be brilliant and it was. Two of Gillian’s siblings also work at Magnum and Stein’s. Her brother tends bar and her sister is one of the sous chefs. Together these siblings make a trifecta for Magnum and Steins that bodes well for the future. The restaurant had already been on a bit of a winning streak lately. In November Magnum and Steins chef, Chris Chafe, won the silver medal at the Gold Medal Plates St. John’s event. His win made a big splash and put Chafe and Magnum and Steins in an even brighter, broader limelight.

I’ll give you a tip about ordering at Magnum and Steins. Keep an open mind until you hear about the chef’s daily specials. While there are familiar and interesting things on the printed menu, the daily specials add a different layer of colour and dimension. And, there will be a lot of specials. I counted five appetizers and three mains.

Magnum and Steins Mediterranean fish soup is as rich and wonderful as ever. It, by the way, is still offered as a special. Guest’s bowl contained the freshest ingredients. There was salmon, cod, mussels and shrimp. Dashes of sunny colour came from yellow, red, and green peppers, as well as red grape tomatoes. All of this was layered to resemble an exotic island in a sea of ocean-scented broth. 

Coconut scallops with gnocchi

Supreme scallops
Our table also enjoyed tender, ocean scallops coated in toasty coconut, served on a bed of crispy pancetta and pillowy gnocchi. Coating the gnocchi was an orange flavoured sauce enriched with butter. What looked like toasted pignoli nuts were sprinkled in for good measure. In my opinion the nuts were not needed. I might also have cut back on both the amount and intensity of the orange. Overall, however, I loved the flavours and textures of the dish.

The other appetizer containing seafood and pasta on our table was a hit too. It was tortellini filled with lobster and ricotta cheese – more lobster than cheese, which always delights. Another luxe buttery sauce accompanied, but, for crunch, this time chef added a few pecans. Chris Chafe seems to like working with textures as well as flavours. That’s a good thing.

My cod main was beautiful. The fish was cooked perfectly. Each layer of it slid apart in my mouth and broke silently and delicately against my tongue. There was a light coating of contrasting black and white sesame seeds too. In counterpoint to the mild cod flavour was a garlic-scented pesto that, if memory serves, also tasted of cilantro. For me, this was the best dish of the night – exquisitely fresh seafood, simply but expertly prepared and not ridiculously elaborated on. The accents, pesto and a bright fresh salad of mixed greens, were chosen with care and meant to complement the star of the plate, the cod. 

Winning plates
Our two final mains originated from four legged creatures. We had AAA beef striploin and a plate of duck. Magnum and Steins is known for its generous portions and, believe me, when it comes to their steaks they are. To be specific, they are thick, really thick. Again, the steak, as with the cod, was perfectly cooked and seasoned. It came with roasted potatoes, asparagus and onions and mushrooms in reduced pan juices. The duck was crisp at the edges but otherwise quite tender and flavourful. An herby sauce napped the breast, which had been sliced and fanned onto the plate. It was another winning dish in my opinion.  
 

Tropical sundae

I thought I couldn’t be more impressed with the scale of the improvements I’d observed at Magnum and Steins but there was one final surprise waiting for me. It was the incredible work of Magnum and Steins new pastry chef, Adam Stucky. Wow. It was such a joy to taste two of his dessert creations. First was the Magnum and Steins tropical fruit sundae. It featured a baked meringue sandwich filled with homemade coconut ice cream. This was carefully placed atop a slice of fresh pineapple. Then came, piping hot from the oven, a delicate, delicious croustade or tartlette – buttery and flaky – filled with banana and walnuts and an unctuous, sweet, creamy caramel sauce. If this wasn’t enough, there was an espresso cup on the plate filled with decadent white chocolate mousse!

Every few years a restaurant needs to change things up. It’s important for staff and customers. It keeps diners interested, and, frankly, staff on their toes. Eventually, the same old song doesn’t work anymore. Bernie and Denise Fowler, Chris Chafe and everyone working at Magnum and Steins have raised the bar in every category at this “new” version of their restaurant. They deserve to be recognized for that. For the first time, Magnum and Steins gets four stars.

Rating:
****
Price: Dinner for two with wine, tax and gratuity – $200 (approx.)

Sound Level: Moderate to slightly high

Wheelchair access: No

*Fair **Good ***Excellent ****Exceptional

Published in The Telegram, Mar. 3, 2012