Field Trip: The dreamy island of Aero

I was sitting on a bench in a park in Copenhagen when the elderly lady next to me struck up a conversation.  She was originally from Greece, she told me, but has lived in Copenhagen for over forty years.  “What brought you to Denmark?” I asked.  She told me to guess.

“Your husband?”

“Love would be the only reason to come here,” she said.  “I certainly didn’t come for the weather.”

To be fair, Denmark is pretty cold at the end of October, which wasn’t helped by the fact that it rained practically every day for the ten days my friend and I were there (not usual, the locals assured me).  But there are a myriad of reasons to go to Denmark, not the least of which is the Danes themselves.  I found them to be uniformly tall, stylish, and attractive; they are also some of the warmest, kindest, friendliest people I have ever come across (though if I were tall, stylish, and attractive, I’d be pretty pleased with the world too).  When I got a bit disoriented touring the endless rooms of Frederiksborg Palace, a security guard helpfully volunteered that she thought I had seen that wing already, and walked me to a different section.  When we travelled to the city of Aarhus to see the famous bog bodies, the owner of the apartment we rented told us to just leave the money on the counter on the day we were to leave.

            Another compelling reason would be the sleepy wind-swept island of Ærø, in southern Denmark.  We took the ferry across to Ærøskøbing, a 17^th century fishing town so perfectly preserved it looks fake, like something Walt Disney would build.  The twisting cobblestone streets are lined with crooked, half-timbered, Hobbit-sized houses painted in candy colours.  Affixed to some of the window frames are little “spy mirrors”, which enables residents to keep an eye on any drama and gossip fodder unfolding on the street without having to be gauchely obvious about it.

            We were welcomed to our bed and breakfast with tea and lacy oatmeal cookies.  

     The owner is a transplanted Brit who had the idiosyncrasy of being very particular about her eggs, laid by free range hens living in the back garden.  The first night there were only three other guests; we were awoken the next morning by loud talking and laughing coming from the couple next door.  My friend was not amused, but since we were up we dressed and went down to breakfast.  That couple were the only other occupants in the dining area, where we were to serve ourselves, buffet-style.  We asked the owner for more eggs, since there was only one left, and she said, “But I made five eggs for five people!” then turned and stared pointedly at the couple.  I tried to quash the raucous laughter in my head.

            We rented bikes to tour the island, first stopping at the bakery down the street to pick up some Danishes, or wienerbrød (translated as “Viennese bread”, as they supposedly originated in Vienna).  From the day of our arrival we had been waging a “A Danish A Day: No Danish Left Behind” campaign.  Wienerbrød are nothing like the sickly sweet North American version.  They are lighter, flakier – basically happiness in pastry form. 

            We biked past many U-shaped farms, with three walls surrounding a courtyard of sorts.  Wind turbines lined the shores; Ærø, in contrast to its atmosphere of being frozen in time, is attempting to become completely energy self-sufficient.  We bought some apples from an unmanned stand on the side of the road, leaving the money in a basket.  We made a picnic of it in the churchyard of Tranderup Kirke, a 14^th century church with Viking ships hanging from the vaulted ceiling, rather than your usual candelabras.  My wienerbrød featured a marzipan filling and a poppy seed topping.  It was the best pastry I’ve ever had, and I am a bit of a pastry tramp.

            Afterward, we headed to the cliffs of Vodrup Klint, which descends in earthen steps down to the rugged beach.  I stood on a rock, lost myself in contemplation and gazed out over the grey wrinkled sea.

            And that is one of the greatest beauties of Ærø.  My vacation style is one of frenetic activity, sightseeing and shopping as fast as I can.  Ærø forced me – for two days, at least – to be still and surrender a little to the dreamy air of hushed melancholy.

I’m not kidding about the forced.  After about 7 pm, there is not much open in Ærøskøbing.  We got some groceries and had a supper of smoked salmon and rugbrød, a dark angular rye bread, spread with Danish blue cheese, and dreamed of the wienerbrøds we’d be eating tomorrow.

Hino: Where I Fell in Love with some Mollusks

We decided to check out Hino (1013 Wellington) just down the street from the tragically departed Vino del Mar.  Jon told me that it's a Japanese-esque restaurant, and had heard the owner just kind of opened whenever he felt like it.  We showed up on a Tuesday evening at 6 (happily, it was open that night) and were the first customers.

The place is not a total dive (anyone who has ever eaten in Chinatown has seen worse) though it helped that it was pretty dark; an open kitchen and bar spanned the back wall. 

The menu definitely runs towards Japanese fusion.  There were spicy crab rolls on the specials board but no sushi on the menu, which basically consisted of chicken, beef or seafood done with a variety of sauces - teriyaki, curry, garlic.  Prices were really reasonable (appetizers range from $6-9, mains from $13-19).

We placed our orders, and the server brought out a basket of white grocery store-style bread with a couple pats of butter.  The outside pieces were dried out on one side, and I wondered why they even bothered with bread; they could replace it with something equally inexpensive but tastier.  Japanese rice crackers, maybe?

We shared the scallops in ginger sauce, off the specials board.

They were so good.  I know I will be thinking about them whenever I'm bored.  The scallops were soft and yielding and beautifully cooked, but it was the sauce that really made me swoon - tangy with a bit of a bite.  We nearly had a death match over the last scallop - or possibly just a brief Hungry Hippos duel, pistols at dawn style.  I started trying to lap up the rest of the sauce directly from the dish with my fork.  And that is when I became really thankful for the previously maligned bread. 

Unfortunately, after the mountaintop experience of the scallops, the mains were a bit of a let down.  They were fine, but not transcendent.  I had the miso chicken ($13):

and Jon had the shrimp curry ($14).

The curry didn't have any bite at all, which was surprising.  The miso sauce was sweeter than expected, almost with a teriyaki taste.

We could see the chef/owner cooking in the open kitchen at the back, and chatting with two guys eating at the bar - the four of us were the only customers.  The chef was joking (I hope) about selling the place, and the guys were placing bids - "$50!  $60!"  Jon yelled from our table, "$85!  And all the beer in the fridge!  Except Corona light". 

"I like Corona light," the chef said.

"Then we can totally do business together!"

The chef asked Jon, "Do you prefer Chinese or Japanese?"  After a brief, confused pause, he added, "Beer". 

"No, women," I said drily, and the guys at the bar started laughing.  The chef asked me if I was Japanese (I'm not, I'm Chinese, I said.  All the same, he replied) asked me my name (while hilariously ignoring Jon) and introduced himself as Terry.

"We're not dating, you can have her," Jon said benevolently, and we made our exit.

Field Trip: The Old Tavern at the Grafton Inn, Vermont

If you're even moderately fond of eating and fine scenery, Vermont is a great destination for a weekend away.  There's shopping, a cheese trail, cideries (cider slushies and donuts!), a tour of Ben and Jerry's complete with samples...if I haven't gotten you yet, you are not of woman born.  There are charming villages a plenty, with massive country stores selling everything from the delicious to the hilariously ridiculous.  We checked out Coolidge Homestead, where Calvin Coolidge lived from 1876 to 1887 (not recommended) and tried his favorite beverage, Moxie (also not recommended):

It tasted like a vile combination of ginger ale and black licorice, with accents of soap.  Dave, who is a huge fan of the word moxie, and works it into varied situations whether appropriate or not ("That girl has moxie!  Those hot air balloons are a sign of good moxie!") said, sadly, "I thought moxie would taste better".

Most charming of all was the historic village of Grafton, Vermont, which boasts a covered bridge and The Grafton Inn, which opened in 1801 and is one of the oldest operating inns in America.

Dave, Brandon Mir and I had dinner in their restaurant, which was very elegant but cozy:

Brandon:  It's like dining with the founding fathers!

All of their ingredients are locally sourced, from sustainable purveyors.  Dave had the fettuccine with roasted vegetables:

Dave: These vegetables are fresh and kissed by the Vermont sun.

Brandon:  Even the root vegetables.

Dave:  The plate is colourful, like the Vermont autumn foliage.  It's full of moxie, but not the bad beverage moxie.

Brandon had the lobster pie:

He pronounced it soupy and creamy, with a generous internal serving of lobster.

Mir had the rack of lamb with cheddar mash:

It was as expected, though there was a distinct lack of cheddar in the cheddar mash, more a hint o' cheddar.

All in all the food was solid, nothing earth shaking, but combined with the period atmosphere it still made for a great night.  Definitely recommended.

Cage Match #4: Black Cat vs. Taylor's Wine Bar

...wherein your humble blogger tries to answer the age-old question, "Is a burger ever worth $20?"  And *spoiler alert* the answer is a resounding yes.

Full confession:  the Black Cat (428 Preston) is one of my favorite restaurants in Ottawa, and I am a bit of a restaurant tramp.  I love the ambience - elegant without being pretentious or stuffy; I love the food - sometimes, when I have a moment, I'll daydream about their truffled chicken breast; I love that the executive chef is a young woman in an industry that is still very much dominated by men (Ottawa Magazine had a very interesting article on this topic here).

Every Tuesday the Black Cat features a different burger; Richard's burger (the owner) is also available Tuesday to Thursday.  The Tuesday we were there, the special burger was the Backyard BBQ burger which was topped with caramelized onions and a home made barbeque sauce on a house made onion brioche bun.  Richard's burger is topped with smoked bacon, sharp cheddar, pickles and "secret sauce".  The accompanying frites were infused with sage and served with a truffled mayo.  We ordered one of each.

Hello, Lover.

They were....awesome.  So juicy and saucy and flavourful; Jon and I immediately started swooning and waxing poetic.

Jon:  It's so good I want to cry.
Me:  This burger has made me happier than I've ever made anyone else happy.
Jon:  This burger makes me sad because it's better than me.
Me:  Go accomplish something so you can be worthy of this burger.
Jon:  I will never be worthy of this burger.  This burger is so good I'm sad it'll leave me tomorrow morning.
Me:  ....
Jon:  Too far?
Me:  Yes.

It was messy, we really violated their white starched linen napkins:

The frites were amazing as well, perfectly crisp on the outside with their infusion of sage, and as good as any I've had in Belgium.

Final score:

Jon: 10/10
Me: 10/10

Next up was the Genuine Burger at Taylor's Genuine Food and Wine Bar (1091 Bank St.) the sister restaurant to the Domus Cafe.  Their burger is available on the lunch menu; it's $16 and topped with Blackburn cheddar, pickles and lettuce on a Rideau Bakery bun, served with mixed greens and roasted potatoes.  It came accompanied by a sweet tomato chutney and garlic mayo.

It was a thick, juicy burger, the patty was pinkish in the middle; I really liked the sweetness of the tomato chutney in contrasty with the saltiness of the meat, which was seasoned.  As a whole, though, it didn't cause us to become slobbering sycophants.

Me:  It's good, but it doesn't make my heart sing.  More of a low level hum.  Or maybe a bit of scatting?
Jon:  Your heart wouldn't scat.
Me:  It's not funky enough?
Jon:  No.

The roasted potato spears were so-so, the salad was good but it's hard to swoon over mixed greens.

Final score:

Jon: 9/10
Me: 9/10

Pop-Up Madness: Matt Carmichael's Pop-Up Venture at Mello's Diner

I'm a big fan of the casual, unpretentious diner vibe, but I'm not always crazy about the greasy diner food (because working out sucks, y'all).  Luckily, thanks to Matt Carmichael - chef extraordinaire formerly of Eighteen, Social and Sidedoor - we can have the best of both worlds: fresh food made with quality ingredients served in awesome plastic booths.  Carmichael launched what I think is Ottawa's first pop-up restaurant Monday night at Mello's Diner on Dalhousie.  Pop-up restaurants are basically temporary restaurants using random spaces (a private home, former factory, and in this case, greasy spoon diner that has been around longer than Coronation Street).  I'm always up for trying new things; sometimes this works out (zip lining!) and sometimes not so much (the Ottawa Carleton Regional Plow Match!)  So Ariann, Brandon and I grabbed our umbrellas and headed down for the 6:00 pm seating.


Mello's was gussied up with flowers, candles, and new lighting (sparklier lightbulbs?)

The menu was short and pretty seafood heavy.

After we ordered, they brought out a complimentary bowl of bourbon caramel popcorn:

It had a lovely, smoky, burnt caramel flavour, though I do think it could have been improved with the addition of a little Maldon salt sprinkled on top.

Me:  It's Cracker Jacks, grown up!
Brandon:  I must say, I am disappointed with the declining quality of Cracker Jack prizes.
Me:  It's Cracker Jacks, gone posh!  It's Cracker Jacks that have left their trailer park, went to Harvard and now live on the Upper East Side!  It's...I'll stop now.

Next, we had the black tomato and mozzarella salad ($12) and the cod fish taco ($8)

These, too, were amazing.  The mozzarella in the salad had the consistency of marshmallows, soft and pillowy and melt in the mouth.  The cod fish in the taco was crisp in its light batter, topped with jalapenos and greens and a mayonnaise based sauce.  It was everything that my taco at Tacolot wasn't - namely, flavourful.

For the mains, we had the caramelized black cod with peas and morels ($22), which was served in a aluminum take-out container:

and the steak frites with peppercorn sauce ($22):

The cod, for me, was the hit of the night.  The fish was light and flaky, the sauce slightly sweet and the peas done al dente.  The steak frites, in contrast, were, as Brandon described, "deliciously average".  Cooked medium rare (the server didn't ask how we wanted the steak) it was a little on the chewy side; I would have liked the frites crispier though Brandon said he liked them mushy.

Ariann:  Everything else just slid down, then with the steak we had to... (*makes manic chewing motions*)
Me:  The steak is definitely not the road less travelled.  Not only is it not the road less travelled, it's a 400 level highway. Complete with Timmies.
Brandon:  (wistfully) It's a dream that never grew wings.

We tried the one dessert offering, a coconut caramel pot du creme:

I took more shots of our food that night than I have of various UNESCO World Heritage Sites around the globe.  The Imperial City in Hue, for example, got one shot.

I'm generally not a big fan of custard, but this was beautifully creamy but light, with caramelized banana chunks sprinkled with coconut cookie crumbles.

The Mello's pop-up will be running from Sunday to Wednesday, starting at 6:00 pm, for an indeterminate length of time.

Photos were taken by myself and Brandon.

Cage Match #3: Hintonburger vs. Baja Burger Hut (with a side of Tacolot and Suzy Q)

Up today: a heavyweight battle featuring the acclaimed Hintonburger vs. the 2011 winner CTV Ottawa's "Best Burger" contest, Baja Burger Shack.  Hintonburger has moved into the old KFC building on Wellington, and they've awesomely kept the bucket sign:

Does anyone remember Mike Myers' Colonel Sanders rant from So I Married and Axe Murderer - "Oh, I hated the Colonel with his wee beady eyes, and that smug look on his face.  "Oh, you're gonna buy my chicken!  Ohhhhhhh!!!"  Anyhow, we got the Hintonburger with fries ($8.75) which is a 6 oz bacon cheeseburger with their "signature BBQ sauce".  We asked for garlic sauce as well.

It's a good burger - moist but slightly charred on the outside, your classic barbeque burger.  In fact, it tasted just like a burger a friend would grill up for me at a backyard barbeque - a friend who really likes me, granted, but not really superior to that.  Jon agreed - good burger, but not great.

Scores:

Jon: 7.5/10
Me: 7.5/10

After sharing the burger we wandered over to the Tacolot, which we've been meaning to try for a while.

 Unfortunately, it was after 8 pm and they only had beef tacos left.  We got the platter (two tacos, rice, salad and fruit, $10):

There was melted cheddar cheese on the bottom, then pulled beef topped with chopped tomatoes, onions and cilantro.  The beef wasn't seasoned whatsoever - not even salt and pepper - and the whole thing was rather bland.  Other than the bit of cilantro, the vegetables weren't dressed with anything either.  The rice and beans were similarly tasteless.  Never having been to Mexico, I don't know if this is what authentic tacos are supposed to taste like; I've tried the tacos at Corazon de Maiz in the Market Mall and it was pretty, blandly similar, though at least there you had five different hot sauces to try.  Other than that, my experience with Mexican food is pretty limited.  The last time I was at an actual sit-down Mexican restaurant was years ago at Mexicali Rosa's on Clarence St. and it was wretched, as you might expect.  We gave our order, the server took away our menus and immediately brought out our (terrible) food, leading me to picture a bunch of dishes lined up in a row, waiting to be microwaved (as an aside, I went to use the washroom and didn't realize that Mexicali's shares their restrooms with Haveli next door, located off a common hallway.  I came out and picked the wrong door, and ended up in this Indian restaurant, thinking, What happened???!!!  Alas, I had not stumbled into an alternate dimension, my life is not that glamorous).

While we were waiting for the tacos, we went next door to Suzy Q's donuts, located in the Hintonburger's former home.  An employee (owner?) walked out holding this beauty:

Hello, lover

He told us they had closed at 8, but we were welcome to have this white chocolate raspberry donut.  Well, we wanted to be accommodating.  I've tried Suzy Q donuts before; I picked up a half dozen over Easter and  while I find their flavours creative - I enjoyed the margarita with lime glaze and salt - I thought the toppings were more delicious than the actual base donut (which did not vary between varieties).  The texture is airier and spongier than I like, and - dare I say it - a bit bland.

Baja Burger Shack is a concession stand located at Britannia Beach, and you can't really beat the view from the patio:

I guess the grass fringe makes it a tiki bar?  More hint o'Tiki.  Tiki light?  Memories of Tiki.  Okay, I'll stop now.  We ordered the Baja cheeseburger with fries and a bottle of water ($12.40 with taxes).

The patty was slightly pink, and while it was soft it wasn't mushy like the one at Vera's.  It was also moist and juicy and SEASONED and oh so lovely.  However...

Me:  The bun's really pale.
Jon:  It tastes pale.  And doughy.
Me:  It tastes like everything we've been indoctrinated about white bread in the past ten years rolled into one doughy bun.
Jon:  You have the soul of a poet.
Me:  You know what doesn't have soul?  Or poetry?  This bun.

So all that was separating this burger from greatness was a better bun.  The fries were okay; I personally prefer my fries a bit crispier, though the portion was pretty generous.

Scores:

Jon:  8/10
Me: 8.5/10