There's a new enclave that couldn't be more choice in my doctor's building across Bloor Street from the Conservatory building. It was inspired and launched by the pair who founded the no longer extant Bemelmans of eggs benedict fame.
My first adventure there in eating came when I ordered smoked trout salad. The concoction was mainly frizzy lettuce with traces of other lettuce shoots dressed up in crème fraîche laced with dill (champagne) vinegar and myriads of smoked trout bits. After awhile, I caught on there was something missing. I needed toast! The buttered, toasted baguette slices arrived quickly and I enjo-o-oy-ed! What a blast that was with a pitted Bing cherry coke.
By luck and luck alone, my keys had worked their way out of my pocket and I returned the very next day for dinner. After two drinks, I dined on slow-cooked, grain-fed, organic pork chop leaned against a mound of potato salad with herb tips mixed into its crème fraîche dressing. What a delectable meal with a dessert that was a selection of choices in itself.
Chocolate coffee "soil", a gritty, crunchy mixture, beside a wee ball of homemade raspberry ice cream sitting on the end of a small bar of finest, dense cake. On the other side of the bar of cake, a sweetened sworl of crème fraîche hid a judicious wedge of fresh plum. To die for...
Of course, the black coffee topped off the night... Dark but not bitter! I went home quite happy and had my keycard re-programmed the next day.
I'm looking forward to having another delectable morsel for late lunch on Tuesday or Wednesday. Won't you join me some day?