Good food deserves a proper introduction and there’s no one on the food planet more charming, hilarious or perfect for the job than Massimo Bruno , a stocky Italian from Puglia whose cooking and talking both come from the heart. Continue reading “He talks, we eat”
My husband specializes in lunch. From Ossington to Greenwood, Eglinton to the Lakeshore, Don knows where to find the tastiest midday morsels this city has to offer. It could be pizza, tiropita, falafel or sushi. Today it is a butter chicken roti and a vegetable samosa at Gandhi Indian Cuisine (554 Queen St. W; 416-504-8155).
Despite his head-shaking declaration: “Not a pretty place, Mado!” I’m eager to see Gandhi’s dark, dingy hole-in-the-wallness for myself. Continue reading “Roti rendezvous”
If you live in Toronto, you have to really want dim sum to drive 40 minutes to get some. And it better be good. We’ve got Chinatowns galore in this city and it seems crazy to make the trek to Mississauga for the sake of a dumpling.
But today, my posse and I would not settle for less. So we drove west, far west, to Hurontario Street to the Emerald Chinese Restaurant (30 Eglinton Ave. W; 905-890-9338) where they wrap up their tall boulevard trees so strangely, they look like they belong on the storybook pages of Dr. Seuss. We were ready for anything and everything.
Emerald seats 400; serves dim sum daily; the selection is vast; and the prices are reasonable — if not astounding. Unlike most Chinese establishments, they even accept credit cards. There’s just one problem: weekends attract so many devotees to this har gau mecca that they hand out numbers and use a loudspeaker to manage the sorry (but eager) waiting sardines knocking elbows in the foyer. Continue reading “West side dim sum story”