DON DAY

Review

Korean for ‘pay day’ (or at least according to my Korean coworker), Don Day is a tiny hole in the wall on 9th street and 7th ave, in downtown Calgary.

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Literally a hole in a wall.

The restaurant is TINY, furniture is made from empty storage containers, and most of the signs in the store are in Korean so foreigners are shit out of luck (the waitress understands numbers and furious pointing).

But…

Something I look out for when going to ethnic restaurants is the clientele. As a rule of thumb, if a Chinese restaurant is filled with Chinese people, they probably have more authentic Chinese food.

In our case, my companion and I were the only non-Koreans in the restaurant.

Lets see if my hypothesis holds true.


We ordered what the other restaurant patrons ordered, and ended up with an enormous metal wok brimming with bright red soup and a mountain of pork bones (creatively named spicy pork bone soup).

It’s placed on top of a propane stove on your table, you stir the soup to mix the spices and make sure the (pre-stewed) bones are mostly submerged, and then you wait.

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Hngghh….

And wait…

And wait……

Luckily, we ordered a plate of spicy pork and that came out while the soup was coming to a boil.

The pork was nicely seasoned, and tasted very…Korean. I’m not just tossing words around here either. Korean red pepper, red pepper paste, onions, sesame seeds, sugar and onions make up the majority of the seasoning for the sliced pork. Mostly sweet, with a bit of spicy. Together with the slightly fatty pork, I can’t think of a better way to eat onions (which there were a lot of).

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It’s mostly onions though.

While we were distracted by the k-pop videos, creative furniture, bone disposal can, and clouds of soup fumes, our pork bone soup came to a boil.

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Bone disposal can and ladle.

And it was wonderful.

Looking at the color of the soup and the flecks of pepper, you would expect the dish to be spicy, but you’d also be wrong.

While it has a bit of a heat, it’s entirely tolerable and not at all overpowering.

The spices and flavoring in the soup are similar to the pork dish with the addition of scallions (cut into convenient 3-inch sections) and a ton of extra red and black pepper.

The cut of meat was from the spine of the animal, and the tiny muscles, tendons and ligaments had been stewed to the consistency of meat butter. Getting at the meat is a very hands-on process, as you need to separate vertebrae to tease out delicious morsels. My one complaint would be that the pork bones were somewhat bland (aside from the richness of the meat itself), but this is easily remedied by eating the pork with the flavorful broth.

For those looking for carbs, there’s half a potato floating somewhere in the bottom of the broth too. If you were wondering, it tastes like a boiled potato.


This place has character and it knows it.

The location is kinda sketchy, the restaurant is tiny, you’re going to end up smelling like spicy bone soup regardless of what you order, communication with the staff is going to be minimal, air conditioning is nonexistent, and the tables are all different degrees of stickiness.

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Good luck stupid gaijin

But none of that really matters.

The pricing is very reasonable, the people are friendly enough, and most importantly, the spicy pork bone soup is absolutely fucking delicious.

Don Day Korean Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

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CHARCUT

Review

Get it?

Char?

Cut?

Charcuterie?

All relevant, meat-related words.

You so clever, random restaurateur.


I was in Calgary a few weeks ago for work and finally got to catch up with an old friend from my fraternity days.

Since she works as an audit-grunt for a large accounting firm and needed to be back at work before her overseer notices that she slipped out of her shackles, we went to the restaurant right across the street.

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This place.

As the CHARCUT is in the heart of downtown Calgary, the clientèle were stereotypical, suited, middle aged, Caucasian men with the occasional schmuck going for the more casual plaid shirt and lumberjack beard combo. The restaurant is themed and decorated with its patrons in mind.

Glossy black surfaces, faux-vintage coca cola machines, long, phallic beer taps and exposed bricks and ventilation all served to remind the average customer of dank man-caves and corporate boardrooms.

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I should really blur out his face.

 


We ordered the CHARCUT board to start, with the duck poutine and bison brisket.

The CHARCUT board was generously piled with homemade mortadella, capicollo, cured jerky sticks and asiago. To be fair, I’m not often impressed by a board of cold cuts and mustard, but the novelty of house-made meats really set the charcuterie board apart from others. The mortadella was soft and buttery while the capicollo was adequately spicy. I thought the jerky sticks were a bit too salty, but that’s a low blow when describing salted/dried meat..

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Who actually eats deli meat and mustard on their own?

Oh, and the mustard remained completely unused, and pickles would have been a better choice as they would add a bit more texture to an otherwise homogenous dish.

On paper, it the poutine seemed like a winning combination.

Duck fat fries, gravy layered in between, with generous lumps of cheese curds scattered throughout.

In reality, the sodden pile of potatoes and salty grease were barely palatable. The fries were as limp as a whiskey chugging fratboy, and the only adjective I can think of for the gravy is …gloopy?

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Glooooop.

On the bright side, the little cast iron pan they served the poutine was positively adorable.

To finish it all off, we had the bison brisket with beech mushrooms and boar bacon.

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I like the use of brown.

The boar bacon was extra crispy and very good. Mushrooms were excellent. Potatoes had the consistency of watery tapioca pudding, and eating the brisket was like sticking my mouth on the ass end of a woodchipper.

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So. Fucking. Dry.

Verdict?

As you could see above, the plating, creativity and focus of the restaurant were all excellent, but for a restaurant focused on meat, I expected, well… better meat…

Question is, should you go?

To make this easier, I’ve graciously provided a checklist to help you decide.

Do you:

  • Idolize 60’s advertising executives
  • Use the phrase ‘touch base’ more than once a day
  • Drive a BMW
  • Have no sense of taste
  • Torture small animals in your spare time

If you answered yes to 3 or more of the above, you’d probably enjoy your visit.

 

Charcut Roast House Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Pfanntastic Pannenkoek Haus

Review

If I’ve learned anything from the countless professional development courses that I end up taking, it’s that sometimes you need to take a step out of your comfort zone.

That’s probably how I ended up having apple, cheese and onion pancakes for lunch.

Twice.


The Pfanntastic Pannenkoek Haus is not only magnificently named, it’s also located in a dingy-ass strip mall about two blocks away from Mount Royal University in Calgary.

Decked out in blue from top to bottom, the restaurant features quaint Dutch things like kissing dolls, the color blue, clogs, and a little sweet/cookie shop, featuring various forms of liquorice (ranging from almost edible to industrial-strength fertilizer).

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Various Dutch goods for sale.

 


Now the menu is comprised almost entirely of pancakes in one form or another. There’s some tamer ones like strawberry or cherry, but that’s no fun.

The waitress recommended the apple, onion, bacon and cheese from the more ‘experimental’ page in the menu, and the cheese, onion, potato and bacon just in case we didn’t like the first one.

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Dutch as fuuuuuuuuuck

Because I’m a basic bitch, we also ordered the black forest pancake.


The cheese, onion, potato and bacon pancake was…

Well..

Really, really good..

Seriously.

The cheese (a mixture of gouda and some other less important cheeses) formed a crispy crust on top of the pancake, sandwiching the slightly crunchy onions, potatoes and perfectly crisp bacon. A cup of sour cream accompanies this dish, and adds to the rustic, farm-house feel.

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Sometimes I get forgetful when I’m hungry.

The waitress suggested we try it with ‘Schenkstroop’, which, upon further research, turns out to be the original pancake syrup, from the company that invented syrup specifically suitable for pancakes and crepes.

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This stuff. Tastes good.

The version with apples was a bit less exciting, but still palatable. The apples, in my opinion, weren’t nearly tart enough, and were indistinguishable from the onions, bacon and cheese.

 

Our final conquest was the infamous Black Forest Pancake.

A 12-inch crepe, decked out with three scoops of ice cream, dollops of whipped cream, heaping mounds of stewed cherries and a chocolate shot glass full of kirschwasser (black cherry liqueur).

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Cherry and chocolate overkill.

To be honest, you really didn’t taste much of the crepe. Personally, the pancake acted as an edible cherry, whipped cream and ice cream delivery mechanism. The flavours were a bit ham-fisted and not subtle in the least, but if you’re ordering a plate of whipped cream and cherries, I’m not sure what subtleties you’re expecting. Everything was bold and sweet and the only thing I could complain about was the sogginess of the pancake after I poured the kirsch.

But seriously, the problem involves a shot of liquor in a chocolate cup. I’m sure we can figure out some way to get rid of it without getting the pancake wet…

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Be creative.


Would I come back here on a regular basis?

Realistically, probably not (this would be difficult as I live three hours away), as I’d imagine the novelty of savoury, cheese covered pancakes would wear off in time.

BUT.

This doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t go. The pancakes are quite delicious, and more importantly, they’re a breath of fresh air in a world where our lunchtime options are limited to buffets, salad bars, and shitty chain restaurant burgers.

o (1)

That’ll be 28 dollars plus tax.

So there you have it.

A tiny glimmer of culture in the land of cows, canola, and dirty oil money.

 

Pfanntastic Pannenkoek Haus Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Muku – The BETTER Prairie Noodle Shop

Review

Now this one has been a long time coming.

For the past two and a half years, Muku has been my most-visited restaurant in Calgary. Either as a fuel-up on the way home to Edmonton from a ski or hiking trip, or for when I feel like some ramen that doesn’t taste of rotten fish.

A friend of mine introduced me to Muku (and probably the best ramen and topping combination on the menu) on a business trip a couple of years ago and I haven’t shut up about it since.

If you know me in person, we’ve probably been here together and you know exactly how I feel, but fuck that, let’s write a post anyways.


 

Upon first glance, Muku is nothing special. It’s nestled in a run-down corner of Kensington, sorta close to a Chicken on the Way. The parking lot is confusing, tiny, and old, and the building is nothing special either.

But then you walk in and something is a little bit different.

You probably won’t notice at first, but give it a few minutes.

Maybe when the staff come to bring you water or take your order.

Then suddenly it hits you.

Muku (a Japanese restaurant, if you’re slow on the uptake) is staffed by JAPANESE PEOPLE.

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These fuckers.

WHAT THE FUCK.

In Vancouver, all of the sushi places were inexplicably owned by Koreans, and in Alberta it’s generally a combination of other Asian races and weeaboos. Now I hate to bring race into this, but it needs to be mentioned. I’m not discriminating against other nationalities that own ramen shops, but if I wanted the cuisine of a particular country, I would most likely trust the restaurant owned by people of that nationality. They probably have more exposure to their own ethnic cuisine and they would know what constitutes a good dish.

Alright, enough rambling, onto the actual food.


 

My co-worker shared her favorite combination with me years ago and I still get the same thing to this day.

Here it is:

Tonkotsu Chashu Wonton Ramen, add extra pork belly, add se-abura.

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This is not it.

It’s a pork bone based broth, with pork shoulder, belly, wontons, extra pork belly and pork fat.

Now four of the items above are either pork fat or mostly comprised of pork fat, so this isn’t for the faint of heart.

However, this IS for those who want to take a spiritual trip to umami nirvana.

The broth is intensely savoury and leaves your mouth watering after the first sip. The broth leaves the buttery oil on your palate long after you’ve swallowed, and you’re left with a lingering, lip-smacking, meaty after-taste.

Noodles are perfect, if a bit on the firmer side, and the toppings are generally top notch. My one complaint would be that the shoulder is slightly on the drier side as it’s a lean cut, but the extra fat and pork belly are more than enough to make up for it.

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Fuck yessssssssss

Portions are fairly gigantic, and service is friendly and very non-intrusive (possibly due to language barriers. Don’t hate, just saying it as it is), and to top it off, you can get these little bags of fruity milk/yogurt candies.

What else is there.

Oh, if I really want to gripe, the chairs/tables are kinda dingy looking and the washroom is the size of gnat, but the purpose of a ramen shop is not for you to ogle the furniture or take really luxurious shits.


 

If you couldn’t tell already, I really, really like this place.

The food is honest and delicious, with large portions and a very fair price. The staff are efficient and friendly, the service fast, and the quality has been consistent for the last three years.

Chances are, you’ve probably heard me raving about this place, but if not, go check them out, it’s worth it.

Muku Japanese Ramen Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Avec Bistro

Review

French food is wonderful.

Liberal usage of fats, willingness to eat anything and a proud culinary history combine to make French cooking one of the “Three Grand Cuisines”.

Well, not really.

The official reasons are:

  • Presence of a royal kitchen – To produce a variety of complex dishes to please royalty
  • Long dynastic reign – Ensures the coherence and improvement of recipes over time
  • Availability of a variety of foodstuffs – Self explanatory

For the record, the other two are Chinese and Turkish (who would’ve guessed?).

Anyhow, point is, I love French (and Turkish and Chinese) food, and I actively seek out traditional French restaurants, which brings us to this review.


 

First off, the restaurant itself is very, very nice. Located on the ground floor of some forgettable grey office building, Avec Bistro makes wonderful use of its space.

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You so purdy.

Windows make up half of the walls, and the remaining surfaces are made of glassy black stone, towering curtains and vertical slats of wood. The restaurant is brightly lit, while still maintaining a cozy and intimate atmosphere.

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Seems to be missing something..

Seriously.

The place is pretty.

To add to the atmosphere, the restaurant was..

Completely..

Fucking..

Empty.

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If you look carefully, you can see Caroline losing hope in humanity.

We were there between 5:40 and 7:30 on a Wednesday night and had the honor of being the only customers in the restaurant.

But why?

Maybe the food will give us a clue.


 

The charcuterie was up first and didn’t make any lasting impressions. Not that there was anything glaringly wrong, it just didn’t amaze. The home-cured summer sausage was a bit too gamey for my taste, and the tiny little turd-shaped squirts of pâté didn’t really do it for me either.

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Look at the tiny little turdlets!

Honestly though, a board full of pre-prepared meats, pickles and bread isn’t a good indicator of culinary skill, so let’s talk about the mains.

I ordered the duck breast roulade with leeks, onions, cherry compote,and some black quinoa-like grain (it’s been like 2 months, I forgot…). The duck was cooked perfectly, and was tender, delicately savoury and came out of the pan with perfectly crisp and caramelized skin. However, by the time it got to the table, it was just a little bit soggy. The rest of the dish was well executed and mostly made sense. The tart cherry sauce paired perfectly with the duck, while the leeks and grains tasted like..leeks and grains.

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I think I may have eaten a piece.

My dessert, however, was perfection. The crème brûlée was technically sound, with a light vanilla custard and a crunchy, slightly burnt caramel disc. Topping it off was a delicious sugar cookie and some sort of edible flower. While not the most challenging dessert in terms of technical skill, this was executed perfectly and would give any Parisian bistro a run for its money.

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Yes please.


At the end of the day, the food wasn’t bad at all, the service was friendly and charming and the restaurant was beautifully decorated.

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I’m a bastard and took pictures of other peoples food..

If I wasn’t driving that day, I’m sure I would agree with the wine selection as well.

So what went wrong?

Well I’m not entirely sure.

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Sue me, I couldn’t help it..

If I were to take a guess, it’d be a sad case of trying to fit a classy, French peg into an uncultured, Calgarian hole.

Unfortunately, there just doesn’t seem to be a niche for traditional French food because everyone’s bandwagoning over tiny share plates of gluten free organic Asian-Canadian fusion.

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Thanks to Sean and Caroline for their patience 🙂

The next time you’re looking for a relaxing evening or a quiet, atmospheric date, try Avec Bistro. Sometimes it’s nice eating food you can recognize in a restaurant that doesn’t look like a shitty modern art installation.

Avec Bistro Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Model Milk

Review

I realized there’s a backlog of posts I need to write, and I want to justify spending exorbitant amounts of money on food again, so here we are.


Sometimes if you take 5 minutes and read the website, you can get an eerily accurate representation of the dining experience.

Choice excerpts:

  • “throw out all checklists, pre-conceptions and rules that govern what a “good” restaurant ought to be.”
  • “a restaurant where you can experience food that is both classic and original, both innovative and comforting.”
  • “quality local and regional products”
  • “natural, sustainable and responsible methods”
  • “organic, bio-dynamic and natural wine making”

Sure, your website is a means of advertising and you don’t want to sell yourself short, but this level of textual masturbation just reeks of self importance.

Pre-conceptions and rules that govern what a “good” restaurant are there for a fucking reason. I have pre-conceptions that the staff will be friendly, service prompt, and food edible.

Of course they’d cream their panties over the fact that they only serve local, natural, sustainable, responsible, organic, bio-dynamic products, but did they really need to share that with us?

What does this mean to the average consumer?

Next to nothing.

Local doesn’t mean better, regional delicacies exist for a reason and I highly doubt Albertan agriculture is known for anything other than grains, canola and cows.

Natural could mean literally anything. Everything we consume originates from the natural world.

What exactly is responsible food? What is it responsible for?

Bio-dynamic wines. Per wikipedia: “[Bio-Dynamic farming] treats soil fertility, plant growth, and livestock care as ecologically interrelated tasks emphasizing spiritual and mystical perspectives.

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Exactly what I imagined..

 

Sigh.

We get it, you need to set yourself apart from the other trendy, new-age establishments, but this is stupid.


 

We went on a Monday night right after work and the restaurant was understandably empty. The staff were friendly and attentive and smelled of arts majors and new-age spirituality.

When we weren’t ogling their trippy mandala-print leggings and 4 inch gauges,  we had the opportunity to check out the rest of the restaurant.

To be perfectly honest, the place was wonderfully decorated. I read somewhere that the space used to be some sort of milk bottling depot (hence the name), and it had been perfectly re-purposed into a dining space. Bare brick walls, faux-retro light fixtures, and a two-level layout with exposed kitchen combined to make the space unique and welcoming. If you’ve ever dreamed of that open-concept loft in New York with the bare bricks and exposed rafters, you’ll love this place.

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I should really blur out faces..

They get another point for having the dining area brightly lit. Nothing like being able to see what you’re eating.


 

The food?

Well, it was pretty damn good.

We started with the MM Beef Tartare and I ordered the “Ewe-nique Farms Lamb”.

The tartare was served with a creamy pistachio mixture, as well as blitzed romaine and horseradish sauces. No complaints on the texture or quality of the meat. The raw steak was combined with olive oil, raw egg and green onions to nullify the potentially bloody tang. The result was creamy, smooth and surprisingly heavy.

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Sauce drizzles uneven, 0/10, would not eat.

To accompany the tartare, we were given “seed bread”, which, to be honest, was horrible. Don’t get me wrong, I still ate it, but society has moved away from making bread from ancient grains and seeds for good reason. The bread was crumbly, had little to no gluten, and tasted like a bird feeder, wood and all.

There’s nothing wrong with a few slices of grilled baguette. Hell, you can tell people the profits go to support the liberation of trans-gendered Somalian child soldiers if it helps you sleep better, just don’t serve me hamster food.

The lamb, however, left little room for complaints. The protein was cooked to perfection, with the interior retaining the consistency of semi-melted butter. While I don’t generally advise the usage of root vegetables or other bland starches as seasoning agents, the root vegetable ‘jus’ added a buttery sweetness to the dish and tied the grain, lamb and turnip together with its earthy undertones.

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Looks sort of like Australia.

Even the turnip was well cooked, and the slightly charred exterior speaks to ancient cooking methods where root vegetables were buried under the ashy remains of the camp-fire and left to roast.

The most interesting thing on the plate was the mound of ‘kamut’. For the uninformed (gonna be honest, I Googled it), Kamut is an international brand and trademark for certain strains of Khorasan wheat. An ancient, middle-eastern wheat species, the crop grows well in arid environments, and is known for its unusually large grain, nutty flavor, and ‘moistness’.

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This stuff.

Having tried some, I would have to agree. While I can’t overlook the puddle of butter that it was served in, the grains themselves were rich and nutty, while maintaining a satisfying chewiness from the bran.

From the pictures, you probably wouldn’t expect the meal to be filling, but you’d be wrong.

While the individual portions were not large, they weren’t afraid to use heavy and greasy ingredients to fill you up. The tartare was smooth and creamy due to the liberal usage of olive oil and creams, while the jus and grains served with the lamb were saturated with butter.

This was actually quite clever, and allowed for high-fat content dishes, without having customers pass out mid-meal.


 

Beyond all the pomp, pretense and politically correct causes, Model Milk still delivers sufficiently technical, creative and delicious food.

Give them a try if you haven’t already.

If you can get past the hipster vibe and holier-than-thou attitude, you might just be in for a treat.

Model Milk Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Anju

Review

I was in Calgary for work a month ago and I took the opportunity to visit some of their “best” restaurants, as determined by the Avenue Top 10 List.

Since these restaurants have received significant amounts of praise for creative food, plating and service (and also charge a fucking fortune), they will be held to higher standards.

These are the memoirs of my experiences.


For those too lazy to Google for themselves:

Anju (Korean pronunciation: [andʑu]) is a general term for a Korean food consumed with alcohol.”

Few things bother me more than inexplicably/inappropriately named restaurants, so we’re off to a good start.

The restaurant itself is very nice, combining the modern “everything must be black” theme with more traditional Korean decorations.

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Fascinating.

By traditional Korean decorations, I mean the 4-5 ceramic jugs they had displayed in the front. The rest of the restaurant was honestly indistinguishable from a Cactus Club.


 

Service was prompt and friendly, without being intrusive. I like to touch on this as good service is very rarely noticed, but bad service can easily destroy your restaurant experience. In Anju’s case, the staff were attentive, knowledgeable about their food (nothing more embarrassing than not knowing what goes in your own dishes), and seemed to appear only when you need them.


 

The food was…

Interesting.

Most of our choices were based off staff recommendations, as we wanted the dishes that best represented the restaurant.

We started with the Spicy Salmon Tacos (Yuneo Tako if you want a gibberish Korean translation).

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The photos are shitty because I was starving..

While the fish was definitely fresh, and I appreciated the work that went into the avocado mousse, I just found the tacos to be just a bit cloying. The fish was mixed with an oily cream based sauce, and combined with the natural richness of the avocado and deep-fried wrappers, just seemed too heavy for a starter. The bright side is that you get decent sized portions, and this could easily double as a main.

Next up was the Tofu & Foie Gras Parfait. The menu mentioned that it was served with Korean Pear Black Pepper Jam, Pine Nuts and Toasted Brioche. The presentation was well done, with creative use of a bathroom tile as a plate.

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So pretty..

The actual parfait was very nice. The tofu and foie gras had been whipped/blended to a mousse-like consistency.

The “jam” was actually a small salad of pears and micro-greens. Don’t ask me why they called it a jam. The pear was raw, crisp and very sweet, with smaller/less noticeable sclereids. This did well to cut the richness of the parfait.

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-10 points for chipped tile.

What killed an otherwise pleasant dish was the inclusion of the brioche (the wait staff stressed that this was baked in-house). The bread was sliced thickly, buttered and turned into a sweet, chewy pulp when you bit into it. This completely overshadowed all of the other flavors on the plate, especially the light foie gras and tofu. A normal crouton/melba toast would have done much better.

Next up was the Roasted Bone Marrow (So Golsu Gui) with scallions.

This was probably the worst dish of the night. The bone marrow seemed a bit off, and was much grittier than expected. It also had a heavy metallic after-taste. I understand that there’s bound to be some blood in the marrow bones, but this was almost inedible. Honestly, it tasted like sucking back a nosebleed.

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The garnish is just so…flaccid…

To complete the dish, the chef included some brioche crostinis. I feel like my thoughts on the brioche are apparent by this point so I’ll leave it at that.

The last appetizer we ordered was the KFC sliders, which turned out to be a disappointment. The chicken itself was quite nice, with a sweet, spicy and sticky sauce and fatty dark meat. Once again, what killed the dish was the brioche.

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You would expect that the chicken would be the star of the dish, but the brioche over-powered everything on your palate with its starchy sweetness.

I’m no award winning chef, but the dish would be vastly improved with any other type of bread and maybe a pickle or two to cut through the oil.

Oh, the dish also came with some piping hot, lightly salted, kettle-chip style curried potato chips, which were absolutely fucking delicious.

To finish things off, we settled for a more traditional dish, and ordered the spicy seafood stew. While the ingredients were high quality, and the presentation was homely and pleasant, the stew just didn’t taste like it should.

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It’s hard to pinpoint what really went wrong here, but the stew lacked the depth of flavour you would normally associate with Korean home cooking. Maybe it was the toned-down spice levels? Lack of acidity? Or maybe the stew just wasn’t simmered for long enough for the flavours to meld.

Yeah, I think that’s it.

The shrimp were marinated in lime and garlic and were delicious on their own, but clashed with the rest of the bowl. The pork was fatty and perfectly cooked, but just tasted like boiled pork. The mussels were tiny, plump and fresh, but only managed to add a slightly bitter brininess to the soup, and the tofu tasted like nothing.

It’s a shame because it’s clear that the end product was so much less than the individual components that went into it?


 

One may read my post and think that I’m overwhelmingly against Anju, but honestly, I’m not.

The food, while not amazing, was passable, and I appreciated the thought and creativity that went behind every dish. The chef clearly loves his craft and makes the extra effort to improve his dishes, sometimes in ways that the customer may not even realize. I harped on the home-baked brioche, but it was a pretty good brioche, the only issue was that it was served with everything and drowned out the other, more important flavours.

Everything was technically sound and the presentations were spot on as well (with the exception of some limp onions on the marrow).

But above all, I’m glad I went to Anju because it provided an interesting insight in how traditional methods and recipes shouldn’t entirely be replaced by creativity and clever plating.

Anju Restaurant Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato