A good bowl of pho is a work of art. An addictive, delicious work of art, that I crave sometimes with the intensity of a crack addict needing a fix. Maybe that’s a hyperbole, but it feels very true nevertheless.  Over the holiday break I feasted on plenty of delicious foods including a roast goose, a leg of lamb, homemade egg nog, the best fruit punch in the world, and many other delicacies, and yet by the time this week rolled around I was craving a bowl of restorative pho with a scary intensity.

I am not alone in my love, there are many addicts roaming the streets looking for their next fix, so I’d like to tell you about the most amazing pho in Calgary. It’s served in a small nondescript restaurant in Chinatown, one of those ones you’ve been to many times, and the decor looks like a hundred other venerable establishments.  It’s located in a building that positively reeks of all manner of dried seafood, so you have to bravely cross that barrier before you get there, but never mind, it’s worth it.

A pho lives and dies by its broth, and Pho Hoai’s broth is a work of art. Rich, meaty, silky, it’s as close to ridiculously great as I’ve been able to find in our city. The soup will inevitably contain some noodles, your choice of meat, sliced onions and cilantro if you so desire (I don’t), and will come gilded with a huge plate of the freshest, largest basil you’ll ever see, a hot pepper or two, some lime wedges, and a large handful of bean sprouts to add some crunch. The rare meat slowly cooks in the hot broth as you swirl around the noodles and achieves a perfect tender texture.

And as you toss in a handful of sprouts and basil, and drizzle in some lime juice (or a metric ton, if you’re like me), and sip that rich broth that tastes like a spicy hug, you can’t help but feel that the universe must be a pretty benevolent place for something like this soup to exist.

5/5 

It’s time to get your drinking face on, and tie your bibs!

Fall is most definitely in the air, as our chilly weather and rain outside can attest, and one of the great things about fall is the return of the Rocky Mountain Food and Wine Festival!  I’ve gone the last two years, and had an absolute blast. See here for recap.

This year, courtesy of the wonderful PR team of the festival, I have a pair of tickets to give away to the Friday evening portion of the festivities (it also runs Saturday), so leave a comment if you’re interested to be entered to win.

Details:  Friday, October 14 (Calgary BMO Centre)

Hours: 4-10 pm

Notes: Tasting tickets purchased separately (0.50 ea)

Must be 18+ to attend, no minors allowed

See you there!

As I type this, it’s 12 C outside.

Yep, 12 in July.

While Toronto, Montreal and many other tracts of the country are literally cooking, we in our marvelous Calgary are enjoying a fall weather revival.

My friend just emailed me to say ‘Bet you’re glad you didn’t plant that garden now, hey?’  and in fact I am. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but two awful summers were enough for me to see which way the light in shining, (or not as is often the case in Calgary), and now I can sit back and enjoy every cold, windy, rainy day.

But cold or not, unpredictable or not, our summers are what we get, and what we make of them, so it was with great excitement that I took myself down to a fairly new BBQ shack off the beaten track.

Located in the industrial area, and housed in a revamped garage, Holy Smoke BBQ and Smokepit first opened to little fanfare with limited  hours, and immediately began to pick up local buzz. As their popularity grew they stayed open later and more, and shortly after their weekend hours came into effect I was there waving my napkin.

For some reason BBQ like Mexican food immediately craps out when it reaches the prairies. We have had any number of Mexican restaurants and BBQ joints try and fail in Calgary, and at best both could have been called ‘meh’. Some sort of invisible border stretches over the land this far north reducing greatly the taste and spirit of the food. Perhaps those fiery foods draw heavily on their landscape and terrain and become watered down when traveling to the land of snow and winds instead of the hotter, slower climates they originated in.

But Holy Smoke appears to be bucking the trend. You can smell the amazing, mouthwatering smoke as you approach the low building, and the few communal tables were full inside. They have a limited but good menu, and we sort of ordered one of each items, all the sides they hadn’t sold out of yet, and 25 BBQ ribs at a buck a piece. Ahem.

Hauling our bounty home, we proceeded to chow with abandon, pausing only to establish if a certain sauce goes better with a certain meat.

Here’s some photos from best to worst, worst being very very relative:

The pulled pork and the beef brisket – side by side – heavenly combo. Both of the sandwiches were fantastic. Soft, smoky meat, tender, flavorful and only enhanced by the solidly good dipping sauces. The buns held up to the meats well, and like a mother pretending she doesn’t have a favorite child, I’d be hard pressed to choose between them. Which is why you should always grab a friend and share.

The sides – we tried one of each that was available and the cornbread broke, so no photo. All the sides were nicely inoffensive. The macaroni salad and baked beans were pretty good – better than supermarket but not in the homemade category. The coleslaw avoided the uber-sweet mayonnaise dripping calorie-fest and was pretty decent but still too sweet for my tastes. My favorite was the broken cornbread – more of a sweet corn muffin than cornbread it was a lovely foil for the smoky meat. I wish I’d gotten another one.

Oddly enough the ribs were not as good as they looked. They were a bit shy of easy to pull off the bone, requiring some mastication skillz and membrane pulling, but worst of all they committed a cardinal meat sin – no salt. I’m sure they had SOME salt on them, but none that we could detect, so you had the odd combination of smoke, spices, and no salt.  Salt is some imperative to seasoning meat that there are reams of books on the subject, and every bite was an odd disappointment until we seasoned them ourselves, stuck ‘em in the oven to warm up, and enjoyed them for the next three days.  But it was not what stellar ribs should be like.

So overall  – I am thrilled Holy Smoke is here. They are head and shoulders above previous BBQ offerings Calgary’s had. Their sandwiches are works of art, their sides and sauces a fair addition to the meatfest, their ribs can use some work, and on their site Brunswick Stew has just appeared, which is on my food bucket list.

4.2/5

Holy Smoke BBQ and Smokepit

4640 Manhattan Rd SE

(403) 605-9365

Mon-Fri: 10-8

Sat: 11-4

I’ve quite a bit of stuff to blog about, but I could not find my camera to PC cord for a few weeks, and so had zero photos to show for the last while of activity. Just as I was about to order a new cord online, James found it somewhere in the basement where it found itself after a fit of zealous de-cluttering. And all was well in the world.

You ever do that? Clean so well that you never find something again? I swear three quarters of the battle in house cleaning is finding places to put stuff, and not just temporary out of sight solutions either, but proper homes for all the ‘stuff’ that finds its way into our homes. And I’m a pretty zealous thrower-outer - I regularly toss, recycle and donate all sorts of crap that we no longer need and aren’t sure where it came from in the first place.

Anyhow, the other day found me in the Mission area of Calgary, where I managed to hit up not only Cruffs, but Yann Haute Patisserie while waiting for my ride.  Cruffs was closer to my destination so I popped in there for a quick Cream Puff – because I love cream puffs. There is not much to the store -  the counter where magic happens and a row of bar stools facing the huge store window. 

The cream puffs come in two sizes – small and huge, and since I hardly eat sweets I got huge. You know, to compensate.  The shells are pre-baked and filled with cream filling to order – so you get a perfectly creamy treat with no sogginess.  I asked the genleman at the counter what his favorite flavor was, and went with the recommended hazelnut.

The puff was perfectly crispy and tasted pretty good - none of the fake shortening-like flavor you get with supermarket frozen cream puffs, but none of the elusive taste of fresh cream puffs baked with butter. The filling was perfectly balanced blend of creamy and hazelnut, and the whole thing disappeared alarmingly quickly. Then I got one to take home.  Verdict? Perfectly lovely but not craving inducing.

3.5/5

Cruffs

2312A – 4St SW 

Wandering just a bit further, you come to a lovely jolly yellow house off 4th street, and ascending up the steps you end up in a house-turned-bakery that quickly took Calgary by storm, quickly becoming known for their macarons and other baked goods.  And here I have a confession to make. As well as being a bit indifferent towards dessert, I am not the world’s biggest fan of macarons. I’ve tried them a few times, and they just don’t do anything for me. So I blew thirty bucks on other stuff, like the best baguette I’ve tried in Calgary:

And very tasty croissants:

And the piece de resistance – a chocolate/hazelnut beignet that could make you weep. It is so good they’ve been sold out every time I’ve been back. I wish they would hang a sign when they have them or triple the batches or something. On the other hand I’m sure my waistline thanks the rarity factor.

5/5

Yann Haute Patisserie

329 23AVE SW

Thanks to Groupon and similar discount sites, I’ve been to more restaurants faster, than I normally would, which has been wonderful, since going out to eat is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Since the number of restaurants in Calgary vastly exceeds my budget, it’s good to have an extra push towards something you’d visit one day anyhow, but it might take you a couple of years to get there under your own steam.  And thus it was that on a lovely Monday evening I took my mother for an early supper at Vero Bistro Moderne.

 Despite the ridiculous name (if you can say Moderne without sounding like an idiot… more power to you), the online reviews were mostly positive, and the menu looked like it had a good variety of dishes.  Since we got there at the super early hour of about 5:30 we were able to snag a lovely table nestled in front of a large window for good light and views of Kensington.  The red and black decor was lovely,  heavy napkins graced the tables, and small dishes of olive oil and balsamic were waiting for an excellent bread basket.

Since we’re both on a perpetual quest to NOT OVEREAT – a condition which happens with stunning ease for both of us, we decided to order two appetizers and one main dish to share.  We settled on an appetizer platter, the lobster bisque, and the 72 hour braised short rib. The first thing that I loved about the appetizer platter is the abundance. Too often the portions we see seem on the small side for the price – dwarfed by the large platters they’re served on. They force the hindbrain to go into a calculation mode, trying to equitably divide small bites into shareable pieces. This one had so many things piled on in abandon, that the calculating part of the brain relaxed, knowing there’s plenty to go around.  The second thing was quality – most of the bites went very well together and were fun to nibble on. From the sundried tomatoes, to the artichokes, to a lovely lentil salad, some cured meat, olives, spicy peppers, beets… it was a mélange of good flavors.

The lobster bisque was a bit disappointing. Although lovely to look at, under a puff pastry hat, it was a shade bitter, too smoky, and just flavored wrong. Like the pot scorched that day, and the bitter flavors permeated the soup. It badly needed some cream and a touch more lobster flavor rather than the smoked undertones that it had. It was edible, just not very good.

I chose the short rib dish knowing that my mother would enjoy it, and it did not disappoint. It was an amazingly rich dish, with flavors that worked like a symphony together.  The meat was fork tender, achieving that special unctuous texture that short ribs get, the sweet potato gnocchi were perfectly tender and added a hint of sweetness to the dish, the morels subtly perfumed everything, and the fried green onions added some savory crunch. It’s a magnificent, generous dish.

It was also a very filling dish, so we had no room for dessert and simply finished off dinner with a pot of tea. I highly recommend the tea that says something about apricot flavors, it was very good.  The place was starting to fill up as we were wrapping up, and we vacated our wee table full and happy.  Overall it’s an excellent addition to the Calgary dining scene, my mother was thrilled with the dinner, and we’ll definitely be back.

4.5/5

Vero Bistro Moderne

209, 10 ST NW 403-283-8988

This was my hood yesterday morning.  We got our typical April dump that comes right after the first few days of sunshine and spring, just to give us that kick in the pants that says don’t get too comfortable – this is Calgary.

Right before I left my last job, (the one that was moving to the States), I had the chance to grab lunch with a couple of my co-workers, and we walked over to Trader’s Grill at the Mariott Hotel.

The Grill is past its glory days – it used to occupy a bigger space on the second floor, with large windows overlooking the city, and served a good lunch buffet. Now it’s on the main floor, and is little more than a cafe with a bar.  It was mostly empty the entire lunch, perhaps a quarter of the tables were occupied. 

The menu is simple but very well thought out. There is a decent selection among all the main food groups, and the dishes are not boring. I am sick to death of the usual assortment of salads, sandwiches and steaks that comprise many lunch menus, and was glad to see something like an omelet, or short rib pasta, or baguette with boursin, or the chicken schnitzel which I incidentally ended up having.  Apparently they have excellent daily specials as well, which happened to be grilled cheese on the day we visited, and it would have to be a heck of a grilled cheese to beat my homemade one.

The food took a while to arrive given the lack of patrons, but when it arrived, it did not disappoint.  Just look at it!

The schnitzel was piping hot, with a crunchy, well seasoned breading, and the chicken inside was fork tender. The roasted taters were very good, the salad was lovely if a bit simple, and the grilled lemon was simply genius.  It was a superb meal on a chilly Calgary day.

It seems like more hotels are expanding their restaurants, and trumpeting about them on Twitter and blogs. The Mariott on the other hand seems to be heading in the opposite direction, which is a shame, as the food at Trader’s Grill is as good as some, and better than many lunch options in downtown Calgary.  I should also mention that I can see the appeal of the large windows in the summer, it would be great to people watch while lunching.

4/5

Trader’s Grill

Stephen Avenue
110 9 Ave SE
(403) 231-4503

This Sunday I my mother and I were running around doing some errands, and I persuaded her to stop at NOtabLE. It took a fair bit of persuading because she’s on a perpetual diet, and considers restaurants to be the height of frivolous spending and caloric damage.

But I had hunger on my side – the most potent ally, as well as the fact that it’s been a long time since our last foray, so we snagged a lovely table by the window at Notable, which I’d been wanting to check out since they opened.  We arrived shortly after brunch was over, and chose our selections from the lunch menu, starting with the excellent Phil and Sebastian Coffee.

My mother gave in to a carb craving with their pasta pappardelle with lamb bolognaise, and I sort of mixed and matched. I normally try not to do that in restaurants for many excellent reasons, but I really wanted to try the salmon belly with no desire to eat greens with it. So I got a side tomato salad, and a side of fries, because I heard they’re excellent fries.

The pappardelle was pretty darn good. The warm, slippery noodles were coated with a sheen of butter and just the right hint of salt and parsley that makes even plain noodles comforting. The bolognaise was well seasoned, redolent of lamb and garlic and the asiago gently tied everything together. A starter bowl is a perfect sized lunch.

My teriyaki glazed salmon belly was less well done. The teriyaki sauce was so thick that the salmon flavor really had to fight to shine through. Teriyaki is a pretty potent flavor and while salmon is strong enough to stand up to it, there is a limit to how much should be used. If the dish had half the sauce, or even a third, it would have been sublime instead of nearly overpowered.

The tomato salad had flavor due to locally grown tomatoes and a good balsamic dressing, of which again there was a tiny bit too much of.

The fries were great – crispy, salty, potato-ey, and I can see how they’d be amazing with roast chicken and its juices.

The highlight of the meal came with their unusual Stilton cheesecake.  I’m not the worlds biggest fan of blue cheese, but I do like the right one in small quantities, and it was intriguing enough to make me want to try it.  It’s served with rhubarb compote and raspberry coulis.

The first bite I didn’t get. The unexpectedness of Stilton on the palate is shocking, and for some reason the cold texture with the salt did not hit my tastebuds as expected. The second bite is when something connected between my tongue and brain, and suddenly it was a perfect combo – the gentle tang of Stilton, the mild sweetness of the cheesecake, the fruity hit of rhubarb and raspberry.  The unexpected but delicious combination was unique and pleasurable in ways I’d hoped for, but wasn’t sure I’d receive.  Fantastic ending to a good meal.

A couple of notes on the menu – I’m looking at the pdf menu online as I type this, and a couple of selections are no longer there. No mussels, no veal liver, no brisket sandwich. So it’s been simplified quite a bit to a soup, a couple of salads, sandwiches, burger, pasta, pizza, and two rotisserie items – chicken and steak. Where I’m going with this, is that with the exception of the odd unique item, the lunch menu is kind of boring.  Unless you specifically go out to eat and aim to get a burger, sandwich or salad, you’re not really broadening your horizons or getting something you can’t get anywhere else.  The quality may be higher, but so is the price, so it’s sad to see the more unusual items disappear already.  

So, I’d go back there for dinner in a heartbeat, I did have a chance earlier to sample, and vouch for,  their excellent rotisserie chicken, and I’m dying to try the Sunday special of porchetta, and the chicken confit ravioli.  Their portions are very decent and a fair value. And I hope that none of their dinner menu choices have devolved to Calgary’s status quo by the time I get there.

4/5

NOtabLE

4611 Bowness Road NW
Calgary, Alberta
403.288.4372

We’ve barely emerged from a very deep freeze here in Calgary, and the sharp wind that ushered in our Chinook barely feels like an improvement. It’s + 2 C outside, but feels much colder, and frankly I’d take -20 with no wind any day. It’s a cold cold wind.

Matters appear to be equally wintery in other parts of the world, and our US neighbors are also not spared their winterland adventures, while Australia battles a huge hurricane. Like my co-worker poetically phrased it: ‘everyone’s getting bent over this year’.  Crude but right.

So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to take a moment and escape. I’d escape to the tropics, but even CUBA plunged down to a memorable +1.6 a few weeks ago, and people, their homes have no heaters. Imagine an unheated concrete box and how much that would suck.  So in order to properly escape, I’m going back in time, to the height of summer and a lovely garden stroll in a very unique inner-city garden of Calgary.

It’s unique because of it’s odd location, it’s sandwiched between the chaos of the Stampede grounds and the quiet of a large old cemetary. The garden literally flows down the hill in meandering pathways and is a tiny hidden oasis in the bustle of city traffic.

It never used to be there, I’ve spent some time walking around that cemetary and where the garden is flourishing now used to be a messy tangle of vegetation and not much else. It was restored to former glory quite recently and my brother and I took some time to explore it.

The topography of the park is rather crazy – neat wooded paths lead to steep hills and cliffs and quite a bit of terrain is covered in such a small area. 

There is a little wooden bridge:

A lovely pond (with some empty beer bottles), c’mon people!

And a ton of native vegetation, all of which I know not the names of, but thanks to reading garden blogs, I did identify all some of the hostas! Aren’t you proud of me? The flowers range from modest prairie flowers like these:

And these:

And these:

To some pretty exotic specimens, that likely didn’t see too much life on the prairie: (Unless they did of course, my knowledge of botany ends with color.)

I don’t know what he was, but he was gorgeous, and HUGE!

And I sincerely hope that’s a peony:

And did I mention I got the hostas number? I betcha no one else was as excited by hostas as I was. Familiarity breeds love you know.

As well as some of the largest leaves of… something known to man. Seriously, I could make a bed of one of those.

Of course there were some hilly sections where you got to climb. All those stones criss-crossing the hill are actual narrow paths. You can play mountain goat:

And they’re steeper than they look, at least 30 degrees I’d say.

But very pretty:

And once you’re at the top, you can have a lovely rest in a shaded oasis:

Then you meander some more, a bit lost really, which is hard to do since you’re in a pretty small space, but the layout FEELS like it.

Well hello there – who’s pretty in pink?

And how exotic is this?

And find some oddly tucked away chairs to ponder life in:

Until eventually, you find a glimpse of the rebuilt house of the guy who started the garden – waaay back when.

The house is now a cafe, and I’m sure it’s a great spot for a drink, although we weren’t in the mood.

Overall I loved this garden more so than many others, and the crazy meandering layout is largely why. I hardly ever get the opportunity to get lost in the city,  to follow an unexplored path, or to find something hidden from sight. Most parks are lovely spaces, but much more open and with way less flowers of course.  Many gardens are more formally laid out with straighter lines and stricter paths. It’s very neat to find yourself a bit disoriented, it’s like a small adventure with plenty to see on the way, and a drink at the end.  Sure beats winter.

The weather also brought a homeless kitty to our doorstep. Whenever I see a cat outside near our house, I immediately rush out with a bowl of food. I can’t help it, it’s like a Pavlovian reflex. Often the cat is collared and belongs to one of the neighbors.  In that case he has a snack and moves on. Occasionally it’s a stray, that pounces on the food like it’s going out of style and sometimes we even manage to get him over to the local vet which passes him on to the Humane Society.

This fluffy orange cat appeared sporadically through the summer, and has never let me approach him. Now that the weather is crap, he waits for me to come home every day and devours a whole can of wet food, and a handful of dry food besides.  He won’t get near the food if I’m outside though, he’ll just sit ten feet away and look at me reproachfully  as if to say ‘dude, my meal is getting cold’.  I’m not sure when he begins his vigil, but the snow is usually melted under him by the time I come home from work. After a meal he cleans himself, waits twenty minutes or so, and wanders off.

Now that the weather is so cold I’m quite worried about him, so tomorrow will be operation trap the cat. We’ll leave food on the porch in a cat trap and see if he bites. With any luck we’ll come home to a scared orange cat in a cage.  Then our plan is the usual – foster him and let some shelter adopt him out. He may just be glad to be out of the cold.

Here is an awful photo of my cat watchin him eat through the window. He is just a dark shadow bent over his bowl of food. What really ticks me off is that he’s definitely not feral. He seems quite cautious around me, but I’ve seen him approach local kids in  the summer, and he’s somewhat socialized.  Which means he likely had a home once.  

Do you help any critters survive the harsh winters?