By Shawna Wagman

This article appears in the Interiors edition of Ottawa Magazine, on newsstands now.

Chef Jamie Stunt competes in the Canadian Culinary Championships in Kelowna on Friday, Feb. 8 and Saturday, Feb. 9, competing against the gold medal winners from nine other cities from Vancouver to St. John’s.

Jamie Stunt visits with a yak at Rosemary's farm. Photography by Luther Caverly.

YAK TATAKI. Yak tataki. When I first spotted those two words on the menu at Oz Kafe four years ago, I couldn’t wait to say them out loud: yak tataki, yak tataki, yak tataki.

They are the kinds of words that a food writer dreams about — playful, whimsical, and deliciously unusual. They make you laugh, perhaps salivate, and dream. In a job that constantly battles against boring, repetitive, predictable menus and the constraints of the English language (how many ways can we talk about a great steak?), this dish was already infused with the makings of a great story, and I was determined to find it.

I mean, who has the nerve to serve yak in Ottawa? And how in the world did the chef get his hands on fresh yak meat? I would soon discover that a herd of Tibetan yaks was roaming the wilds of the Ottawa Valley.

When the plate arrived, the meat was  just barely seared, thinly sliced, and topped with anchovy mayo and bacon breadcrumbs. It was not the kind of dish I had expected to find in a meat-and-potatoes government town, but there it was — all crimson and succulent and drenched with soul-satisfying umami.

The dish had been prepared by Jamie Stunt, the creative young chef I had pegged a few years earlier as one of the city’s culinary up-and-comers. The restaurant where Stunt cooks is the late-night crash pad for fellow cooks, who swing by after their shifts to fuel up on smoked duck poutine and spicy grilled beef lettuce wraps.

Rosemary Kralik paints at the farm. Photography by Luther Caverly.

When I interviewed Stunt for the profile I was writing, he told me how he sank all his energy into cooking after losing his brother in an accident. Working in kitchens, he quietly gained a reputation as a risk taker.

Some called it culinary bravado when he served yak heart tartare and yak head chili at an underground supper club (he has also begun offering yak heart and yak liver cabbage rolls at Oz Kafe). But those who knew him understood that it was Stunt’s attempt to show respect to the beast by using every last bit of it.

Last November, it was another plate of yak that catapulted Stunt into the culinary limelight when he won the Gold Medal Plates Ottawa competition.

He wowed the panel of judges with pan-seared yak tenderloin and seduced them not only with the exceptionally tasty dish but also with the story of an unlikely pairing of hipster chef and hippie farmer.

Stunt will now go on to the Canadian Culinary Championships in Kelowna in February, competing against the gold medal winners from nine other cities from Vancouver to St. John’s.

Stunt began putting yak on his menu after meeting farmer Rosemary Kralik at a weekend farmers’ market. Kralik came to raise the long-haired bovines after a series of events over the years led her to her current farm.

She was still in high school when she became disillusioned with the industrial food system, swore off supermarket food, and sought out farmers who raised animals the way she believed animals should be treated. But it was decades before Kralik would become a farmer herself. In 1993, a dear friend who was on his deathbed said these words to her: “God will not come from the sky to give you what you want. No one cares what is in your heart; only you can know and care enough to pursue your dream.” Those words inspired Kralik to pursue the dream of farming.

Two years later, at the age of 50, the single mother of a grown son bought her first farm. It didn’t work out, but in 1999 she made a second attempt at her dream, buying a farm an hour and a half from the city. She called this farm Tiraislin Fold, a Gaelic phrase meaning “earth of my dreams.” “I made a choice,” she would later tell me. “At retirement, one can travel the world, buy fast cars, gamble, drink, do drugs — I chose agriculture.”

Stunt experienced an instant kinship with the farmer and felt good about serving her yak in the restaurant, even knowing it might have limited appeal with customers. He shared Kralik’s conviction that we can actually taste the happiness of the animals we consume and that we receive health benefits from those that have enjoyed good health and a stress-free life. Kralik cites studies with evidence that yak meat is very high in CLA (conjugated linoleic acids) and omega-3, both of which have been shown to reduce the risk of cancer. She is also convinced that the meat from happy animals tastes sweeter and is more satisfying. This all meshed with her belief that what we eat directly affects us. For her, there is no doubt that cruel farming and butchering practices are linked to widespread human depression in the world. Most of the animals we consume, she says, have known nothing but misery.

It’s not surprising, then, that her yaks play in the sun and wander out to the woods of the 722-acre farm to feed on buds, leaves, and bark. In the spring, she uses a rake to help detangle their winter coats as they shed. When Kralik talks about her frolicking yaks, she could just as well be describing a charming but unruly band of backpackers who have opted to crash in her barn for the weekend.

She loves to tell the story about the time she received an unexpected call from the provincial police. A dozen of her yaks, calves and all, had escaped from the farm and had turned up at a golf course, located about 50 minutes away. “I didn’t even know they played,” she quips. When the story hit the local papers, people were outside in their bathrobes with cameras trying to spot them. In the end, it took a month to round them up — all part of the adventure of raising the uncommon beasts (there are only about 2,000 yaks in North America). Looking back at it now, Kralik says she couldn’t help wondering if they were just trying to find their way back to Tibet.

As a food writer, I was drawn to the yak  story on many levels. Similar to bison and other heritage-breed animals that are gaining popularity among health-conscious carnivores, yak meat is lean, protein-packed, and low in cholesterol. It is also delicious and revered for its delicate, sweet, beef-like flavour. The problem comes in the cooking. Because it is extra, extra lean, yak easily turns as tough as shoe leather — and about as tasty. The best way to eat it is raw or nearly so, like steak tartare or the way I was introduced to it at Oz Kafe: yak tataki. Soon after that first bite, I felt compelled to track down and find out more about the woman whom I referred to affectionately as The Yak Lady.

During a series of phone conversations, I learned that Rosemary Kralik is also an artist — a painter — with a surprising background as a management consultant for the federal government. But she gave up the great salary, security, and pension (a decision people thought was crazy). She’s one of those brave souls who follows through on a dream to change direction entirely. In Kralik’s case, she opted for a life of combing yaks with a rake.

Kralik’s description of her initiation into farming life did not inspire great confidence. She recalled standing and watching a parade of animals — horses, pigs, sheep, and goats — at a sale barn near Fitzroy Harbour. Then the auctioneer led out a pair of shaggy black Tibetan yaks with handlebar horns and humped backs, and she noticed how the crowd instantly dispersed as people wandered off to the canteen for a coffee. She, however, was lovestruck. They were the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen.

In just over a decade, that cow and bull (the names for the female and male yaks) have given her a herd of 28. I wondered whether Kralik actually eats these animals after nurturing them at a level many people reserve for their pets. “The only reason I’m raising them is to eat the meat,” she says in response to that question. “But you have to love and respect them. The animal is giving you its life so that you can live.” It’s a contract she takes     extremely seriously.

On the day each yak is born, Kralik promises it a good life. When the time comes for one to be “put away,” she stays with it to the end. “I look into his eyes, I stroke him, I thank him,” she says. “They understand the vibes. They go quietly and calmly, and that makes a world of difference.” In fact, there is only one certified butcher in the Valley whom she trusts to give her animals a dignified death. She swears she’ll sell the farm once that abattoir goes out of business. “There is no point in doing what I do on the farm if the animal is going to die in terror,” she says.

Meanwhile, she has yet to figure out a way to make the farm financially viable — and doesn’t know if she ever will (she continues to paint portraits to pay the bills). The hay alone costs more than $17,000 a year. And since yaks are slow to mature, she had to care for them for many years before there was a herd of 28 and any meat to sell.

When we first met in 2008, she had just begun renting a stall at the Ottawa Farmers’ Market with a freezer full of ground yak, yak sausages, and yak salami. I wanted a chance to chat when she was “off duty,” so we arranged to meet for coffee one afternoon when she was coming to town to deliver meat.

I was already inside the café when her rusty blue flatbed truck pulled up. It stood out as a distinctly rural vehicle among the sensible sedans and shiny SUVs on the street, but what really made heads turn was that she had parked her truck facing in the wrong direction. From out of the driver’s seat bounded a woman wearing large plastic-framed glasses circa 1970-something and high-waisted jeans of the same vintage. She had a wild, feathery grey-blond mane, a wide grin, and an electric twinkle in her eye. As we got in line to order our coffees, a couple sitting at a table by the window gestured for us to look outside. A police officer had pulled up to slap a parking ticket on Kralik’s windshield. She dashed out, but after a brief exchange with the cop, she shrugged her shoulders and bounced back in with the same exuberance she had before. In that moment, she struck me as the embodiment of every cliché about happiness I’d ever heard, from “Don’t sweat the small stuff” to “Never cry over spilt milk.”

During the conversation, it quickly became clear that not only was she a yak whisperer but that her everyday wisdom came from a life lived largely on the periphery and in solitude. “I am a hermit,” she declared. “ What I love about farming is that you get up every day and deal with what you see in front of you. There are no excuses — you do it or something dies.” We spent the next hour jumping from topic to topic — from food to art to mortality to parenting. I learned that as a student, Kralik had studied ballet, music, and theatre but was drawn to physics, chemistry, botany, and zoology. Her talent as an artist, nurtured during a childhood spent in Egypt and, later, in England, came in handy in Canada (she arrived here in 1959), when she began working for a design company in the late ’60s.

By the time she was 18, Kralik had been invited to exhibit her artwork professionally, her scientific illustrations had been published in government reports, and her studies of people and animals had won prizes in high school competitions. She later pursued her passion for architecture (her then husband was an architect), learning architectural drafting on the job. After that, she took university courses on computer programming, statistics, and psychology — a combination of skills and experiences that ultimately led to consulting work for several federal departments, including Health and Welfare, Agriculture Canada, and Indian and Northern Affairs. Her federal career proved to be both intense and lucrative, her skills as a number cruncher and innovative problem solver proving to be a crucial apprenticeship for her next career — running a farm.

The farm has provided Kralik with the opportunity to elevate agriculture to a work of art. Now, at the age of 68, she declares it her magnum opus. The more I listened, the more I began to understand the real story behind the yaks, the freedom they have to live their lives the way they want. I sensed that this was a theme she felt echoing in her own life and told her so. She smiled at me knowingly, the way a teacher looks into the eyes of a student who has suddenly understood the meaning of Descartes’ Discourse on the Method. Suddenly I was having another epiphany about that dish of yak tataki. I could now see that behind every delicious mouthful, there was bound to be tragedy and trauma tucked away inside the person who was motivated enough to transform it into something beautiful.

It was time to go, and Kralik reached out for a hug before getting into her backward-facing truck. “Nothing is all good or all bad,” she said in farewell. “Everything has both sides. If you don’t realize this, you miss out on half of life.” And with that, The Yak Lady wheeled around and drove away.

The post THE BACKSTORY: How Oz Kafe’s Jamie Stunt discovered the zen of yak appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

A luncheonette pop-up at Black Cat Bistro on Fridays. Lunch is a bowl of hot soup and fresh foccaccia: it's what everyone's craving.

Chef Patricia Larkin says she came up with the idea of offering a fun, relaxed take-out lunch from the kitchen of Preston Street’s chic Black Cat Bistro. It starts today at noon. She’ll be selling containers of her braised chicken, vegetable, and rice soup with a hunk of freshly-baked focaccia while quantities last. A batch of chocolate chip cookies will be coming out of the oven in time for lunch as well.

Larkin, who is in charge of the Bistro’s fine dining menu, says she was itching to try something new. “It’s a way to keep me excited,” she says. But it was Richard Urquhart, Black Cat’s owner, who had his heart set on the name “luncheonette.”

Larkin says he’s been talking about it for years — he likes the association with old-fashioned diners where patrons park themselves on stools at the counter. Of course BCB isn’t exactly casual, nor is it known as a place to grab a quick bite, so the new Friday brown bag lunch aims to adopt that spirit.

“It’s a fun place to start,” says Larkin, alluding to the fact that the Black Cat Luncheonette could grow into something bigger. But for now it’s a dead simple endeavor. She’ll put up a big pot of wholesome homemade delicious soup, bake some focaccia and some chocolate chip cookies. If no one shows up, it’ll be a delicious staff meal tonight, she says with a laugh.

Cost: Soup & focaccia $6; Cookie $1; Soft Drinks $1.50.

Hours: Fridays only, noon till 1 p.m.

Black Cat Luncheonette, 428 Preston St., 613-569-9998.

The post SOUP’S ON! Black Cat Bistro test drives its new “Black Cat Luncheonette” Friday take-away lunch — starts today appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

A new breed of cook has been causing a stir in the nation’s capital. These foodies may not have professional kitchens – or even certification – but Donna Henhoeffer thinks it’s about time we give them their due. The Taboo Eats founder launched My Neighbourhood Bites to showcase the city’s top amateur cooks. Over the next six months, 12 local neighbourhoods will take part, hosting cooking competitions from Vanier to Greely to Centretown. If the debut event at Cube Gallery is any indication (they packed nearly 175 guests into the Wellington West locale on Dec. 15), this project is shaping up to be a great success. Ottawa Magazine’s Erica Eades chats with Henhoeffer about her inspiration for the project, some exciting new partnerships, and how she plans to give back to the community.

The top three winners of the first round of My Neighbourhood Bites join organizer Donna Henhoeffer (middle left) for a photo.

So, tell us about your first event.
It went really well! We had such a nice turnout, and it was a really good mix of people there – some who live and work in the area, others who came from as far as Orleans.

What was the winning dish?
The winning dish was the Mary Had a Little Lamb Meatball [created by Chantal Albert]. It was a Moroccan-inspired meatball that had a roasted eggplant and tomato puree, with a spiced toasted chickpea and a little bit of mint yogurt.

How did this competition come about?
I’ve been planning events for about 20 years and I ran a catering company for 10 years. In that time I saw cooks come and go and met with staff at all different levels. It got me thinking: How do I bring all that together and give people a chance to expose their work?

You’ve been marketing My Neighbourhood Bites to “amateur cooks, home cooks, and oven-lovers.” Does this mean established cooks can’t participate?
Not at all. Anyone can apply as long as they’re not a certified chef. A lot of the time cooks are recreating the same meals based off a menu; they don’t have the chance to be creative. So this is an outlet for them as well.

How did you choose the different neighbourhoods?
It’s not so much about the neighbourhood as it is the space. We really focused on finding venues that reflected each area.

So far nine of the 12 areas have been announced. When will the final list be posted?
Hopefully in the next few weeks. But if there’s someone out there who has a neighbourhood they think we haven’t represented, we’re happy to have them reach out to us!

Guests mingle, eat, and enjoy the ambiance at My Neighbourhood Bites. The first of 12 rounds took place at Cube Gallery on Saturday.

What can you tell us about your partnership with Winterlude?
We’re hosting two events during Winterlude. One is being held at the Kichesippi Brewery and will focus on recipes that go well with beer. The other event will be a comfort-food-themed night during [Vanier’s] Winter Carnival. People will be coming to Winterlude from all over, so this is a great opportunity for cooks to get some exposure.

You’ve also joined forces with several local food programs.
That’s right. The top three entries from each neighbourhood will be published in a cookbook, which will then be sold in support of the Ottawa Food Bank. But in working with the food bank, we’ve also connected with groups in each of the neighbourhoods. For instance, with the Wellington West event, a coordinator from the Parkdale Food Centre came out to collect donations.

What else should readers know about the competition? 
From my perspective, there are two messages with what we’re doing. One is to really rally local cooks and let them know that they should apply. You may be a bit nervous, but our team is really there to help with the whole process. The second thing is that it is a public event. We want the public to come out, to taste their way through, to connect with the cooks. And then to vote, because they’re the ones that make the final decision and determine who the winners are.

Round two of My Neighbourhood Bites will take place at Centretown’s Babylon Nightclub on Jan. 12. Visit www.tabooeats.com for more information.

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Steve Beckta’s third restaurant, is on Westboro’s primo corner of Richmond and Churchill, in a former branch of the TD Bank

By Anne DesBrisay

Beckta has moved into my old bank. I’m not bummed about it. Truth is I’d rather walk to lunch than pay bills at this address. But I must say: I miss the books.

Gezellig, Steve Beckta’s third restaurant, is on Westboro’s primo corner of Richmond and Churchill, in a former branch of the TD Bank that happened to lend a table for used books browsing. Can’t remember exactly what the deal was: take one, donate one, leave a buck or two? Whatever. It was charming.

Still, Gezellig was necessary. I can see that. This neighbourhood is underserved, restaurant-wise. It has watched, pouting, as neighbourhoods to its east — West Wellington and Hintonburg — sprouted delicious places to eat, and muttered small obscenities when it was delivered of yet another chain pub or sports bar. Sure, Westborians have got lots of places to buy paddles and long johns and overpriced sports bras, but gastronomically-speaking, their ‘hood has offered some pretty bleak grazing.

The house steak tartare was luscious meat, hand-cut into small dice, well seasoned and left largely alone but for its sunny fried egg toupé and side pile of mustard seed

Gezellig’s renovated space exudes modern comfort. It’s tall and handsome (and manages that without the benefit of a single rough barn board, swingin’ saloon door, or Edison-style light bulb) while the height and placement of windows invites the outside in. Gezellig’s palate is light grey and dark blue, but warmed with plenty of pale birch surfaces. Tables gleam with lacquer and pop with white linen. And the service, as you’d expect from a Beckta-run house, is knowledgeable and friendly.

Executive Chef Mike Moffatt is the grand fromage for all three of Beckta’s places (Beckta and Play being the other two). Gezellig’s restaurant chef is Che Chartrand, previously chef-owner of the tiny Chez Eric in Wakefield.

The creamy wedge of cheesecake is topped with an apple crumble

The day was raw, but so was my Gezellig lunch. The house steak tartare was luscious meat, hand-cut into small dice, well seasoned and left largely alone but for its sunny fried egg toupé and side pile of mustard seed. These had been puffed in a hot dry pan, and then glugged with Brandy. They ‘popped’ in the mouth, left a lovely boozy afterglow, and gave some pungency and texture to the chewy meat. Oiled and toasted bread ferried tartare to mouth.

Gezellig offers any two small plates, or one small plate and one dessert, for $20. So I had the steak tartare and a cheesecake (the creamy wedge with an apple crumble topper, served with whipped cream infused with thyme). A bit odd, that combination, but it worked well for me. And I brought my own book.

Cost: steak tartare and dessert, $20

Open: daily for lunch, dinner, and weekend brunch

Gezellig, 337 Richmond Rd., 613-680-9086.

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With the first sip of Welch’s grape juice, I was instantly transported — as promised — back to the days of skinned knees, PB &J sandwiches, and licking batter off of cake beaters. It was a great, nostalgic start to the first-ever Clam Jam, a collaborative dinner party prepared by a feisty crew of female chefs who came together for a fundraiser designed to riff on the theme of childhood. It was held at Union Local 613 and the proceeds from the dinner and silent auction were in support of Harmony House.

Before each of the seven courses was served, the chef that created it stood in the centre of the room and spoke in front of about 40 eager guests about the inspiration behind their dish. It was a lovely reminder of just how powerful and personal taste memories can be.

When the fried ravioli stuffed with spaghetti and tiny meatballs circulated as canapés, I was concerned that this meal might digress into a mash-up of cutesy and kitschy courses. Instead we were treated to a parade of thoughtful dishes, each with a corresponding tale from young women who demonstrated an early appreciation for the pleasures of cooking. The audience got to peek back in time to see the kernel of passion that presumably led each chef to their professional kitchen careers. Fascinating stuff.

The allure of this type of event, aside from being a great fundraiser, is the opportunity for adventurous eaters to sample food from many talented chefs all at once, yet the collaborative supper club — a concept that is particularly popular at the moment — can be a peculiar thing. You have to put aside your normal expectations about the narrative arc of a meal — what kinds of dishes go together, and are appealing to eat together, and in what order — and instead, just go with the flow.

The dishes served at last Sunday’s Clam Jam took us on a ride from Japanese pickles to pizza soup to rabbit rillettes to funnel cake. It just goes to show, that when you eat for charity and for a chance to get up close and personal with the city’s culinary talent, sometimes you have to drink the Kool-Aid…or, in this case, the grape juice.

Click on each of the images below for a full-scale view of the evening’s varied menu. 

Dish #1 Caroline Ishii, ZenKitchen

Chef Ishii created a plate inspired by Japanese home cooking dedicated to her father who recently passed away: a spinach roll topped with miso-sesame sauce, lotus root with matcha salt and orange teriyaki grilled tofu; pickled vegetables and a “bag of rice” with fresh mushrooms.

Dish #2 Katie Brown, Beckta Dining & Wine

Chef Brown shared the story of growing up in a busy household where her mom would always have a big pot of soup on the stove. Brown says her friends still come over for her mom’s Pizza Soup. Her version included bison pepperoni meatballs, tomatillo salsa verde, confit king eryngii mushrooms to which a smoked tomato and parmesan broth was poured and it was served with a “stuffed crust” bread stick.

Dish #3 Patricia Larkin, Black Cat Bistro

Chef Larkin talked about growing up on a court with nine houses in Kanata and every year the families got together for a summer street lobster party. Her family was responsible for the caesar salad so Larkin’s dish combined lobster crudo elegantly garnished with the flavours of a caesar salad: tangy yuzu gel instead of lemon, pickled ramps, a soft-cooked quail egg, and bacon-panko crumble.

Dish #4 Anna March, urban element

Someone had to do mac and cheese and Chef March said her mom makes her childhood favourite. Meanwhile, March makes an impressive rendition with “things she would’ve hated as a kid” like mushrooms, truffle oil, and wilted greens. The gooey delight came in ball-form, wrapped in a crisp breadcrumbs.

Dish #5 Harriet Clunie, Navarra

“I was one of those weird kids with all kinds of food allergies,” says Chef Clunie, “And I was the product of hippie parents.” She says this explains why all the other kids were eating ham sandwiches while she had a thermos full of lamb curry. Her own complex curry was garnished with mango pickle, raita, and spiced chickpeas.

Dish #6 Marysol Foucault, Chez Edgar/Odile

Chef Foucault took us into emotional terrain with a story about hunting for rabbits (unsuccessfully) and cooking them as a form of escape from unhappy times. She created a beautiful homage to cooking with her mom by preparing rabbit three ways; stuffed saddle, rillettes cromesqui (like an ultra-gourmet Chicken McNugget) and liver mouselline, along with shredded cabbage and apples.

Dish #7 Sonia Marwick, Union Local 613

Chef Marwick used to spend her $5 allowance on penny candies and her fondest childhood memories were of going to the carnival. Her dish included funnel cake, candy apple balls, green apple jolly rancher caramel, and lemon sour patch cotton candy.

The post IN DIGESTION: Women chefs put childhood on the plate for a good cause (with pix of each course!) appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

On the move: The chefs are getting restless and Shawna Wagman has the latest on who's going where.

First we heard from Summer Baird, owner of Hintonburg Public House, that Kris Kshonze, her head chef, was leaving. He has decided to stay home with his new baby — trading in a life in the service of hipsters for one in the service of diapers.

Then, we heard that Anna March, Mariposa’s former chef, was returning to the kitchen this fall after her maternity leave to join The Urban Element where she is now the head cooking class instructor as well as leading the culinary team for in-house corporate and private events. (She replaces Candice Butler who left a few months ago to take over the food program at Elmwood School.) We have since put the pieces of the puzzle together and realize that March and Kshonze are in fact a couple. Their son’s name is Henry.

Now Baird has confirmed that Mark Currier, currently resident chef at Mariposa Farm, will replace Kshonze at the end of October. It’s a reunion for Currier and Baird, who worked together in the kitchen at The Urban Pear about seven years ago when Baird was chef and co-owner and Currier was her sous-chef. So far, there is no news about who will replace Currier at Mariposa.

Meanwhile, restaurateur Steve Beckta and executive chef Michael Moffatt of Beckta and Play are preparing to launch their new sibling restaurant, gezellig at the end of October. They recently hired Che Chartrand as chef de cuisine of the Westboro spot. In August, Chartrand sold his Wakefield restaurant Chez Eric to a pair of his employees after realizing the grind of owning a restaurant was leading to burnout. “There was nothing left,” he says. “I needed to get inspired again.”

This new gig reunites the gregarious Chartrand with what he calls “the Beckta boys.” He worked with Chef Moffatt at Beckta’s eponymous restaurant in 2004. He tells us his sous-chef at gezellig will be Brian DePonte, who is moving over from Play. Other than that, Chartrand is pretty tight-lipped about what we can expect from gezellig. Perhaps he’s in the dark like the rest of us. “I’m not exactly known for keeping my mouth shut,” he jokes. “I’m animated and full of piss and vinegar. Everybody there is reminded of the old Che.”

All he’ll say about the menu so far is that it will include large sharing plates — things like roast chicken for two with a choice of several different sides; a whole fish platter; or ribs.

“It’s all Mike’s menu,” he says. “Hopefully I’ll make additions to it, but that’s up to [Chef Moffatt].” As for the tricky-to-pronounce Dutch name of the restaurant, Chartrand finds it funny that people are fascinated by it. Apparently nicknames are already widely in use. “I call it TriBeckta,” says Chartrand. “Chef calls it the g-spot. It doesn’t matter. I won’t be the one answering the phone.”

The post CHEF SHUFFLE: New chefs in top spots at Hintonburg Public House, The Urban Element and the soon-to-open gezellig appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

First-time restaurateurs Emily Ienzi and boyfriend Steve Harris have transformed the former Lindenhof restaurant into a hip new small plates spot

It’s the mom-and-pop shop re-envisioned by a new generation. You take a front-of-house girl whose family comes from Italy’s Puglia region and a boy who cooks with roots in Nova Scotia and you give them access to an urban garden and an 80-seat restaurant; toss in a coin-operated vintage Ms. PAC-MAN machine and a DJ and you’ve got the ingredients for a fun-loving new Ital-Canadian snack food joint on Preston Street called two six {ate}.

It opens officially on Friday. When I stopped by for a sneak peek of the place on Monday, the full face-lift, which began on August 17, made it unrecognizable from its former occupant, the Lindenhof restaurant.

It’s got all the hallmarks of the new breed of hipster hang-out: the tattooed chef, the reclaimed barnboard walls, the old-school cocktails, the funky lighting, and the playful menu offering an upscale twist on trashy kid food like Pogos and poutine. Words like foie gras torchon, sashimi, and heirloom tomatoes add heft to a menu that is a giddy mix of snack food nostalgia and Italian classics. There’s a kitchen that won’t quit until the wee hours of the morning, talk of nose-to-tail and seasonal cooking and a commitment to keeping it affordable — so far nothing on the menu is over 20 bucks.

After meeting the couple in question — 32-year-old ex-Allium Chef Steve Harris and his girlfriend Emily Ienzi, who was Lago’s banquette manager — I got the impression the personalities involved will infuse the place with a unique homespun vibe. Emily’s family has been heavily involved, both as financial backers for the project and as the contractor (Emily’s brother is part of Krate, the design team that also worked on Hintonburg Public House and the new Westboro Fratelli) and food suppliers (Emily’s parent have two acres of apple orchards, hundreds of tomato plants and grape vines, as well as making their own prosciutto and other Italian goodies).

Emily’s mom is even lending the family’s top-secret pan-fried calzone recipe to the cause. Steve expects it will become one of the restaurant’s signature dishes. “Those things are epic,” he says. When I ask him to describe his own cooking style, Steve calls it “fly by the seat of my pants.”  He likes messing around with whatever ingredients he has on hand and coming up with something tasty. He credits his own grandma with giving him a love of making preserves and baking fresh pies — the flavours of those East Coast summers will surely work their way into the menu as well.

Two six {ate}, 268 Preston St., 613-695-8200, twosixate.com

Grand opening: Friday, September 28

Regular Hours: Wednesday to Monday, 4 p.m.- 2 a.m.

The post INTRODUCING: two six {ate}, Preston Street’s new late-night munchies joint opens on Friday appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

By Shawna Wagman | Photography by Marc Fowler / Metropolis Studio

Top left: Chocolate-making at Les Chocolats de Chloé; Bottom left: French toast with pear and cranberries from Lawrence; Right: Fairmount Bagel factory, open 24 hours a day

Montreal is the spiritual home of my hedonistic alter ego.

I go there to rock out, and I go there to fill up. I go there to surround myself with people who live to eat. And I go there to connect to history — the city’s and my own. I go there to be reminded of the ways that pleasure can be — and should be — a part of everyday life. Go ahead; roll your eyes. Accuse me of romanticizing Montreal. I have no defence. My Montreal is a mélange of old and new, French and English, sweet and salty, cheap and chic. I allow myself a guilt-free affair with la belle ville at every opportunity.

I have a strategy when planning a weekend visit, and it usually involves one researched dinner reservation, one stop at a select brunch spot, and a whole lot of walking, grazing, and nibbling in between. Here’s the key: park the car when you arrive, and then use it as a storage locker for the bagels, spices, chocolates, preserves, and cheeses you pick up along the way. That way, you can savour the distinctive smoky-sweet perfume of sesame bagels on the drive home and keep the Montreal food hangover lingering until the next visit.

Left to right: Ruth Wilensky behind the counter at the venerable Wilensky’s Light Lunch; the private bathroom in one of the five guest rooms at Casa Bianca, an ode to French Renaissance revival architecture; Michelle Merek is the chef at the Labo Culinaire @ Sat Foodlab, a much-hyped experimental not-for-profit restaurant

LUNCH: Schwartz’s Deli

The tradition of going directly to Schwartz’s for a smoked meat sandwich immediately upon arriving in town began in my undergrad years at McGill in the early 1990s. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, because time stops once you’re under the fluorescent glow inside the landmark deli, sitting elbow to elbow with strangers, surrounded by the mingling scents of briny beef, peppercorns, and those obscenely good fries. Thanks to singer Celine Dion’s husband, René Angélil, part of a group of investors who recently bought Schwartz’s, the tradition will continue.

3895, boul. Saint-Laurent,
www.schwartzsdeli.com.

HOTEL CHECK-IN: Casa Bianca

Sandwiched between the Plateau, the Mile End, and Outremont, Casa Bianca is an ideal base from which to explore three of my favourite food neighbourhoods on foot. Gazing out the lovely large windows of my stylish second-floor suite, I finally realize my dream of living on Esplanade Avenue facing Mount Royal Park with a view of the mountain itself.

4351, av. de l’Esplanade,
www.casabianca.ca.

AFTERNOON TREAT: Les Chocolats de Chloé

Another darling of Montreal’s food scene is a charming boutique dedicated to the art of chocolate. Owner Chloé Gervais-Fredette can often be seen in the shop’s exposed kitchen creating dark-chocolate-dipped melt-in-the-mouth bonbons infused with herbs (basil, fresh mint), spices (Szechuan peppercorn, ginger), and fresh fruit purées (passion fruit, lemon, and lime). Take your pick, but if your plan is to stroll around in the sun, eat your chocolates fast and grab a jar of the sensational salted butter and fresh vanilla caramel for the fridge at home. Trust me.

546, rue Duluth E.,
www.leschocolatsdechloe.com.

APÉRITIF: Labo Culinaire @ Sat Foodlab

After hearing raves about the food being prepared in an experimental not-for-profit restaurant at the avant-garde music and arts venue, I have to check it out. I hop into a taxi and shoot down to the SAT (Société des arts technologiques), an ultra-modern structure built among the boarded-up buildings and peep shows of a historic downtown neighbourhood on the cusp of major change. I climb the stairs to the top floor just as the spacious room and its patio begin to fill up with edgy young urbanites. Don’t be fooled by the hyper-cool setting: the eclectic menus are labours of love inspired by poetry, whimsy, and history rather than test tubes and forceps. From the end of August until October, Foodlab also hosts an all-produce farmers market for Quebec-foraged and local products at the nearby Place de la Paix. The Lab, open Wednesday to Saturday from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m., changes the menu to match various themes.

1201, boul. Saint-Laurent (third floor),
www.sat.qc.ca.

DINNER: La Salle À Manger

At this audacious upscale cafeteria, the decor includes a massive meat cooler and a crew of tattooed cooks on display at the stove. A team of gracious servers, poised to recommend the perfect wine to pair with each dish, understands well that we are all there to eat our faces off. The culinary carnival begins with fresh bread, oysters, and long rustic wooden boards of homemade charcuterie and smoked seafood strewn with giant handfuls of fresh herbs and zingy pickled cauliflower, carrots, and radishes. The blackboard of nightly specials features animals fit for shared feasting: whole rabbit and duck. The suckling pig serves 12. Feeling like a steak? It is more likely to be deer or horse than beef. The succulent pork bun may be worthy of its own cult following, but by the time we try it, we’re already fully converted.

1302, av. Mont-Royal E.,
www.lasalleamanger.ca.

The post PLANNING A ROAD TRIP?: Forty-eight hours of food heaven in Montreal appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

This photo of Mellos appeared on the Trip Advisor website, taken by a visitor to the city who proclaimed the diner "where the locals go!"

Rumours have been swirling for weeks but today City Bites confirms that Matthew Carmichael, former Executive Chef of Social, E18hteen, and Side Door will be opening a pop-up restaurant* inside the delightfully dingy Mellos Diner on Dalhousie Street in the Byward Market. It all begins on June 25, 26, and 27 with plans to then be open Sundays through Wednesdays after that.

*What’s a pop-up restaurant?

It’s a dining phenomenon beloved by Smartphone wielding foodies that is by definition temporary and transient — it’s a restaurant that might turn up without much notice in a private home, an abandoned space or at a festival and might run for one night, one week, or one month and beyond.

In this case Carmichael says he’s going to experiment with different nights and see what works best. If all goes well, the pop-up could become what’s called “a takeover” and go on indefinitely.

As for the food, expect it to be classic Carmichael — he says it’s a combination of what diners have come to expect from the three upscale restaurants he ran until his recent departure. “There will be good fresh pasta, curries, good steak frites, asparagus, and morels,” he says, “And I’ll be playing around with stuff. It’s a reflection of where I’m at right now with food.”

As for his choice of the quintessential 1950s greasy spoon? “I think Mellos is such a heritage institution here in Ottawa, I want to pay respect to that.” The music and lighting will be different, but he’s keeping the frozen-in-time classic diner décor just as it is.

Mellos Pop-Up Restaurant, 290 Dalhousie St.

The post BREAKING NEWS! Chef Matt Carmichael opening Ottawa’s first pop-up restaurant in Mellos vintage diner in the Byward Market appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.

Executive Chef Mike Moffatt adds a third restaurant kitchen to his list of responsibilities. This one is set to shake up the Westboro dining scene.

The ink has barely dried on the lease for 337 Richmond Road and we are already clamouring to know what will be on the menu of the new Westboro restaurant — the third sibling to join the Beckta and Play family. Steve Beckta announced last week that his new place will be called gezellig, a tricky-to-translate Dutch word that refers to things (and people and places) that create a cozy, homey, quaint, and comfortable vibe — it’s also that warm, relaxed feeling you get when surrounded by great people.

It comes as no surprise that Chef Mike Moffatt will be the executive chef. He remains at the helm of the kitchen at Beckta, where he has been for nine years, as well as at Play Food & Wine, where he has been running the kitchen since its inception in 2008. We snatched a few minutes by phone with Chef Moffatt between lunch and dinner service to chat about the new challenges ahead.

City Bites: What do you think of the name gezellig?

Michael Moffatt: I laugh when people ask me what it means. I say, “Ask Steve!” It’s great. The name and what it means defines what we’re going for really well.  My definition is “convivial spirit.” After a while, the word will just become the name of the restaurant. Like Beckta — I still meet people who don’t realize that it’s the name of the owner.

CB: So how will this restaurant be different from the others?

MM:  We’re really trying to bring our style to a neighbourhood restaurant. By reputation, we’ll end up with lots of destination diners, but we really want the restaurant to serve the [Westboro] neighbourhood. We’re using the traditional dining model — appetizers, main courses, desserts. There will be some sharing plates.

CB: Is it going to be in the style of a gastropub?

MM: I don’t see it that way. I don’t like labels. The only label I want to achieve is good food. Gastropub to me has a more casual feel and I’m imagining a space that’s more upscale-casual.

CB: Will you use the same suppliers for ingredients?

MM: At Beckta we have about 55 different suppliers. I mean, there’s one guy who brings me ramps — that’s it. We use about 2/3 of the same suppliers at Play because we have greater volume and we concentrate the menus. This one will probably fit somewhere in the middle.

CB: What are you most excited about with the new place?

MM: It’s another chance to express myself creatively. I just like to feed people and make them happy. It’s exciting when you finally see staff taking on new roles and growing. I’m really proud of the training I’ve done. It’s a great new adventure and a giant new nightmare.

CB: Have you started thinking about the menu yet?

MM: I didn’t want to think too much about the menu until the location was set. I think it would have been a different style if we had ended up on Elgin or in the Glebe. Being in the West end — it’s where Steve lives and where I live — it’s a nice intelligent crowd and they know what they like. I look at my neighbours and they’re looking for a great restaurant that they can walk to. A place you go if you happen to get a last-minute sitter and you don’t feel like driving downtown.

CB: Where do you seek inspiration for dishes, concepts? What’s inspiring you most these days?

MM: My inspiration comes from the people I work with. I work with a lot of talented people and they come to me with new ideas and new experiences. My job is to make sure those ideas fit within our program. We’re not going to go in a ton of different directions and we’re not trying to be everything to everyone. We’ve got a strong hospitality package [at Beckta] and we’ll export the key components.  It has worked with Play.

The post INSIDE SCOOP: Chef Mike Moffatt talks about gezellig, Steve Beckta’s third restaurant, opening in Westboro later this year appeared first on Ottawa Magazine.