When a favourite restaurant closes or moves away, there’s only a big hole left — not just in the building it used to be in, but in my heart, or more to the point, in my stomach.

This was certainly the case when Ivory Thailand on Church Street closed. Ivory Thailand would not have won any awards; it was just an unassuming Thai restaurant, one of many in Toronto — but it was one that had a buffet that had became comfort food for me, and that had a cozy atmosphere and friendly wait staff.

Nature abhors a vacuum, though, and in this case, it filled it with Kirei Sushi + Bar, a trendy place that luckily seems to have some substance behind the flash.

I haven’t tried their sushi yet — certainly the acid test of any sushi place. But I did triy one of their Saturday lunch specials, a bento box meal with gindara (grilled cod) as the main attraction. I was delighted to find the food to be delicate — by which I mean that it didn’t exhibit the usual greasy heavy-handedness and blandness of many of the so-called sushi places in Toronto.

The meal got off to a good start (or pre-start, if there is such a thing) when the server brought a complimentary appetizer — a small portion of warm white rice noodles in what tasted like a bonito broth.

The meal then formally started with a bowl of miso soup, perhaps a little lacking in flavour but pleasant nevertheless, and a small, refreshing salad.

Then it was on to the main meal, which certainly had great presentation — and, fortunately, proved to taste as good as it looked, too. The gindara was perfect in texture and flavour, and was served on a bed of pan-fried vegetables. You don’t get a lot of fish; this was a thin slice, perhaps five inches long and about a quarter-inch thick. But together with the other elements of the meal (see below) and taken in tasty morsels with the fluffy rice, the serving was actually most satisfactory.

Besides, taken with the other elements of the meal, there was really no danger of the lunch not being filling. The meal included a bowl of rice, and the other tenants of the bento box itself were veggie tempura and a piece of shrimp tempura (also not heavy-handed — good shrmp-to-batter ratio!), half a dozen California rolls, some edamame, and a piece each of steamed dumpling and siomai (or reasonable facsimile).

The dumpling and the siomai were probably fillers to make sure the customer did not go hungry. While they tasted OK, they looked like they had been taken from one of those frozen dimsum packages you buy at the supermarket. They did not detract from the overall quality of the meal, though, and I felt that the $14 I spent for the Saturday special was well spent.

I’m not one for bars or pubs — unless they have really great food. This particular bar passes my litmus test, based on this initial experience. The sake and other drinks here are probably worth trying at least once, but I know it’s the food I’ll be back for.

Meals on Wheels — or, Eating Really Well on a 2,800-mile Journey from Toronto to Vancouver

There are certainly faster ways to get from Toronto to Vancouver — but undoubtedly few tastier ways than taking Via Rail’s The Canadian, a train that brings you from east to west, ever so leisurely, in four days. I took the trip with my son in the fall of 2011. We had purchased a sleeper package in which all the gourmet meals were included, so we looked forward to a unique gastronomical and sightseeing experience.

The trip certainly did not disappoint in either respect. Certainly, on the gastronomical front, the meals did not disappoint. They were invariably good, with some dishes (like the roast beef) standing out in particular. The table settings were elegant, and there is something to be said about having your meal by a train car window while stunning scenery whizzes by. There was only one occasion to have a real meal off the train, and this was when we made a several-hour stop in Jasper, Alberta. We found a homey place, the Patricia Street Deli, that served freshly-made sandwiches — a refreshing change from the rich food we’d been having on board the train.

On the train, we did run into an unexpected twist at our very first meal: Because of limited seating in the dining car, all meals would be taken opposite complete strangers sharing the same table. Having a table to yourself and your companion was completely out of the question. This turned the meals into social events in which you a) shyly tucked into your food while averting the eyes of the people opposite you or b) made a real attempt to enhance the meal by enjoying it together with the erstwhile strangers.

Taking option b) certainly opened up a new dimension. Before each breakfast, lunch, or dinner, we thought not just “Wonder what we’re having today” but also “Wonder what kind of people we’ll meet today”. So, while savoring our hot roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, or grilled arctic char, or rack of lamb, we made the acquaintance of people as varied as the food we were being served.

We met a mother and son from Syracuse, NY, a retired art gallery owner from Toronto, an Australian couple visiting friends they had made while assigned as teachers in Ontario many years ago, a young couple from Nashville, Texas, and a Russian girl from some obscure town near the North Pole.

In at least one case, we met people whose adventures would definitely be greater than the one we were all on. Towards the tail end of our journey, we met a young Indian couple who had lived in Toronto for some years but decided that the big city was not for them. So they up and packed up for Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, where they had no family, no firm job prospects, and no knowledge, even, of where they would be staying the night they arrived in the city!

The social interaction over meals did have one negative impact: I could hardly take keep taking pictures of food in polite company! So, as much as the gastronomical experience on board The Canadian was worth writing about, I finished the trip without much photographic evidence of the well-prepared meals I had enjoyed. Fortunately, I do have a few visual mementos of those great meals, but for the most part, they will have to remain trapped forever in the memory of my taste buds. 

MIKU’S ABURI SUSHI IS FOREVER SEARED INTO OUR SENSES

Vancouver, BC

We were in Vancouver for just one night, after a four-day train journey from Toronto on Via Rail’s Canadian. We had eaten very well indeed on the train, and saw no reason to stop now! Boldly trolling the Internet for suggestions, we came up with Miku Restaurant, which specializes in aburi, or sear-flamed sushi.

We may have forgotten the names of the dishes we had (which explains the lack of captions for each photo here), but the exquisite flavours remain seared, as it were, into our taste buds. The Aburi technique allows the fresh fish and other ingredients to retain their natural flavour, yet adds an extra dimension that brings more depth, and even surprise, to the dish.

Somewhere in the process, Miku introduces some secret sauces that enhance the experience even more. We puzzled over one of the striking flavours in the dishes, and decided that it reminded us, of all things, of Schneider’s Hot Rods!

But this theory bears further field research, and we have sworn to return to Miku as soon as possible to gather more data.

There’s nothing like walking up 157 narrow steps to whet your appetite. Walking through the Old Town of Geneva, Switzerland, the Masked Diner accepted a challenge to go up to the spire of the ancient St. Peter’s Cathedral (where John Calvin preached). So he climbed the steep winding stairs to the spire to have a spectacular view of Geneva and environs.

Aside from a great view of the city, MD had an ulterior motive: the challenging climb would be a perfect excuse to treat himself to a great dinner afterwards.

Even before you get to negotiate the stairs INSIDE the church, you get to negotiate the many stairways leading TO the church. After an unseasonably wintry week, Geneva’s streets were icy and slippery. By the way, The restaurant to the left of the stairs is one of the few in Geneva that deliberately does NOT serve alcohol. Perhaps it’s because inebriated people could never hope to make it up these stairs to the church.