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. 

The Shipwright’s Cafe in Margate, Prince Edward Island, is a culinary voice in the wilderness. 

That statement can be taken quite literally, since the restaurant, on the outskirts of the town of Kensington, is almost lost amidst the potato fields and red dirt roads of rural PEI.

But on a different level, the Shipwright’s Cafe is also a solitary voice because it is one of the relatively rare places in PEI’s rural areas offering fine (or at least finer) dining.

The Cafe operates out of a farmhouse originally built in the 1880s, and fits right in with the scenery. You could easily assume it was somebody’s old residence. A vegetable garden next to the house further reinforces the impression of something homy and old.

Inside, the wooden interiors and traditional furnishings lead you to expect that this is a place where you can get a no-nonsense meal of steak and potatoes.

You would be partially right. You can indeed get a good steak, as we learned when we dined at the Cafe recently with friends who are PEI residents. But that steak (the $32 “Shipwright’s Tournedos of Beef”) was, if you’ll pardon the pun, a cut above the usual pub or family restaurant fare because of the excellent red wine sauce and the perfectly roasted potatoes and the not-overdone vegetables.

But I am getting a little bit ahead of myself. Meals properly start with an appetizer, and one of the specials of the day — a large portobello mushroom stuffed with lobster, shrimp, vegetables, and a mysteriously delicious sauce — turned out to be the most spectacular part of the meal. Sadly, this succulent appetizer does not appear to be part of the regular menu, but if it were, the mushroom alone would be worth revisiting the Cafe.

The giant mushroom cast a huge shadow over my main course — a $32 lamb special (again not part of the regular menu) that turned out to be not so special because the slices were rubbery. Also, while the lamb portions were generous, the meal was served on a plate that seemed too small. The food was in constant danger of spilling off the plate.

Other members of our party had much better luck with their choice: a $22 roast chicken special that came with gravy and a tasty, tangy rhubarb compote. Once again, the vegetables, potatoes, and other sidings were done to perfection. 

My dinner ended with a Kahlua pudding that was good but had almost imperceptible Kahlua flavour — yet another indication that, while much is right with the Shipwright Cafe, some aspects could stand improving.

Despite the less-than-perfect ending to the meal, the Shipwright’s Cafe experience was a positive one — primarily because the restaurant clearly has flair with at least some of its dishes and because it is refreshing to have an alternative to the seafood shacks, family restaurants, diners, and pubs that are the normal fare on this island province. 

It’s not quite breakfast, it’s not quite lunch, but it comes with a slice of cantaloupe at the end.

That’s the famous definition of “brunch” from The Simpsons.

In Ottawa, the Masked Diner enjoyed another take on brunch at two places well worth visiting again — even if neither place served cantaloupe.

Benny’s Bistro (119 Murray Street, Ottawa) has been called one of Ottawa’s best-kept secrets, and you can see why from this picture.

The bistro is hidden away inside The French Baker, a popular Ottawa bakery. There is some minimalist signage for the bistro (you can see a small sandwich board sign in front of the entrance to the bakery), but if you were walking by, chances are you would notice only the bakery.

Those in the know, however, will walk right into the bakery and make their way through the easy-to-miss corridor that leads to the inner area that is Benny’s Bistro. It’s like walking into somebody’s (very large) kitchen, as there’s no physical separation of dining and cooking areas. The atmosphere is cozy, and the service is friendly and informal (so informal that your server, after clearing away your dishes, will empty the dregs of the meal into a garbage can in plain view of all the diners).

Benny’s ambience may be homey and pleasant, but it’s the food and the coffee that make it a worthwhile dining experience. You can get pretty standard brunch fare at Benny’s — an omelette, for example. But for the best Benny’s experience, choose from one of their creative brunch offerings instead — things like double creamed brie stuffed French toast, or organic forest mushroom & pearl barley risotto.

It was difficult to choose, but the Masked Diner finally settled for the C$16 savoury buckwheat pancake — essentially a wrap packed with smoked pork shoulder and shaved Gruyere cheese. The pancake, apparently pressed in one of those sandwich presses you find in panini shops, was topped with a sunnyside-up egg, and was served with a side of apple and Savoy cabbage salad.

It looks like a small meal, but looks are deceptive. (Want a standard large breakfast? Try Zak’s.) The pancake is not just tasty but is filling as well — and besides, you’re given a generous sampling of bread from The French Baker on the side.

Complementing the meal perfectly is a cup of Illy coffee (not included with the meal, but well worth the C$2.75, which also gives you free refills). In MD’s experience, not all Illy coffee is created (or brewed) equal, but at Benny’s, they apparently do it right — even if the coffee is served from one of those accursed coffee dispensers with the push tops (usually a sure sign of mediocre coffee at chain coffee shops).

If you’re in Ottawa and have a hankering for brunch with a little more culinary flair than your favourite diner, Benny’s is a secret well worth discovering.

At the start of what turned out to be an amazing dinner at Restaurant Toast! in Quebec City, the Masked Diner had to laugh out loud when he opened the menu. There, beside the day’s specials, was a page entitled “Allergies? Let’s talk about it!”, with messages from the owner and the chef. See below for the messages:

Restaurant Toast! serves fantastic and imaginative food (much of it involving generous servings of foie gras!), and offers a relaxed ambience and friendly service — but the feather in its cap is that it obviously doesn’t take itself too seriously. Here’s a toast to Toast!

Selling food by the pound isn’t exactly a new idea, but a restaurant in NYC’s Koreatown, Woorijip (12 West 32nd Street), excels in the implementation. At less than $7 per pound, the food is cheap — and, what’s more, it’s varied and delicious as well.

The starting point at Woorijip isn’t your table. It’s the line at a long buffet table offering easily 20 different dishes — for example, kimchi noodles, chicken wings, various types of tofu, bulgogi beef, and soba noodles. You choose your food, then bring your groaning tray to the cashier, where you then pay according to weight — the weight of the food, that is, not your weight. Then go find a seat, cafeteria-style. The seating can be a little tight, but once you’ve tucked into your food, you won’t care.

If you don’t know what a pound of food looks like have a look at the photo above (vegetables, spicy potatoes, grilled squid, sweet and sour pork, vegetable omelette, and mackerel). It’s an understatement to say that you can eat very well indeed at Woorijip.

Woorijip means “our house”, which is very appropriate, because the food feels like home cooking. And because when I am in New York, I will practically live at Woorijip.

A note to entrepreneurs in my own fair city of Toronto: Get with it! We need a place like Woorijip in our K-town!