with bread from Prairie Boy, a butter
that tickles your tongue with the thrill
that only overfat butter can bring, and
topped with little flecks of Maldon salt
to crunch between the teeth. This is the
kind of dining that helps one remember
why we love to eat out.
From the sublime to the sandwich
Turkey meatloaf. Who knew? At
Dundas Park Kitchen, Alex Tso and
Melanie Harris have been quietly mak-
ing chicken pot pies, fruit galettes, and
meatloaf sandwiches that are stagger-
ingly delicious. Turkey meatloaf makes
one think of forgoing flavor for health,
is now rubbing shoulders with social
media heavies flashing tats and talking
about colorways. Cash only. (GvG has
also opened a dive bar on Queen West
called Pretty Ugly that is tiny, candlelit,
and filled with oceans of mezcal. Hip-
Brothers has opened above the Bay
subway station and it is a rare thing
in Toronto’s restaurant scene: a place
where the menu is as understated and
simple as the decor. Puntarelle is served
ice cold, tossed with a garlic-heavy vinaigrette and topped with an anchovy.
Gnocchi come in a dish with rabbit
and prunes. Clams are purple-tinged
and steamed in white wine, served
ersatz products. That is not the case
here. The turkey meatloaf here is like
a Wonderbra; it lifts and separates your
brain and your palate, lifting both to
a higher plain while separating them
from the prosaic earth. Please take the
time on your next trip to hit up DPK
and get a turkey meatloaf to go. Warn-
ing: don’t try to share it with anyone.
We did and it almost ended in divorce,
Jerry Springer style!
Speaking of peameal... oh, we
weren’t? Well, why the hell not? You
Americans need to gain a deeper understanding of peameal bacon (aka Canadian bacon), especially since you’re
all going to be living here soon (at
least according to your frantic Google
searches since the election).
You might think you do, but you
don’t really know peameal. Not yet anyway. There is a new place in the Junction called When The Pig Came Home.
The peameal is an inch thick, the buns
are crusty yet soft, the mayo is placed
there as though from the hand of God.
No earthly being has ever doled out
mayonnaise so exquisitely in proportion to meat and bread until now. Maybe it is some kind of Touched by An
Angel storyline where Della Reese has
to make perfect sandwiches for a time
before cradling some poor sinner to her
bosom. I don’t know, but—whatever is
going on with the sandwich artists at
TPCH—it is one of those things that
you just don’t question. Accept it and
Also, you can get it with bacon. My
friend Matt says, “Isn’t that redundant?” but we ordered peameal bacon
sandwiches with crispy bacon and,
praise the lord, it is not redundant at
Ivy and Kerry Knight are food writers based in Toronto.
They have been published in the Toronto Star,
Munchies and The Globe and Mail.
TOP LEFT: Brothers: Chris White (manager and co-owner), Courtney Stebbins (sommelier),
Jonathan Nicolau (chef and co-owner); TOP RIGHT: Ryan Gatner, owner, When The Pig Came
Home; BELOW: Peameal bacon sandwich with the works