My Flavour Journey

My favourite part of food is the memory that becomes associated with it.

You can be on a train in another country, and one whiff of someone’s meatloaf sandwich takes you right back to childhood. Yellow mustard mixed with cold beef. The comforting hot meal that it came from the night before. It makes me want my mom something fierce.

So thinking about flavour combinations this month has me distracted and all over the place.  Flavours and ingredients are bouncing around in my head like commuters on the F train. I’m thinking: lemon + thyme, kaffir lime + coconut, bourbon + pecan, dark chocolate + espresso, tarragon + white wine + garlic, avocado + bacon….

Dizzy with not only food combinations but recipes I must make and cravings that wake me only a few hours after going to bed, I realize something.

Although there are some timeless combos (gin + tonic, bbq sauce + ribs, lamb + rosemary), you can tell a lot about the current year from the combinations that you see while dining out, picking up the latest cooking magazine and browsing the aisles at the supermarket. The trends seep in without you even realizing it (lobster + vanilla was hot there for a while).

My combinations fall into three distinct categories: the ones I grew up with, the ones I put together while cooking, and those that I savour at restaurants.

It’s funny that after all these years of reviewing restaurants, I leave certain combinations to the pros. Some of my fondest memories are of really intriguing dishes I’ve had while dining around town.

Like strawberry and salmon risotto. At Era Oro, the Risotto al Salmone was composed of al dente risotto swathed in a mild curry cream with fresh Atlantic salmon chunks and sliced strawberries spumante. Each and every bite was fascinating.

At Dhaba, a modern Indian restaurant, I had a starter that combined many flavours and textures. Avocado Chaat Papdi came enveloped in a vibrant radicchio-leaf bowl, and featured soft chunks of avocado, homemade crunchy wafers, sweet potatoes, garbanzo peas, tamarind yogurt, mint chutney and golden vermicelli. It was creamy and crunchy, soft and soothing.  I’ve never had anything like it.

It’s de rigueur now, but back in the day, pairing foie gras or game with blueberries or other fruit would be c-r-a-z-y. At Tappo, one of the menu highlights created by chef Marco was the Fegato di Anitra; the foie gras of the day. It was seared and served with champagne arugula risotto with turmeric-infused olive oil and blueberry coulis. The unexpected pairing of duck and blueberry delighted my senses. It was like a New Year’s Eve celebration in my mouth.

No one does foie gras like chef Paul Böehmer. At his latest restaurant, Böehmer, he’s got his signature dish on the menu: Pan-seared Quebec foie gras with maple-glazed matzu apples and blackcurrant puree. It sells out all the time. No wonder.

Just last week, I attended a James Beard Experience Dinner, where the chef served an elegant licorice-lacquered duck breast with summer cherry conserve. I’m still thinking about it.

Another surprise was chestnut and chorizo soup at Torito. It too was kind of edgy at the time. This was not the chestnut I knew from cheap Chinese take-out. Alongside the smoky, spicy chorizo, the flavour of the chestnut came through and hit all the flavour zones. It changed how I thought about chestnuts.

Desserts are now pushing the edge as well—chocolate with chili, chocolate with salt—but years ago, they were pretty tame. So when these combinations came onto the scene, it seemed pretty revolutionary. The first “weird” dessert pairing I had was at Senses, a high-end restaurant. It was 2001, I think, and I will never forget it. I was entertaining an editor and her husband while they were in town. They treated me to an insanely expensive dinner, and they said I could take them somewhere for dessert in return. The place was brand new, and the city was buzzing with praise for its modern menu. They both wanted ice cream, and the least scary flavour was ginger and basil. Ew, I thought. I don’t like ice cream to begin with, so the weird pairing wasn’t making it any more enticing. But I was stunned into silence by its depth and nuance. And then I wouldn’t shut up about it….

At Niagara Street Café, I had fresh muskmelon with sherry vinegar, honey and hyssop-flavoured soy milk. Ribbons of melon curled over a plate of white foam with shades of dark vinegar. The idea was perplexing but the result was sheer delight—it was not overly sweet and the vinegar added an unexpected zing that left the palate cleaned and refreshed.

My journey continues, both when I’m out reviewing restaurants and cooking at home. In fact, a friend just posted a recipe on her blog for tomato soup cake. That sounds just right.