Viet Grill and His and Her Sinks

*CLOSED*

You'd think six months in Vietnam would be more than enough time to engorge yourself on some of the most fragrantly masked food in the world. Why one would want to come back from their travels and pay five times as much for a bowl of pho is beyond me. Who are we kidding, no it isn't. I'd probably do the same. You know how I feel about Boston Pizza.

So, upon my friend's arrival home, one of the first things she did was ask me out to eat. I had a couple places in mind. Vietnamese was not one of them. But, she missed the food. Already. So, how could I object? Now, the question was, where? Believe me, it didn't take long. Kitchener Waterloo has an array of Vietnamese food spots. A lot of which come and go, changing with the seasons, unfortunately. Usually, the better ones give way to the cheaper. Here, Vietnamese food, unless combined with other geographic culinary locales, like Thailand (it's usually just Thailand and Vietnamese), doesn't normally do so well on its own, unless it's situated in a prime location. The Vietnamese food genre, at least in this town, has the presence of a fast food industry. There's almost always two particular dishes that sell for cheap and are bought by the general population. The ever popular beef pho, and the even more ever popular pad thai: the big mac of South East Asia, if you will. Generally made from a sauce combination of Ketchup, MSG, and peanut butter. It's hit or miss everywhere. There's only one place where I like pad thai (which, is in fact a Thai dish). Beef pho on the other hand, is generally good wherever you go. There must be some kind of secret beef pho society where everyone gets together and decides how it should taste. But if you're ever trying Vietnamese for the first time, beef pho epitomizes the idea of their cuisine. Filling ingredients, some of which may seem unappetizing, like thin raw slices of beef, in a fragrant, clean smelling broth, made from beef and flavoured with herbs like coriander, mint and purple basil, as well as the allusive Vietnamese balm. I did not make that last one up. It's actually lemon mint. If that sounds squeemish, there are so many pho variations that you're bound to find something you like. What's essential is the fragrant, flavourful broth, usually made by stewing beef with spices like clove and coriander. And I'm personally such a sucker that whenever I go to a Vietnamese place, promising I'll get something new, I almost always crack for a big bowl of pho. The largest anyone has. Which usually sells for under 9 dollars. And it's more than filling.


Viet Grill has been around for months now, and I always made a note of going to try it out. Today I finally had the chance.
The locale of the restaurant's situated in noneother than the Hong Kong plaza of downtown kitchener, my favourite food locale in the city. Unfortunately, with so many different Vietnamese locations throughout Kitchener and Waterloo, this restaurant may have picked a poor spot. It's unfortunate, because the place has promise. Then again, I also thought that for the last Vietnamese restaurant that was in the exact same location about a year ago. Here's hoping I'm wrong.

Viet Grill strays away from the stereotypical decor of fake plastic marble and green tones that usually frequent most Vietnamese joints, though it retains that nostalgic character in its choice of tables and chairs (of which I am grateful for). The place took a more contemporary turn for the masses. Pastel coffee coloured walls, an edgy flat screen tv on the wall (always a necessity in these joints) and an open concept bar/place to pay for your food. Don't forget- the generic abstract paintings, one of which my friend labelled, "balls to the wall," after I had turned the phrase multiple times at the table and we had both likened the painting to a picture of multiple phallus. Yes, I know. I should have taken a photo. Alas.

But friends, here's the pièce de résistance . . .

Usually, I'm not one to visit the washroom in a place. But today was a different story. And before I go on the absolute winning quality of this place's decor, let me first, set the mood.

Remember being a kid, and watching whatever tv show, where a person enters whatever delapitated, run down treehouse, portapotty, or make shift pee hole, full of hesitation, only to discover that on the other side is an elaborate and beautiful victorian lavoratory on the other end? Of course you do, I could name twenty shows with the shtick in it.
Well imagine, the average Vietnamese restaurant, trying to make its way in the Vietnamese restaurant world with all the other established Vietnamese restaurants, and you have to go to the bathroom, but you dread its poor decor, its (potentially) single soap dispenser, and it's yellow porcelain, cramped toilet, only to discover that you enter through the door marked "washroom" to find, no toilet, but yet another room with HIS and HER sinks, BOTH with their own soap dispensers (attached to the wall I might add)! That's right! Even the sinks have heir own rooms! And, beside each sink, a door leading to its respective gendered washroom. Unfortunately, there's only one paper towel dispenser. But imagine! Just imagine, all the chance encounters that may happen there, man meets woman, either embarassed, or in love. A 24 year old cop, a 20 something year old food service worker. Washed out camera angles, seedy cities. Very romantic. Very, Chung King Express. It was decided, with washroom's like that, I'd be back soon.


But who cares about washrooms- what did I eat! You're in for a treat, because the menu's cheap. So affordable, you could feed two people for just over 15 dollars with the portions they pass out at this joint. It was wonderful.
We were greeted by the restaurants more than curtious hostess, immediately sitting us down and telling us what we absolutely had to eat. Whether this was general enthuse for food or money, I wasn't too apt to find out, because I was sure it was the later. Regardless, Viet Grill has a special that runs Mondays to Wednesday and that's a large (I mean large) bowl of beef pho for 4.99. It's so big, my friend added, that you could bathe a baby in it. They're not even that big in Vietnam itself. Sold. Next up for grabs was something that no other Vietnamese place I've been to has. And that was, which my friend had to repeat to me several times in order to remember the name, banh xeo: the sizzling cake. Or, egg crepe, influenced, no doubt, by the French who occupied Vietnam for so long. Essentially, the dish, also extremely large for its price of 7.99, came with a dish of mixed and fragrant greens that you wrap around whatever piece you decide to break off with your hand. The crepe itself was filled with random ingredients such as shrimp, bean sprouts, and pork, all of which could have been left in or out depending on preference, or so we were told. I'll try again next time, because good god, it was delicious. My only regret about the crepe itself was that it was literaly folded over the filling after being cooked, and not cooked to a degree so it would adhere to the ingredients and avoid spilling out when ripped off. Aside from that, its sweet, nutty flavour influenced by the onions fried into it and the sesame oil used to cook it, made it a remarkably flavourful dish, what with the meat fillings and multiple herbs to compliment it. It was love. And the pho? Tasted like pho should taste. full bodied, and fragrant, like a wine. Did that come off to fathead like? It was supposed to. Even with a cold I could recognize the flavours. And aside from the odd pieces of fat tenderly left in the soup broth, it was more than satisfying. The broth alone had a sweetness about it. The noodles, bite. No chewy, annoying tendons. Viet Grill definitely is a diamond in the rough.


So, after a long talk about my poor luck with women, my yearnings to be like the kids in Weird Science, and the wonderful choice of tea paraphernalia Viet Grill served tea in, I was out the door, but not before visiting the washroom one more time. This time, only to look at it. I'm serious; even if you don't go for the food, go for the bathroom. And a stellar 15 dollar meal, after tax.

Yes dear reader, there was nothing left to do but come home, write a satisfying food review and watch Kelly LeBrock to my heart's content, before she let herself go.

His and her sinks. I still can't believe it.
Viet Grill

265 King Street East
Kitchener, ON N2G 4N4

519 571-9339‎

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Eating smoked herring

Eating smoked herring the right way, is like kissing a girl the right way. In fact, if you can eat smoked herring well, you can kiss a girl more than well.

Let's consider it, shall we? Herring is a delicate fish, with hundreds of tiny little bones that runn along its flesh. Of course, their not too tough, you could probably eat them, but you also risk the chance of having one caught in your throat, and choking. It takes patience, it takes finesse. The unfamiliar person would mash the flesh with their fingers and fish out the bones, pulling them away from the flesh and consuming that little bit at a time. But, any smoked herring aficionado will tell you, you must put a piece in your mouth and delicately massage the flesh off the bone, simultaneously feeling for the bones themselves, separating it so that you bring the flesh to the back of your throat, while bringing what bones you have to the front of your teeth. With enough practice, you can pull every bone out, having such a feel for its soft, airy texture that you'll never worry or even think about choking while eating fish again.

Now consider the later. Rushing in to kiss a woman, mashing your tongue in there without patience or without any finesse. How might that end? If she's drunk, she probably won't notice, but in that case, she probably won't remember you later. If you're into that sort of thing, you're into that sort of thing. Otherwise, any well to do girl might slap you hard, or laugh in your face after the fact. But if you can remember that herring, or, when eating herring, remember that girl, your tongue may become an appropriate guide that not only communicates soft, delicate touch, but that says, I can lead you, all-the-while making her feel safe, delicate, and not worrisome about choking or any kind of bit lip- unless, of course, she's into that sort of thing. You may very well make her melt in your mouth (pardon the pun) if you can remember how to eat smoked herring. With tenderness, patience, and finesse.

Doesn't that sound appetizing. But, a word of advice: just don't eat herring before kissing a woman.

Weezee

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Food for Thought

As I spent the night eating in a loud, energetic Boston Pizza, loving the fact that I myself am a sucker for bright lights, open spaces, music, and young, attractive wait staff, I found myself wondering, why? Why would I spent a solid 50 dollars for dinner at a place that offers generic, more or less, everyday American food, when this city is alive with culinary, cultural prowess? Granted, the food was delicious. But that was so expected, so necessary. It tasted like food at a place like Boston Pizza, or East Side Mario's should- generic. Pardon my redundancy (or should you?). On top of that, why deny yourself the opportunity for experience, rather than safety or deja vu, especially when the benefit outweighs the cost? I love a good culinary gamble. And when I spend 6.49 for a starter of yam fries with chipotle sauce, I don't feel very adventurous. I feel, instead, sheltered, uneducated, unsophisticated, ripped off. Foolish. Especially knowing that there is a world elsewhere.

Of course, there is never anything wrong with going to those familiar places. Sometimes you need the food; sometimes you need the "ITIS." But don't limit yourself, dear reader. We're lucky enough to live in a multicultural space con comidas. So I encourage you to eek out every hole in the wall that you can. Not only are you saving your wallet from whatever hole; you're saving the hard workers running those mom and pop shops. You may very well be saving your pallete, as well. But you'll never know until you look around. And besides, the Man has enough money anyway, why give him practically double the money for food you eat practically everyday, and at a franchise for that matter?

So again, I encourage you, as a fathead, who at this very moment is drinking his banana and dragon well tea, to get out there, and look for interesting, delapitated, yet delicious places to eat, where filling meals aren't 50 dollars, but 25 or even 15 for the single person. It's a new world, with more and more new dishes everyday.

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Bagels! Think of a Clever Title for Bagels!

 
I fell in love with a Jewish girl once. Her name was Becky. She was a firecracker. Mouthy, dark haired, liked movies like Battle Royale, went to Mecca, got drunk in subways, posted her antics on youtube. Very sexy. Very, My Sassy Girl. I went to get sushi with her once. As I recall, the night ended with a solid punch in my stuffed stomach. Two punches, actually. Both unexpected. Good god, to go back there.
I always asked her about food. Obviously. More importantly, I always asked her about marriage. She said her dad was an ambulance chaser. I said, what if I went to law-school? She said, sure. I'd narrate how we'd spend our days together: we'd live in Montreal, in the Jewish community. Obviously. Go out for bagels, go to temple, go home, make falafels, go to whatever cock-fight we'd be able to find. It was a potentially thrilling lifestyle. I couldn't wait. Unfortunately, I never went to law school. Unfortunately, she moved back home. Unfortunately, she didn't care much for bagels. And unfortunately, she still owes me a pie. Cherry.
Any place that makes bagels from scratch in this town is a rare find. I would think there's more than one. That said, I know there is one. Whether they boil them and then bake them, I've yet to see. I have seen them bake them, however. But, in our bad economic times, bagels are a luxury. Especially ones baked from a genuine bagel man. So, if you've just been laid and wanna impress that special someone even more with an early morning adventure to a spot that sells "real" bagels (define "real" here), have I got the place for you. Sure, sure, sure; you could go to the grocery store, where the bagels are cheaper, and might even taste better, but it's all about feeling a little cultured. For something as mediocre as a bagel, food is one of two things: either nostalgia, or propaganda. Nostalgia for the person who grew up eating a particular dish and associating it with whatever good memory (your dear narrator and congee, for example) or, propaganda for the person introducing the food to whatever other person. It is a representation of their character, of their "taste" for the finer things in life. Like I've said before, I've had some pretty good mush. Ever eat bitter Thai vegetable soup? Looks like mush, smells like dog food. Tastes delicious. I'd never, though- okay, I would- but a gentleman, would never introduce it to a lady they'd like to court. No no, that's not kosher. But bagels, my friends . . . imagine: getting up early on a Saturday morning and taking a quaint walk to the local bagel shop, coffee in hand. Can you smell the semantics? I know I can.

  

Rise and Shine Bagels, open three times a week (Thursday, Friday & Saturday from 7:30 - 2:30; subject to change) has been around for a while. A long while. Probably longer than me. Why I never heard of it before? I could talk your ear off. But, that's not important. What's important is that it's there, it's local, it's socially conscious. It's kind of expensive. For bagels. But, does the taste offset the cost? At .75 a pop, I'm not so sure. But, I haven't tried all of their bagels, and their bagels are constantly changing with the seasons. Literally. I was told that they change their bagel menu every number of months. So, if say, for winter, you like cranberry bagels only, I can point you in the right direction. But even that's liable to change.

But why go then to a place that's constantly changing the menu, especially when you can go get a bagel from the Man for less money and year-round? Well, the taste for one. And the size. I mean, in theory, that's why I'd go. That's why I thought I was going. That, and my strange fascination with bakery atmospheres. My grandfather was a baker.

I got one of two things. Size. But not taste. The flavour of these bagels was nothing special. They tasted like bagels. Now, maybe I don't eat enough bagels or compare bagels enough. Maybe I built up the bagel in my mind, althewhile dreaming of life as a rabbi in Montreal. I don't know how bagels taste in New York either. They may taste even better. They may have that magic something. Did I find it at Rise and Shine Bagels? No. Not yet. Maybe someday, if the bagels keep changing. Maybe if stranger ingredients are introduced and I have a reason to get bagels there rather than at grocery stores.

Sure, there are reasons to buy from Rise and Shine Bagels. Buying locally is a great reason; so is the experience, even if once. It's the journey, not the destination after all. But, the size of the bagels don't really offset the cost either, unfortunately. Nor does the shelf life. They get hard fast. So, unless you plan on eating 6 in a day or two, maybe it's best you shop elsewhere.

 

There is one quirk to buying from Rise and Shine, and that just may be the peculiar way business is run: through trust. That's right. There's essentially prices written on the walls and a pile of money beside a coffee machine (pardon the blurry photo), where-in-which you leave your pay and take your change. How many times have they been ripped off? I hope none. I left them something extra though. Just in case. And I'm sure many do. But we should never, EVER feel sorry for a cook, or a baker. It's a rich lifestyle, and a proud job, full of story, aromas, and, of course, good food.

So don't let my fathead experience deter you. You can still be a fathead yourself, after getting laid, after getting up early, after taking someone to this fab bagel shop in town. It's beautiful. And hopefully, your lay will be too.

Rise and Shine Bagels
52 Bridgeport Rd East,
Waterloo, ON
519-572-2495
Thurs-Sat 7:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m.

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