As the only proper Moroccan restaurant in Toronto, Morocco House does a valiant job in offering the renowned dishes of that country. It’s strange that there aren’t more Moroccan restaurants. It’s fun to eat off a tagine and there can be so many delicious preparations of couscous that is not just a salad afterthought.
Considering the large Ukrainian population in Toronto, there is a surprising lack of standout Ukrainian restaurants. Barrel House Korchma easily vaulted to the top spot when it opened last year. The ambience and cookery certainly merits this.
What I like about Barrel House Korchma is that it goes beyond the common Eastern European fare of cabbage rolls, vareniki (dumplings), and sausages. But if you are looking for those, Barrel House Korchma does them well.
One day I will write an article of how I searched London in vain for delicious traditional British food. Well, I should have just come to Kitchen on Sixth in New Toronto instead. They do all the classics justice and even surpass the originals with their contemporary flair.
Kitchen on Sixth got its name from its original location at 6th Avenue. They’ve since moved two blocks west, to 8th Avenue. They’ve kept the old moniker but cheekily crossed out the word “on” and replaced it with “Kitchen off Sixth” on their store window.
Updated on 2021-10-19 to include Las San Sivar and Pupuseria Delicias Costa del Sol. Rankings have changed.
Ever since Emporium Latino burned down in October 2020, it left a pupusa-shaped hole in my heart. It was where I had pupusas for the first time and I still have fond memories of their comforting masa and spicy curtido. I’ve struggled to find a comparable replacement. When it seemed like Emporium Latino was not destined to re-open, it was time to journey across Toronto for a worthy successor.
Pupusas are emblematic of El Salvador cuisine. In fact, I visited the country solely to eat pupusas. Pupusas are corn flour pancakes stuffed with various ingredients and then toasted on a griddle. The corn flour used is invariably Maseca.
Traditional fillings don’t have a lot of range. It’s any combination of:
The popular combination of frijoles, queso, and chicharrón has its own name: pupusa revuelta. Also known as pupusa con todo (with everything).
Pupusas are usually accompanied by curtido and salsa de tomate. Curtido is a lightly fermented cabbage and carrot slaw, seasoned with oregano and doused with vinegar. Salsa de tomate translates to tomato sauce, but really, it’s a tomato soup.
Places that sell pupusas are called pupuserias.
For the pupusa itself, it’s form, ingredients, and flavour.
The best pupusas are perfectly round and of uniform thickness. Surfaces are flat with minimal finger indentations. It should be toasted golden with some brown splotches. The dough shouldn’t be too thick like a gordita. But if chefs make it too thin, they run the risk of the filling bursting out of the shell when heated. While some may like the caramelization and burnt bits from leaked fillings, I prefer an intact pupusa. It demonstrates the skill of the chef. Almost all pupusas in this test failed on this front.
The choice of ingredients also reflect a premium pupusa. Queso fresco is more expensive than mozzarella and has a more crumbly texture and stronger taste. Loroco is not a common ingredient in Toronto and some chefs may be stingy with it. For chicharrón, chefs have latitude in the pork cuts and aromatics used. Ingredients should be well-mixed and distributed evenly within the pupusa.
Finally, flavour matters the most. The masa (corn dough) should have a warm corn fragrance. The pupusa should not be shining in oil. For pupusas de queso y loroco (cheese and loroco), the herb should meld with the cheese and add pleasant crunch. For pupusas revueltas, the ratio of meat, beans, and cheese is key. All three should be discernible but also harmonize.
I don’t put much weight to the curtido and salsa de tomate. They play second fiddle and are not something people would buy on their own. Personally, I like a mildly fermented and acidic curtido. The knife skills of the chef will be evident from the consistency and thinness of the chopped vegetables. For salsa de tomate, the best ones are fresh, filled with pulp, and have moderately complex flavours from herbs like onions and bell peppers. Bad ones are one-dimensional and taste like canned tomato soup.
Cien por ciento Salvadoreño is a modest restaurant nestled in a quiet residential area. You can tell it’s family-run with children playing behind the counter.
The pupusas had a moderate aroma. They were crisp and mottled black.
Continue reading “Where to the get the best pupusas in Toronto”
The iconic Central European food is undoubtedly the schnitzel, a thin, breaded slab of meat. It’s filling and easy to make, which explains its popularity outside the region. Witness cotoletta (Italy) and milanesa (Argentina and Brazil).
But we are not here to talk about something that is famous enough already. Today, we go on a tour of the second-most iconic food of Central Europe: dumplings. These are the underappreciated workhorses that give the cuisine a reputation for being heavy and starchy. Not to be confused with Asian dumplings, these dumplings are bite-sized lumps of flour, potato, or egg. They are also universally bland, so the skill comes in the texture and shape.
Toronto is blessed to have full representation of the dumplings of Central Europe: Germany/Austria/Switzerland, Czechia, Slovakia, and Hungary. (I left out Poland because their most famous dumpling, pierogi, is too divergent from the others. But if you are interested in Polish kopytka, Café Polonez is a good bet.)
One can easily go on a taste test around the city and debate which is the better variant. And that is exactly what I did.
Continue reading “The Central European dumplings of Toronto”
Every former Spanish colony has their version of empanada, which consists of some flat dough folded over some filling. Filipino empanadas are pedestrian. They are easy to find all over the Philippines but it is difficult to find a memorable one.
Super Bakers stands out for its unique dough. Empanadas are traditionally made with a pie dough. The ingenious twist from Super Bakers is to use hopia dough. This results in a short and flaky crust. It’s best enjoyed fresh from their bakery, even though they supply to other businesses in the city.
Hopia (好饼, literally good biscuit) has its origins in Fujian province in southern China. It was brought over to the Philippines by Fujianese migrants over a century ago. This sort of pastry is common in Southern China but isn’t called hopia. In fact, it doesn’t have a standard name. The name “hopia” probably derives from a category of confections, hipia (喜饼, literally wedding biscuit), of which hopia is one of them.
Whether in China or Philippines or Southeast Asia, the form is instantly recognizable: a palm-sized disc with sweet fillings inside. The dough is pale brown and flakey like French puff pastry, but without butter. It also crumbles more easily.
The difference with the Filipino adaption is in the filling. While mung beans are still the most popular filling in China and Philippines, a uniquely Filipino filling is ube (purple yam). Baboy (pork) is also common in the Philippines, but not so much in China.
Braai is the South African term for barbecue. Like all barbecues around the world, there isn’t a standard recipe. Just a bunch of people grilling meats and enjoying the outdoors. The difference in South Africa is that boerewors is more likely to make an appearance. Boerewors literally means farmer’s sausage in Afrikaans and Dutch. It consists of beef and mild spices and is almost always a long, thin coil. It does not have a distinctive taste.
Also like all barbecues, braai is a hit or miss affair. It can be exquisitely smokey or raw in the middle, overdone and dried out. I’ve had my fair share of bad braais in South Africa. Imagine my surprise when I came across this little eatery in Toronto that does a better braai than the ones I’ve tried in Johannesburg and Cape Town.
Plan B is the only South African restaurant in Toronto and its menu is summarized by its signboard: burgers and braai. Everything is made in house. There is no pork—it is halal. On the occasions I visited, I saw South African customers driving from far outside Toronto to get their fix. A testament to Plan B’s quality and also the scarcity of South African food in the region.
