Back in Black

The small charcuterie board

We at Food With Legs discovered the Black Hoof back in early March of 2009 and by “discovered” I mean “I read great reviews on BlogTO and Chowhound”.  Apparently, top-notch chefs have finally caught up to us. A few weeks ago Daniel Boulud and Paul Kahan (superstars of the New York and Chicago restaurant worlds, respectively) visited the Hoof and apparently ate through the whole menu–twice.  Not to be out-done Thomas Keller mentioned his desire to try Chef Grant van Gameren’s creations during his recent book promotion stop in Toronto.  To his discredit he didn’t actually make it in but, I suppose he can be forgiven because the Star article states that he has a weakness for a good fast food burger and Snickers bars–I can only dream of the day In-N-Out comes to Toronto and I have consumed my fair share of said candy.  I’m glad to see this spot get the publicity they deserve but can only imagine what would happen to my favourite Toronto restaurant if it were similarly endorsed by the likes of Bourdain or Batali.

I’m always impressed by the food and I think that has distracted me in my previous two posts from spending enough space writing about the cocktails.  This time around the concoction named An American in Paris caught the eye of my dining companion.  It has forceful but smooth anise notes and the combination of good vodka and well-balanced ingredients sent the sip I tried down with absolutely no burn.

It’s really difficult to pick a highlight from our meal.  At most restaurants the appetiser usually has the disadvantage of going first but obviously Toronto’s best charcuterie board is a tough act to follow.  Seven of the eight outstanding items this time were house-made.  I’m pretty sure that Ruhlman’s Charcuterie (my unscientific bet for the most popular book on the subject) specifically warns against using dill in meaty preparations but Chef van Gameren flaunts this convention by flavouring lardo with what seems to be his favourite herb.  The blueberry and bison salami is shockingly delicious–if pemican tasted anything like this there would have been a lot more volunteers for Arctic expeditions and fur-trapping ventures.  My recent experiences making chicken liver mousse made it easier to (graciously) pass on the last spoonful of the ethereal mousse here.

Smoked sweetbreads with creamy polenta

The smoked sweetbreads on polenta crossed another line through my to-try list without a hint of pretention.  First, to deal with the nomenclature I quote wikipedia: “Sweetbreads are the thymus (throat sweetbread) and the pancreas (heart or stomach sweetbread), especially of the calf and lamb (although beef and pork sweetbreads are also eaten).” The dish accomplishes two feats better left, in my view, to restaurant kitches: light and very creamy polenta (because no home cook really wants to know how much butter is needed to make it that way) and a delicate but very crunchy fried batter.  Each piece had the taste and texture that evoked those deliciously crusty, knobby bits on KFC chicken–without the over-cooked meat, copious grease or heavy-handed spices.  A luxurious ingredient presented in a comfortable and tasty way.

I guess the one big misstep I committed here was to stick with the Mike Duggan’s No. 9 IPA that paired so well with the charcuterie.  A sip of the beer too closely following a bite of sweetbreads left a strange metallic and dusty taste in my mouth that brought back memories of what high school classrooms smelled like.  Online resources seem to agree that sweetbreads are better paired with champagne or French white wines.  And actually the wine list was our table’s one complaint on the evening.  For a restaurant with so many local beer choices, homemade bitters, and such great in-house cured meats we would love to see more VQA on the card.

The testina paired with lentils on our first visit was a delicious and filling main.  It has evolved and the filling, earthy lentils have been replaced with pickled chanterelles.  The warm spices (some combination of cloves, cinammon, nutmeg, and allspice I’d guess) make these mushrooms taste exactly like Christmas.

The foie gras pb&j was so good that it was consumed before I could take its picture

I admit I have never made it to dessert at the Hoof.  On the first trip we could be excused for having already consumed a charcuterie board (or at least the meat on top of it), cauliflower soup with bone marrow, testina on lentils, and the stuffed pig’s snouts on happy cabbage.  This time we resolved that at the very least our meal would end by sampling the Hoof’s cheese selection.  Strangely when it came time to order we were hungry enough that cheese didn’t seem like it would be enough so instead fell back on the obvious dessert option: Foie Gras PB&J.  Not obvious to all?  Well, it should be.  A medallion of finely seared foie sits on top of a toasted piece of brioche and is accompanied by a light jelly and even lighter peanut butter foam.  Peanut butter foam makes perfect sense; the only reason I’ll accept for disliking (different than having a lethal allergy to the stuff) peanut butter is its admittedly sticky texture.  This dish simultaneously balances flavours and intrigues by tweaking strong food memories.

My only knock against the Black Hoof the first time around was that while waiting for a table we had to walk several blocks for a drink with the “interesting” crowd at the Press Club.  This situation is about to be resolved when the Hoof Cafe opens across Dundas Street.  The space will serve the tri-partite purpose of pre-dinner drinks, weekend brunch, and a retail outlet for cured meat.  I know it won’t be long before I head back for the Hoof’s take on brunch.