In the House of the Green Fairy: Absinthe Café

One of our favourite spots in Wellington West is Absinthe Café, a contemporary restaurant where locavore meets modern European. The design reminds me of an upscale Prague bistro - attractive staff, lots of mirrors everywhere, and a nonchalant pride placed into every dish. I feel like this is a symbol of Ottawa's budding food maturity, but you have real food writers like Don, Jen and Claire; Katy or Kelly to remark on stuff like that. I'm just a guy that writes about burgers.

This is the first burger I've eaten under the "Likes Burgers" rubric that costs over $20. There is an irrational threshold of expectation that exists for ground beef that costs more than a Queen Liz. I feel like Mark Carney would chide me for making a financial decision like that, but I did effortlessly in the name of a blog that makes me no income in return. Irrational, I tell you. If dollars are the conversion of a unit of work into a unit of bling, than this burger would have to be nearly three times "better" than a Hintonburger, or else the price gap must be made up by service and sundries such as amuses bouches and bread. You expect that a chef would have to work around two to three times harder than his/her Hintonburgundian comrades.

And then there's opportunity cost, which my economic-minded readers will know, is defined as "that sinking moment of inner confusion when you realize that you just ordered a hamburger in one of the top restaurants in your area code." What wonderful creation could you be eating instead of that burger? Can a burger be that good as to outweigh a choice of something less traditional?

The object of my affection.

So now that you've slogged through three paragraphs of neuroses, you're wondering if the burger - called the Benevolence Burger - at Absinthe Café is worth it. It's an all-beef patty with house baconnaise, house-smoked bacon, aged cheddar, lettuce, and tomato on a house-baked brioche bun.

So how did it turn out? See how many times I used the word "house" up there? Remember that when you read on after the break.

Deliciously hip: the Hintonburg Public House

A few weeks ago, the esteemed rag New York Magazine published a thought-provoking and often hilarious review of Brooklyn's artisan food producing community. As centre of the hipster universe, Brooklyn's artisans tirelessly labour at making foods in their respective "old-fashioned" ways, producing delicious products the most inefficient means possible. It is based on the credence that hard work is to be respected, and gives the product a je ne sais quoi that exists beyond what can be sensed.

This is an ideological position, not really a rational one because the act of tasting and enjoying is a biochemical process; you can't taste "work," you can only smell and taste its product in the form of molecules. And yet so many insist that simple, fresh and earnestly constructed food tastes better than its lab-designed, processed competition despite the latter having millions of dollars and brilliant minds designing it to blow your socks off. Is it actually true, or do we just want it to be true? Weren't the Top Chef judges fooled by Connie's blueberry pie crust in Season 1? Where does molecular gastronomy fit in that continuum? It's an interesting debate in the food world that I don't believe is completely resolved.

The Hintonburg Public House burger is an embodiment of the hard work, painfully-wrought school of thought, a northern outpost of Brooklyn mastercraft. Everything is house made. Everything took a long time to do.

The HPH is a flagship for the encoolification of the district for which its named. It embodies the neighbourhood in every way: the furniture is reclaimed, plates and cutlery are scrounged antiques, and the menu is casual with a twist. Its cool vibe, good food, local brews on tap and forgiving pricing has made it an instant hit, such that the wife and I have tried three times to eat there to no avail. Rather than eat with the cool kids, we decided to go early bird to beat the rush so I could finally sink my teeth into their famous burger.


What is this cool cat? It's a beef patty with Russian dressing, thick-cut smoky bacon, grilled onions and pickles on a white bun. This is a new burger, recently added to the menu and replacing previous incarnations that were somewhat more controversial. There are lots of bits and bytes on the Internet debating the merits and drawbacks of the former burger with pickled vegetables on them.

Is this new offering any good? Read more to find out.

Petit Bill's Bistro

Intro

My wife and I had our first date at Petit Bill's Bistro, a delightful restaurant that spins French and Newfoundland cuisines together. Located at the corner of Wellington West and Smirle, Petit Bill's is one of those neighbourhood anchor joints that you get the feeling will have a long and healthy life as trends fly by.

The burger

"Bill's Burger" features a 100% beef patty from O'Brien Farms, lettuce, tomato and gorgonzola mayonnaise on a thick slice of well-toasted Art-Is-In cheddar baguette for $13. I opted for aged cheddar and double-smoked bacon, each $1.50 extra. The burger came with a good helping of thin-cut frites, the same that come with their famous lobster poutine, an Ottawa staple.

The patty was well-seasoned and moist, and at 6oz, a good portion. Despite the flavour sledgehammer that was the gorgonzola mayo, I could still taste the flavour and firm texture of the meat. The bun was fresh, ably absorbed juices and encased the burger nicely. It was toasted enough to provide a needed crunch. The cheddar in the bun was subtle and worked nicely with the cheddar on the burger - also subtle. Double-smoked bacon provided a nice dose of salt and was cooked to be nice and firm. So far so good.

It was dim, and I haven't worked up the courage to use the flash in a restaurant!

Gorgonzola mayo, like I mentioned, is serious business and it was the defining feature of an otherwise traditional offering. The cheese is an unskimmed, blue cow's milk cheese from northern Italy, and like its other blue cheese cousins provides a wonderfully sharp flavour with fungal after-notes. I should note that "fungal" is a positive term (for me) when describing cheeses. Much of the gorgonzola imported to Canada is often on the smooth rather than crumbly side, so mixed with mayo it makes a beautiful combination. That it did not overwhelm the simple beef was amazing and a big kudos in my books. It does, however, need a counterpoint.

The lettuce was unfortunately wilted and the tomato warm so they didn't provide enough crunch or freshness to balance the fat. A thick slice of red onion, or something edgier like pickled turnip, would have taken Bill's Burger from great to excellent.

I give the folks at Petit Bill's a big thumbs-up for supporting local producers of fine food products in their burger. 

Given the contemporary feel and casual-upscale stature of Petit Bill's, $13 is very good value. I would recommend adding bacon, but the cheddar is superfluous and doesn't substantially add to the burger.

The sides

Petit Bill's makes amazing thin cut fries. Soft with some residual crisp, skins on, not greasy. Served up with malt vinegar they're a great accompaniment. I paired the meal with a glass of 2009 Kingston Estate Petit Verdot from South Australia, whose full, peppery body was a great match for the burger.

BurgerDAR

Bill's Burger gets a 5/3/4. I definitely recommend.