For Torontonians, the quaint city of Stratford, Ontario — 96 miles from downtown — is a theatre getaway as much as it is a culinary destination. For Chef, the scale leans heavy on the latter side. Stratford was the birthplace of his career in the kitchen and home to his alma mater, the Stratford Chefs School. For Chef to bring me along to Savour Stratford — the city’s pride culinary festival — on this particular trip, his first visit back to the city since his graduation in 2006, was agonizingly comparable to bringing me to a high school reunion, except I wouldn’t even get a nametag. I could have used one that said: “Hello, my name is Jennifer, and no, I do not work in the industry.”
After an early morning car ride to Stratford, during which time I learned the bio of what had to be every chef that ever breezed through the city, I was happy to arrive at the Stewart House Inn. I had just enough time to stretch my legs and do the Sunday Times crossword puzzle in the peace of the inn’s warm, old world ballroom before heading to the festival tents, a looming stone’s throw away from Stewart House in the city centre, and entering the buzz of exuberant “foodie” chat.
In all its Victorian grandeur — the sweeping staircase and crystal chandeliers, the tranquility of the leafy backyard garden and pool (kept at 80 degrees for fall swims) and the inviting hearth in the ballroom (not to mention our bedroom, The Georgian Room) — the Stewart House is unsurpassed in homespun comfort, appearing to have been transplanted from another city somewhere across the great Atlantic pond. Still, it is nothing if not distinctly Stratford, i.e. steeped in the culinary arts. The in-house chef is a former Stratford Chefs School graduate, while the inn’s owner and proprietor, Marc Armstrong, was on his way out to a festival luncheon when we arrived — both were obviously on their side. There was no escaping it: food was everywhere I turned in Stratford.
The Stewart House Inn (image: Jennifer Lee)
Chef and I arrived at the tents just after noon, collected our sets of plates and wine glasses and embarked on a two-hour tasting tour of the two main tents, which featured the best of Perth County as prepared by 30 chefs, paired with local producers and complemented by VQA wines and craft brews. By the end, our stomachs were bulging, mine slightly more pronounced than Chef’s. The reason: for every station we visited where he personally knew the chef or purveyor (or happened to run into an old classmate or fellow chef in town for the festival), I helped myself to two or three more samplings at said station; I ate at least five of the organic mushroom pops with tomatillo relish being handed out by Chef Aaron Linley of Bijou at his tasting station with Weth Mushrooms, and simply stopped counting the number of mini goat cheese and jam-filled donuts that disappeared at Chef Jonathan Gushue of Langdon Hall’s station, shared with Monforte Dairy. Talk about the availability of quality goat’s milk ate up a lot of time there.
I could have lingered a few samplings longer with sister duo Kristene Steed and Suzanne Steed at their station for Rheo Thompson Candies and Steed and Company Lavender, munching on their lavender ginger chocolate creation. Regrettably though, I only tasted one piece. Greedy chocolate goblin that I am, I had already moved on to their deliciously velvety milk chocolate peanut butter cup while Chef was still dissecting the flavours of the lavender ginger chocolate. His bias was immediate; as I was to learn, Chef harbours a deep contempt for the little purple flower in this chocolate. Apparently, early in his career, he was responsible for meticulously plucking and placing three lavender buds on top of oysters for his chef’s amuse-bouche. He did this 85 times over a night: hence his hatred for lavender.
Predisposed to disbelieve in the happy co-existence of lavender, ginger and chocolate, Chef was reluctant to share even a bite with me after his first taste. Typically, lavender is overly floral in sweets — especially when used to infuse chocolate — but the Steeds’ recipe showcased the quality of the chocolate, as it should, according to Chef. The lavender was a pleasant undertone, while the subtle addition of ginger was a delightful piquant afterthought that Chef praised for the way it hung onto the palette.
Toronto residents who can’t make the trip to Stratford for a visit to Rheo Thompson Candies can order online, an especially handy option around the holiday season when the store offers delivery on its delectable seasonal gifts.
Chef barely finished swallowing before he rushed us over to the Le Clos Jordanne winery’s station. Chef was fanatical about it. Turns out the winery’s Chardonnay wears a badge of international prestige legendary amongst vine folk: it is celebrated for having won a blind tasting for Cellier magazine back in 2009, where it went up against 16 red and 14 white wines, the majority being of French and Californian decent.
Chef gushed with the brand ambassador about the grace found in the wine’s residual sweetness and how “dangerously well it drinks” due to its perfect balance of acidity and minerality. Then, after extended talk about the unique quality of the vineyard’s “terrior” (particularly back in 2006, their award winning year), they both transformed into everymen, suddenly poking fun at wine nerds and their affected “hint of rubber band” tasting notes. No, Chef doesn’t care a stitch about notes of leather or crisp flavour profiles — he is just a regular undiscerning thirsty wine drinker, perfectly content with having three types of wine muddled in his glass like me (and possibly a splash of left over Flying Monkeys Amber Ale). The only difference between this wine pedestrian and I is: were I to speak about the soil of a vineyard, I would call it by its English name: terrain. Wine nerd or not, a bottle of Le Clos Jordanne is well worth a trip to your local LCBO; just ask for the Chardonnay showing notes of candied lemon and a bit of toasted bread.
(Image: Terry Manzo)
After quenching our thirst, it seemed appropriate to soak up some salt. Guided by barbecue smoke, we found just that at Nick and Nat's Uptown 21 and Perth Pork Products station, where we were treated to a taste of “Porkapoluza” (pictured at top), an extravaganza of tender Berkshire pork belly, tangy slaw and chichirones (seasoned and fried pork rind), placed on top a grilled tortilla.
Perth Pork Products is one of the purveyors to Chef’s restaurant, and farmer Fred de Martines is amongst his favourite suppliers. So while the two talk about how Chef likes to confit de Martines’ Tamworth pork belly in its own fat to amplify the pork’s natural flavour without interruption — a flavour he describes to be rich and sweet — I partake in helping two of “Porkapoluza,” and decide that I would undoubtedly always choose the crispy salty goodness of a bowl of chichirones over that of a bag of chips given the choice. Luckily, the possibility of that being an option is unlikely, otherwise this little piggy would be on the fast track to gluttony. I’ll just have to stick to the pork itself, available at White House Meats butcher shop in St. Lawrence Market.
By the time it was 5 p.m., Chef and I were slipping into a coma from all the food and wine. Back at the hotel, I was eager to sink into the soaker tub and Chef was anxious about missing the chance to nap in our room’s pillowy king size bed before we both venture back out for a late dinner. But before we made it up to the room, my expanding belly demanded I take the last of the scrumptious brownies left out for guests by the chef in the ballroom. Beside the plate, a hanging chalkboard announced a breakfast of pancakes and apricot chutney to look forward to in the morning. After dinner that night, my thoughts go straight to those pancakes — it would seem that when in Stratford, surrounded by the culinarily gifted, you can’t help but let food take over your brain.
(Image: Terry Manzo)
Toronto-based writer Jennifer Lee is the editorial director of FILLER magazine, an online fashion and culture journal. She is also the co-editor of Hardly magazine, an arts-centric online teen publication for Canadian girls.