I am struggling to understand chef Brad Moore. At Xacutti on College Street, his food was superb. Light, multicultural, flashing flavours and textures. Okay so it was from 2002 to 2007, but a chef doesn’t forget how to cook. It’s like riding a bicycle. He was, then, one of the most interesting chefs in town.
Fast forward to today. Old School, chef Moore’s new restaurant in the premises of the former Hudson Kitchen: It’s the old/new classic, the all-American diner, the 1950s soda fountain with egg creams and flapjacks, open 24/7. Paper napkins, graffiti, Motown and formica. The formula has legs because it harkens back to a kinder gentler age, before snotty maître d’s and $15 cocktails.
But the chef partnership of Ian Kapitan and Brad Moore means gastro-business too. Mr. Kapitan, a chef without a big pedigree, is the guy behind the smoker out back, turning out ribs and chicken. And Brad Moore, whose food we know and love, does the other things. He’s hitting a certain, shall we say, low note. Hangover salad with pulled pork, bacon and a deep-fried egg? Flapjacks? Fried chicken with butter? C’mon Brad, you know how to cook a vegetable. And fish. And meat that isn’t all about fat.
Is this because Toronto is gaga for meat (especially pork) fat and BBQ and these guys thought to capitalize on the trend? Or do they both have genuine personal love of fatty meat?
If the latter, then why isn’t the food better?
Hogtown is a pretty competitive place to be smokin’ ribs these days, and Old School’s aren’t within spitting distance of the top 10. They’re rather dry and not so meaty. The big smoker out back also handles chickens, to equally uninspiring effect. The smoked chicken is also dry and overcooked, with scant scent of smoke.
Equally disappointing is the road-crosser chicken, in Chef Moore’s bailiwick. In my world, fried chicken is one of the #1 ways to overspend on calories and trans fats. There is nothing quite so transcendental as the crunch and squirt of ultra-crisp breading and moist meat when you bite it. Not at Old School, where the breading was flaccid and the meat no longer moist. Serving it with a big scoop of vanilla butter is simply too much. Is one to put the butter on the no longer warm biscuit? It might have helped, since said biscuit could be flakier. Our good humour is not improved by the undercooked potatoes in the potato salad.
The fries are underwhelming. Not bad, not great. Serving them lukewarm doesn’t help. The best thing on the menu, the sine qua non of Old School, is the mac and cheese. It’s loaded with sharp cheddar, the sauce is velvety, the noodles nice. Mac and cheese is not exactly haute cuisine. Maybe this is a case of lowering the bar, just for fun. The question is, whose fun?
Old School, 800 Dundas St. W., 416-815-8790