Globe Life
September 14 2009

If only all of life was like the splendid new Splendido

Splendido Rating 3

Joanne Kates The Globe and Mail/Life

$200 for dinner for two with wine, tax and tip

We got a new chef at the summer camp I oversee and things were different. Instead of coming off a summer of mushy mac 'n' cheese and overcooked chicken, I am squeezing into my jeans thanks to Chef Max's ridiculously good cooking. For special occasions, he made sushi, blinis from scratch topped with smoked salmon, homemade chocolate truffles. But even his ordinary stuff was sublime, the chicken never overcooked, the pizza topped with bouquets of fresh veg, the souvlaki zinged with garlicky tzatziki. Hence my return to “civilization” not parched for “real food,” but sated.

Which makes Splendido's task harder. It's never simple to downscale an important restaurant, which is what Splendido, under new management, has attempted. The previous owners, Yannick Bigourdan and David Lee, sold the place to its chef (Victor Barry) and manager (Carlo Catallo) in July in order to focus on their hit Queen Street West eatery Nota Bene. The new owners sensibly chose to simplify matters and copy former house chef Lee's shift toward simpler cooking and (slightly) friendlier prices.

They closed Splendido for a reno and reopened a month ago. Only the huge bevelled mirrors and purse stands remain. The previously open kitchen is now hidden behind a tall wall of open shelving holding a regiment of vibrant preserves – beans both yellow and green, beets in a riot of colours, white asparagus, tangerines in caramelized sugar, drunken cherries and peaches – in rows of Mason jars. Think red, orange and yellow orbs, white, green and pale yellow oblongs. This is food as design statement, and also a visual enunciation of Splendido's mission: to showcase and celebrate the local and seasonal.

Where the previous Splendido would have built a complex composition of foie gras, Splendido '09 serves the simplest foie gras parfait – like velvet, like silk, like long love, the texture too smooth to articulate. Partnered simply by feather-light toasted brioche and a little pot of drunken cherries, this is simple food for complicated people.

The pappardelle, meanwhile, are house-made pasta of impeccable texture with delicate white rabbit and baby artichokes so tender they're cradle-robbed, while smoked Yorkshire pork belly riffs on its alter ego at Nota Bene. Only a disciple of David Lee could morph blood sausage into mousse like a cloud. Its apple mustarda is tangy; its pickled cauliflower, perfectly judged, is barely piquant. But the smoked pork belly is mostly fat with little meat. One wants a reversal of ratio.

The corn risotto – a heavenly homage to harvest season – is ultrasweet corn jumped up with the savoury bite of guanciale (cured pig cheek) and fresh chanterelles (the meaty mushrooms). To offer a $17 risotto appetizer of impeccable texture – al dente rice in creamy corn-sweet sauce – is the silver lining in the recession.

Pickerel fillet has been gilded in the sauté pan and is served with small, sweet chunks of heirloom tomato, red peppers and Kalamata olives and what the waiter calls “the centrepiece of the dish,” baby artichokes braised in lemon. That a waiter should call such attention to the non-protein part of a dish speaks volumes about the new Splendido.

First, the waitstaff: These servers are passionate professionals. Any resemblance between them and sullen out-of-work actors is purely visual. It's deliciously obvious from every educated word they speak that Catallo is training his staff with iron fist in velvet glove. They care, they know, they charm.

Second, the cooking: Chef Barry, while not a grand artiste like David Lee, adores his ingredients and makes love to them expertly. Chef's butter-poached lobster recalls my other favourite lobster rendition, at Pastis. Few chefs understand that poaching a lobster in butter (rather than roasting, broiling or steaming it) brings out the crustacean's innate sweetness while keeping it juicy and tender. This critter has been babysat so carefully that its flesh is limpid, yet has bite. Its accompaniment of fava bean and mascarpone risotto has received slightly less care; the rice is undercooked.

But the new Splendido also differentiates significantly from its previous incarnation. Frites come with malt vinegar mayo, reflecting root food gone glam. They've also added a wood-burning grill for a casual touch. Grilled veal for two includes chop, sweetbreads and tongue confit. Aficionados of summer BBQ will be sanguine about the charring of the meat, but I find aggressive charring such as this to be de trop. Using high heat to blacken a thick outer layer of meat to a crisp reduces the dignity of a superb cut of meat. I find such intense charring sophomoric and would prefer the delicacy of light charring (kissing cousin to searing) with blood red lurking just beneath. Both sweetbreads and tongue confit have been spared this fate, and are better for it.

More delicacy comes in the form of ethereal lemon-scented gnocchi, little down pillows accented with fresh fava beans. And lemony beurre blanc – oh joy.

After mains, the waiter offers a carefully composed cheese tray: a blue, a Brie, a cheddar, a goat, a sheep – all of special provenance. Sweets continue the theme of simple but grown-up: A small Mason jar holds panna cotta topped with local peach compote. Lemon meringue is deconstructed pie, a small pond of lemon curd topped with meringue swirls, a pastry disc and a small swirl of yogurt that has been hung in cheesecloth to delete its water and intensify the sharpness. Chocolate is two custards – deep dark chocolate and ho-hum coffee, with a side of underpowered brown-butter ice cream. Coffee dessert is espresso poured over three scoops of vanilla ice cream in a tall parfait glass rimmed with sugar crystals.

“First you spoon,” the waiter says, “then you sip and then it becomes a milkshake.” If only all of life were like that.