Let’s get one thing straight first. My visit to the newly opened Cafe Boulud—the second restaurant in Toronto whose birth I was alerted to via a post in Eater, a food porn site I visit daily—was nothing like that of Amy Pataki from the Toronto Star. I did not feel “something is off with the Toronto iteration,” plus I witnessed the opposite of “distracted servers, unaccommodating reservationists and fumbling busboys.” I’m assuming she just wandered in on an off night, because everything I saw told me Cafe Boulud was staffed by an attentive team serving mind-blowing food.

Cafe Boulud was my final meal in Toronto before heading home from the World Fantasy Convention, and I drove in with Ellen Datlow, John Clute, and Elizabeth Hand. This was my fifth trip from Richmond Hill in search of foodie gold, which some con-goers thought a bit much since there were perfectly serviceable restaurants in Richmond Hill. But I was in search of more than just serviceable. I wanted to see what artists could do at the top of their game. And also, as with my trip to Momofuku Shoto the night before, I wanted to experience a restaurant at the moment of its birth, and since Daniel Boulud’s newest spot had only opened at the beginning of October, this was my chance to see the place while it was still shiny and new.

After making our way through the Four Seasons Hotel and checking our coats, we were led to our table in the brightly lit, modernistic dining room, which, surprisingly for such a high-end restaurant, happened to be under painting featuring The Avengers—which felt very strange, not only because such a thing was unexpected in that environment, but also because I’d actually once helped write an issue of that comic!

It turned out that this was no cheap knock-off mash-up, but the work of Mr. Brainwash, whose paintings filled the dining room. We were told they were all for sale, and if we were interested, one could be ours for from $55,000-$90,000. Not in my league, I’m afraid. (Hey, restaurants like Cafe Boulud are themselves only rarely in my league!) (more…)

Somehow, I’ve ever made it to Momofuku Noodle Bar in New York, so when I saw that a branch would be opening in Toronto while I’d be there for the World Fantasy Convention—which I only learned about because of my daily reading of the food porn site Eater—I knew I’d finally get inside a David Chang restaurant. But I decided that before heading to the Noodle Bar for lunch, I’d see whether I could get reservations for the evening tasting menu at Momofuku Shoto.

I was able to do so, which required diligence, though nothing like the obsessive/compulsive checking of the Internet that was required to get into Alinea and Next. To book seats at the U-shaped Shoto counter means logging on to the Momofuku site at exactly 10:00 a.m. 13 days before the date you’re seeking. So at 9:59 a.m. on Sunday, October 21st, I was hitting refresh, refresh, fresh until the site allowed me to book seats for Saturday, November 3rd.

Which was a relief, because I wanted to see Momofuku while it was all shiny and new, with excitement still in the air about a new adventure just begun.

My co-conspirators for the evening were Charlie Anders, Annalee Newitz, and Cecilia Tan (who also joined me for my orgy at The Black Hoof). We experienced an amazing meal, but what’s most alive in my memory isn’t just the food (which I expected), but a strange encounter in the Men’s room (which I did not). But I’ll get to the urinals conversation in a bit. First, the food. (more…)

I try to scoop up a group of friends at every convention I attend and go out for dim sum at least once. I know where I want to head when I’m in Maryland or Philadelphia or even Vancouver, but since I was going to be in Toronto—well, Richmond Hill—I put out the call. Who makes the best dim sum in town? The answer I received from both friends and strangers was Lai Wah Heen.

Some friends wanted to know why I was bothering to drive 30-40 minutes into the heart of Toronto when there were plenty of dim sum parlors right by our con hotel. Well, all that advice, for one, but also because of what one reviewer had to say over on Yelp: “If your idea of dim sum is $2 steamers and old ladies yelling from carts, then go back to Richmond Hill.” That slam on the entire neighborhood in which I was staying made me laugh.

Not that there’s anything wrong with dim sum at the basic level of comfort food. I do that all the time. But dim sum prepared by an internationally recognized chef, and incorporating such ingredients as lamb, emu, and foie gras? That’s not something you get a chance to eat every day. (Or, come to think of it, at all. At least, I’ve never seen any of that offered before.)

And so four of my friends—Sharon Kier Patry, Shelly Rae Clift, and Karen and Charlie Newton—piled into the car last Friday, and we bombed into town, dealing with Toronto’s marvelous midday, midweek traffic. But what we found when we got where we were going was worth it.

Everything on the menu was enticing, so we just kept checking off boxes on the order sheet until we feared we’d be unable to ingest all the promised wonders. I wasn’t disappointed in a single choice, but here are the ones that most amazed me. (more…)

When I began making plans for where to eat during my recent Toronto trip, the first restaurant on my must-hit list was The Black Hoof, famous for its offal. Who could pass up roasted bone marrow, foie & nutella, and spicy horse tartare?

As it turns out, lots of people.

I’d rented a car so I could more easily get from my hotel in Richmond Hill to downtown Toronto, which meant I’d have plenty of room when it came time to hoof to Hoof Thursday night. Cecilia Tan was in the moment she heard about the menu, but as for those other spots in the car? They turned out to be not so easily filled. Nearly every person I asked to join us gave me one of those “Are you out of your mind?” looks, and said things like, “Yeah, right” or “Suuuure … ”

Luckily, I bumped into first Mike Willmoth and then Jim Minz, both of whom proved to be as enthusiastic about offal as Cecilia and I were. (more…)

When it came time to figure out where I’d be eating while in Toronto for the World Fantasy Convention, I knew that in the midst of all the fine dining I had planned, one stop was going to have to be at the city’s best burger joint. (Finding a great burger has always been high on my list when traveling.) But which restaurant would that be? I tossed the question out on social media, and though there was intense disagreement—you’d have thought that I’d started a discussion on the presidential election—the consensus settled around The Burger’s Priest.

So last Thursday morning, for my first meal in Toronto, I bombed into town from Richmond Hill with so many co-conspirators we needed two cars. When we reached Burger’s Priest, I was surprised to find it was take-out only, with nowhere to sit, and soon realized that there were two locations—one which apparently seats around 20 over on Yonge Street, and the one we ended up at on Queen Street East. But as that wasn’t going to affect the taste of the burgers, I didn’t really care. Besides, all those parked cars filled with people chowing down on their burgers told me this was food worth eating whether it had to be done sitting, standing, or running in place.

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I took more photos at this year’s World Fantasy Convention than I have at other recent cons, perhaps because I’ve also been using Instagram more, inspiring me to send more contemporaneous pics out into the world. Whatever the reason, the pics (such as the one of me and Irene Gallo below) now exist, and that’s all that matters.

You can check out all of my WFC photos over at Flickr.

If nothing else … they should make you hungry.

I’m home from the World Fantasy Convention now—well, not completely home, as we’re on Day 8 of no Internet, and I’ll be spending lots of time in cybercafes until this is fixed—but before the week gets away from me, here are some pics to represent the final day of WFC. I hope to eventually get around to a full con report …

… someday.

Waiting for the banquet to begin with Nalo Hopkinson

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Were you in Toronto this afternoon to watch the World Fantasy Awards ceremony?

No?

Don’t worry. Someone has taken care of that for you …

(You’re welcome!)

And once again, I’ve been having too much fun at the World Fantasy Convention to have any time left over for a full write-up, so these five photos will have to stand in for the details, which I hope to share in a full report in the future.

Hanging with Andy Duncan and Brett Cox

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So you couldn’t make it to the World Fantasy Convention this year—or perhaps you could make it, but wasn’t able to figure out a way to be omnipresent—and are pissed? Don’t worry. There are at least three readings you didn’t have to be present to witness.

And here they are …

F. Brett Cox

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