Shoppers peruse the goods in chef Mark McEwan’s new high-end grocery store and deli in Don Mills.
McEwan 38 Karl Fraser Rd., The Shops at Don Mills, Toronto 416-444-6262 www.mcewanfoods.com
No one can accuse Mark McEwan of not knowing his audience. They are the people you see congregating at his restaurants: North 44, Bymark, One. The women are often professionally blow-dried and subtly enhanced; the men sport Ferragamo loafers and perfectly tailored suits. Their bright, sunny homes with ample gardens are fixtures on his TV show, The Heat , which features him catering their weddings and fundraisers. They appreciate the value of valet parking, aged prime steak and flattering lighting. Hell, add a few zeroes to my bank account and I'm one of them.
These are also the people for whom the famous chef/entrepreneur has opened his new 20,000-square-foot gourmet grocery store and "restaurant meal replacement" counter, simply named McEwan, at the Shops at Don Mills. For all of the Shops' majestic rhetoric - "Ontario's first and finest outdoor lifestyle centre" - it is really just a mall and not exactly a Gucci and Prada sort of mall either. (Think Aldo and Tabi instead.) Nonetheless, it is deep in the heart of white-collar Toronto and McEwan is its flagship grocer.
Grabbing one of the chic, black, two-tiered shopping carts, let us observe Dianthus McEwana in her native habitat. See how the wide aisles and polished concrete floors enable her to manoeuvre effortlessly, her white linen fluttering in the breeze of the air conditioner. Gentle Euro-techno music - the kind you might hear at any boutique hotel the world over - flatters her sense of sophistication.
At the rack featuring $500 Il Privilegio balsamic vinegar, she must pause, as if at a shrine, and pay homage. (Buying it would be too showy in this economy, but it's comforting to know it's there). She approves, though, of the imported orange tomatoes from Holland, the blue foot mushrooms from B.C. supplier Ponderosa and the baguettes by Quebec-based Boulart. She stands in awe of the great wall of yogurt that spans half a brightly lit display case.
Let's leave our subject at the fromage counter, where she can innocently flirt with the charming cheesemonger, and turn our attention to the "restaurant meal replacement" counter. This, after all, is the main reason for our visit. No ordinary grocery store deli, this shop-within-a-shop claims to offer the same quality food you would find at a McEwan restaurant in convenient take-home form. With the economy the way it is and people looking much more to the comforts of home, it would seem to be perfectly timed.
Behind these spotless glass vitrines, you won't find any of the sadly aging roast chickens and liquid potato salads that constitute typical grocery-store prepared foods. Instead, we see caviar and truffles, grilled quail, veal shank and mushroom pie, plump grilled shrimp, orange braised fennel, chicken fingers.
Chicken fingers? Surely that's a mistake, but no sooner does the strangeness of their presence register than a voice inquires, "Do you have any chicken fingers?" Seconds later, another request is placed and now there's a run on chicken fingers.
Let's see for ourselves what makes these childhood favourites so appealing. The Japanese panko coating gives them a light, golden crust and the meat inside is tender and flavourful, but, when all is said and done, they are still just chicken fingers. Perhaps chef McEwan knows something we don't. Can we expect to see tater tots and Shirley Temples next?
Moving on to more grown-up fare, let's consider the salads. Du Puy lentils with bacon, cranberries and blue cheese are definitely for the adults.
Carefully cooked lentils retain their shape nicely and remain just al dente, but the seasoning is so light that none of the other ingredients really stand out and the dish falls flat.
Roxy's potato salad (named for the chef's wife, who supplied the recipe) is a better bet with its pronounced celery flavour, herbaceous seasoning and adorable little red and white new potatoes that pop in the mouth. Fregola - a sort of Sardinian couscous - is paired with chickpeas in a Mediterranean-inspired salad and the result is texturally intriguing, but the flavour is dull. A similar fate befalls the beet and walnut salad, which also suffers from beets so overcooked they are beginning to fall in on themselves.
Entrees, while not flawless, fare better. Particularly impressive is the veal meat loaf; it doesn't look like much - it's sort of a brown slab - but there is a satisfying density to the meat and bold, unexpected flavouring from sweet spices like nutmeg and allspice. Less successful are the enormous butterflied shrimp and the spatchcocked Cornish hen, both of which have been painted with a sweet, unimaginative barbecue sauce.
A completely elegant bacon and cheddar cheese quiche, though, is light and beautifully executed, with the sharp cheese and smoky bacon flavours being lifted throughout by the airiness of the eggs. I expect this one will be passed off as homemade at a lot of garden parties this year.
The presence of a sushi chef slicing fresh fish and assembling rolls has become a pretty common sight at grocery stores these days, but the chefs here are from Edo, a 20-year-old Toronto sushi institution. Even so, the rolls don't have the freshness you would find at the restaurant and are only marginally better than those you might find at any other grocery store offering clamshell sushi.
Ultimately, the food touted as "restaurant replacement" was a bit of a disappointment and, if we believe it, doesn't speak well of the food served at the restaurant these meals are replacing. A more accurate slogan might be "above-average grocery-store meals." It seems to me that the real culinary intrigue at McEwan is to be found at the glistening fish counter or slowly aging on hooks in a window behind the butcher, in the produce section and on the cheese counter.
On our way out, beside the flawless display of Voss water and the $400 yucca plants (for those impulse yucca buys), we see our shopper once again. She has loaded up on cheese and charcuterie, sushi, soups and shrimp. "Is this your first time here," I ask? "Yes," she says, smiling, "but I'll be coming back." Chef McEwan definitely knows his market.