I follow the careers of certain chefs. Faithful readers of this column could easily make a list of my cooking heroes (Michael Stadtlander, Mark McEwan, Chris MacDonald, Jamie Kennedy and, yes, Chris Klugmann). Klugmann's status on the list has been iffy lately, not for lack of cooking prowess, but because he has permitted himself to be seduced away from the stoves by the siren song of money and power.
His most recent job was as executive chef at the Delta Chelsea Hotel, where he spent a year driving a desk and figuring out -- finally -- that he needs to be hands-on to be a happy chef. When Klugmann finally figured out that he preferred the kitchen to the executive suite, he left Delta, last September. We now find Klugmann hidden in the bowels of Rosedale doing a long-term consulting gig at Summerhill Market, takeout counter to the haute bourgeoisie. Summerhill has been cooking and selling takeaway comfort foods for eons.
They've hired Klugmann to reorganize the kitchen and update the takeout recipes.
Which puts him back behind the stoves, where he belongs. The Delta job was not Klugmann's first mistake: Before that, he was the exec at Rosewater Supper Club, where the egregious cooking was clearly little improved by his talents.
The changing taste of things at Bb33, the restaurant at the Delta Chelsea, is an interesting lesson in what happens when a very fine chef does the actual cooking and then pulls back. When Klugmann opened Bb33 as its chef in May, 2000, the cooking was dazzling. Three months later, they promoted Klugmann, and Margaret MacKay became Bb33 chef. But Klugmann as exec was still responsible for Bb33. He was still in there daily tasting and editing the food, which became inconsistent but still had many dazzling moments. Now that Klugmann is gone from Delta, the thrill is gone.
There is French Canadian-style onion soup. When we ask the waiter how that might be different from the regular French onion soup, he doesn't know, and doesn't offer to find out. The starters are the highest notes this kitchen hits. We ask the waiter what Victor Berthold Quebec cheese (with the venison carpaccio) is. He says he thinks it's white. End of reply. It turns out to be a classic smelly monk's cheese, good with the sweet meatiness of venison carpaccio, although the accompanying tangerine oil 'n' segments is too weird a combo. We like the smokiness of cured black cod, though its garnish is also confusing: Why such a big dollop of unadorned butterfat (a.k.a. crème fraîche), and the potato rosti is soggy. As for mussels with roasted red peppers, chardonnay and pimenton, they are a) slightly overcooked b) too boozy from the wine and c) nicely smokey thanks to the pimenton (Spanish paprika, stronger than Hungarian paprika, and much used in the Middle East).
Mains range from the blah to the really bad. Blah is salmon crusted with too much seedy mustard and surrounded by a pool of too-strong red-pepper sauce. Blah is slightly overcooked Arctic char. Blah is pleasant grilled boneless chicken served with the high point of that meal -- fresh sweet frites. Bad is deer osso buco that is so overcooked and dried out that it resists fork, knife and teeth.
At lunch time, they do a really good marinated pork chop. Gourmet Magazine recently recommended brining pork chops before cooking, and this one is honey succulent. But it's all downhill from there: Shrimp and tomato risotto is dry hard grains of rice with no discernible sauce. Bouillabaisse is bland liquid, no rouille, no pizzazz.
It's time for Delta Chelsea to throw in the towel and run an ordinary hotel restaurant. When Klugmann was cooking, Bb33, thanks in part to its independent streetfront signage and access, had the potential to compete with independent restaurants of quality. That's over now.
Bb33. 33 Gerrard St. W. 416-585-4319. $125 for dinner for two with wine, tax and tip. Accessible to people in wheelchairs. Stirring the Pot: The restaurant industry is angry with the City of Toronto because of those cute window signs that must be posted in restaurant windows indicating whether the restaurant has passed its most recent health inspection. In its court fight, the restaurant industry lobby challenges the legality of the public scheme, and argues that it doesn't go far enough to protect public safety.
How disingenuous! The truth is that requiring restaurants to post their health inspection status is the most powerful tool the city can use to enforce its restaurant health regulations. Do the restaurants have something to hide? If not, what is their problem?