Deep-fried Egg Tofu with garlic, chili and peppersFred Lum/The Globe and Mail
It's no longer fun to be a gourmandizing sinophile in Toronto. Giving up Chinese food for the likes of pho and pad Thai has been expedient, but a defeat. But I have grown weary of standing in line at Spadina Avenue's Lee Garden, and indeed some of their offerings are feeling old. Up the street a bit, New Sky is the new Lee Garden – home to long lineups at prime time. There continues to be great Chinese in Markham, but driving there at dinnertime allows one to experience that great winding parking lot called the DVP.
So does it surprise you that I am over the moon to have made the acquaintance of Taste of China on Spadina just north of Dundas? The first time, I thought it might be just a crush, a passing fancy. Maybe they had a good night. We wandered in there by happenstance in June and found heaven in a pound of live B.C. spot prawns briefly boiled. Their flesh was so sweet it made a mockery of the farmed Thai shrimp that dominate the market.
But come fall, the live-shrimp season has ended. So why Taste of China? Sit near the front and the young woman who works that station is the first reason. She, my new queen of the taste buds, will take charge of your dinner. Don't even look at the menu. She is our new seafood dominatrix, we just say the word "seafood" and she tells us what to eat.
One evening she counsels fresh small clams in soup with Chinese radish – not exactly something I would have known to order. Perfectly cooked clams sit on a pile of thin rice vermicelli with green onion and golden sautéed garlic cloves, in light 'n' lovely garlic-infused clam broth topped with delicate shaved white Chinese radish. She also brings egg tofu deep-fried in salt and chili. This delicacy blows Lee Garden's salt and chili shrimp out of the water. Egg tofu is just what it says – tofu made with beaten egg, which gives it handsome flavour. The winsome tofu is deep-fried in the thinnest of cloaks with salt and chili, for crunch and silk.
We are starting to believe this relationship is for real. Another time our newly beloved dominatrix suggests freshwater eel with black-bean sauce, and Vancouver crab with garlic and green onion. Squeamish about eel? Don't want to fight with crab shell? Go eat spring rolls. Here at Taste of China, the eel is tender but not mushy or gross, its sauce perfectly balanced. The huge crab is worth the labour, slathered with crisps of deep-fried garlic and green onion, atop ground pork fried with coriander and white pepper to bring out the crab's sweetness. She has also offered fresh razor clams in garlic. These long thin cylinders are less tender than their conventional clam cousins but impeccably fresh and beautifully sauced.
We go back for more. She is still there! Her commitment to us is growing. She apologizes for not having any live shrimp, and offers to phone us when she can get some. She then approves our request for hot-and-sour soup. It is, after so many renditions that are all chili and no fun, a delirious shock: Tangy from rice vinegar, delicately balancing the hot and the sour, crunchy from tiger lily and wood ear mushrooms. She advocates for noodles with XO sauce. Having failed for too long to question our fealty to Singapore noodles, these rice vermicelli are a big wakeup call. Minus the curry powder and turmeric of Singapore noodles, these are both more delicate and more tasty. We freelance that night and order beef with black-bean sauce, and sautéed young pea shoots. Both are merely pleasant.
Lessons learned?
Lesson one: Believe the subtext. Under the Taste of China sign it says "Hong Kong Seafood Restaurant." That's where their strength lies. Lesson two: On the very rare occasions when your waiter calls the shots, let her. In the old days of fancy French dining, rich people frequented formal restaurants where their favourite waiters learned their tastes and influenced their eating choices. That, along with dining formality, has gone the way of the typewriter. Nobody with common sense mourns the loss of formality and classicism that came along with the great food of yesteryear. But a great waitstaff who guides you towards the most exciting food on offer? She is worth her weight in fresh white truffles.