Order envy (noun): A situation in which a diner realizes that his or her meal selection is inferior to that of a fellow diner. Order envy is often marked by feelings of ineptitude, frustration and even persecution.
Example: When Jane’s sable fish dish arrived, Chris was struck by a particularly vehement case of order envy, or looking down at the insipid chop of overcooked pork on his plate, Chris felt a sense of order envy and wondered why he always managed to pick the wrong menu item. Did the universe hate him?
We all know someone like this, I suspect. Someone who reads the words on a menu and conjures an image in his head that invariably fails to materialize on the actual plate presented.
I have thrown myself under the bus in the definition above, but in reality, I have an almost preternatural ability to hone in on a restaurant’s best dish, the one that represents the kitchen’s most ingenious, tightly focused effort and leaves the rest of the diners at the table making feeble attempts to boost their enthusiasm for their own meals.
Such was the case, I’m afraid, on my recent visit to The Portly Chef, a charmingly down-to-earth and friendly spot in Central Lonsdale. I was accompanied by my ill-fated dining partner, Gil.
Now, before I continue, let’s establish a few key facts. First, The Portly Chef’s menu exhibits flashes of true culinary brilliance. Chef Jeff Batt clearly has a handle on the compatibility of flavours and textures that you don’t see every day. A main of miso-marinated sablefish in which the “starch” element was a trio of housemade Har Gow (steamed shrimp dumplings that will be familiar to dim sum fans) reveals the kind of mad genius that inspires legend.
Next, service at The Portly Chef is welcoming, knowledgeable and humble. From our server (who was run ragged following a colleague falling sick and going home on a busy evening) to the members of the kitchen team that stepped in to run food to our table and clear plates where required, Portly Chef’s staff made us feel like our patronage was important to them.
Third, and perhaps most salient to this experience, The Portly Chef enjoys (and, it has to be said, in this case, suffers from) status as a beloved room on the North Shore. Legions of loyal diners swear by this place, extolling its virtues at every turn; I could not delay a visit here any longer lest the throngs of readers who have recommended it to me revolted against this column.
I say that the restaurant also suffers from this reputation because such consistent praise sets a certain expectation for the diner that can result in a more critical light being cast on the dining experience should the odd element of service go awry.
Alright, with these facts established, let’s get on to the meal.
Gil started with an appetizer of Lamb Popsicles, two breaded, deep-fried chops of lamb served on the bone with a salad of mixed greens and heirloom tomatoes. I chose a starter of Smoked Pork Belly topped with jumbo Atlantic scallops in brown butter.
Tucking in to his chops, Gil discovered them to be cooked to at least medium-well, if not well done. While some people like their lamb this way, it is a well-established convention that lamb chops, especially such lovely, meaty ones as these, ideally ought to be served medium rare, preserving the succulent flavour and moisture inherent to the cut, and only cooked beyond that at the explicit request of the diner. At $17 for the dish, the overdone lamb was tough to swallow.
By stark contrast, my scallops and morsels of beautifully caramelized pork belly were exceptionally enjoyable. The plump scallops were seared to perfection and married magically with the deep, rich flavour of the salty, faintly sweet pork.
A shared appetizer of mushroom caps stuffed with escargots, served drenched in mustard chive butter, baked in gruyere and potato custard and topped with a crispy stack of hickory stick potatoes, was a decadent treat, rich beyond imagination with its comingling of creamy dairy elements and earthy flavours.
For his main, Gil chose Duck Devine, four large medallions of Brohm Lake duck in a demi-glaze of Okanagan goat’s cheese with cranberries.
For my main, I chose the aforementioned sablefish with har gow, served with pickled ginger, ponzu aioli and a sheet of nori. The flavours on the duck plate were great; the demi was deep and hearty but nuanced with its tart cranberry notes and the actual meat was proficiently seasoned.
Regrettably, Gil was crestfallen to discover that unlike the wonderfully cooked, tender sable fish on my plate, his duck, a fowl the proper temperature of which is imperative to its enjoyment, was once again significantly overcooked and lacking in requisite moisture. With our meal we enjoyed a bottle of Pirramimma Petit Verdot, a bold and firm McLaren Vale red.
Our bill, for two appetizers (the lamb was graciously removed from the tab), two mains and a bottle of wine, was $157 before gratuity.
The Portly Chef is located at 1211 Lonsdale Avenue. theportlychef.com 604-971-4377
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. Contact: [email protected].
