Saturday 13 September
In Stratford, the theatre controls all. Lunch and dinner are ruled by the curtain: lunch before 12 (for the 2:00 show, dinner at the unholy hour of 5:30 (for the 8:00). So after a grand slam B at our B&B— which we're tempted not to name, because we want to go back and they've got only two rooms, but how can you not recommend a place that's so nice, so anyway the name is River Walk, run by a very lovely woman and good cook named Sally—where was I?
. . . Oh, yes, we headed off to watch dragon boats race up and down the Avon and thence, since it had been nearly (i.e. less than) two hours since we had eaten last, to a petite lunch at The Sunroom, the name belied by the weather—but one could see how if the day were, then it would be too—which, despite the slightly off-putting décor (early diner) consisted of (I'm going for a record here) a fine light smoked mackerel appetizer and a perfectly done beef tenderloin salad with sun-dried tomatoes and a clever little caesar salad dressing for dipping the beef into (into which to dip the beef?), leaving just enough time to stroll leisurely through the drizzle to a slightly schizo R&J, followed almost immediately by dinner at Rundles, which is what I'm supposed to be talking about.
Rundles is the best restaurant in Stratford. Punkt!
The space is very open: light, clean lines. The service: efficient, kind, but unobtrusive. The food: perfectly prepared, and also concentrated and unfussy. So:
Our bouches were amused by a shot of beet and grapefruit juices. Holt tucked his napkin in tight.
A delicate terrine of baby leeks, just held together by being allow to cool in their juice (no gelatin), with a lightly truffled vinaigrette.
Little benriner-ed cucumber rolls filled with Dungeness crab and a spot of shrimp, cool as a . . . and with a dab of a orange and ginger sauce.
Small slices of Ontario lamb (think locally, eat everything in sight) sous vide (cooked in a vacuum-sealed pouch at a low temp.—how exactly you can get it to come out tender and exactly medium rare, as we had ordered it, is a mystery), accompanied by tiny cubelets of mushroom, and a half of a Portobello mushroom cup that had mysteriously been dyed green in the cooking process, with a sprinkling of goat cheese and purslane (or was it shee-poots?).
A wonderful "confit" of duck leg, which unlike the usual confit had a crisp skin while still falling off the bone. "Israeli" couscous (just a bit pushier than ordinary couscous), just a tad of roasted fall vedge (turnips and carrots) laced with slivers of olives, with a drizzle of a squash and cinnamon purée.
'Zerts: A perfect parfait (for the Dept. of Redundancy Dept.) of armagnac and caramelized walnut with an orange-pistachio sauce.
A "double lemon tart": so very tasty, though what made it "double" exactly we never did find out.
And an amazing wine find: Megalomaniac, Sonofabitch Pinot Noir 2004 from John Howard Cellars.
And then off to a schizo Taming of the Shrew.
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