Posted by Laura Sutula in restaurant review, vegetarian on March 14, 2007 at 7:09 am

Graceful Vegetarian Restaurant
4396 Steeles Avenue, East Unit E8
905-479-8381
lunch for two, including tax and tip: $40

In my years as a vegetarian and vegan, fake meats were never a huge part of my diet. Tofu dogs and veggie burgers were usually the extent of my meat analogues. I had been a picky kid anyway, turning up my nose (or rather, making “Gross!” faces) at fish, seafood, anything outside my normal diet. So when I entered Graceful Vegetarian Restaurant up at the northern end of the Pacific Mall-Market Village plaza, I quickly realized I was out of my depth and beyond my range of experience. My first thought had been vague amusement at the implication that other vegetarian restaurants were somehow clumsy. My internal focus was quickly overwhelmed by the bright colours of the Chinese New Year decorations. Two streamer-dragons started at opposite ends of the room and met each other with fierce, cheerful faces almost directly over our table. The incandescent bulbs placed at regular intervals on a high ceiling reminded me of large lecture halls, except not as, you know, dreadful.

Before we even had a chance to sit down, there was a crowding of plates, a clustering of place settings, and a flurry of teapots in front of us. Green tea was promptly poured and soon consumed as we glanced over the dim sum chit-style menu. And really, a glance was all that was needed to realize that this was not going to be my standard “stir-fried veggies” fare. After some squinting and cheek-chewing of indecision, I took a deep breath, and discarded my picky childhood in a rapid succession of check marks. Non-shrimp, not-goose, tofu-kidney - bring on them all!

My enthusiasm transformed into determination as the dishes arrived. We set up a sort of mini-buffet amongst the five of us, sampling and commenting as we went. I hadn't eaten all morning, so I had thought I was decently hungry for a 12:00pm lunch. Fried dumplings as a first course proved me wrong. My constitution, no matter how prepared, had not been ready for the taste of fried oil that permeated the meal. Which is not to say that the food was bad; I merely had forgotten that “Chinese” is English for “fried.” My chopsticks and I soldiered on to shrimp balls, whose neutral flavour I was told was standard for shrimp. Actually, I had the taste of shrimp described to me as “flavourless but metallic”, and I once again thanked nobody-in-particular for my voluntary dietary restrictions. In any case, the texture was pleasing and next up was a considerable hurdle - fried goose.

Even knowing it was nothing but flavoured and textured tofu, my mind kept calling up images of the semi-tame Canada geese that inhabited my rural Pennsylvanian backyard. Having fed goslings by hand at a younger age, I paused to simply look at the pale yellow chunk. My self-awareness of my strange sentimentality spurred me onwards to tasting. The texture was vaguely chewy, and the flavor was light, and almost sweet. It was filling in a way that the dumplings had not been, substantial in its own right.

All around me, more dishes were waiting to be sampled. The bean curd sheet rolls reminded me of collapsed spring rolls, mild and slightly crunchy. The fried taro cake was more like a dumpling or pudding, sticky inside the mouth and with the tiny carrot cubes embedded like bits in a fruitcake. The turnip cake was much more palatable, with a slight aftertaste of capsaicin. It nearly burst in my mouth even as it was bitten, dissolving into the back crevices, the molars and the roof and the inner cheeks. The flavour lingered in the pockets of my cheeks as if I were a chipmunk storing up for winter. The “kidney” was slippery both on my chopsticks and in my mouth. Substantially chewier than the goose, the darker flavour left a strong aftertaste that was distinctive yet difficult to pinpoint.

My favourite by far was the curry pancake. Whether or not it was intended as a dessert, that is how it registered amongst us. The picky part of me reveled in the more familiar “pastry” makeup - fluffy yet crumbly, with small bits flaking off from the destructive force of a bite. A flavourful curry sauce came with the pancake, but it was easily enjoyed with or without this addition.

While I am not yet a connoisseur of meat analogues, I felt this was my first step on the road to the appreciation of imitation. Even if you are not so inclined, Graceful Vegetarian makes interesting and varied Chinese dishes in its own right. With a new, “even more inaccessible” location opening up in Richmond Hill, Graceful Vegetarian makes for a memorable meal.