Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar
9 Church Street
416-362-1957
Brunch for two with cocktails, tax and tip: $65

At the Slow Food Green Link conference back in February at the Hart House, I had the opportunity to hear Tobey Nemeth, long-time sous-chef at Jamie Kennedy Kitchens, speak passionately about her views on the importance of seasonal and local products and it hit me: this is what Canadian cuisine is all about. I wondered if this vision, one that some still consider a passing fad, would translate seamlessly to a meal normally relegated to one of convenience.

On my latest visit to the Wine Bar for brunch, Tobey Nemeth is cheerily chatting up my two dining companions and me at the bar that winds around the small open kitchen. “It’s only our eighth week serving brunch so I’m very protective of the menu. It’s all just really good,” she gushes.

With that, we choose 6 dishes (choice of 2 dishes for $20) and a round of black currant sparkling cocktails ($8). I was dining with two friends, the most discriminating and seasoned industry types I know, and I was grateful for the jolt of clarity and honesty that generally accompanies a meal shared with cooks.

There is, however, no lack of clarity or technique in this kitchen. A perfectly runny egg yolk gushes out over velvety polenta and spicy chorizo, bathing it in bright yellow and a creaminess that adds depth to the tomato ragout. Eggs make another appearance in a duck confit hash with schmalz egg. A quick search uncovers that the nutritional value of schmalz or schmaltz - rendered chicken or goose fat used for frying - contains 450 calories and 50 g of fat per 5 Tbsps. To paraphrase a friends, I should have taken the heel-toe express instead of that damned cab.

Smoked Berkshire pork sausage with corn maque choux sends me to the dictionary once again, where I read that maque choux (pronounced “mock shoe”) is a traditional dish from southern Louisiana; simply, a variety of corn, bell pepper, tomato and onion cooked in a fat. Here, a variation of it supports the focal ingredient, a juicy pork sausage. The three of us are silent a moment, embracing the honest marriage of home-grown cooking and the humble pig.

Honesty is the mantra, with dishes like potato rösti with smoked pickerel. It is a dish that I will eventually attempt to recreate at home, but will ultimately fail to achieve the restaurant’s lightness and subtlety of flavours. Dill, slivers of red onion, creamy yoghurt and hints of smoke make up a delicate and refreshing dish. I return another Sunday to discover wild smoked salmon in its place and I find myself yearning for the appearance of this underrated fish.

Cinnamon-raisin pain perdu with rhubarb compote is a welcome addition to the collection of savoury dishes, proving indispensable favourites can have their place on the menu and still be served with class and aplomb. A dense slice with pure maple syrup and tart rhubarb compote conjures up a memory of my grandmother’s voice gently chiding me to cross my legs at the ankle, as any lady would do. It is quiet and concealed elegance personified.

To finish, we order the artisanal cheese plate ($15), which comes with five cheeses accompanied by crackers made from wild rice flour and local maple syrup, a brilliant combination with the Ciel de Charlevoix, a raw cow’s milk blue, but no match for the pungent Bouq’ Émissaire (literally, “scapegoat”), a raw goat’s milk, both from Québec. The latter sends us reaching for our cocktails, whose syrup is cleverly extracted from the restaurant’s abundance of preserves. We mouth to each other, wondering whether or not the stinky cheese smell would follow us all day long. All told, it is just the excuse we need to order a bottle of Calderona Cigales Rosé and a perfect way to usher in a terrific Sunday afternoon.

Such an example of unbridled bounty lends a sheen of respectability to our country’s cuisine. So, let us applaud Jamie Kennedy and his team of talented and dedicated staff, who are bringing our local producers into the light, showcasing the offerings of a humble bunch of farmers, and injecting national pride into the way we eat.