Wheat Sheaf Tavern
665 King Street West
416-504-9912
Dinner for two with all taxes, tip and beer: $50

I’ve got a soft spot for pubs. Living and travelling in Asia for five years, I chased them like a mirage in the desert. This may seem strange to some, but after being repeatedly assaulted by lost in translation western food like sweet mayonnaise taking precedence over cheese on pizza, or sugary pork patties in cheeseburgers, finding decent pub grub holds more meaning. In many cases, sports bars, likely opened by homesick Ex-pats, usually provided that ilk. Now back in Toronto, I still appreciate pubs as reassuring beacons of comfort. So, when someone tells me the wings at the Wheat Sheaf, which are half priced from Sunday to Tuesday evenings, are some of the best in town, I’m so there.

Something about Buffalo wings often cause a hankering - the satisfying sauce of tang and bite. That, and I like eating the fat. Yes, I admit it - gristle on steak, the thick rind of braised pork hocks, the glisten under roast duck skin - if I see it being pushed aside on my partner’s plate across from me, there’s a good chance I’ll ask for it. I don’t think I’m alone. My theory as to why chicken wings are so popular is because they’re an excuse for people to eat the skin and fat.

A double order of medium wings (20 for $15.95) seemed enough as a snack for three. Dunking a hot nub dripping with barbecue sauce into typical bottled blue cheese dressing, was the only thing that offset the icky sweetness. Its neon red is akin to the stuff at the mall that gets served with Chinese chicken balls. It’s neither vinegary enough nor spicy. The skin was fried crispy but was also a little leathery. Despite the flesh tasting fresh and juicy, it was easy to stop after two pieces.

The poutine ($5.95) was also a let down. The fries were acceptable; thick cut steak fries, basic frozen McCain’s, but completely drowned and soggy when served. The nature of any poutine requires quick action, but when the basket came to the table, only one or two fries could peek out from under the sludge of processed cheese and gravy.

The wee veggie burger ($7.95) was ordered by the one herbivore at the table. “A tasteless patty topped with a cheap bun,” was his assessment, “Thank God for condiments.”

It’s a shame because pub food can be much better. As I crave good ‘ol grease more often than I should, I’ve been to plenty of other places that serve better food - fresh cut fries not uncommon - and bigger portions, at reasonable prices.

Although the Wheat Sheaf also has history to it - Est. 1849 - with its typical sports bar setup and giant screen TV, it’s hard to imagine the ghosts of soldiers coming in from Fort York for a pint in this setting. Despite the forgettable food, as a place for a pint ($4.53 domestic) and the night’s games scores, it will do.