Trevor
38 Wellington St. E | 416-941-9410 | trevorkitchenandbar.com
Descending the stairs into Trevor is to enter the subterranean world of a 150-year-old basement-turned-restaurant. The space feels old and comfortable and interesting. It’s split into two sides; one is the bar, where you can order a cocktail or indulge in upscale bar snacks. A few couches are scattered around for those who prefer lounging to perching on bar stools.
On the other side is the main dining room, with the stone foundation exposed. Candles and wall sconces provide diffuse lighting and the low ceiling gives the place a feel best described as cozy (those over six feet in height may well describe it as claustrophobic).
Trevor should be kept in mind for drinks with co-workers (admittedly, a hard sell in the summer, since it not only lacks a patio — it’s in a basement). It’s off the done-to-death financial district core, has a good wine list and has some great after-work drinks specials. Since it’s practically across the street from the Sony Centre, it’s also a good choice for those catching a performance.
Our waiter is personable and excited about today’s special appetizer: a kind of Cinco de Mayo taco, he says. Braised beef cheeks. Tequila sour cream. We order that. He leaves, only to return seconds later. Turns out it’s not tacos, it’s more like dumplings. Or maybe pierogies. And it’s not really Mexican…but it does have cumin. Undaunted, we stick with it, whatever “it” might be. “It” turns out to be braised beef cheek dumplings with tequila sour cream. And it is fantastic. The beef cheeks are tender and packed with flavour; the cumin is an unusual but perfect complement that pairs beautifully with the tequila sour cream.
For the main, there’s a choice of beef tenderloin, buttermilk fried chicken, grilled pork chop, venison rib chop, lamb chops or seafood. In short, vegetarians will go away hungry (and probably angry). The menu does say the kitchen will accommodate vegetarians, but I’m hard pressed to see how and we don’t test it. I order the beef tenderloin with horseradish crust, fingerling potatoes and double smoked bacon ($35). The tenderloin is done to perfection and the potatoes are a surprise, with flavour that belies their lowly tuber pedigree.
My companion opts for the “tempura shrimp, lobster and black cod” ($39). Aficionados of
statutory interpretation will no doubt interpret the comma the same way we did: tempura shrimp, served alongside lobster and black cod. Wrong. It is actually tempura shrimp, tempura cod and tempura lobster, or, as our waiter cheerfully describes it, “a plate of fried stuff” (my companion and I heard him, but refused to believe that anyone but a Sizzler roadhouse would do that to a lobster). The dish is a disappointment, and while tasty (at least, while it was still hot) does nothing to showcase the flavour of the seafood. My dining companion, an ex-pat American with arteries trained for this kind of challenge, is only able to eat half. Serving it with aioli suggests to me the kitchen must have a kickback arrangement with a cardiologist.
The sides continue the theme – there are four to choose from, but three are fried (sea salted frites, truffled goat cheese poutine and tempura asparagus). The final one is bacon and onion mashed potatoes, which means three of the four are also a version of potato. The sides menu cries out (sobs, in fact) for something fresh and green.
For dessert, I choose a chocolate and peanut butter fondant with warm chocolate mousse and chocolate “textures” ($10). The textures turn out to be chocolate-covered crunchy bits (oats? granola?) and are quite good, as is the fondant. My dining companion has the almond milk bavarois with blueberry preserve and shortbread ($9). It’s good, but overcome by the tempura course, she is unable to finish it.
The menu is unbalanced, but to be fair, it is an awkward time of year for chefs – people are tired of comfort food, yet the spring vegetables aren’t quite ready. Still, the menu needs a makeover ASAP. The service was personable but lacked detail, and we missed out on bread and a nearby table missed an appetizer. Still, the bill comes with a bouffant of garish pink candy floss so I’m prepared to overlook the lack of bread.
Judge Foodie’s verdict:
Highs: A cozy atmosphere and a candy floss finish
Lows: Low ceilings; no vegetarian options listed; menu unbalanced and heavy
Kirsten Thompson is a Toronto-based research lawyer and commercial litigator. Since her call to the bar in 2000, she estimates that her restaurant to courtroom ratio has been approximately 14:1.