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| - For seasons past I've been overlooking Peridot as a dinner party venue, mostly because the photos on their website are hideous. But finally the day came around where a social function called for my attendance. It would be bad politics if I didn't end up going, and so normally I purchased four tickets. A hundred dollars of my money contributing the victims of a particular disaster. But I like to think of it as--an evening with three chicks.
I neglected to review this place because I've only been here once up until a few days ago, and up until a few days ago I've had no food.
Now that I have experienced Peridot in its full glory..may the hounds of my culinary snobbery be set free.
WHAT A PATHETIC MENU! It's as if the Mediterranean has all but exhausted their resources for over a century, and the chefs were devising the menu out of an encyclopaedia with most of it's pages missing. There is.....no food here. This sums up everything you need to know about dining at Peridot. Perhaps they've utilized so much of the real estate that they've forgot to build a kitchen.
The service between a bar and a restaurant are not things safely matched, and I don't think anyone's told the owners here. The only place the said combination where such concoction has found any success that I know of in Toronto is One Eleven, Yorkville. Peridot emphasizes Yorkville in it's advertisements again and again in propaganda vehicles such as Toronto Life magazine. But the location makes it seem more like it's Yorkville's younger and retarded cousin in the time-out corner.
From the outside, this restaurant is beautiful. It looks as if it can stand next to any other restaurant on Cumberland, and the stretched marble stairs ascending to the entrance suggests delusions of grandeur. But upon entering, you realize that it is nothing but just delusions. The interior is like a Malibu mansion that would house the likes of Kid Rock, or Akon (if he were a bit poorer). I'd live here, but I wouldn't eat here.
The furniture doesn't match, and it's not eclectic. It really is like a candyhouse for adults, where from the outside it's all alluring, but once inside we find out that it's just something of a sinister pretentiousness.
The art on the walls seemed to be acquired from the sets of an ironic film about modern day bourgeois lifestyles of the 'new money'.
I ordered my 'usual' drink here which came out to be $22 a glass. I'm not drinking 50 years old scotch or anything. $22! It makes the $15 price at ONE restaurant seem reasonable. Including tips, that would be $100 for four drinks. ARE THE ICE CUBES CARVED FROM GLACIERS?!?!
I spent $300+ here during the fundraiser just on drinks. Somebody better offer me some unprotected sex before I call my 'boys' over here for such theft!
There's a balcony bar here, looking at the most mundane view of all Bloor Street East.
My instincts told me not to come here, I'll be treating my instincts with much greater trust and respect from now on.
Peridot is my birthstone, I had this unending argument with my friend on the pronunciation of Peridot. She keeps pronouncing it 'peridoe'. Somebody correct her!
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