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| - "Kenkou"? Sez you!
I'm sad that Joanne Kates has retired from her column at the Globe and Mail. Next to Rose Reisman, she's been a favourite sly target in my reviews.
She probably doesn't know that I exist.
I didn't even go to her summer camp as a kid, but her reviews informed my own approach to silly amateurish food writing.
At her best she was brilliantly descriptive.
At her worst, she relied too heavily on a few standard tropes: the presumptive superiority of French cuisine; the newbie's appreciation for Asian exoticism; the liberal douching of over-the-top sexual metaphors for food.
I have had some great meals. Apparently, they stimilate different pleasure centres of my brain than Ms. Kates'.
I read her farewell column with bemusement, until she commented on he difficulty that comes with finding new ways to describe sushi. "Aha", I thought. "So we are on the same page". I have reviewed my share of sushi joints, with more to come; but they tend to pile up in my "complete your review folder". It's raw fish-hopefully fresh; rice; seaweed; and occasionally fun deep-fried stuff.
Kenkou offers all of these, in varying degrees of execution. It's all fine; designed to be consumed in mass quantities, soyou don't really consider how any one piece tastes.
All-You-Can Eat sushi is eating, not dining; a robotic process that places filling your belly ahead of savoring each dish. I eat. I taste umami-bomb miso and allegedly spicy ramen. Hot, lightly filled gyoza and cool fish on cool rice. I rely on soy-wasabi sludge for a flavour punch. I don't get sick. That's good enough for me.
The sole item worth singling out are the Golden Shrimp; tempura shrimp wrapped in sweet potato strings before deep-frying. They alone are enough.
Ms. Kates now writes for the Post City chain of papers, from the wilds of Thornhill.
I've already added their website to my favourites list.
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