| rev:text
| - Fire on the East Side (FOTES) is the kind of place that I should really like, yet continually disappoints. A frequent spot for failure-to-launch first brunch dates, and send-offs for barely-noticed co-workers, FOTES promises big southern-style flavours on the menu, but fails to ignite on the palate.
I'll say up front, my favourite thing about FOTES is their water. Served from an ice-cold pitcher, it's spiked with citrus. Good for me, bad for the resto, since I don't feel the need to order a beverage. Service is polite and accommodating, though not memorable.
The food itself is branded Southern, with detours into Cajun county. in practice, this means a lot of deep-fried chicken, which is pleasant but bland.
Brunch is the best thing going. Eggs benny are properly poached in water, not microwave radiation; hollandaise is sunny; peameal bacon arrives overdone, but that's how I like it. Salad accompanies most plates. Uniform mixed greens in uniform sweet vinaigrette. Why do Toronto restaurants think that salad pairs well with dessert topping? Still, the scambled eggs are fluffy, the roast potatoes golden outside and creamy inside (although you're better off ditching them for worthwhile frites)
Lunch is meh (squared). a gumbo starter is less Mardi Gras on the toungue than ash wednesday; no heat, no salt, no texture beyond stingy grains of rice, slimy okra and the odd overcooked bit of mystery seafood.
Crabcakes are just ok; thin shreds of seafood lost in old-bay heavy breading, rather than gorgeous clumps of knuckle meat.
An Angus burger is OK, but overcooked to toughness. It could be saved by the fat from the cheese, if only there were more than a teaspoon. Ditto for the pulled pork, which tastes as though it "fell off the bone" a while ago, and has spent the last while toughening in a warming tray.
Mainstream media teaches me that Southern cooking is all about warmth, family, and heart-stopping portions of fat and carbs. Cajun cooking should add a layer of heat and tasty pork/seafood to the party. FOTES should be a riot of flavour. Too often, it just leaves me cold.
|