| rev:text
| - Nothing says "I'm a F'n Lawyer" like walking suited-up past the metal detectors at Old Osgoode Hall, marching up the winding stairs and to the threshold of the Osgoode Hall Restuarant...well, other than actually practicing law, of course.
Truth be told, I love this place. The high ceilings; the stained glass windows; the law books that adorn the shelves (I believe it was once part of the law library). The white tablecloths and refined service and restrained, often muted cooking to service the needs of the white-shoes that pad these halls.
As a young lawyer, I'd buy lunch here occasionally, because my Bar card granted me easy access (although in truth it's open to the public), and because I'd be surrounded by the profession I'd work so hard to join.
The place literally crawls with lawyers in $1500 gravy-spotted suits or winged shirts and court-stripe pants, their barristers' robes lying, sweaty heaps in blue velvet initialled sacks. Some cluster together before the afternoon's battles, others treat clients with their own money (an expense account's a wonderful thing). For a certain species of people-watching, it can't be beat.
The food's not bad either. The Osgoode Hall Restaurant has seen it's share of prominent chefs, some of whom have gone on to bigger and better. Fair warning, it's only open for lunch, while courts are in session. If you pop by over the Christmas holiday, or on summer vacation, you'll likely be disappointed.
Meals aren't fancy; country-club food, really, for those who pine for the Empire and have to get back to work within 45 minutes.
The menu is short.
A soup; often a puree of root vegetables, is fine. Today it's butternut squash with apples. Both register, but you're in it for the smooth, creamy texture rather than the muted fall flavours. Salad is useless, as are greens in vinaigrette generally. Seriously, I'll charge you $8 for the same thing from my own kitchen, and still make enough to put my own kid through law school. Both are available as options for a prix fix, which has doubled in prix since I graduated...
The Upper Canada Club is a menu standby. Fresh roasted poultry, crispy bacon, the usual bed and a thin spread of mayo on toasted bread. I appreciate the kosher pickle shout-out, but would swap out the pedestrian potato chips for skinny tanned frites (though not the useless salad, for a $5 surcharge).
Menu specials usually include some version of quiche, which is great if you skipped breakfast before your hearing (brunch food goes down more easily), it's insides always properly custardy, it's shell buttery and flaky. There's also a pasta if you're so inclined, although I'm not. It looks fine, but needs a few shakes of chili to wake it up.
If you really want to feel lawyerly, go for the steak frites, order it rare, and have at it. Nature red in tooth and claw. We are all carnivores here. It's tender and just slightly gamy; the fries crisp and salty, the meal begging for a glass of red. I stick with water, since I haven't mastered drinking during the workday.
Coffee is fresh and hot, though less robust than you'd think. Lawyers run on coffee. At least I have, since I was a student. Desserts are cutely portioned, and often come with small scoops of ice cream. Nothing wrong there, but time is waiting, and I'm going to have to bill some serious hours to cover this tab.
Perhaps that's my one issue with the Osgoode Hall Restaurant these days. It used to be an excellent value. Now, it's a decent meal in a cool room; an legal version of the old Arcadian Court.
I still do enjoy it.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)