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| - There are three main types of business in Forest Hill Village: coffee shops, banks, and restaurants.
Restaurants that survive in the area speak to the wisdom of knowing one's clientele. The few spots that try to become destinations generally don't last long. Success like Banfi's comes with playing it safe, keeping prices reasonably inflated, and serving customers like they were family. I visit occasionally, but see the same faces at the same tables every time I go. Dads carbo-load while moms order off-menu in order to satisfy the latest fad diet. Special requests and accommodations are readily granted.
If you arrive expecting a quiet, romantic dinner you've come to the wrong place. The place is all brick and stone; noice bounces off every surface so you must raise your voice to be heard. It doesn't help that tables are crammed on top of each other, or that diners near the entrance must contend with frequent blasts of cold air, and an ever-growing and glowering line-up of oglers and take-out customers. Claustrophobia eases when you realize that pretty much every table knows every other table.
Meat and seafood entrees change regulary. They're well-executed but so forgettable that I can't remember what I had. I think there was chicken, and some kinda sauce with wine in it, and maybe a few vegetables. You want a steak? Go to the Keg. At Banfi, you stick to the carbs.
Caprese salad is a good idea during summer. Gorgeous slabs of buffalo mozzarella and ripe tomato need and receive little adornment. If ou order this in February, you're missing the point.
Caesar salad is a hit year-round. Tender romaine slicked with a garlicky, anchovy dressing with so much bite that you feel it at the base of your jaw. Salad is important here. Sonsidering the orgy of starch and cheese to come, you'll want to be able to say "hey, I was healthy. I ate a salad".
Endive and arugula options incorporate the crunch of nuts, the sweetness of orange, and the pungency of grogonzola. I tire easily of those greens though, bitter and gritty if they're the only roughage on my plate. In cold weather, soup is a better idea. It'll have good broth, most likely tender beans, and a whack of more freshly-grated parm. An antipasto platter hits all the expected notes. It'd even make a decent DIY lunch sided with good house bread and chili-spiked olive oil.
Stuffed pasta-veal ravioli chief among them-are a hit. Light pasta pillows enclose gently-spiced filling, bathed in just wnough sauce to demand an extra slice of bread or two suitable for bowl-cleaning. Gnocchi in tomato cream sauce is similarly staisfying; the dumplings are airy, and the sauce contrasts tomato sharpness with creamy smoothness. Spaghetti Bolognese features toothsome noodles with well-textured slow-simmered sauce.
I love pasta carbonara, but let's face it, if I eat it with any frequency it will kill me; so I usually limit my consumption to once or twice a year. Banfi's version would make an excellent cause of death. More properly-cooked pasta, swaddled in porky-peppery-oniony-cheese-creamy goodness.
Pizzas are also good, either split as an appetizer or consumed solo. They're big enough that you could probably get two meals out of a pie; but you're not going to do that, are you? Custs are properly crisp, sauce is barely smeared, toppings are plentiful. No matter how mangiacake you may be, you have a place at Banfi's table. Marghareta is simple pizza goodness, especially when dashed to hell with more chili oil. A Canadian version adds old school pepperoni, mushrooms and green peppers in an upscale version of the chain standard. The Lonsdale version sees delicious fennel-driven sausage ond goronzola alongside oven-wilted red onions.
Coffee is properly strong. Desserts largely forgettable except for the tiramisu, which packs a powerful caffeine-alcohol double dropckick.
Forest Hill dwellers may often find themselves asking "what do you feel like for dinner". Banfi is the easy answer.
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