Mother Nature doesn't dawdle when it comes to imposing adverse weather conditions on the inhabitants below - when it rains, it pours.
With an impending thunderstorm warning heading our way, occhung and I contemplated alternatives to our originally planned hangout session, ultimately reverting to a walk through Kensington Market, which would then be succeeded by uptown adventures.
Deduced from prior research, I arrived at the surmise that Kensington and Chinatown are the two leading districts in DineSafe offenses in the downtown core. (Church and Wellesley and several Garden District spots are next up on the list.) That being said, I was especially meticulous in choosing a dining location would provide not only gustatory enjoyment but thwart possible cases of food poisoning.
With an impending thunderstorm warning heading our way, occhung and I contemplated alternatives to our originally planned hangout session, ultimately reverting to a walk through Kensington Market, which would then be succeeded by uptown adventures.
Deduced from prior research, I arrived at the surmise that Kensington and Chinatown are the two leading districts in DineSafe offenses in the downtown core. (Church and Wellesley and several Garden District spots are next up on the list.) That being said, I was especially meticulous in choosing a dining location would provide not only gustatory enjoyment but thwart possible cases of food poisoning.
Hibiscus, the ever-popular vegan eatery known for oat flour crepes, had been my first pick; we unfortunately found ourselves in front of an unlit storefront that read: "MONDAY: Closed".
Millie's savoury crepes was the next closest option. However, it seemed that local renditions of the French dish were not on the menu today, as the lady informed us that their griddles had suffered an equipment breakdown.
Famished by this point, we turned the corner and settled for The Dirty Bird, a comfort food canteen that neither of us had previously visited. The stained monochromatic menu hung above the extremely minimal order-taking, order delivery, and cashier area.
Albeit delicious, most of the items sounded a tad excessive for a mid-day meal: "buttered maple waffle" Mmmmmm.
Our attention was instantly directed towards the Signatures selection, specifically The Dirty Bird'ger.
Millie's savoury crepes was the next closest option. However, it seemed that local renditions of the French dish were not on the menu today, as the lady informed us that their griddles had suffered an equipment breakdown.
Famished by this point, we turned the corner and settled for The Dirty Bird, a comfort food canteen that neither of us had previously visited. The stained monochromatic menu hung above the extremely minimal order-taking, order delivery, and cashier area.
Albeit delicious, most of the items sounded a tad excessive for a mid-day meal: "buttered maple waffle" Mmmmmm.
Our attention was instantly directed towards the Signatures selection, specifically The Dirty Bird'ger.
The Dirty Bird was "dirty" both figuratively and literally: fried chicken and waffles is an indulgent sweet-savoury combination commonly termed a "dirty" diet, but the establishment solidified this definition with its seriously filthy atmosphere.
All seating takes the form of bar stools and tall tables, which enables one to clearly view the remnants abandoned by other patrons on the ground. No-name sauce bottles are sticky, as expected, and uncapped, left to dry out from air exposure. The only capped condiment was the Heinz ketchup, which was thankfully the least greasy of the trio. Napkins were situated at every corner for easy access, though this was far from being synonymous with a clean environment.
While double-ended hooks were available for hanging light outerwear and small bags underneath the seats, I erred on the side of caution and avoided the apparatus altogether, my mind desperately trying to reject contemplating the various potential underlying substances. (Gum is one thing, but dried sauce mixed with breading-filled slobber is another.)
Besides these hooks, there was little space for placing personal belongings.
All seating takes the form of bar stools and tall tables, which enables one to clearly view the remnants abandoned by other patrons on the ground. No-name sauce bottles are sticky, as expected, and uncapped, left to dry out from air exposure. The only capped condiment was the Heinz ketchup, which was thankfully the least greasy of the trio. Napkins were situated at every corner for easy access, though this was far from being synonymous with a clean environment.
While double-ended hooks were available for hanging light outerwear and small bags underneath the seats, I erred on the side of caution and avoided the apparatus altogether, my mind desperately trying to reject contemplating the various potential underlying substances. (Gum is one thing, but dried sauce mixed with breading-filled slobber is another.)
Besides these hooks, there was little space for placing personal belongings.
|
|
Food items were served atop small rectangular trays lined with a single sheet of black (parchment?) paper and speared with (oddly lengthy) kabob skewers. This led to me to be especially wary of the overall hygiene of the restaurant, since most fast food joints that utilize such presentations, in fact, do not bother to thoroughly clean the trays before plating again (ahem Calii Love). The stickiness of the tray's perimeter was an allusive indication that my prediction was partially accurate, though we did not reside long enough to verify this theory.
|
|
The Dirty Bird'ger was prepared relatively quickly, with our names called out from the same compact preparation area. Waffles were dense and fluffy with a slight sweetness. The asymmetrical rounds were unexpectedly spongy with a myriad of tiny pockets; the surface topmost piece was crisp, but the remaining sides had become soggy from sauce absorption.
The chicken was well-seasoned and very crispy. Approximately 80% of the piece was solid flesh and flavour, while the remainder comprised of tendons, fat, and odd bits that hadn't been removed during the dividing process.
Fried chicken and waffles is a classic combination, but the "burger" stack that I sank my teeth into was merely average. Freshness had been severely compromised: the single piece of romaine lettuce was depressing and wilted, tomato slices were thin and sickly-looking, pickles were sliced too long and slightly dehydrated, etc.
The chicken was well-seasoned and very crispy. Approximately 80% of the piece was solid flesh and flavour, while the remainder comprised of tendons, fat, and odd bits that hadn't been removed during the dividing process.
Fried chicken and waffles is a classic combination, but the "burger" stack that I sank my teeth into was merely average. Freshness had been severely compromised: the single piece of romaine lettuce was depressing and wilted, tomato slices were thin and sickly-looking, pickles were sliced too long and slightly dehydrated, etc.
Mild options were few, as I was told that all items were either slathered in barbecue sauce or their housemade "Nasty Sauce", another spicy condiment. I opted for this dressing on the side, which proved a well-informed decision. The Nasty Sauce complimented the fried chicken, but became increasingly fiery with each dip of poultry.
Garbage bins were found towards the back of the shop. Placed on top were crumpled napkins and trays that had been emptied by responsible, self-sufficient customers. For those that weren't quite so independent, trash-laden trays were simply strewn about and left for the few members of kitchen staff to clear away.
On behalf of the two of us, I voluntarily took to ensuring that proper disposal practices were followed. However, the smear of sauce that brushed the back of my hand as I retreated from the garbage bin was far from the ideal reward.
On behalf of the two of us, I voluntarily took to ensuring that proper disposal practices were followed. However, the smear of sauce that brushed the back of my hand as I retreated from the garbage bin was far from the ideal reward.
The Dirty Bird shares a washroom with the adjacent taco joint and involves travelling down a steep, rickety flight of yellow-tarnished stairs. At the foot of the stairs is an eerie atmosphere: unthinkably quiet and unreasonably dark.
I step into the women's bathroom and fumble around in the dark before concluding the unthinkable absence of a light switch.
"No matter." I thought, "I'll simply wash my hands first then continue searching."
Propping up the door with one foot, light from the hallway was allowed to penetrate and illuminate a small section of the bathroom. As I pulled away to grab a paper towel though, it was discovered that the tin was completely empty.
I step into the women's bathroom and fumble around in the dark before concluding the unthinkable absence of a light switch.
"No matter." I thought, "I'll simply wash my hands first then continue searching."
Propping up the door with one foot, light from the hallway was allowed to penetrate and illuminate a small section of the bathroom. As I pulled away to grab a paper towel though, it was discovered that the tin was completely empty.
By this point, I had become extremely annoyed. In hopes of locating basic hygienic equipment elsewhere, I peered into the next stall over - the men's washroom. It was empty and equally as dim, but the aura I was feeling was grim and downright creepy, as if I had mistakenly entered a murder mystery simulation game and my character was the midst of clue-hunting.
Whipping around, I contemplated entering another hallway before the quietness of it all had me dashing back upstairs with wet hands. Real-life Danganronpa is not for me.
Whipping around, I contemplated entering another hallway before the quietness of it all had me dashing back upstairs with wet hands. Real-life Danganronpa is not for me.
|
|
We hustled out of the establishment soon after, since walking in the rain was definitely less freaky than the scene I had just witnessed.
The meal was decent enough to qualify as a simple lunch item, but lightyears away from deserving the hype they have been receiving for the past few years. Conclusively speaking, the visit was average at best in regards to food quality. Environment-wise, I shall never be able to abolish the spooky image of their dysfunctional bathrooms nor the repugnantly unclean state of the dining area.
(Side: Cocktail ice sphere makers?! I'm sold.)
(Side: Cocktail ice sphere makers?! I'm sold.)
The only spot that I had desperately wanted to visit was grk ygrt, thus we marched northward to the dessert parlour. My eyes had first been blessed by the colourful exterior design while roaming the area on Pedestrian Sunday after the Waterfront Artisan Market. Having already grabbed ice cream, we skipped this spot, though I made a mental note to return at some point in the future.
The logo and store layout has been modified substantially since last summer, now adopting a Greek God theme with bold use of matte black, glossy hot pink, and metallic gold. I'm uncertain whether the menu or item presentation have undergone similar changes, but the original logo remains stamped on their loyalty/business card.
grk ygrt is one of the few Kensington spots that openly display their food safety inspection pass with pride, which I offer striking appreciation towards. The menu revolves around frozen Greek yogurt and signature topping combinations; also offered are smoothies, milkshakes, and an unfrozen variation.
View the full album HERE !
|
|
"OH MY ZEUS" Frozen Greek Yogurt could be requested in two sizes: Mini ($4.50) and Regular ($6.00). The Mini is roughly on par with Pinkberry's smallest size, whereas the Regular correspondent to medium. Alternatively, one could choose to have it served with an egg waffle for a total of $8.50. Following much discussion, I settled on Maui Wowie, for its description sounded fruity and refreshing. ochungg, who revealed reluctance towards sour items, opted for Peanut Butter Jelly Time, captivated by the note of housemade peanut butter.
Maui Wowie provided an invigorating boost with peach preserve and white chocolate curls. Toasted coconut flakes added crunch and a sweet, nutty fragrance. Overall, the dessert was sweeter than it was tart. It boasted a velvety texture that was discernibly richer in protein than fat. I did find it quite cumbersome that the curls and coconut flakes would fall off with each scoop, but other than that, I have no complaints.
Peanut Butter Jelly Time was amazing in every way. Delectable housemade peanut butter drizzle, refreshing raspberry jam, and crunchy toasted granola swirled the tongue with each scoop. Plain Greek yogurt wasn't plain at all - it was heavenly. I had anticipated a signficiant amount of satiation from the peanut butter and sugar overload from the jam, but was overjoyed that both components yielded a light yet flavourful harmony. Indeed, ochungg had picked well.
Peanut Butter Jelly Time was amazing in every way. Delectable housemade peanut butter drizzle, refreshing raspberry jam, and crunchy toasted granola swirled the tongue with each scoop. Plain Greek yogurt wasn't plain at all - it was heavenly. I had anticipated a signficiant amount of satiation from the peanut butter and sugar overload from the jam, but was overjoyed that both components yielded a light yet flavourful harmony. Indeed, ochungg had picked well.
For those that have grown accustomed to unsweetened or lightly sweetened Greek yogurt, the shop reinvented the breakfast favourite into a treat that was satisfying but still packed with probiotics. Greek yogurt is an undeniably healthier alternative to its runny, low-fat counterparts, and with the OMZ combinations, sweetness content had be adjusted to one's liking.
|
|
Personally, I found it a better deal than Pinkberry - the LA-based franchise melts faster (or at least their Canadian East Coast locations do) and contains a noticeably greater amount of processed sugar. Staff was also extremely friendly and helpful. The fact that they offered a tiny, pristine washroom (with hooks!) was a bonus.
Beware: the location is not accessible and involves the ascent and descent of steep, colourful stairs. Patrons with physical limitations can still enjoy icy treats from the comfort of their beautiful outdoor patio, though will not be able to view the menu unless obtained digitally.
Continue reading Part 2 HERE !
Continue reading Part 2 HERE !
RSS Feed