Its a Thursday night at about 8:30. I’m dressed in jeans and a cardigan. We’ve been painting all day; splatters in my hair, on my arms. We are tired, hungry, a little brain dead and in need of nourishment. Its a little late to start thinking about dinner and we drive aimlessly.
The Set Up
We end up peering at the menu in front of Cava. It’s a place we’ve been hearing a lot about since our friend started working in the kitchen. Toronto Life has put it on the hot seat and many articles espouse it’s take on shared plates and tapas inspired dishes.
We head in, feeling slightly under dressed and a little unsure of the menu. I’m not going to lie, the menu is long and often a little sparse when it comes to actually describing the dish.
The host greets us coldly. Really coldly. When I ask if we could get a seat at the bar -where we usually sit so we can see the action – I get sized up from head to toe before being offered a table in the far corner of the restaurant, away from and mostly out of site of the other diners. He offers to take our coats and hang them for us, but then, at once as though realizing who he is speaking to, changes tact and suggests we just go ahead and throw them on our chairs.
Fair enough, I looked a little rough around the edges, but not a welcoming start to what is supposed to be a wonderful meal. While I understand that we do not fit the typical Cava client profile, we are by no means unwanted guests. We both work in the industry, we are gracious and polite, tip really well and have a habit of spending money at good restaurants. More to the point, while the restaurant is full, most people are finishing their meals, we are are clearly the first new customers in some time. I fail to see the harm of sitting another table. I fail to see the harm in pulling another cover to pad the daily numbers. For the most part, restaurants that do well make the experience, warm and welcoming. They do not set out to isolate and alienate their clientele. Not a great start to a meal we were both excited to eat.
While the full impact of our lack luster welcome sinks in, I stew at the table. I’m a little pissed off and I don’t get a reprieve when our waiter when asked to recommend a wine, heads straight to the up-sell offering up the most expensive wine as it has had ‘a little more vinification.’ For those keeping score vinification, is a wine word describing the actual process of making wine; from grape to bottle. I’m not sure how having a more vinified wine constitutes a better glass, but hey, this is Cava and so far, they clearly know better.
The Punchline
The waiter comes back with the wine, which to his credit, is quite lovely. He asks us if it our first time here and if we need any help deciphering the extensive menu. I tell him that yes it is in fact our first time here, but we have been very excited to try the menu as our friend, working in the kitchen, has been telling us wonderful things about the food.
There is a small thunderclap. ‘Oh,’ says the waiter, ‘who’s that?’ We explain our hook up in the kitchen and the most remarkable things begin to happen. Our waiter vanishes into the kitchen and comes back a little less rigid then before. Apparently, we are not the low life, dirt bags they thought we were. Instead, we are to be treated as – gasp – real customers.
The mood lightens, the service ramps up exponentially. Gone are the pre- judged attitudes, gone are the flippant remarks. In their place is a smiling, informative, and exciting restaurant. Maybe this is the Cava everyone’s been hyped up about?
The above really did happen and it really, bothered me for two reasons. First, I think its completely inappropriate to pre judge your customers. You may never know who you are serving and most of the hang ups you project onto a client are, usually, in fact, your own. Second, we were both really excited to try the food and its really hard to stay excited after such a lousy first impression.
We decide, despite our initial misgiving with the place, to let the kitchen dictate our meal. We hand over our menus and keep our fingers crossed. Really, we are here for the food and can’t wait to sample what the kitchen has to offer.
The Food
Our first taste is wonderful. Gamay-poached foie gras with prune plum chutney. As with all the dishes we sampled, it was clear that a lot of care was put into the preparation of the dish. All the ingredients shone through and nothing was overly complicated.
Next up was the charcuterie plate. Four well made, clean tasting preserves. Served with pickles, hot peppers and spicy mustard. The portions were perfect for two. The duck liver and foie gras mousse was outstanding.
Our first hot dish was deep fried egg plant with a tomatillo sauce, fresh cheese and a light drizzle of honey. Again, the care in preparation was evident and the falvours and textures were wonderful.
Its worth noting that despite the lousy start, things had gotten better. The service was bang on, the atmosphere was improved dramatically and we started to relax a little.
However, the train breaks down again. We finish the lovely egg plant. The plate is cleared and we wait for the next course.
And we wait.
And wait.
Not really a big deal. The server comes by and offers us some more wine, this glass on the house. Things are looking up.
We wait.
Then out of the blue a new waiter whisks a plate onto our table, coughs out a meek and mostly inaudible description of the food and is gone post haste. We sit and stare at the food. Its sable fish and, what we learn later, black rice risotto. We barely have time to try the fish when two more courses arrive at the same time. All rapidly getting cold.
It looks like the food was waiting and no one got the message to pick it up. We got our final three courses served en mass and luke warm.
The final three: Sable fish with black rice risotto and escarole, flank steak with chimmichurri pesto and root vegetable puree, and a mushroom tamal.
The steak was very tasty, but overly tough. The tamal, while quite tasty, seemed a little out of place. The sablefish was wonderful. It was by far the highlight of the meal. It was cooked to perfection and worked really well with the risotto. In many respects, it sums up what I am sure the restaurant is capable of.
We decided to pass on dessert and hit the road. However, before we could leave, a fantastic chocolate tasting platter arrived along with a sampling of Cavas ice cream. The whole affair was delightful and really rounded the meal out.
The Wrap Up
The end result was a mixed bag. The food, for the most part lived up to the hype. It was prepared very well with quality ingredients. The plating was thoughtful and creative yet simple and accessible.Each dish a lovely contrast of flavors and texture.
The service for the most part, was great.
The exceptions of course weighed in heavily. The first impression we were greeted with was hard to forget even with wine and dessert. I can’t help but wonder what the experience would have been like if I didn’t name drop. It also frustrates me that there were different levels of service available to patrons at Cava.
Overall I would still give the restaurant a fairly high score. 7 out of 10 for sure. And that’s on the merit of the food. If you make it past the judgmental host and wait staff, your meal will be a wonderful experience.
Parting Thoughts
Cava is a fine dining restaurant, but it doesn’t need to feel stuffy and canned. Tapas are a social meal. They are meant to be shared with others. Cava, on many counts, seems to have missed the boat. The staff seem tense and the air is far too formal. Lighten up and show some enthusiasm for the wonderful food the kitchen is putting out.
As a final word, I want to thank our server for the wonderful effort he put forth to recover from a disastrous start. Not every service at every table is going to go smoothly. He plied us with wine and treated us well and did the best he could to ensure that our evening did not end on a sour note. Thank you for the effort.
Cava
Dinner for 2 approximately $150 with wine.
1560 Yonge Street
416.979.9918
www.cavarestaurant.ca
