Last night at the ROM’s C5, a stellar group of chefs came together for The Stop for Food Chef Challenge. The night-long cooking showdown was created to draw awareness to Stop for Food, a month-long series that sees 27 top restaurants offering both a $50 and a $35 prix fixe menu throughout March. For each meal, $10 or $5 respectively will go directly to the innovative anti-hunger programs at the Stop Community Food Centre. (The image above shows the Stop's Chris Brown sending out lamb hors d'oeuvres to the crowd.)
The restaurants offering the specials are 7 Numbers; Amaya the Indian Room; Amaya’s Bread Bar; Amuse-Bouche Restaurant; Blacktree Restaurant; C5; Cowbell; Frank; Frida; Gilead Bistro; Hank’s; Marben; Niagara Street Café; Pangaea; Reds Bistro and Wine Bar; Roosevelt Room; Table 17; The Drake Hotel; The Harbord Room; The Wine Bar; Torito Tapas Bar; Trevor Kitchen and Bar; Universal Grill; Veritas Local Fare; Vertical Restaurant; Via Allegro Ristorante, and Zucca Trattoria. Several of these sent chefs into the competition.
By the time guests gather, the kitchen is already a sea of white jackets, most sporting the badge of Cross Town Kitchens – a posse of Toronto chefs who come together to promote awareness about local food issues. At one end of the open kitchen is Team 1 (above), including Jamie Kennedy, Anthony Davis of the Roosevelt Room and Jason Inniss of Amuse-Bouche.
At the other, Team 2: Luis Valenzuela from Torito Tapas Bar, Bertrand Alépée from Amuse Bouche, Ted Corrado from C5 and Chris Brown of The Stop. To watch the action is reminiscent of nothing so much as Olympic hockey; these are teams of A players who’ve brought their best game. In a pack of alpha dogs, co-ordination is more important than competition, and this powerhouse lineup proceeds to execute a masterful choreography.
Above even the rising conversation is the ever present hiss of oil, punctuated by the clinking of ceramic spoons. For Team 2, Luis Valenzuela (working with an injured finger, above) sets up the action, shepherding pale rose coils of lamb sausage into the oven. They emerge reduced, browned and moist with richness.
Chris Brown (below) holds sliced sausage chunks delicately with his thumb and second finger only, nestling them into spoons that already hold potato rounds. He takes one aside momentarily to trim an errant piece. Then he tops each mound with a dark green intensely minty garnish, tapping it with a forefinger to settle it into place.
A rush of sausage aroma hits the air as Valenzuela brings more sausages out of the heat.
Bertrand Alépée gently drops a basket of potato gnocchi into a mini deep-fryer on the counter. Brown spoons crisp chiffonaded parsnips over bites of tender rabbit. Alépée tops each with a dill pickle slice, then spikes them with twisted bamboo skewers,
A strong hot whiff of garlic emanates from the oven.
Brown tosses cooked gnocchi into a small stainless steel bowl, switching hands – it's hot. He salts one-handed, from a height. Then both hands move in the air in a frustrated bounce that signals “where’s my tool?” He spots a plain tablespoon and begins to tuck gnocchi bits into small white ramekins. He squeezes saffron-coloured mayonnaise into each from a plastic bottle that’s still labeled “olive oil”.
Valenzuela prepares another round of sausage.
At the stove, Alépée (pictured above, with Ted Corrado in motion) tosses a new batch of shredded parsnips, greens and condiments in a battered steel frying pan. It comes off the heat and he pours in what seems to be about a cup of something that looks like cream. The omnipresent hissing intensifies.
As if the period-ending siren has sounded, there’s a lull. A video flashes on a giant screen so the crowd can watch the chef teams shopping at Fiesta Farms earlier in the day. Brown, relaxing for a moment, taps his Mill Street Organic Lager bottle down on the counter with just enough force to make the foam rise up to the lip, and no more. Alépée has fashioned a paper-napkin neckerchief for his bottle. Brown snaps to alertness, checks the oven for overlooked dishes, sees nothing and relaxes again.
Suddenly, we’re into a new period of action. Brown tosses a new batch of gnocchi with one hand. Valenzuela wipes down the sausage counter, leaving his barcloth neatly nested on the cutting surface.
Ted Corrado is, inexplicably, yellow carded by the emcee for some breach of sportsmanship.
Team 2 continues to set up the same plays with numerous permutations and combinations. The air gets heavier; the hot garlicky oiliness intensifies. Foreheads grow damper and iron-creased chef’s whites grow limper. The action never lets up, but it’s a little rawer now as the fatigue of a long day starts to show just a little.
How many batches of parsnips come out of the pan? How many sausage chunks are skewered to potatoes? How many dozen gnocchi morsels are spooned into how many ceramic cups?
Finally, there’s a gradual slowing. The hiss of oil stops; the heat and smokiness in the air diminish. Both teams cease their activities. The chefs gather and grin and begin the process of unwinding.
A giant cheque is presented: $40,000 to the Stop. Team 2 is declared the winner, but there are no losers. In the end, every arm is around every shoulder, and there’s a beer in every fist.





















