A fair food blogger reveals biases. So for the sake of full disclosure: I entered Wildflower Grill (10001 107 Street) hell bent on hating it.

My friends and I used to go to Lazia (10200 102 Avenue), the original of the Lazia Group’s holdings, all the time while we were in high school. We loved the swanky decor (their glass-blown centrepiece sculpture was like nothing we had ever seen before), the generous portions, and the convenient City Centre Mall location. But our affections were eventually depleted by rising prices, inconsistent food quality, and poor service. I haven’t eaten there in years.

When I had heard that the Inn on 7th was being renovated by the people behind the Varscona and Meterra Hotels on Whyte, I was excited, and even more so when I heard they were looking for a tenant to fill their designated restaurant space. However, when it was released that the Lazia Group was the winner of said space, I was only cautiously optimistic that their choice was the right one. Their many construction delays (a likely by-product of the oft-cited “Alberta boom”) that pushed their opening back from Fall 2007 to February 2008 just helped maintain my scepticism about the Wildflower. After my visit last night, however, I am ready to take most of my criticisms back.

Having been open for just three weeks, to much less fanfare than expected in the local media in part due to the lack of a full-time Bistro writer at the Journal, the Wildflower Grill is situated on the ground floor of The Matrix Hotel. My first impressions weren’t wholly positive: the plastic “NOW OPEN!” sign above the door, while understandable given their innumerable opening delays, seemed tacky for a restaurant of this supposed calibre. Upon entry, I immediately noticed the poor couple seated at one of the tables facing the entryway – perhaps they didn’t have a reservation, but as the restaurant was never at capacity during my stay, I didn’t see why such an unfortunate placement had been given to them.

I was greeted by a friendly hostess who opened with what became a standard Wildflower staff line: “Welcome to the Wildflower.” Simple and oh so effective, this was one of the many small details that the restaurant nailed in their attempt to create an atmosphere where dining is a form of theatre. Since returning from New York, this was also the first time I didn’t mind the idea of checking my coat.

The hostess led me to a table near the kitchen, which I at first balked at, given the number of empty booths away from what could have been a disruptive sightline. But I later relished the opportunity to observe the kitchen staff. The owner was literally on top of the line cooks the entire night, pacing around the area to ensure dishes were delivered efficiently and that the servers were taking care of their guests. Because of this, I couldn’t blame the staff for seeming to be slightly on edge, so eager (and needing) to please they were.

As my “Welcome to the Wildflower” server Adam went to retrieve a glass of tap (not sparkling, or bottled still) water for me, I surveyed the decor. I nearly missed the beautiful wine cases on my way in, impressive but not pompously so. Everything was chic and simple: beaded curtains; dark carpeted floor; white booths (which they may come to regret after a year of wear); flower portraits; and lastly, a genuine, stemless orchid in a small hand-blown glass bowl on each table – management were really pulling out all the stops.

Shermie joined me soon after, and we took our time to peruse the page-long menu. I had warned her that the entrees were expensive, with plates ranging from the $26 butternut squash ravioli to the $49 beef tenderloin & lobster pairing. But to be fair, the prices are on par with other boutique hotels in the city, such as Madison’s Grill at the Union Bank Inn. Though the Wildflower claims to offer “New Canadian Cuisine”, their entrees don’t appear to demonstrate a theme of any kind – a token pasta dish complemented by a few requisite beef and game plates “Canadian” does not make.

Shermie opted for the Mesquite Grilled Alberta ‘Prime’ Striploin ($48), while I chose the most foodie-centric dish on the menu: Chef Yoshi’s Bouillabaisse. Knowing that the chef was Japanese, I thought such an entree, prepared with Asian fixings, would allow me to best judge the quality of the restaurant’s offerings. While I intended to hone in on the fish, as shellfish really isn’t my cup of tea, I was excited as well about trying soba noodles, an ingredient I recently read about in Ruth Reichl’s Garlic and Sapphires.

After our orders were taken, Adam brought us amuses bouche. Count me shocked – I thought I had eaten in some fairly “fancy” restaurants in Edmonton, but none before Wildflower had ever served this pre-course. I wish I had written down the name of the amuse bouche, but all I can remember is the nice punch of flavour provided by the aged gouda.

Next, we were treated to a wonderful bread service, which at the Wildflower involved a lovely made-to-order brioche. Tasting just like the egg bread loaves available at T & T Supermarket, the brioche was delivered in the most clever serving vessel since frittatas in mini cast iron skillets – an oversized measuring cup. Two butters were provided, dressed with house-grown micro-greens, but really, the bread was sweet and fresh enough to be happily consumed sans adornment.

Everything was timed perfectly, as our entrees were made available shortly after our bread plates had been cleared and appropriate cutlery provided to us. My dish was artfully constructed, arranged as symmetrically as possible, and served with soy sauce, ginger, and wasabi mayo accompaniments. As expected, the collection of fruits de mer didn’t really appeal to me, though I did my best to finish the scallops and mussels in respect of the chef. The fish pieces were a mixed bag – the teriyaki halibut was the best of the trio – sweet and tangy, and cooked to a buttery soft texture, it put the rather bland sea bass and surprisingly tough salmon to shame. It took me a while to find a frame of reference for the bonito broth (a type of fish stock), but it eventually occurred to me that it tasted like a saltier miso soup – a lovely broth that seems to warm one from the inside. Shermie enjoyed her steak (as well as the quiche side), but said that it wasn’t as good as the Petite Filet at Ruth’s Chris.

The surprise of the evening came when Chef Yoshi actually came out of the kitchen to personally visit with every table! Some may view this as unnecessary pandering, but as someone with a keen interest in food, this was too cool. Of course, when he asked if we had any questions, all I could conjure up was something I immediately wished I could take back – I asked for help identifying the bamboo in my dish. Of course, given that I haven’t had bamboo shoots in recent memory, I can’t be too embarrassed.

We elected to spring for a “sweet ending” to our meal, and that was the best decision we made all night, both opting for the Chocolate Tasting. While what we received was slightly different than the menu advertised, neither of us would have complained as dessert was an absolute masterpiece. The presentation of our dish was like those found in larger metropolitan centres (or Iron Chef America), not in Edmonton, I thought. Although there were a multitude of elements incorporated, I appreciated the flavour sophistication they tried to reach, and if anything else, the variety that $12 bought us. The mango compote & sorbet was deliciously refreshing and the pineapple foam was interestingly paired with the concentrated dense chocolate ‘brownie’, but our favorite was undoubtedly the milk chocolate parfait, velvety smooth and comparable to traditional gelato.

The Wildflower Grill begs for another visit in about six months, when the new car smell has worn off. Still, a restaurant like this can only heighten the bar for others like it, and I really do hope that the Lazia Group doesn’t let it fall away with neglect like its other properties.

Spurned by another Entertainment Book coupon offer, May and I met up at the easily-missed Accent European Lounge (8223 104 Street) on Whyte Avenue for a pre-show dinner. You may remember the previous occupant of the space – Milan’s – but with a new owner (and the same chef), Accent was born in March 2007.

When I arrived just after 5:30pm on Saturday, I found the restaurant empty, save for one group in the corner. Business was steady over the course of our meal, however, and the room was nearly full by the time we left two hours later.

Accent is charming and cozy, and can be understood best as Bistro Praha’s younger, hipper cousin. Dim, but with great foresight in lighting placement, the room wasn’t dark, taking full advantage of wall sconces and pendant lamps. Tabletop candles provided some of the requisite ambiance, and played well against the room’s dark wood. I also loved the copper inlay on the tables – they added both a nonchalant touch of class and a not-oft seen method of table dressing. I did think, however, that the two television sets (or at least, the one not above the bar) were out of place. Judging from that evening, I don’t believe those who choose to dine at Accent would be using the space to follow game contests.

We were tended to by the lone waitress, a bubbly personality with a perfectly welcoming presence in the restaurant. She gave us ample time to peruse the menu, and didn’t flinch when I mentioned the fact that I had a coupon. The menu was actually a little less “European” than I expected, with the only transferable dishes between its older, more stalwart Bistro Praha relative being the Wiener Schnitzel and Baked Goulash. May and I ended up with the decidedly more commonplace Filet Mignon ($26) and Baked Salmon ($21), respectively.

Our wait for entrees was lengthy, given that most in the room hadn’t yet ordered. But we were satiated when we received our plates, especially with the generous servings of steamed vegetables provided. Filets of salmon are difficult to mess up, and aren’t ever really spectacular, as it was in this case. The pan-fried potatoes were a nice treat though.

Less pretentious and more casual than Flavours, but with a less interesting menu than Packrat Louie, I don’t think I will make many frequent returns to Accent. But if you’re looking for a bit of charm on Whyte that can’t be found at a bar, I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Accent.

Like being trapped in a scene from Groundhog Day, Mack and I have been having the same start-stop conversation about a new Mexican chain that broke ground in Alberta about a year ago. It would go something like this:

[driving past a Taco Del Mar]

Sharon: Oh, look that’s the new taco place. They opened five locations in Edmonton just recently.
Mack: Yes, I know. We’ve had this conversation. I blogged about it over a year ago.
Sharon: Really?!
Mack: Yes, really. This is the third time we’ve had this conversation.

So we figured before Mack killed me to stop the echoing, we thought it would be best to give Taco Del Mar a try.

On Friday night, we headed to the location at 17th Street and 38th Avenue. There was only one other table occupied upon entry, though a trickle of people came through while we sat eating our meal.

In high school, Boston Pizza used to be at the top of our restaurant repetoire. I suppose it still is a frequent fallback choice for large group gatherings, but not as often as in the past. While undoubtedly comfortable and low key, I’ve found the food at BPs unforgivably inconsistent, so I deign to eat there unless absolutely necessary.

Dickson and I found ourselves there for his friend’s birthday dinner, and needing to quiet our hungry stomachs before a night at the symphony, we ordered a new menu item to share – Boston’s Poutine ($6.25).

It was thankfully quick, but nothing exceptional. For that price, I could have ordered nearly two of Route 99‘s generous servings of poutine.

Inspired by a true 2-for-1 coupon offer, Mack and I met up at Allegro Italian Kitchen (10011 109 Street) for dinner on Friday night.

I have been to Allegro only once in the past, lured there by the promise of a live piano player on Saturday evenings. It was my fault for ordering what I did, but the chef used an amount of orange zest only reconcilable for those with scurvy.

Walking in just before 5:30pm, there was only one other table occupied. The efficient hostess sat us near the kitchen, which I didn’t mind for the relative warmth it provided (and the distance away from the door – it was freezing outside). As I surveyed the dining room – with a piano situated in the corner and a dessert case and bar along one wall – it occurred to me that Allegro was more of a bistro than anything else. Sure, the dim lights and tabletop candles provided some ambiance, but with awkward metal furniture and an open space that couldn’t have been filled with more seats, Allegro fit the archetype of a restaurant more suited for the jostling lunch crowd than a quiet dinner.

I completely forgot to snap a picture of the menu, and thus, the food details will be few and far between in this review. The name of Mack’s pasta order has been lost on me, while I ordered the veal-filled cannelloni. To avoid any possible rudeness with the bill later on, I mentioned up front to our server that we intended on using the Entertainment Book offer. She acknowledged this, and remained friendly throughout the evening.

Our entrees arrived very promptly, and I don’t think our portion sizes suffered at all from the mention of a coupon. My cannelloni was drenched in a lovely, rich cream sauce, peppered with mushrooms just slightly cooked (the best way to eat them, in my opinion).

I have no real complaints about this experience at Allegro – great service and good food. But as a whole, I do think it is more conducive for daytime meals; the price and lack of real ambiance just don’t mix.

Lunch options around my workplace are few and far between. While our location is great for those who are looking for a mid-afternoon jolt of fresh air via a stroll in the park, the only quick food spots are the Copper Pot (expensive to eat-in, but better than their take-out menu) and Zuppas (has a cult following because of a dearth of neighbourhood choices, I think, as their mainstay wraps and pastas are just not that good).

A few coworkers and I were looking for fresh ideas, and I remembered Saigon Givral (11005 Jasper Avenue). Offering a healthy and interesting alternative to sandwiches, their Vietnamese subs were praised by many, including May.

Though we really could have bundled up and walked, we took the easy way out (or more challenging, actually, having to navigate the one-way roads) and drove. My coworker dropped me off at the non-descript strip of businesses beneath an apartment complex and drove off to find parking.

Entering Saigon Givral, it is clear that their primary mode of business is takeout. The space is dominated by the counter, where the subs are made fresh to order. There were a few small tables and folding chairs set up against the perimeter of the entrance, but I’m sure for the most part they functioned more as a waiting area than anything else. I was greeted by the friendly proprietor, who promptly took down my multi-item requests. It was early for the lunch crowd (11am), but likely the chilly weather deterred what is usually a brisk time of business for them. The lack of accessible parking reveals the nature of the typical Saigon Givral customer – those within walking distance in the towers nearby.

For $5.25 (including tax!), I was given an oven-toasted 12 inch sub filled with either satayed chicken or beef, mozzarella, pickled carrots, cucumber, onion, green peppers, cilantro, homemade mayonnaise and black pepper for some kick. I agreed to split half of my chicken sub for half of my workmate’s beef version, so I was able to try both types of meat. In my opinion, the beauty of these subs was the absolute melding of flavours. The cheese melted between the crevices in between the vegetables and the meat, and the mustard-y mayonnaise rounded out the sandwich nicely. My only modest critique is that Saigon Givral uses regular submarine bread (as opposed to the more traditional French baguette), but even that can be overlooked for the sheer portion size and the preference that some people have for softer bread.

The proprietor recommended calling ahead to order (hours are 10am-7pm, Monday to Friday, and 11am-5pm on Saturdays) for prompt pick-up, but as my brief wait was pleasant, I don’t think I would mind just dropping in again in the future. And really, for $5.25, the deal cannot be beat by anyone else within walking distance of Saigon Givral.