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.