On Tuesday, Rachelle and I went out to dinner at Ursa, a new restaurant on Queen West in Toronto. We knew virtually nothing about the place other than it was on Enroute Magazine’s list of the 10 best new restaurants in Canada, and so, looking for someplace different to celebrate our anniversary, we went there.
It’s a great space. Cool and sophisticated, it was an effortlessly busy spot full of confident looking people undaunted by the presence of beauty. It emitted a really charismatic, downtown vibe. Waxed mustaches, iPhones and carefully considered lighting were all around us. The chefs working in the open kitchen at the back were illuminated as if actors on a stage, coming across more like artists than cooks, so theatrical and precise were they in the execution of their tasks.
The food was great, arriving like sculpture on plates, each one a conversation piece to photograph and post on Instagram. It was a little bit precious and eating the food almost felt secondary, as if it was the destructive, privileged indulgence of ruining somebody else’s creation (think of a bullying child knocking over a sand castle) rather than a simple act of physical restoration.
Much of this feeling arose from the comically small portions that are served at Ursa. It was as if a parody, with the experience of dining in a restaurant having virtually nothing to do with actually getting fed. Our main course, that cost $26, was artfully arranged, but it had less than three ounces of beef in it. My appetizer, one piece of tofu that was embellished by a broth poured at the table, $12, and Rachelle’s beet salad, which I think contained one beet, was in the same ballpark. You weren’t being fed, you were being fluffed, and walking out of the restaurant– now hipster laden and cocktail shaken– we had to figure out where to go to eat. Seriously. It was as if the theatrics had been done with– as well as a good chunk of money– and now it was off to get something less “arranged,” but more sustaining.
By definition the foodie culture is judgmental. It’s implied that you need a certain level of education to appreciate what’s in front of you, but unlike other art forms, the consumption of the food does nothing to elevate you. It doesn’t make you a better, more empathetic person or lift you up and out of yourself, but simply moves you into a class above others. It’s the surface taste of things, and the love and nourishment we imagine present in meals is oddly displaced, with each trip to a restaurant more like a visit to a museum than a participatory, reciprocal expression of something shared and humble. Taste, as they say, is not a moral virtue, but a privileged acquisition that has more to do with “belonging” than the content of any given individual.
Comments
6 responses to “Dining at Ursa on Queen West in Toronto”
I could not agree more, Michael. I enjoy a ‘fine dining experience’ but prefer not having to chase down a cheeseburger when it is over.
It is a bit like a museum experience. You marvel over the creations but, unless there is substance, one walks away unsatisfied.
Having said that, I’ll do it again because I love museums.
Silly me.
Jon:
Rachelle and I have been fortunate enough to have done more than our fair share of high end dining, and I have to say that it’s something I’m enjoying less and less. The ritual of it all, the beauty and opportunity to go out and be amongst people, is always lovely, but at a certain point the thinly sliced wafers of experience that differentiate the food between the places becomes entirely meaningless. And of course, there’s a kind of obscenity to the expense, making the experience more pornographic than artistic.
I’m over-stating things here, I think, and I certainly don’t have the most sophisticated palette in the world, but for me there’s a terminal point for high level dining, and I think I’ve hit it. It just feels more like going to the opera than eating–too self-indulgent and serious-minded to be much fun.
Mr. Murray,
Sir, there was no need to knock the opera. Me, I would rather attend the opera than dine (finely or otherwise).
Yours etc.
CqueeGee:
Point taken!
It is a bit of a drag when chefs forget that in addition to pleasing the taste buds, they must also satisfy the stomach. Next time you are in Ottawa, you should check out the Side Door in the Market…beautiful decor, great taste combinations beautifully presented AND astoundingly reasonable prices. I find it hard not to eat at Side Door or Frasers when I’m heading out to eat.
I trust that your next fine dining experience will be more…fine.
Karen:
Every time we’re in Ottawa we go to the Fraser Cafe, usually for brunch, and I’ve heard great things about Side Door and very much look forward to going there. Ottawa has a lot of great restaurants that I really like.