Admittedly, buffets are not really my thing. I am typically leery of any food that has been sitting beneath a heat lamp for any period of time, not to mention that I've worked in kitchens and understand that "buffet" is usually synonymous with "leftover feed tray". However, putting my judgements aside, I felt it necessary to try out Milton's newest in cultural cuisine at The Mint Leaf, fine Indian cuisine and lounge.
Dining out on a lunch with my coworkers, one of which brings her own authentic Indian heritage critique, we hit the service line and loaded up our plates with what I must admit was a fairly well presented array of food.
I took a bit of everything of course, from the Chicken Pakora to the Pindi Cholle (chickpeas with coriander and ginger) and Beef Rogan Josh (slow cooked beef with green cardamom, cloves and cinnamon) and while there was plenty of food to be had, I felt like something was missing. Nothing was inedible by any means, though the Baklava was incredibly too sweet for my liking, it just all seemed so very plain.
Usually when I dine out for Indian I get spicy, flavourful, aromatic dishes, but it seems like The Mint Leaf is opting for a safer route, perhaps to appeal to a greater and still unfamiliar public. If this is the case then I respect their sacrifice but feel that it comes at far too unfortunate a price for those who are expecting the real deal. With that being said, however, we were eating a lunch buffet and therefor could not simply make a request with the kitchen to kick it up a notch, so immediately I know a return visit to the menu is required. And I will say this: the portion sizes of each dish were more than fair - healthy size servings of chicken, fish and beef, and nice sized pakora; even though it was a buffet, I only needed one trip to the line, and for a reasonable price, I didn't feel ripped off for stopping at only one plate.
The one thing I will give the place higher than normal points on is its design and atmosphere. It's hard to imagine (for all us born and raised Milton folk) that The Nascar Pit, which should have given out complimentary vaccines to every patron, could have been so elegantly transformed. There is a deep rich motif running throughout the hardwood floors, well placed wine displays, tasteful art selections and wonderfully presented tables; and the place is huge I might add! Divided into two areas, they have a main dining room which I just described, as well as a dimly lit lounge area that seems to call for a martini or two in my near future. In fact, I think the only downside to its size is the perception people will have when they see so many empty tables, which shouldn't suggest they aren't busy, they just have a lot of floor space to fill in.
So would I dine again at The Mint Leaf? Well, the staff and service were very friendly and prompt, and as for the food I feel I have to in order to experience their menu properly, though I would likely not return for the buffet. Would I recommend that others give it a go? Certainly, but not without heeding a fair warning that what they are about to experience does not, in my opinion, properly represent the full flavours of true Indian cooking.
Oh, and I feel I should also point out for the vegetarians in the crowd that they do provide a full meat-free menu, and where meat is present, they are strict on using halal meat only (which means, to those curious, that it was slaughtered my means strictly governed by Muslim or Islamic law)
So, try it out, enjoy it for what it is, leave full and let me know what you think.
The Mint Leaf
370 Main Street, Milton, On
http://www.mintleafrestaurant.ca/index.html
Phil
PS I am trying hard to get pictures loaded onto the site but my camera has bit the dust and until I get a new one it's going to be a little more difficult so please be bare with me.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The First Literal Translation
So I have hopefully made my intentions clear with what this site hopes to accomplish; inspire you to try the new, the exciting, the unfamiliar, everything that's just waiting to be seen and felt. And while all of that is still the greater part of the picture, I find myself incapable of escaping the desire to write about my literal meaning of exploring our own backyard. So on a night such as this, that is exactly what I intend to do.
With a warm breeze sweeping across the lot, I am suddenly drawn to the thought of pulling out a lawn chair and sitting in what I once considered a massive field, a never ending sea of green, green grass. Of course, and quite unfortunately, that field has shrunk with age and it now stands simply as a fair sized lot of grass. Regardless of its scale, it continues to hold and build fond and lasting memories.
Its shape has changed; where the great willow tree once stood, tree house and all, there now sits a narrow hollow. The dog house along the shed is long gone, as is its occupant, my poor beloved Holly. And where a basketball net once cried for attention, there is just a solid and cold cement slab, sinking more and more each year from the settling of the land.
No matter which corner I look into, however much it has changed, there will always be a memory to spark some inspiration. A remembrance of my brother and I setting up the tent to camp under the stars. My mother gardening through the summer, and, as always, my father by the grill, delivering delicious tidings to our plates. Ah, the smells and tastes of summer barbecue.
As I sat there in a deepening thought, it became truly saddening to me that this house I once called a home will no longer invite me in so graciously. After 25 plus years of taking for granted the walls that helped shelter me from so many storms, the only thing I can do is take solace in the fact that, soon, a new family will be forming lasting memories of their own within its layered walls. I hope they do so with the content I feel now.
And so what does this all mean to you? Why bother reading about the thoughts of someone whose memories you do not share? Well, I think it's because we all have our own memories to rekindle, our own fading thoughts to caress. I believe that a great part of exploring the unknown is rediscovering those things that make us adventurous, and as we grow older, those tendencies seem to fade. So, by stepping foot off the back stoop and pausing to think about what got me here today, I feel a reconnection with my carefree childhood attitude. I remember things that spark inside me what we all wish to feel, and it only makes me want more.
The backyard I grew up in has changed, without question it is a different place with different scenery, but that shouldn't mean I can't build new memories within it. It shouldn't instill fear in me to step onto the grass and feel something new beneath my toes. If nothing else, the new landscape should only entice and invite that very action. To take a step before I leap, to try the new through the old. To pick up where I somehow left off.
And so I think you should too. Make this your first big adventure. Instead of flicking the TV, take a conscious step outside and begin to recollect those childhood memories of your own backyards, your own willow trees and your own basketball courts; when was the last time you gave your loving childhood pet a minute's thought during the day? (and I ask that in the most respectful way possible.) I suggest not getting defeated by the intimidating changes life can dish out, instead take them as a chance to start getting excited again about everything that can still be yours.
More to come everyone.
Phil
With a warm breeze sweeping across the lot, I am suddenly drawn to the thought of pulling out a lawn chair and sitting in what I once considered a massive field, a never ending sea of green, green grass. Of course, and quite unfortunately, that field has shrunk with age and it now stands simply as a fair sized lot of grass. Regardless of its scale, it continues to hold and build fond and lasting memories.
Its shape has changed; where the great willow tree once stood, tree house and all, there now sits a narrow hollow. The dog house along the shed is long gone, as is its occupant, my poor beloved Holly. And where a basketball net once cried for attention, there is just a solid and cold cement slab, sinking more and more each year from the settling of the land.
No matter which corner I look into, however much it has changed, there will always be a memory to spark some inspiration. A remembrance of my brother and I setting up the tent to camp under the stars. My mother gardening through the summer, and, as always, my father by the grill, delivering delicious tidings to our plates. Ah, the smells and tastes of summer barbecue.
As I sat there in a deepening thought, it became truly saddening to me that this house I once called a home will no longer invite me in so graciously. After 25 plus years of taking for granted the walls that helped shelter me from so many storms, the only thing I can do is take solace in the fact that, soon, a new family will be forming lasting memories of their own within its layered walls. I hope they do so with the content I feel now.
And so what does this all mean to you? Why bother reading about the thoughts of someone whose memories you do not share? Well, I think it's because we all have our own memories to rekindle, our own fading thoughts to caress. I believe that a great part of exploring the unknown is rediscovering those things that make us adventurous, and as we grow older, those tendencies seem to fade. So, by stepping foot off the back stoop and pausing to think about what got me here today, I feel a reconnection with my carefree childhood attitude. I remember things that spark inside me what we all wish to feel, and it only makes me want more.
The backyard I grew up in has changed, without question it is a different place with different scenery, but that shouldn't mean I can't build new memories within it. It shouldn't instill fear in me to step onto the grass and feel something new beneath my toes. If nothing else, the new landscape should only entice and invite that very action. To take a step before I leap, to try the new through the old. To pick up where I somehow left off.
And so I think you should too. Make this your first big adventure. Instead of flicking the TV, take a conscious step outside and begin to recollect those childhood memories of your own backyards, your own willow trees and your own basketball courts; when was the last time you gave your loving childhood pet a minute's thought during the day? (and I ask that in the most respectful way possible.) I suggest not getting defeated by the intimidating changes life can dish out, instead take them as a chance to start getting excited again about everything that can still be yours.
More to come everyone.
Phil
Sunday, July 26, 2009
And so it begins
Welcome to The Locale, a place designed for the end of the day to learn a little something more about our own backyards; those spaces and places close by that perhaps we didn't know were there.
With so much going on in the day to day, it seems we hardly allow ourselves the time to appreciate those little moments where pleasure distracts us and wipes away the stresses of work and money and everything else that tenses up in that little ball at the nape of our neck. My goal through adventure and a little exploration is to take the time each day to massage that stress away and discover something new about the areas that surround us.
Whether it's a fine dining affair or a greasy spoon indulgence, a local band or a new-to-me hiking trail, I aim to share my experiences; pass them forward so that others may savor their rewards.
Of course I am no acclaimed critic and I post under no false pretenses. Though I have studied food and music, and know them both well, I can't for one second presume to think that your tastes will be the same as mine; but what I can at least hope for is that our adventurous natures are similar enough to give "new" a chance.
So check back in, I'll be updating often and hoping that you in turn will send some shout outs, recommendations, and critiques of your own. There's a whole world waiting outside the door, and by throwing out our maps, we can navigate to those places yet unknown.
Cheers all, we'll be talking soon.
With so much going on in the day to day, it seems we hardly allow ourselves the time to appreciate those little moments where pleasure distracts us and wipes away the stresses of work and money and everything else that tenses up in that little ball at the nape of our neck. My goal through adventure and a little exploration is to take the time each day to massage that stress away and discover something new about the areas that surround us.
Whether it's a fine dining affair or a greasy spoon indulgence, a local band or a new-to-me hiking trail, I aim to share my experiences; pass them forward so that others may savor their rewards.
Of course I am no acclaimed critic and I post under no false pretenses. Though I have studied food and music, and know them both well, I can't for one second presume to think that your tastes will be the same as mine; but what I can at least hope for is that our adventurous natures are similar enough to give "new" a chance.
So check back in, I'll be updating often and hoping that you in turn will send some shout outs, recommendations, and critiques of your own. There's a whole world waiting outside the door, and by throwing out our maps, we can navigate to those places yet unknown.
Cheers all, we'll be talking soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)