shangrila hotel

The trip began with us being marooned for 2½ hours on the 401 and was followed with the unsurprising yet disconcerting demolishment of my beloved Red Sox. Thankfully, this Toronto getaway was heavily punctuated by food. So let’s focus on that, shall we?

To no one’s surprise I am obsessed with all things Momofuku, starting with the sculpture that jets dramatically from the ground near the entrance. Chinese artist Zhang Huan took two years to complete “Rising,” which has “peace pigeons” moving up the building’s facade and twisted tree branches that are meant to resemble the body of a dragon.

Drinks were had at Nikai, a bar and lounge located in a glass cube on the second floor of Momofuku. The cocktails are grouped into sparkling, stirred, shaken and classic twists. We indulged in Paper Plane (bourbon, lemon, aperol, amaro), Royal Bermuda (rum, lime, falernum), Sunrise and Sunset (amaro, cream soda) and an Alberta premium dark horse whiskey—all refreshing and delicious.

A walk down the stairs brought us to Momofuku Noodle Bar for dinner. Up first were the Pork Buns—they are what dreams are made of. Fluffy pillows of bread enveloped around soft pork belly, stuffed with tangy pickled cucumbers, scallions and a dollop of hoisin sauce. It is a well-thought-out combinations of flavours and textures. The Momofuku Ramen has shredded pork shoulder, creamy pork belly, green onions, a soft poached egg and fish cakes floating on tender noodles and submerged in the most delicious broth. After dinner, I snuck back upstairs to Momofuku Milk Bar for some take-away dessert—Crack Pie, a lavish object of my desire. Believe me when I tell you that this pie is good. Once you start eating this rich-sweet-salty-buttery-silky creation, you won’t be able to stop.

I then joined the rest of my peeps next door at the Shangri-La Hotel Lobby Lounge. The 90-seat Lobby Lounge is an urban living room. Natural light streams through two-storey windows that highlight large paintings, sculptures and an Italian handcrafted Fazioli piano set amid contemporary sofas and chairs. It was a particular frigid summer day so we huddled around the fireplace and had drinks and sipped on fancy tea (there are 68 different types to choose from). I loved lingering at this Tony hotel lounge. It felt like we had run away to a sumptous and sophisticated hideaway.

And with that, our weekend had concluded. As if on cue, our drive home left us stranded yet again, this time for a shorter period. Thoughts of steaming pork buns swirled around in my head and occupied the idol time. Toronto, Shangri-La, Momofuku—can’t wait till I see you again.

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Nowadays, it seems that many chefs are full-fledged brands first, cooks second. Money-printing machines armed with theme restaurants, much hyped cookbooks and TV shows. IMHO, many of these “rock star chefs” are undeserving of the spotlight and often tarnished by too much celebrity, too many product endorsements and simply too much hype. The focus on cooking appears to have gotten lost somewhere along the way.

I wish I had the superpower to bestow some of the chefs in my own life with fame, fortune and a cookware line. Case in point, my buddy’s mom. Recently, my taste buds were taken to heaven by her deconstructed lasagna. The dish was pure, authentic and skillfully presented. A true culinary experience, yet one that goes unrecognized but for the acclaim from the lucky few in her entourage (count me in as one of her fans).

But not all celebrity chefs are publicity-seeking and image obsessed. I’ve always had much reverence for Chef David Chang and his ability to maintain a strong sense of self and emphasize food over fame. He grew up working in his father’s bistros in D.C. He trained at the French Culinary Institute before taking jobs at various prestigious establishments. Working at local ramen shops in Japan led to him eventually starting his own restaurant, Momofuku. He now presides over a culinary empire that has been the recipient of two Michelin stars and numerous James Beard awards. For months, I talked everyone’s ear off about my upcoming trip to Momofuku TO, his newest venture. And now, here I was. About to feast on the cuisine of an artist.

The restaurant is fascinating. An odd tree-like sculpture hovers near its street-level entrance. Once inside, the split-level space is extremely unpretentious and dominated by minimalist design in muted tones. Tables with backless stools, towering ceilings, stone and glass complete the look. It’s clear from the outset that this design was deliberate. The focus is on the food.

Ah, the food. We dined on heavenly pork buns. Juicy and tender meat wrapped in soft, pillowy dough garnished with a dollop of hoisin and topped with cucumbers and scallions. Next up, my friend had ginger scallion noodles with shiitake, cucumber and cabbage and I tried the dan dan mein, spicy pork, dry scallops, and peanuts over noodles. I was fascinated by the well-thought-out combinations of flavours and textures. I simply admire the way he creates dishes, building from tradition and adding a simple spin to create blissful works of food art. It’s hardly an overstatement to say that a meal at Momofuku was one of a higher order than any I’d ever had before and one the best I’ve had in my life.

Chef Chang and my buddy’s mom have much in common. They both have a passion and commitment to bring joy and comfort to their people through food. They both inadvertently inspire. And they both do it without a cookware line. That’s admirable.