"Never judge a book by its cover," was a life lesson learned from my mom. These words ring in my ears as I stand in front of an unassuming red brick office building on King Street West. An unpretentious sign, Cassius, over the heavy glass door, tells me that I am in the right place. Up a few steps and—Wow! —I feel like Alice did when she stumbled through the looking glass into another world.
Chrome, mirror, marble, with spacious curved banquets and a marble raised fashion runway stretches along the length of the room between the handsome bar and the dining tables. But wait, there is a ring of familiarity here—West Hollywood—where restaurants change their personalities after ten and become clubby with entertainment, music and fun. Under-scoring the room's personality, fashion-model-tall-servers are dressed in (is the word sexy, sexist?) leopard print mini dresses, and are well versed in confident, polite server-speak.
Decor or Kitchen, what will the focus be here? Being judgy again, I wonder if within all this glitz and glamour there is a backbone of a kitchen with merit? Can there be anything new and innovative in a menu that offers Italian cuisine in Toronto?
After a few dishes, I humbly and happily admit that I was wrong, wrong, wrong. There is a culinary rock-star in the kitchen, and his name is Michael Frigo.
My espresso martini floats a star anise rather than the classic trio of coffee beans, and there are more hints at subtle bending of the rules. The menu is a well-edited roster. It begins, Tomato Soup with Burrata, and this fantasy arrives in a soup bowl inscribed with the words, Unreal Foreal. A juicy tomato, cut in sections, is set in a pool of clear tomato broth, festooned with snipped-basil and croutons, and crowned with a fresh Burrata Cheese the size of a softball. We're sharing, and attacking this bowl of fresh natural goodness with spoon, fork and knife.
Insalata Amaro, a bowl of crisp red endive rarely seen hereabouts, is strewn with anchovies, peanuts and sourdough croutons, showered with a handful of grated ubriaco cheese and glissed with a drizzle of Chardonnay dressing. Knife-and-fork manners are tossed to the winds. I pick up each crunchy leaf with my fingers and munch away happily.
Our third starter is a vision that brings a flutter of joy to my heart. Zucchini blossoms, in season this month, still carrying the scent of freshness from the vine, are filled with light puffs of tasty fish. An ethereal foam blanket seemingly protects these delicate blossoms enroute from kitchen to table. Not since a past lunch at a Michelin Star restaurant in Treviso, Italy have I seen the like.
I am excited to meet the culinary artist at the heart of Cassius, Michael Frigo. He tells me that he grew up in Bolzano. I have visited this delightful city. It is the capital of South Tyrol at the foot of the Dolomite mountain range where Mediterranean and Alpine meet and its distinctly eclectic cuisine has evolved naturally. Frigo trained in Venice at one of the many schools in the region, then honed his talent as he cooked his way around the world. Lucky for us that this brilliant chef has landed in Toronto.
Main courses bring more surprises. Lamb striploin, partnered with eggplant, pickled leek, enhanced with romesco sauce and chimichurri deserves more accolades than cliches like tender and succulent. I am at a loss for words. Almost. What have they done to prepare a lamb striploin to such an ambrosial finish? This chef has secrets, and one of them, I daresay, is time. You cannot rush a lamb striploin through the kitchen. Dishes like what I have enjoyed this evening do not happen with quick cooking. Time, patience and a passion for perfection; a desire to make everything the best it can be, is obvious in each presentation.
The plate of roasted potatoes, for example, is a mixed assortment of potatoes; some baby spuds, some cut in squares from larger ones; each bite-sized morsel is evenly, crisply roasted and delicious. Simple potatoes elevated to celebrity. I am not a great fan of rapini, (but I am not dining alone) and Rapini Aglio e Olio and pepperoncino does have a nice ring to it, and, made with a canny hand, is surprisingly pleasing.
We've come for an early seating, and now the room is beginning to fill. Aha, so this is where all the beautiful people are this evening. Reactions mirror mine: admiration; where to look first; which wonderful seating area to choose. The long bar is enticing, and always a favorite perch. Later, when Cassius changes its personality and becomes a Supper Club there will be entertainment. I will need to return to assuage my curiosity and see what takes place on this splendid marble runway. Would it be dance, fashion, acrobatics, vocalists, or all of the above? At Cassius, the evening doesn't end with a whisper, but with a bang!
Menu Del Dolci still offers Tiramisu, which has gone the way of the hula hoop. But I will forgive, because of the semifreddo Rocher slice, with its hazelnut semifreddo, gianduja mousse, wafer, all sporting slices of a selection of Valrhona chocolate. Be still my heart, each bite is magical. On the lighter side, Meringata, an Italian meringue, filled with whipped yogurt, blackberries and wild berry coulis, has an unexpected kick of Sichuan pepper—as befits the last item in a menu of surprises. It is a rare find indeed when a chef is a risk-taker, and with just the right amount of cleverness, can turn classic Italian dishes into Cucina Contemporanea.
In every aspect, owners Pat Lisi and Bruno Commodari have captured the zeitgeist of the moment in Toronto: more and more is better and better.
Cassius Cucina Contemporanea - 416-777-9779 - 624 King Street West