Number 8 and I had dinner here yesterday. We'd heard great things about the wood-fired pizza, but we were let down faster than an ornithopter with a broken wing.
I had trouble finding an appealing pizza on the menu.
I went with the pork option. See those pinkish splotches? Applesauce.
Number 8 picked the more traditional-sounding sausage option, That's Amore. Unfortunately, we both found
our choices to be bland and undercooked. Raw onion bits. No merging of
flavors. Not enough sauce.
Decor was a lot of shiny black lacquer. Felt more like I was sitting in a strip club than a wood-fired pizza place.
The "order and pay first" approach felt weird at dinner, but I suspect if the food was better, nobody would complain about this.
The thing that saves Banzini is the cheesecake. If I were queen of the universe (and you know how I like to dress-up in a toga and crown) these little morsels of ambrosia would be delivered to my table by doves and I would eat them and nothing else while being serenaded by caged sirens and entertained by terpsichorean Orion slave girls.
But, dear readers, please see what the rest of Ottawa has to say:
The food
at Pressed has its own unique personality. When Myers and Briggs popped in for a wild boar sandwich, onlookers say it was after exactly four bites that the ladies threw their psychometric questionnaire out the window, admitting that they are complete and utter frauds.
The food is made with care. But the cynic in me has to ask,
is Pressed trying to be different at the expense of being really truly deep-down good?
Do I want to eat this pickled bean, or am I just doing it to be cool? Would the leathery sweet potato chips be more comforting as familiar shoestring fries? Am I a philistine for asking that out loud?
In my half-dozen visits, the service has ranged between delightfully personal (hello there!) to raggishly grumpy. And is my latte supposed to have gunk in the bottom? A lot has been said about Pressed already. Praise for the eclectic menu
of waffle brunches, sandwiches, dinner plates, fancy coffees and other
beverages. Words like hipster get thrown around rather freely.
And, yeah, the decor is a little value village hipster
chic, but the church-pew and recycled school desk seating is not so
uncomfortable that you can't crank through 10 pages of your novel before
your butt goes numb. And yet, despite my whiny musings, I think Pressed is terrific. It has that certain something, like when you meet a guy and he has a few quirks, like he lives with his mom and has adult-onset acne, but you know he's going to be your boyfriend anyway.
Dear readers, I leave you to judge. Here is what the rest of Ottawa has to say:
All signs point to me hating this place, but I love it. I can't help myself.
It's the best thing ever when you go in the morning, and the hazulnet spelt cookies aren't out on the shelf yet, so you ask for one, but you are warned they are too soft to carry, but you get one anyway, and you put a bite in your mouth, and its warm gooey awesomeness increases your certainty that you aren't just some random Turing test subject:
And the pizza. Oh my (non-existent) god. Never has vegetarian food been so yummy and satisfying. That I love this pizza so much makes me wonder if I should also open my mind to other previously-unthought-of possibilities like lesbian sex and ear candeling (the answers are maybe, and no, never).
The one place where B&Ss breaks down for me is in the breakfast sandwich department. Sorry, but my breakfast sandwiches must include bacon. The crumby croissant stuffed with hard boiled egg does nothing for me.
But, dear readers, please check out what the rest of Ottawa has to say:
Looking for a nice casual meal? Haven't been out for dinner since 1993? This is the place for you.
We were originally headed for Burgers on Main, when our caravan got waylaid by bandits and we had to change course. We took refuge at the Fox and the Feather. It's a pub right? There will be burgers. How bad could it be?
You know that apologetic look some employees get when they know their boss is a dick and they are forced to implement stupid corporate policies? Like no free pop refills? That was our server. Two bacon cheeseburgers, deep-fried pickles, two glasses of coke, two glasses of wine came to 73 dollars including tip. For limp salad. Plastic packets of condiments.
Here is a brief list of things I wish I'd purchased, rather this meal:
But Ana, that doesn't seem so bad, you might be thinking. Ok, ok. Let me tell you about the other patrons.
To our back was a table of men from out-of-town. One guy asked a lot of questions about the food. What's better, the chicken parm or the steak? Dude. Spoiler 1: the waitress won't give you her number no matter what you order. Spoiler 2: they're both going to taste like despair.
To our front was a married couple who had clearly given up. They didn't speak to each other the whole meal. He was on his phone. She fussed with a three-year-old who was wearing her pajamas. Made me wish I'd come in mine.
To our side were a couple of frumpy after-work civil servants showing a lot of cleavage haloed by So. Many. Pearls.
Maybe the upstairs is better. I hear good things about a certain corner table. Maybe there's not so much dark wood and maybe those chunky glass candle holders were too heavy to bring up the steps. Maybe upstairs you don't feel so much like you're in a former Red Lobster or Holiday Inn dining room from the 80s.
Anyways, here's what the rest of Ottawa has to say:
Summerhays has completed their exterior upgrade. It's an improvement, but somehow they still manage to look like a former car dealership.
Don't get me wrong. In no way am I slagging one of my favorite weekend breakfast places. The huevos rancheros has its own level in my personal food pyramid.
Service is good, food is better than you would expect, and the ambiance is comfortable. Patrons range from university students recovering after a night of drinking, blue collar guys on break, and families of all sorts. This is a place you can bring your elderly parent when you spring them from the old folks home, or, if you must, your screaming, greasy children.
Thankfully, Summerhays offers a separate seating area near the bar where you are less likely to run into the elderly or the infantile. You may however see lonely men having a morning drink at the
bar, or if you are luckier, one of yoga-pant clad waitresses taking her
break next to the coffee pots.
Dear readers, I admit I was concerned when I saw Summerhays covered with the blue construction tarp over the summer. Now that the results are unveiled I'm relieved that the essence of the place hasn't changed. And yet, I have to ask, doesn't getting a new haircut make you want to trim the pubes as well?
The spit and polish on the outside is nice, by why not fix the seats held together with duck tape or replace the tire tread art in the dining room?
To really enjoy yourself at 168 Sushi Japan Buffet you must let go of your usual restaurant expectations. Like having one attentive server who looks after your table. Or where you pick a single meal off a menu. Or where shoveling food into your face as fast as possible is considered uncouth.
As my title says, this place isn't a buffet, rather it's an all-you-can-eat deal for a flat rate (23 dollars for dinner at the time of writing). The price includes as many dishes, carbonated drinks and desserts as you think you can finish. Alcoholic beverages are available for purchase.
You order by choosing items off of a picture menu (you may have to request one if it isn't stuck in an office-style inbox at your table) and marking the quantity of each dish you want on a form:
There's a nice balance of sushi/sashimi with other types of meat and noodle dishes (terkyaki, udon, spicy beef, etc). Members of our party who do not eat sushi came away satisfied with the spicy chicken:
Once you've filled out your order form, one of the interchangeable staff will swoop it up and your dishes will begin to appear in random order. Other posters do better justice to rating the sushi, suffice it to say it ranges from sublime to slightly disappointing. Better than mall sushi or Loblaws sushi.
After placing your first order, your challenge becomes the timing and quantity your second (third, forth...) order. How many dishes do I still have coming? How much more can I eat? When do I need to submit my form to avoid any gaps in the conveyor belt of food entering my belly?
I can't end this post without sharing a rumour I overhead in the ladies room during my last visit. Apparently 168 Sushi hired a washed-up set designer best known for getting fired from Lexx to style their interior. I think they got it right. Lots of mirrors and faux-modern light, almost like a trip to Japan, if by Japan you mean Ricky Schroder's Bar Mitzvah hall.
And yes (exaggerated eyeroll) the sticky floors are intentional. I'm embarrassed for you that you had to ask. There might have been a fountain too, I was too busy guarding the number they gave to our party on a mini-post it that I forgot to really absorb and fully appreciate the ambiance when we came in. Let me just say that this wall art would somehow have worked:
Bottom line: good value for money, good variety, good place for groups (even if some don't eat sushi), entertaining experience. The fine people of Ottawa seem to enjoy it too:
