Earth Restaurant

When it comes to new restaurateurs, Ed Ho is a reigning King; or he has a horseshoe up his you know what. Everything the man touches turns to gold. A novice at the time, he transformed Cafe Brussels into an epic food experience at Globe; then he took a non-descript corner in Rosedale, one that hasn’t seen real success since the 1980s, and made it a dining destination with Globe Earth.

But unfortunately Midas seems to have lost his touch. Ho’s expansion of Globe Earth in the tony Bloor West Village is certainly epic in scale. But the massive multi-level 18,000 square foot space is so dark, you’re not sure if you’ve come to dine or go spelunking. One server claims Earth can fit up to 600 (we’ve even heard over 700), including a rooftop patio and private dining rooms.

But if the talented Brad Long couldn’t make it there with My Place: A Canadian Pubspace, notwithstanding the stupid name, what makes Ho think he can? His track record, for one.

Here, too, Ho has honed in on the rustic, with reclaimed barnyard boards in a sea of dimly lit blacks. But unlike his other locations that envelop you in cozy warmth, his western outpost just feels like a large banquet hall. Sure, they’ve been open barely weeks, and I am certain some décor ideas need to be ironed out, especially the bathrooms. But that’s no excuse for exec chef Kevin McKenna who has had lots of practice with a menu that’s practically identical to the Rosedale location. Added patience here is not only undeserved but unfair to locavores on the hunt for his seasonal gems.

McKenna has wowed before. So it’s hard to reconcile the fact that the same chef responsible for the most stellar elk tartare ($12) in town groups his pig bits ($6), a wonderful country terrine and a silky smooth creton, with deep fried pork rinds that could easily damage your dental work. On the other hand, PEI mussels ($6) a la McKenna are so fantastic in their originality and plentiful for the price, you’ll be tempted to order two. This philistine, who ordinarily snubs his nose at any broth other than white wine, garlic and shallots for his mollusks, thank-you-very-much, is now in awe of a simmering soup of cider, pancetta and tarragon that you’ll greedily slurp up with a spoon or sop up with some freshly made buttermilk biscuits (gratis, no less!)

The carnivore flatbread ($12) sports a spicy yet typical topping of merguez and chorizo sausage, with a smattering of cured bresaola and Guernsey girl cheese. Something as predictable, failsafe and damn tasty as this is sometimes all that’s needed to fill the gap between appetizers and mains. But by the time our mains do start arrive, we are practically fully digested.

Not less than 45 minutes passes before being told our dishes are just about out. What’s the hold up? A soufflé? Would you believe a rib eye burger ($18) from Wellington county, with house pepper relish, bacon and curds. We’re told that it takes 20 minutes to cook through to a medium rare; that should give you some indication of how thick this slab of meat is. Yet it’s served totally blue. Even raw it’s delicious, but that’s not the point. It goes back and is graciously removed from our bill.

It’s clear that there is some chaos going on in the kitchen and we’re caught in the crossfire. But an astute manager softens the blow. Then a county lamb ($24), done sous vide, with celeriac purée, fava beans and Waupoos gastrique, arrives barely warm. Worse, upon ordering, our server-in-training informs us it is a solid filet. So imagine the shock when orts of lamb stuffing spill out, much like what a mother bird might regurgitate for her chicks. And yes the added wait for this entrée made it all the more unsettling. By now, the aiming-to-please floor manager offers to comp our entire bill; we won’t have it for obvious reasons, but hats off for trying to take the appropriate action.

Gestures like this should never go unnoticed. Unlike the dessert, which should. A smoked vanilla panna cotta ($7) with Niagara cherry & blueberry jam might pack the perfect jiggle but it chokes with a cloying richness. And a candied pistachio and maple brioche doughnut ($7), with Saskatchewan rock salt caramel and spiced carrot ice cream, is so dense, it, too, is barely edible. What happened to your original flawless recipe for beignets?

It’s normal for any new restaurant to experience glitches soon after opening, especially one where the exec chef is being stretched over three locations. But Ho, you’ve spoiled us and made us come to expect the best. Your winning streak may have come to an end, but I’m praying your kitchen and wait staff find their groove soon. Just don’t take too long. Not everyone will be so forgiving.

P.S The Summerlicious restaurants have been revealed. 150 places will start accepting reservations on June 23 (Amex holders get to pick from the 21st). The festival runs July 8 to 24.