Restaurants Archives - Mom's Guide To Travel

This is a snippet of my article that first appeared here on my column on the Examiner.com.

Last night I came home with leftovers from my media dinner at Vivo Italian Kitchen. The generous wife that I am, I sent my husband a message that he could have my shrimp and lobster meal if he wanted. I regret it. I can’t help but daydream about that dish.

If you’re in the Arundel Mills area, whether for gambling, business, or shopping, take a detour to the Arundel Hotel. On the SouthEast corner, bottom floor, sits Vivo Italian Kitchen.

Listen, this isn’t your local Olive Garden or Macaroni Grill.

Let me tell you what not to expect:

“Endless” bread
“Bottomless” drinks
Mushy pasta
Cheap wine

If that’s what you want, drive two minutes down the road and you can find it. What you’ll get at owner George Korten’s restaurant, is a mid-range eatery, not too upscale, not sweat pants-casual but comfortable. Comfortable like what you’d wear at a nontraditional non-denomination church that promotes “come as you are” (within reason).

Cheeses like the taleggio, provolone and gorgonzola are rich and matched well with my glass of wine – a nice blend of Syrah, Ganache, and Merlot. My entree, the lobster and shrimp bucatini that I gifted to my husband, was rich and deliciously dense. Although I ordered an individual serving, having had the appetizers, wine, and bread, it was enough for two.

The bucatini was weighty and substantial – the perfect soaking agent for a decadent cream sauce. Don’t expect five pieces of lobster and shrimp – the portion was generous.

Vivo Italian’s open kitchen setting adds to the restaurant’s lively atmosphere.

Take a peak inside and you’ll see the brick-oven stove fired up to make its’ next crispy crust pizza. The fresh mozzarella on our margherita complemented the other ingredients well. Thankfully, not salty and the perfect elasticity.

Check out this slide show of dishes.

All of Vivo’s house-made pastas, except for the gnocchi which is handmade, are crafted on an imported, super-charged machine. Their paper thin prosciutto slides gracefully down the razor sharp blades of the resident slicing machine. And the industrial mixer stands authoritatively on the floor, waiting to whip up its’ next batch of batter for moist pastry items like the olive oil cake.

Hopefully the area will continue to embrace Vivo Italian. Long live good Italian food!

Toronto is a city after my own heart. Walking around its’ streets feels like being at home in New York in many ways. Three weeks ago I was tearing up the streets (and my sandals), exploring and discovering a more cosmopolitan populace from what I remembered as a child, when I first visited twenty years ago. I certainly didn’t know anything about Toronto Chinatown.

Chinese Stand — All signs in Chinatown are written in Chinese but only some are written in both languages.

Not much looked the same to be quite honest – all I can remember from my previous visit was hanging out in a big mall. The Toronto of today is filled with construction and skyscrapers, an oddly familiar feel to Manhattan but with a slight European flair.

I stayed at a standard hotel chain, the Hilton Garden Inn. Although I didn’t travel with the kids, and aside from the club next door, the hotel was family-friendly (double queen bed rooms, on-site restaurant, pool, gym, warm cookies, central location) and affordable. More importantly, it was an easy seven-minute walk from the convention center, where I attended a travel blogger conference. The sounds and smells of King and Peter Street, the route I took to get to my daily destination, were energizing and tempting. There’s no shortage of coffee shops or restaurants to poke your nose in on that route.

Starving and equipped with my handy Toronto guide, freshly plucked from the tourism board’s desk at baggage claim, I was determined to find one of the many restaurants mentioned in its’ pages. My first stop was Chinatown.

Street singer Josephine lights up the streets with her jolly spirit and soulful voice.

Apparently Toronto has six or seven Chinatowns. Colorful, loud, dense, congested, the Chinatown off of Spadina Ave was everything I thought it would be, and more.

Toronto Chinatown — Ducks ready for slicing

As I walked semi-aimlessly, I really took in my surroundings. I felt like this could’ve easily been somewhere in Asia. The excitement of it all gave me goosebumps and formed an idea: maybe China needs to move up into my top 10 list.

Chinese Fruit — I’ve seen Andrew Zimmern on the Travel Channel give this fruit a try.

In the meantime, I stopped at a Chinese bakery that sold all types of pastries and things I’d never seen before. However my famished adventurous spirit would only allow me to purchase a cinnamon roll until I found something of greater substance that I recognized.

BlackEggs — Sorry, no thank you – these eggs just don’t look right.

Within 10 minutes of my walk, I passed two restaurants mentioned in the Toronto book but something else kept me walking. This is what I know: Once you start walking, if you’re a true explorer, no matter what guide book you have, your senses and the universe will lead you to where you’re supposed to be. Always remain open and honor that.

Rambutan Fruit — Exotic fruits at a Chinatown produce store.

So I did – and I was handsomely repaid. I stumbled at a hole-in-the-wall spot called Swatow. The front is unassuming but what pulled me in were the affiliation stickers from companies like Zagat, Yelp, Foursquare, Toronto Eats, a sign for me that “somebody” liked this place and it would be safe for my system. The newspaper clippings that lined the windows gave me an idea of where my taste buds should travel along the menu – my low-sugar brain, grateful. After blocks of indecisiveness and hunger, I knew this was where I was supposed to be.

Swatow’s dining area is just as unassuming as the exterior. I appreciate clean, non-fussy places when I’m hungry and dining on my own. For me, it’s reassurance that more emphasis is placed on what really matters, the food.

Soup Chef — Swatow’s soup and noodle chef working magic, quickly.

Sitting at a table, close to the soup and noodle chef at the front of the house, allowed me to watch his deft orchestration. He worked quickly and efficiently, everything my stomach needed at that moment. My order of of shrimp wonton soup, sans noodles, came to the table in a matter of minutes. In addition, I ordered the special house fried noodles, as was suggested in several of the newspaper clippings on the front window. Ultimately, it was way too much food for the average female to consume in one sitting, so I had the pleasure of enjoying my meal on another occasion.

Fried Noodles — A plate full of delicious hot flavorful Swatow noodles.

If I had the time, I would have ate my way through Chinatown. This is a neighborhood where you can spend a day observing, exploring, tasting and testing. Three hours was not enough time but for this trip, it would have to do. Chinatown in Toronto is a chapter to be continued…

STAY: Hilton Garden Inn on Peter Street
EAT: Swatow Restaurant in Chinatown
DO: Explore Chinatown

Long Live Good Italian Food! Eat Well At Vivo Italian Kitchen

Toronto: Discovery And Chowdown In Toronto Chinatown

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