by Joe Mallozzi
Way back when it was at its Cambie Street location, Tomato was on our regular lunch rotation. We always looked forward to Tomato day, partly because of the sandwiches, and partly because it meant that our office assistant, Lawren, would have to deal with the individual who came to be known as “Surly Counter Guy”.
For some reason, whenever Lawren would phone in our order, he would be met with an attitude usually reserved for English-speaking retail shoppers in Paris. “You realize you won’t be able to pick up this order until lunch time, right?”was one particularly memorable reprimand. But in spite of the attitude and the fact that Lawren’s no-mayonnaise-please requests always seemed to fall on deaf ears, we were willing to cut the place some slack because the turkey and cranberry jelly sandwiches on multigrain were that good and, of course, Lawren was our point man and, thus, the only one to suffer Surly Counter Guy’s derision.
It’s felt like ages since I’ve enjoyed Tomato’s trademark sandwich and so, when my wife suggested we have dinner at the new Kits location, I was all in.
We arrived at a little before 7:00 p.m. to a fairly full house. As we took our seats, I had to admire the new digs. The restaurant follows the same red and white motif of its predecessor, but offers the added bonus of a more spacious eating environment accented by actual trees that adorn the dining area. Upon checking the menu, I was disappointed to discover that the turkey sandwich was not available for dinner. Might I prefer something else? Not really. But the pork schnitzel special certainly intrigued. As did the poached pear and candied pecan organic baby salad.
My wife had the misfortune of ordering the rigatoni. Looking at the plate, one couldn’t help but think the cook’s heart was in the right place. It was a healthy portion of rigatoni and chorizo served in a tomato sauce studded with eggplant, artichoke hearts, and oven-roasted tomatoes that tasted as if it had been tossed in an ashtray before serving. What the pasta had done to deserve its sodden, overboiled fate I cannot begin to imagine but I can only assume whoever prepared it harbored some sort of grudge.
The pork schnitzel was golden-fried to tender perfection but, unfortunately, suffered from a lack of any discernible seasoning. A bland tomato and mushroom sauce that adorned my side of pasty fettuccine didn’t help. On the other hand, the asparagus that accompanied the schnitzel was fragrant and fork-friendly.
The spinach salad – an appetizer that I opted to have as a side with my main – was another game effort. Good baby spinach and tasty candied pecans tossed in an inconspicuous port dressing, topped with a passable goat cheese round and flanked by flabby pieces of pear, whatever flavor they once possessed reduced to the faintest of whispers.
No complaints about the quick, friendly service or the modest price point. Still, in the future, I’ll sooner risk the familiar lunch-time peevishness of Surly Counter Guy than hazard another dinner at Tomato.
