Restaurant: Chilcotin 16
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆
Location: Lower East Campus in the Townhouse District
Appetizer: Eastern fusion noodles with chicken flavour
Entrée: Crusted Pork with winter vegetables
Dessert: House cheesecake
I would like to precede this review by assuring all readers I speak with the utmost sincerity when delivering the following statement: the recently opened restaurant in the Townhouse District known as Chilcotin 16 is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the absolute worst dining establishment I have ever come across in my entire career.
This past Sunday, I had the extreme displeasure of dining at Chilcotin 16 while the residents were away for winter break. Due to its location, the restaurant has built the reputation of an “exclusive” and “underground” establishment open 15 days a year with a three-contact requirement for entry. However, it is of my highly educated opinion that this “restaurant” is open 15 days too many and having three friends who willingly recommend Chilcotin 16 to you means you’re keeping dreadful company.
The meal began with an “Eastern fusion” soup noodle appetizer with two options: “vegetable flavour” or “chicken flavour.” Upon receiving the dish, it became clear to me the restaurant was unable to call what they were serving me actual ramen. Instead, I was being served a North American excuse for substandard food known as “fusion.” I sipped the broth once to my disgust, and a second time to confirm my disgust. The noodles were a stuck together mass of overheated plastic and I thankfully needed only one noodle to confirm my suspicion.
Next, the nightmare known as the entrée. An applesauce glazed pork with brie and pecan accents, served alongside roasted asparagus and oven baked vegetables. This is what the menu promised. What was served, however, was an overcooked, cold cut of pork drenched in store-bought applesauce and dressed up with a forgettable brie. The “roasted” asparagus had spent a considerably larger amount of time in the steamer than on any pan and the oven baked vegetables were reduced to an absolute pile of charcoal. The entrée did not make any recovery for the appetizer to say the least.
A single gaze at the “house cheesecake” had me in absolute disgust. Every thread of self-respect in my body — which comes in multitudes — begged me not to take a bite. But above a raccoon, I am a food critic. My (sometimes, woeful) duty as such is to honourably report on all restaurants presented to me and to try every dish served to me. I took one bite then immediately left Chilcotin 16. My dining experience was concluded, and my night completely ruined.
I would like to make it clear to all readers that anyone who falls for the predatory marketing scheme of dining “social exclusivity” is as unsophisticated as they are foolish. Chilcotin 16’s excuse for novelty is nothing more than a malignant charade to mask the dull inedible pile of mass they call a menu. I give the restaurant one star only because while the dining made me want to claw my tongue out, the interior design did not make me want to also claw out my eyes.
