Can a sports bar be fit for a queen?
The Anne Boleyn (out of 4) Address: 117 Peter St. (at Richmond St. W.), 416-901-1536, theanneboleyn.ca Chef: Brent Pierssens Hours: Monday to Friday, 11 a.m. to 2 a.m.; Saturday and Sunday, 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. Reservations: Yes Wheelchair access: Yes Price: Dinner for two with beer, tax and tip: $75
Divorced, beheaded, died. Divorced, beheaded, survived.
So goes the roll call of King Henry VIII’s six wives, a mnemonic I used this month while on the job.
That’s because of the Anne Boleyn pub.
The real Anne Boleyn was wife No. 2, beheaded in 1536 for failing to give Henry a son. The story of the tragic English queen is behind dozens of books, operas, plays, popular songs and movies.
And now, Anne Boleyn is the inspiration for a classy new Toronto sports bar.
“She was a strong character, a powerful woman, intelligent,” co-owner Richard Lambert says of the name choice.
Lambert and Jesse Girard (Parts & Labour, the Dog & Bear) opened the Anne Boleyn on Aug. 17.
She graces the facade in an enlargement of her well-known portrait, the one where she wears a sly smile and the famous pearl-drop B necklace.
The ground-floor condo location, say the owners, is meant to build community amongst residents new to the Entertainment District.
The room is handsome and highceilinged, with antique prints on the green panelled walls; it looks like Berners Tavern in London, just with giant TV screens showing hockey and football games. Designer Lisa Ho also installed brass tables, blue velvet bar stools and oversize globe fixtures in the main room. A tempting booklined eating nook lies off to one side, free of screens.
But once past the decor, the so-so English fare and inexperienced service make this Anne Boleyn less fascinating than its namesake. The menu by Parts & Labour alum Brent Pierssens is supposed to be a “modern take on traditional British pub fare,” with North American sports bar staples such as chicken wings and nachos thrown in.
The kitchen tries harder than the Firkin pub around the corner, baking decent scones ($6) for brunch and curing its own corned beef. But the payoff isn’t always there.
Take the soups. French onion ($7) is more bread than anything. Beef barley ($7) includes whole pearl onions, an unpleasant addition whose texture calls to mind the tapioca spheres in Asian bubble tea.
The Caesar salad ($10) is anemic, the fries are too salty and the Reuben sandwich ($18) has so much Gruyère it resembles a grilled cheese with benefits. I’d enjoy the burger ($18) much more if the candy-sweet onion jam were applied with less vigour.
It pays to stick to the traditional British choices, such as the Scotch egg ($7) wrapped in lovely thyme-flecked sausage made on site.
The sausage reappears as one of eight elements in the full English breakfast ($17), served all day. This isn’t the platonic ideal of fry-ups — without black pudding or bread fried in dripping, how could it be? — but makes a fine meal nonetheless, especially when chased with a killer bloody Caesar ($9).
For dessert (all $10), I say “nice work” with the raspberry trifle, the orange-zested sticky toffee pudding and the unexpectedly delicious vegan chocolate mousse. But the banoffee pie is woefully short on toffee (dulce de leche in this case) in a stale tasting graham cracker crust.
Service is sweet, but clueless. Cocktails arrive at the same time as the food. One server brings out food to the wrong diners. “Not ours,” they say. She looks confused and tries another table. Also not theirs. Turns out the third one is the charm. And this during a slow lunch.
Back to history. Lambert, the restaurant’s British co-owner, is a fan of the Tudor era. He’s even read up on what the real Anne Boleyn ate during her short time as queen.
“They didn’t eat a lot back then except meat and wine,” Lambert says.
This is somewhat backed up by Richard Fitch, who runs the historic kitchens in Hampton Court Palace, one of Henry VIII’s residences.
Fitch says by the 16th century, regular folk could afford meat as wages rose, prices fell and availability increased. Meat lost its cachet as a status food as wealthy diners switched to fowl or game.
“Meat as part of the court diet continued in importance due to tradition. It had become synonymous with ‘status’ dining,” writes Fitch from England.
But Anne Boleyn the sports bar? Not a dining experience worth losing your head over. apataki@thestar.ca, @amypataki