You bring the wine I’ll bring the free dinner
Chez Lisgar offering up a gourmet meal in exchange for some libations
A new restaurant has hit Toronto that takes communal dining to the next level: a stranger’s kitchen.
It’s called Chez Lisgar, but for roommates Nadya Khoja and Sarah Lee it’s also called home.
The Queen West friends, both 24, have opened their doors to Facebook strangers from the bartering group Bunz Trading Zone, offering home-cooked dinners at no cost. All they ask is that guests bring enough wine and beer for the table.
“It’s this idea of people getting a chance to eat a nice gourmet meal without having to pay an arm and a leg,” says Lee.
Chez Lisgar, not a genuine industry restaurant, is part of a booming sharing economy that includes popular companies like the ride-booking Uber and the room-sharing Airbnb. Their kitchen is open once a week for small groups of strangers who reserve their spot online. So far the roommates have seated four parties, including one Star reporter.
On the second Friday of Chez Lisgar dinners late in February, Farheen Ismail, a 25-year-old nursing student at Queen’s University, and Rahim Lakhani, a 27-year-old engineer, arrive from Oshawa. It’s not their first experience through Bunz, but they haven’t had one quite like this yet.
“We care more about the company, and the people we get to meet, and the stories we gain, than how much alcohol we can get out of it.” NADYA KHOJA ON RUNNING CHEZ LISGAR WITH ROOMMATE SARAH LEE
“I’ve gone to people’s houses for getting stuff or giving stuff, but I’ve never actually sat down and had a meal with them,” says Lakhani, a sharing economy enthusiast.
He owns three condo units downtown that he puts up on Airbnb for extra cash. He has hired cleaners through a Bunz employment group, one of the rare instances in the Bunz world — founded on cashless bartering — where money is an accepted form of payment, he says.
On the menu for their visit: ricotta and spinach stuffed chicken breast with grated carrot coleslaw and potatoes, and a tiramisu biscuit pudding.
As the dinner begins, a “Late Night Jazz” Spotify playlist acts as the night’s soundtrack. Much of the conversation centres on the oddity of the evening and the growing Bunz community.
The Trading Zone where Chez Lisgar began was the first of now dozens of Facebook bartering groups (and a mobile app) where users can trade goods and services and refer to each other as “bunz.”
Khoja and Lee decided to start Chez Lisgar (named after their street) after using Bunz for several months, making trades like a small vacuum for tickets to the Ripley’s Aquarium and DVD box sets for homemade wine. When they realized they always had leftovers after cooking a weekly gourmet meal together, Chez Lisgar was born.
Khoja has started an Instagram account and a blog where she’ll review the evening and post selfies the groups take together. Their hope is to tell the stories of how their guests “make it in Toronto,” an increasingly expensive city.
“Some people have full-time jobs, some people are completely broke living in a cubicle of a basement,” she says.
The Chez Lisgar concept has since inspired what Khoja calls a “sister trading restaurant,” run by a friend in Ottawa. While neither are legitimate industry restaurants, “We go all out,” says Khoja, who auditioned for the first season of Master-Chef Cana- da and made it to the second round alongside Anh Nguyen, who runs the sister restaurant. The menu is set ahead of time, catering to any dietary restrictions. So far the roommates have seated four groups of strangers at their kitchen table.
Khoja and Lee aren’t too concerned about who they let into their home, though they’ve been advised by fami- ly to carry a baseball bat and have discussed using a “safe word” if the night turns sour. It is kind of like being on a blind double date.
“It only takes a couple clicks to figure out a person’s life,” says Lee, noting that the Bunz group on Facebook is unsearchable and invite-only. “Even though the group is like 30,000 people strong, it’s a very trustbased community. People tend to really respect one another.”
Whether the guests keep in touch with the Chez Lisgar chefs is beside the point.
At least for one night, the roommates have new friends.
“You don’t realize how much in common you have,” said dinner guest Ismail, who discovered she had dozens of mutual Facebook friends with Khoja.
Now, the roommates are fielding requests for reservations online. But hopeful guests have to work for their place at the table by spotting clues on the Chez Lisgar blog, Twitter and Instagram accounts (as well as Khoja’s personal Twitter feed) about available dates.
They’ve received hundreds of responses this month alone, says Khoja.
That’s a lot of strangers — and a lot of traded alcohol. But meeting new people is the main reason they’ll continue to open their kitchen to strangers, she says.
“We care more about the company, and the people we get to meet, and the stories we gain, than how much alcohol we can get out of it.”