Restaurant review: Dining with The Donald at Stock
23.05.12
I dreamed last night that Air Canada and WestJet refused to fly me home to Toronto because I was shoeless. Rescued by wonder woman Heather Austin-Gibbons of the Barbados Tourist Authority, I am now splashing in the surf wondering how I can apply for refugee status.
No such luck. I wake in Toronto, shivering. It’s cold and I have work to do: a review of Stock, the restaurant in the recently opened Trump International Hotel and Tower that looms 65 storeys above Bay and Adelaide.
The hotel is black and white throughout, clad in marble, and projects the subdued piety of a funeral parlour. At first I walk by the hotel entrance, mistaking it for a loading dock. Then I spot a revolving door in the corner. A pleasant but understandably sombre greeter guides me to the elevator, even presses the button for the 31st floor. It strikes me as odd that the only part of Stock that has a view, which must be impressive, is the bar. The rest of the L-shaped room is windowless. My companion and I have to shout across the table. “What did you say?” I yell. “Where’s the dominatrix?” my companion yells back, indicating the decor, black and white with violent purple streaks of light on the walls.
Source: National Post