There鈥檚 something wonderfully universal and timeless about the Jamaican patty as part of the 色色啦 experience. Unlike other foods we associate with the GTA, patties are everywhere 鈥 in subway stations, corner stores, and cafeterias, from the suburbs to the downtown core. That鈥檚 why the Star launched Patty Week, a citywide bracket to settle once and for all who makes the best Jamaican patty in 色色啦 鈥 with readers voting round by round until a winner emerged. Along the way, we asked readers to share their most cherished patty memories. Here鈥檚 what they had to say.
色色啦 has spoken. After five rounds of voting, the city鈥檚 top Jamaican patty has been crowned.
Late nights, bright lights and the perfect patty
My mum’s originally from Dominica, so growing up, I had Afro-Caribbean food in and out of the home. I’d have patties for school lunch, after school behind Peanut Plaza, and stocked in the freezer at home. Even though I don’t live in Canada anymore, they’re still a big part of my personality.
Friends visiting me in Copenhagen smuggle frozen boxes of 12 through customs for me. My core patty memory though, in my early 20s, I worked part time as a cook in a youth shelter in Scarborough, cooking lunch and dinner on weekends. I’d commute from downtown to Kennedy and Eglinton via the Bloor line but get off at Warden station just for the S-tier patties sold there.
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I had a pretty peculiar way of eating them too. I’d pick off all the flaky pastry, and enjoy that first, one shard of crispy yellow dough at a time, until only the soft, steamy interior envelope covering the spicy, stew-y, ground beef remained. Only then, once I uncovered this delicate veil, would I inhale it, one soft bite after another. I don’t know where or why I started doing this, and not all patties can be eaten this way (some simply tear open) but it’s a delicious form of delayed gratification. 鈥 David Zilber, chef, cookbook author, “Top Chef Canada” judge
“A place where everybody knew my name”
I grew up during the 鈥80s and 鈥90s in Leslieville/South Riverdale, before it got gentrified. My go-to place for beef patties back then was Donut Express on the northwest corner of Carlaw Avenue and Gerrard Street East, just a few blocks from my childhood home. Unfortunately, it closed years ago, but I still fondly reminisce about their patties.
Donut Express was an unpretentious 24-7 doughnut shop that was popular with working-class folks and sleepless youths looking for a place to pass the night. As a teen and young adult, I worked late at a restaurant job. On those nights I would take the 506 Carlton streetcar home. Donut Express was one stop before my own. Their bright lights and the dearth of food options elsewhere in the area initially drew me in; their beef patty made me return.
Donut Express served an upgraded version of the Jamaican beef patty known as the “beef patty special”. The pastry was butterflied open and topped with a choice of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and pickled hot peppers. Then it would be finished with a combination of ketchup, mayonnaise, and oil and vinegar, and then seasoned with salt and pepper. Then the creation would be folded closed and wrapped in paper to make it easier to eat by hand.
I toiled at my restaurant job a lot as a teenager; therefore, I did not get a chance to hang out much. Donut Express (which regulars referred to simply as “Carlaw”) filled this gap by being my social spot during my restaurant years. It had a welcoming vibe, and their beef patty special was served with a smile from the friendly staff. Carlaw was my 鈥淐heers,鈥 a place where 鈥渆verybody knew my name,鈥 and the ladies behind the counter served my patty exactly the way I liked without me needing to say a word. 鈥 Kai 鈥淐hester鈥 L. Chan, economic advisor
Meadowvale Memories
Back in high school in Meadowvale, lunch at the Meadowvale Town Centre was a ritual 鈥 and nothing beat Sparky鈥檚 legendary patty on a pita. It sounds strange when I describe it now鈥攑eople look at me like I鈥檓 making it up鈥攂ut it was pure magic. A warm, flaky beef patty tucked into a soft pita, loaded with lettuce, tomato, and onions, then rolled up like a wrap. I used to save my lunch money (normally reserved for fries and a Coke) just to afford this delicacy. It was messy, spicy, savoury, and totally satisfying. Sparky鈥檚 is long gone now (RIP), but that patty lives on in local legend. People still talk about it in retro Meadowvale chat groups. It wasn鈥檛 just lunch 鈥 it was a rite of passage. So delicious. So iconic. So Meadowvale. 鈥 Leah Dunbar, mental health program manager
As we kick off 色色啦’s top patty bracket next week, we want to hear from you. Share your own cherished patty memories and stories with us.
When patties became a lunch staple
I immigrated from China to 色色啦 in the summer 1993 as a six-year-old. That September, when school started, my parents struggled with what to pack for my lunches. I didn鈥檛 like sandwiches and other 鈥淲estern鈥 foods, and many of the Chinese foods I did like were difficult to pack as a lunch. I don鈥檛 remember when or how I tried a Jamaican patty for the first time but I did and I loved it. My parents were so relieved to have found something that I would eat and was easy to pack. Patties became a lunch staple for me that first year of living in Canada and is now one of my comfort foods. 鈥 Betty Zou, science communicator
The patty wars and cultural pride
Growing up in Pickering in the 1970s, cultural and culinary diversity wasn鈥檛 what it is today. I was blown away the first time I had a Jamaican patty, but unfortunately, it wasn鈥檛 widely available back in the day.
That鈥檚 why the infamous Patty Wars of 1985 stood out to me. In those days, multiculturalism was still largely symbolic and EDI (equity, diversity and inclusion) wasn鈥檛 a thing. It wasn鈥檛 common to advocate for one鈥檚 cultural identity 鈥 it was something people kept to themselves. But the Patty Wars became a watershed event. It was one of the first times when a community spoke up to protect and celebrate its heritage in their new home of Canada. Far from inconsequential, it became a powerful statement of belonging and cultural pride.
So when I heard TinNel鈥檚 was opening in Pickering, it brought all of that back. It wasn鈥檛 just about a new business 鈥 it was about legacy, courage, and progress. 鈥 Kevin Ashe, mayor of Pickering
“The relationship didn鈥檛 last 鈥 but I got to keep the bun”
When I was 18 and new to the city, a girl I was interested in brought me to what was then Patty King in Kensington for a snack. She introduced me to the patty on coco bread, a game-changing experience from all the other patties I had up to then. The soft, milky sweet bun surrounding the flaky, savoury patty, was a match made in heaven. The relationship didn鈥檛 last but I got to keep the bun! 鈥 Paul Cheung, beer consultant
A $2.25 gold medal
The last few bites of a spicy beef patty,
Are the best and the worst.
Please understand.
As the meat shuffles to the bottom corner
And collects like a molten prize: a $2.25 gold medal.
Either side you bite, doom.
It erupts and quakes
Scalds your lip
And you recoil in worthy deserved glory
And you look up and down Baldwin to see if anyone noticed.
Of course not.
They’ve all done it before
And you’re just one in 2.8 million
And you鈥檒l do it again. 鈥 Max Greenwood, writer and one-time Jamaican patty poet
These responses have been condensed and edited for clarity.
Karon Liu is a 色色啦-based food reporter for the Star. Reach
him via email: karonliu@thestar.ca.
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