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Independent guide The Castle Supper Notebook is an independent food and dining guide, not affiliated with any dinner theatre or its operator. We do not sell tickets and never process payments.
The Castle Supper Notebook A dietitian's field notes on the Dufferin Street castle banquet

Chapter 1 · the food

The menu, course by course

You are eating a six-move banquet in a dark room while two riders charge each other on sand twenty feet away. The food is engineered for exactly that. Hot-line durability, one-handed geometry, no cutlery, no plating theatre. Reasonable, hearty, not refined. Here is each course and what to expect.

Bread + garlic butter

A soft round of white bread arrives before the lights drop. One per cover. If you keep going on the butter you will not have room for the chicken. The bread is also the single most useful utensil you get all night — use it to catch bisque drip, use it to wipe fingers between the chicken and the rib, use it as a flat surface for the potato.

Dietitian trick: keep half the bread for after the chicken. It is the only “palate reset” you’ll see all evening.

Tomato bisque — cup, no spoon

Served in a shallow metal cup. You drink it. There is no spoon. It arrives hot, slightly sweet, salted to travel, and thickened enough to hold its shape as the server walks a full tray through a cheering section. If it tastes a little flat, that is the hot-line working: a bisque that was perfect in a chef’s mouth on a quiet pass would taste over-salted by the time it reached table forty.

A tomato bisque served in a shallow cup — the castle banquet uses the same no-spoon geometry so you drink it one-handed between fights.
A tomato bisque served in a shallow cup — the castle banquet uses the same no-spoon geometry so you drink it one-handed between fights. Photograph via Wikimedia Commons · from Wikimedia Commons · see file history for photographer and licence. Format reference; not a photograph of the Dufferin Street building.

Half roasted chicken

The main of the night, by weight. Half a bird per adult cover, roasted and held under heat lamps until the course call. The skin varies: at the edge of the table block closest to the kitchen it is crisp; at the far end of the room it is a little steamed. Both are fine, neither is a kitchen failure — that is what high-volume plated service looks like at an arena.

You pull the chicken apart with your hands. No knife. The joint between leg and thigh is where you start. Napkins matter more than you think. If you brought a damp wipe in your pocket, this is the course it earns its spot.

Pork rib (sweet-smoky)

One meaty rib bone per cover, glazed. The glaze is on the sweeter side — think barbecue sauce, not a wet brine. The rib hits the plate quickly after the chicken, so the full plate looks like a lot of protein; most adults eat the chicken fully and the rib partially. Boxing up what you don’t finish is not a cultural fit here — the staff cannot box food during the live tournament. Finish what you can.

Allergy note: the glaze on the rib typically contains tomato, cane sugar, and brown sugar. Full allergen details and swap requests are covered on Kids & Allergies.

Roast potato

Herb-roasted wedge or quarter-rounds depending on the night. The potato is where the kitchen can rescue a hungry table — ask your server for a top-up during the first big joust and you will get one if the service is going well. On a busy Saturday, do not expect it.

Herb-roasted potato wedges — the castle’s side course and the easiest thing on the plate to request a second portion of.
Herb-roasted potato wedges — the castle’s side course and the easiest thing on the plate to request a second portion of. Photograph via Wikimedia Commons · from Wikimedia Commons · see file history for photographer and licence.

Dessert — sweet pastry + coffee

A single sweet pastry (varies by season), served with coffee or tea. This is the course where the room comes down — the last fight has resolved, the house lights come up a notch, the kitchen is clearing. The coffee is simple drip. The pastry is sweeter than it needs to be, which is appropriate: you have been shouting for ninety minutes.

Pacing, in one paragraph

Bread lands as you sit. Bisque arrives before the horn. Chicken and rib hit the table in the first big break between tournament blocks. Potato follows almost immediately. Dessert and coffee land during the final procession. Count on about ninety minutes from bread to coffee, and about thirty minutes before and after that for lobby, photo stops, and the slow drift to the Dufferin Loop.