If song writers were to remake popular songs to update them for the 21^st century, I wonder how Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song would change. Could chestnuts still be roasting on an open fire? I can’t remember the last time I’ve had roasted chestnuts, especially not during Christmas. And do families really cook anything over an open fire anymore? The closest foods that come to mind are barbequed meats and pizza, but I guess “tomahawks and pizza cooking on an open fire” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Regrettably, you now have a glimpse of my chaotic inner mind.  

Perhaps it’s a tune that Otto Trattoria will consider remaking for their holidays as their wood burning oven is prominently displayed and coaxes every table to get one of their pies.

I like tasting a chef’s skill with a plainer pizza. We tried the burrata pizza ($24), which was covered with tomato sauce, basil oil, cherry tomatoes, and the cheese. The crust had a lovely soft chewy consistency but would have been better if it weren’t soggy in the centre – unfortunately, there was too much tomato sauce. Still, I liked that the chef broke up the cheese and applied it evenly across the pie so that every bite contained some burrata.

The prosciutto & rucola ($22) takes the basic pizza and tops it with a covering of thinly shaved cured ham and arugula. Strangely the chef cuts the crust before topping the pie, so diners need to saw through the prosciutto with a butter knife, which causes the cheese to slide around. One small change of cutting the pizza after covering it with the meat would help make eating this easier. Messiness aside, the paper-thin crust remains crispy and it’s a flavourful bite as you get the fresh tomato sauce, gooey cheese, salty ham, and peppery arugula.

I’m glad Otto leaves their tomato sauce rather neutral so it’s not overly salty. If anything, it allows you to ask for their chopped green chili oil to scatter over top to give it a light heat.

The chili oil also pairs nicely with the rigatoni Bolognese ($24), cutting through some of the heaviness of the meaty beef and veal and helping to flavour the under seasoned sauce. While the menu notes it’s served with rigatoni, the pasta almost resembles an oversized macaroni that really traps the sauce within the crevices and inside. The dish is simply finished with parmigiano and tastes authentic.

While I was taken aback by the square pasta shape used in the shrimp linguine ($23) – surely, more spaghetti than linguine - I’m glad it was homemade and arrived with a lovely chewiness. The white wine, olive oil, and garlic sauce was thickened with a touch of pasta water, so it clings nicely to the noodles. Along with cherry tomatoes and spinach, the dish is fresh and nicely seasoned. I just wish there was more than four shrimp and that they would be cooked less so they aren’t as rubbery.

Yet, nothing surprised us more than the sheer size of the chicken parmagiana ($31) - just the cutlet resembled a dinner plate and was covered with a gooey cheese. Usually, it's a dish you need to eat quickly or starts to get soft. At Otto's, the thinly butterflied chicken breast was lightly coated in bread crumbs so it held onto the tomato sauce without becoming mushy and the spaghetti cooked al dante remaining chewy to the last bite. Trust me, you need to share this dish or be prepared for leftovers galore.  

I was skeptical whether Otto’s calamari fritti ($18) would be good… it came out so quickly after placing our order. They are likely the frozen variety, but nonetheless lightly battered, crispy, and well seasoned. For those wanting some heat, you’ll find it in the aioli.

The more I think about it, the more I like the sound of “pizza toasting on an open fire”… it has a ring that causes a food lover’s heart to sing. Mr. Bublé, maybe it’s time for another Christmas album?

Osteria Rialto was one big, pleasant surprise. In need of a last-minute reservation to be close to after-dinner festivities, we booked the restaurant based on availability versus reviews. Their menu offers a selection of Italian staples that looked adequate. It’ll likely be a safe but forgettable meal, I thought.

My first bite into the suppli cacio e pepe ($12 for two pieces) and Rialto already brought the arancini to another level by combining it with a mozzarella stick. There was a nice cheese pull to the rice croquette encapsulated by the creamy risotto with a liberal sprinkling of black pepper to balance out the rich bite.  

A decent portion of cheese and meat arrives with the burrata e prosciutto ($25), enough for a taste each for our table of five. The 36-month aged prosciutto had a lovely savoury sweetness against the creamy cheese. And while we didn’t want any bread, they mistakenly provided focaccia ($9) that ended up pairing well with the cheese, the bread salty and fluffy served with a generous dish of olive oil.

The tagliatelle ($27) was surprisingly rich for a meatless sauce. Soft buttery squash was tossed with parmigiano and fried sage, almost melting into the chewy pasta ribbons. The dish is a hearty vegetarian alternative for the winter.

I preferred the squash pasta to the rigatoni ($28), which was a touch dry. While I liked the hint of heat in the sugo, the lamb tasted more like sausage, so the dish was too salty and greasy.

While the chicken in the pollo ai funghi ($34) could be cooked less, the thin cutlets were at least crispy and flavourful slathered in a creamy mushroom and black truffle gravy. If only Osteria Rialto offered rice as a side, the grains would soak up the delicious sauce so well.

It was difficult to decipher the background flavour in the sauce on the braciola di maiale ($38) ... it had a hint of umami that seemed out of place from what looks like a cream sauce. Consequently, the bagna cauda sauce incorporates anchovies (along with garlic), which is likely what added the umami and gave the neutral pork chop a lot of flavour. The meat was cooked well and the roasted rapini kept nice and crispy.  

Osteria Rialto tried to jazz up the insalata misticanza ($16) with a colourful variety of lettuce, including pink leaves – spoiler alert, it tastes like any other bibb lettuce. Ultimately, it’s a plain salad with a few slices of radish and sprinkling of crispy farro tossed in a vinaigrette. Nothing exciting, but if you’re looking for a traditional way to finish an Italian meal, a simple salad is it.

The dinner reminds me to sometimes not over plan a meal – there’s so many reviews and opinions that at times it gets overwhelming. Keep it simple: look for location and a decent menu, then grab a group of friends and go. 

While Osteria Giulia has been awarded a Michelin star, it’s unlikely they’ll receive a service award anytime soon. Having arrived five minutes early, they weren’t ready to seat tables and we were asked to leave – no option to wait inside or at the bar, what a pain during a windy cold fall evening. Nonetheless, once we were seated, our waitress was warm and welcoming, making up for the poor first impression from the hostess.

Luckily, the food didn’t disappoint. The burrata e caviale ($45), although served a bit cold for my taste, was soft and fluffy, the centre creamy but doesn’t ooze out upon being cut through. The simple starter was a cacophony of flavours mixing briny Italian caviar, sweet Asfodelo honey, and a smoky sourness from the Blackbird bread. That splash of sweetness from the honey was unexpected but absolutely made the dish.

Pull apart the calamari ripieni con tonno ($36) before taking a bite and you’ll find the delicate seafood stuffed with yellowfin tuna paste so there’s a meatiness to each bite. It’s topped with a puntarella and charred pepper salad, giving the calamari a refreshing crispy bite. I’m glad it wasn’t overloaded with too many sauces so that the natural seafood flavours were present.

In retrospect, the lorighittas al mare ($38) was too similar to the calamari. In fact, when the dish was presented, all I could see was a plate of squid rings, only to find many were circles of hand braided pasta. Our waitress explains what makes the dish special is the time intensive nature of creating the pasta, which did have a lovely bite to it. Everything is tossed in a tasty olive oil sauce with a hint of garlic, chilli, and an umami essence from anchovy. I just wish the dish had more of the bay scallops and even some spot prawns thrown in to make it taste more like a seafood pasta.

I’m generally hesitant to order ravioli as it’s usually a scant dish and when they are not adequately filled it can taste like you’re eating pieces of dough. Osteria Giulia’s ravioli doppi ($44) smartly has one side unsealed so they can be overstuffed with silky ricotta and sauce, so you get a gush of filling with each bite. Chunks of lobster and kernels of sweet corn add richness and texture to the dish. It was an impressive dish and the most memorable of the evening.

If you’re visiting the restaurant and expecting to be full after an appetizer and pasta, you’ll be disappointed. Following true Italian traditions, the pasta is just the second course, you’ll need to order a main. We shared the rack of lamb for two ($85) and were presented with eight perfect medium rare lamb chops that were lightly dusted with sea salt. While this would be even better if it was served with a sauce, to give it interest, the meat was prepared beautifully.

The fagioli ($16) went particularly well with the lamb, the crispy beans well coated with a salty spicy meat sauce that added a punch of flavour against the otherwise neutral lamb.

With a selection of delicious sounding desserts, I opted for the millefoglie al cocco ($19), which was beautiful to take in with the thin layers of crispy pastry separating dollops of white chocolate and mango cream. It’s a dessert that could have benefited from being served with a knife, as it was difficult to break through the puff pastry.

Every table needs to order the tiramisu alla Giulia ($19), a rendition of tiramisu that brings it to another level with the ice cream centre and huge dollop of mascarpone and rum zabaglione on top. It was so rich and delicious… how can I have tiramisu any other way?

Osteria Giulia gets mixed reviews online and I can see why: what you order and how much you order can really affect the experience. While it’s a great Michelin option for those who have a smaller appetite or want the flexibility of controlling a budget for the evening, the restaurant should consider making a tasting menu to ensure tables get to really experience all their “best of” dishes – the ravioli, burrata, and tiramisu.  

The restaurant is certainly one of the more inventive Italian restaurants I’ve visited in Toronto and offers some impressive dishes. Still, there’s something about the experience that’s lacking compared to other Michelin restaurants in the city such as the absence of well-rounded service, not serving fully presented mains, and employing annoying nickel-and-diming practices like charging $3 a person for water. Unlike their ravioli, it’s not one experience I’ll be gushing about. 

When an Italian tells you the best place to buy lasagna is from Porzia’s, you listen. With my luck, they also happened to be opening a new restaurant (previously, they operated a takeout joint), a no reservation establishment that can accommodate about 24 people a seating.

Porzia’s menu changes frequently with a focus on seasonal ingredients, which allowed me to try one of the sweetest cantaloupes I’ve ever experienced. If you’ve ever had musk melon, the two slices in the prosciutto and melon ($18) rivaled the prized melon in sweetness and went wonderfully with the freshly shaved Parma prosciutto, which was especially delicious when I sampled a slice covered in olive oil.  

One dish that’s constant on the menu is their lasagna, offered in a “classico” or “bolognese” format. Given I like my pasta saucier, we ordered the lasagne bolognese ($26) a hefty brick of pasta with so many layers of pasta and cheese that sat in a pool of meat sauce and was covered with finely shaved cheese.

The fresh pasta was silky and soft except for the top layer that’s broiled adding a crispiness to the otherwise soft dish. If you like pasta, you’ll swoon over this dish. And while it was delicious, it was also heavy and could use more sauce between the layers.

What impressed me was the tagliatelle with red shrimp al limone ($29), a lighter pasta that’s nonetheless a flavour bomb. I had to ask for a spoon to properly enjoy the sauce: a combination of chili peppers, rich olive oil, and slivers of garlic that ends with a lemon note that’s not overly acidic. After having bites of lasagna, I found the dish so refreshing and the tagliatelle chewy but still silky. Porzia’s you need to make this a staple.

As a secondi we shared the acqua pazza sea bass ($38), which consisted of two fair-sized pieces of perfectly poached fish cooked just to the point of flaking. The broth had a rustic feel to it with chunks of stewed onion, tomato, and artichokes amongst a host of herbs and white wine. If you like fish stews or bouillabaisse, this is the dish for you.

I’m so glad my friend let me in on the secret of Porzia’s and that they opened a restaurant. I have no doubt that as others discover the place, it will become bustling as their food is simply sublime. 

If you’re able to withstand a bit of uncertainty, having lunch at Famiglia Baldassarre will be a reward for your resilience and patience. Over two hours (12-2pm) on Wednesday to Friday, Famiglia dishes out pasta fresh from their line, passing over plates of hot steaming carbs that causes its recipient’s eyes to light up.

Famiglia doesn’t take reservations so get there early if you want to eat at one of their five indoor tables or ten (approximately) patio areas (warning, one person will need to sit on a hay bale). The process is simple: wait, order at the counter, sit at the table they point you to (do not try to sneak out of line to secure a spot), help yourself to cutlery and bread, have a seat, and then wait for your name to be called as dishes are ready.

With a choice of two pastas (each with a white and red sauce option), three sides, and two desserts, you’ll want to go with a buddy to share and try a few things. On our visit, they were offering a tagliatelle ($16) and ricotta & spinach ravioli ($16), which we ordered with ragu and al bianco, respectively.

Before the main event arrived, we tucked into a ball of freshly made fior di latte ($9.50) and thinly shaved 16-month crudo di Parma ($7), which were the perfect compliments to their soft crusty bread. The house made mozzarella was simply adorned with a sprinkling of salt, so the cheese’s creaminess came out in flavour and texture. Meanwhile, the Parma ham had a delicate salty sweetness to it that was great on its own or on the bread.

With two chefs manning three portable induction cooktops, the pastas were churned out at a quick pace. First up, the ravioli where the pasta was so silky since they were literally being made-to-order. In hindsight, we should have gotten these with sugo rosso sauce as the ricotta filling was neutral and needed more seasoning. The butter and cheese sauce, while allowing the spinach flavours to come out, seemed too plain. However, it did make for a tasty bite once I added on a piece of mozzarella and prosciutto.

The tagliatelle was divine and was made to marry the ragu. Who doesn’t like a forkful of smooth chewy pasta coated with a fresh tomato meat sauce? We loved it so much that a second helping was ordered along with a third to go by my friend.

If you order the tiramisu ($5), they’ll write your name on the cup and keep in in the fridge so that when you’re ready for it, the dessert remains cool. I’m glad they actually use mascarpone in the creamy base – and plenty of it given the richness of the custard. Yet, I could have had more of the espresso-soaked cake as it’s the combination of slightly bitter and sweet along with the moist lady finger with cream that I like.

Avelo’s 8-course meal ($120) leaves you comfortably full, without sickness, given dishes aren’t overly heavy. Perhaps that’s what I found lacking, the one or two course that simply envelops you in glutinous comfort food. The closest contender was probably the fourth course - a buckwheat gnocchi with fermented porcini sauce – still, the buckwheat gave the gnocchi a nutty fibrous kick and the sauce was more umami than rich. Hardly the sinful plate I was looking for. At least it was flavourful and the chanterelles beautifully sauteed.

The sourdough everything bagel on the bottom of the first course was superb: crusty on the outside and fluffy on the inside. In lieu of cream cheese and lox, Avelo uses kojified carrot and macadamia cheese, which replicates the slight smoky creaminess on the bagel. It’s just an interesting way of starting a tasting menu, maybe Avelo’s version of a bread course?

Having dined at Avelo’s predecessor, Awai, I was praying for the mushroom soup, a heavenly concoction that had even those who detest mushrooms nodding in approval. Sadly, it didn’t make an appearance and the soup featured roasted kabocha squash instead. It’s difficult to make squash soup exciting, something that can so easily be made at home. Avelo tried to enhance its presentation with apple and salsify pieces to decorate the bowl, but they did little to augment the experience as they’re rather similar in texture. The pumpkin dust was a good start, adding a bit of grittiness to the smooth soup, but it really did need something else crispy or chewy (perhaps a puffed tapioca) to balance out all the mushiness.

Interestingly, after a rutabaga is roasted, it gives off a potato-like flavour, except it’s a severely dry spud. The kitchen tried adding mashed cauliflower to create moisture in the dish, but the small dollop was hardly enough. What it really needed was a sauce, something that would add liquid and flavour as the dish was so boring - when you’re serving vegetables flavour is your friend.

Slices of truffle garnished the rutabaga, but its dry texture meant the truffle was wasted. If anything, this prized ingredient would have been better featured with the gnocchi instead.

Their one bite amuse bouche was impressive: a potato galette that’s described as Avelo’s version of cauliflower tots. I’d say it’s more like fried mac ‘n’ cheese except without the pasta. The galette is piping hot and delicious. Still, some of my friends found the horseradish garnish overpowering, adding a sharp tang when the onion base was already good on its own.

Give me another galette in lieu of the celeriac kofta any day. The kofta is just a drier less exciting version of the potato galette. Sure, it was plated prettily with a well roasted parsnip log adorned with flowers but didn’t taste nearly as good.

What does Avelo’s kitchen have against moisture? I can imagine someone at a stove grumbling about never wanting to make a French sauce again. All their dishes are dry and screaming for sauce… like the cranberry bean tempeh with roasted radicchio. The fruity glaze on the tempeh was fine, giving the beany slab an almost Asian sweet and savoury flavour. But then the huge slice of bitter radicchio was such an inappropriate side. If anything, they could have continued with the Asian influences by having the tempeh sit on a bed of soba or slaw, switching out the pickled okra for snow peas for crunch.

After scanning the menu, the dish I most anticipated was the rye berry risotto. Overall, the execution was satisfactory, but the grain could have been cooked longer to allow the exterior to soften; as it stands, its more wild rice than risotto. I did enjoy the mole base (yay, a sauce!) that when mixed with the plain grains gave it a boost of flavours. The crispy crackers were also a nice garnish that contrast textures, and useful for scooping up the rye berry and mole to create a fancy tortilla and salsa.

Avelo presented two different desserts amongst the table and recommended people share with their neighbour. It’s a smart idea to encourage diners to try something different. Initially, I thought the pineapple upside-down cake would be a winner but found the coconut mousse base (not a cake) made the dessert taste more like pineapple pannacotta and lacked the buttery richness I was craving.

While the tonka bean amazake wasn’t my first choice, the hints of cocao nibs gave the gelatin-based dessert an earthy depth. Still, it could be creamier. If Avelo was going to feature two desserts, they should consider making each stand out – two pannacotta-like desserts with different flavours are hardly exciting - I would have much preferred if they switched it up and did a sweet and savoury option. The later being a nut cheese and cracker plate that is also more shareable.  

At least their mignardise was impressive. In lieu of the traditional truffle, Avelo presented their version of a “Ferro Roche”, a silky hazelnut ganache piped into a crispy caramel cone dipped in chocolate. Now this is inventive and fantastic, something the other desserts should aspire to grow into.

Overall, the meal wasn’t bad, it’s just not overly exciting and tastes like a vegan meal – healthy and void of rich elements, which is what you need to counteract course after course of vegetable and grains.

Still, I could probably overlook the blasé food and rate the experience a 6 out of 10 if it weren’t for the service. Maybe we just got someone who was too new that was left on her own. The gentlemen who eventually stepped in to explain the dishes was so passionate and animated that I loved hearing his descriptions of each course… somehow, he made a piece of charred radicchio sound exciting (it’s not). But our main sever just didn’t perform basic things I’d expect from a restaurant:

1) Using proper glassware for wine. When we ordered Prosecco, it wasn’t served with a flute or champagne glass, instead those small 3oz glasses you’d find at a winery tasting. It was a little strange as these hardly bring out the bubbles of the wine, but we used it without complaint.

It was when we switched to a bold red and our server brought another round of these mediocre glasses that my friend stepped in to politely ask if she could bring us the red wine glasses, we clearly saw displayed at the bar instead. Our server’s response, “Oh, I guess you’d prefer something that can let the wine breathe more?” Ding, ding, ding! Yes, and something to allow us to take in the aroma of the wine.

2) Performing basic math to split a bill. I completely understand if a restaurant can’t accommodate bill splitting for large tables, but our group was less than six. Since everyone didn’t partake in the wine equally, we asked if she could split the first bottle amongst the table and the second to the few who drank it.

After making it sound like a HUGE favour, something that could be accommodated this one time as they weren’t busy, the bill was merely split equally in five. C’mon, if it’s dividing by five, I could have done that calculation in three seconds with a phone. After explaining again what we were hoping for (uneven bills given the wine situation), on the second attempt, she simply took both bottles and split it amongst the few.

With this much modern technology and the tasting menu prices being constant, is splitting two bottles of wine differently that difficult? In retrospect, I wish she just said she couldn’t do the math as I could have easily calculated them myself.

To sum the experience up in an equation: boring dry food (6) less lack of basic serving skills (1) = experience at Avelo (5).