With a name like Café Le Majestik you may be picturing a dining room of grandeur that sparkles with magical touches. Heck, you may even expect a French touch. In reality, you’ll find a HK café with décor that may elicit memories for those growing up in Hong Kong before the turn of the century.  These establishments were created to offer British inspired dishes tweaked for a Chinese palette and at a price point the masses could enjoy. As they grew in popularity, so did their menus.

HK cafés are known for their baked dishes; hence I had to try a classic baked pork chop in tomato sauce with fried rice ($13.99). It’s a bargain arriving with a bowl of overly tangy tomato borscht (adorned with vegetables and no beef) and a hot drink of choice. The mixed tea and coffee drink was properly strong but did take a while to arrive given the solo person making drinks was overrun with orders.

The actual baked rice dish was lacking. While I enjoyed the thick tomato sauce and cheese, the pork chop was lukewarm indicating they likely pre-fried them and assembled dishes to order by placing the meat, sauce, and cheese under the broiler and sliding it onto rice. I like my baked dishes sizzling hot where everything goes into the oven and no one would dare touch the dish as it’s presented. At Majestik, touch away. 

Things improved with the wonton noodles, which did remind me of bowls I had in Hong Kong. The noodles are thin and springy with a lovely chewiness that’s different from those found in supermarkets. Their four-item noodle soup ($13.99) is ideal for trying a bit of everything with two pieces of fish ball, cuttlefish ball, fried fish cake, and meat/fish dumplings. While Majestik’s noodles were amazing, the accompaniments were passable and too soft for my taste. Of the four, the fried fish cake had the most promise.

Despite having so many broths in our meal already, I had to try their imitation shark fin soup ($5.99) and this was the most impressive. Large enough to share amongst two or three people, it’s thick and flavourful with a strong kick of sesame oil for an aromatic essence. With a fair amount of bean curd thread (the “shark fin”) and slivers of black fungus, pork, and bamboo shoots it was hearty and hot. In a pinch, order the imitation soup with another snack item and you’ll have a satisfying lunch.

If you’re heading to Daimaru, do yourself a favour, hop on Yelp and join the waitlist before leaving. It gives you an estimated seating time that’s surprisingly accurate. Sadly, we didn’t know that. Sadly, we had no idea this feature existed, so even though we arrived at 5 p.m., we didn’t get seated until 7:30. If only we’d queued up from the couch first. Lesson learned.

The AYCE premium dinner set per person ($34.99 on weekdays and $36.99 on weekends or holidays) as well as a soup base per table ($19.99). Most tables go for the classic sukiyaki, that sweet and salty broth that seeps deliciously into everything it touches. For variety, we added the pork bone broth, a cleaner, more neutral option that lets seafood flavours shine.

After that long wait, we were starving, so Daimaru’s selection of cooked items was a welcome sight. The Nagoya-style chicken wings were a hit! Sweet, salty, peppery, and lightly crisped while still juicy. The beef tataki, thin slices of seared beef swimming in ponzu and scallions, was another flavour bomb.

There’s no shortage of fried bites either. The crispy pork was spicy, crunchy, and generous in portion. Miles better than the steak cutlet, which was a little too soft for my taste.

Still, pace yourself... you’re here for the hot pot! Daimaru’s ingredient list has a few surprises, like garlic pork ribs and beef tendon. The garlic mellows in the broth but still holds flavour, while the tendon softens quickly, turning silky and jelly-like in under ten minutes.

With six sliced meats on the menu, it feels like the sky’s the limit. We stuck to crowd-pleasers (beef chuck, brisket, and sirloin) each with subtle differences, all perfect for dipping.

Out of all the other ingredients, a few stood out. The squid balls were dense and bouncy with real bits of seafood. The shrimp paste had actual shrimp chunks that plump up beautifully when cooked, giving a great contrast in texture.

I also loved the crispy tofu skin rolls - an underrated alternative to noodles that soaks up broth like a dream. Oddly, Daimaru doesn’t offer spoons, so if you want a sip of soup, this is your best bet. The slotted bowls, however, are genius. They drain excess broth, so your dipping sauce (go for the spicy garlic soy) stays punchy, not watered down.

For the shabu shabu enthusiasts, Daimaru offers both raw and onsen eggs for dipping. The onsen version looks raw but cracks open to reveal a just-set custardy yolk. It's oddly satisfying when it slips out of the shell.

The vegetable selection is generous, with a few surprises like a-choy, which you don’t often see elsewhere. I did miss watercress though, my go-to hot pot green. Still, the king oyster mushrooms and black fungus made up for it, both soaking up the broth perfectly.

Whatever you do, save room for dessert. The Hokkaido milk pudding topped with a peach-pineapple compote was a little on the sweet side but refreshingly tangy. Still, the real star was the soft serve ice cream cone: creamy, nostalgic, and the perfect happy ending to a comforting meal.

Operationally, Daimaru runs like a well-oiled machine. Orders hit the table almost as soon as you submit them, the broth arrived while we were still picking ingredients. Despite the two-hour dining limit, we finished comfortably in under 90 minutes, never once feeling rushed.

By the end, I was full and already planning my next visit... this time with that Yelp waitlist trick. Daimaru hit the spot and is the kind of place that makes you forget the wait once that first bite of sukiyaki-dipped beef hits.

As the holiday season descends upon us, team lunches at work are about to kick off. Walking into Afuri on a weekday, I couldn’t help but think what an ideal spot it would be for a group of 12 or fewer: the restaurant is large, bright, and surprisingly quiet during lunch.

They even have a special ramen lunch menu where $29.95 gets you a starter (some with a $2 supplement), a bowl of ramen, and a non-alcoholic drink (or beer for an extra $4). For many office budgets, that’s a festive win.

Not long after ordering, the homemade ginger ale arrived. With its pale yellow hue and lemon slice, it looks like lemonade... until that bold hit of ginger reminds you otherwise. Lightly sweetened and topped with soda water, it’s bright, zippy, and refreshingly crisp.

Afuri’s mini tori karaage hit the spot: big chunks of lightly breaded chicken coated in a thin yuzu mayo that’s tangy and light. Just eat it quickly - once the chicken cools, the lean meat gets a bit tough. A couple of roasted shishito peppers on the side add a nice touch.

Tsukemen, or dipping noodles, isn’t something you find at every ramen joint, so I jumped at the chance to try their kara-tsuyu. The spicy version had just a mild kick from the chili powder, definitely on the gentler side. Apparently, if you find it too tame, they’ll happily bring chili oil to heat things up.

I appreciated being able to choose hot or cold noodles. I went with hot, which paired beautifully with the cool dipping sauce. Made with soy and chili powder, the sauce comes on the side, and you can either pour it into the bowl or dip as you go. Dipping was my move, it let me control the saltiness and enjoy each bite just right.

Afuri makes their noodles in-house, and it shows. They’re thick, chewy, and perfectly springy, easily the best part of the meal. The soft-boiled egg was also lovely, jammy in the center and well-seasoned. The rest of the toppings were a mixed bag: the chunks of pork belly fat were too heavy (thin chashu slices would have been better), the bamboo shoots overpowered everything, and the arugula felt out of place. A mix of wood ear mushrooms or bean sprouts would have balanced things out better.

While not everything hit the mark, Afuri still delivers a solid lunch deal in a city where ramen isn’t hard to come by. If you’re hunting for a relaxed lunch in Toronto that won’t wreck the office budget, this one’s worth slurping (or dipping) over.

The GTA has expanded to include cuisine from many regions of China over the last decade. Yet, where you can sample Chiu Chow dishes has diminished. One restaurant that has been around for ages is Vintage Garden, a bustling place that still serves from the Chaoshan region in Guangdong,

Vintage Garden isn’t the easiest to find. If you’re heading to the establishment from the south, most likely you’ll be directed onto the 404 North to exit at Finch, then perhaps through Gordon Baker Road through a commercial complex, eventually hitting Victoria Park where your GPS may tell you to turn right, but just go straight through the traffic lights into what looks like an apartment complex.

It looks like you’re lost, but you’re in the right place as the restaurant is located at the bottom of a retirement community. Their signage leads you to the south side of the building, but it’s mismarked. Instead, head to the busier north end instead where Vintage Garden’s entrance is found.

So, what exactly is Chiu Chow cuisine? There’s a lot of variety, but their dishes tend to lean towards braising, boiling, and steaming and less on frying and thick sauces. Yet, they don’t shy away from flavours making it a great option for senior citizens.

While I don’t enjoy offal, I nevertheless sampled the broth and vegetables in the pig tripe, preserved vegetable, ginger and peppercorn soup ($14), a signature Chiu Chow dish. The strong spicy hit of ginger and pepper is great for clearing the throat and does the work of those gingery immunity shots.

I prefer the Chiu Chow style oyster and minced pork with rice in soup ($12.50 for regular (pictured) or $21.50 for large), that borders between broth and congee. In this case, the rice is added with all the other ingredients so doesn’t break down. Rather it soaks in the broth that is teeming with pork and seafood flavours.

Located near the coast, the Chaozhou region cultivates a lot of oysters, so you’ll find the ingredient in a lot of menus. Another common dish is the homestyle fried oysters egg omelette ($23), which at Vintage Garden is simply prepared with tons of oysters, green onions, and egg that’s just cooked through, so it’s still jelly-like in the centre. Use the dipping sauce sparingly as it’s a VERY salty fish sauce.

Other popular items include daa laang which are marinated items served hot or cold. My family thoroughly enjoyed the Chiu Chow style marinated intestine ($18.95), which given my aversion to offal I passed on. But I had my fill of the Chiu Yueng style marinated duck ($21.95 for a half order). Despite its disheveled appearance, the duck was steeped in flavours, especially the slices of deep-fried tofu on the bottom that soak up the braising liquid.

The hand shredded chicken with jelly fish ($21) was tender and tasty tossed with tons of sesame oil and salt. The mound also goes a long way given the chicken is cooled, pulled, and served boneless.

Vintage Garden even features less common dishes like deep-fried cuttlefish roll ($22 for 8 pieces) and Chiu Chow style deep fried shrimp ball ($16 for 6 pieces). The seafood was transformed into a paste, formed, and deep-fried into a hot springy nugget. If you’re only going to get one, the cuttlefish is the better of the two.

Plan ahead and you can special order the diced mushroom and chicken in egg white wrap ($7.50 per wrap), which is exactly what it’s described as: a wrap made with egg white that’s filled with tiny pieces of mushroom and chicken, steamed, and covered in a savoury sauce. It reminds me of the dumplings in soup found at dim sum without the broth. It’s worth a try, but we all agreed was bland compared to the other dishes.

I wouldn’t have thought to order stir fried satay beef ($20.95) but was glad someone recommended it as it became one of my favourite items. Vintage Garden’s sauce is rich, thick, and has a nutty finish. It’s a bit powerful on its own so you’ll want steamed rice ($2.50) on hand to fully enjoy the sauce.

The satay was so good that on a following lunch visit we ordered the satay beef fried rice noodle ($18.95) and the sauce with the noodles was perfect. Best yet, order any rice or noodle dish from their lunch menu and it arrives with a choice of hot drink (supplement $1.50 for a cold version).

The Chiu Yueng style fried rice ($17.50) tasted like Yeung Chow (shrimp and BBQ pork) fried rice, except in this instance the meat wasn’t barbequed. The dish was good and had decent wok hay.

Seeing an order of the black sugar sponge cake ($6.75) float by and I was immediately captivated. The dessert arrives steaming hot emitting a lovely sugary fragrance. The cake was perfect to share amongst our table of six, very fluffy with a hint of brown sugar.

The waitress also recommended the crystal dumplings ($7.75 for 8 pieces) where you get a choice of red bean, lotus paste, or egg custard filling. The golf ball sized desserts consist of a chewy clear wrapper stuffed with a hefty portion of filling. I preferred the red bean, which was sweeter and more flavourful. We all agreed the egg custard was too thick and weak.

You’ll need a reservation for weekend visits as it’s a popular destination for families visiting their relatives that live in the building. Despite running a tight ship with a strict 1.5-hour seating limit, the ladies working there are very friendly and attentive. Just keep in mind they have a cash only policy. Vintage Garden, one of few restaurants in Toronto remaining that you can sample Chiu Chow cuisine.

When I heard about the TL Insider event at the newly opened Sammarco, I was instantly hooked. Who wouldn’t want to try an exclusive $125-per-person menu from the successful duo of Chef Rob Rossi and David Minicucci? Experiencing it in their private dining space, The Carlevale Room, made it even more enticing.

Anyone abstaining from carbs should look away as the elevated tray of pane e burro ($12) arrives. The beautiful golden brioche and fluffy focaccia would certainly have me reaching for a bun. They’re presented with a generous portion of high fat St. Brigid’s butter to spread to your heart’s delight.

It’s particularly intoxicating alongside the la mortazza ($26). The paper-thin slices of mortadella are studded with just enough al tartufo truffle to give it an enthralling aroma but not overpower the delicate slices. Paired with delicate, crispy breadsticks for wrapping, the mortazza is delightful however you choose to enjoy it.

After all that rich meat, we welcomed the vibrant insalta di cicoria ($32), a salad that could easily start any festive meal. Any bitterness from the heirloom radicchio is tempered by candied walnuts and a sweet beet vinaigrette. Shaved ricotta salata adds a touch of creaminess, though the salad could use more than the few chive slivers to round out its savoury notes.

Chef Rob Rossi mentioned that the crudo di tonno ($45) is becoming a signature dish at Sammarco. It’s an inventive take on tuna crudo—bluefin almost pulverized and layered over a silky foie gras cream, topped with a bright mix of blood orange and herbs. The effect is like a seafood pâté that’s impossibly light. It’s lovely, though it could benefit from a final touch of flaky sea salt for contrast.

By the time the wagyu striploin arrived, I was giddy from the wine pairing. The steak was done rare but heated through the centre, perfectly balanced so it didn’t feel undercooked. The ultra-crispy potato pavé was universally adored—wonderful on its own or swirled through the marsala wine jus. I often find steakhouses over-season their meat, so I appreciated Sammarco’s restraint. Alas, the portion disappeared in just a few bites.

Since this was a group event, I was glad for a composed plate, though normally Sammarco offers larger steaks for sharing (or not), from the 8oz tenderloin ($110) to the 40oz porterhouse ($330), with sides ranging from $20–$32.

We ended with the torta al cioccolato ($28): an evenly layered chocolate cake filled with dark chocolate ganache and resting on a bed of espresso cream. The dessert was surprisingly light, and every last bite was devoured.

Sammarco is clearly off to a promising start—its polished dishes and thoughtful service reflect the seasoned expertise of its owners. For those looking to celebrate or simply savour great cooking in an intimate space, Sammarco’s Carlevale Room makes for a memorable evening.