As steakhouses across Toronto become increasingly glamorous, with bodycon dresses and tailored suits becoming the norm, it’s refreshing to step into Barberian’s, where the upscale pub atmosphere reminds us of a simpler time. Reservations are still made over the phone, written into a paper ledger, and tables assigned as guests arrive.

The restaurant’s ever-growing collection of Canadian antiques remains proudly displayed on the walls, ceilings, and tucked into every available nook of the original tavern. If you have time before your meal, or the restaurant isn’t too busy, you can even turn it into an Easter egg hunt by spotting the treasures listed on the back of the menu, including paintings by the Group of Seven, a wooden statuette of Sir John A. Macdonald, and even antique rifles.

Some traditions haven't changed either, like the plate of pickled vegetables that lands on the table before the water is even poured. Alongside the expected dill pickles are snap peas, celery, fennel, carrots, and onions. It's a refreshing way to start the meal and a welcome palate cleanser between bites once the meat sweats inevitably kick in.

Even the Caesar salad ($27; half order pictured after being split) has evolved, now topped with a thick strip of tender, beautifully caramelized bacon. The dressing packs plenty of flavour: lots of garlic, a subtle anchovy umami, a touch of sweetness that may come from sherry, and a zingy finish that tastes like a generous helping of horseradish. Even split between two people, it's still an impressively hearty starter.

The dry-aged bone-in rib steak ($108 for 16oz) remains Barberian's signature dish and was fantastic as always. Charcoal grilling lends it a subtle smokiness, while the beautifully caramelized crust gives way to a perfectly medium-rare centre. Their signature seasoning adds plenty of flavour without becoming overly salty. Compared to previous visits, the bone seemed slightly smaller, but the beef itself was every bit as flavourful and wonderfully tender.

Still, it was the roast prime rib of beef ($96) that had my eyes popping. The towering, nearly two-inch-thick slice made me wonder whether I'd accidentally been served a double portion. There's no choice of doneness with the prime rib, and mine was a touch rarer than I normally prefer, but it remained incredibly tender. The intensely seasoned crust was delicious enough to break off and enjoy with each bite. I actually preferred pairing it with a smear of horseradish and some of that seasoning over the accompanying red wine demi-glace, which leaned a little too sweet for my taste. Give me a simple au jus any day.

As if the portion weren't generous enough, the prime rib also comes with the rib bone, a satisfyingly meaty beef bone, and a massive Yorkshire pudding that's wonderfully airy with an incredibly crisp exterior. Every steak also includes your choice of French fries or a baked potato. We both opted for the latter: a fist-sized fluffy potato finished tableside with your choice of sour cream, bacon bits, and feta. While the sour cream is a classic topping, the feta adds a creamy saltiness that works surprisingly well.

Needless to say, you'll leave stuffed. In our case, we packed up enough prime rib to make sandwiches for two the following evening. Fortunately, I had wisely saved room for dessert. The New York style cheesecake ($22.50) was beautifully balanced: rich without being heavy, dense yet silky smooth, with a thin crust that added just enough savoury contrast. The fresh strawberry sauce complemented the cheesecake perfectly without overwhelming it with sweetness. Blueberry and chocolate are also available if you prefer.

Having operated since 1959, it's easy to understand Barberian's enduring appeal. They know what they do well and don't overcomplicate it. Rather than relying on technology and automation, they rely on experienced people who genuinely know their craft.

Case in point: when we told the sommelier we'd like to switch from champagne to a Cabernet Sauvignon with our steaks, she simply acknowledged the request and assured us it would arrive at the right time. Sure enough, the wine appeared just minutes before the mains. Throughout the evening, the staff quietly monitored our pace, ensuring the steaks weren't rushed but arrived about 10 minutes after we finished the salad. Barberian's remains a well-oiled machine where the front and back of house work together seamlessly.

In a city where many steakhouses are chasing trends, Barberian's remains confidently old school. The recipes, the service, and even the reservation book remind you that sometimes experience beats innovation, especially when the steaks are this good.

There's something about Little Italy that still draws me in after all these years. It has an effortlessly lively energy where everyone seems to be gathered on a patio. During FIFA, the neighbourhood becomes even more animated, even on nights when no one is actually playing.

Tucked just off bustling College Street is Casa Paco, a charming restaurant that feels like you're being welcomed into someone's home. They now offer two tasting menus: a more elaborate chef's menu in the dining room and a shorter experience at the bar.

The five-course chef’s menu ($145 per person) offers plenty of food, enough to leave you fully satisfied. Still, the restaurant also offers a few additions if you want to augment the experience.

We added their signature Rubia Gallega ($28), a labour-intensive dish that Chef Chinery and Chef Bragagnolo have considered removing from the menu more than once, only to keep it because diners love it so much.

Using Ontario wagyu, they cure the beef in house for nine months until it develops an incredible natural sweetness that's unlike anything I've tasted. These paper-thin slices are finished with creamy burrata and fresh truffle for an extra touch of decadence. Layered onto the airy crackers, everything comes together in one cohesive bite that's sweet, savoury, creamy, crunchy, and packed with umami.

Oh, and those darker hues along the edges of the meat? Rest assured, it's not mold. Rather, it's from the truffle wash they use to finish the beef.

The chef's menu begins with a trio of snacks to whet the appetite. The meaty boquerones started to lean a little fishy when eaten on their own, but the tangy sea asparagus balanced everything out, adding a lovely fresh crunch against the white anchovy. It also paired beautifully with the tomato bread, which was exquisite thanks to beautifully ripe tomatoes.

The only bite I didn't really sample was the octopus carpaccio, which I've sadly lost my taste for after learning more about these brilliant, misunderstood creatures. My husband, however, assured me it was delicious.

Seafood reigns supreme on Casa Paco's menu, and we were lucky enough to visit while the last of the B.C. spot prawns were still available. As always, they were wonderfully sweet with that firm yet delicate texture that makes them so sought after. They're served with a well-seasoned chilled baby gem soup that looks like wheatgrass but tastes nothing like it. I only wish there had been more of the smoked cucumber, which added such a wonderful crunch against the silky purée.

Even their heirloom tomato salad gets a kiss of the sea with cubes of bluefin tuna scattered throughout. I'll admit, I never imagined pairing tuna with strawberries, and I'm not sure I'd do it again. It's not that the combination is bad, but the two ingredients don't really complement each other either. Something lighter, like scallops, might have been a better match.

It almost felt like Casa Paco was serving all my favourite ingredients, as my eyes immediately lit up when the zucchini blossom arrived, something I always look forward to eating but would never attempt to make myself. Stuffed with a scallop and lobster mousse, the blossom can be enjoyed on its own or elevated even further with the intensely flavourful lobster emulsion, which tastes like a lobster bisque crossed with hollandaise.

Before we could even finish the dish, a plate of socarrat arrived. The rice cooked in a seafood stock and enhanced with a the flavourful oily sobrassada.

Once it was scraped up, we’re told to take the toasted crispy rice and mix it into the remaining lobster emulsion. What a fantastic idea. It immediately made me regret not leaving more sauce behind. It was so good that it convinced me I need to return for Casa Paco's Sunday paella nights.

For the main course, diners choose between a fish or steak to share. We kept the seafood theme going with the Dover sole, which is carefully deboned, brined, grilled, and filleted for sharing. It arrives with a Basque pil-pil sauce made from the fish bones, cod, and aromatics before being emulsified with olive oil into a silky, almost velvety sauce. Such a shame the dish wasn’t accompanied by a piece of toasted bread for mopping up every last drop.

Having been brined, I found the fish just a touch salty on its own. Thankfully, bites of the accompanying radicchio salad balanced things nicely. Either the vinaigrette or another ingredient lent the salad a subtle licorice flavour that I normally wouldn't enjoy, yet somehow it really worked here.

Before dessert, a simple raspberry ice palate cleanser arrives.

Which leads me to point out that the chef's menu doesn't include dessert. Consequently, if you're craving something sweet, you'll want to add one to finish the meal.

The coffee and cardamom cheesecake ($18) is more than enough for two to share. Casa Paco's Basque cheesecake is lightly burnt, fairly dense, yet wonderfully creamy. The coffee flavour comes through clearly, while the cardamom leaves a subtle warmth that gently tingles on the finish. Very interesting indeed.

For an even richer ending, the chocolate and olive oil truffle ($16) is a solid log of silky dark chocolate ganache that practically melts on the tongue. It's only lightly sweetened, making it surprisingly balanced, and pairs beautifully with the cheesecake if you want to mix and match bites.

Unlike the aperitif selection, the digestif menu isn't printed because their amaro selection of roughly 100 bottles is constantly changing. You'll simply have to trust Gary Danaie, their sommelier, to find the right one for you. After my husband mentioned that he normally enjoys cognac, grappa, and Scotch, Gary recommended the Ximenez Spinola 2018 Battonage ($22). He absolutely nailed it. The spirit carried the richness of cognac, a touch of grappa's bite, and somehow finished with lingering caramel sweetness.

Since joining the restaurant in June 2025, Gary has dramatically expanded the wine program from my previous visit. Focusing on Spanish and Italian wines, he has an infectious passion for explaining every bottle. We sampled several grape varieties we'd never even heard of before and thoroughly enjoyed the experience ($85 for the wine pairing).

Even more impressive is that Gary is the restaurant's only employee. The other four people you'll see working throughout the evening are all owners and founders: Chef Chinery and Chef Bragagnolo in the kitchen, Tommy Conrad behind the bar, and Ailbhe McMahon leading the front of house.

All five jump in wherever needed, serving dishes, clearing plates, checking on guests, and keeping the restaurant running. The downside is that, with only one seating each evening, dinner unfolds at a leisurely pace. Our five-course menu with an add-on and dessert stretched to three-and-a-half hours. Antsy diners who struggle to sit still have been warned.

Restaurants often talk about hospitality, but Casa Paco genuinely lives it. With every owner contributing to the experience and Gary guiding diners through an exceptional wine program, the restaurant feels remarkably personal. It's the sort of place you settle into for the night rather than simply dine at.

There’s something about the Venice neighbourhood that makes it feel quintessential to Los Angeles and special. Tucked along Abbot Kinney Boulevard, the restaurant has become a neighbourhood institution that genuinely lives up to the hype. The lunch menu is extensive and rooted in California’s produce-driven cooking, with enough plant-based options to satisfy just about anyone.

After encountering far too many whole roasted cauliflowers that require awkward cutting at the table, I appreciated that Gjelina’s wood-roasted cauliflower ($19) arrived already broken into bite-sized pieces. The flames caramelize the edges beautifully, giving the florets a smoky char while layers of garlic, chili, and vinegar keep the dish vibrant and addictive. If vegetables always tasted this good, convincing people to eat them would be far easier.

The grilled squid ($22) also gets that char. The seafood is cooked perfectly so it stays tender while still getting a slight smokiness from the grill. Topped with a vibrant tapenade, beans, celery, red onion, and other vegetables, every bite feels fresh and lively.

Still, the pizzas are hard to resist. The squash blossom pizza ($28) immediately caught my attention thanks to two personal favourites: delicate zucchini blossoms and burrata. The thin, blistered Neapolitan crust comes generously topped with baby zucchini, cherry tomatoes, and confit garlic, creating something creamy, fresh, and deeply satisfying all at once. Thankfully, the pizza was large enough to share because otherwise I may not have left any for my friend. Extra salt, dried oregano, and chili flakes arrive on the side for anyone wanting even more flavour.

Honestly, I wish my trip had been longer just so I could return to try more of the menu. The gruyère and caramelized onion pizza and an anchovy-topped version all sounded interesting.

Even on a Monday, Gjelina was packed through lunch service, with the back patio fully reserved. If you don’t have a booking, it’s worth arriving early or simply embracing the Venice lifestyle by heading to the beach first before returning for a later lunch. Some restaurants become famous because they’re trendy. Gjelina feels different. It’s the kind of place people keep returning to because the food genuinely delivers, even years after the hype began.

Should I blame it on the FIFA match that day, or is that just an excuse for poor inventory management? Either way, what restaurant runs out of prosecco and rosé in the middle of summer? Without bubbly in hand, dinner at Curryish Tavern was already off to a shaky start.

Their tasting menu ($98 per person) revolves around one featured ingredient each month and, for June, it was mango. As someone who loves the fruit, I was intrigued to see how the kitchen would incorporate it into savoury dishes beyond the usual mango salad.

Dinner begins with a foie gras tart topped with mango murabba. The unripe green mangoes are preserved with sugar and spices, creating a sweet-and-tart chutney that is a burst of flavour. In fact, it’s almost too much, overpowering the goose liver mousse beneath it. A lighter hand would have worked better, although the acidity does help cut through the richness of the foie gras.

Next comes the raw mango and smashed cucumber salad, the most recognizable use of mango on the menu. The peanut dressing adds a creamy savoury note, while the spicy oil gives the cucumbers a nice kick. Fresh dill brightens everything and the crunchy pods scattered throughout add a satisfying textural contrast.

The Kesari mango bhel was a little harder to understand. The crunchy rice cake topped with a mango pakora became too starchy and heavy. The dish would have benefited from a protein like grilled shrimp or tuna tartare, or even something lighter like a mango corn salad or paneer topped with grilled mango. Even making the puffed rice crisp thinner would have helped since it was difficult to cut through and properly combine with the other ingredients.

Still, it was far better than the black cod ceviche, which ended up being the weakest dish of the evening. The overly sweet mango sauce completely dominated the plate, the fish was minced rather than diced, and overall, it just didn’t taste especially fresh.

Thankfully, the meal recovered with the coconut mango chicken curry served with a hot crispy flaky parotta. The mango was more restrained, adding a subtle brightness instead of overwhelming the dish. We agreed it was good but still behind other chicken curries we’ve had elsewhere.

What made the evening more frustrating was the pacing. Despite the restaurant being nearly empty - we were one of three tables during Friday dinner service - the meal moved painfully slowly. Many of the dishes also felt like they could have been prepped well ahead of time, making the three-hour meal even more puzzling.

By the time dessert arrived, I was admittedly checked out. The Alphonso mango shrikhand on chirote was forgettable, tasting mostly like yogurt spooned over a firmer puff pastry.

As much as I love mango, this tasting menu simply wasn’t for me. Too many dishes leaned into the same sweet-and-tangy flavour profile, so by the end of the meal everything started to blur together. Curryish Tavern deserves credit for building an entire tasting menu around mangoes, but the execution felt uneven. By the end of the night, I was craving contrast more than another variation of mango.

When a restaurant is recognized by several Toronto publications as one of the city's best new restaurants, it's bound to get busy. Consequently, you'll want to secure a reservation at Seahorse or risk being turned away. And with a name like Seahorse, you'd expect an abundance of seafood. Thankfully, that's exactly what you'll find, although the menu also includes a grilled steak and salads for those who prefer turf over surf.

I naturally stuck with the sea, starting with the tuna tartare ($29), which almost has the feel of a beef tartare thanks to its savoury crème fraîche dressing. Combined with the pickled accents, it almost resembles a tartar sauce. Personally, I enjoyed piling it onto the smoky toasted bread, but I could see some diners feeling the tuna gets a little lost.

So, if you're after brighter citrus flavours or that Peruvian-Japanese (Nikkei) style of tartare, this isn't it. Instead, opt for the kampachi crudo or Thai prawn ceviche, which are better suited to those cravings.

The burrata salad ($28) was a little skimpy on the cheese, consisting of only half of a very small ball. There simply wasn't enough to match the generous helping of heirloom tomatoes and plums. Still, it's a pleasant salad, and I liked the addition of a slightly tart verjus glaze that kept the fruit from becoming overly sweet.

If you're dining with three or more people, I'd recommend ordering at least two pastas ($44). Seahorse makes theirs fresh daily, so the delicate spaghettini clings to their umami-rich signature sauce, which resembles a tangy seafood bisque rather than marinara. Three nicely grilled prawns top the dish. Personally, I would have preferred the sun-dried tomatoes blended into the sauce instead of left in chunks, as I found their concentrated flavour a little overpowering, but that's entirely a matter of taste.

The fish ($46), a Caribbean red snapper, was grilled to perfection wonderfully flaky and meaty. The ramp salsa verde was such a bright burst of flavours that I’m glad they placed it on the side, so you gradually add to the fish. For those who prefer simpler flavours, the fennel gremolata on top was more than enough.

I’d recommend ordering some bread ($9) and saving it for dipping into the mains. The sauces are excellent on their own but mix the pasta sauce with a little of the salsa verde and tell me it doesn't become even better.

Having heard so much about the crêpes Suzette, I was disappointed to learn they were removed for the summer. I understand the warm dessert is probably better suited to cooler weather. Instead, we settled on the ciambellone ($16), an Italian lemon olive oil cake topped with a bright strawberry coulis for a lighter finish. The menu describes the ice cream as white chocolate, but to me it tasted more like brown butter and caramel, which nicely mellowed the acidity of the coulis.

While the food was fantastic, Seahorse's service still has room to improve. Aside from the owner stopping by once (and noticing empty water glasses) to ask how we were enjoying the meal, no one refilled our water, even though our server checked in several times. Pro tip: if you're already at the table, just grab the bottle and top up the glasses. After asking for the bill, we also waited quite a while for the payment terminal and eventually had to flag someone down again. We even tried paying through the QR code on the bill, but it unfortunately didn't work. In a busy restaurant, I would have thought they’d want to turn over tables quickly.

Seahorse has certainly earned the attention it's been getting. The kitchen is turning out thoughtful, seafood-forward dishes that make it easy to understand the accolades. A few service hiccups aside, Seahorse delivers a meal that's well worth planning ahead for.