Maybe I’ve been conditioned to have low expectations for good service while dining at a pho place. Having mostly visited holes-in-the-wall where getting your order in a timely manner and having someone bring the bill to the table to save you a trip to the cashier is five-star service, I was pleasantly surprised when I was greeted warmly when entering, asked whether I’d like our bean sprouts boiled or raw, and the chopsticks and spoons weren’t already on the table but brought over in a mug of boiling water.  Pho Quinn claims top spot, in terms of service, for a pho restaurant in my chart.

Their positive attributes don’t stop at the hospitality, it extends to the food as well. The pho broth is flavourful and not greasy; the type that you can have a lot of and keeping drinking after the noodles are gone. I’d recommend they cook their noodles a little less since they will continue expanding in the soup, but I’m also a lover of pasta al dante so may not be the typical palette. There was a decent portion of protein in their raw beef, brisket, and tendon pho ($10 for a small) with massive chunks of tendon that were chewy and tender.

Being my first experience with the bún riêu vermicelli soup ($11.50), I’m torn on whether it’s something I’d order again. Maybe if I’m in the mood for a richer bowl of noodles, given its broth is saltier with the shrimp paste flavours shining through. The tofu puffs are a great edition as it helps soak in the soup and their chewiness goes nicely with the tender Vietnamese meatballs - finely minced pork paste that is squeezed into clumps, which break apart easily with each bite.

Aside from that, there’s one shrimp (for the entire bowl of noodles) and pieces of tomato that must have been added raw as it cools down the soup. Aside from the not-hot-enough temperature, I would have liked the soup to be spicy as well; luckily, there’s chili sauce at the table. Lastly, the bún riêu arrives with lai fun noodles, which are silkier than the pho’s rice noodles and goes nicely with the stronger both.

We skipped the spring rolls and tried the deep-fried shrimp bean curd ($7.50) instead. Sandwiched between the flaky bean curd sheets is shrimp paste that adds a chewy meatiness against the light crispy layers.  

With COVID still underway, Pho Quinn’s dining room is ideally set up with tables in individual booths and added plexi-glass at the top to create even greater separation. It made for a comfortable dining experience. The great service continued throughout the meal: they cleared away unneeded plates as we finished dishes, they were attentive with our bill, and even came around to ask how we were enjoying the food. This visit to Pho Quinn may have spoiled me - from now on I’m going to have much greater expectations from others going forward. 

• My first experience with Laine & Lola

Jatujak Thai Cuisine is quickly becoming a chain of restaurants serving cheap-and-cheerful Thai food in the Toronto suburbs. After seeing so many of their dishes on Instagram and finding positive Google/Yelp reviews to back up the pretty pics, I decided to head north to their outpost located on Steeles a stone’s throw from Scarborough. From the outside, the storefront looks like any other plaza establishment, but once you enter, the dining room is surprisingly spacious and modern.  

Order a lunch special and they’ll arrive in no time – sometimes a worrying sign of premade food that just sits around and is assembled to order. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case with the pad Thai ($8.95). The heap of brown noodles studded with chicken, onions, and bean sprouts didn’t look like much, but once I had a forkful the seemingly too-wet noodles was the perfect consistency and the sweet flavours nicely balanced by the sour and savoury elements. While I couldn’t smell much wok hay when the dish was presented, the pad Thai did have a mellow smoky element that briefly peaks out while being consumed.

I’d skip the chicken green curry ($8.95), it’s run-of-the-mill and a tad sweet for my taste for something that has two chilies listed beside it on the menu. Truth be told, I was probably still a little salty from hearing that the steamed fish curry wasn’t available, something I really had my heart set on.

Jatujak’s beef khao soi ($15.95) could also use a kick of heat to really push the bowl to the next level. Still, it was a tasty dish with the creamy curry broth incorporating a hint of citrus. The combination of silky egg noodles with crispy ones were also on-point with equal amounts of both textures. There were also tons of brisket in the bowl, so this is a great choice for those who really want their protein.

Until my work-from-home schedule ends, and I re-join the downtown rat race, I’m glad to have found Jatujak who will satisfy my Thai cravings until I can taste Chef Nuit’s creations again. I guess their affordable price points, large portions, and ease of getting a table also doesn’t hurt either. If only they had the steamed fish curry – one day, you will get into my belly.

I must have walked by Yuzuki Japanese Restaurant hundreds of times given its prominent location on Bloor Street, just steps from the interchange subway. From the outside, the gleaming metallic sign doesn’t even list ‘Yuzuki’ on it, instead it prominently features the name ‘Ichiriki’ so it’s a bit confusing to find. It wasn’t until we opened the doors that a printed paper announced we were in the right place, further confirmed when our reservation was found, and we were brought to one of the many wooden tables.  

One dish that elicits excitement when it’s on a Japanese restaurant’s menu is grilled fish jowl (or neck). I know, it sounds a little strange and the rhyme “fish head, fish head, rolly polly fish heads” probably plays through your mind. But there’s such a wonderful succulence from the jowl that’s only matched by fish cheeks, and these are so small that they hardly come in dish form.

Yuzuki’s hamachi kama shio-yaki ($13.50) was brilliantly done, the skin on the fish grilled until crispy with the meat flaking off and moist. There’s that delicious meatiness on the first bite that you just want to savour. Fish jaws can be delightful.

In quick succession the premium sushi set ($57) arrives with 10 pieces of nigri and a negi-toro roll that’s created from fish flown in from Japan. Each piece was deftly prepared and small enough to be consumed in one-bite or savoured with two smaller nibbles. The lightly warmed rice could have been seasoned more but had a nice consistency - not too densely packed yet compressed enough that it held up being handled.

The pieces of hirame, kanpachi, Hamachi, madai, and jin-kinmedai, were all light on the palette choices. Ideally, with 10 pieces the set could have benefited from including a stronger fish like aji or non-fish protein to create a greater contrast in flavours. There was a trio of tuna (oma akami, chu-toro, and o-toro) that’s typical in a premium sushi set. All were good except the o-toro contained a chewy bit, so I didn’t experience that sought after melt-in-your-mouth effect.

Thankfully, the uni and ikura were both fresh and clean tasting. Although, I can see why these are best served with the soy glaze brushed on top. Unlike fish, it’s difficult to turn the pieces over to dip into soy sauce, so it goes rice-side down and really soaks in condiment so that saltiness masks the creamy uni and briny ikura.

Yuzuki may not have a roof-top patio and the glitzy crowds that flock to Kasa Moto, or the showmanship of the teppanyaki tables of Yomato. Rather, the cozy restaurant offers well-executed dishes at an affordable prize. I’m so glad we stumbled upon this hidden gem in Yorkville, even though they really should get the sign fixed.

Chances are you may not know a lot about Burmese cuisine. Nestled between Bangladesh, China, Thailand, and Laos, Myanmar (formerly named Burma) looks stunning, but doesn’t attract the same amount of foot traffic as their neighbouring countries, possibly due to the history of civil unrest. Its geography will give you a sense of what to expect with their cuisine: bold flavours, lots of spices, and a luscious curries and sauces are indeed in the cards.

Since the south of the country leads into a sea, seafood is part of the menu. Pōpa’s village fish curry ($19.95) was in fact my favourite dish of the meal. Fresh fish fillets are marinated in a host of spices then cooked with cherry tomatoes until it creates a lovely slightly sweet and tangy sauce that had us ordering another bowl of rice ($6.95), just to make sure none of the delicious sauce went to waste.

While the curry of the rendang beef ($19.95) looks similar, the flavours are completely different. In this dish there’s more heat, but the coconut milk that’s drizzled on top helps to calm it down. The large chunks of tender beef hold up against the aromatic paste of lemon grass, turmeric root, and shallots. It’s one of those dishes you just want to hold up to your nose and inhale.

For those who really want something spicy, the shrimp kebat ($22.95) will leave your tongue tingling for sure. A handful of prawns are stir-fried with vegetables, herbs, and tons of seasoning. Indeed, this is a flavour bomb, but too much for me as the over abundance of curry powder gave the dish a bitter finish. A little less curry and more water to help melt all the flavours together would help.

Pōpa’s menu incorporates Macau and Bali dishes as well. We started with sate lilet Bali ($13.95), what is described as a Balinese satay platter. In my mind, I envisioned bamboo skewers with small bites of sliced beef and chicken. What arrives are two large skewers that are more like kebabs – juicy chunks of beef and chicken coated in satay laced spices. It’s a tasty starter, just not the small handheld nibble that typically makes up a “satay”.

What I was really hoping to try, made in limited quantities, is their mohinga: a fish chowder that incorporates noodles and a host of other ingredients, which sounds downright decadent. Alas, even with a 6:30pm reservation there was not a ladle of it left. Try and try again, I guess. Quite frankly, with all the interesting sounding dishes on the menu that we couldn’t get to, there’s a high probability for a return visit.    

I often think eating out means having something unhealthy; meals generally contain more salt and more fat. That’s until we ordered in from Karbouzi and found their chicken souvlaki dinner ($26) tasted homemade. This isn’t a disparaging comment towards the chef, the entire meal was clean tasting leaving me satisfied but not sinfully so.

The chicken was covered with a delicate char and remained tender thanks to the pepper slices in between that seem to baste the bird with juices. There wasn’t an outrageous portion of sides, the protein simply accompanied with lemony roast potatoes and fluffy rice that were both low on salt, but the cool tzatziki and chicken juices really helped.

If you ever need a meal to pass for something you’d whip up, this is it. Let’s just call it our little secret.