When a server says, “I have some bread coming for the table,” I assume it’s complimentary… but not at Carmelina Restaurant. While not an exorbitant charge, we did notice a $3-per-basket fee on the bill. You can upgrade to garlic bread for $13, which gets you four slices of fluffy, warm bread brushed with oil and garlic, topped with shredded parmesan, plus a trio of dips and olives. Again, not outrageous, but a bit more transparency would’ve been appreciated.

Especially since I didn’t really need the extra carbs. Carmelina’s portions are generous. The grilled calamari ($22) arrived as two smoky pieces of squid on a bed of tropical salad with grilled peppers and olives. It was nicely cooked: tender, full of flavour and felt fresh thanks to all the vibrant accompaniments. Unfortunately, I barely made a dent in the salad, let alone the toasted poppadum bowl, before the mains came flying out.

Pacing is a real issue here. For a restaurant with live entertainment - a loud but talented musician serenading us first on piano, then guitar - Carmelina seems eager to rush you through your meal. The busboy repeatedly tried to clear the wooden garlic bread board while there were still pieces on it. We joked that maybe they were running low on boards and needed it back immediately.

Sure enough, when the lobster and shrimp risotto ($37) hit the table, I hurriedly finished my last bite of salad before the remaining calamari was whisked away. The champagne and saffron infused risotto was rich and plentiful. While the half lobster tail was overcooked and chewy, the five sizeable prawns were well prepared and thankfully made up for it.

The pappardelle al verde ($33) was a flavour bomb: mushrooms, caramelized onions, arugula, gorgonzola, and sundried tomatoes folded into a creamy, nutty sauce. The noodles had that proper fresh chew, which made the dish especially satisfying. And finally, once the mains landed, we were mercifully left alone to eat and enjoy the crooning serenade.

Even though we couldn’t finish our mains, we still made room for tiramisu ($14). Moist, creamy, and unmistakably homemade, it was a comforting end to the meal. A slightly stronger espresso hit would’ve made it perfect, but I was happy regardless.

Carmelina delivers generous portions and comforting Italian flavours, but the rushed pacing and lack of transparency take away from what could otherwise be a relaxed, enjoyable night out. Slow down the service, be clearer with pricing, and this place could really shine.

Located in a newly constructed plaza, Son's Dai Pai Dong is already a fixture among the handful of businesses operating. It’s surprisingly busy for a weekday lunch, with a small line forming by 1 p.m. on a Wednesday. Thankfully, the wait isn’t long. Tables turn quickly, likely because the tightly packed folding tables and hard-backed chairs aren’t exactly built for lingering. But what do you expect? This is a dai pai dong, or food stall for those who prefer English.

Their gimmicky chilled sweet and sour pork ($19.88) is what draws people in, and I’ll admit it worked on me. As a huge fan of Stephen Chow the dish immediately caught my attention. In his film The God of Cookery, there’s a cooking competition where one of the contestants serves sweet and sour pork encased in ice. The idea is that the cold rapidly hardens the sauce, creating something crunchy on the outside and hot on the inside. It’s pure slapstick, and I’ve watched it more than once.

So, when a similar dish popped up on my feed, the nostalgia hit instantly. At Son’s, they take a straightforward approach: a plate of sweet and sour pork topped with a scattering of ice cubes. From what I remember, the movie version involved tossing the pork with ice to semi-freeze it, not simply serving it with cubes on top.

As expected, the ice melts quickly, so you’ll want to dive in right away. At first bite, the pork is crispy and slightly more candy-like than usual, but the difference is subtle. Once the ice starts melting, things go downhill fast. We ended up moving the pieces onto another plate to avoid them becoming cold and soggy. It’s a fun one-time try, but not something I’d order again.

In the dish are pieces that look like garlic cloves. Bite into one and you get a burst of tangy, juicy sweetness. They seem more like pickled shallots, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant addition.

While their menu offers razor clams ($26.88), you can also order stir-fried clams ($18.88) off menu. The portion is generous and enjoyable, but a bit too sweet, tasting more like sweet bean than black bean sauce. It’s missing that punchy aroma and garlicky finish that usually defines the dish.

The Typhoon Shelter seafood noodles ($19.88) are better described as stir-fried noodles with shrimp and pork. It’s a letdown. Traditionally, this dish features a mix of whatever seafood is freshest, so it should feel abundant and varied. At the very least, a few pieces of squid would help justify the name. Despite its deep colour, the noodles lack flavour and wok hay, tasting like something we’d throw together at home… and I’m not exactly a great cook.

Our table found their dry beef ho fun ($12.99 for lunch portion) more impressive. While the soy sauce could be distributed more evenly, it delivers better wok hay. The rice noodles are chewy, and the combination of green onion, red onion, and bean sprouts adds a satisfying crunch.

Tucked into a corner of the Chartwell Shopping Centre, near the newer standalone buildings, is Di An Vietnamese Cuisine. Step inside and the aroma of rich broths practically begs you to sit down and stay awhile. This isn’t the minimalist Vietnamese restaurant of my childhood, where tables were crammed together, menus laminated, and the goal was to eat quickly and leave. At Di An, you’re encouraged to linger, chat, and order a few courses… not just a single bowl of noodles.

The crispy netted rolls ($12.95) arrive looking delicate, but the light, lacy exterior gives way to a dense filling of minced pork, shrimp, egg, and glass noodles. It’s surprisingly hefty for something so dainty.

If you're a table of four, the combo spring rolls and fresh rolls ($15.95) is ideal when you can’t decide what you prefer. While I love a good crunch, after the richness of the netted rolls I found myself craving the simplicity of the fresh rolls, where the flavours of shrimp and pork really stand out. Sometimes, simpler really is better.

If you’re a fan of bold carpaccio-style dishes, the Di An rare ribeye salad ($15.95) is worth considering. Thin slices of briefly seared beef are tossed with Thai basil, mint, red onion, chilies, peanuts, cucumber, and lime juice. This “salad” leans heavily into herbs and acid -  a little too much for me, as it overwhelmed the beef. I couldn’t help but think that blending the herbs with citrus and oil into a dressing and pairing it with beef, onion, carrot, and cucumber might bring better balance.

The crispy chicken wings ($18.95 for a large) were delicious. Lightly battered and incredibly crunchy, they’re seasoned simply with salt and a subtle spice (possibly coriander?). There’s no sauce in sight, but they’re clearly marinated being deeply flavourful on their own.

I remain conflicted about bone marrow pho ($20.95). Some swear by the smoky richness it adds, but I find the broth needs to be plentiful and piping hot to properly melt the marrow into the soup. As a pho purist, I prefer a cleaner broth and Di An’s delivers exactly that: flavourful without relying on excess salt.

The bowl is generously loaded with rare ribeye, beef balls, and brisket, while an abundance of fresh herbs keeps everything from feeling too heavy. Even after everything I’d already eaten, I still found myself craving the noodles.

For something more interactive, a duo or larger group should consider the hot pot and grilled rolls ($42.99). It arrives with a side of aromatic beef wrapped in peppery betel leaf. My first experience with these, and I can absolutely see them replacing spring rolls as an appetizer on certain visits.

The combo also includes a small pot of onion-rich beef soup that almost leans into French onion territory. You cook thin slices of ribeye to your liking, then build fresh rolls using vermicelli, herbs, green apple slices, and rice paper. My DIY roll was generously stuffed, and the juiciness of the freshly cooked beef added so much flavour that no dipping sauce was needed.

To round things out, Di An’s Thai iced tea ($6) comes in green or red. I tried the green version: its vibrant colour is matcha-like, but the flavour is lighter and slightly floral, making it a refreshing end to the meal.

From rich broths to playful DIY dishes, Di An offers more than just a quick pho fix. It’s a great option when you want to linger, talk, and eat well without feeling rushed.

Estiatorio Milos’ business lunch ($49) is a great option for anyone who has at least an hour to spare on a weekday. If you’re pressed for time, just let them know when you order - they’ll plan to have you out within the hour, or they pick up the tab. I, on the other hand, was in no rush. The staff read the room, paced the meal accordingly, and let us linger comfortably.

With four starters and eight mains to choose from (three with supplements), there’s plenty of variety, though seafood clearly takes centre stage. I leaned fully into the sea and wasn’t disappointed.

The salmon tartare was surprisingly, with large chunks of fresh salmon tossed with herbs and finely minced red pepper, giving the dish a bright, meaty freshness. In the dead of winter, that first bite genuinely felt like sunshine - apologies for getting philosophical, but it really hit home.

While crostini were scarce, every table receives a basket of freshly grilled bread and a wasteful pour of olive oil. Carb lovers don’t worry, there’s plenty to scoop up that tartare.

The whole dorade royal grilled might sound exotic, but you’ve likely seen it elsewhere under its more familiar name: sea bream. At Milos, it arrives deboned and finished simply with olive oil, herbs, and capers. That said, if you’re squeamish about bones, proceed with caution as the deboning accuracy seems to vary. My plate had only a couple stragglers, while my dining companion’s fish had several lingering behind.

The dish is simple, clean, and ideal for lunch, so it satisfies without tipping you into post-meal drowsiness. The steamed vegetables were overcooked, though that may appeal to those who prefer their cruciferous vegetables soft rather than crunchy.

For anyone who wants to channel a bit of Don Draper energy without returning to work tipsy, Milos’ 3oz lunch pours are a great idea. And if you decide to lean in just a little more, they can easily be doubled into a proper glass.

Milos’ business lunch is proof that a midday meal can feel indulgent without being excessive. If you’ve got the time (and even if you don’t), it’s a lovely way to enjoy seafood done simply and well.

Tucked between furniture stores and other retail shops, Hana Ramen is the kind of place you’d never stumble upon by accident. If a friend hadn’t tipped me off, I would’ve completely missed the narrow but cozy little restaurant.

Walking in feels like stepping outside of Toronto altogether. It’s a tiny operation - just two people working the kitchen and not a host in sight. After a minute of unsuccessfully trying to catch one of the chefs’ attention, I grabbed my own menus and claimed one of the seven tables in the place.

Despite its size, Hana Ramen boasts a surprisingly extensive menu. Their tonkotsu ($15.99) seemed like the right place to start, the tried-and-true ramen staple you’ll find at nearly every ramen shop. The star of the bowl is the chashu: thick slices of deep-fried pork with a crispy crackling exterior that gives way to rich, fatty meat that melts on the tongue. These honking slabs put the flimsy chashu at other spots to shame.

The soft-boiled egg was equally impressive… jammy, well-seasoned, and deeply satisfying. I enjoyed all the garnishes too, from the pickled carrots that add a pop of brightness to the heart-adorned fish cake that’s guaranteed to make you smile.

Where the bowl falls short is consistency in the noodles. On my first visit, they were overly soft with a faint alkaline aftertaste. On a follow-up visit, though, they had more chew and no lingering finish. The tonkotsu broth is solid and not overly oily, which helps balance the fatty pork, and flavourful without being overly salty. It’s a good option for those who don’t want an aggressive bowl.

You can order the ramen on its own or as part of a combo ($22.99), which includes karaage to start and cheesecake to finish. For rice lovers, the pork chashu don ($13.99) arrives with three thick slices of pork, a soft-boiled egg, caramelized onions, pickled vegetables, and broccoli over a generous portion of sticky rice. I appreciated that the sauce was layered into the rice, so even the bottom bites were full of flavour. There’s also a plant-based chashu ramen for those leaning vegetarian.

If you’re a fan of Shanghainese beef noodles, Hana Ramen’s braised beef ramen ($16.99) hits a similar note. Large chunks of tender braised beef are joined by egg, black fungus, bamboo shoots, and vegetables for a hearty, well-rounded bowl. The pork bone broth carries a gentle spiciness here, leaving a pleasant tingle on the tongue. And a nice bonus: all Hana Ramen noodle bowls come with a free noodle refill if the first serving doesn’t quite do the trick.

Hana Ramen isn’t trying to be flashy or trendy, and that’s exactly its charm. It’s a small, no-frills spot doing some things, like the chashu and eggs, well. Since it’s never too busy, it’s also a great place to linger over a bowl and talk without feeling rushed.