I can’t help but wonder what the North York landscape looked like when Auberge du Pommier first opened in 1987. It certainly wasn’t farmland since York Mills Station had already been around for over a decade. But were the surrounding high-rises already there, or did the restaurant’s rustic white cottage stand more alone against the neighbourhood?

That farmhouse setting is still what gives Auberge its charm. Standing at the entrance, the busy roads and office towers seem to disappear, replaced by a calm, almost country-like atmosphere. The dining room feels cozy yet elegant, and while the tables are a little closer together than expected for such a refined space, it somehow adds warmth rather than distraction.

Comfort arrives immediately with the amuse-bouche - gougères filled with molten cheese and topped with a touch of ham. They’re incredibly satisfying, yet surprisingly light despite the rich filling.

If that’s not enough indulgence, order the pain au lait ($16). Served piping hot, the soft buttery bread releases an intoxicating aroma that becomes even better slathered with cultured butter. It’s the kind of bread that makes you accidentally eat far more than intended.

After such a rich start, I expected the boeuf consommé ($30) to continue in the same comforting direction. Instead, the broth carried an unexpected acidity, perhaps from the smoked celeriac, that gave it a lighter feel. Alongside the raw squash and generous barley, the soup ended up feeling fresher than cozy. Thankfully, the short rib and caramelized onion raviolo was excellent: plump, perfectly cooked, and packed with flavour.

The rib eye in the boeuf ($90) was the standout of the evening. Cooked to a beautiful medium rare, it was tender while still maintaining a lovely crust. Interestingly, the steak was cut thick and compact, almost resembling a tenderloin, yet still delivered the marbled richness that makes rib eye so satisfying. Every accompaniment worked well with it, from the sourdough crumble and pomme espuma to the pickled shallot gel, crunchy broccolini, and silky red wine jus. It’s one of the better mains I’ve had at Auberge in years.

At this point, I was stuffed (we may have had a second helping of pain au lait) so I sampled desserts from the rest of the table. The macarons ($25) are ideal for sharing, with six per order. The caramel flavour was denser than expected, though my fellow diners assured me the pistachio version was far superior.

Auberge’s cheese plate ($14 per oz) remains a popular option. Diners can choose from a selection of hard, soft, and blue cheeses, priced by weight. My husband selected a Beemster-style cheese that paired beautifully with honey, berry compote, and crostini. Simple, but very satisfying.

Surprisingly, the restaurant was fairly quiet on our Friday night visit aside from a birthday celebration happening in the private dining room. The calmer atmosphere likely helped service shine. Something about Auberge feels more relaxed now. The dining room is brighter, tables are grouped closer together in the centre, and the overall vibe feels livelier and less stuffy than before.

Our waiter joked comfortably with guests while still delivering polished service. At one point, a server even cut garlic bread into bite-sized pieces for a child at a neighbouring table without being asked. Small gestures like that say a lot.

There’s something comforting about how Auberge evolves without losing its identity. The restaurant feels brighter, livelier, and less formal than before, yet it still holds onto the polished hospitality and French-inspired cooking that people return for.