Walking through the Yonge and Wellsley area, I marvel how it’s become the next Little Asia – a more densely packed Yonge and Sheppard. There are so many restaurants that serve bowls of soupy noodles that I’d miss GunGun Rice Noodle if I weren’t looking for the place.

Surprisingly, one of the best dishes of the meal wasn’t even the noodles. Their braised pork belly rice ($9.99) impressed with the diced pieces of flavourful meat incorporating just enough fatty pieces to melt into the rice to create a caramelized stickiness but not feel overly gluttonous. The slightly sweet soy flavours were evident but not too strong so you could easily get through a bowl. In fact, it’s more than enough for lunch.

I’m glad I refrained from ordering any of their spicy noodles as even the crispy pork tomato rice noodle ($16.99) contained a back note of the mala spice. It was by no means spicy, but the tomato broth had a bit of chili oil mixed in to give it a tingle.

Adding two fried soybean roll ($1.99) seems expensive given the noodles are under $20, but I love how they soaked in the flavourful broth, the crevices of the thin sheets creating a juicy bite. You’ll get a bit of that pop with the fried tofu puffs and gluten squares that come with the bowl, but these don’t have the silky finish.

The rice noodles (or lai fun) were a tad soft but at least resisted getting too soggy sitting in the broth. And there’s tons of the crispy pork slivers on top but didn’t add much to the experience. In hindsight, I’d prefer a vegetarian version of the noodles and add on more toppings. Quail eggs and vegetables round out the bowl for a filling meal.

Having had a lot of pork, we opted for the fried chicken bun ($6.99), which was surprisingly large for its low price… easily rivaling two McChickens. You’ll have to get over the hit of cumin which gives the fowl an almost shawarma taste.

Simply adorned with shredded lettuce and no sauce the handheld is a tad dry and would need a sauce if eaten solo. I ended up dipping the crispy flaky pastry into the tomato broth and it was a great combination. Not unlike crumbling a package of saltines into a creamy tomato soup.

The restaurant was empty at 11:30 on a weekday but filled up once it struck noon. Yet, with their speedy service, bowls hit the table within 5 minutes of ordering so you can easily get through the meal in under an hour. GunGun’s an ideal inexpensive meal option for those studying, working, or living in the area.  

Toronto’s diversity of Chinese restaurants is increasing. Once primarily populated with Cantonese and Shanghainese style cuisine, there are now so many establishments focused on distinct regions of China. A newcomer is Bao & Broth, which spotlights dishes from the Henan region.

Being one of the northern cities of China, Henan cuisine consists of warm broths and comfort food. At Bao & Broth they focus on both, with of course their bao (Chinese for bun) being a staple item. The four fresh fried bao with shrimp and pork ($10.99) was stuffed with chives, scrambled egg, pork, and a full shrimp, all encapsulated into a thin lightly pan-fried wrapper.

The dough to filling ratio was great with the palm-sized baos only having a thin layer of bun that’s elastic enough to withstand being poked and prodded. Yet, it desperately needed more salt and more cooking time in the pan to really give it a crisp exterior.

Similarly, the rocket leaves mung bean soup noodle ($8.99) was very bland. Such a shame as I rather enjoyed the mixture of vegetables contained in the thick broth. The lack of seasoning could easily be rectified if Bao & Broth just left some salt and soy sauce at the table.

I’d also urge the chef to cook the noodles less as I found the ones in the mung bean soup too soft. Meanwhile, the pasta was perfectly cooked in the Henan braised noodles with pork and veggies ($13.99), wonderfully chewy and having an aromatic wok hay. Unlike the other two dishes, the scallion soy sauce added much needed flavour and even the pork belly slices were previously braised before being stir fried then steamed.

Bao & Broth dining room is small so you may want to go during off hours to avoid waiting. Even during our Tuesday lunch visit, the restaurant was 80% filled before noon. Tables of two, of different ages, sat around chatting while enjoying their soup, noodles, and buns. A comforting sight indeed.

Noodle restaurants seem to be springing up along Midland monthly. Seriously, travel along the street between Finch and Steeles and there are dozens of options. Modu Three Brothers is a newcomer to the crowd offering Chongqing specialties, a large region of China that’s located in the south close to Tibet.

It’s an area where sheep are a popular source of protein. The Chongqing lamb skewers ($5.99 for two) are shallow fried slightly crisping up the crevices and dusted with cumin and chili powder. The bite sized morsels are like a flavourful popcorn lamb, tender and tasty without the gaminess.

Modu’s menu is dominated by noodles with so many choices that choosing between the soup base, protein, and noodle types can be dizzying. We settled on their signature braised beef noodles ($15.99), which reminded me of the Taiwanese/Shanghainese version of the noodles except adorned with crispy fried yellow beans and chives… I enjoyed the freshness of the chives but could do without the oily hard mini chickpeas.  

Modu uses a digitized ordering process where diners scan a QR code at the table. It is helpful for customization requests given we wanted the beef noodles to be a mild spicy level. Our instructions were dutifully followed so despite the savoury broth looking fiery red the spiciness was tame.

For those who don’t want an ounce of heat, the signature freshly boiled chicken soup with noodles ($13.99) features a spice less broth that has a rich chicken taste. It was a tad oily for me but goes well with the noodles and garnishes.

At first, it may seem like the kitchen forgot the chicken but dig to the bottom and you’ll find a handful of chopped pieces. There’s not a lot of fowl and it does include the bones, so if you’re in the mood for big morsels of meat, you’ll want an order of the fried chicken on the side. Any chicken used in this dish is more for flavour than sustenance.

Yet, you’ll never leave Modu hungry as they offer free noodle refills. Simply request an order online and in a few minutes a bowl will arrive (about a cup and a half). Personally, I enjoy my noodles with a springy texture, so I did find Modu’s too soft. If you’re like me, I’d recommend requesting the noodles do be cooked less when ordering.

Torontonians are spoiled with the noodle offerings found across the city. If you don’t want to travel extensively, make your way up to Midland in Scarborough and you can easily create a slurplicious noodle crawl.

I remember when two decades ago being able to tuck into a bowl of fresh noodles was rare. Flash forward to now and hand-pulled noodles are everywhere, restaurants with glass kitchens showcasing a chef who stretches a palm of dough into stringy delights. At First Markham Place, Gol's Lanzhou Noodle offers a staggering nine thicknesses in an airy ornate dining room.

The small portion of their traditional Langzhou hand-pulled noodles ($14.99) was satisfying, but for the hungry, an extra $2 buys you a much larger bowl. Opting for the #3 thickness, which the waiter noted was “regular”, I would consider going down a size as there was a slight sticky afterbite that could be mitigated by a thinner noodle - even though the pasta had a pleasant preliminary mouthful and requisite springy texture.

Aside from the noodle width, diners can also customize the spiciness level and whether it’s garnished with green onion and cilantro (a must in my books to add some freshness to the bowl). Given the northern provinces of China can handle heat, we went with a light spiciness and was presented with something that looked spicy but really had an aromatic quality without the zing.

In retrospect, I could likely handle the regular spiciness as there’s always the option to ask for more broth to dilute the heat. In fact, they seemed very accommodating with any table that just wanted an extra bowl of the soup.

The slices of beef were cut thinly and given it wasn’t overly seasoned became lost amongst the starch and soup. Oh well, I guess the protein isn’t an important factor when it comes to hand-pulled noodles.

With the Langzhou beef chow mein ($15.99), they recommended a thickness between #3 to #5 for the dish. The #5 was too thick and al dante for my tastes, probably #3 would have been just right. Nonetheless, the stir-fried noodles had great wok hay despite there being a scant portion of vegetables and beef.

Perhaps Gol’s most surprising feature was their service: abundantly staffed and extremely attentive… I certainly felt well looked after! They are also expanding quickly through franchising with locations in Waterloo, Montreal, and Winnipeg. One thing’s for sure, it’s no longer difficult to find fresh-made noodles in Canada, so get ready to be pulled in.

Omakase is like the ramen craze from a decade ago. Every season I hear about another Japanese restaurant offering a chef’s menu – some at $100 or less, while others in the hundreds of dollars. It’s difficult to decipher which are good, the options seem endless.

I’ve heard of Sushi Yugen and their $98 main counter omakase and determined it’s a place that maybe I’d visit. It wasn’t until a friend who indulges in a lot of fine dining mentioned the restaurant, giving their chef’s table menu ($275/person) a high recommendation that I finally booked a reservation. And I was not disappointed.

The higher price point gets you into a more intimate room where Master Chef Kyohei Igarashi personally prepares the meal. Igarashi spent 15 years in Japan, learning the craft at high-end sushi and kaiseki places, before finally settling into a Michelin starred restaurant where he spent another seven years.

Indeed, the omakase menu showcases his background, starting off with six kaiseki dishes before the nine pieces of nigiri are presented. He comes out shyly, his accomplishments touted by a translator, and immediately launches into squaring off fish filets so the slices end up all evenly presented amongst the diners.

Our winter menu begins with a hot bowl of broth. Japanese turnip is cooked and then likely pulverized so it melts throughout the soup, causing it to thicken a bit. I would have thought the monk fish liver and leeks would be strong, but somehow the addition of yuzu mellows the ingredients and ties everything together.

Sushi Yugen serves a menu worthy of a Scandinavian spa as it goes from hot to a cold plunge. A bowl of fluke arrives in a beautiful ice dome doused in a special soy-based sauce and covered with black truffle shavings. The delicate white fish allows the truffle’s flavours to be prominently featured. The combination of meaty fish and the fungi’s earthiness is an interesting flavour profile that somehow works.

A bowl of soumen arrives adorn with edible flowers and thinly julienned Japanese ginger, sitting in a three-fish broth (bonito, tuna, sardine). Normally, the bowl of noodles has a deep savoury taste. Sushi Yugen’s still has that element, but the floral and ginger finish gives the silky noodles a bright burst… almost like that pop of basil on a gooey cheesy pizza.

Steaming sauce is brought to the table and quickly ladled into individual bowls to cook the seabream table side and create Yugen’s version of shabu shabu. While the rich soy-based broth was too tad salty to finish, it helped flavour the fish, which was just cooked through remaining flaky and tender. Make sure to use some of the yuzu chili paste, it’s such a great condiment that I want to use on everything.

Being Chinese, I’ve had my fair share of abalone, but having it fresh was a completely different experience. Chef Igarashi trims off the gills and liver, using them to create a thick rich sauce. Meanwhile, the meaty part of the sea creature was simply sliced and more tender and sweeter than my past experiences. We’re advised to leave some of the sauce in the bowl, at which point, Igarashi places some rice so we can mix it into the rich sauce and finish it off.

The uni rice bowl was like an over-the-top seafood risotto, the uni sushi rice adorned with chopped fatty tuna, ringed with briny fish roe, and then topped with caviar. Looking at it, you’d think it would be so rich and decadent, but surprisingly the vinegar in the rice cuts through it to make it lighter than you’d expect, while still having a powerful taste of the sea (in a good way) and a lovely creaminess.

After the last flavourful kaiseki dish, the nigiri begins, but not before a big pile of chopped ginger helps cleanse the palette. Cut into smaller pieces, I enjoyed the little bits that helped provide a refresher without being too much.

The nigiri starts with a piece of filefish (kawahagi) adorned with its liver. It’s meaty and creamy, but also lightened with the heavily vinegared rice that’s made with a combination of three vinegars.

I had the cleanest tasting scallop at Sushi Yugen, it’s sweet without an ounce of gumminess. When pressed, Chef Kyohei Igarashi did explain the three-step process he uses to ensure it’s so silky and fresh. I promised I wouldn’t give away his trade secrets, so you’ll have to ask him yourself.

The saba was flavourful with a pop of freshness, despite not being heavily loaded with green onion and ginger. Left neutral it was still delicious.

A trio of tuna arrives afterwards with the lean akami being marinated so it was flavourful, especially brushed with an extra bit of sauce.

Indeed, the fattier tunas were decadent. I was surprised by how soft and buttery the chutoro was already, to a level that made the otoro seem not as different.

A tray of hot charcoal arrives for the next piece. They are used to sear the top of the nodoguro saikyozuke, a black throat seaperch to crisp up the skin and emit an intoxicating aroma that reminds me of Japanese barbeque. The fish almost has a unagi (eel) consistency, delicate and soft, and very flavourful as it was already marinated in miso, but with a fresher finish.

The anago or conger eel was tasty, but it’s hard to follow the delicious seaperch. Nonetheless, the eel was hot and meaty and has that slight sweetness that’s synonymous with eel without being too sugary.

Yugen’s tamago was cake-like in consistency with an almost savoury finish. I only wish the piece was larger and served warm.

Our meal ends with another bowl of piping hot soup, this time the traditional miso consisting of a rich broth with finely chopped seaweed.

The dessert leans towards kaiseki preparations again. Instead of the typical musk melon, ice cream, or mochi, Yugen presents a beautifully prepared fruit jelly topped with white bean paste dusted with matcha powder and adorned with a salted Sakura flower. What a beautiful finish.

Summing up Igarashi’s menu, I’m impressed by how well he balances rich ingredients to create a dish that still has a freshness to it… I left satisfied but not feeling heavy. Armed with our remaining champagne, we’re invited to their “patio” in the lobby, where we could finish the drinks without being rushed to leave.

In Toronto we’re blessed to have so many omakase options. Sushi Yugen’s is top notch especially for its relatively reasonable price. When is it time to dine at Chef Igarashi’s counter again? I hope soon. 

If mom and pop restaurants are your jam, Yunxi Handmade Noodles will have you swooning as it’s an intimate establishment. Technically, Yunxi would be considered a mom restaurant as the female owner acts as the Jill of all trades: hostess, chef, server, and cleaner. She’s a sweet lady describing what was freshly prepared for the day (in my case, the noodles) as she rotates between making noodles and preparing dumplings daily.

The broth of the braised beef noodles ($14.99) was salty and strong, as one should expect from a dish that’s essentially beef braised in soy sauce. I liked that Yunxi finishes the freshly made noodles in the soup to allow it to soak in flavours and develop a brownish tint. While there wasn’t a whole lot of beef, the handful of chunks were lean and tender.

Halfway through the meal, the owner returns with a small bowl of extra noodles, asking if we’d like a complementary top-up. Why of course, and into the bowl they go for round two.

My first choice in dumplings (leek, shrimp, and pork) was sold out so we opted for the chicken and mushroom instead ($10.99 for 12). With a choice of preparation - steamed, boiled, or pan fried – I generally order them steamed as I find this leaves the dumplings the most neutral so you can appreciate the filling’s flavours and the consistency of the wrapper.

Unlike the noodles, the dumplings were made previously (at least a couple of days prior) so the wrapper was too hard and chewy. Consequently, I’d recommend asking the owner when things were prepared and if it isn’t fresh, order the dumplings boiled to give the wrapper some extra hydration.

At least the filling was juicy – use a spoon to ensure the juices aren’t lost as they squirt out – and the dumplings were filled with a decent portion of the well seasoned, finely minced chicken and mushrooms.

Yunxi Handmade Noodles is a bit of a hole-in-the-wall: the décor is sparse and the communal steel spoons housed at each table seem unhygienic. Luckily, larger ladles were given after serving the braised noodles so we didn’t need to rely on the dubious spoons. Yet, what Yunxi lacks was more than made up by the friendly owner and the wonderful noodles, a definite highlight to our meal. 

Gathering dishes from across the country, MIMI Chinese's menu showcases the different flavours and ingredients in China's Sichuan, Guangdong, Hunan, Shaanxi, and Canton provinces. Think of it as a crash course on figuring out what you like as you dig into the fiery chilies of Sichuan or the saucier multi-flavour dishes from Guangdong. The educational experience is held in a dark dining room on comfortable plush banquettes with dishes featuring traditional spices and preparations so you can expect to taste authentic interpretations.

The crossed arm dumplings in red oil ($26) may sound like a starter for grumpy old men, but is named after the way the  wonton wrappers are folded and the two tips meet. Having made many dumplings in my youth, this style is much quicker to prepare, compared to the pleated variety, and also allows more filling to be used.  

Indeed, each thumb length dumpling at MIMI was stuffed with plenty of the pork and scallion mixture, which could have used more seasonings such as Shaoxing wine, sesame oil, or soy sauce. Maybe it's due to the thicker wrappers or there not being much heat within the "red oil" condiment, but the dish was rather devoid of flavours despite the colourful look. The oil is described as roasted chicken oil, which leads me to believe they use the leftover oil from deep frying chickens to make this condiment, something that sounds great in theory. In reality, it doesn't add much additional flavour and really the oil could benefit from more chilies and something pungent like shallots. 

I can't recall that last time I had shrimp toast ($21 for four pieces; $5.50 for extras), but I must have been young as this dish has been removed from dim sum menus as customers become more health cautious. Pieces of soft white bread sandwich a mild shrimp paste and is deep fried and topped with a sesame crust. The crispy toast was bang on - the crunchy exterior and slight leak of oil is reminiscent of childhood memories. 

Since MIMI uses two pieces of bread (restaurants previously used an open-faced sandwich format), the carbs did drown out the shrimp taste. The toast could benefit from more filling or incorporating pieces of diced shrimp in order to give it a stronger seafood essence. 

The scallion and ginger sea bass ($59) uses white leek but lacks ginger making it a fairly neutral main. The soy sauce and scallion oil is poured table side instead of directly from wok to dish, which while nice for presentation purposes, means it lacks the "scalding" properties that crisps the skin a bit and causes the sauce to more deeply permeate the meat. All in all, it was a pretty plain tasting dish and is for those who really want to enjoy the fish's flavours - at least it was well cleaned and tasted fresh. 

For those who are afraid of bones, this dish is perfect as everything is pretty much removed (all I found was one really thin small piece). While the lack of bones makes it much easier to eat, it does mean the fish cools quicker, so be sure to tuck into it right after the sauce is poured.  

Presented at the table with a flourish was the four foot belt noodle ($26), stretched to showcase its length before being cut into more manageable two inch segments. While not a terrible dish, the noodle could be thinner as we found it a tad chewy and the sauce needed something else for interest. Although the noodle was covered with a fair amount of chili oil, a salty richer flavour like bean paste or a complex XO sauce would have been a great addition. 

I preferred the supreme fried rice ($28), filled with umami flavours thanks to the dried scallop, salted egg, and lap cheong sausage. These ingredients do make the rice a tad dry, which MIMI ties to combat by adding diced vegetables and scallions into the dish. Really, I think if there was just more rice to mix with all the other ingredients it would provided the needed moisture.

Their vegetable dishes are fairly plain (stir fried gai lan or cabbage), we decided to try the chilled pumpkin and snow melon ($10), which are ribbons of the squashes tossed with Shaoxing broth. For those who can't handle spice, this would help counteract the heat of other dishes. For us, we found it almost seemed out of place and dessert-like due to the sweet after taste.

Be sure to listen to their feature dishes, we ordered both and they were my favourite of the evening. 

The Cantonese chicken ($28) is your traditional fried chicken with shrimp chips. It was executed perfectly at MIMI: the skin delicate and crispy, the meat very juicy, and there wasn't an ounce of pink on the bone (something that can be found at Chinese restaurants and make some squeamish).

I loved how the kitchen took the razor clams ($26) and chopped it to pieces and mixed it with wine, garlic, vermicelli, and other herbs before steaming the crustacean. With each bite you get different flavours and textures, a lovely seafood special. 

Being Chinese, I'm probably more difficult to impress as I've had so many experiences in my lifetime that there's often a comparable or better version of a dish previously eaten. While some dishes were a little bland for my taste, how the ingredients were prepared and the dishes executed were fantastic. What is also great about MIMI is their approachability and friendly service, a quality that can sometimes be lacking at Chinese restaurants.   

I can already imagine the pundits' responses: there's nothing special about the dishes and you can find them cheaper elsewhere. There is truth to this statement, the dishes aren't "westernized" and presented in the traditional format, albeit with more attention to plating. And the menu prices are much higher than the casual family establishments and still more than the banquet style restaurants. However, applaud MIMI for keeping with traditions and to allow customers, who may be hesitant to visit a Chinese restaurant, to try dishes that are not the General Tao variety they might have otherwise. As for the prices, just be mindful about their Yorkville rent and the higher labour costs (there were a lot of servers, all of whom are fluent in English). 

MIMI likely won't be the place your mom, dad, or grandparents will be love, but it is where you bring your friends who want to expand their taste bud experience beyond the Cantonese-focused menus that are typical in Toronto. It's where they will be able to try items from a variety of regions and they won't need your help interpreting the menu or translating. All you need to do is sit back, relax, and eat.