In our search for a post-show dinner near Comedy Bar, we stumbled upon La Bella Managua by chance. Thankfully, we thought to make reservations, because it quickly became clear this is a neighbourhood favourite.

The space isn’t fancy, more diner-like, but the aromas coming from the kitchen are incredible. Watching generous plates pass by only made ordering harder. By the time we decided, I was fully hungry and ready to dig in. Luckily, both the drinks and food arrived quickly.

The mixed ceviche ($18.95) combines shrimp and fish tossed with peppers, onion, and cilantro, served alongside avocado and plantain chips. The acidity is well balanced, so it’s not overly citrusy. That said, I would’ve liked more fish, as the shrimp dominates the dish.

If you’re dining with a group, the yucca mixta ($21.50), typically a main, works perfectly as a shared starter. The fried cheese is reminiscent of mozzarella sticks, but better, with a higher cheese-to-batter ratio. The crispy yucca is addictive, especially dipped into the onion sauce, which adds a refreshing tang. Even the avocado salad was a hit and was as a great way to finish off the plantain chips from the ceviche.

Ordering a Cajun shrimp stir fry ($25.95) at a Nicaraguan restaurant felt strange, but it worked. The dish blends a lightly spiced teriyaki sauce with creamy avocado, giving it a unique, almost Nikkei-style twist. The shrimp were plump and perfectly cooked, and the rice soaked up the sauce without becoming too salty. There’s even a surprising hint of wok hay that could rival some Cantonese spots.

The churrasco ($32.95) is ideal for a solo diner. The beef tenderloin tips were grilled to a perfect medium rare. While the meat itself is fairly mild, the thick chimichurri adds plenty of flavour. Paired with roasted garlic mashed potatoes and a generous serving of vegetables, it’s a well-balanced plate.

Whatever you do, don’t skip dessert. La Bella’s flan Napolitano ($7.95) is fantastic, with a custard that’s firm enough to hold its shape yet still smooth and creamy. The caramel is light and fluid, adding sweetness without becoming sticky. Flan fans you better fly over to try this.

The three milk cake ($8.50) is equally impressive. It’s fully soaked, rich, and indulgent without crossing into overly sweet territory. I genuinely couldn’t decide which dessert I preferred. Both are worth ordering.

As mentioned, reservations are highly recommended. Despite how busy it gets, the small team runs the dining room with impressive efficiency, making sure guests are well taken care of. With generous portions, affordable pricing, and vibrant flavours, La Bella Managua feels like a rare find. As my first experience with Nicaraguan cuisine, I was struck by the balance of hearty staples like rice, plantain, and yucca with fresh vegetables and proteins, all shaped by Mexican and Spanish influences with its own distinct flair.

La Bella Managua delivers a lively, flavour-packed experience without the frills. Between the generous portions, standout desserts, and efficient service, it’s an easy recommendation, especially if you’re catching a show nearby.

Ficoa’s 8-course tasting menu ($120 per person) aims to feature Latin American dishes with an elevated flair.  They also operate under an ethos of achieving “zero waste” in using leftovers from an ingredient within other dishes, such as in a sauce or garnish.

The meal started with a flavour bomb, a celeriac truffle soup where the root vegetable was pureed into a creamy finish and topped with an intense fermented chili that added a delicious kick. Table side, they spoon on a truffle foam that was way too salty but gave it a decadent touch.

Since the soup was so intensely flavoured the trio of small bites that followed seemed tasteless in comparison:

• I would have thought the braised short rib empanada would be rich and hearty topped with queso cotija and crema. Yet, if anything what stood out the most was the corn masa shell, which was crispy, airy, and light.
• If you like arancini you’ll love molote that takes mashed plantain and stuffs it with cheese, then deep fries the ball. It’s sweet and gooey making an interesting bite. It just needed more of the smoky salsa tatemada to bring out the savoury aspect of the canapé.
• The seabass ceviche tostada was nicely balanced, not overly acidic and incorporating creamier elements like cotija cheese and a dollop of salmon roe. In fact, I wish the tasting menu featured more seafood instead of the plethora of fowl.

It starts with the duck confit taco, which I had high hopes for as I love duck confit. Instead, the small palm sized shell made it messy to eat and the actual confit feel flat, seemingly sous vide rather than slow cooked in fat to give it richness. The habanero salsa was a good idea holding up against the fowl, if only the duck was more pronounced.

This is followed by turkey enmolada where its base seems like a rehash of the taco. The sous vide turkey didn’t taste that different from the duck, but the shell was much bigger and smothered in a fiery almendrado mole.  My advice, keep this dish and change the taco into something vegetable (cactus, mushroom, and/or corn) or seafood based instead.

Even the final main features chicken. The mishmash of an individual plate and family style dishes initially threw me off for the last savoury course. We’re each presented with a plate of flat iron wagyu that was a bit overcooked but topped with a vibrant chimichurri. Once again, the seasoning was off as all the elements on the plate were heavily salted. In comparison, the family style dishes were rather neutral; a blessing as the Mexican rice and salad helped pacify any saltiness.

Despite having my fill with fowl, the citrus chicken is a keeper. I liked that they deboned the dark meat to make a rullar. Plus, the citrus, chili, and herb seasoning created a great summery taste. And if you’re hungry, you won’t be after the main as each duo received a sizeable plate of chicken to share.

Up until this point, I haven’t mentioned their wine pairing ($80 per person), which featured a mix of lighter European wines that went nicely with the spiciness of the food. Just don’t expect a sommelier level of expertise with the pairings as the hostess also does triple duty as being a server and drink specialist. Still, despite not always knowing much about the winery itself (we were excited when told a bottle originated from the Maldives, only to find it’s from Italy) her choices for each course were solid. And knowing we weren’t a fan of sweet wines, even the dessert option was tamer having a sweet edge without becoming sugary.

The dessert wine paired particularly well with the mango sorbet palette cleanser that was whimsically made into a lollipop that you can dip into Tajin to add a savoury element.

The tres leches de café dessert was a hit; the moist milky cake incorporated a hit of coffee and chocolate pieces creating a tiramisu-like dessert. Who doesn’t like tres leches and tiramisu? 

And to end, a plate of petit fours featuring a delicious crispy bite of chocolate churro that must be enlarged, a buttery delicate alfajaro, and a moist crumbly classic cocada that’s ideal for those who love coconut.

As tasting menus go, Ficoa’s needs work to create more variety and properly ordering dishes so that intensely flavourful ones aren’t served before more neutral features. The format has already changed a couple of times since their opening in 2024, so who knows if this will be the last rendition.

The middling food aside, I appreciate Ficoa’s dedication to service. Due to miscommunications, I had to increase my reservation at the time of the meal, and they were able to accommodate. They even printed an extra copy of the customized menu for the additional guest, which was a nice touch.

Plus, its one of the first restaurants that builds the wine pairing around a guest’s preferences. A pairing without chardonnay? Muchas gracias!

I wonder if I’m judging aKin harder than similar restaurants because I’m Chinese. You won’t find me complaining about the price of the Lunar New Year tasting menu ($275 per person) or the portion sizes because I agree that Chinese cuisine is just as intricate to prepare as any other country. And it should be given the same level of recognition as other tasting menus.

aKin’s menu isn’t purely Chinese. Dishes also include Japanese, European, and other Asian influences. Yet, there’s also a host of dishes Ihave grow n-up eating and therefore can’t help but compare. Still, after discussing the dilemma with my fellow diner and reflecting on the experience, I feel the mark is justified.

Starting with the auspicious vegetables, where I found the collection of small bites a bit fussy. With five items, there were a lot of dishes so it may be better served as a platter (like a BBQ starter), in keeping with the Cantonese theme. We’re advised it’s a nod to Buddhist traditions, even though they’re dishes monks hardly consume. And while I do appreciate restaurants becoming more plant-forward, aKin’s dishes fell flat:

• Don’t bother smelling the celery martini, it smells like earth. At least it did its job: the light tomato consommé with a drizzle of watercress oil was a refreshing palette awakener.  
• The heirloom carrot was too flaccid to pick up making it awkward to eat. Yes, the black garlic and tempura bits added crunch, but not enough structure to ensure it’s a handheld bite. I see this working as a garnish.
• A similar story with the lettuce cone, the delicate shell was starting to get soggy. So, I quickly popped it in my mouth to get a salty juicy blast.
• Of all the canapes, the scallion tart was my favourite. The XO sauce mushroom centre topped with Emmental foam was flavourful and a nice combination of textures.

The leek crystal bread, aKin’s take on a fried dough stick, was an intriguing canape. It’s certainly the most difficult to make, a clear paper-thin crunchy exterior with a hollow centre. But this is not the same as a yau tew, which has a webbed interior so there are layers. If aKin could add a few layers inside, or better yet something chewy at the centre, it may help give it more textual interest as it’s currently like a cylindrical cracker. Of course, topping the creation with Perigord black truffles adds a decadent touch.

Yet, anything would be 100x better than the oyster. Every bite of it was wrong. From the harshly alcoholic Prosecco foam, the lack of natural brininess, to the extremely fishy finish… from the oyster, caviar, or fat choy, who knows? Regardless, it had us chugging water to get rid of the awful after taste. I understand an oyster is a key ingredient to any Lunar New Year menu, but if an oyster isn’t fresh, it’s better cooked and masked with stronger garnishes.

To signify togetherness, aKin served scallop in sashimi and ceviche form. Other than the two dishes arriving on top of each other, it missed its mark. If I were to create a dish that was going to represent togetherness, they should have made something that is tasted separately and then combined to really wow the palette.

As is stands, the red chili flakes overpowered the sashimi, completely masking the natural sweetness of the shellfish. An ingredient like a surf clam may hold up better against that much heat. The spiciness continued into the ceviche, but at least this was balanced by coconut milk and other Thai flavours, which complimented the ingredient.

After the first three dismal dishes, I was getting worried. And that’s when Chef Eric Chong appeared to present a dish of nostalgia, explaining it reminds him of the slowly steamed chicken soup of his youth. Of course, his version gets a molecular touch encapsulated into a sphere that we’re told should be eaten quickly while at the optimal temperature. And boy was it heavenly. Once my mouth fully closed around the bite and the spoon was removed, the burst of hot but not scalding consommé flooded my mouth with a rich umami essence. The little bites of bean curd noodles gave it some texture. The meal was finally making a comeback.

The chawanmushi continued to impress. The steamed egg studded with diced butter poached abalone, charbroiled kombu, and topped with a red vinegar foam to lighten the rich dish. There’s a silkiness to it that reminded me of a rich fish maw soup and was a wonderful combination of Asian and European elements.

I thoroughly enjoyed the well toasted steamed bao in the bread course. We’re instructed to rip the bun and spread the lap cheung hollandaise sauce onto the bread. The scalding oil made ripping difficult, I somehow managed and was treated to a lovely creamy savoury sauce, which could be balanced by the refreshing kimchi style daikon ribbons.

While the ginger scallion fumet (a concentrated fish stock) was very salty – bordering on bitter when tasted solo – combined with the amadai it was perfect. Flakey with a crispy skin, the thick piece of fish was kept neutral as the fumet was all it required.

I’m glad they picked a stronger ingredient like lobster to go with the powerful laksa. aKin’s interpretation of laksa had the heat but was more restrained and still very creamy. I savoured it by the spoonful.

While I enjoyed the dish, I feel the silver needle noodles were a bad pairing. They probably chose the hand rolled noodles because it’s different and requires effort to prepare, sort of like gnocchi. However, the point of a noodle dish is to signify longevity. Are small stunted, sharp-edged noodles really the greatest representation? A flat hand-pulled noodle would work better, kept as a long strand (i.e., a long life) and would also help the laksa stick.

A piece of deboned and stuffed fowl gets me excited. So, upon seeing the 8-treasure pigeon, the dish had me ready to dig in. Rather than mixing the ingredients, aKin created a paste with chestnut, lotus seed, barley, and salted duck egg to stuff into the leg. It was nicely flavoured, but the softness also meant a lack of texture.

Overall, the pigeon’s skin needed to be crispier, as a textural contrast for the leg and especially with the breast, which is served plain. And while I enjoyed the side of sticky rice, it wasn’t overly exciting. It was a missed opportunity to wrap the grain in lotus leaf or an edible collard green, which would provide the dish colour and extra boost of something aromatic. At least the Jinhua ham au jus was delicious, I swiped up every drop of the sauce.

Being a blind tasting, I couldn’t tell where we were in the dinner. Since the meal is described as 10-courses, I thought the following mango pudding was the last item and our dessert. The rich pudding augmented with coconut cream, pomelo and sago was good but would have been disappointing as a lone dessert. Luckily, this course acted as a palette cleanser as there were plenty of sweets to come.

It wouldn’t be Lunar New Year without a tang yuan or glutinous rice balls. Chef Chong morphed theirs into a stunning fortune bag that’s an inside out version of the dessert. The chewy glutinous rice was found in the handle and the centre... all surrounded by a fluffy black sesame mousse wrapped in fondant. A much more impressive ending.

At this point, we were satisfied but not full. This quickly changed with the platter of lunar treasures. While the egg tart was mediocre, the other items were tasty. The macaron had a crispy exterior and a hawthorn taste reminding me of the pay pa muy candies of my childhood. The chocolate and milk tea canelé screamed of flavours in the airy pastry. And the mandarin jelly a wonderful refreshing finish.

We’re even given a to-go bag containing a Singapore crunch that we’re instructed to add to noodles, rice, vegetables, or even buttered toast. I’ll admit, this had me rethinking my meals for the upcoming week and ended up trying the sweet and crunchy topping on crispy noodles. It’s fine, but I still rather use sambal any day.

After all this, let’s circle back to my mark on the dinner. I really wanted to see if aKin could be an 8. But with the weak opening dishes and the satisfactory but not wonderful final savoury course, I really can’t say it’s an experience I’d recommend. And while my first instinct was to grade it as a 7, I ultimately settled on a 7.5, let’s say it’s a little something to combat my potential bias of being Chinese. 

Even after dining at Soluna, I’m still not sure how to best describe the restaurant. They call themselves as a “Miami meets Tulum-inspired supper club”. And while the entrance screams Mexican, everything else says they’re inspired by more than Tulum.

Starting with the Toronto Life Insider tasting menu ($120 per person). Sure, there were some Mexican dishes from Chef Ricardo Dominguez’s background, but it also showcased Mediterranean, Thailand, and Latin American dishes as well. Ultimately, it was a collection of dishes with bold flavours. Note: regular menu prices have been included in this post.

The spicy crudo ($29) was one of those powerful dishes. Starting with the rub on the seared tenderloin encompassing smoky and salty flavours, but then it’s combined with a spicy habanero mole sauce as well. It was so overpowering that the dish really needed a neutral ingredient to balance it out. The avocado was a start, but even some lettuce wraps to go with steak would be nice.

Normally labneh ($18) has such a fresh creamy element to it, but the Kalamata olive tapenade and za’atar splashed on top made it so salty that the yoghurt became secondary. A little goes a long way on a piece pita or crostini. More sliced vegetables could help mellow out the saltiness of the dip.

I wish I had the Peruvian ceviche ($25) first as after the other two starters all the delicate flavours of the seafood became lost. Such a shame as the dish had the right elements like fresh pieces of fruit (watermelon and goose berries) as well as Asian inspired flavours from the yuzu and sesame oil. Comparatively, it tasted muted and seemed to need more salt, some of which was supplied by the delicious crispy taro chips.

The refreshing Mediterranean salad ($16) was a welcomed dish to follow. The lettuce, cucumber, and tomato mixture dressed in a vibrant red gazpacho that created a deliciously different take on the typical Greek salad.

That brightness was a good pairing for the Thai shrimp ($25), which seemed out-of-place on the menu. You really can’t go wrong with crispy fried shrimp - it’s something crowds will like - but I can’t say the curry sauce and compressed pineapple complimented it well. If anything, I would have liked a jazzed up pico di gallo or tomatillo salsa with the seafood instead.

It is nice to see all the vegetarian options available on Soluna’s menu. A similar fried plant-based starter would be their cauliflower ($21), encrusted in a gluten-free batter and served with a delicious pumpkin sauce. If they were cut into smaller florets and fried longer (to the crispness of the Thai shrimp), it would have brought the dish up to another level.

Once we got to the mains, Chef Ricardo treated us to an off-menu item - duck tacos. I wouldn’t have called it a taco, may a non-crispy flauta. The flour tortilla was stuffed with a Peking duck-style pulled confit so that every bite was filled with the fowl. While it’s tasty, I would have liked something crunchy and fresh to balance out the roll. Maybe julienned cucumbers, carrots, and scallions (if we’re following the Peking duck flavours) or julienned jicama, scallions, and cactus (for more Mexican flavours).

The striploin was cooked well, topped with melted miso butter with a side of puffed potatoes (a cross between roasted potatoes and chips) and serrano aioli. It’s a solid meat and potatoes dish but doesn’t really feel unique.

Yet, if you’re out for dinner with someone who can’t handle the spice, sharing one of Soluna’s steaks is a good idea. Perhaps paired with the well-roasted broccolini ($11) and uber crispy fingerling potatoes ($11). Together, the dishes can rival what’s found at steakhouses.

For me, I enjoy different flavours and once you slather the adobo sauce onto the branzino ($59), it really wakes up the neutral fish. Only the pineapple salsa wasn’t sitting well, a bit too sweet against the flaky fish. Sub the pineapple for a something savoury and crisp up the branzino’s skin and this would be a great dish.  

Get an order of the tres leche ($15) … it’s heavenly. The soft soaked sponge cake enhanced with an espresso meringue and coffee whipped cream so there’s a tiramisu taste. It’s a shareable dessert, but why would you want to?

Meanwhile, the passion fruit tart ($15) is much harder to divvy up as the crispy shell crumbles causing the custard to leak out. While it’s an impressive looking dessert - served in a smoked filled dome that’s theatrically lifted at the table – it tastes like a run-of-the-mill tart.

Still, that was way better than the Caissis cloud, a dessert I could only have one bite. It’s an acquired taste… perhaps liked by those who enjoy chocolate and fruit combinations. For me, the chocolate raspberry mousse studded with brownie chunks and fruit (something tasting like Brookside dark chocolate covered açai blueberries) was strange.

While the food is a bit of a hit and a miss, Soluna makes up for with its vibe. The dining room is beautiful and there’s a festive feeling to dining there. There are no boring dinners here, even during a Wednesday evening they pushed away tables to host a salsa dancing class. For those who prefer to stay in their seats, they also had two seductively dancing girls performing periodically.

If I had to describe Soluna, it’s like a restaurant you would find at a tropical resort. Not necessarily traditional, but you’ll have fun or at the very least be momentarily transported somewhere else. 

Want to become a Toronto Life Member? If this event sounded great, don't miss out on the fun. Toronto Life is providing Gastro World readers a $25 off discount code to become a member!

Just use discount code GASTROWORLD at the Toronto Life Member checkout and the discount will be automatically applied.

• Anything under 5 - I really disliked and will never go back
• 6 - decent restaurant but I likely won't return
• 7 - decent restaurant and I will likely return
• 8 - great restaurant that I'd be happy to recommend
• 9 - fantastic restaurant that I would love to visit regularly and highly recommend
• 10 - absolute perfection!

• Quetzal
• Roses Cocina