There's something about Little Italy that still draws me in after all these years. It has an effortlessly lively energy where everyone seems to be gathered on a patio. During FIFA, the neighbourhood becomes even more animated, even on nights when no one is actually playing.

Tucked just off bustling College Street is Casa Paco, a charming restaurant that feels like you're being welcomed into someone's home. They now offer two tasting menus: a more elaborate chef's menu in the dining room and a shorter experience at the bar.

The five-course chef’s menu ($145 per person) offers plenty of food, enough to leave you fully satisfied. Still, the restaurant also offers a few additions if you want to augment the experience.

We added their signature Rubia Gallega ($28), a labour-intensive dish that Chef Chinery and Chef Bragagnolo have considered removing from the menu more than once, only to keep it because diners love it so much.

Using Ontario wagyu, they cure the beef in house for nine months until it develops an incredible natural sweetness that's unlike anything I've tasted. These paper-thin slices are finished with creamy burrata and fresh truffle for an extra touch of decadence. Layered onto the airy crackers, everything comes together in one cohesive bite that's sweet, savoury, creamy, crunchy, and packed with umami.

Oh, and those darker hues along the edges of the meat? Rest assured, it's not mold. Rather, it's from the truffle wash they use to finish the beef.

The chef's menu begins with a trio of snacks to whet the appetite. The meaty boquerones started to lean a little fishy when eaten on their own, but the tangy sea asparagus balanced everything out, adding a lovely fresh crunch against the white anchovy. It also paired beautifully with the tomato bread, which was exquisite thanks to beautifully ripe tomatoes.

The only bite I didn't really sample was the octopus carpaccio, which I've sadly lost my taste for after learning more about these brilliant, misunderstood creatures. My husband, however, assured me it was delicious.

Seafood reigns supreme on Casa Paco's menu, and we were lucky enough to visit while the last of the B.C. spot prawns were still available. As always, they were wonderfully sweet with that firm yet delicate texture that makes them so sought after. They're served with a well-seasoned chilled baby gem soup that looks like wheatgrass but tastes nothing like it. I only wish there had been more of the smoked cucumber, which added such a wonderful crunch against the silky purée.

Even their heirloom tomato salad gets a kiss of the sea with cubes of bluefin tuna scattered throughout. I'll admit, I never imagined pairing tuna with strawberries, and I'm not sure I'd do it again. It's not that the combination is bad, but the two ingredients don't really complement each other either. Something lighter, like scallops, might have been a better match.

It almost felt like Casa Paco was serving all my favourite ingredients, as my eyes immediately lit up when the zucchini blossom arrived, something I always look forward to eating but would never attempt to make myself. Stuffed with a scallop and lobster mousse, the blossom can be enjoyed on its own or elevated even further with the intensely flavourful lobster emulsion, which tastes like a lobster bisque crossed with hollandaise.

Before we could even finish the dish, a plate of socarrat arrived. The rice cooked in a seafood stock and enhanced with a the flavourful oily sobrassada.

Once it was scraped up, we’re told to take the toasted crispy rice and mix it into the remaining lobster emulsion. What a fantastic idea. It immediately made me regret not leaving more sauce behind. It was so good that it convinced me I need to return for Casa Paco's Sunday paella nights.

For the main course, diners choose between a fish or steak to share. We kept the seafood theme going with the Dover sole, which is carefully deboned, brined, grilled, and filleted for sharing. It arrives with a Basque pil-pil sauce made from the fish bones, cod, and aromatics before being emulsified with olive oil into a silky, almost velvety sauce. Such a shame the dish wasn’t accompanied by a piece of toasted bread for mopping up every last drop.

Having been brined, I found the fish just a touch salty on its own. Thankfully, bites of the accompanying radicchio salad balanced things nicely. Either the vinaigrette or another ingredient lent the salad a subtle licorice flavour that I normally wouldn't enjoy, yet somehow it really worked here.

Before dessert, a simple raspberry ice palate cleanser arrives.

Which leads me to point out that the chef's menu doesn't include dessert. Consequently, if you're craving something sweet, you'll want to add one to finish the meal.

The coffee and cardamom cheesecake ($18) is more than enough for two to share. Casa Paco's Basque cheesecake is lightly burnt, fairly dense, yet wonderfully creamy. The coffee flavour comes through clearly, while the cardamom leaves a subtle warmth that gently tingles on the finish. Very interesting indeed.

For an even richer ending, the chocolate and olive oil truffle ($16) is a solid log of silky dark chocolate ganache that practically melts on the tongue. It's only lightly sweetened, making it surprisingly balanced, and pairs beautifully with the cheesecake if you want to mix and match bites.

Unlike the aperitif selection, the digestif menu isn't printed because their amaro selection of roughly 100 bottles is constantly changing. You'll simply have to trust Gary Danaie, their sommelier, to find the right one for you. After my husband mentioned that he normally enjoys cognac, grappa, and Scotch, Gary recommended the Ximenez Spinola 2018 Battonage ($22). He absolutely nailed it. The spirit carried the richness of cognac, a touch of grappa's bite, and somehow finished with lingering caramel sweetness.

Since joining the restaurant in June 2025, Gary has dramatically expanded the wine program from my previous visit. Focusing on Spanish and Italian wines, he has an infectious passion for explaining every bottle. We sampled several grape varieties we'd never even heard of before and thoroughly enjoyed the experience ($85 for the wine pairing).

Even more impressive is that Gary is the restaurant's only employee. The other four people you'll see working throughout the evening are all owners and founders: Chef Chinery and Chef Bragagnolo in the kitchen, Tommy Conrad behind the bar, and Ailbhe McMahon leading the front of house.

All five jump in wherever needed, serving dishes, clearing plates, checking on guests, and keeping the restaurant running. The downside is that, with only one seating each evening, dinner unfolds at a leisurely pace. Our five-course menu with an add-on and dessert stretched to three-and-a-half hours. Antsy diners who struggle to sit still have been warned.

Restaurants often talk about hospitality, but Casa Paco genuinely lives it. With every owner contributing to the experience and Gary guiding diners through an exceptional wine program, the restaurant feels remarkably personal. It's the sort of place you settle into for the night rather than simply dine at.

While Es Ventall is set within the city limits of Sant Antoni, walk into the restaurant and you’re transported into an idyllic oasis especially while dining al fresco. Sitting in the courtyard is oddly calming, amongst nature and the enormous fig tree, giving the establishment a charm that’s difficult to replicate elsewhere.  

For diners who aren’t familiar with Ibizan cuisine, Es Ventall’s menu is descriptive listing out the individual ingredients and eliciting a sense of excitement to see how things tie together. The Ibizan tomatoes salad (19€) starts with a bed of ripe chopped tomatoes and tops it with a full burrata, which when broken creates a creaminess to the dish. Strawberries and basil add an interesting refreshing element, but I would have skipped the crunchy pistachios that detract from the silkiness of the salad.

I can’t turn down trying a roasted aubergine (17€), which when done well takes the spongy eggplant and turns it into a creamy concoction. Es Ventall whole roasts the vegetable until it’s soft but still holds its shape and smears a sugary praline and fruit mixture on top. The dish is too dessert-like for me, I wish the praline spread was replaced with something savoury that would go better with the basil cream.

Our waiter describes the tomato and grilled prawn salad (26€) as being smaller, which is an understatement as the dish is truly skimpy. To call the crustaceans on the plate as grilled “prawns” is misleading, the thumb sized items are spot prawn sized, which are generally served by the half cup than individually. These Ibiza prawns are equally sweet, but given their petite size, the chef really needs to give more of these on the plate or at least leave them in the shell.

At the very least, serve the “prawns” with more than a scant quartered tomato, crème fraiche, and an oil sorbet that while adds a lovely richness, melts into nothingness. For the price, this dish needs more tomatoes, other vegetables, and a helping of grilled crostini to swipe up the sauces.

We didn’t order the cuttlefish and Ibiza prawns’ paella with aioli (24€ per serving; a three serving portion pictured below), but the kitchen mistakenly mixed up our order with another table, so we ended up having it as our main. While the dish had a lovely aroma, the rice was awfully salty reminding me of the soy sauce tasting concoction I had in Barcelona a decade earlier. Perhaps this is the traditional way of preparing paella, but the saltiness is so pungent that it detracts from the seafood and the rice becomes saturated in sauce that there’s no crispy bottom. This paella was a bust.

It's a shame, as I had really wanted to try the fideua, a dish that’s made paella style but switches out the rice for pasta instead. For one, it’s rarely seen elsewhere, and I love trying new creations. Alas, the humid August heat was getting to us and despite the miniscule starters our hunger simply went away. Sitting al fresco may be idyllic and romantic but give me air conditioning instead. 

Dinner at Tapagria Spanish Tapas Restaurant happened on their patio, where they transformed the parking lot as much as possible by covering a section with AstroTurf, a tarp, and string lights. The simple tables weren’t fancy, but the ones found outside at restaurants in Barcelona aren’t either - try to block out the cars and imagine yourself surrounded by the historical architecture of Spain.

Perhaps think of it as being on La Rambla where it’s crowded, hectic, and there’s tons of kitschy things happening on the iconic street. And like a La Rambla restaurant, which is typically geared towards tourists, you’ll find an extensive menu of Spanish favourites at Tapagria: pintxos (small sandwich bites), tapas (different small dishes), larger sharing plates, and paella (a rice popular rice dish that is made to be shared).

While waiting the 45 minutes for a paella, it’s important to get a few small bites to tide the stomach over. The truffle paste and Manchego pintxos ($12) was a strongly flavoured bite with the truffle dominating against the delicate toast and the buttery cheese binding things together. It’s tasty but given its powerful flavour is best eaten last amongst the sandwiches.

Surprisingly, for something that’s cooked in fat the duck confit pintxos ($14) were a little dry. Tapagria puts a dollop of mango chutney on top - a nice pairing with the fowl – but there wasn’t much of the condiment, so it didn’t really hydrate or flavour much. Perhaps a drizzle along with a condensed red wine reduction would help to give this pintxo some pizazz.

I enjoyed the nice creamy texture of the jamon croquettas ($12) but found the varying pieces of ham mixed in them confusing – one bite included diced pieces, so it was almost like having a croquette with sweeter chorizo, while another had pulled pieces. Truthfully, I was expecting slivers of thinly sliced jamon to be ribboned amongst the silky potatoes. Nonetheless, the dish’s flavours were on point.

Still, the paella de Tapagria ($56) was the star of the show. It’s a creation that can’t be rushed as you want to let it sit until there’s a bit of a crust on the bottom. While it wasn’t covered with a lot of ingredients, there was enough shrimp, squid, clams, chorizo, and chicken to go with the shallow flavourful rice. Some reviews claim it’s too salty, but I found it be seasoned nicely and like the hint of chili that makes an appearance. 

The caramel flan ($12) was very thick, possibly from the Spanish recipe incorporating condensed milk compared to the whole milk that’s used in French crème caramel. It feels like you’re eating a cheesecake (without the cheese flavours) that’s covered in a thinned caramel sauce. While not necessarily terrible, I do prefer the delicate crème caramel consistency and will stick with the churros or Spanish toast next time.

The most important part of the meal is to just take your time with it … arguably this may be difficult with the one and a half hour seating limits, but during our dinner wasn’t actually enforced. It’s the conversation over sips of wine and bites of food that really creates the Spanish experience and that is well within your control.