There’s been significant press for LSL (Leroy, Saito and Le Squer) so my post isn’t going to re-hash the pedigree of the restaurant with three Michelin chefs at it’s helm. If you’re interested in learning more about these aspects, read Toronto Life, which wrote a very in-depth article.

Even before stepping into the restaurant, I received a text from Matthieu, their maître d’, inquiring about celebrations or food aversions. It’s reminiscent of an Eleven Madison experience, except Matthieu’s message was punctuated with an emoticon so there was a polished but friendly-casual quality to the interaction.

The experience continued at the restaurant, each team member introducing themselves by name as they welcomed, took our jackets, and led us to our seats. The introductions and casual banter put us at east to strike up conversations… the once quiet dining room was soon buzzing by the end of the first course.

Their 9-course tasting menu ($680 per person) started with a trio of small bites that we’re told to eat from the front to back:

• Beginning with a ginger and citrus Campari foam that burst in the mouth. It’s not overpowering but did wake up the palette and cleanse it for the second.
• The hairy crab tart’s briny flavour screamed of ocean (in a good way) so the crustacean was highlighted in the bite. We go from sour to salty.
• Lastly, a sweet bite with a generous portion of foie gras sandwiched between crunchy coffee crisps and topped with passionfruit jelly. Imagine having a really decadent sweet-and-salty candy bar.

LSL doesn’t keep you waiting for their signature dish: a peeled Amela tomato stuffed with finely diced tuna and topped with Kristal caviar. It’s something Chef Didier Leroy created for a dinner with Yo-Yo Ma that made him cry. It looks deceptively simple and features expensive ingredients (an $8 tomato for one) that gets diners excited. Having tried the caviar by itself, the ingredient solo would have been very pungent but once combined with the fruit and fish became amazingly fresh and light.

That natural sweetness continues with the Hokkaido scallop crudo, a dish that sounds Japanese but has a unique European flair. The scallop was meaty and fresh, topped with top-shelf uni flown in from Japan. It makes for a lusciously creamy bite. Yet, what surprised me most were the crunchy bits of dehydrated scallop reduction that gave the dish crunch and an umami touch.

My favourite plate was the crispy scale amadai where the fish was flash fried, so the meat becomes flaky, and the scales create a crunchy topping. It arrived with a warm ball of brioche that was perfect for wiping up every drop of the delicious beurre blanc. Good to the last drop.

The duo of squab was a close second place, the breast cooked beautifully with its tender meat and crispy skin. Sitting on a layer of rich pâté and crispy toast, the fowl becomes a sweet and delicate contrast. I don’t know how I feel about the pâté, it felt like too much. I feel the squab would work better on its own or with something more neutral like fish liver mousse and crispy potato.

I’m glad they brought out moist napkins and welcomed us to eat the squab leg with our hands. The savoury crispy bite was a star, and if I were at home, I’d probably continue nibbling on the bone to get at all the flavours. And not a drop of the citrus red wine jus was wasted given it’s paired with a heavenly crispy baguette.

How did the chefs prepare the rack for the seared lamb? The lollipop was so big that it must have been carefully carved to ensure all the adjacent lamb stayed on one bone. Regardless, LSL knows how to prepare meat well, the lamb was tender, juicy, and perfectly seasoned. I liked that the chefs showed restraint with the salt and allowed the sauces to flavour - mustard, black garlic puree, and a jalapeno sauce. I thoroughly enjoyed the accompanying crunchy relish and had every bite of it.

Some of the refreshing relish would pair nicely with the goat cheese tarte. Other diners were raving about the pastry – all the melted cheese, a buttery tart shell, and the Périgord black truffle shavings didn’t hurt.  Indeed, it’s a rich finish (likely a stand-in for the cheese course), but I felt it lacked something. After all, it’s just cheese. Perhaps a larger portion of salad, a creamy element within the tarte, or maybe more accompaniments. Something more than just melted cheese.

A trilogy of grapefruit didn’t sound like the most interesting dessert but was a great finish… especially following the decadent tarte. Layers of citrusy sugar crisps sandwich grapefruit and other sorbets to create a refreshing, not overly sweet, but satisfying ending. LSL marinates the grapefruit to remove bitter elements, and you’re left with a great winter dessert providing a boost of vitamin C.

The mignardises arrive with glass of tea that’s tempered perfectly so it doesn’t scald but is still hot and flavourful. It’s paired with a just-out-of-the-oven madeleine that’s oh so airy. And after a delicious bite, when you’re disappointed it wasn’t larger, you get a second one – Halleluiah! The raspberry and chocolate tarte was crispy and well balanced, but it’s the last jammy kumquat bite that’s so surprising. A stream of sunshine floods the mouth that finishes savoury. Is summer around the corner?

We each left with a little box of treats: nutty almond cake bites and more madeleines. Great for a late-night snack, a sweet for breakfast, or a nibble to accompany an afternoon tea.

All the wine pairings ($360 per person) balanced out the food, never fighting to be the star but complimenting it well. At one point I was falling behind with four glasses in front of me but was assured not to rush. Saving a taste for the other dishes isn’t a bad idea as it’s always nice to contrast different flavours.

And if you have any questions about the food, Chef Didier Leroy is on hand the entire night taking time to chat one-on-one. He’s like a homeowner welcoming a guest to the table: building a rapport, while doing a huge push to explain why LSL is Michelin worthy. It’s as if there are Michelin inspectors sitting amongst the diners and we’re going to get the hard sell.

At times, it became awkward. It’s one thing to be proud of the team, the luxe ingredients being imported, or even highlight the special touches like always having Didier at the helm and the handwritten affirmations in the bathroom. But, once we get to comparing LSL to other Michelin starred restaurants and always referencing the rating agency, it becomes too much.

Personally, I have no doubt LSL will be presented a star, if not two, in 2025. I would just encourage the team to let it happen naturally and focus on what they’re already doing well: they’re such a welcoming restaurant that makes me want to return; and the food was inventive but approachable, respectful to the ingredients themselves. The star(s) will come, no campaigning required.

Read mainstream articles written about And/Ore and their two-in-one concept and stunning décor are well cited characteristics. With that in mind, I’m not going to rehash these details and instead focus on Ore, the restaurant located on the bottom floor of the building.

As you descend by elevator into the cavernous dining room, it gives off a haunting tunnel-like ambiance. It’s here they serve their 8-course tasting menu ($150) with an optional wine pairing ($80) that’s begins with a glass of champagne and ends with a cocktail (in our case, a floral espresso martini).

The starting bites were a hit and a miss. The hit being a crispy and creamy arancini adorned with aioli and truffle shavings that made for an amazing first taste. This was followed by the biggest miss of the evening, a fishy tasting piece of fluke that couldn’t even be saved by the grapefruit segments. I quickly chased this down with the tuille wonton topped with caviar, which would seem inventive if it weren’t for the off-putting taste still lingering in my mouth.

At least the Timbit sized bread was as delicious as it looked: hot, soft, and buttery… three words that all milk bread should aspire to achieve.

Beautifully caramelized, the scallop was just cooked through and sat in a delicious lettuce and leek oil sauce. At first glance, the sheer number of hazelnuts and diced pear seemed excessive, but somehow worked. In fact, for someone who dislikes nuts and fruit on savoury things, I really enjoyed the dish.

Our table unanimously declared the maitake as our favourite item. The mushroom was cooked perfectly taking on a meaty feel. The celeriac base held a hint of curry, but the entire dish mellowed with a splash of vinegar. The only miss was the unfortunate wine pairing, which I can only describe as “salon-like” with its aroma of perming solution and soapy floral taste.

Chef Missy Hui should consider leaning more towards a “vegetable first” menu as she does meatless dishes beautifully. The roasted honeynut squash looked plain but was flavourful in a bright refreshing manner. Who would have known salsa verde could be a great compliment for root vegetables? And I love how she brushed the shiso leaf with egg white, rather than dipping it in tempura, to create a crispy but not oily bite.

The salmon was poached to a medium doneness, so it was juicy and tender. And while I enjoyed the cucumber and green tomato garnishes, I can’t help but feel it was missing something. A grain of some sort, whether it be couscous to keep it light or a risotto to make it hearty would be appreciated.

Generally, I find sorbet palette cleansers to be too sour or sweet. At Ore, their pear sorbet was fantastic with a hint of nuttiness and a cold pop from the semi-frozen green grape. Can I get another one of these with dessert?

Boy did the short rib smell amazing glazed in a lemongrass (?) and soy demi glace. And while the sauce was a tad salty, it did fully permeate the chunk of tender beef. Yet, it was the fluffy smoked potato dumpling that stole the show for me. You can’t go wrong with meat and potatoes.

When I heard their dessert was Black Forest cake, childhood memories of disappointing birthday celebrations flooded my mind. Luckily, Ore’s rendition was good, incorporating a moist chocolate cake and Amarena cherries that had its sweetness balanced with bourbon. Ultimately, it was the dark chocolate ganache that really helped bring it all together… maybe this cake has redeemed itself.

Ore’s petit fours were a welcomed ending. While the rum baba needed more liquor to not taste like a profiterole, I enjoyed the bite along with the soft chewy macaron and micro chocolate truffle.

Sitting in the cave-like environment, I couldn’t help but get sleepy, especially as our meal went past the 3-hour mark. Ore attempted to keep us awake by blasting music, which was too loud for the enclosed low ceiling environment. As much as I enjoyed the unique dining room, increasing the meal’s pace and decreasing the music’s volume are some small changes Ore could implement. 

In a nutshell... 

• Must order: spaghetti and black cod
• Just skip: wild king crab salad 
• Note: DaNico offers a prix fixe menu for $150 that allows diners to choose their three courses

As I recount my latest experience at Alo, I grapple with the final mark: would I still consider them a 9 or a “top pick”? There were dishes that were incredible, but then some that missed the mark. The tasting menu ($225 per person) was off to a shaky start when the canapés arrived.

We’re instructed to eat the four bites in a particular order. The first, an oyster with compressed cantaloupe and Iberico ham oil had a fishy essence without an acidic element (like the traditional mignonette or lemon) to help cut through the strong taste. It also seemed off that it wasn’t ice cold for something that should be served uber fresh. The first bite was a bust.

Slowly, the redemption started with the beautifully presented uni tart, which was made even creamier with a thick crème fraiche on the bottom. While this wasn’t mind-blowing, it was at least not repulsive.

After the fishy oyster I had doubts about the mackerel tart, but this was unfounded as the meaty fish was very clean tasting and well balanced with bright pops of the daintiest tomatoes and fruit. Indeed, there was an ocean-like essence from the caviar, but it wasn’t overpowering.

The canapés ended with a foie gras and strawberry jelly tart that created a sweet and savoury element. This was surprisingly good and wonderfully rich.

It’s unclear if Alo is pandering to Michelin inspectors as the procession of Japanese dishes just seem out of place at a French restaurant. Sure, I can understand if they want to throw in one dish that’s has a Japanese influence, but to feature a handful was just too much.

Moreover, some dishes just can’t live up to what you’d be served during an omakase meal. Chef Patrick Kriss should drop the madai course, a sea bream paired with chili oil, caviar, and kumquat. Like the oyster, it was fishy and warm. Give me this fish cool with freshly grated wasabi and soy sauce any day.

The kinmedai was better, the red snapper was at least cold and refreshing with the oh so finely julienned radish in the centre. The various oils complimented the fish nicely and this was an improvement over the other sashimi course. If Alo must have a sashimi course (why would it), one is enough.

Having a soft spot for chawanmushi I wouldn’t be opposed to this remaining on the menu. The actual steamed egg was hot and silky, but then enhanced with lovely French and Western elements: smooth foie gras tofu cubes, fragrant truffle paste, crunchy radish, sweet corn, and crispy chicken skin. All this amongst a pool of reduced capon broth. What an incredible dish!

At this point, the meal started having an upward trajectory. The chanterelle mushrooms were so meaty and cooked to the point of perfection – no longer raw and spongy but not too wilted either. Paired with spinach, artichoke, and a luscious whipped egg sauce, it was so delicious that I wanted to lick the bowl.

The seared scallop and roasted mussel continued the ascent with its superb execution. The scallop was seared beautifully and super sweet and the mussel so tender ending with a lovely clean finish that it’s unlike any mussel I’ve ever had. Paired with a savoury foam and parsley sauce, these were the perfect seasoning not overshadowing the seafood’s natural flavours.

At the beginning, we were asked if we’d like to substitute the rice dish for foie gras (supplemental $40). Why anyone would want to miss out on the Koshihikari rice with Dungeness crab is beyond me. Koshihikari is a short grain rice that’s cultivated to be used in many dishes, including risotto so that it has that creaminess but also a more distinct grain that Arborio. The risotto was cheesy and savoury with bits of snap pea added to give it a crunchy pop of freshness that was so good that I longed for more. To elevate the dish, thin slices of wagyu beef topped the dish, so that as it melts the fat seeps into the rice. Do not replace this baby.

A boneless lamb chop follows seared to perfection and having a lovely charbroil taste. As you have a cube of the meat with the garnishes, each bite tastes so different – whether it’s the peel tomato, fried shallots, or patty pan squash. Somewhere down the line you sample the the olive stuffed with sausage, which is good but a bit heavy, so I’d recommend saving it for the last bite.

Alas, the meal bell curves with the last savoury dish being mediocre. The striploin was fine, slightly over cooked, but at least having a nice grilled essence. Yet, it’s the miso sauce that really threw me off and added a weird funk to the steak. Perhaps if we upgraded the dry aged angus to the Japanese A5 wagyu (supplemental $90) it would pair better, but as it stood the sauce was a bust. Moreover, the deep-fried eggplant tempura garnish was too seedy and bitter.

The only saving grace was the pain au lait that gets paired with the striploin. It’s just as fluffy and fragrant as I remembered. I absolutely love Alo’s bread, so much so that they even gave us an order to go, what a sweet and unexpected gesture.

Normally, sorbet palette cleansers can be really tart and pungent. Alo tones it down with their take on strawberries and cream where the layer of cream at the bottom helps balance out the frozen Italian wine with strawberries and the champagne foam.

Dessert progresses with a tasty meringue with peach mousse and vanilla cake. Garnished with a verbena lemon sauce the dessert is a nice balance of sweet and sour. After so many dishes, I’m glad it’s a lighter finish that still has a sweetness that satisfies.

It wouldn’t be a French meal without a box of petit fours, presented in a lovely tree box. I love that they made a mini lemon meringue to pay homage to Aloette downstairs but it’s not nearly as good as the sister restaurant as meringue is so small that the bite was fairly sour. The passion fruit caramel was too sticky and the chocolate caramel too sweet. It was the simple strawberry gelee that was just right, enhanced by the fruit’s natural flavours and a great consistency. I felt like Goldilocks going through the petit fours trying to find the perfect bite.

Save room for their canale as it’s a lovely combination of crispy caramelized shell and fluffy moist interior. Consequently, it also paired perfectly with a cappuccino ($6).

The roller coaster food aside, Alo does excel at service. There’s a lovely chill we-don’t-take-ourselves-too-seriously vibe with the 90s rap playing and the entire staff sporting New Balance kicks. Everyone we encountered was so friendly, professional, and knowledgeable that we knew we were in good hands.