If you enjoy bold flavours, Azura’s tasting menu ($128 per person) will have your tastebuds in a tizzy. And since the restaurant serves a blind tasting menu, your taste buds won’t know what’s to come as they’re introduced to spices, herbs, and sauces galore.

Focused on foods from the Mediterranean, the canapés begin with a Moroccan flair. The beet tart was beautiful to behold but also surprisingly bitter for a dish made with sweet root vegetables. The beets did little to stave off the bitter bite from the rhubarb harissa paste and small white flowers. The geraniums also made the tart much too floral tasting. As beautiful as it was, it was a disappointing start.

The avgotaraho moved the menu in the right direction, a crispy piece of panisse topped with labneh and red mullet roe. It’s creamy, salty, tangy, and messy to eat. I’d recommend making the panisse based thinner and wider so it becomes more of a two-bite canapé and would also allow the panisse to taste less dense.

Progressively things became tastier, the cigar looking concoction revealing a smoked cannoli stuffed with albacore tuna. It’s a delicious burst of smokiness balanced with acidity and a host of spices.

To end the canapés, a shrimp mousse piped into choux pastry, which had a sweet and savoury element. I loved the bright ingredients of pickled rhubarb and preserved citrus that helped lighten the umami-laced cream, Chef Adam should consider using this mousse in the beet tart.

Despite the scallop being overpowered by the date and pomegranate vinegarette, it was nonetheless prepared beautifully, so clean and luscious. Covered in creamy avocado and topped with salty fried okra and chili slices, it’s a starter that offers so many flavours and textures.

We’re told the halibut is inspired by one of Chef Adam’s favourite late-night snacks - the shawarma. While the fish could be cooked a touch less, it’s meatiness really held up with all the spices, tahini, and the cauliflower and couscous (?) medley. Who would have thought that fish would make for a great shawarma?

The celeriac was seared until it developed a lovely, caramelized crust emitting a slight smokiness. At once creamy a slightly crunchy, the root vegetable paired nicely with the earthiness of the blue foot mushrooms and refreshing watercress puree. This was one of my top three dishes of the evening.

Yet, the best dish of the meal, the one that had me swooning for more was the Iberico secreto. It’s described as a cut from the neck to arm pit area of the prized Spanish pig that’s known for it’s marbling. Having had Iberico in ham and sausage formats on numerous occasions, why has it taken me so long to have it seared?

Absolutely incredible, the crispy skin and fat makes the protein almost seem duck like but without any gaminess and even juicier. It’s a dish that’s only found on the full tasting menu (not the condensed version) and with the constantly changing offerings, a treat when the ingredient can be sourced.

Chef Adam should consider reordering the menu if a guest adds on the wagyu course (supplemental $55). After the incredible Iberico the beef was boring. My slice was also chewy given it was overcooked and had a muscle fibre running through it. If anything, the wild French asparagus and andouille stuffed morels delighted me more than the beef.

As we near the end of the savoury courses, an entire feast arrives with the venison leg tagine.  The protein was served with dishes of preserved lemon, smoked cucumber and eggplant hummus, olives, pita, and smoked sweet potato. We’re told to divide the pita into four and have the venison with each of the accompaniments individually.

My advice: create small bite sized “tacos” and have the meat with everything all at once. Otherwise, it just tastes too plain. I found the venison too lean and would have liked something that had a bit of fat or gelatinous cartilage incorporated into it – perhaps chunks of brisket or mutton? And I’d just skip the streusel sweet potato all together.

While I enjoyed the asparagus, it’s procession in the menu seems out of place. The vegetable was augmented with bold sides: porcini paste, kefalograviera cheese (like Parmesan but lighter), and something very peppery. If anything, the vegetable would have been nicer before all the meat dishes (it’s pepperiness highlighting the flavours to come) and the sweeter and lighter celeriac creating a better flow into desserts.

With tasting menus, I often find the desserts to be decent at best but not overly memorable. The fig newton could be considered one of those dishes – tasty but safe. A lemon poppyseed cake that sandwiches fig jam, there’s a really comforting quality to the dessert and is perfect for those who like a dessert that’s not overly sweet.

Yet, the last mortadella blew me away and was my second favourite dish. Firstly, it had me fooled – I was so sure it was a piece of meat on the bread. In reality, it is ruby chocolate studded with pistachio and shaved serrano ham. Moreover, there’s some sort of powder that looks like cheese but is so wispy light and creamy. Sweet, creamy, nutty, savoury, and tangy elements all combine to make for an incredible last dish. Give me more desserts like this any day.  

In fact, I should just have ended it on a high and not had the last bite of “Ferrero Rocher”. Hard and dense, there’s no crispy or creamy elements that you’d expect with the famed dessert. Azura needs to make these smaller or better yet, end with something more Mediterranean like a square of baklava instead.

In earlier posts on Gastro World, I’ve been complaining that Toronto’s tasting menus are morphing to become too Euro Japanese. At Azura you won’t find a lick of this – thank God! In fact, it’s one of the most unique tasting menus I’ve had in a while. A theme that continues into the wine offerings from little known regions. Combined with their friendly down-to-earth service and I’m smitten with Azura. I can’t wait to go back, but that Iberico secreto better make an appearance. 

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. 

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.

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.