If song writers were to remake popular songs to update them for the 21^st century, I wonder how Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song would change. Could chestnuts still be roasting on an open fire? I can’t remember the last time I’ve had roasted chestnuts, especially not during Christmas. And do families really cook anything over an open fire anymore? The closest foods that come to mind are barbequed meats and pizza, but I guess “tomahawks and pizza cooking on an open fire” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Regrettably, you now have a glimpse of my chaotic inner mind.  

Perhaps it’s a tune that Otto Trattoria will consider remaking for their holidays as their wood burning oven is prominently displayed and coaxes every table to get one of their pies.

I like tasting a chef’s skill with a plainer pizza. We tried the burrata pizza ($24), which was covered with tomato sauce, basil oil, cherry tomatoes, and the cheese. The crust had a lovely soft chewy consistency but would have been better if it weren’t soggy in the centre – unfortunately, there was too much tomato sauce. Still, I liked that the chef broke up the cheese and applied it evenly across the pie so that every bite contained some burrata.

The prosciutto & rucola ($22) takes the basic pizza and tops it with a covering of thinly shaved cured ham and arugula. Strangely the chef cuts the crust before topping the pie, so diners need to saw through the prosciutto with a butter knife, which causes the cheese to slide around. One small change of cutting the pizza after covering it with the meat would help make eating this easier. Messiness aside, the paper-thin crust remains crispy and it’s a flavourful bite as you get the fresh tomato sauce, gooey cheese, salty ham, and peppery arugula.

I’m glad Otto leaves their tomato sauce rather neutral so it’s not overly salty. If anything, it allows you to ask for their chopped green chili oil to scatter over top to give it a light heat.

The chili oil also pairs nicely with the rigatoni Bolognese ($24), cutting through some of the heaviness of the meaty beef and veal and helping to flavour the under seasoned sauce. While the menu notes it’s served with rigatoni, the pasta almost resembles an oversized macaroni that really traps the sauce within the crevices and inside. The dish is simply finished with parmigiano and tastes authentic.

While I was taken aback by the square pasta shape used in the shrimp linguine ($23) – surely, more spaghetti than linguine - I’m glad it was homemade and arrived with a lovely chewiness. The white wine, olive oil, and garlic sauce was thickened with a touch of pasta water, so it clings nicely to the noodles. Along with cherry tomatoes and spinach, the dish is fresh and nicely seasoned. I just wish there was more than four shrimp and that they would be cooked less so they aren’t as rubbery.

Yet, nothing surprised us more than the sheer size of the chicken parmagiana ($31) - just the cutlet resembled a dinner plate and was covered with a gooey cheese. Usually, it's a dish you need to eat quickly or starts to get soft. At Otto's, the thinly butterflied chicken breast was lightly coated in bread crumbs so it held onto the tomato sauce without becoming mushy and the spaghetti cooked al dante remaining chewy to the last bite. Trust me, you need to share this dish or be prepared for leftovers galore.  

I was skeptical whether Otto’s calamari fritti ($18) would be good… it came out so quickly after placing our order. They are likely the frozen variety, but nonetheless lightly battered, crispy, and well seasoned. For those wanting some heat, you’ll find it in the aioli.

The more I think about it, the more I like the sound of “pizza toasting on an open fire”… it has a ring that causes a food lover’s heart to sing. Mr. Bublé, maybe it’s time for another Christmas album?

When an Italian tells you the best place to buy lasagna is from Porzia’s, you listen. With my luck, they also happened to be opening a new restaurant (previously, they operated a takeout joint), a no reservation establishment that can accommodate about 24 people a seating.

Porzia’s menu changes frequently with a focus on seasonal ingredients, which allowed me to try one of the sweetest cantaloupes I’ve ever experienced. If you’ve ever had musk melon, the two slices in the prosciutto and melon ($18) rivaled the prized melon in sweetness and went wonderfully with the freshly shaved Parma prosciutto, which was especially delicious when I sampled a slice covered in olive oil.  

One dish that’s constant on the menu is their lasagna, offered in a “classico” or “bolognese” format. Given I like my pasta saucier, we ordered the lasagne bolognese ($26) a hefty brick of pasta with so many layers of pasta and cheese that sat in a pool of meat sauce and was covered with finely shaved cheese.

The fresh pasta was silky and soft except for the top layer that’s broiled adding a crispiness to the otherwise soft dish. If you like pasta, you’ll swoon over this dish. And while it was delicious, it was also heavy and could use more sauce between the layers.

What impressed me was the tagliatelle with red shrimp al limone ($29), a lighter pasta that’s nonetheless a flavour bomb. I had to ask for a spoon to properly enjoy the sauce: a combination of chili peppers, rich olive oil, and slivers of garlic that ends with a lemon note that’s not overly acidic. After having bites of lasagna, I found the dish so refreshing and the tagliatelle chewy but still silky. Porzia’s you need to make this a staple.

As a secondi we shared the acqua pazza sea bass ($38), which consisted of two fair-sized pieces of perfectly poached fish cooked just to the point of flaking. The broth had a rustic feel to it with chunks of stewed onion, tomato, and artichokes amongst a host of herbs and white wine. If you like fish stews or bouillabaisse, this is the dish for you.

I’m so glad my friend let me in on the secret of Porzia’s and that they opened a restaurant. I have no doubt that as others discover the place, it will become bustling as their food is simply sublime. 

Behind all the scaffolding on Bay, you’ll find Za Cafe Pizzeria and Bar. It’s a bit of a dark horse, the former Gaberdine’s white walls washed with black, although the worn bar seating remains. The place doesn’t scream warm trattoria or even minimalistic pizza joint, it’s more of an emo Italian restaurant that happens to play energetic dance beats. A great place for after work drinks but would be a shame if you left before having a bite.

Because although Za doesn’t feel like a trattoria, their food is nonetheless comforting Italian fare. The beef carpaccio ($17) lays out large slices of raw beef tenderloin that’s liberally seasoned with salt, lemon juice, and very little oil. While it doesn’t have the drizzles of aioli that typically graces a Canadian carpaccio, there’s tons of flavours from pickled bell peppers, brined caper berries, and thick shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano. It’s a rustic carpaccio and would be even better if the salt was toned down a bit.

The burrata pizza ($21) special had a similar vein, the white pizza foundation just lightly brushed with oil, so the paper-thin crust remained wonderfully crispy and light. While the base was sauceless, the pie was still so flavourful from the herb and garlic base, tons of arugula, bright cherry tomatoes, and a ball of cool creamy burrata that went so nicely with the crispy hot dough. How do we get this special to be on the permanent menu?

I’m glad we tried their house made pasta as the curly strands of casarecce were perfectly done, chewy but still soft – almost like a pasta and gnocchi hybrid. The pasta’s crevices helped to scoop up the shrimp cognac’s ($24) creamy cognac rosé sauce, which was rich but refreshing. We were surprised by the generous portion of six tablespoon sized shrimp that topped the dish, more than enough to go around while sharing.

The pesto green ($17) was also large with plenty of the basil sauce so that it seeps into the tubular garganelli. The small dollops of ricotta were a nice touch, but there needed to be more of it. 

While the seafood spaghetti’s ($28) presentation wasn’t the greatest, the dish contained a decent selection of seafood: shrimp, salmon, calamari, mussels, and clams. Like the other pastas, Za didn’t skimp on the ingredients as there was plenty of it. Often, pasta that’s fresh is best, but on the odd occasion I prefer the dried variety. For spaghetti this is the case, as I found the fresh version too doughy and soft.

Interestingly, Za uses a spicy tomato white wine sauce with the seafood spaghetti. The heat was evident but doesn’t necessarily add to the dish. In retrospect, I would have preferred a traditional non-spicy sauce instead.

The Basque cheesecake ($12) is ideal for sharing as it’s sizeable. While it was well caramelized, that slightly toasted taste wasn’t pronounced… it pretty much tasted like any other cheesecake. Perhaps it’s because the mixture was too dense, not the light creamy consistency you’d expect from a Basque.  

Za’s tiramisu ($9) was a let down. It consisted of a lot of whipped cream and cocoa powder and very little lady fingers and mascarpone. At least it was a flavourful dessert, albeit basic and without a zip of zabaglione, which is disappointing compared to their other rustic fares. 

If you can look past all the construction and darkness, Za Café Pizzeria and Bar is an ideal place for an inexpensive meal or a pre-theatre dinner prior to heading to the Ed Mirvish or Elgin theatres, a short walk from the area. Just bring a friend as deciding between pizza or pasta will be terribly unpleasant. The answer is to just have both. 

We all know that COVID has hit restaurants badly. If you’re a newly opened restaurant or one beginning during the pandemic, it’s even worse. O&B’s latest addition, Babel, is unfortunately one of these restaurants that has been affected since operations only began in late 2019, when COVID was a mere whisper.

Their Mediterranean inspired menu relies on the 12-foot open concept hearth, where fires are ablaze and the force for cooking their dishes. It’s a shame, as from our patio vantage point, we couldn’t see it. Babel did try to make up for it by putting two blazing torches on the patio. They are beautiful, adding much needed light to the dark parking lot and an element of ambiance, but they’re more for décor as they don’t release much heat for warming.

Yet, their staff did everything they could to make us feel comfortable and welcomed. First, moving the table from the patio and onto the walkway beside the restaurant to give us more light and blocking some of the wind. The “heating lamp” was pushed as closely as possible; a second one later added until the other reservation for the night arrived. A fuel warmer, something you’d normally use under chafing dishes, was brought out to warm our hands. Pots of boiling water were substituted to the ice variety to warm us from the inside. They really tried to go above and beyond, which certainly helped as despite the frigid temperatures we stayed for two hours and didn’t want the evening to end.

With the dishes made with fire being marketed as a specialty to the restaurant, we had to try a couple. The smoked charred eggplant ($13) is a beautiful plate: the eggplant smeared into a thin layer and topped with pistachios, pomegranate, and edible flowers; drizzles of tahini and date molasses giving it tons of flavour with each bite. While more interesting than the typical dips, the delicate creamy eggplant does get covered with all the other ingredients, so if you really want the flavours of the vegetable, perhaps try the stuffed eggplant instead.

The beef tenderloin kebab ($30) arrives more done than we hoped – closer to medium well compared to the medium rareness described – but likely due to the hot metal cooking skewer being left in the kebab to help retain the heat longer. No harm done as being a tenderloin cut, the beef remained tender anyways. With the beef sitting on the pilaf, the rice becomes well seasoned with the juices soaking into the grains.

Both fire-cooked dishes were good, but so were the deep-fried falafels ($9), a green harissa mixed into the batter giving it lovely green hue and more flavour. Crispy outside and fluffy on the inside this is exactly what falafels should taste like.

They go nicely with the fattoush meets Caesar ($14), a salad that’s exactly as described: take charred romaine and drizzle it with a light Ceasar dressing and some of the ingredients typically found on the salad (parmigiano and filets of anchovies) and augment with other things found in fattoush – cucumbers, tomato, onions, and of course, crunchy pita bits. While it didn’t look overly exciting, it ended up being a decent salad.

We would have liked to see more chicken and less chickpeas in the shawarma ($17), a strange addition making the hand-held even messier to eat. After having shawarma in Dubai, I realize they are best kept simple: tons of chicken, a little bit of lettuce and pickles for crunch, and just enough garlic sauce and tahini for flavour but not to soak the bread. Babel’s probably looks better but is cumbersome to eat, especially when it’s served in a halved pita rather than in a chewy wrap. I’d also reduce the seasoning on the fries, as they were salty even for a person who likes things flavourful.

Truth be told, some of my favourite dishes of the night doesn’t even sound Mediterranean. The Babel wings ($17) was a perfect patio eat, the sole dish that arrived and stayed piping hot. We literally could see the steam being emitted from the wings as we bit into them. And the dry spice rub coating the skin was fantastic – slightly sweet but also bursting with other flavours like sumac enhanced with earthier tones.

The chef had to substitute tagliatelle in the spaghetti aglio e olio ($23), which was fine by me and perhaps worked even better to capture all the oil-based sauce. This was dish that gets cold quickly, but even warm was delicious, the pasta done nicely and just flavourful enough without being overly garlicky. The shrimp were also cooked perfectly and there was plenty of it with the pasta.

Can I have a knafeh ($10) to end? Of course! A thin layer of cheese sat on the bottom, enough to have the toasted crispy vermicelli stick to it with hazelnut and pistachio pieces sprinkled on top. There was just enough cinnamon syrup for sweetness but not to soak into the dessert. It’s one of the lighter renditions of the dish I’ve had. Normally, a small wedge of the dessert is all I can stomach; at Babel, I probably could have eaten it entirely.

Maybe it has something to do with eating outside in the cold, our bodies are burning so many calories just to keep us warm through the ordeal. At least that’s what I tell myself – dining in the cold will help work off all the fried food and carbs I just ingested (those who understand science and nutrition, don’t bother correcting me). Plus, the experience made me feel like a real Canadian. I may not ski, but I can eat in the cold.