It was admittedly disappointing that our table at Providence wasn’t ready at the reserved time, something you expect can happen at restaurants, but usually not at a three-Michelin-star establishment. Instead, we were seated in the bar area with menus and water while we waited. Ten minutes later, we were finally brought to our table. Maybe it’s simply California time, because for a major city, people in Los Angeles are awfully relaxed. Eventually, I embraced the slower pace with a glass of champagne. Bubbles make almost anything better.

Providence offers two tasting menus: the classic ($375 for 8 courses) or the chef ($495 for 10 courses). Interestingly, the menus are largely the same. With the classic, diners choose one of three mains, including paying an additional $45 supplement for the wagyu. The chef’s menu includes all three mains and folds the supplement into the price. There are also numerous supplemental dishes available, but the chef’s menu already felt like more than enough.

That’s especially true once the amuse-bouches begin arriving. A trio of tarts kicks off the meal, each using the same delicate shell in different ways. First comes bluefin tuna topped with caviar and sprayed tableside with basil vinegar that instantly perfumes the air. Then a creamy uni tart decorated with edible flowers and microgreens from Providence’s rooftop garden. Finally, a crispy roll filled with crème fraîche and wrapped in salmon. Elegant but playful all at once.

Additional bites continue the Americana theme, including a grilled cheese that takes truffle and sandwiches it between impossibly thin toasted bread. I may never look at grilled cheese the same way again.

A bite-sized taco follows, filled with wagyu and smoked oyster tartare. Despite its delicate appearance, it delivers an incredible amount of richness and flavour.

The official tasting menu begins with kaluga caviar paired with slices of geoduck and a country ham broth. We’re instructed to eat about two-thirds of the dish before adding more broth and shooting the remainder directly from the shell. The geoduck is wonderfully fresh and meaty, elevated by the caviar and bright tomato broth. A layer of silky tofu hidden underneath ties everything together and lends creaminess without relying on dairy. The final “shot” shifts the dish into a more savoury, almost comforting finish.

Before the next course, another off-menu surprise arrives - a miniature lobster roll featuring lobster tartare tucked into thick toasted milk bread and shaved Italian truffle. Delicious, though the lobster itself becomes somewhat overshadowed by the richer additions.

Their sashimi course showcased dry-aged wild cod surrounded by crème fraîche, nori oil, and hibiscus salt. Bite by bite, the fish felt delicate and spring-like, especially swirled through the airy sauce. Still, the final bite, layered with pickled ginger and extra flowers, ended up being the most memorable.

Pressure-cooked abalone followed, incredibly tender yet still satisfyingly meaty beneath a lightly sweet glaze. While I could have done without the puffed rice scattered overtop, I understood the textural contrast they were aiming for. Providence then doubled down on luxury by bringing over a box of spring white truffles and shaving them generously over the dish, which paired beautifully with the thick egg yolk sauce underneath.

Still, I found myself brushing aside the truffles just to admire the largest asparagus spear I’d ever seen. Had the menu not explained it came from Roscoe Zuckerman’s third-generation farm, I might have assumed it was genetically engineered. Somehow, the asparagus tasted almost juicy.

The patty pan squash tortellini arrived plump and surrounded by chunks of crab and uni. Individually, every element was excellent but once combined with the broth and fennel-basil oil, the dish truly came alive. The sweetness of the seafood balanced the broth beautifully.

Anyone worried about leaving hungry can relax once an entire boule of red fife sourdough arrives warm from the oven alongside cultured butter and sea salt. I’d heard about the revival of this heritage grain before but hadn’t realized its California roots. The bread itself had a hearty nuttiness while remaining fluffy and light.

When the black bass arrived and the server described it as “kinki fish” from Japan, I momentarily thought he said “kinky fish,” which certainly grabbed my attention. The fish itself was delicate yet rich, almost like a lighter but fattier version of black cod. Still, the sweet spring peas nearly stole the show.

The menu then transitions into the trio of mains. Ordinarily, I probably wouldn’t have selected the California king salmon, which would have been a shame because the dish came with a story. Due to years of drought, the salmon hadn’t appeared on menus for four years since there wasn’t enough water for migration upstream.

Providence prepares the salmon by sandwiching it between thin milk bread before searing it, allowing the bread to soak up the beurre blanc and herb oil. Paired with porcini mushrooms and grilled ramps, the dish had that coastal feel.

Had I been choosing independently, I likely would have gravitated toward the Liberty Farms duck from Napa Valley. Before serving, the kitchen presents the entire bird tableside in a theatrical “show-and-tell” moment before carving it into beautifully tender slices.

While the duck itself was excellent, the salted cherry sauce wasn’t entirely to my taste. I did, however, love the whimsical “faux” foie gras cherry accompanying the dish, silky and visually stunning enough to make you forget about the real thing entirely.

The final savoury course was A5 wagyu, so intensely rich that after a few bites my palate was completely overwhelmed with buttery fat. As though that weren’t decadent enough, it arrived alongside a morel stuffed with sweetbread, turning the mushroom into a rich protein of its own. By this point in the meal, it was simply too much for me personally.

Before dessert, a cheese cart appears tableside. Completely stuffed, I opted out, though my friend didn’t. Frankly, the restaurant should warn diners that the cheese service ($70) is large enough for a table. Two long slices of 30-month-aged Jura Comté topped with generous summer truffles and rooftop honey arrived first, surprisingly light due to how thinly the cheese was sliced.

The truffle brie, meanwhile, was far richer and funkier than expected, almost approaching blue cheese territory. Providence creates it by splitting a wheel of brie, stuffing it with black truffles, then coating the outside with chopped truffle “frosting.” Truffle lovers would probably lose their minds over it.

Thankfully, the next course was a refreshing red fruit sorbet that acted as the palate cleanser I desperately needed. The combination of berries, shiso, and makrut lime struck a beautiful balance between sweet and citrusy. Shaping it like a Michelin star was a cheeky touch, though I joked they should have served three of them.

One thing that truly sets fine dining apart is the obsessive dedication behind the scenes. During COVID, Providence pastry chef Mac Daniel Dimla apparently spent his downtime learning chocolate making. He now produces chocolate in-house and dessert becomes a showcase for that passion.

The first dessert, using Hawaiian Mauna Kea cacao, resembled a delicate cake layered with thick mousse and a silky ganache disk, paired with a salty Venetian sauce and another tart accompaniment. Individually, the flavours felt bold and distinct, but together they combined beautifully.

Among the petit fours, my favourite was easily the blueberry verbena tart, which cleverly echoed the tart amuse-bouches from the beginning of the meal. There was, naturally, even more chocolate in the form of a Mexican chocolate macaron and a truffle filled with crunchy pistachio centre. The cone-shaped bite, meanwhile, leaned heavily into sesame and citrus flavours that felt more acquired in taste.

What truly fascinated me, however, was the chocolate mint tea. It smells unmistakably like chocolate but drinks like herbal tea. Alongside it came what looked like honey but turned out to be a syrup made from cocoa husks, it’s an example of Chef Dimla’s low-waste philosophy.

Ultimately, Providence feels distinctly Californian. The menu leans heavily into seafood and seasonality without ever becoming overly stiff. There are playful touches everywhere, from animal-shaped zodiac knife rests to rooftop gardens, house-made honey, and in-house chocolate production. And just when you think the experience is over, they send you home with a small bar of Peruvian chocolate as one final reminder of the evening.

Providence somehow balances luxury with personality. One moment you’re eating caviar and white truffles, the next you’re laughing about zodiac knife rests and “kinky fish.” It’s polished fine dining that still knows how to have fun.

Is Winterlicious worth it (based on an estimated selection)?
Winterlicious - $55
Regular menu - $67* - pasta* ($12), black cod ($41) and tartufo ($14)
Savings - $12 or 18%

* Based on half portion of the gnocchi el ragu

• 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!

• Buca
• Oretta

• 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!

• The Restaurant at Pearl Morissette
• Langdon Hall

Don Alfonso 1890 originates from Sorrento within the Amalfi Coast of Italy. The Mediterranean restaurant has been awarded two Michelin stars and is known for their extensive wine list. While I haven’t visited the original location, it’s described as a picturesque boutique hotel that even has an onsite cooking school. In comes the Liberty Entertainment Group (owners of Casa Loma, Liberty Grand, etc.) who convinced Chef Ernesto Iaccarino to partner with them to open the new Toronto outpost. Of course, Chef Iaccarino will stay in Italy, hence the Toronto kitchen is led by Chef Saverio Macri, who trained with Chef Iaccarino for months.

Set in the former Rosewater Supper Club, the space is even lighter and brighter than before. Sitting in the soaring dining room, you can’t help but feel a sense of tranquility and awe. A few large art pieces draws interest, but otherwise the space is relatively neutral, so you can focus on the food.

In keeping with Don Alfonso’s tradition of using local ingredients, dishes like the Manitoba bison and Nova Scotia ling cod has been customized for the Canadian menu. However, they do import some ingredients to retain the Amalfi Coast flavours. For example, the olive oil that’s carefully poured onto the bread plate (with an indentation that separates the oil) is from Tuscany, a great pairing with their airy and salty focaccia. Also make sure to get their hot crispy mini baguette, this goes wonderfully with the truffle butter.

The 8-course tasting menu ($150 per person with vegetarian option available) consists of five savoury and three sweet dishes, wine pairings are an additional $100.

A collection of canapés arrives on a tree limb shaped plate, where the actual canapés are meant to resemble fall foliage. Each bite is different: yellowfin tuna tartare and parsley crisp a light start; bison tartare with chili chip resembled typical beef tartare; sea urchin with squid ink crisp finishes off with a bitter bite; and finally, meaty and refreshing rockfish ceviche with turmeric crisp, my favourite of the bunch. While each canapé is quickly finished in two bites, it must take a long time to make four different toppings with four different flavoured chips.

Admittedly, when I first saw the ice creamed eel course my stomach turned. Yet, what arrived was pleasant and tasted like a salty cream, not unlike Cesar dressing without the cheese and garlic. Once mixed into the wild rose scented tagliatelle, which by itself is also powerful, the saltiness and the floral flavour worked remarkably well. However, I’d suggest adding the creamed eel gradually into the pasta as the ratio given is unbalanced – for Don Alfonso, doubling the pasta and reducing the creamed eel by a third is advisable.

For some protein courses, dishes allow diners to flavour the meat to their preference. The seared Muscovy duck breast comes with three sauces: a balsamic reduction, a star anise glaze, and royal gala apple purée. It’s a nice touch to be able to mix-and-match to my liking – surprisingly, I enjoyed the star anise glaze the most. The duck was beautifully seared, if only there was more duck and less sauce.

Where the sauces didn’t work as well was for the bison. The San Marzano tomato and red chili reduction was a splitting taste of Frank’s Red Hot and the salsa verde, something that normally goes well with steak, just didn’t pair well.

With the bison wrapped with swiss chard, mozzarella, and a buttery bread crust, the dish was a cross between beef wellington and chicken cordon blue. While my husband believes a chimichurri would go well with it, I think a simple jus mixed with a sweet element (like a berry or current) would have been great – perhaps a little safe, but at least tastier. Luckily, the meat was flavourful enough on its own that I didn’t need the sauce, it was merely disappointing that the meal didn’t end stronger.

For other dishes, we’re told to aggressively mix everything together… to have the elements individually would be too plain. Sure, the mackerel in the vermicelli di gragnano was done beautifully and clean tasting, but once combined with caramelized onions, Alalonga tuna purée, and crunchy Silician pine nut pieces, it was even better. Some patrons may find the dish salty; for me, it was perfect. So much so, that I may go back for a larger plate from their a la carte menu ($28).

The menu describes the merluzzo as having a ‘crisp’ herb skin. While it was a thick sauce formed with six herbs, the skin on the ling cod wasn’t crispy. In fact, it really didn’t taste like much - if anything, the zucchini puree under the fish was stronger and gave the protein flavour. Regardless, it was a lovely lighter dish, adding some vegetables into the meal.

A sizeable portion of Ontario strawberry sorbet arrives as a palette cleanser, in between the savoury dishes and dessert. The pistachio glass is a nice decorative touch.

Dessert begins with something traditional, a Neapolitan sfogliatella, consisting of a flakey phyllo pastry filled with tons of cinnamon infused cream. So much pastry cream that it felt like we were having cinnamon mousse - I say more cone, less cream! Moreover, the amarena cherry glaze should be drizzled around the plate, given it’s an acquired taste (depends if you enjoy maraschino cherries), which I would have preferred to avoid.  

The last dish ends with a bang … or billowing smoke. A tray of petit four arrives with dry ice in the centre, which makes for a great presentation while keeping the sweets cold. The pastry of the deconstructed cannoli was delicious, the nuts adding a great crunch, but the almond cream wasn’t for me. My favourite was the creamy hazelnut semifreddo, which went particularly well with cappuccino. And the last bite, a silky olive oil truffle on a crunchy pistachio biscuit, a rich sweet ending that’s also notably balanced.  

Although $150 tasting menus are widely found in major cities worldwide, in Toronto it’s still one of the pricier options. Aside from the sturgeon caviar (used sparingly with the ice creamed eel), the ingredients aren’t particularly luxurious, so why does Don Alfonso command the price?

Aside from the tie-in to the Michelin-starred restaurant, likely due to the sheer amount of people working. A team of two assembles the canapes dish, which as the evening progressed expanded to three – three people to scoop premade toppings onto crisps. Every table is served in unison, no matter how large. And even opening a bottle of wine is an elaborate affair with the sommelier wheeling over a cart (complete with lit candle), slowly removing the cork, pouring the wine into a large crystal decanter, before presenting the cork on a silver platter and pouring the wine.

Or maybe it has something to do with all the tableware they need to purchase. Every course is served on a customized vessel with matching silverware, believed to showcase the characteristics of the dish. 

In other words, Don Alfonso offers an over-the-top experience that’s rarely found elsewhere in the city. They make you feel special … where else are you offered a tour of the kitchen and wine cellar before leaving the restaurant? It’s the place to go for a special occasion or when you really want to impress someone.

For a glimpse of the experience, you can also visit the second-floor lounge where they offer an a la carte menu, a mix of some tasting menu dishes and others created especially for their smaller kitchen. You may not get served in unison and the wine may not arrive elaborately with a cart, but you can try the tasty vermicelli di gragnano mackerel.

• 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!

• Alo
• Edulis