There’s a friendliness at La Paella that instantly disarms you and puts you at ease. The welcoming service and cheerful, warm décor made it clear right away that this was going to be a good experience. If you’re hungry, be sure to order some appetizers - the paella takes time (about 40 minutes), and you’ll want something to tide you over.

If I see Iberico ham on a menu, I’m always tempted. At La Paella, the plato de jamon Iberico ($42) is cut thicker than usual, making it meatier and chewier than the delicate, thinner versions I’ve had before. The upside is you really taste the sweet pork. The downside? It’s paired with black truffle chips that completely overpower it. Do yourself a favour: eat the ham first, then the chips to wash down your cerveza. Otherwise, you’re wasting the ham.

The croquetas ($18 for six) change with the season. Ours were studded with bits of ham, finely diced into a creamy, almost mashed potato-like filling. The crisp exterior against the soft interior made for a great bite.

I’m glad the server suggested ordering sourdough ($5) alongside the gambas al ajillo ($29), because the garlicky olive oil and sherry sauce was excellent. Specks of guindilla chilies add a subtle but noticeable kick. If I weren’t trying to save room for the main, I would have devoured an entire thick slice of that crusty bread.

You’ll need at least two people to share a paella but a larger table is even better so you can try a couple of versions.

Do not miss the paella de langosta ($100 for two-person portion). It’s a simple but effective combination of lobster tail, prawns, and scallops, all cooked well despite the risk of overcooking such large pieces. The saffron rice is infused with an aromatic seafood stock and dotted with broad beans and peas for colour. It could be a touch drier - I prefer when the bottom forms a crispy crust - but if you enjoy a creamier, risotto-like consistency, this will suit you. Only while writing this did I realize you can request it done socarrat (the traditional burnt crust), which I’d request next time.

As for meat options, the paella matadero ($84 for two-person portion) is not for the faint of heart. You really really need to love pork - chorizo, pork belly, and ribs make it rich, salty, and quite heavy. Without much sauce, the ribs can lean a bit gamey. As a table, we agreed we should’ve gone with the traditional chicken-based Valenciana instead, as this was simply too much.

By the time 8:30pm rolled around the cheesecake was sold out, but who cares as their churros were fantastic! Freshly fried with a light crispy exterior and a soft moist centre, they were coated in cinnamon sugar and served with a chocolate sauce that wasn’t overly sweet. Easily one of the best churro orders I’ve had.

La Paella is made for sharing, lingering, and eating a little too much. Just remember: ham before chips, seafood over meat, and always save room for churros.

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.

European tasting menus that incorporate Japanese influences to play into food trends or Michelin inspector palettes don’t impress me. It’s the reason I had reservations of trying Radici Project at the beginning. Until I heard the restaurant was started by Kayo Ito, a sake sommelier, and Italian Chef Emiliano Del Frate who also happened to be married. Now this is a mashup I can get behind.

Their immersive tasting menu ($160 per person) begins with an amuse bouche trio including a mocktail palette cleanser that looks fruity but finishes savoury thanks to the garum butter swirled into the drink.

The drink prepares the taste buds for their crab takoyaki that incorporates unused portions of the crab head (in a dish to come) captured in a soft fluffy batter with bonito flakes adding an extra touch of umami. I found the concept of the savoury waffle too similar (and not as tasty) and wish the kitchen used the dollops of creamy burrata and crisp kimchi in something different.

If you don’t like dealing with the crustacean, Radici’s crab dish is ideal as the sweet crab meat is removed from the shell and paired with an almond foam and caviar. What’s finished in a few bites must take a while to prepare but makes for a great start.

The restaurant follows a zero-waste philosophy that you see throughout the meal. So, when their supplier, Acadian Sturgeon and Caviar Inc., started smoking the fish they killed to harvest caviar, the restaurant knew they needed to feature the product on their menu. And what a wonderful idea it was to pair the slice of smoked sturgeon with their crusty airy sourdough and silky whipped butter! The meaty fish tastes like a lean country ham so really works. I’d love to see more restaurants swap out sturgeon for swine. 

I was intrigued by how curing duck breast in beeswax would taste. It seems to condense its flavours as the gaminess was more pronounced, which was why the kitchen paired it with a slice of preserved plum and a pickled vegetable (?), both elements cutting the richness and gaminess of the duck.

The karaage e papacelle is a great fusion dish. It was influenced by Kayo who grew up eating fried chicken, which Chef Emiliano notes isn’t popular in his Italian village… when he ate chicken, it was usually roasted and served with potatoes. So, he decided to marry their cultures by deboning a chicken wing and stuffing it with roasted potatoes. Served with a mascarpone roasted red pepper sauce it’s deliciously addictive, the fluffy soft potato contrasting nicely with the crunchy and juicy fried chicken.

At Radici, pink dishes do not signify frilly and light creations. The beet tajarin tastes like a rich seafood pasta thanks to garum butter studded with smoked caviar. The pasta was done beautifully and left me longing for just a few more forkfuls.

If food scraps taste this good, I say give us more. The cappellacci is stuffed with veal trimmings and served in a burnt onion dashi made from various vegetable scraps. I can still taste the delicious broth that flooded my mouth with flavours, including the ingenious idea of adding small ginger slivers and sumac at the bottom so it ends on a bright note.

You can’t go wrong with halibut and maitake, one poached and the other grilled creating a creamy smoky dish. Yet, it’s the peperone crusco oil that really wakes up the fish adding a bright zing of spice that shone through the two richer elements.  

We’re told to try the veal by itself and leave the portion topped with a cilantro flower last. I was waiting for a huge pop of floral or citrus, but it didn’t taste that different. If anything, the sparkling red wine paired with the dish surprised me more. It paired well with the tender beef and silky sweet smoked parsnip puree.

In fact, I’d recommend going with their drink pairings. The mix wine and sake flight ($70 for 4 drinks) complimented the meal and incorporated such different drinks including a yeasty sparkling sake, orange wine, a white, and the aforementioned sparkling red. 

Dinner ended with a delicious honey cake topped with camomile gel and whipped cream. It tasted so light and fluffy adorned with honey and buttery cookie elements to give the dish extra pops of flavours and textures.

I’ve been lucky to have dined at many Toronto restaurants before they were granted a Michelin star and getting a reservation became difficult. I’m predicting that Radici Project will be a star contender. Their food is inventive and delicious but improving their plating aesthetics and tweaking the service is needed. It’s small things like ensuring the drink pairing is on the table before the food arrives, which can be easily solved by allowing the sommelier to be dedicated to drinks and not also serving food.

At least they have the welcoming and warm environment down. And I enjoyed the whimsical touches like the Jenga block cutlery holder that became a necessity when the wooden ones they sourced weren’t big enough to hold the cutlery. Since Jenga is a go-to game for Kayo, they bought a box, and it’s works beautifully.

As the Radici Project continues, I can’t wait to see how it morphs and grows.