You generally won’t find a calming and glamourous restaurant within an industrial neighbourhood. During a weeknight visit, we had to dodge cars getting in and out of businesses before arriving at General Public along the busy Geary Avenue. We met an older couple outside who looked confused. Yes, they were in the right place. Once an auto repair shop, it’s now home to Toronto Life’s best new restaurant of 2025.

It’s not exactly the place you’d think to start the meal with a bubbles and a bump ($15), essentially a 2g spoon of caviar chased with 1oz of champagne. While a bit ostentatious, it’s believed that by placing the caviar on the crook of your hand (essentially were you sprinkle salt to chase a tequila shot), your body will gradually warm the caviar to the right temperature. Did it work? Honestly, hard to tell with such a tiny portion.

While I enjoyed the dish, the protein could have been anything in bluefin carpaccio ($29). The strong flavours from the pickled onion and cheddar cheese crisps ended up covering the tuna. Not the greatest if you want to taste the bluefin, but ideal for those who are squeamish about eating raw fish.

Every table seemed to order the chicken wings ($21) given the description of being brined in a Guiness and tossed with a Worcestershire honey butter sauce… now this is different! It tasted like General Tao to me, which isn’t bad but not overly exciting either. At least they were crispy, juicy, and hot, three important components to a good wing.

The black cod ($47) was poached to perfection and covered in an herb bread crumb crust giving the silky fish some crunch. What really made it shine was the buttery parsley sauce that tasted like a creamy bisque. Why the dish isn’t served with toasted bread to allow diners to wipe up every drop of this sauce is a mystery.

We made our own “fish and chips” by pairing the cod with English chips ($13). These were so crispy and the potato nice and fluffy. I just need to tone down the salt.

Often an after thought at pubs, the desserts at General Public stole the show. The banoffee pie ($16) incorporates a thick ganache base in a lovely graham crust, so much chocolate that it could have been described as a chocolate tart. Layered with banana, caramel, and whipped cream this is a rich dessert that must be shared.

Consequently, it went perfectly with the lemon posset ($15). I wasn’t going to order this but after Corey, our server, described it as the best lemon dessert he’s had for a person who doesn’t like lemon desserts, I knew I had to try it.  

He was right. Covered with a short bread cookie, you need to break through it like a crème brûlée to get to the luscious creamy lemon pudding. The flavours were well-balanced, not overly sour or sweet, but as the Three Bears would say… just right. It was delicious on its own or mixed with the chocolate or whipped cream from the banoffee pie it worked as well. Teamwork makes the dessert dreams work.

Despite the swanky décor, General Public doesn’t take itself too seriously. I was curious about the furry mascot printed on the menus. Corey explained it was GP, a sidekick to Hammy the Hamster in a program called Once Upon a Hamster shown in the 90s on YTV. The initials GP spells out General Public so the obscure reference works.

And it certainly does for those who were born before the millennium. Upon reference to Hammy, my husband’s eyes lit up as he recounted the strange show that only broadcasted for two seasons. General Public is more than just a restaurant or pub. It’s a conversation starter, from the quirky guinea pig mascot to its odd location amongst repair shops.   

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.

Daphne occupies a great location and has a beautiful dining room, but their hosting operations needs improvement. They seem to seat people upon arrival, rather than pre-planning arrangements based on reservations, which is how we were sat beside the drafty door despite booking a month in advance.

The menu isn’t overly exciting but offers a safe selection so there will be options for all. A light spread of nibbles started our meal:

• Olives ($8) – a variety of olives in a light citrus za’atar oil.
• Bread and butter ($8) – a sizeable basket containing different breads like focaccia, sesame baguette, and whole wheat. They were all soft and fresh and went with nicely with the whipped cultured butter. It would have been even better if the bread was warmed.
• Little gem salad ($20) – your typical salad that resembled a lightly dressed Ceasar. If it had more of the garlic parmesan dressing it would stand out better but did go with the other bites and kept things light.

If you want to visit Flavour Town, hop on the black truffle pizza ($36) train. While the price may take you aback, the pie does contain slices of the fungi, you’ll find them scattered amongst the thinly sliced potatoes. The soft puffy crust was a tad soggy in the centre, but it wasn’t surprising given the egg that oozes over the pie adding a lovely creaminess. The dish was delicious with the addition of taleggio cheese, potato crema, and herbs.

The duck mafalda ($35) was equally flavourful with the crimped pasta pulling in so much of the shredded duck and spicy sauce into its crevices. Although the dish isn’t the prettiest, I loved the powerful punch of the sauce, which has a pesto-feel but still the freshness of a red sauce.  

For those abstaining from red meat, the tuna ribeye ($65) offers a 16oz hunk of protein that’s great for sharing. We’re warned the chimichurri is spicy, so we asked for the condiment on the side. In reality, there’s not a lick of heat but was heavy on the citrus and was really needed to season the tuna, which otherwise is merely sitting in a muted truffle ponzu.

The fish paired well with the sunchokes ($16), the root vegetables well roasted and tossed with sunflower tahini, brown butter, and caramelized honey that created a tasty crust. These would even work well with the little gem salad.

I can see why the cauliflower ($32) is considered a main. An entire head of the vegetable arrives covered with sauces so there’s a heartiness even without protein. Elements like the basil herb sauce gave it a freshness while the roasted grapes some sweetness. Still, it’s a lot for one person so is best shared with a large group.

I would not save room for dessert. If I liked chocolate, the Daphne bar ($16) was tasty, like a tuxedo cake in bar form with its dark chocolate mousse and caramel wrapped in a soft chocolate ganache. Alas, chocolate and I have a difficult relationship.  

We had high hopes for the coconut cream pie ($17), but it resembled a white chocolate mousse rather than pie as the dessert lacked the salty crust element. The passionfruit gel was also too tropical and took away from richness I expected from a cream pie. If anything, it’s pretty to look at.

Strawberry shortcake ($18) is usually one of my favourite desserts, but Daphne’s was terrible… give me a supermarket version any day. The makrut lime cream was overpowering giving the cake a lemongrass flavour and the black sesame adding an earthy nuttiness that didn’t compliment the strawberries.

MSSM isn’t your traditional omakase restaurant. As you ascend the steps from Yorkville, the energy level of the restaurant matches the neighbourhood. At least three people yell out shari as you enter, which means ‘sushi rice’ in Japanese. There’s music pumping and in lieu of the typical wooden sushi bar the dining room contains white graffitied walls and pink neon lights. We aren’t in Tokyo anymore Toto.

Also, unlike typical omakase spots, the sushi bar is HUGE. It can easily accommodate twenty people with five chef stations laid out so that each are preparing food for about four customers. Despite the sheer number of patrons, there’s something intimate about being nestled in a group around one chef, in an instant he put me at ease with questions and jokes… conversations are encouraged here.

What also makes them different is the price point - $98 per person instead of the $200+ that you’ll usually pay. Chef Masaki Saito realized not everyone could afford (or get a reservation) to his two Michelin star restaurant, hence opened MSSM as a means of allowing more people to get to experience the art of omakase.

Traditions be damned, MSSM starts off their menu with a hand roll. Filled with finely chopped tuna and pickled radish wrapped with shiso leaf and freshly toasted nori, it’s an interesting and hearty way to start off.  

The following bonito with apple onion sauce was too pungent for my liking with so many leeks, ginger, and chives. Perhaps if it’s accompanied with something creamy, like a sesame sauce, it would help balance out the dish.

MSSM also uses a sense of showmanship, presenting trays of the seafood that would form the ten pieces we were about to sample before slicing and preparing. Once ready, a bucket of rice is whisked out and periodically changed to ensure it’s at the optimal temperature. Indeed, the rice is nice and warm but could use more vinegar.

To start, the stripe bass (shima Suzuki), a clean and light tasting fish that is often used to warm up the palette. It’s immediately followed by salmon (zuke sake) that’s been marinated for a couple of hours in a “mother sauce” that gets cooked, added to, and reused… not unlike a sourdough starter. What a flavourful piece topped with a finely chopped green onion paste.

MSSM’s scallop (hotate) tastes clean especially when finished with drop of lime juice. I love that it’s not overly gummy so that you could chew the seafood and take in the scallop’s sweetness. A sprinkle of sea salt may bring out the flavours even more.

A hand torch crisps up the skin of the sea bream (madai) while also bringing out the fish’s oils and flavours. With a light dusting of salt, a bit of chili radish paste, and a drop of lime, it’s a nice bite that gives out heat and a slight smokiness.

In fact, I really appreciated the garnishes used on the nigiri. The bit of chopped yuzu peel on the blue fin tuna (akami) gave the fish a freshness that awoken the otherwise meaty fish. Our chef explains that they chop the garnishes by hand as they found using a food processor adds a bitterness to the items. Yes, that is one of the many tasks that keeps them busy before dinner service.

What really intrigued me was the chawanmushi sushi. I’m a big fan of the steamed egg and couldn’t understand how they were going to morph it into sushi. What first arrives is the typical dish – steam egg steamed with bonito and kelp stock. It didn’t look like much, and we’re told to just have a taste of it – good but not overly exciting.

The chef than takes it back and adds sushi rice, Dungeness crab sauce, yuzu peel paste, and wasabi before re-presenting the chawanmushi in front of us. Once it’s all well mixed together, it becomes this incredible eggy seafood risotto that is one of my favourite bites of the dinner.

After the high comes a small low, a spot prawn (botan ebi) with lime. While I’m glad it wasn’t too gummy, I still don’t like the texture of the raw shrimp … not one of my favourite bites.

It’s unclear whether torching the bluefin tuna belly (toro) makes it better. Sure, I liked that the fish oils were starting to liquify, but I found the piece a tad chewy – not necessarily from the fish, but perhaps from the spring onion inside. While still a nice piece, it just didn’t the pow of flavour that normally comes from a fatty tuna.

Give me dashimaki instead of tamago any day. At MSSM, the egg omelette is warm and savory with a moistness that keeps the layers light and fluffy. All hail the dashimaki!

The hand torch makes one last appearance with the sea eel (anago). After being liberally heated, some lime and yuzu peel is added to the slightly sweet, delicate, and tender eel. What a wonderful final bite.

So, what makes MSSM’s omakase experience different, other than the price? It certainly relies on volume. The five chefs are preparing the omakase at a decent clip and soon after they are done the miso soup arrives. The broth is made with fish bones instead of a strong dashi so there’s a mellowness to the soup. It’s adorned with Japanese chili powder and spring onions, giving it a spicier finish than traditional versions.

Dessert consisted of house made strawberry daifuku. Certainly not as incredible as the version I had at Kappo Sato, but still a good rendition of chewy mochi encapsulating sweet azuki paste and a juicy strawberry.

As a warning, don’t arrive too early for your reservation. As MSSM relies on volume, the seatings are close together and they may not be ready if you show up more than five minutes early. Luckily, Yorkville is a great place to walk around, so we kept ourselves entertained for ten minutes with ease.

Given some of the chefs and staff have worked together at Tachi, there’s a natural ease in the operations despite our opening week visit. I love the comradery and casualness between the staff, which makes us laugh and feel comfortable speaking to the strangers sharing the table around us. After all, it’s not every day you hear the sous chef joke that the chef is her “work husband” instead of curtly replying “yes, chef”.

Not taking themselves seriously and laughs is what MSSM is about. When I asked what the name stood for, our chef cheekily replies - Masaiki Saito Sexy Man. It’s unclear if this is real or he’s joking, but after seeing their sake pot, I thought there could be some truth to the name. And yes, call me a child, but if you serve me sake in that vessel with two round cups, you must expect a photo like this. Take it easy and just enjoy the shari!