Do you have a favourite neighbourhood restaurant? It’s that place you head out to for an impromptu meal, somewhere that offers a solid menu with reasonable prices, and you know you can likely score a table without waiting too long. The food may not be Michelin quality, but you’re usually not disappointed, and the menu’s varied enough that you’ll find something to eat. If I lived in the Yonge and Eglinton area, Wild Chicory could be one of those favourite local haunts.

Their menu is extensive, with several starters that would work well as “tapas” or even act as a main with a side dish, for nights when you don’t have a big appetite. The flavours of the Seoul chicken ($16) were decent – a combination of sweet, sour, and spicy – but could use more gochujang for heat and less rice vinegar as it was a tad tart for my taste. Crispy and juicy, these would have been even better if it arrived hotter.

My husband hypothesized that the chicken likely got cold as they were waiting on the rice nuggets in the crispy pork belly ($17). Indeed, they were searingly hot, very crunchy and addicting – the best part of the dish. Disappointingly, the pork belly wasn’t actually crispy. Perhaps it’s because the big chunks of meat are difficult to render and the dish would be better served as slices so there’s a larger surface area. More likely, there could just be too much hoisin sauce covering everything, which I did find overpowering and would have worked better smeared on the plate so diners can adjust the amount they want on the pork.

The problem with such strong-tasting starters is that the mains feel bland in comparison. A special that evening was the beef rib ($28) that was prepared to tender but not too soft. However, a thick piece of beef needs liberal seasoning to permeate into the meat. When I was having it au natural, it tasted plain. Luckily, the dish did come with a creamy sweet corn bisque and barbeque sauce, two things to dunk the beef into. What impressed me most were the sides, a light creamy potato salad that was bursting with flavours and a crispy and fresh coleslaw.

In the coast to coast ($38), only the scallops were seasoned perfectly, the bit of salt enhancing the beautifully crusted seafood that arrive just cooked through. The salmon was okay, not overly flavourful but at least had a lovely crispy skin. If it was done a touch less it’d be even better since the dish doesn’t come with a sauce and the fish tends to dry out quickly. Meanwhile, the leek and pea barley was too mild and so over powered by the lemon foam that it started having a bitter undertone. Perhaps, it could have been saved with salt.

Maybe I was lucky I didn’t finish the barley as it left me room to share Wild Chicory’s tiramisu ($12), it was delicious… the perfect balance of soaked lady fingers and mascarpone laced cream. Shaving chocolate on top was a nice touch, but I’d still add a touch of cocoa powder as its bitterness would better balance the dessert. Consequently, the tiramisu’s sweetness did go particularly well with an espresso martini ($17), which had a slight bitterness that diluted the sugariness.

Ah… an espresso martini, my go-to drink lately for elongating a meal to make it last a little longer. And time is what you have at Wild Chicory: you’re not being rushed to leave or warned about a two-hour seating limit. That’s how neighbourhood spots should be – walk-in, choose something new or order a favourite, and then just sit back and enjoy.

Torontonians love visiting wine country when the weather warms and Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery is one of the quintessential locations for a leisurely lunch. With numerous tables available outdoors and inside, you’ll find the seat for your preference. For me, being on the patio, in the shade is the perfect compliment for a glass of wine. On our Saturday visit, they even had a duo playing Nora Jones type songs, adding a calming melody while overlooking Ravine’s vast vineyard.

A generous portion of wild pink shrimp arrives on the Fogo Island shrimp toast ($19), practically smothering the two miniscule triangles of rye toast on the plate. Tossed with crème fraiche, a host of herbs, a bit of shallot (?), and slivers of chili, it’s a refreshing starter that wasn’t overly seasoned, so the shrimp’s flavours were retained. The dish just needed more toast to add that crunch and to balance out the creaminess of the sauce.

Presenting a fair portion of the main protein but less side ingredients tends to run throughout Ravine’s menu. The salad niçoise ($27) had plenty of flaked hot smoked steelhead trout around the plate but little salad greens to compliment the salty black olives and fish. Smartly, Ravine leaves the creamy boiled potato and crunchy green beans unseasoned, so I did end up spearing pieces of those with the fish and olives. 

Still, more of the greens would just help create a fulsome bite, especially if this is supposed to be a main dish. The soft-boiled egg was beautifully prepared with it’s glistening molten centre, for this ingredient I would have liked a sprinkling of salt as the smoky trout didn’t pair well with it.

Ravine’s fish and chips ($25) was delicious, the non-distinguished “lake fish” so fresh and very lightly battered so the crust easily breaks away as you cut into it with a fork. And while the fish itself was super crispy, the chips could use a double fry to make them crunchier.

With the lighter starter and main (I had the salad niçoise), there was plenty of room for a slice of coffee cream pie ($12) for dessert. More espresso is needed in the custard layer as I found the coffee tastes rather muted compared to the cocoa powder and smear of sauce on the plate. Although the crunchy espresso brittle makes for a pretty presentation, it needed to be thinner and preferably crumbled around the plate to make it easier to incorporate into the dessert. Overall, while decent, the pie didn’t leave me overly satisfied.

Maybe this is Ravine’s way of calling you to finish off the meal with another glass of wine. Because being nestled under a gazebo while overlooking their vineyard makes for a peaceful setting. Find yourself a designated driver and have a bottle of bubbly to end.

If you’re able to withstand a bit of uncertainty, having lunch at Famiglia Baldassarre will be a reward for your resilience and patience. Over two hours (12-2pm) on Wednesday to Friday, Famiglia dishes out pasta fresh from their line, passing over plates of hot steaming carbs that causes its recipient’s eyes to light up.

Famiglia doesn’t take reservations so get there early if you want to eat at one of their five indoor tables or ten (approximately) patio areas (warning, one person will need to sit on a hay bale). The process is simple: wait, order at the counter, sit at the table they point you to (do not try to sneak out of line to secure a spot), help yourself to cutlery and bread, have a seat, and then wait for your name to be called as dishes are ready.

With a choice of two pastas (each with a white and red sauce option), three sides, and two desserts, you’ll want to go with a buddy to share and try a few things. On our visit, they were offering a tagliatelle ($16) and ricotta & spinach ravioli ($16), which we ordered with ragu and al bianco, respectively.

Before the main event arrived, we tucked into a ball of freshly made fior di latte ($9.50) and thinly shaved 16-month crudo di Parma ($7), which were the perfect compliments to their soft crusty bread. The house made mozzarella was simply adorned with a sprinkling of salt, so the cheese’s creaminess came out in flavour and texture. Meanwhile, the Parma ham had a delicate salty sweetness to it that was great on its own or on the bread.

With two chefs manning three portable induction cooktops, the pastas were churned out at a quick pace. First up, the ravioli where the pasta was so silky since they were literally being made-to-order. In hindsight, we should have gotten these with sugo rosso sauce as the ricotta filling was neutral and needed more seasoning. The butter and cheese sauce, while allowing the spinach flavours to come out, seemed too plain. However, it did make for a tasty bite once I added on a piece of mozzarella and prosciutto.

The tagliatelle was divine and was made to marry the ragu. Who doesn’t like a forkful of smooth chewy pasta coated with a fresh tomato meat sauce? We loved it so much that a second helping was ordered along with a third to go by my friend.

If you order the tiramisu ($5), they’ll write your name on the cup and keep in in the fridge so that when you’re ready for it, the dessert remains cool. I’m glad they actually use mascarpone in the creamy base – and plenty of it given the richness of the custard. Yet, I could have had more of the espresso-soaked cake as it’s the combination of slightly bitter and sweet along with the moist lady finger with cream that I like.

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. 

Mamajoun specializes in lahmajoun pizzas and wraps – try saying that three times fast. In the west, we may refer to lahmajoun as an Armenian pizza or flatbread. It’s topped with any ingredient, but traditionally tends to be a beef spread made with tomatoes, spices, and herbs.

The restaurant starts with fresh dough that’s flattened into an ultra-thin base before topping it and then cooking in a high heat oven.  With “Pizzeria” being a part of their name, I opted to try two of the pies. First, one that best matched my preference, an Italian sausage and peppers pizza ($15.50 for a small) that’s not traditional but sounds tasty.

Crispy around the edges and soft but not soggy in the centre, this is a thin crust lover’s dream. The toppings are spread very close to the edges so that each bite is filled with cheese, tomato sauce, peppers, onion, and rounds of meat. With so many ingredients it could have easily become too salty. Yet, it wasn’t. Flavourful, yes, but not too overpowering. This was a good start.

Their Armenian pizza ($15.50 for a small) was punchier, the tomato and cheese base also enhanced with a spiced beef spread before being topped with soujouk (a drier and more flavourful sausage) and onions. While I enjoyed the hints of spice on the pizza, I also found it was too soft: the bottom of the crust not toasted enough and aside from the onions nothing to give it texture. It’s also a heavier feeling pizza due to the double meat and cheese. Slivers of bell peppers and mint would be a great addition to this pie.

Where the restaurant stands out is their jouns and at about $5 a wrap, they are also a great value. The Papajoun ($5.50) is like the Armenian pizza, the dough topped with red pepper paste, ground beef, onions, and garlic - it’s spicier but not quite as heavy as there isn’t any cheese.

To the Papajoun I added chicken (supplemental $4), which gave the wrap more heft without additional flavour. Why I prefer a joun is the ability to customize without additional costs. Some pickled turnips, mint, and tomatoes added a freshness to the wrap. While there was already some heat in the red pepper paste, it could have been spicier for me. Be sure to ask for pickled jalapenos or hot banana peppers if you like it spicy.

If you’re lucky, some mante may be available as an off-menu item. Owner Mihran stresses that these are best eaten right away as what makes them delicious are the dumpling’s crispy edges. Armenian mante are so much better than the Turkish and Lebanese versions I’ve tried in the past. The thin dough and crunchy toasted bits are certainly a draw, but I loved that they sit in a savoury tomato and chicken stock sauce with only a dollop of yoghurt. In the past, I often didn’t like the dish because there was just too much yoghurt that it felt like I was eating a yoghurt bowl with bites of meaty dough – sounds gross, huh?

For a sweet ending, the rice pudding ($2.50) was beckoning. The dessert was creamy and thick, adequately sweet, and brimming with cinnamon notes. The cup-sized portion would be a filling ending for one or just enough to share amongst two people.

Mamajoun also operates a small store selling preserves, sauces, and juices. With so many options to choose from, a tasting session would be a great way to feature the items if the restaurant ever wants to branch into special events.

As for now, there’s a host of jerky available to sample while you’re waiting the 10-20 minutes for your order to be ready. These are also freshly made with minimal preservatives, so it’s recommended that they’re stored in a fridge.

If it weren’t for Mamajoun being featured in a Yelp event, I would have never noticed and stopped at the plaza it is located in. Such a shame, as I would have never met the passionate and friendly people operating the restaurant (and jerky business), tasted a filling and flavourful joun, and had mante that I’d order again.

Overall mark - 7 out of 10

Have a glance at Toronto’s Michelin list and you’ll find a host of Japanese restaurants earning stars, including Sushi Masaki Saito who claimed the city’s only two-star ranking. Give it a year or two, but I sense the newly opened Kappo Sato will join the list as well.

Like the other contenders, Kappo Sato serves an omakase menu offered at two price points, $260 and $320, the later includes an additional sashimi platter and sake steamed fish. Both courses, while delicious, weren’t the highlight of my meal, so if you have a dainty appetite the $260 option will leave you satisfied.

With sixteen courses, the $320 omakase left me pleasantly full. To start, pieces of skinless fried eggplant that were nice and creamy. Although, it would be even better served warm, especially when topped with cold uni and caviar. Paired with cubes of sweet poached lobster, the “small” seasonal dish was wonderfully decadent, just a taste of the things to come.

More uni followed in the appetizer platter. In this case, the sea urchin mixed with yuba or thin sheets of soy that’s formed in the tofu making process. The two are a good combination, the silkiness of the tofu skin glides across the tongue capturing the flavourful savoury gelee while mixed with the creamy uni. The wasabi adds a spike of spice that’s surprisingly powerful for the miniscule portion of the condiment.

The cool yuba complimented the hot fried tile fish, a bite of meaty whitefish with crunchy deep-fried scales. The fish is cooled down with grated radish and a carefully split snap pea garnishes the dish for colour.

Sato’s sashimi course is very different, the fish adorned with other ingredients rather than leaving the seafood plain. The sea eel was topped with plum paste and tangy sisho flower and the lean 10-day aged tuna with Japanese mountain yam and egg yolk. Some of it works - like the plum paste and sisho flower – adding a refreshing element to the fish, others don’t - like the whipped mountain yam and egg yolk – creating something with the consistency of slime.

The nyumen or soup course features a bowl of dashi filled with silky delicious somen noodles. The slice of sea bream was good, but I found its softness too close to the texture of the noodles and would have liked a protein that had some bite or crunch.

We’re told what makes kappo cooking different is that the chef cooks in front you, rather than preparing ingredients in a behind-the-scenes kitchen and merely assembling dishes at the counter. The tempura course highlights the concept best as each of the three items were individually fried and presented.

Three condiments - lemon, salt, and ponzu – provides flavour to the tempura. Don’t worry, you’ll be given instructions on what to use with each item. We’re told to use the lemon and salt for half of the sweet young swordfish and then the ponzu for the second half. They should be more specific on which side of the fish to use each on as the ponzu would have better masked the slight bitterness of the head, while the lemon and salt would let the freshness of the body and tail portion shine. Sadly, I swapped the two.  

Seasonal vegetables of asparagus and fava beans follow, both just cooked through and paired nicely with the ponzu.  

Yet it’s the finisher that really excites, a meaty raw-in-the-middle scallop wrapped in sisho leaf that’s sweet and fragrant. It does need to be drained longer so the batter remains crispy, and I’d suggest sprinkling the salt on (rather than dipping the scallop into the salt) to avoid having it slide out of the tempura coating.

Kappo Sato sets up the meal with a host of video worthy shots, the first being the broiled smoked dish where a gleaming dome was filled with smoke and the cover removed table side. Despite all the fume, the flavours just singed the fish with a smoky essence, the centre of bonito and tuna still tasted neutral.

We’re told the tuna is a lean variety, but it’s so nicely marbled that it can match any otoro, flooding my mouth with a sweet richness. Crispy arrow root chips are given to help cleanse the palette but could easily make for an addictive tv-side snack.

Like the sashimi, Sato’s sushi were beautiful flavourful bites, the bluefish topped with shallot, scallion, and wasabi with the rice nicely warmed. Personally, I would tone down shallot as it was a tad pungent for the fish, nonetheless it was still tasty.

The saba hand roll was served taco style, the rice and fish sandwiched between sisho and crispy seaweed. Another inventively flavourful dish that’s different from what you’d normally receive. It’d be even better if there was a bit of glaze put onto the mackerel.

Sitting in a sweetened vinegar, the mozuku seaweed was silky and reminded me of fat choi but milder and more delicate. It made for a refreshing palette cleanser before the richer grilled unagi, which was lightly brushed with a sweet and savoury glaze. Slightly crispy around the edges, the freshwater eel went nicely with the sansho pepper leaf and wasabi.

If there was any alcohol used in the sake-steamed red snapper it must have evaporated in the cooking process as there wasn’t much flavour to the fish and napa cabbage. Hence, the dish really relied on the house-made ponzu dipping sauce. I like the concept of the dish, but it could have been pulled out of the oven earlier as the fish was a tad overdone.

Two types of tofu follow, the first featured in the cold dish and made with sesame so it had a rich nutty essence. The addition of Sakura, mushroom, and dried shrimp makes for a fragrant bite, although I did find the dried shrimp a bit overpowering with the tofu.  

The second traditional soy tofu sat under a mound of lightly cooked wagyu in a beef consommé. I normally love wagyu but being poached in broth doesn’t do it justice as everything merely tastes oily. My friend described it best as saying it’s like having a non-crispy bacon soup. Should they want to keep it in slices, rolling the beef around asparagus, enoki, or white chives would have been a better choice.

I kept eyeing the copper domes sitting on cooking elements by our counter. Its contents were finally revealed in our last savoury course as the seafood pot-cooked rice. Just close your eyes and inhale as the cover is lifted as the sweet seafood aroma of cooked crustaceans is so intoxicating.

Cooked with dashi the sticky rice became fluffy but still firm, almost like a drier risotto. Studded with clams, rehydrated shrimp, and fish the rice was already teeming with seafood essence but made even richer with a generous portion of ikura (salmon roe). At Kappo Sato you won’t leave hungry because a second helping of rice is available and offered. This was all washed down with a hot mild miso soup.

Just save room for dessert as all three courses were delicious. Firstly, a slice of musk melon that’s so sweet and refreshing. Its sweetness is contrasted by a glass of hot tea that’s so wonderful to sip on after a filling meal.

All the while, an ice cream machine sits on the counter whirling around and holding the second dessert, a freshly made soymilk ice cream. The cold soft serve was paired with azuki bean paste and a matcha shortbread cookie. While there’s a light sweetness to the dish, we’re given a tiny vessel of brown sugar syrup to add to the soymilk dessert to our liking. Use it, I love how it enhanced the bean and ice cream’s flavours.

To end, a strawberry daifuku that’s a mound of azuki with sweet strawberry pieces topped with a delicate sheet of soft mochi. Savour the single kuromame, a sweet black soybean, topping to daifuku that breaks apart to reveal a smooth beany centre. It’s served with another matcha tea, this time light and frothy so there’s a latte quality to the drink minus the dairy.

Aside from his culinary training, Chef Takeshi Sato achieved other accomplishments including being a sake sommelier and qualified to prepare a Japanese tea ceremony – hence the final two cups of matcha served with dessert. He jokingly says he loves drinking, another common theme that seems to run through the upscale Japanese chefs of Toronto.

Chef Sato leads an all-female kitchen brigade who artfully creates and plates the dishes. Takeshi has decades of cooking experience from working in a Michelin restaurant in Tokyo, helming Toronto’s Zen restaurant, and most recently being the official chef of the Japanese Consulate General in Toronto. Now it’s his turn to be an owner of a restaurant in his name, when will his star come?