At first glance, you wouldn’t think Casa Imperial is a Chinese restaurant, much less one that serves authentic dim sum. Set in an altered mansion, the baroque details, gilded frames, and sparkly chandeliers suggests the place would serve more high tea than jasmine tea.

Even though they do not offer an early bird special, the restaurant is still fairly busy, especially on holidays and special occasions – skip Mother’s Day unless you like waiting around and fuming. As for their pricing, it’s in line with the regular menus found elsewhere: $3.80 for small, $4.80 for medium, and $5.80 for large with $1.50 per person tea charge.

My must-have dish is a siu mai (L). The conpoy (dried scallop) topping the pork and shrimp dumpling adds little to the experience and gives the dish a boring beige appearance. Nonetheless, the siu mai itself is tasty; a balanced combination of filling to ensure it’s hearty but not hard.

For something a little more Instagramable, the scallop and spinach dumpling (L) has a nice pop of colour. It’s also fairly flavourful with enough seasoning added to the shrimp filling and wrapper, compared to other places.

Casa Imperial certainly isn’t afraid to lay on the spice, there’s plenty of it in the curry sauce marinating the steamed baby cuttlefish (L). The seafood is enveloped in salt and heat, to the point that you may want to ensure there’s a neutral rice dish to pair with the cuttlefish.

Something like a steamed rice pot, as the sticky rice with conpoy and chicken in lotus leaf (L) already has a lot going on in the fragrant parcel. Aside from the chicken and dried scallop, there’s also pieces of Chinese cured sausage and salted egg yolk, traditional fillings that have been substituted by cheaper minced pork at other restaurants.

The crispy bean curd rice roll with shrimp and pork (L) is such a great combination of textures. Soft silky rice rolls surrounds a shrimp and pork sausage like filling that’s encased in a crunchy bean curd sheet. It’s a little heavy, so make sure there’s at least four of you to share.

Our meal seemed to include a lot of things that spent time in the deep fryer. The crispy meat dumplings (S) and chicken wings with lemon grass (L) both arrive hot, hot, hot! While they’re nothing to rave about, they’re still solid offerings, especially when they’re so fresh from the fryer.

It’s not every day you’ll find fruit mixed with shrimp. In reality, the peach in the crispy spinach nest shrimp roll with peach (L) is simply the puree dipping sauce on the side. The puffy spinach laced batter is pretty, but also fairly oily… I personally still enjoy the plain Jane bean curd sheets. Yet, this combination was better for my denture wearing grandmother, who had no difficulties biting through the airy crust.

Same with the soft black sesame dumpling coated with cashew nut (L), a ball of sticky glutinous rice filled with a warm oozing black sesame paste and covered with powdered and crushed cashews to keep everything from sticking together. It’s a nice way to finish after all the deep fried dishes that graced the second half of brunch.

If you’re not a fan of leftovers, Casa Imperial’s portion sizes are larger than normal, so you’ll want to order less and add on later. Or you’ll just have to get a bigger group together – four or six works best – so that each person gets a mouthful of the dishes. It’s the sampling and varied bites that makes dim sum such a great experience. Even if the oil-based paintings doesn’t make it feel like you’re in a Chinese restaurant.

During my travels to other countries, I only occasionally dine at hotel restaurants, preferring places that are (hopefully) more local or not teeming with tourists. In Dubai, this preference goes out the window. That’s because, it’s mostly in hotels where I’m able to have an alcoholic drink with my meal. And a glass of chilled white wine simply makes the experience of dining al fresco so much better. After all, if you’re going to view the Burj Al Arab closely, why not do it from a sunny patio with a glass of vino?

So, this is how we found ourselves at Dhow and Anchor, a British restaurant located inside the famed Jumeirah Beach Hotel. It seems strange to go to Dubai to have British food, but with the number of expats in the country, they make good British eats – way better than the Chinese options we tasted.

The British coast fisherman’s pie (AED130) was fantastic incorporating big chunks of salmon, cod, and prawns, in a lovely leek gravy and covered with rich mashed potatoes that is more buttery than what you’d normally find on Shepard’s pie. Topped with a bit of cheese gratin, it makes for a heavenly pie that’s simply intoxicating, in taste and aroma.

So much so that it seemed to really draw in the flies. In fact, any dish seemed to attract the pesky buggers. The fly situation at Dhow and Anchor was horrendous with a huge pack of them descending upon the table as soon as our food arrived. We had to constantly have one hand waving in front of our plates, while eating quickly, and finally using our napkin to cover the dishes before they could be whisked away.

The restaurant really needs to invest in table fans that flitter around to help keep the flies away. As it stands, the fisherman’s pie was tasty but actually ingesting the dish was frustrating and rushed. I felt like I was having fast food when the meal should be savoured. Al fresco dining can be great, but I guess that’s the perils of outdoor eating.

I don’t often have sushi in a restaurant whose menu isn’t entirely Japanese, but Planta Queen’s nigiri is so inventive that you should try it once. As the ahi watermelon ($5.25 for two) and unagi eggplant ($5.25 for two) are placed before us, I’m marveled by how much they look like lean tuna and mackerel. In reality, the consistency and taste doesn’t resemble fish – the watermelon has a strong ginger flavour and the eggplant a slight smokiness – yet, it also doesn’t taste like the fruit or vegetable it’s made from. It just works!

The ahi watermelon makes its way into the rainbow roll ($15) and spicy tuna roll ($15) as well. Of the two, the rainbow roll has more interest: the soft pressed watermelon paired with creamy avocado and mayo, crispy romaine, and a sliver of bright shiso leaf. The spicy tuna roll is fine, but relies a lot on the spicy aioli for flavour.

You wouldn’t want an entire order of gomae ($12.25) for yourself. Even though it’s essentially just boiled spinach tossed in a sesame dressing with crisped rice thrown on top, the nutty sauce is also what makes it fairly rich as well. Yet, when shared, it’s a nice way to start the meal or even to finish off with something refreshing.  

On the other hand, I could easily down an entire bowl of the mushroom dashi ($8.95). It’s everything you want during the winter: a warm bowl of rich consommé, enoki and shiitake mushrooms peppered throughout, and cubes of delicate tofu sitting at the bottom. It’s simple and heavenly.

Planta’s Hakka rice noodles ($17.50) doesn’t really taste like anything I’ve ever had at a Hakka restaurant, but it could easily grace the menu of a Thai establishment. The coconut green curry base has a lovely aroma and a hint of heat, but could use more salt. As it stands, the dish of rice noodles with tofu and Chinese broccoli (gai lan) was fine but didn’t overly excite.

The udon ($18.75) was a hundred times better. In this case, the rice noodles (since we were having the gluten free version) was tossed in truffle oil and coconut milk creating a creamy base that would make Alfredo weep. There’s no shortage of mushrooms in the dish and is finished off with some snow pea leaves for colour and freshness. Would this dish paired with a bowl of mushroom dashi be too much fungi for one person to handle? Challenge accepted.

In general, Planta Queen uses a lot of truffles, whether it be the infused oil or the real deal. Even the maitake mushroom fried rice ($28) comes with shaved truffle on top, which truthfully doesn’t add that much to the experience. Overall, I expected the dish to offer more – something bursting with wok hay and an umami essence galore. Instead, it was pretty average fried rice with shaved truffles on top.

After the heavier mains, we thought the lemon curd ($12.35) would be a lighter finish to the meal. It certainly was a refreshing end, but the combination of lemon custard with passion fruit gelato makes for such a tarte finish that I’m puckering up thinking of the bite. The meringue needed to be sweeter and the matcha powder dropped all together as the combination of acidic citrus with bitter powder wasn’t necessarily the greatest.

For those who are celiac, you’d be happy to know every dish in this post is celiac friendly and vegan. Planta Queen certainly has an impressive menu of options for various food sensitivities. Best yet, they’re actually tasty and makes you realize that Asian food could easily forgo all the meat, eggs, and gluten and still be fantastic. Mushroom dashi, until we meet again.

I truly believe restaurants don’t need to be fancy or expensive to serve delicious food. This proved to be true when I bit into one of Al Mallah Dhiyafah’s chicken shawarma (AED9). My eyes momentarily closed so I could really savor the delicious chewy pita filled with moist lightly-spiced chicken.

The soft pita was thin enough that the filling’s flavours really came through: nutty tahini with pickles and lettuce for a bit of texture. I immediately started thinking about ordering another one after that first bite… but, thankfully stopped myself as after getting through all the sides was thoroughly stuffed.

Did I regret having the fattoush salad (AED17), when I could have saved room for another meaty log? Not a chance, as the salad was a great way to balance out the otherwise carb and meat heavy meal. Having had fattoush a handful of times, Al Mallah’s is the best with small pieces of chopped lettuce and cucumbers tossed with herbs and really crispy thin fried pita. It was refreshingly citrusy.

I might have skipped the hommos (AED18), which while tasty, was really just well-pureed chickpeas with oil drizzled over top. There wasn’t any other ingredients – tahini, lemon, or even much salt – just a bowl of thick and earthy hummus. There was also a sense of guilt when having another pita as each one was wrapped in a plastic bag – hygienic, but not very environmentally friendly.

If that weren’t enough, there’s even a complimentary plate of pickled vegetables and chilies. They are really salty, so not necessarily the greatest to have plain, but tucked into some pita with the neutral hummus was pretty good.  

Sit (outside or inside) or even grab-and-go, there’s tons of options for dining at Al Mallah Dhiyafah. Just do yourself a favour and go and try one (or two) of their shawarmas.

On my last two visits to Montreal, I’ve tried to secure a reservation at Joe Beef with no luck. Not even when I offered to go on a waiting list - the famed restaurant could never fit me in. Consequently, when I heard their chef de cuisine, Zach Kolomeir, was leaving Montreal to head to Toronto to open Dreyfus, there was hope that I’d finally try their no-nonsense French creations.

A group of girlfriends and I tried to get a reservation at Dreyfus; once again, securing a table for four was impossible. So, I finally changed tactics and decided to visit with my husband instead. Finally, I was able to secure a Saturday sitting without a hitch. Sure, it took half a year, but I was finally on my way.

Once you see the dining room, it’s understandable why acquiring a spot for more than two people is so difficult.  There’s only two larger tables in the whole place and then a row of singles that I guess could be pushed together to form larger tables, but for whatever reason are kept separate. It’s very intimate seating – you will over hear your neighbours’ conversation and most likely need to push your table to touch theirs to get in and out if you’re seated on the bench.

In a nutshell, the restaurant is cozy. This goes for the esthetics, temperature, and service. Your experience will be elevated if you’re served by Keegan deWitt. It’s rare that I try to figure out who our server is, but this guy is AMAZING – Dreyfus, do whatever you need to keep him. Keegan exudes passion without being preachy, is attentive without being annoying, and his knowledge of wine puts most sommeliers to shame.

In fact, a love for a wine is an important quality for working at Dreyfus. They don’t have a wine menu. In fact, there’s no drink menu period. So, our first interactions with Keegan revolved around what we wanted to drink: flat water and a bottle of wine.

We answered a few questions and he comes back with four bottles. In a succinct two-minute presentation, he goes through each bottle explaining their flavour profiles and the wine’s region, ending off with the cost of each one. Prices vary from $85 to $250 and we decide on the Domaine Viret Mareotis ($125). The first sip confirmed that Keegan got us.

So, when he came back to ask what we wanted to order and provided us the option of letting him ‘bring us an experience’, how could we resist? Again, he asked a couple of questions about dietary restrictions and how hungry we were on a scale from 1-10 (a 7 seemed safe) and that’s all we had to do.

It helps as they tailor the size of the starting nibbles to the table. Normally, the first three dishes are $16 each (unclear how many come with each), but for our table of two it was trimmed down to a smaller portion of one or two each (the perfect amount) and the prices also lowered to $12.

The canapes de topinambours ($12 for 2) went so well with the wine. Roasted Jerusalem artichokes forms the base of the canapes, instead of bread, giving the dish a creamy finish and a warmth that’s so lovely for the winter months. Forget trying to hold this in your hand as the artichoke is smothered with light tangy cheese and a warmed sardine that adds a nice muskiness against the slice of ham on top.

There were spinach dip oysters ($12 for 2) topped with feathery parmesan cheese, a dish that sounds heavy but actually quite nicely balanced. Oysters aren’t normally something I enjoy, but the mollusk was covered with so many things that it didn’t have a prominent in taste.

You can’t go wrong with the pommes dauphine ($12 for 4). These lovely potato puffs are as light as air – like a savoury honey cruller for those who have been around a Tim Horton’s. They’re fluffy and aromatic, by itself a delicate and creamy choux pastry, but arrives with thick crème fraiche topped with micro cubes of shallots and a generous portion of caviar. It takes the dauphine to a whole other level of decadence that made us swoon.

A skewer arrives and we’re advised the white chunks in the brochette de lotte ($24) are monkfish. The dense meaty fish was tasty, but perhaps could be cooked a touch less. Yet, any mild protein that sits in such a tasty sauce could do no wrong. It’s described to us as curry, but so light that it reminds me of a thicker and richer bouillabaisse. We must have been looking at the remaining sauce longingly, as a staff member asked if we’d like some bread, which was met with a resounding yes.

While I don’t know a lot of French, one word I do remember is cheval - on account of religiously visiting the now defunct Toronto night club. So, when the tower of filet de cheval lyonnaise ($33) arrived, I pushed thoughts of My Little Pony out of my mind and decided to just enjoy the dish. To be honest, if you didn’t know what cheval means, you’d think its veal or a light beef that’s tender and lean. The silky red wine jus keeps any gaminess at bay.

Dreyfus knows their way around a spud as the lyonnaise potatoes sandwiched between the cheval and the egg are heavenly. Essentially, they are thinly sliced potatoes that’s pan fried in parsley butter (forming lovely toasted edges) and mixed with well-caramelized onions. Just imagine scalloped potatoes, but even better, in my opinion. Mixed with some egg yolk and au jus, I probably could have a plate of the potatoes with eggs and been a happy camper.

To end, this main is smartly paired with an endive salad ($17). Dreyfus’ version of a Waldorf salad, the dish is one I normally detest - fruit (apple) mixed with nuts (walnuts) and topped with a blue cheese dressing? Yuk! Maybe it was the warm wine flowing through my veins, but it all worked together, including the thinned blue cheese dressing that adds tang without funk. Plus, the rosettes of curled cheese were so nice and creamy that I had a second and third helping.

After everything came, we assessed and indeed Keegan was true to his word – at the beginning he noted he’d make sure we’re satisfied but not disgustingly full. Rejoice, there was still room for dessert.

Once again, there’s no menu, instead another server explains she’s the walking dessert menu and lists off three options. The pear strudel ($11) sounded rather plain, but seemed like a dish I’d enjoy. Oh boy, did I enjoy it!

It took a while to arrive because it was being reheated and/or cooked. My first taste: crispy layers of phyllo pastry, warm chunks of cinnamon tossed pears, and creamy whipped cream. It was heavenly, the dessert I didn’t know I wanted to myself. My husband must have sensed something… after a few bites, he smartly left the remaining strudel with me.  

Find a lover or a buddy, hell, even a stranger off the street. Just book a reservation for two at Dreyfus! Whatever you do, do not visit with more than three people as you’ll be squished into a booth at the front of the restaurant that makes a sardine can look spacious; looking at the three couples packed in the table gave me shudders as I flashed back to an unfortunate incident at Grey Gardens.

Also, visit with an empty stomach and an open mind. And, there should be a level of trust as dining omakase style is the way to go. Just don’t be a hero and think you’ll share the strudel, that decision was the only mishap of the evening.

Let’s be honest, you go to Mr. Miyagi for the fun environment, not the food. It’s a cool looking place that looks like it’s been decorated by an organized hoarder: umbrellas lining the wall, picture frames everywhere, and a stamp collection adorning every table lamp. There’s a bar at the back of the restaurant, so after dinner you can stay for the party. The food, on the other hand, is decent, at best.  

The tastiest thing of the night was the shrimp crackers (AED19) hanging on the table lamps, the bag begging to be ripped apart and eaten before the other items arrive. The crackers are the real deal, flavourful with the deep essence of seafood, much like what you’d find in Thailand.

So much better than the Dynamite shrimp (AED45) that’s essentially deep fried shrimp tossed in a crap load of Miracle Whip. A really heavy starter that’s probably beloved, if you like that tangy zesty mayo wannabe.

If things aren’t great, smother it with condiments seems to be the mantra at Miyagi. The sushi aburi roll (AED55) is not flame torched, but rather drowned with avocado cream so you can’t taste an ounce of the salmon wrapping a huge piece of rice.

The Dragon roll (AED55) was even worse; it must have been pre-made earlier in the day as the rice was hard and dry. The menu describes it as being tataki style, which generally means lightly seared at other restaurants. At Miyagi, it translates to fully cooking the salmon and tuna to the point that they taste like they came out of a can, and of course drizzling so much sauce over it that they hope you can’t tell the difference.

There was a chance that the beef sisig (AED49) could be better – at least the flavours were nice – but the meat still so over cooked rendering it like eating bits of leather on crispy wonton crackers.

Of the mains, the curries are the safest bet. Both the green and red versions were decent (AED59 for chicken and AED65 for shrimp), but neither really packing much heat. Not even the red one, which had three chilies listed beside it on the menu, unless you actually have a bite of the bird’s eye chili.

Nonetheless, they’re better than the mee goreng handmade egg noodles (AED49). What it lacks in wok hay, Miyagi tries to make up for dumping more sauce on, but even that couldn’t rehydrate their dry hard tofu. Sadly, I’ve whipped up better noodles at home on a week night with a bottle of store-bought Szechwan sauce.

Aside from the shrimp chips, the only saving grace of the evening was the fact that it was Lady’s Night and our waiter was so friendly and attentive.

Interestingly, for a country that doesn’t allow alcohol to be served outside of hotels, the ones that do sell spirits also offers all-you-can-drink options. At Mr. Miyagi, on Wednesday nights their Lady’s Night menu provides women a choice of two dishes and two hours of unlimited drinks for only AED99. So, the fact that our waiter was on the ball with refills meant I developed a nice buzz even before the food arrived. Not enough for me to actually like the food, of course, but still a memorable night.

As you walk by Urban Hakka, don’t be surprised when the dining room looks empty. Unfortunately, the restaurant inherited a long narrow set-up where the seating area is split into two with a bar in the middle. During the cooler months, they smartly sit guests in the back, where it’s slightly warmer and everyone is hidden from view – a disservice if someone is peering in and deciding whether they want to dine at the place.

The shrimp pakora ($13) is a great way to start the meal. Its batter is applied with enough to cover the large prawns without being overly thick. Although how long the pakoras are fried needs to be standardized – one night it was absolutely perfect creating crispy parcels of prawns, while on a follow-up visit it’s golden but the centre slightly underdone so each bite finishes mushy. While it isn’t overly flavourful, the spicy Thai basil chutney that comes with it is absolutely delicious.

This same chutney goes really well with the Hakka style rice noodles ($12), which is very plain by itself, but is a good choice to pair with other saucier dishes in lieu of rice. They’re essentially like Singapore noodles without the curry.

Urban Hakka’s Singapore noodles ($12) gets the Hakka touch with a healthy dose of curry powder, probably 2 to 2.5 times the normal amount you’ll find at Chinese restaurants. It’s not terrible, but creates a rather strong dish where you’ll only need a small portion.

Luckily, they provide a big bowl of rice with the rest of the dishes and even offers refills if it gets empty. You’ll need the rice to accompany the Manchurian chicken ($12), which packs a flavourful punch. With a choice between wet and dry, we stuck with the recommended dry and it was fantastic - still a moist dish with each morsel of chicken covered with a salty, spicy, aromatic rub that appears to be made with freshly pureed ginger, garlic, and a host of other spices.

Hakka cuisine is essentially Chinese-style cooking outside of China. In Toronto, it tends to signify Chinese dishes with an Indian influence. At Urban Hakka, the dishes that lean towards the Indian side of the spectrum is a lot better, while the Chinese side falls flat. For example, the General Tao chicken ($12) essentially tastes like sweet and sour, which could be overlooked if it wasn’t so saucy that the batter is rendered mushy and it tastes like you’re eating gluey sweet chicken.

The sesame crispy beef ($14) is better, but extremely salty and is too powdery so you taste the flour and corn starch. If you’re going to get a “crispy” protein dish, stick with the crispy chicken ($14), which is cut into larger pieces and not as heavily coated. Nonetheless, eat quickly. When it arrives, scalding hot, the sauce is fantastic; once it starts to cool it begins to crystalize and tastes like candy coated chicken.

I can’t help but notice how their poorly laid out dining room affects the experience. The food delivery companies keep stomping through the dining room to the kitchen in the back, which is distracting when the restaurant is so silent.

Urban Hakka wants to create a serene environment, the décor is posh and there’s jazz music playing in the background. If they’re going to create a tranquil space than they have to go all in and get rid of the distractions… mainly all the people walking by within inches of a diner’s table. Simply ask the delivery people to wait by bar and have a staff member get the food from the kitchen (this could be a problem as the place is already understaffed) or ask the delivery people to go to the kitchen through an outside door (likely the more realistic choice).

Otherwise, Urban Hakka can drop the jazz music all together and just create a livelier loud environment. When I eat Hakka cuisine I’m going for the bold loud flavours. It doesn’t hurt if the restaurant has a vibrant loud environment to go with it.