Grandma Loves You started in 2015, in Germany, as a family business with Sarah and Artin Davoodi, Sarah’s grandmother, and a bun in the oven. When the Davoodis immigrated to Canada, they opened a second location in Toronto to continue the tradition.

Sarah notes Grandma Loves You (GLY) pride themselves on treating customers with care; they want everyone who walks in to feel like they’re being cared for and nourishes while outside of their home. You’ll find that in their overstuffed sandwiches (don’t all grandmothers just want you to eat copious amounts of food?) and the little hand drawn hearts on the packaging.

From the number of customers who visited during my Friday lunch trip, I can see the community is reciprocating the love and has made GLY one of Yelp’s top 100 places to eat in Canada for 2022. There were couples, friends, families, and construction workers abound tucking into handheld creations. One client even acting as an ambassador as someone was trying to decide between GLY and the pizza place next door - sandwiches all the way!

GLY offers an extensive menu of submarines, sandwiches, hotdogs, and croissants. It can be difficult zeroing in on a choice, so I asked Sarah about her favourite items, which includes the gourmet French dog, chef’s choice sub, meatball sub, and the new BLT sub.

Since Sarah loves the subs, I opted for the Chef’s choice ($12.99 for the pictured 6 inch) that’s wrapped in a crunchy soft roll reminiscent of banh mi bread. It’s stuffed to the gills with toppings… I had to press and really stretch out the jaw to get the first bites in. The grilled chicken is neutrally seasoned allowing the house made sauces to shine through, blending into the fried onions to give the sandwich a real savouriness.

Not normally a fan of black olives, they work in the creation, becoming lost in the other ingredients so that it just adds a bit of saltiness. Pickled hot peppers provide interest to the sandwich without too much heat, and the creamy avocado holds everything together. It’s a sub with a lot of different textures and flavours. In other words, my kind of sub.

Same with the gourmet French dog ($9.49), which I was worried would be too sweet. Luckily, the blueberry preserve is more fruit than sugar helping to blend the other ingredients together without becoming the prominent flavour. If anything, the freshly grilled salty wiener comes through the most, GLY uses the long frankfurter that is surprisingly juicy for being a thinner dog. It becomes a “French” dog from the addition of brie, which when warm melts into the ultra soft croissant.

Having a sandwich for lunch seems so normal and overdone, but somehow GLY creates ones that are delicious and sought after. And to Sarah’s benefit, I could sense their care. Of course, I was invited in to try their food, so she made sure to take a few moments out of the crazy rush to answer my questions. But I also saw her invite people to take a seat at a table outside and bring orders out – walking around and calling out names to find the food’s rightful owner. She could have made people wait around for their order, but then that wouldn’t be the loving grandmother way. 

Give yourself an extra ten minutes to drive through the Muskoka Bay Resort compound to arrive at Cliffside restaurant, located at the back of the property, perched on a cliff overlooking their golf course and grounds. You’ll likely be tempted to stop at the hotel-like complex, only to be told to get back into your car and continue driving. It’s also nice to just take in the sights of the resort.

Cliffside consists of a spacious patio offering a more casual atmosphere (ideal for those coming in for a bite after 18 holes or a dip in the pool) and an immaculate dining room resembling a modern lodge with gorgeous soaring ceilings, transforming the restaurant into a special occasion place.

We swooned over the senbei crusted tuna ($20), a starter of ahi tuna wrapped in seaweed and rice cracker bits, deep fried to create a crispy coating but still leaves the fish raw and warmed. Sliced into thick meaty pieces, it’s adorned with a wasabi aioli that gives it Japanese French flair.

The amazing tuna made the shrimp lettuce cups ($17) seem severely underwhelming. Sure, it contained great fresh ingredients like delicate butter lettuce, poached shrimp, and cool vermicelli, but it seemed to be missing something – like a mango slaw (or even the coleslaw they serve with the fish and chips) - anything to give it colour, interest, and more flavours.

Cliffside smartly heats their plates, so the mains arrive and stay piping hot. But it does mean proteins like the seared salmon ($42) should be undercooked to finish, so it’s not completely cooked through when it arrives. Nonetheless, the fish had a nice crust and was still flaky inside.

I wouldn’t have thought to marinade salmon in a rosemary beet mixture, it ends up creating a natural tasting sweet and savoury glaze. Overall, the main is a healthy but filling dish finished with soft creamy stewed lentils, roasted asparagus, and a light citrusy beurre blanc sauce.

Our seafood meal continued with the fish and chips ($24), which had a nice airy crispy beer batter. In lieu of the traditional chips, Cliffside serves the fish with shoestring fries, it’s slightly softer texture almost reminiscent of McDonald’s spuds.

Online reviews generally commend the restaurant’s food but complains about service. Our Friday dinner went off without a hitch with someone around whenever we needed. The only anomaly was Cliffside includes a bread plate and butter knife with their place settings but never actually asks if would like or serves any carb. Perhaps a bit strange, but hardly anything that would mean a flaw in their service.

Besides their ample portions meant we wouldn’t have had room for bread anyways. Cliffside’s lovely location is so calming that we could likely overlook any small flaw. Give me another wine and more time to savour the view instead.

How can you not feel cheerful entering El Pueblito Mexican Restaurant? The cozy dining room is swathed in lively colours galore and there are tons of knick knacks to see while waiting. Unfortunately, you’ll be waiting – to place your order, get drinks, get food, and pay. At least I’ve grown… when in cottage country, I learn to slow down and just enjoy the experience.

A few dishes feature their fish-of-the-day, which was pickerel for the ceviche and tacos during our summer visit. Marinated and cured in an acid of lime and tomatoes, the fish takes on a pink hue in the ceviche ($16) and has the taste of a lighter Arctic char. It’s wonderfully fresh, either by itself or scooped onto a crispy thin tortilla chip, the citrus acid nicely balanced with a hint of heat.

The starter just needed more salt. In fact, all their dishes need more seasoning. Perhaps El Pueblito is trying to respect an ingredient’s natural flavours or cater to Bracebridge’s older demographic, but everything needed an extra hit of salt to finish the dish – maybe they should just leave some at each table.

The same pickerel tasted completely different in the fish tacos ($20), once lightly grilled and topped with pineapple salsa. Since the fish isn’t deep fried and there’s not a typical slaw topping, the tacos are soft; I wish there was a crunchy element to provide textural interest – even some finely chopped bell peppers and red onion would be great.

Still, the tacos were tasty – the corn tortillas chewy and fresh, and the spicy mayo and tomatillo salsa great condiments for the dish. The refried beans were rich and smooth, lovely on its own or smooshed into the rice. The grains get even better once you add in consommé and chopped onions (from the birria tacos). In the end, the fish tacos are a little soft but at least they’re not messy to eat.

Consequently, the complete opposite experience of having a birria taco ($20). Stuffed with beef and deep fried, these arrive blistering hot and need to be wrapped in a tissue to dunk. Having seen many people have the dish at food trucks, it’s a wonder how anyone isn’t covered in consommé and grease without a proper table and dishware. If you’re ordering these, it’s best not to wear white.

The slowly cooked beef was plentiful and tender, but because under seasoned meat and consommé, we couldn’t help feel that the birrias were missing something. I was waiting for a flavourful explosion to erupt, only to be met with a slow-moving stream of lava. The flavours improved once we added tons of the raw onion, cilantro, and avocado into the crispy hot taco, a few sparks in the lava stream.

Saving room for churros ($10 for 6) is essential. When our server asked us whether we wanted six or ten of the pastries, I thought it must be a rehearsed question as why would two people need more than six? One bite into the hot hollow logs of fried dough and we were hooked. Dusted with cinnamon sugar they were already delicious, but a dunk into a creamy thick not-overly-sweet caramel and the dessert was absolutely sublime. Yeah, so maybe we could have devoured ten.

El Pueblito isn’t a large space, so you’ll likely be seated quicker if you’re a table of four or less. For such a small dining room, it’s perplexing on why it’s so difficult to get someone’s attention, especially when there’s no shortage of staff (we counted at least six people working that evening). Perhaps the outdoor patio really divides attention, or the servers need to help in the kitchen, but it’s best to order as much as possible at the beginning of the meal to avoid playing where’s Waldo.

Taco trucks and surf towns go together like salt and pepper. So, it’s not surprising to find places like Tacofino, which has grown from a truck located in a parking lot in Tofino to several brick-and-mortar locations across British Columbia.

For my first taste of these handheld treats, I had to go straight to the source… and its long winding line in the corner of a parking lot. The wait will have you summoning your inner Zen master, our Sunday afternoon visit meant it would take us over 30 minutes to order and another 15 minutes of prep time before digging into our food. The only saving grace is the long wait allows space on the communal picnic tables to free up, you’ll find a place to sit by the time you get your food.

Grab yourself a large bottle of water as things are salty at Tacofino. Perhaps it was just a heavy-handed chef making my order, but I found the soy marinade in the tuna-ta taco ($8.50) so prominent that it was all I could taste (my friend, on the other hand, found theirs fine). It could be that the tuna wasn’t seared long enough so that the soy didn’t have a chance to burn off and caramelize, the fish tasted like it was dunked in soy and quickly swished onto the flat top, so it was barely warm.

Along with the heap of pickled ginger and wakame (sweet seaweed salad), this taco is certainly bold in flavours. It’s a shame as the tuna taco would have been outstanding if the condiments weren’t so overpowering. Despite the decent portion of tuna stuffed into the taco, I could barely taste it.

The Baja-style fish taco ($7.50) was better. The batter was thick but helps to soak up the chipotle mayonnaise and keep the shredded cabbage and pico de gallo adhered to the tortilla. Again, it incorporated some good flavours, and the tempura ling cod was flaky and fried to perfection.

Both are sizeable tacos and would have been sufficient to leave me satisfied. Yet, after waiting so long, I was ravenous and added a pork and kimchi gringa ($8). What exactly is a gringa you ask? To me, they are like quesadillas, but according to Taro Sushi Brooklyn there are three differences between the two toasted tacos: gringas are traditionally eaten cold, filled with beans and cheese, thicker and flatter, and made using wheat flour tortillas. Gringas are also from Mexico while quesadillas originate from Spain.

At Tacofino, their pork and kimchi gringa includes a cheese and slow-cooked pork filling (not just beans) and it is hot (not cold) and toasted until there is a lovely golden crust… the ideal first bite after waiting outside in the cold for so long. Out of the three, this was my favourite. The filling so rich as the juices and grease from the pork and cheese mix together with the pickled kimchi to create a messy gooey bite that is a hit of flavours. Gringa or quesadilla? Who cares, just get it.

Having had my fair share of tacos, what makes Tacofino stand out, aside from their flavourful creations and fresh ingredients, is their flour tortillas. They are grilled until toasted air pockets and edges develop and somehow holds together despite being so thin. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll still need at least a napkin per taco to get through the meal, but the tortillas surprisingly hold up quite nicely.

In the end, is Tacofino worth a visit? If I were to return, I’d opt for a location that keeps us out of the elements while we wait – food truck be damned. I’d also ask if they could put less salt and/or sauce on everything, especially on things with seafood so that the proteins can stand out better. But it’s certainly worth waiting - when in the East Coast, eat like the locals.  

A new Richmond Hill destination, Jokers Theatre and Comedy Club, provides a slew of entertainment options: comedy shows (we’re advised it is the only place for comedy in Richmond Hill), magic shows, and live band karaoke.

With its infancy comes growing pains, which stemmed from a malfunctioning printer, so the kitchen and bar weren’t aware they were receiving orders. Ultimately, this resulted in a 20-minute wait for drinks and over an hour wait for food, during a July visit.

At first, we didn’t mind waiting for food as their martinis ($15 each) were so satisfying. The French martini was dangerously smooth thanks to the sweet Chambord and pineapple juice mixed with the vodka, a lovely summery drink. The Lychee Loves Lips martini was a bit stronger with the addition of lychee liqueur to the vodka. Although, I was a little disappointed to a lemon slice garnishing the drink instead of lychee. Even a canned lychee would really add to the experience.

As much as we loved the drinks, after waiting 45 minutes, we finally asked someone to check on the food. It was then they discovered the kitchen hadn’t received our order and quick fired a complimentary bruschetta (not offered on their regular menu) to keep us satisfied while our meal was being prepared. We were thankful to have something to tie us over.    

I imagine they were rushing to send out food as the frito misto ($19) needed better draining to remove the excess oil and create a crispier flour coating. At least they were well seasoned, and the first bites super crispy and wonderfully hot. Being a frito misto, or a mixture of fried seafood, ideally the appetizer should contain more than a few shrimps. Alternatively, Jokers should consider dropping the scant crustacean and relabel this as fried calamari instead.

With two simple tweaks, the burger ($19) could shine as it was tasty and incorporated fresh ingredients. Firstly, cook the beef to medium so the thick patty isn’t so hard. Otherwise, if pink beef is not in the cards, chefs should form looser patties (so they are less dense) or switch it up and use two thinner patties instead. Secondly, nix the romaine (or at least the rib portion of the lettuce leaf) as the hard and uneven surface area causes the patty to slip and soft brioche bun to break. There’s a reason why ice burg is so widely used. At least the fries were hot and crispy.

My friend noted her steak was cooked to the requested medium rare but had a burnt taste. We figure it stems from two causes: either the pan/grill wasn’t properly cleaned between uses (in this case, make sure they are cleaned) or the black pepper sauce covering the steak was burnt. If it’s the later reason, to ensure the steak doesn’t cool off or overcook, present the steak at the table first and let the customer know the sauce is being prepared again and will be brought separately. I would much rather wait for the sauce than have burnt tasting steak.

Hopefully, as the restaurant matures, they will develop stronger front-of-the-house management or staff will become more cognizant of operations and communicate better. Indeed, businesses are reliant on technology, which causes havoc when there are issues, but seasoned personnel can mitigate or reduce the aftereffects.

For example, I’m surprised it took us checking on our food for Jokers to figure out the kitchen wasn’t getting orders. When they are approaching a busy dinner period and food isn’t being ordered or coming out of the kitchen, shouldn’t someone notice – either the kitchen, our server, or management?

With the drinks, even after technology issues were resolved, we noticed my friend’s second martini sitting at the bar for ~10 minutes before it was finally brought over. Our server was helping serve the Le Petit Chef dinner, but there were other people milling around the bar. Given Jokers operates two venues in one, management needs to be on the lookout for ready-to-serve drinks and food and/or servers need to communicate and ask others to cover when they are serving during Le Petit Chef periods.

It's a shame we didn’t have a better experience as I’m really rooting for Jokers to do well – everyone is so friendly and hospitable that I’d love to go more often. I love that there’s ample free parking and both comedy nights we attended left us in stiches. Plus, I’m a huge fan of magic shows and have been known to belt out songs, so I feel like there’s so much more of Jokers to experience. The only dilemma… to eat dinner or not?  

Prior to my meal at Minami, I did realize it was the sister restaurant of Miku. What I discovered that evening was that the restaurants were named after the daughters of the owner – is he the father-of-the-year or what?

While Miku is known for their flame-licking aburi creations, Minami’s inventiveness goes beyond the blowtorch and into how dishes are visually presented. We decided to see the restaurant in action with their Minami Shokai tasting menu ($150) and a premium sake flight ($35), which we hoped would sip well with all the food.

Slices of miso duck arrive laid on a slightly stale and hard puff pastry, which does little to add to the dish other than make it look more substantial. The duck breast, just cooked through, was a lovely balance of meat & fat and the miso just enough to give it flavour. It’s an interesting choice to start with such a strong protein, yet when paired with fruits helps lighten the dish.

Traditions are certainly thrown out the window as sushi comes before sashimi, six eye-catching pieces of it. The lovely creations take time to prepare, so the rice arrives too cold (and could benefit from more vinegar). I guess you don’t go to Minami for the rice, instead the gold leaf that caps the chu toro, a delicious and lovely show piece.

Personally, I prefer the simpler sushi: the bit of yuzu jelly and wasabi used with the kani helped bring out the crab’s natural flavours without too much fuss; and while the kinmedai was a bit chewy the fish was nonetheless refreshing against some of the heavier pieces.

Minami should consider blowtorching the wagyu tableside as it’s not the greatest cold and I’d skip the uni unless it’s a great quality as it added a slight metallic taste to the sushi. While sampling the surf and turf roll, all I could taste was orange and seaweed so sadly neither of the main elements really shone. Luckily, the bite of salmon maki helped end the dish on a higher note.

Their saikyo-miso sakekasu (try saying that three times fast) marinated sablefish was divine and I liked that other than a dollop of caviar they left the fish sauceless. I’d suggest having the fish first and leaving the “sides” until the end - the honey glazed endive goes nicely with the dish, while the way too oily shiso tempura does not.

You must love the presentation of the sashimi as the billowing dry ice flows around all the fish. Luckily, the seafood was fresh as well and the tuna always a lovely treat. Minami ever so briefly chars the cuttlefish before adding the pops of juicy roe and while this goes fine with soy sauce it would excel with a thicker sauce. Finally, I liked the fresh sweet spot prawn and their use of the entire shrimp as the deep-fried head was crispy as heck and the perfect nibble to end.

The A5 Japanese wagyu stole the show! While it could have been seasoned a little less, the wagyu was so buttery and decadent that I didn’t want the bites to end. Luckily, Minami isn’t stingy with the prized beef, you receive a decent quantity of steak and quite a few sides as well - a lovely crispy potato pave (layers of potato baked) and roasted heirloom carrots.

As a palate cleanser we are brought a plum sorbet popsicle with tart sparkling water… I had the sorbet but skipped the much too fizzy water, give me sake any day.

Despite detesting Bounty bars, the coconut mousse with chocolate was a lot better than I expected. Placed into an impossibly thin chocolate shell, the dessert certainly looked like a coconut and the light mouse and dark chocolate went rather nicely together.

Interesting elements like the house-made coconut noodles were delicious and I could see them using them in a dessert ramen, which could tie-in the Japanese tradition of ending tasting menus with a bowl of noodles. Note to chef: feel free to borrow this idea!

Another reason to visit Minami is their awesome location in Yaletown. What an ideal street to be on with the all the bars and patios, a great way to start and/or end the meal. Whatever happens, when you’re going for the shokai experience, go big or go home. 

There’s no better way to get into the mind of a restaurant than through their chef’s menu. At Richmond Station, every two weeks, their chefs create a tasting menu ($120) with an optional beverage pairing ($75) that tests ideas in progress (some finding a permanent home on the a la carte menu) and others simply showcasing the amazing ingredients available.

Their late July menu started us off with a selection of canapés, a great way to begin so diners have something to nibble on while waiting for the main attractions to arrive. We start with the salmon tart filled with finely chopped salmon, onion, and dill aioli creating a fresh savoury bite. The pastry has a soft crispiness that’s a little unexpected – it tastes like thinly compressed shortbread. The fish was great, but the shell made me ponder.

Luckily, I didn’t have to think for long as my mind was blown by the buttermilk oyster. It is SO good! What a genius idea to use buttermilk and herb oil as the flavouring – the creaminess combines wonderfully with the silky briny oyster, while still having a touch of acid. Ultimately, it allows the oyster to finish sweeter. Move over red onion mignonette, let’s hope buttermilk rains supreme.  

Our server suggests we follow the oyster with the thick tomato bisque, which was fine but not nearly as great as the oyster. Be sure to dig to the bottom of the teacup, that’s where you’ll find pieces of Parmesan crisps that add a salty hit to the soup.

Following orders, we sample the profiterole last as its sweet and salty filling (perhaps a liver mousse with maple syrup?) brings an almost dessert-like finish to the canapés. Personally, I think Richmond Station should consider including one of these with the bill, in lieu of the typical chocolate (the restaurant does put a sweet and salty spin on the mignonettes), as it’s unexpected and ends the meal on a lighter note.

It’s no surprise that the summer menu features a host of seafood: the starter, a scallop crudo, takes a fresh clean scallop and adds bits of radish to enhance the soft shellfish. I love the diced pickled jalapeño that add an unexpected hint of spice, which is calmed by the lime crème fraiche. I’ve always associated Richmond Station with meat (likely because of their famous burger), but this menu shows they do seafood well.

We’re advised the summer squash salad is created from things grown in their garden – barely cooked rounds of zucchini and sweet, peeled tomatoes sitting on a surprisingly rich squash purée that’s spiced with miso. Somehow, they created a feeling of having a “warm” salad without raising the temperature.

The black sea bass was steamed to perfection and the mound of mushroom foam, once mixed with the vermouth cream, creates a comforting cream of mushroom taste – an unexpected and enjoyable twist. While the dish could have become heavy, once you pop one of the Saltspring Island mussels into your mouth, the acidic bite resets the taste buds.

In terms of food, the only slight slip on the menu was the honey-glazed Muscovy duck. While it was cooked well and had great flavours, our piece had a chewy silvery bit running through the meat. Since the duck was left as a larger piece (likely to ensure it stays warmer), that grizzly flaw made it difficult to cut thinly and made for a chewy bite.

My recommendation, if there is a tell-tale silvery sign after cutting into the duck, is for the kitchen to proceed to slice the breast into thin slices… even at the detriment of the meat arriving cooler than normal. In this case, perhaps pour the au jus from a hot vessel tableside to bring heat back into the dish? It’s just a shame when you can’t enjoy the duck to it’s fullest because you have a mound in your mouth that you’re chewing through like Bubblicious.

Cheers to the duck sausage, which was delicious, especially when mixed with a bit of creamed Swiss chard, chanterelle mushrooms, and sour cherry jus.

Richmond Station was smart to serve their pillowy soft bread with the duck, so diners don’t fill-up on the warm milky creation. Normally, I would have devoured both, but by the end of the meal I could only have one. In hindsight, I should have skipped the cup of tomato soup to save room for the roll.

Dessert brought us a custardy vanilla panna cotta topped with tart stewed gooseberries, berry sorbet, and meringue pieces. Like many of the other dishes, Richmond Station seems to always like to feature at least two flavours – in this case sweet and sour – to keep every bite interesting.

The petit fours bring the meal full circle with a fruit tart made with the same crust as the salmon… yes, I still remembered the shortbread like shell by the end of the meal, and it works better for a sweet.  

While the food was a hit, service could improve with two slight adjustments:

• Richmond Station’s cozy upstairs dining room doesn’t make it easy to hear people – especially when they are wearing a mask. I’d recommend having the chef remove their mask when explaining the dish or letting the maskless servers do the talking, as I could only catch every third word of the explanation and didn’t have the heart to keep asking them to repeat themselves.

• If need be, slow down the food service to give the front-of-the-house enough time to do their part. For example, we had to follow-up on our drinks that hadn’t arrived by the time the canapes were presented – champagne goes so well with oysters that it would be a shame not to have them together. And there was an instance where a dish was presented before the cutlery was set – to their credit, the chef noticed right after explaining the dish and went to get the cutlery… at the same time our server arrived to lay it out. I get it, there’s a staffing shortage so these things will happen. Perhaps, slowing down the pace of how quickly dishes are coming out will give servers (especially new and inexperienced ones) more time to complete all their prep work.

At least bill settlements are kept simple. Richmond Station’s prices already includes gratuities, so when you ask for the check, they just add on taxes. The pay machine arrives with the total inputted and ready to tap. So, finalizing the transaction is simply a snap. Don’t worry, I’ll stop doing rhymes now.