A fresh salad like their Caesar ($14) pairs nicely and is large enough to share amongst four to five people. The dressing isn’t overly heavy, which compliments the bacon, semi-dried tomatoes, and grated grana padano garnishes.  

But let’s be honest, people are here for their pies. The dough has a sourdough finish and is stretched paper thin yet still arrives well toasted and crispy so there’s no sogginess, not even at the centre. The medium pizza yields six decent sized pieces, but because it’s not overly heavy, you can easily knock back four slices without a thought. It’s best to budget a large pie for two people and two medium pizzas for three.

I have fond memories of their kale and bacon ($21 for medium or $29 for large) and am glad to see it’s a combination they still make. The oven crisps up the kale, so it become almost chip like and there’s plenty of double smoked bacon chunks to even satisfy my carnivore husband. It’s also a nice white pizza (the base made with garlic oil instead of tomato sauce) to have a different flavour from the other options.

If you want flavour, the killer bee ($21 for medium or $29 for large) is a wonderful combination of spicy, savoury, and sweet. Chunks of peppery Italian sausage creates a richness amongst the gooey cheese. While the pizza could become too heavy, the pickled jalapeno and spicy tomato sauce gives it a heat that helps balance out the pie, while honey provides a sweet finish. I can see why this is one of their most popular pizzas.

The margherita ($19 for medium or $26 for large) is a classic and thankfully the cheese is now more evenly distributed than my first experience. Still with the plainer pizza, I would have liked if they finished it off with a sprinkle of sea salt as the cheese less sections tasted rather plain.

I guess it’s an excellent opportunity to add on a dipping sauce and their creamy garlic ($1.50) is the best version I’ve had. It’s certainly garlicky with chunks seen amongst the mayonnaise, but I like the addition of chives that add a fresher finish. It’s also a nice consistency, not too thick so that is becomes a spread, but not too thin either. Just be mindful, it’s a flavourful dip so a little goes a long way.

While North of Brooklyn’s food impressed, their wine did not. The red arrives ice cold and after letting it sit and warm up, it only marginally improves and was still overly acidic. I’ll stick with beer or a fancy pop next time.

If you can dine-in, it’s the way to go - the crispy crust is so intoxicating fresh from the oven. Even so, after sitting in a take-out container for 15 minutes, the pizza was still good. 

Their online ordering platform was also a breeze to use, and the order was finished right on time to ensure it didn’t sit around waiting. Let’s be honest, once it’s done, it won’t last long anyways… somehow, in our family, within minutes a slice just magically disappears. 

There’s no shortage of fried chicken sandwiches and smashed burgers in Toronto. Over the pandemic, people seemed to be craving handheld comfort food that’s also easy to takeout… oh how the business community responded. In fact, it was during the pandemic that Nozomi Fusion Kitchen opened and soon became a well kept secret in the Bathurst and Lawrence neighbourhood.

The hot honey inferno chicken sandwich ($11.95) was delicious: a thick piece of tender chicken breast covered with a batter that stayed crispy through a car ride home. Just get a bunch of napkins as there’s a plethora of sauces – herbed mayonnaise, chili oil, and hot honey – that gives the sandwich such a flavourful, but messy, bite. And depending on where you’re biting, the taste changes as I found it much spicier at the sandwich’s centre while the sweetness was stronger along the edges.

Instead of a brioche bun, the chicken sandwich would be better paired with something denser as the soft bun couldn’t hold up against all the sauces. Be forewarned: your fingers will be saturated with grease as the bun disintegrates. And while the sandwich incorporates pickled jalapenos, I’d recommend adding chopped onion, which provides a fresh crunchiness to help counteract the heaviness of the fried chicken.

I loved the caramelized crust of the O.G. smashed burger ($9.95) and wish I had thought to take a bite when it was freshly made as once the thin patty cools it doesn’t do the burger justice. Still, it was flavourful without being overly salty despite the liberal smear of Nozomi’s special sauce.

Aside from the sandwiches, Nozomi also offers poke bowls featuring a variety of proteins served over rice, salad, or soba noodles ranging from $10.95 for the crispy tofu to $16.95 for tuna. In fact, the salmon poke with soba is the owner’s favourite things to eat as she finds it refreshing but still substantial enough to satisfy.

Being a mom-and-pop shop, their food is made-to-order and something like a thick chicken breast can take time to prepare. Luckily, you can pre-order to pick-up for a specific time through their website; the system was a breeze to use, and my order was ready by the reserved time. The perfect balance of supporting a small business while enjoying the efficiency of fast food. So, next time you’re craving a chicken sandwich, skip the chains and go small and local instead. 

Time seems to fly by while dining at Casa Paco. It’s not that dining there is particularly action packed or their service is slow, if anything the restaurant exudes a calm vibe and their service is a well timed pace. Somehow, amongst the dim lighting and homey décor, hours just pass by without the constant pressure to vacate the table within a two-hour seating limit.

When I see jamon iberico on the menu, it gets ordered. The thin slices of prized Spanish cured ham are all at once sweet, smoky, and savoury. Casa Paco points out that they serve the “pata negra” ($38) variety of the ham, which indicates it’s produced with pure-bred Iberian pigs. Pedigree aside, it’s tasty and the plate contains plenty of slices to go around.

The duck ragû gnocchi ($26) showed promise with its sizeable portion – a lot heftier than my friend’s tendril of octopus – and intoxicating aroma. And while the sauce was hearty and delicious (the shredded duck tender and flavourful), the actual gnocchi was overcooked and bordered on mushy. Perhaps its because the pasta was boiled and then also cooked in the sauce. If so, the chef either needs to boil the gnocchi less or consider pan frying it to form a crust, prior to finishing it within the ragû.

A dessert is a must, and the coffee cardamom cheesecake ($15) is highly recommended. Prepared crustless, the outer edges of the sweet takes on a Basque cheesecake quality so it’s caramelized and dense. Yet, at the centre there’s a lovely coffee cardamom sauce that gives it a lovely hit of cool sweetness that’s almost like a cold molten lava cake. A unique dessert indeed.

I preferred the cheesecake to the brûléed lemon flan ($11) where the sugar was overly toasted and started emitting a bitter taste. The sugar slight slip aside, the dollop of cool cream against the slightly warm flan was a nice touch.  

It wasn’t until after the dinner that I came across a Toronto Life article about Casa Paco. What makes it particularly unique is their four owners - Rob Bragagnolo, Caroline Chinery, Tommy Conrad, Ailbhe McMahon – are also the restaurant’s only staff, giving the establishment a mom and pop feel as customers will continually encounter the same faces.

Maybe that’s why we found dining there so relaxing. We felt taken care of and loved hearing McMahon mention that several of the flora scattered throughout the restaurant was saved from a local resident who had too many at their home and forced by their landlord to dispose of them. If only I lived in Little Italy, I too would become a familiar face amongst Casa Paco. 

Ten dollars doesn’t buy much lately. Even more so when you’re dining out and combos at fast food restaurants are in the double digits. Which made walking into Bethune’s Bistro a quaint surprise, as you can still get quite a bit for $10.

The classic breakfast ($9.95) consists of a choice of eggs, protein (bacon, sausage, or ham), home fries, and toast. I’m glad to see their scrambled eggs are made with real eggs and not the boxed liquid ones; I could tell from the telltale flecks of white mixed in with the yolk and denser texture.

Their bacon was also tasty: crispy, not too salty, and had a nice smoky flavour. If anything, the home fries could use more time on the flat top to develop a crispier crust, but they were still decent and would pair nicely with fried eggs to create a soft hash.

I was excited to see the lovely caramelization on the house pancakes ($9.95 for three) but it didn’t really translate into flavour. As pancakes go, they’re nice and fluffy but also store-bought tasting, especially when served with packaged table syrup.

Bethune’s plain house burger ($9.95) reminded me of the ones I had in high school at Johnny Andersons. The beef patty is thicker than McDonalds, but also seems to be mixed with flour as it has a softer consistency. Still, it had a nice crust, and was adorned with all the classic fixings: mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, and onion. The French fries are also a step up from the home fries – crispy, hot, and made with real potatoes.  

The low prices may partially be attributed to Bethune’s lean (but not mean) staff. Even on weekends there’s usually only one person out front and presumably one chef. Yet, service was efficient, and I’ve always felt taken care of and welcomed.

If you’re in Gravenhurst, I’d recommend skipping fast food and support local at Bethune’s Bistro instead. While it’s more aptly described as a diner or family-style restaurant (as opposed to a bistro), there’s a friendly small-town charm to the place and you won’t leave broke or hungry. 

I’ve never been a fan of surprises. As a child, I would secretly open Christmas presents and re-wrap them while my parents were out. As an adult, I usually set plans in motion for big days to avoid a surprise later on. Yet, when it comes to eating, a secret menu is one surprise I don’t mind. At LUST (Luke’s Underground Supper Table) you sign up knowing only the date and theme, even the location (somewhere in downtown Toronto) is a secret with the exact address being released two days before the dinner.

After a pandemic hiatus, February marked the launch of LUST 2.0, my first foray at dining at Luke’s table. The theme of the menu ($100 per person) would be influenced by his travels around India and LUST described the experience as, “a dinner party atmosphere, combined with sexy foods from around the world. It’s about laughing, sipping, chatting, and eating groovy comfort food.”

True to their promise, the Thursday before the dinner, they announced the event was being held at an event space at Queen and Bathurst. Based on website photos and past articles, I was expecting a long communal table amongst an open kitchen where guests could watch him cook while they mingled and conversed. Somehow, the 2.0 version downgraded the dinner party to packing thirty people into a small dark room with terrible lighting (hence the weird sepia hued photos) seated at a mishmash of tables and chairs that seemed to be borrowed from different homes. If you enjoy eating dinner on a barstool at a console table, LUST 2.0 is the place for you.

The open kitchen was also a pipe dream, rather our meal seemed to be reheated in toaster ovens before being assembled and served on disposable dishes. Sure, the dinner invite said to BYOB; little did I realize I should also bring my own wine glass as well. For a dinner series that is reoccurring, I’m surprised LUST isn’t investing in a set of dishes, cups, and utensils that would certainly increase the enjoyment factor of the meal.

Still, it’s amazing what Chef Luke can do with five toaster ovens and a small table for plating. The first course was a chicken “lollipop”. Generally, this dish features the drumette of a chicken wing where the meat is frenched from the bone to create a sphere of meat that can be bitten off in a bite. LUST’s version is more ice cream cone sized than a lollipop, with minced dark meat mixed with spices, reformed onto the bone, and coated with panko crumbs.

The lollipop was described as stuffed with butter, which will ooze out in a sexy tantalizing manner and enhanced with an addictive spicy garlic sauce. In reality, the chicken was too pulverized and the butter must have already soaked into the binding ingredients as there wasn’t a drop to ooze. The accompanying sauce was also run-of-the-mill (it reminds of Trader Joe’s crunchy chili oil) and didn’t go well with the lollipop; a traditional chili mint chutney would have been preferred.

Luckily, as the menu progressed, it improved. Although the chaat looked messy and wasn’t the easiest to eat, this oversized “king” version was delicious. Chef Luke noted 25 ingredients were used in the dish including black and white channa (chickpea curries), nori, yogurt, a host of spices, and various tasty bits on top. As I cut through the different parts of the chaat and scooped up the various elements into the bite, the mix of flavours and textures pulled together deliciously. There was too much yoghurt, its saucy tanginess overpowering a lot of the other ingredients, but at least it helped bind the 20+ ingredients together.

With the limited counter space, plating seemed to be a challenging affair. Consequently, dishes took a while to assemble causing the shrimp curry to arrive lukewarm. Nonetheless, the flavours were on point, the spicy ginger curry having enough kick to leave the tongue tingling but still mellowed with the coconut milk. Served on top of a mound of cumin-laced jeera rice, the grain was interestingly the sticky variety (rather than a traditional basmati rice), likely to help with the dish’s presentation.

The shrimp curry was only the warmup as the heat increased in the following Kerala pepper pork and had everyone requesting more water – why didn’t I save the bowl of chaat yoghurt? The chunks of shredded pork shoulder were rather lean tasting but still tender. We were greeted with big bursts of peppery bites that ended with a savoury acidic finish. And while the dish lacked the cooling raita it desperately needed, there was a chilled cucumber and onion salad to create a brief respite against the spice.

The end of the meal brought what I’ll describe as silver leaf cookies with a thick creamy rose water sauce. While I was stuffed by dessert, the soft cookies were delicious and satisfied the sweet tooth without the heavy sugariness of traditional Indian sweets. Alas, the cookies were missing a cup of chai.

Chef Luke’s attention also fizzled out as the evening progressed. With the chicken lollipops, he introduced the dish before it was served – a practice you’d expect from a chef led dinner. With the second and third courses, the explanations came later, and by dessert he didn’t even bother announcing what we were having.

Ultimately, the experience ended awkwardly with no final announcement. Finally, a few tables just started leaving spurring us and about half the restaurant to do the same. There was no goodbye speech, a missed opportunity to promote the next dinner or Chef Luke’s catering business.

Consequently, while the food was decent, what the experience lacked was the “groovy” dinner party atmosphere you’d expect a supper club would capture. The dimly lit packed environment made it difficult to walk around and meet the other guests. People ended up keeping to themselves and the loud music made it hard to even converse with the strangers at our table. By the end of the three-and-a-half-hour meal, guests just seemed tired and ready to leave. It certainly wasn’t a sexy event and not something I’d LUST after experiencing again. 

What’s old – er… excuse me, vintage – seems to be in demand lately. The era of a simpler life, less demands, better quality, whatever. We yearn for it. Stepping into Old Avenue Restaurant and Bakery, these vintage elements scream at you from the walls. It’s designed to look like it’s been operating forever, not newly opened in late 2022.

Their menu offers a variety of dishes from the Southern Caucasus region - modern day Armenia, Georgia, and Azerbaijan. It’s a lengthy proposal with so many delicious sounding dishes that it will take several visits for me to try everything I want. That is, if I can stop ordering items I’ve already found tasty.

A post-university trip took me around Europe for a month and it was along the Austrian borders I was introduced to goulash, a fragrant spiced beef and vegetable soup that was so comforting. The goulash in North America is different, usually a thicker stew-like consistency and while stocked with meat and potatoes there’s generally little spice.

Seeing borscht ($8) described on Old Avenue’s menu, the ingredients instantly reminded me of the goulash of Austria: beef, tomatoes, cabbage, onions, potatoes, carrots, greens, and a touch of beets. Served in a covered claypot, the soup arrived piping hot and once the lid was removed, I was greeted with the European aroma. The broth was teeming with umami without the acidy of the tomatoes and filled with chunks of tender beef and finely sliced vegetables that blended wonderfully.

Old Avenue’s blintzes with meat ($10 for 2 pieces) arrived with a spectacular golden crust, adding a bit of crunch to the otherwise soft and delicate crepes. The mixture of finely ground beef and onion inside was perfectly seasoned creating flavour without being overly fussy or salty.

In fact, anything wrapped at Old Avenue is a hit. Their Azerbaijan style lula wrap ($20) reminded me of a burger, donair, and burrito all mixed into one. Ground beef and lamb were formed into kebabs and grilled then combined with thinly sliced tomatoes, pickles, onion, and mayo in a chewy wrap that got a lovely toasting just like the blintzes.

My error was taking the paper off the wrap as the thin creamy sauce simply wanted to gush out of the wrap on the first bite. A bit of messiness aside, the lula wrap was delicious – its heartiness balanced out by the acid of the garlicky pickles. The fries were equally impressive, uber crispy on the outside and fluffy inside. They were also perfect for dipping into the saucy wrap – next time I’ll even stuff a couple inside to create a dish like a gyro.

After all the meaty dishes, we were glad the kitchen sent out some pumpkin manti ($14 for 4 pieces) that were mistakenly mixed with the meat version we had ordered. Personally, I preferred the pumpkin; the squash made into a puree with some strands left in for texture that went nicely with the thin chewy dumpling wrapper. Conversely, the beef and onion version were too dense, the filling forming a meatball rather than loose like the blintzes.

Served with a slightly spicy salsa, the condiment added a pop of flavour and freshness that awoken the manti. Still, I couldn’t help smearing more sauce from the other dishes (like the garlicky humus that comes with the complimentary hot bread or the ricotta-like spread from the khachapuri lobiani) to give the manti even more flavour. My recommendation: don’t give back any of the house-made sauces as they are wonderful across the dishes.

The Georgian khachapuri lobiani ($24) wouldn’t be a dish I’d order again. While I enjoyed the buttery thin bread surrounding the “pie”, the mashed red kidney bean filling was too dry, too dense, and lacked flavour. The menu describes the beans as being mixed with onion, seasoning, and “special” cheese, but all I could taste was beans and maybe a hint of cumin. In the end, there wasn’t much flavour, and the only cheese was the small dollop of the ricotta-like spread that arrived with the gigantic pie.

I tried to salvage the dish by loading it with the salsa, garlic hummus and the mayo from the lula wrap. While it improved the flavours a bit, I still couldn’t get through a full slice of the khachapuri lobiani. Still, don’t let me stop you from trying this Georgian dish, just order it with a large table as one slice is more than enough.

Having had a lovely dinner at Old Avenue, I decided to go back for brunch. The Turkish breakfast ($40 for two people) sounded like an amazing spread but turned out to be a mishmash of cheeses (run of the mill cheddar, smoked gouda, Swiss, cottage, goat cheese, and feta), chopped vegetables, olives, and condiments. It’s not overly exciting and oddly served with a cheese pede when there’s already so much dairy.

The scrambled eggs and Turkish sausage, also meant to serve two people, consisted of literally two eggs and a handful of cut sausage medallions that was hardly enough for a duo. For my tastes, I’d rather Old Avenue should remove some of the cheeses and serve more of the hot items.

Still, the Turkish breakfast was a cost-effective option as it also included a large pot of Turkish tea served in gorgeous ornate cups.

Normally, a restaurant omelette is large and fluffy. The Old Avenue omelet ($15) was thin like a crepe and filled with tons of vegetables and herbs creating a light and refreshing dish. Still, I could have done without the tarte vinegar drizzled over the top and found it needed a richer element to give the eggs interest. Luckily, there was plenty of feta and goat cheese from the Turkish breakfast I could add to the omelette.

So maybe a Southern Caucasus breakfast is not my thing. Nevertheless, I love the atmosphere at Old Avenue Restaurant and Bakery: warm, inviting, and the real tapered candles gives the restaurant an almost romantic feeling if the dining room wasn’t so eccentric. 

After dining in so many minimalist dining rooms, the blast-from-the-past kitschy items adorning the walls is a welcomed change.

Overall mark - 7.5 out of 10

If mom and pop restaurants are your jam, Yunxi Handmade Noodles will have you swooning as it’s an intimate establishment. Technically, Yunxi would be considered a mom restaurant as the female owner acts as the Jill of all trades: hostess, chef, server, and cleaner. She’s a sweet lady describing what was freshly prepared for the day (in my case, the noodles) as she rotates between making noodles and preparing dumplings daily.

The broth of the braised beef noodles ($14.99) was salty and strong, as one should expect from a dish that’s essentially beef braised in soy sauce. I liked that Yunxi finishes the freshly made noodles in the soup to allow it to soak in flavours and develop a brownish tint. While there wasn’t a whole lot of beef, the handful of chunks were lean and tender.

Halfway through the meal, the owner returns with a small bowl of extra noodles, asking if we’d like a complementary top-up. Why of course, and into the bowl they go for round two.

My first choice in dumplings (leek, shrimp, and pork) was sold out so we opted for the chicken and mushroom instead ($10.99 for 12). With a choice of preparation - steamed, boiled, or pan fried – I generally order them steamed as I find this leaves the dumplings the most neutral so you can appreciate the filling’s flavours and the consistency of the wrapper.

Unlike the noodles, the dumplings were made previously (at least a couple of days prior) so the wrapper was too hard and chewy. Consequently, I’d recommend asking the owner when things were prepared and if it isn’t fresh, order the dumplings boiled to give the wrapper some extra hydration.

At least the filling was juicy – use a spoon to ensure the juices aren’t lost as they squirt out – and the dumplings were filled with a decent portion of the well seasoned, finely minced chicken and mushrooms.

Yunxi Handmade Noodles is a bit of a hole-in-the-wall: the décor is sparse and the communal steel spoons housed at each table seem unhygienic. Luckily, larger ladles were given after serving the braised noodles so we didn’t need to rely on the dubious spoons. Yet, what Yunxi lacks was more than made up by the friendly owner and the wonderful noodles, a definite highlight to our meal.