Benny’s barbecue is surprisingly spacious. Occupying the space of the former Alleycatz, a popular live music and restaurant destination, allows them to have a fair number of picnic tables inside and on the screened in patio. I’d imagine that even on weekends, diners should be able to score a spot with a short wait. Luckily, during my Friday lunch visit, there were plenty of tables available.

What has me salivating every time I think of Benny’s is their St. Louis style side ribs ($12 for ½lb pictured). They are some of the best ribs I’ve ever eaten, the barque wonderfully caramelized containing a hint of sweetness and a bit of spice that lingers. It’s so flavourful that no sauce was required, just bites of the tender pork and its juices was enough for me. They’re so good that a pound to myself is what I’ll need next visit.

Everyone raves about their brisket ($19 for ½lb pictured) and I can see why it’s such a hit. The amount of juice that comes out of each slice is incredible. Maybe it’s the cut we received, but there was a sliver of fat running through the centre that kept it moist to the final bites. I did find the brisket’s rub a tad strong – overly salty and heavy handed on the pepper – but this does help ensure the entire brisket is flavourful. Next time I’ll wipe off some of the rub prior to digging in for the first bite.

The smoked chicken wings ($15 for 1lb) are a Friday special and after two flavourful meats, these still impressed. A fair size, the wings were tender with a light smokiness. These babies were perfect for dunking into Benny’s barbeque sauce, which has a tangy mild sweetness.

Our order arrived with pickled cucumber and onions that were great for cutting through the greasiness of the meat as well as two thin slices of white bread that soaked up the leftover rib and brisket juices. Who would have thought good to the last drop is a slogan that works for barbecue as well?

Despite my fill of meat, the banoffee pudding ($8.50) sounded intriguing – a banana pudding with a toffee glaze. While I found the top portion of the dessert slightly gritty, the bottom was creamy and contained chunks of soft wafer. The bananas could be sliced thinner, or the thicker slices halved, so that there’s a more even distribution of bananas against the custard. Yet, the toffee sauce was fire, thick and perfectly flavoured.

And in case you’re wondering, there really is a Benny - Benny Slan to be exact. What started as a backyard operation and delivering direct to customers during COVID has settled as the current brick-and-mortar location on Yonge. He starts with high quality products, cooks it low-and-slow, and ensures it’s fresh – you won’t find leftovers so arrive early if want to avoid a stock out. Make sure to go early enough to get those side ribs, to not have one of these would be a crime. 

Shunoko reminds me of Shoushin, before it was awarded a Michelin star and their tasting menus now start at $330. The restaurant quietly opened in the spring and was relatively unknown unless you’ve visited their previous location at Yonge and St. Clair. It’s helmed by Chef Jun Kim whose father and uncle both owned sushi restaurants in Korea.

While Shunoko offers an a la carte menu, it’s their omakase that drew my interest. The promise of twelve pieces of sushi, four “tastings”, and a dessert for only $100 seemed too good to be true. I arrived with lowered expectations and was blown away by the experience.

Best yet, there’s also a $30 wine pairing that’s an appealing contrast to the traditional sake pairings. Chef Jun notes that he likes wine, especially natural ones, and prefers its subtle flavours when paired with sushi. He likes to just crack open bottles with friends, while eating sushi, and see what works. Up first, a flute of light dry cava from Barcelona, a classic wine to pair with fish.

The meal started with a cube of cold tofu topped with spot prawn and ikura (salmon fish roe). I’ve never been a fan of the texture of raw shrimp. Shunoko’s was still a bit gummy, although less so than some establishments, but could be even better if it was quickly poached. The combination of briny ikura and soy was also a tad salty, working well with plain tofu but detracts from the shrimp’s sweetness.

Luckily, the following sea bream with ginger dressing was a hit. The sauce reminds me of the concoction used on salads, excepts less vinegary and having a thicker purée consistency. It goes so nicely with the slices of meaty fish, giving it a warm feeling, even though the dish was served cool – you must taste it to understand. The bits of chives rounded it off so nicely.

The first nigiri of the night was fluke wrapped around sisho leaf and topped with a piece of its fin. A lovely fresh start with a bit of interest from the chewy fin piece.

It’s followed by the chicken grunt, which is the strangest tasting fish I’ve ever had. While it looks like it comes from the sea, it has the taste of chicken, especially the chewiness of its skin. There’s a gaminess to the protein that’s mellowed a bit by the chives but could use something stronger like chopped scallions and ginger. While not my favourite bite, it’s nevertheless interesting to try.

Chef Jun simply tops the sea bream with rock salt, which while simplistic changes the taste of the classic fish. It’s savoury and neutral so that you can also enjoy the warm creamy rice, that has a lovely soft consistency but could use a splash more vinegar.

The amber jack was nice and meaty and had a light spicy essence from the pepper leaf topping it. But what made this piece shine was the French cider pairing. The cider must be aged in barrels giving it an olive scent. Yet, when you drink it, there’s a mellow sweetness that finishes off so smoothly, not like the overly fruity and bubbly canned cider you’d find at the LCBO.

One of our favourite pieces of the night was the yellow tail finished with ponzu and chives. It’s perfect for the warm whether, so refreshing and bright.

If Chef Jun didn’t tell me the next piece was striped jack, I’d almost think it’s horse mackerel as there’s such a meatiness to the fish. All while still having a clean neutral finish.

It’s at this point in the meal that the restaurant seemed to be in full swing, the four tables for two and the approximate nine chairs around the sushi bar were almost at capacity. Given Shunoko offers an a la carte and two omakase menus, it’s quite the feat to juggle.

From what we could tell, Chef Jun concentrates on the omakase experience while the other sushi chef focuses on the rest. The sous chef also fills in as the sommelier, explaining what we’re drinking and how many courses it should last.

The biggest flop for me of the evening was the scallop with truffle oil. Oh, truffle oil, such a powerful seasoning that can work with neutral fatty items but overpowers the scallop until it almost tastes bitter. At least it was paired with a gewürztraminer, the wine’s slight sweetness helps to counteract some of the bitterness. It was a lovely version of the German wine, ending with a buttery finish.

Shunoko’s horse mackerel was so refreshingly clean that it’s a testament to Chef Jun’s expertise. He knows how to prepare and neutralize a cut that can sometimes be so overly fishy.

The following Portuguese sardine was a tad gamier, but when paired with onion helped to ensure any fishiness was offset. Surprisingly, the fish was delicate, perhaps it’s because I’m normally familiar with the packed canned variety. This was paired with a French sparkling rosé, a lovely summery wine to finish the tasting.

Oddly, it was the blue fin tuna that had a gaminess, for what is normally a crowd-pleasing piece. I’m wondering if the chef mistakenly called the cherry salmon, which was listed on the board, tuna instead as this really didn’t taste that much like blue fin to us. If it were salmon, it would make more sense, like a concentrated slice of the fish.

I thoroughly enjoyed the bonito that had such a different creamy finish than most establishments. The lightly smoked fish was topped with ponzu and daikon for a bit of freshness.

Another “first taste” of fish for me of the night (aside from the chicken grunt) was the phantom fish. Despite looking like a traditional white fish, it’s rich in taste – almost like a mackerel and bonito morphed into one – so was aptly adorned with shallot to give it a punch. It’s a fascinating fish as it emits a taste that reminded me of the ocean. Let me know if you try this and feel the same.

Finally, something that actually tastes like blue fin tuna, this piece consisting of the belly cut with more chopped tuna on top! Finished with a light floral shisho flower and rock salt, this was another favourite of the evening.

Shunoko’s miso soup must be made with a fish bone broth as there it’s creamy, rich, and has a slight oiliness. Whatever it’s made with, it’s delicious and hearty, even containing some crispy napa cabbage.

Usually, when the soup is served, the meal finishes and turns to dessert. At this point, Chef Jun comes over to ask if we’d still have room for a hand roll. While I was getting full, how do you turn down another taste? He ended up presenting us with a hefty roll filled with sea bream (?), marinated mushrooms, and sisho leaf so there were so many flavours wrapped into one crispy shell.

Imagine our surprise, when the nigiri procession continued with the last piece – a tamago taco. If you’re worried about leaving the restaurant hungry (I’ll admit, my husband and I usually get something from McDonalds after some omakase meals), it won’t happen here. Shunoko’s tamago was three slices wrapped around rice. It was slightly too cold for my taste, but with its sweetness perhaps its meant to be enjoyed like a custard dessert.

Only, we were presented with actual dessert: a rich coconutty taro ice cream. It’s so creamy and delicious that I thought they would have made it in-house, but we’re advised it’s purchased from a third-party. Boy, would I like to get my hands on a take-home pint. There’s a lovely, toasted taste to the ice cream, perhaps it mixes in crispy coconut chips?

If the above sounds like too hefty a meal, Shunoko offers a “Nigiri 10” menu, which consists of ten pieces of sushi (essentially ten of the pieces that is part of their omakase menu), tamago, and miso soup for less ($67 during our dinner). Best yet, this menu doesn’t require pre-ordering with reservations, so if you find yourself walking by Shunoko and have a hankering for good sushi, you can walk-in and enjoy. 

• Pinkerton's Snack Bar
• Maple Leaf Tavern

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.