Despite it’s British sounding name, Pinkerton's Snack Bar’s menu decidedly has an Asian influence. The kitchen and the bar seemed to have developed separately, as their drink menu leans towards classic cocktails like my favourite of the evening… the paloma ($16), adorned with a lovely pink peppercorn salt rim that adds a kick to the tequila, mezcal, and citrusy drink. Beautifully made but hardly seems like a drink that pairs with fried rice.

Still, I enjoyed it with a plate of duck fried rice ($18). It’s a good version of the dish, filled with flavours thanks to duck confit chunks mixed with micro chopped vegetables, egg, and hoisin that added a savoury richness. My only grumble is the rice was too fresh – every Asian knows that day old is best for frying – so the dish was too wet.

The crispy salt and pepper tofu ($13) arrived hot and crunchy and would have been delicious if it weren’t for the accompanying spicy tomato chutney. While I didn’t find it revolting, tofu and marinara isn’t really the greatest combination, especially when I was looking forward to the more traditional chopped bell pepper and onions relish version instead.

I enjoyed the soft buns used by Pinkerton’s for their bao buns ($15 for two), but they needed more filling. There was too much batter on the small pieces of Korean fried chicken, so the protein became dry and leaned towards a jerky consistency. The bulgogi sirloin was better, the beef more pronounced, and being marinated helps to keep things moist, especially when dressed with carrot slaw and spicy mayo.

Surprisingly there wasn’t a leaf of fermented cabbage in the kimchi fries ($12) - I then realized the menu description says it’s topped with kimchi mayo and pickled vegetables but not actual kimchi. The flavours came through in the mayo, but I found there were too many greens compared to the actual spuds, so the dish wasn’t hot enough.

Ultimately, Pinkerton is aptly named as a snack bar and not a restaurant. Their food will satisfy a boozy stomach but won’t wow the taste buds. Luckily, their cocktails do, such as the beautiful floral French 75 ($16). The cocktail’s lavender and jasmine elements weren’t too overwhelming, additives that can sometimes leave a drink tasting like dish detergent. Rather, it was refreshing, a lovely drink to sip on a hot day.

If Pinkerton were a person, I’d imagine them to be a nonchalant non-binary individual who has an effortless cool factor. Their origin is hard to pin down, not all qualities are great, but you can’t help but want to be invited out with them anyways. 

For me, a restaurant’s a hit when I’m already planning on who I can return with during my first meal. Such was the case with Miss Likklemore’s, one spoon of the sock-you-in-the-mouth rice from the crab XO ($62) and I was hooked. If risotto made sweet love to a tropical gumbo, perhaps this is would be their love child. To say it’s flavourful is an understatement: there’s a rich savouriness, hits of tangy spice from pickled chilis, a sweet tropical essence from pineapple (?) and toasted coconut chips, and a hit of freshness from the occasional cilantro.

If this weren’t enough, pea sized chunks of crab are strewn throughout with a whole cluster nestled on top, slathered in butter, and topped with a mild XO sauce. It’s messy to eat but there’s something exhilarating about grabbing onto a crab leg and cracking it opened with your bare hands. If only there was some wet naps to deal with the after math… I feel sorry for the restaurant’s cleaners, no one should have to witness the state of my cloth napkin.

If Miss Likklemore’s was a real person, I sense she wouldn’t care about etiquette. The jerk chicken ($35) is carved but served bone-in so that those who are dainty can stick with the hunks of tender breast meat, but the real chicken fans will gladly grab onto the drumstick, thigh, or the ultra-flavourful wing. There wasn’t a dry portion on the bird and the flavours were bang on – a subtle spice that builds and lingers on the tongue but not overly pungent. If you want an extra boost of flavour, more gravy is included to douse and dip.

I would suggest tucking into the jerk chicken as soon as it arrives as it’s delicious when it’s piping hot. Because the dining room is heavily air conditioned, the protein cools down quickly and while it’s still tasty, the last bites are not nearly as good as the first.

Given the oxtail ($65) is swimming in gravy, it somewhat resists getting cold. Yet, you’ll want a few friends to order this sizeable dish as the pieces of beef are huge and meaty, the size of a short rib, cooked just to the point of tender without being overly soft. Still, after some of the more flavourful dishes, I did find the oxtail blander in comparison… ideally, this would be served with a hot sauce so diners could amp up the flavour on the gravy. And it’s a sauce you won’t want to waste so make sure to order a side of fragrant coconut rice ($12).

Even their rock shrimp ($26) surprised us. What looked like the typical battered nuggets – found in modern Japanese restaurants like Ki and Kasa Moto - have such a nuanced flavour at Miss Likklemores. The aioli is spicy but balanced with freshness from the finely chopped mint, and an almost citrusy finish that I can’t quite place (like lemongrass but not quite).

The doubles ($11 for two; $6 for additional) was another popular starter, the bara is fluffy and warm and filled with a savoury chickpea curry. It’s accompanied with tamarind chutney to give it some tanginess if that’s your thing.

Of all the dishes, only the fried snapper ($75) disappointed. While it was beautifully presented and the deboned fillets were cooked to flakey perfection, it was so heavily seasoned that the saltiness gave it a bitter tone. Ultimately, I had to scrape the snapper’s flesh out of the breading to enjoy it. Even then, I hardly needed the escovitch dipping sauce, the fish’s flesh already salty enough, indicating how much seasoning was used on the batter that it’d seep through so thoroughly.

On both weeknight visits, the service was attentive and top-notch, dishes arrive at a good clip without feeling overly rushed. If I had one complaint, it’d be nonchalant attitude to criticism. After each dish was presented, our server would give us ten minutes then stop by to see how things were tasting – us raving about how good it is, of course. Except for the fried snapper where I commented how overly salted it was that it’s barely edible. Disappointingly, there wasn’t a reaction… no “sorry to hear about that, I’ll let the chef know”, no offer for a replacement, nada. In my opinion, if a restaurant’s not ready to right a wrong, they shouldn’t bother asking for feedback to start.

The one slip up aside, I really enjoyed the dishes and even the snapper would have been an incredible dish if it weren’t double seasoned. I sense I’ll be seeing Miss Likklemores again. If she was personified, she’s certainly someone I’d love to become good friends with. 

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.