Alma may impress a “Western” palette, but they can further lean into the Chinese elements to improve dishes. I really really want to LOVE Alma. Any place with a female owner-chef, in this case Anna Chen, is a bonus and the Asian, Italian, and French recipes sound like three delicious cuisines in one. Yet, some of the larger plates need work.

The squid fried rice ($31) needs rebranding – it’s not fried rice, rather an Asian paella. When I think of fried rice, I imagine a dish that emits wok hay (a fragrant, reach into your gut aroma) with individual grains tossed with vegetable and proteins. Alma’s rice was too saucy, the romesco clumping the rice and drowning out the squid. And don’t even get me started on the cashews… an annoying garnish that must be picked out. Drier and nut free, this may resemble fried rice.

I was expecting mouth numbing spice with the Szechuan spiced lamb belly roast ($44) but not prepared for the grainy rub that covered the tongue and meat flavours. What a shame, as the lamb was cooked beautifully and after scraping off the rub it was delicious, especially with a dollop of the salty Chinese olive paste.

With the chopped Chinese olive, the dish reminds me of braised pork belly with preserved vegetables (muy choy coaw yok). I would have preferred the lamb belly to have flavour profiles closer to this traditional dish, enhanced with a bit of Szechuan heat and a roasted crust.

While the black pepper soy sauce in the pork wonton and noodles ($29) was too heavy handed, the noodles were incredible, having a lovely chew that would impress a pastaia. Sadly, this expertise didn’t shift into the wonton’s wrappers, which were too thick. At least the wontons were nice and plump, filled with a generous amount of pork filling (this could benefit from finely chopped vegetables to add moisture). Using scallions in the filling and reducing the amount of garnish would better balance the dish.

Chef Chen’s take on Peking duck ($58), a special for the evening, needs a permanent place on the menu. While the skin wasn’t as crispy as Peking duck, it did have that lovely salty roasted taste and the meat cooked to a medium rare. The well crusted roasted turnips and the creamy foie gras sauce were great complements and left us wanting more.

In fairness, Alma nailed the small plates. The parmesan tapioca fritters ($10 for 2; $5 for additional piece) were crispy, creamy, and captured a depth of flavours that beat out most arancini I’ve had. The tapioca also added a glutinous chewiness that would make a mochi lover swoon.

One look at the beautiful caramel crust on the bao ($17 for 2; $6 for additional piece) and I could why the dish is so popular. Break the bao open and the dough is fluffy and moist… the consistency so perfect that I didn’t even mind that the bun had no filling. Just give more of the stracciatella cheese and eggplant fenugreek dip as the tablespoon portions were too scant to share amongst three buns. I could have used all the eggplant spread on my bun alone it was so good.

Diners may find the chili bean beef tartare ($26) salty, but anyone that’s had chili bean sauce should know it’s sodium laden. Our table loved the finely chopped beef mixture on the thin rice cracker, just handle it delicately to avoid it crumbling.

Eating at Alma is like a rollercoaster… a series of highs and lows. We finished downhill with the coconut flan ($12), the syrup incorporated a strong flavour that just didn’t work - it’s hard to decipher but reminds me of the herbal pei pa kao mixed with white rabbit candy. It overpowered the flan’s egg custard flavour, and the wild blueberries didn’t hold up either.

To continue with the amusement park analogy: dining at Alma was good – the food mostly delicious and the service warm and friendly – it just wasn’t great, so I won’t be signing up for a season’s pass anytime soon.

In a nutshell... 

• Must order: parmesan tapioca fritters and the duck special
• Just skip: squid fried rice and the coconut flan

During my early 30s, I frequently visited the King West area. The down-to-earth night life and boozy establishments drew me in. Then, adulthood set in and finding a restaurant that you could converse in was the goal. This year I turned 40 (and love it), but it’s reminded me to become more balanced – go out and have a night of debauchery, but also maintain those important relationships beyond a superficial drinking night.

That's how I found myself back at Chubby’s Jamaican Kitchen to fit in a little of both. The music was pumping loudly even before entering and was even more deafening once I settled into tightly packed table. Toto, we’re not in an adult-friendly establishment anymore.

Yet, after one drink and another on the way, I settled comfortably into the ratan chair and started tuning out the other patrons, laser focused on my friends … after all, I had to really pay attention to hear what they were saying.

The ackee and saltfish bites ($16 for 3, $3 for an extra piece) would make a great hors d’oeuvre. The fried dumpling base is like a fluffy biscuit topped with a mound of creamy ackee and saltfish spread studded with sweet peppers, onions, and tomatoes. It reminds me of a more fluid crab cake with a pop of freshness.

The pepper shrimp ($19) still knocked a fiery punch bringing on the scotch bonnet zing while swimming in garlic butter. The sauce seemed much thicker, so it really sticks to the seafood or acts as a dip for the crunchy bread.

I wish the kitchen had served the mixed green and mango salad ($17) with the shrimp (instead of with the mains) as it had a refreshing coolness that would have helped tame the spicy shrimp. Ultimately, it’s a salad, which was light on the mango but had some tropical flair from toasted coconut chips.

Oddly, the jerk pork ($24) was completely devoid of the spice and heat you’d expect and tasted like regular barbeque meat. If anything, my favourite part of the dish was the sauteed greens made from kale, collard greens, cherry tomato, and onion. It’s a side that would go great with anything.

As with the previous visit, Chubby’s saucier dishes continue to impress. While I would have liked more heat in the curry chicken ($19), it was nonetheless tender and flavourful, pairing well with the jasmine rice and pineapple chutney.

The gravy from the oxtail stew ($25) was also on point, and pairs well with side dishes like the rice and peas and as a dip for the fried okra ($11). The oxtail was a tad scant on the meat, but what was included was flavourful and tender. I could easily have an entire order of this to myself.

Chubby’s smartly leaves the fried plantain ($10.50) in large chunks, so they don’t dry out. They were the best plantains I’ve ever had, a slight crispiness outside yielding to the soft fruit, with a sprinkling of salt that enhanced its semi-sweetness.

In fact, with a scoop of coconut ice cream and a caramel drizzle, the fried plantains could even sub in for dessert. Consequently, much tastier than the cornmeal pudding ($12), which was too salty and had a non-existent ‘pudding’ element. If anything, the dessert was merely a piece of corn bread covered with fussy corn nuts and a scoop of mellow coconut sorbet.

I would skip the tom yum fried rice with vegetable and tofu ($18) as it's also very tangy and two sour dishes were too much for one meal. Indeed, tom yum's recipe has lemongrass and lime, but these tart elements soaked into the rice it was powerful. Still, I enjoyed all the herbs: galangal (a peppery ginger), basil, and kaffir lime leaves, which added a freshness to the starch. The fried rice was just too wet - Chiang Rai likely uses fresh rather than day old rice – to the point that it tasted better as leftovers.

If you’re a fan of chicken devil, the crispy chicken chilli sauce stir fry ($19) is a stellar version of the dish. I love the big nuggets of battered chicken that’s very lightly covered with the spicy, savoury, and sweet sauce so they remain crunchy. Just get to the chicken quickly as there’s not a lot of pieces amongst the vegetables.

Do not take out your food... Chiang Rai takes the time to beautifully present dishes. Each adorned with deep fried rice noodle sticks, beet ribbons, a stalk of green onion, and an orange slice. And while the décor makes for a great presentation, on subsequent visits I’ll ask for dishes plain as it's also wasteful to discard the garnishes. By dining in you'll also benefit from Chiang Rai's cheerful environment. It won’t necessarily feel like you’re in Thailand, but still funner than sitting around at home. 

When the speed of change is breakneck, it’s refreshing when a restaurant steadfastly beats to their historical drum. I referred to my 2015 post on Jacobs Steakhouse before revisiting and other than a rise in prices (the $19 Caesar salad is now $34), not much has changed.

We still received a detailed menu walk through, but Liam made it informative rather than lecture-like. He pointed out the grass-fed steaks but also explained what this meant for the fat content and taste, to make sure we weren’t disappointed with our choice. Don’t worry, I’m sticking with the tried and true 45-day aged Guelph Hereford.

The table-side prepared Caesar salad ($34 for two) was still a hit with enough dressing to adequately cover the lettuce without being saturated. A mouthful of garlicky umami, the splash of Tabasco  was perhaps a bit more heavy-handed this visit so there was a noticeable kick to the salad. The bacon was still served in chunks, a bit too hard for me. I wish they'd change this to strips so it’s crunchier… they could even place a strip on top (like the sliver of anchovy) as a garnish. Making the croutons from leftover cheese buns, rather than regular bread, could bring the salad to new heights.

Thankfully, no low-carb vegan diet has influenced Jacobs, their cheese buns still make an appearance. One of the highlights of the meal, it’s really a Yorkshire pudding with cheese, slather on butter and these are perfection.

Remembering how tasty the T-bone steak looked previously, we substituted our typical rib eye order with their Guelph prime Hereford bone-in T-bone ($175), a hefty 25oz (when including the bone) and was more than enough to share amongst two.

While not as marbled as my beloved ribeye, it’s a great cut for contrast as you receive a piece of tenderloin and striploin. Both are leaner cuts: the striploin full-flavoured and tenderloin swoon-worthy as it's soft and juicy. The steak's crust was flawless and the seasoning perfectly. For those who find it needs more salt, complimentary condiments – a bacon blue cheese spread, shoyu, chimichurri, and selection of salts – are available.

Amongst our table of ten, we shared five side dishes, and it was more than enough. We ordered two roasted rapini ($22) as the simplicity of the greens – lightly tossed in anchovy butter – is an excellent pairing with meat.

A huge platter of heirloom baby carrots ($22) arrives slathered in a refreshing maple dill crème fraiche, so the vegetable didn’t become too sugary. Just roasted through, they were the perfect consistency and not too mushy. Even though I normally detest roasted carrots, I liked these.

The sauteed mushrooms ($24) were surprisingly tasty thanks to the parsley butter and I preferred the smaller sized mushrooms as they didn’t taste spongy.

Still, there’s something about combining meat and potatoes… a luxurious option being the potato gratin ($24). Uber rich with the layers of cream, cheese, and spuds, you don’t need more than a spoon to satisfy.

The take-home muffin finishes us off but its recipe was tweaked as it was tastier than I remembered. Within the cakey vanilla batter lies a dark chocolate core where the chocolate chunks melt throughout the muffin. The pastry is an ideal sweetness with just a dusting of streusel for an elegant, albeit messy, finish. Hats off to the pastry chef.

Sadly, even Jacobs Steakhouse isn’t immune to change. We learned that they need to vacate the Brant location because of developments and move into the shiny CIBC Square. So slow run to Jacobs now if you want to experience a nostalgic dinner that reminds you of the good old days. 

I hate to stereotype, but who else finds restaurants located close to live performance venues meh? Their strength is their location, while the food is merely decent and service passable. Dine along the strip of King West where the Princess of Wales Theatre, Roy Thompson Hall, and TIFF reside, and you’ll know what I mean.

Sadly, Danforth Sidebar fits the stereotype… being close to the Danforth Music Hall has its downfalls. Perhaps the dish that best showcases my point is the pan seared scallops ($23). The dish’s presentation was pretty but look closely at the scallops and they are unevenly done. Ultimately, they are a tad overcooked, but tastes good.

Yet, good luck trying to add another scallop onto the dish if you arrive as a table of five. The answer is simply, “no”. At first, I thought it was a joke, but it’s sadly not - the reason being the dish hasn’t been priced out per piece. Perhaps it’s my finance background, but can’t the equation be simply solved as $5.75 each ($23 divided by 4)? Rather, the answer is no as Danforth Sidebar doesn’t care to keep guests happy or increase their bill totals.

Their menu’s naming convention could also use some work. It lists the cauliflower cotija ($17) as “corn puree, pickled cactus leaf, jalapenos, cotija cheese, hot honey, warm corn tortilla”. Sounds like an incredible vegetable packed queso dip, sign me up! What arrives is a skillet of watery stir-fried vegetables sprinkled with cheese… what? Why was this not listed as ‘cauliflower tacos’ when there’s a similar item called ‘barbacoa tacos’ on the menu? It’s in fact tacos and not a dip.

If that weren’t bad enough, the cauliflower was too mushy and for something listing corn as the first ingredient there wasn’t much of it in the dish. Once I got past the queso disappointment I found it made an okay taco - at least it had nice flavours from the pickled cactus leaf and hot honey.

The short rib poutine ($21) had the makings of a great dish with a large slab of tender short rib, thin potato fries, large chunks of cheese curds, and a beefy gravy. The beef just wasn’t seasoned enough so the poutine didn’t elicit that sinful richness you normally find in the dish.

Under seasoning was a similar sentiment for the striploin in their salad. Thinking a 5oz steak was too small for a main, we added on more steak (another 4oz) to the steak salad (total cost of $27 with the addition). Steak salad plus steak was a great hack as the kitchen ended up substituting the hanger steak (what normally comes with the steak salad) for a full striploin instead. And the steak could have been delicious if it just arrived saltier and hotter.

The salad itself was delicious combining cherry tomatoes, crunchy cucumber, avocado chunks, and a creamy dressing. With a full steak, the kitchen should have plated it on a larger dish as the tiny side plate made it difficult to cut the meat. Also, having the cold salad on one side and the striploin on the other would also mean the meat wouldn’t cool down as quickly.

One draw to Danforth Sidebar is their reasonably priced wine – a bottle of prosecco was only $36! So maybe it’s less of a pre-show dinner spot and more apt for a round of after-show drinks.

While Es Ventall is set within the city limits of Sant Antoni, walk into the restaurant and you’re transported into an idyllic oasis especially while dining al fresco. Sitting in the courtyard is oddly calming, amongst nature and the enormous fig tree, giving the establishment a charm that’s difficult to replicate elsewhere.  

For diners who aren’t familiar with Ibizan cuisine, Es Ventall’s menu is descriptive listing out the individual ingredients and eliciting a sense of excitement to see how things tie together. The Ibizan tomatoes salad (19€) starts with a bed of ripe chopped tomatoes and tops it with a full burrata, which when broken creates a creaminess to the dish. Strawberries and basil add an interesting refreshing element, but I would have skipped the crunchy pistachios that detract from the silkiness of the salad.

I can’t turn down trying a roasted aubergine (17€), which when done well takes the spongy eggplant and turns it into a creamy concoction. Es Ventall whole roasts the vegetable until it’s soft but still holds its shape and smears a sugary praline and fruit mixture on top. The dish is too dessert-like for me, I wish the praline spread was replaced with something savoury that would go better with the basil cream.

Our waiter describes the tomato and grilled prawn salad (26€) as being smaller, which is an understatement as the dish is truly skimpy. To call the crustaceans on the plate as grilled “prawns” is misleading, the thumb sized items are spot prawn sized, which are generally served by the half cup than individually. These Ibiza prawns are equally sweet, but given their petite size, the chef really needs to give more of these on the plate or at least leave them in the shell.

At the very least, serve the “prawns” with more than a scant quartered tomato, crème fraiche, and an oil sorbet that while adds a lovely richness, melts into nothingness. For the price, this dish needs more tomatoes, other vegetables, and a helping of grilled crostini to swipe up the sauces.

We didn’t order the cuttlefish and Ibiza prawns’ paella with aioli (24€ per serving; a three serving portion pictured below), but the kitchen mistakenly mixed up our order with another table, so we ended up having it as our main. While the dish had a lovely aroma, the rice was awfully salty reminding me of the soy sauce tasting concoction I had in Barcelona a decade earlier. Perhaps this is the traditional way of preparing paella, but the saltiness is so pungent that it detracts from the seafood and the rice becomes saturated in sauce that there’s no crispy bottom. This paella was a bust.

It's a shame, as I had really wanted to try the fideua, a dish that’s made paella style but switches out the rice for pasta instead. For one, it’s rarely seen elsewhere, and I love trying new creations. Alas, the humid August heat was getting to us and despite the miniscule starters our hunger simply went away. Sitting al fresco may be idyllic and romantic but give me air conditioning instead. 

If you’ve ever frequented Danforth in the 1990s, you might have eaten at Myth. Flash forward to 2021 and the restaurant was revived with a beautiful facelift on King West by Matty Tsoumaris, the son of the family. The warm gold, wood, and cream tones made me feel I could be lying in a chaise lounger by an indoor pool. The restaurant is buzzy but in a calm way. At least, until the fire dancers performed, and the energy really picked up.

As a Toronto Life Insider member, I was there to check out Myth with a tasting menu ($125 before taxes and gratuities) offering several courses complete with wine pairings and an espresso martini. If I was feeling tired, that jolt of vodka and caffeine provided the start I needed to the meal. Ground pistachios are dusted onto the espresso martini ($20) for an interesting texture against the smooth foam, it’s different but I’m not sure if I prefer it. Note: regular menu prices are included in the post for informational purposes. Serving sizes will likely differ from what is pictured given the tasting menu format.

Beginning with an off-menu item, Matty explains it’s customary for Greek people to offer guests (even if they are strangers) something to eat when they enter a home as there’s a belief that Gods may be visiting the Earth… and you would never want to not feed a God! Our divine offering was a creamy compressed roe in a buttery tart shell. It tasted of the sea, hinting at the Mykonos inspired menu to come.

We then moved into the actual tasting menu, starting with a bite of soy-laced beef tartare served in a cone. I wasn’t expecting the amuse bouche to be sweet, but it gave the tartare a teriyaki feel that worked, especially when paired with the crispy cone that is reminiscent of eating ice cream.

Myth’s mezze platter ($35) consists of a collection of dishes, and I love that it showcases some lesser-known dips. Of course, there’s the popular hummus, which was thick and filling, but the mezze also featured a silky smooth taramasalata that has an umami saltiness to it from the cured roe. Warning to vegetarians, if I hadn’t been told there was fish in the dip, I would have never known. The roe adds a brininess to the dip without any fishiness.

If you enjoy feta, try the tirokafteri dip that uses the cheese as the base but has a hit of peppers that creates an unexpected spiciness. It goes great with the soft warm pita or smeared onto the crudite given it had such a flavourful salty kick.

While a bit cheesy (pun intended), the cheer of “opa!” before setting the ouzo on fire is what makes saganaki ($22) such a staple. The kefalograviera cheese was oh so gooey, salty, and lightened with just a hint of lemon. I just wished there was more than one piece of toasted bread to go with it.

It’s not everyday you find raw fish at a Greek restaurant. Myth uses slices of yellowtail hamachi in the magiatiko ($28) adorned with an olive tapenade that was too overpowering. If anything, the dollop of creamy taramasalata (the same fish roe dip featured in the mezze) was more than salty enough. Still, it was beautifully plated and a great light starter.

The arancini was good… less creamy than an Italian version, but also didn’t leave me feeling as full. It was smartly paired with a feta mousse, which added a touch of sauciness to the risotto but didn’t detract from the crunchy crust.

Surprisingly, I really enjoyed the beetroot carpaccio, so much so that I’d prefer it to the beef counterpart. The sweet thinly slice beets were enhanced with tangy yogurt and a yellow beet mousse. Because there were so many creamy ingredients, the roasted pecans worked nicely to add a contrasting texture. Sadly, the dish isn’t on their regular menu, which really should be included as it’s a hit.

Another off-menu item was the youvetsi, a bed of plump fragrant orzo topped with an extremely tender beef cheek. The meat could use more seasoning, but the pasta was delicious and well flavoured. If anything, the olive tapenade that was too harsh for the hamachi would go nicely on the beef here.

While the lavraki ($65) was cooked adequately, it didn’t look very appetizing. I’d recommend the chef keeping the skin on and crisping it up to give the fillet a more aesthetically pleasing structure and texture. As fish goes, it tasted fresh and the main was a nice lighter change after the beef cheek. I just found the lemon in the thyme oil heavy handed in the stewed wild horta, dandelion greens that tastes like spinach, so it was a bit harsh against the neutral fish.

In retrospect, the lemon thyme oil would have gone nicely with the roasted potatoes ($16) as these were dense and would have benefited from a bright element. Too bad the sides were served after all the mains so there wasn’t really anything to go with them. If you’re a fan of roasted Brussel sprouts, the broccolini ($23) is a side with the same feel - the crispy roasted greens topped with hot pepper sauce, lemon oil, and cheese.  

For the tasting menu, Myth chose to feature a rizogalo as dessert. While the rice pudding was decent, it was too dense, so it felt like you’d eating a clump of rice versus a creamy saucy pudding. It also needed to be sweeter to satisfy. As it stands, the dish is more brunch than dessert.

Despite being opened for over two years, Myth is still going through some growing pains. Even though service was friendly, the wine pairings and sides just weren’t keeping up with the food coming out. Maybe because it’s such a big restaurant, but the various stations weren’t communicating to make the meal a fulsome experience. Who knows, maybe with some time the restaurant will eventually become a feast for the Gods.