If you’re in the mood for dim sum on a weekday, consider Zunyan Fine Dining & Banquet where any small, medium, or large dish is only $5 for the entire lunch period. Order before 11:00am on weekends and the price inches up to $5.25.

Their sui mai with fish roe (L) is solid with authentic flavours and the pork not overly pulverized. Just break into it before eating as they were not cooked through on one of my visits.

Oddly, the har gow is considered an XL and therefore not included in the special. But, if you’re a fan of shrimp dumplings, the shrimp and chive dumplings (L) is a close substitute. Moreover, the filling is heavy on the shrimp and skimps on the vegetable anyways. It’s a run-of-the-mill version of the dish with the wrapper slightly to thick and sticky.

It’s a similar story with the BBQ pork and egg rice roll (M), which has big chunks of barbeque pork, but lacks flavour. The rice roll wrapper isn’t consistently prepared: one visit it was too thick and another still thick but at least silkier.

If you prefer a thinner cheung fun, the fish paste with parsley and preserved egg rice roll (L) fits the bill and the filling a combination seldom found elsewhere.

Zunyan’s shrimp balls (L) remind of me of a crab claw without the crab. Hot, crispy, and juicy these are delicious! Just be aware that the crispy vermicelli noodles pieces coating it are not always used.

The shrimp balls are much better than the pan-fried shrimp with corn cake (L), which is really fish paste studded with shrimp pieces. Sadly, it also lacks corn… an ingredient that adds texture to an otherwise overly soft patty.

While there’s a fair amount of mushrooms in the tofu skin roll (M), there isn’t a lot of other vegetables and relies on vermicelli instead. At least they were well toasted to give it that crunch you need.

I prefer the steamed bean curd meat roll with oyster sauce (M) that encapsulates more filling. Big chunks of pork, shrimp, and vegetables are wrapped in the flavourful bean curd sheets. Having ordered this several times, the dish stays consistent and always satisfies.

The shrimp paste and squid with vermicelli (L) is rarely found at dim sum restaurants, even though it was a staple in the past. While the dish isn’t heavy on the shrimp paste, it’s flavourful enough and the vermicelli soaks in all the juices and almost melts into the other ingredients. Sadly, in recent months the squid seems to have been taken off the menu… hopefully, it’ll make a reappearance.  

For a filling dish, the preserved egg with minced pork congee (L) arrives as a huge bowl and has a decent amount of ingredients. While the congee base could be saltier, it is accompanied by green onions and crispy wonton bits for colour and crunch.

Zunyan’s wrapped chicken with egg yolk and cilantro sticky rice (L) are larger arriving two to an order. However, it’s mostly rice with a bit of salty duck egg and meat. Overall, nothing really stood out and it was too dense. Having it with the steamed shiitake and chicken (L) is ideal. At least the chicken is marinated longer and flavourful enough to cut through the big chunks of rice.

If you can get past the overly oily wrapper on the fried chicken dumpling (M), it is crispy and stuffed with chunks of chicken, diced mushrooms, and green onion. For me, I found this was too oil logged and heavy.

In terms of dessert, sharing the golden mango sago (M) is a perfect finish. The sago isn’t overly large and just sweet enough to satisfy. The real mango pieces are also a nice touch.

I find the mango sago more satisfying than the black sesame glutinous rice balls (L), which wasn’t sugary enough. Ultimately, it tastes more like a nutty sticky rice ball than dessert.

Zunyan’s dining room is spacious, but even so, I recommend arriving before 11:00am on weekdays to avoid waiting. Tables of two will need to be okay with dining beside others as the small tables are set very close. There’s no privacy with dim sum.        

There are times when I’m craving an eggs benny for brunch and on other occasions wanting bowls of congee and noodles instead. I’d like to think of congee restaurants as the greasy spoon diners from Hong Kong. Let’s face it, no one’s going to Keung’s Delight for the ambiance; it’s a bit dingy and dark despite the dining room’s high ceilings and cheery exterior. They are sort of like an English pub that serves a solid breakfast, without the smell of stale beer.

Aesthetics aside, Keung’s food is decent and well priced. The fish and preserved egg congee ($7.95) was an unique combination containing an ample portion of fish filet and chunks of preserved egg. The congee (a savoury rice porridge) was thick and flavourful arriving piping hot with a sprinkling of green onion for freshness.

The Singapore vermicelli ($12.95) was also well prepared - the thin noodles well tosses so every inch covered with the curry and salt seasoning. The shrimp and barbeque pork were left in larger chunks, so the ingredients were less dispersed amongst the noodles, pick and choose as you fill your bowl to make sure you get a taste of everything.

Keung’s beef and vegetable fried rice noodles ($12.95) contained plenty of sauce dousing the noodles in a rich gravy. There was also sufficient beef but could use more gai lan (Chinese broccoli) to add colour and crispiness to balance off the rich dish.

While their service isn’t overly warm, Keung’s staff is least efficient with the food runner speed walking each dish to the table, so it arrives hot and fresh from the kitchen. Also like a diner, you’ll be in and out in no time, although the restaurant isn’t overly busy, so you’re welcomed to sit and enjoy another cup of weak tea. Or you can indulge in a bressert (breakfast dessert) with a glass of grassy jelly or red bean ice drink.

Who knows, maybe after reading this brief post, you’ll be inspired to skip the bacon and eggs and have congee and noodles instead. 

Tucked in the Japanese Cultural Centre, walking into Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto transports you to another country. Given their limited seating, their doors may be locked, so give the posted number a call and in no time, someone will greet you at the entrance and lead you through the orange torii gates into the dining room.

There’s so much to take in that the first ten minutes is like sensory overload. Take a deep breath and get ready for the meal; Hashimoto only serves three tables an evening, there’s plenty of time to explore after dinner. So, settle into your private dining room and decompress for the meal to come.   

Hashimoto describes kaiseki as “much of an art form as a style of food preparation” and this is certainly accurate. Each dish was beautiful and like a gift waiting to be unwrapped; a sense of excitement settled over me as I lifted the dome from many of the courses.

The eight-course meal ($350 per person) began with an onjyaku-zen (amuse bouche) consisting of three hearty soups designed to warm-up the stomach. Hashimoto’s saikyo miso soup wasn’t overly salty but rather rich in umami made with white miso, topped with a braised carrot, and a pea-sized amount of mustard to add an expected spice against the broth. Meanwhile, the nutty flavour that burst through the cube of goma (sesame) tofu was incredible, almost bordering bitter if it weren’t balanced out by the thick savoury soup. If anything, I could have done without wasabi on the tofu as the sesame taste was already so pungent.

Of all three bowls, my favourite was also the simplest and what Hashimoto calls “seasoned rice”. It’s like a thick congee studded with cubes of sweet soft squash and topped with slivers of salty dried kelp (?). The bowl was lovely and comforting and had us wanting another taste of it to end the meal.

Paper thin slices of tennen madai (line caught sea bream) was featured in the sashimi course, so delicate that it’s like eating flower petals made of fish. Around the plate were three agar jellies flavoured with ginger, carrot, and seaweed, as well as a washer-sized daikon filled with thinly julienned pickled vegetables. It’s a much lighter dish following the onjyaku-zen and really showcases the knife skills of Chef Masaki Hashimoto.

Diners are asked to refrain from wearing strong scents to ensure they’re able to enjoy the sensory experience of the food. The yuzu aroma that escapes from the owan-mono was so refreshing, although at first whiff, it leaves me wondering if a citrusy soup is something I’d enjoy.

Hashimoto didn’t disappoint, balancing the yuzu in a savoury consommé and pairing it with a host of rich flavours: a silky chawanmushi (egg custard), a thick chewy rice cake, and a soft braised daikon. The slice of amadai (tile fish) was cooked perfectly and I loved that the fish’s scales were deep fried to form a crunchy garnish on top.

The yaki-mono (grilled course) featured a host of ingredients that were in-season during the autumn in Japan. Generally, I only have persimmons raw, yet somehow the fruit tastes so good baked, releasing more of its sweet flavours with chewy pieces of mochi included to soak up some of its juices. The fruit was so inventive that the grilled shima-aji (stripe jack) almost seemed secondary; I found the fish a tad overcooked and in need of a stronger glaze to make it stand out.

To finish the yaki-mono a host of seasonal produce were used as palette cleansers including crisp lotus root, a gooseberry topped with egg yolk (surprisingly, it works), mountain yam, and a lovely mountain peach that’s almost tastes like a cross between a plum and strawberry.

The Spice Girl’s song, When Two Becomes One, is what comes to mind when I think of the taki-awase course. The dish begins with ingredients being stewed separately – in this case, cubes of octopus, vegetables, squash, and daikon – and are then steam together to blend the flavours and aromas without causing the ingredients to become overcooked. After simmering for four hours, the octopus was so tender that if our server didn’t tell us what the protein was, I would have thought we were eating brisket.

Following the softer steamed dish was the shii-zakana (signature course), which provided a textural contrast with different crispy elements:

• Medallions of the most incredible chicken teriyaki encapsulating a soft walnut and wrapped in a thin crispy skin. I could munch on rounds of these in lieu of chicken wings.
• A ball of flavourful mashed Japanese potatoes filled with wagyu beef cubes and rolled into crispy rice grains creating something that rivals arancini with its crunchy and soft elements. Of course, in this case, instead of the traditional ground beef and peas, it’s filled with rich wagyu. Oh boy.
• Even the garnish of popped wheat was edible; a bit fibrous when I took a bite of the entire stalk, but once we started picking out the individual grains from the husk, became almost like a nutty popcorn.

Guilt washed over me as I took my first bite of Chef Hashimoto’s hand carved radish crane… it must have taken so much time to carve its delicate neck and legs! It was the last thing consumed so that I could appreciate its beauty before finally dipping it into the carrot sauce and devouring the refreshing décor.

The last savoury course brought a bowl of sticky rice topped with slices of A5 Hyogo wagyu, the prized beef from the Kobe region. While it was delicious, I do wish the beef was left thicker and cut into cubes so that more of the fatty rich flavours would be locked in and flow onto the tongue.

A bowl of noodles and soup is always a delight. In this case, a cha (tea) soba served in a fragrant dashi broth that was good to the last drop. What a lovely way to end and cleanse the palette before dessert.

Like many Japanese desserts, the mizu-mono was a fruit plate prominently featuring the expensive Shizuoka musk melon. A sizeable melon is upwards of $200 a fruit and commands the premium as supposedly they are raised to only have one melon per plant to ensure all the flavours are concentrated into one fruit and there being less of a chance of the melon having blemishes.

Indeed, every time I’ve had a slice it’s the sweetest melon ever and tastes like a cross between cantaloupe and honeydew. What also makes it different is the texture: when you have a normal melon it tends to be very soft and sweet in the centre, then gets hard and flavourless as you approach the find. The musk melon tends to have a more uniform sweetness and tenderness throughout.

It’s strange when I’m excited to try fruit, at Hashimoto they also provided a white strawberry encapsulated in a light jelly and topped with condensed milk. Truthfully, it just tasted like a lighter Ontario strawberry that you can purchase at a farmer’s market when it’s in season… I don’t think I would pay the ~$40 for a pint. It was my first experience having a shine muscat, which was like a sweeter and juicier globe grape without seeds. Set in gelatin and adorned with a gold leaf it’s crazy to think that a bunch of these grapes can be upwards of $100.

Aside from the fruit, we were treated to a leaf of uber-rich matcha pudding and a dollop of sweet azuki beans topped with a crispy candy. My recommendation is that Chef Hashimoto switches out the rock sugar with pop rocks to really give the diners a surprise.

With an extensive sake menu, if you’re not familiar with the Japanese spirit, they have a “sommelier” to help you choose one based on your preferences for other alcohol. Letting her know that we like a dry crisp wine, she recommended the Okunomatsu Junmai Ginjo Genshu Arabashiri that was offered in a half bottle on weekends ($55), which does have a less sweet finish.

For those who are abstaining from alcohol, they also offer pots of fragrant tea ($9 a person) or water served from a kimono clad Swell bottle ($7 a person).

Incredible surroundings and beautiful unique dishes aside, what makes dining at Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto an unforgettable experience is their service. With only three tables nightly, we were in good hands – just like in Japan, the hospitality rises to another level.

It evens ends warmly with our server offering to take a picture of us, which they email to us later that evening along with pictures of the dishes sampled. It’s a simple and sweet gesture that sets the restaurant apart, from the moment you enter and after you return home, dining at Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto is a true sensory experience.