There’s been significant press for LSL (Leroy, Saito and Le Squer) so my post isn’t going to re-hash the pedigree of the restaurant with three Michelin chefs at it’s helm. If you’re interested in learning more about these aspects, read Toronto Life, which wrote a very in-depth article.

Even before stepping into the restaurant, I received a text from Matthieu, their maître d’, inquiring about celebrations or food aversions. It’s reminiscent of an Eleven Madison experience, except Matthieu’s message was punctuated with an emoticon so there was a polished but friendly-casual quality to the interaction.

The experience continued at the restaurant, each team member introducing themselves by name as they welcomed, took our jackets, and led us to our seats. The introductions and casual banter put us at east to strike up conversations… the once quiet dining room was soon buzzing by the end of the first course.

Their 9-course tasting menu ($680 per person) started with a trio of small bites that we’re told to eat from the front to back:

• Beginning with a ginger and citrus Campari foam that burst in the mouth. It’s not overpowering but did wake up the palette and cleanse it for the second.
• The hairy crab tart’s briny flavour screamed of ocean (in a good way) so the crustacean was highlighted in the bite. We go from sour to salty.
• Lastly, a sweet bite with a generous portion of foie gras sandwiched between crunchy coffee crisps and topped with passionfruit jelly. Imagine having a really decadent sweet-and-salty candy bar.

LSL doesn’t keep you waiting for their signature dish: a peeled Amela tomato stuffed with finely diced tuna and topped with Kristal caviar. It’s something Chef Didier Leroy created for a dinner with Yo-Yo Ma that made him cry. It looks deceptively simple and features expensive ingredients (an $8 tomato for one) that gets diners excited. Having tried the caviar by itself, the ingredient solo would have been very pungent but once combined with the fruit and fish became amazingly fresh and light.

That natural sweetness continues with the Hokkaido scallop crudo, a dish that sounds Japanese but has a unique European flair. The scallop was meaty and fresh, topped with top-shelf uni flown in from Japan. It makes for a lusciously creamy bite. Yet, what surprised me most were the crunchy bits of dehydrated scallop reduction that gave the dish crunch and an umami touch.

My favourite plate was the crispy scale amadai where the fish was flash fried, so the meat becomes flaky, and the scales create a crunchy topping. It arrived with a warm ball of brioche that was perfect for wiping up every drop of the delicious beurre blanc. Good to the last drop.

The duo of squab was a close second place, the breast cooked beautifully with its tender meat and crispy skin. Sitting on a layer of rich pâté and crispy toast, the fowl becomes a sweet and delicate contrast. I don’t know how I feel about the pâté, it felt like too much. I feel the squab would work better on its own or with something more neutral like fish liver mousse and crispy potato.

I’m glad they brought out moist napkins and welcomed us to eat the squab leg with our hands. The savoury crispy bite was a star, and if I were at home, I’d probably continue nibbling on the bone to get at all the flavours. And not a drop of the citrus red wine jus was wasted given it’s paired with a heavenly crispy baguette.

How did the chefs prepare the rack for the seared lamb? The lollipop was so big that it must have been carefully carved to ensure all the adjacent lamb stayed on one bone. Regardless, LSL knows how to prepare meat well, the lamb was tender, juicy, and perfectly seasoned. I liked that the chefs showed restraint with the salt and allowed the sauces to flavour - mustard, black garlic puree, and a jalapeno sauce. I thoroughly enjoyed the accompanying crunchy relish and had every bite of it.

Some of the refreshing relish would pair nicely with the goat cheese tarte. Other diners were raving about the pastry – all the melted cheese, a buttery tart shell, and the Périgord black truffle shavings didn’t hurt.  Indeed, it’s a rich finish (likely a stand-in for the cheese course), but I felt it lacked something. After all, it’s just cheese. Perhaps a larger portion of salad, a creamy element within the tarte, or maybe more accompaniments. Something more than just melted cheese.

A trilogy of grapefruit didn’t sound like the most interesting dessert but was a great finish… especially following the decadent tarte. Layers of citrusy sugar crisps sandwich grapefruit and other sorbets to create a refreshing, not overly sweet, but satisfying ending. LSL marinates the grapefruit to remove bitter elements, and you’re left with a great winter dessert providing a boost of vitamin C.

The mignardises arrive with glass of tea that’s tempered perfectly so it doesn’t scald but is still hot and flavourful. It’s paired with a just-out-of-the-oven madeleine that’s oh so airy. And after a delicious bite, when you’re disappointed it wasn’t larger, you get a second one – Halleluiah! The raspberry and chocolate tarte was crispy and well balanced, but it’s the last jammy kumquat bite that’s so surprising. A stream of sunshine floods the mouth that finishes savoury. Is summer around the corner?

We each left with a little box of treats: nutty almond cake bites and more madeleines. Great for a late-night snack, a sweet for breakfast, or a nibble to accompany an afternoon tea.

All the wine pairings ($360 per person) balanced out the food, never fighting to be the star but complimenting it well. At one point I was falling behind with four glasses in front of me but was assured not to rush. Saving a taste for the other dishes isn’t a bad idea as it’s always nice to contrast different flavours.

And if you have any questions about the food, Chef Didier Leroy is on hand the entire night taking time to chat one-on-one. He’s like a homeowner welcoming a guest to the table: building a rapport, while doing a huge push to explain why LSL is Michelin worthy. It’s as if there are Michelin inspectors sitting amongst the diners and we’re going to get the hard sell.

At times, it became awkward. It’s one thing to be proud of the team, the luxe ingredients being imported, or even highlight the special touches like always having Didier at the helm and the handwritten affirmations in the bathroom. But, once we get to comparing LSL to other Michelin starred restaurants and always referencing the rating agency, it becomes too much.

Personally, I have no doubt LSL will be presented a star, if not two, in 2025. I would just encourage the team to let it happen naturally and focus on what they’re already doing well: they’re such a welcoming restaurant that makes me want to return; and the food was inventive but approachable, respectful to the ingredients themselves. The star(s) will come, no campaigning required.

Visiting Halifax in July means a greater chance of good weather and lobster season. The time when these tasty crustaceans are at their prime and the reason Café Lunette offered a special Ooh La Lobster ($54) three-course menu.

But to start, an oyster ($3) to sample Nova Scotia’s array of seafood. It had a sweet finish, the restaurant using a lemon herb mignonette studded with chives, which wasn’t too pungent and just lightly flavoured the oyster.

It was a much better starter than the lobster bisque that had a bitter aftertaste. At first, I thought the bitterness stemmed from the Pernod, an anise liqueur, used in the soup but finally tracked it down to the crackers of all things. Once you scoop those out, the remaining soup was a bit salty but edible and incorporated a lot of lobster throughout.

The lobster spaghetti uses thicker strands of pasta and sauce, so everything sticks together well. The spaghetti had a great chewiness and while it doesn’t look like there’s a lot of lobster, the seafood was cut into small chunks and sprinkled throughout so each bite had a bit of lobster. It was a great main.

You can see the seafood in the truffled lobster and mushroom roll, but the truffle oil was too overpowering. I only had one bite and already my mouth was flooded with so much flavour that I can’t imagine having an entire sandwich. If you love decadence, you’ll want to try the lobster roll.

No lobster was used in the dessert but there was seaweed in the lemon posset. While it’s an interesting maritime addition, the seaweed does add an earthiness to the posset that’s an acquired taste. The consistency of the dessert was nice, almost like a panna cotta but thinner since it doesn’t incorporate gelatin.

The sea salt caramel crème brûlée was very rich and somehow both very sweet and salty. It’s a bit much on its own but when combined with the lemon posset the tanginess earthiness of that counteracts the flavours of the crème brûlée nicely so we ended up eating the desserts together.

Café Lunette’s cute atmosphere made us feel like we wanted to stay there and chat forever, the dining room is open and airy but there’s still a sense of privacy as ample space is given between tables. They are also so friendly – much like Halifax’s general populace – our waiter coming by to say goodbye as they were handing off shifts for the evening. We had a wonderful night and what a sad ending when we finally had to bid the café and its delicious lobsters au revoir. 

As I recount my latest experience at Alo, I grapple with the final mark: would I still consider them a 9 or a “top pick”? There were dishes that were incredible, but then some that missed the mark. The tasting menu ($225 per person) was off to a shaky start when the canapés arrived.

We’re instructed to eat the four bites in a particular order. The first, an oyster with compressed cantaloupe and Iberico ham oil had a fishy essence without an acidic element (like the traditional mignonette or lemon) to help cut through the strong taste. It also seemed off that it wasn’t ice cold for something that should be served uber fresh. The first bite was a bust.

Slowly, the redemption started with the beautifully presented uni tart, which was made even creamier with a thick crème fraiche on the bottom. While this wasn’t mind-blowing, it was at least not repulsive.

After the fishy oyster I had doubts about the mackerel tart, but this was unfounded as the meaty fish was very clean tasting and well balanced with bright pops of the daintiest tomatoes and fruit. Indeed, there was an ocean-like essence from the caviar, but it wasn’t overpowering.

The canapés ended with a foie gras and strawberry jelly tart that created a sweet and savoury element. This was surprisingly good and wonderfully rich.

It’s unclear if Alo is pandering to Michelin inspectors as the procession of Japanese dishes just seem out of place at a French restaurant. Sure, I can understand if they want to throw in one dish that’s has a Japanese influence, but to feature a handful was just too much.

Moreover, some dishes just can’t live up to what you’d be served during an omakase meal. Chef Patrick Kriss should drop the madai course, a sea bream paired with chili oil, caviar, and kumquat. Like the oyster, it was fishy and warm. Give me this fish cool with freshly grated wasabi and soy sauce any day.

The kinmedai was better, the red snapper was at least cold and refreshing with the oh so finely julienned radish in the centre. The various oils complimented the fish nicely and this was an improvement over the other sashimi course. If Alo must have a sashimi course (why would it), one is enough.

Having a soft spot for chawanmushi I wouldn’t be opposed to this remaining on the menu. The actual steamed egg was hot and silky, but then enhanced with lovely French and Western elements: smooth foie gras tofu cubes, fragrant truffle paste, crunchy radish, sweet corn, and crispy chicken skin. All this amongst a pool of reduced capon broth. What an incredible dish!

At this point, the meal started having an upward trajectory. The chanterelle mushrooms were so meaty and cooked to the point of perfection – no longer raw and spongy but not too wilted either. Paired with spinach, artichoke, and a luscious whipped egg sauce, it was so delicious that I wanted to lick the bowl.

The seared scallop and roasted mussel continued the ascent with its superb execution. The scallop was seared beautifully and super sweet and the mussel so tender ending with a lovely clean finish that it’s unlike any mussel I’ve ever had. Paired with a savoury foam and parsley sauce, these were the perfect seasoning not overshadowing the seafood’s natural flavours.

At the beginning, we were asked if we’d like to substitute the rice dish for foie gras (supplemental $40). Why anyone would want to miss out on the Koshihikari rice with Dungeness crab is beyond me. Koshihikari is a short grain rice that’s cultivated to be used in many dishes, including risotto so that it has that creaminess but also a more distinct grain that Arborio. The risotto was cheesy and savoury with bits of snap pea added to give it a crunchy pop of freshness that was so good that I longed for more. To elevate the dish, thin slices of wagyu beef topped the dish, so that as it melts the fat seeps into the rice. Do not replace this baby.

A boneless lamb chop follows seared to perfection and having a lovely charbroil taste. As you have a cube of the meat with the garnishes, each bite tastes so different – whether it’s the peel tomato, fried shallots, or patty pan squash. Somewhere down the line you sample the the olive stuffed with sausage, which is good but a bit heavy, so I’d recommend saving it for the last bite.

Alas, the meal bell curves with the last savoury dish being mediocre. The striploin was fine, slightly over cooked, but at least having a nice grilled essence. Yet, it’s the miso sauce that really threw me off and added a weird funk to the steak. Perhaps if we upgraded the dry aged angus to the Japanese A5 wagyu (supplemental $90) it would pair better, but as it stood the sauce was a bust. Moreover, the deep-fried eggplant tempura garnish was too seedy and bitter.

The only saving grace was the pain au lait that gets paired with the striploin. It’s just as fluffy and fragrant as I remembered. I absolutely love Alo’s bread, so much so that they even gave us an order to go, what a sweet and unexpected gesture.

Normally, sorbet palette cleansers can be really tart and pungent. Alo tones it down with their take on strawberries and cream where the layer of cream at the bottom helps balance out the frozen Italian wine with strawberries and the champagne foam.

Dessert progresses with a tasty meringue with peach mousse and vanilla cake. Garnished with a verbena lemon sauce the dessert is a nice balance of sweet and sour. After so many dishes, I’m glad it’s a lighter finish that still has a sweetness that satisfies.

It wouldn’t be a French meal without a box of petit fours, presented in a lovely tree box. I love that they made a mini lemon meringue to pay homage to Aloette downstairs but it’s not nearly as good as the sister restaurant as meringue is so small that the bite was fairly sour. The passion fruit caramel was too sticky and the chocolate caramel too sweet. It was the simple strawberry gelee that was just right, enhanced by the fruit’s natural flavours and a great consistency. I felt like Goldilocks going through the petit fours trying to find the perfect bite.

Save room for their canale as it’s a lovely combination of crispy caramelized shell and fluffy moist interior. Consequently, it also paired perfectly with a cappuccino ($6).

The roller coaster food aside, Alo does excel at service. There’s a lovely chill we-don’t-take-ourselves-too-seriously vibe with the 90s rap playing and the entire staff sporting New Balance kicks. Everyone we encountered was so friendly, professional, and knowledgeable that we knew we were in good hands.

Eating at a French-Canadian restaurant in Vancouver seemed like a waste of a meal. But after hearing about all of St. Lawrence Restaurant’s accolades - #5 on Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants list and being crowned best new restaurant in 2018 by multiple publications – it also seemed imperative I visit a place that delighted Canada’s west coast. I envisioned a glutinous meal that would make us feel sick like Au Pied de Couchon, but thankfully found a more restrained offering that was hearty yet didn’t leave me clutching my stomach.

St. Lawrence offers a rotating prix fixe menu that changes roughly monthly and during our June visit happened to be a 5^th Anniversary special ($85 for three courses) highlighting a mix of past favourites, traditional French offerings, and special dishes the chef wanted to whip up.

To start off, our table shared warm buckwheat rolls with a delicate pork spread, which was barely enough to smear onto the bread and left us wanting more. Our waitress warned us not to use the foie gras custard as a condiment since it is best eaten solo. Indeed, it’s like a decadent savoury and sweet panna cotta where the silky creamy custard is enhanced with crispy crumbs.

The height of the vol-au-vent puff pastry was astonishing, the hollow flaky pastry filled with pea sprouts that added a fresh element against the mushroom mornay sauce. Such a lovely quintessential French dish that forms the only vegetarian offering on their menu, not counting desserts.

We would have liked more chips for the bison tartar – it’s as if the had reached the bottom of the bag and threw on the final broken ones that were left – as the crunch goes so nicely with the delicate tartar. Nonetheless, the flavours were on point, enhancing but not overpowering the bison, and the creamy béarnaise sauce a great addition.

St. Lawrence smartly left the orange “jus” separated from the duck ballotine as to not cover the lovely duck flavours also pairing the fowl with a savoury citrus less sauce. The orange segments were ideal for cleansing the palette against the chunks of rich meat. If you’re in the mood for a substantial French main, this one will hit the spot.

I thoroughly enjoyed the trout à la dieppoise, which was an ideal dish to highlight French-Canadian fare using fresh B.C. ingredients like the fish and side stripe shrimp. The seafood was delicately poached with not a speck of skin or shell remaining, so that each bite was merely covered with the white wine cream sauce. On the bottom, the various greens soaked in the last of the sauce to create a decadent warm salad.

This being my first experience tasting tarte au sucre, the dessert reminded me of a firmer butter tart without the runny centre. The fluffy vanilla cream and crunchy shortbread covering the sugar tart added a beautiful touch without any more sweetness. Overall, it’s a delicious and surprisingly light dessert.

St. Lawrence’s rice pudding tasted like airy sweet cream, the fluffy pudding a great consistency but the rice too hard. If the grains were only cooked longer, it’d help create a creamier concoction to better contrast with the crunchy pecans and salted caramel.

Reservations are pre-paid through Tock, and spots are limited given the restaurant’s diminutive size. In fact, they even created a slim high-top for two in the waiting area to allow those who are waiting to mingle or host those who want to converse longer after their meal is finished.

The intimate environment creates a warm casual feel, despite St. Lawrence’s beautifully plated cuisine. I’m glad we could tuck into lovely French creations without the pomp and circumstance. So, leave your ties behind and just arrive comfortably with an empty belly. 

To my delight, Merlot captures these qualities. You’ll find the traditional French favourites on their menu like escargot and steak frites, as well as interesting dishes like the “St. Tropez” fish soup ($15.50). The broth has a bouillabaisse feel spiked with more saffron and thickened with pulverized fish - personally, I would have preferred if the fish was left in chunks, so it’d feel less like eating savoury baby food. 

The texture improved once I dropped in bite-sized pieces of the toasted baguette topped with creamy rouille (a garlicky lemon and saffron aioli) and grated Emmenthal to each spoonful. Think of it as a lighter French onion soup that swaps out the onion for fish.

If there’s duck confit ($32.50) on the menu, most likely it’s what I’ll order. Interestingly, the duck leg arrives with no sauce giving it a lovely rustic homemade quality. You can certainly taste the duck and without sauce the meat has nowhere to hide, it needs to be done perfectly to taste delicious. In this case, it was.

Yet, it was the caramelized sautéed garlic potatoes that stole the show. Cooked in duck fat until a sticky and crispy crust forms, the spuds made me swoon with delight. Never swap these potatoes for fries.

The meal ended perfectly with a shared slice of tarte aux pommes ($13.50). The thinly sliced apples sat on a bed of apple sauce and a perfect pastry crust. Likely the apple sauce helps to add moisture without relying on syrup, which keep the tart light. While there’s nothing wrong with the apple sauce, using crème anglaise or some sort of custard give it a richer element. And get rid of the fruit coulis, it makes the plate pretty but takes away from the lovely apple flavours.

When I saw the handwritten check, I knew we were in the right place. I truly hope traditional restaurants like Merlot continue to thrive as they have such a lovely charm.

As we get into the summer, I’ll be returning to enjoy their patio, which hopefully will transport me to a Parisian café.