If you enjoy bold flavours, Azura’s tasting menu ($128 per person) will have your tastebuds in a tizzy. And since the restaurant serves a blind tasting menu, your taste buds won’t know what’s to come as they’re introduced to spices, herbs, and sauces galore.

Focused on foods from the Mediterranean, the canapés begin with a Moroccan flair. The beet tart was beautiful to behold but also surprisingly bitter for a dish made with sweet root vegetables. The beets did little to stave off the bitter bite from the rhubarb harissa paste and small white flowers. The geraniums also made the tart much too floral tasting. As beautiful as it was, it was a disappointing start.

The avgotaraho moved the menu in the right direction, a crispy piece of panisse topped with labneh and red mullet roe. It’s creamy, salty, tangy, and messy to eat. I’d recommend making the panisse based thinner and wider so it becomes more of a two-bite canapé and would also allow the panisse to taste less dense.

Progressively things became tastier, the cigar looking concoction revealing a smoked cannoli stuffed with albacore tuna. It’s a delicious burst of smokiness balanced with acidity and a host of spices.

To end the canapés, a shrimp mousse piped into choux pastry, which had a sweet and savoury element. I loved the bright ingredients of pickled rhubarb and preserved citrus that helped lighten the umami-laced cream, Chef Adam should consider using this mousse in the beet tart.

Despite the scallop being overpowered by the date and pomegranate vinegarette, it was nonetheless prepared beautifully, so clean and luscious. Covered in creamy avocado and topped with salty fried okra and chili slices, it’s a starter that offers so many flavours and textures.

We’re told the halibut is inspired by one of Chef Adam’s favourite late-night snacks - the shawarma. While the fish could be cooked a touch less, it’s meatiness really held up with all the spices, tahini, and the cauliflower and couscous (?) medley. Who would have thought that fish would make for a great shawarma?

The celeriac was seared until it developed a lovely, caramelized crust emitting a slight smokiness. At once creamy a slightly crunchy, the root vegetable paired nicely with the earthiness of the blue foot mushrooms and refreshing watercress puree. This was one of my top three dishes of the evening.

Yet, the best dish of the meal, the one that had me swooning for more was the Iberico secreto. It’s described as a cut from the neck to arm pit area of the prized Spanish pig that’s known for it’s marbling. Having had Iberico in ham and sausage formats on numerous occasions, why has it taken me so long to have it seared?

Absolutely incredible, the crispy skin and fat makes the protein almost seem duck like but without any gaminess and even juicier. It’s a dish that’s only found on the full tasting menu (not the condensed version) and with the constantly changing offerings, a treat when the ingredient can be sourced.

Chef Adam should consider reordering the menu if a guest adds on the wagyu course (supplemental $55). After the incredible Iberico the beef was boring. My slice was also chewy given it was overcooked and had a muscle fibre running through it. If anything, the wild French asparagus and andouille stuffed morels delighted me more than the beef.

As we near the end of the savoury courses, an entire feast arrives with the venison leg tagine.  The protein was served with dishes of preserved lemon, smoked cucumber and eggplant hummus, olives, pita, and smoked sweet potato. We’re told to divide the pita into four and have the venison with each of the accompaniments individually.

My advice: create small bite sized “tacos” and have the meat with everything all at once. Otherwise, it just tastes too plain. I found the venison too lean and would have liked something that had a bit of fat or gelatinous cartilage incorporated into it – perhaps chunks of brisket or mutton? And I’d just skip the streusel sweet potato all together.

While I enjoyed the asparagus, it’s procession in the menu seems out of place. The vegetable was augmented with bold sides: porcini paste, kefalograviera cheese (like Parmesan but lighter), and something very peppery. If anything, the vegetable would have been nicer before all the meat dishes (it’s pepperiness highlighting the flavours to come) and the sweeter and lighter celeriac creating a better flow into desserts.

With tasting menus, I often find the desserts to be decent at best but not overly memorable. The fig newton could be considered one of those dishes – tasty but safe. A lemon poppyseed cake that sandwiches fig jam, there’s a really comforting quality to the dessert and is perfect for those who like a dessert that’s not overly sweet.

Yet, the last mortadella blew me away and was my second favourite dish. Firstly, it had me fooled – I was so sure it was a piece of meat on the bread. In reality, it is ruby chocolate studded with pistachio and shaved serrano ham. Moreover, there’s some sort of powder that looks like cheese but is so wispy light and creamy. Sweet, creamy, nutty, savoury, and tangy elements all combine to make for an incredible last dish. Give me more desserts like this any day.  

In fact, I should just have ended it on a high and not had the last bite of “Ferrero Rocher”. Hard and dense, there’s no crispy or creamy elements that you’d expect with the famed dessert. Azura needs to make these smaller or better yet, end with something more Mediterranean like a square of baklava instead.

In earlier posts on Gastro World, I’ve been complaining that Toronto’s tasting menus are morphing to become too Euro Japanese. At Azura you won’t find a lick of this – thank God! In fact, it’s one of the most unique tasting menus I’ve had in a while. A theme that continues into the wine offerings from little known regions. Combined with their friendly down-to-earth service and I’m smitten with Azura. I can’t wait to go back, but that Iberico secreto better make an appearance. 

Time seems to fly by while dining at Casa Paco. It’s not that dining there is particularly action packed or their service is slow, if anything the restaurant exudes a calm vibe and their service is a well timed pace. Somehow, amongst the dim lighting and homey décor, hours just pass by without the constant pressure to vacate the table within a two-hour seating limit.

When I see jamon iberico on the menu, it gets ordered. The thin slices of prized Spanish cured ham are all at once sweet, smoky, and savoury. Casa Paco points out that they serve the “pata negra” ($38) variety of the ham, which indicates it’s produced with pure-bred Iberian pigs. Pedigree aside, it’s tasty and the plate contains plenty of slices to go around.

The duck ragû gnocchi ($26) showed promise with its sizeable portion – a lot heftier than my friend’s tendril of octopus – and intoxicating aroma. And while the sauce was hearty and delicious (the shredded duck tender and flavourful), the actual gnocchi was overcooked and bordered on mushy. Perhaps its because the pasta was boiled and then also cooked in the sauce. If so, the chef either needs to boil the gnocchi less or consider pan frying it to form a crust, prior to finishing it within the ragû.

A dessert is a must, and the coffee cardamom cheesecake ($15) is highly recommended. Prepared crustless, the outer edges of the sweet takes on a Basque cheesecake quality so it’s caramelized and dense. Yet, at the centre there’s a lovely coffee cardamom sauce that gives it a lovely hit of cool sweetness that’s almost like a cold molten lava cake. A unique dessert indeed.

I preferred the cheesecake to the brûléed lemon flan ($11) where the sugar was overly toasted and started emitting a bitter taste. The sugar slight slip aside, the dollop of cool cream against the slightly warm flan was a nice touch.  

It wasn’t until after the dinner that I came across a Toronto Life article about Casa Paco. What makes it particularly unique is their four owners - Rob Bragagnolo, Caroline Chinery, Tommy Conrad, Ailbhe McMahon – are also the restaurant’s only staff, giving the establishment a mom and pop feel as customers will continually encounter the same faces.

Maybe that’s why we found dining there so relaxing. We felt taken care of and loved hearing McMahon mention that several of the flora scattered throughout the restaurant was saved from a local resident who had too many at their home and forced by their landlord to dispose of them. If only I lived in Little Italy, I too would become a familiar face amongst Casa Paco. 

Enigma’s 8-course tasting menu is priced smartly: at $230, it’s not an eat-here-every-week affair, yet it isn’t so costly as to become seemingly prohibitive unless phrases like my yacht also escapes your lips (Sushi Masaki Saito, this is directed to you). It’s a place to visit if you are celebrating an occasion or to really unwind, which is where I found myself a couple of days before Christmas. Another year of work was in the rearview mirror and the holidays were about to begin – why not get it started with a bang?

I wanted to give my brain a rest… no more decisions, just feed my body with provisions and provide a few hours of blissful conversation to melt away the stress. It seemed to start in that vein as a warm shot of Enigma’s immune booster was presented at the table. Yet, before we could cheers to good health, a host of decisions had to be made: did we want a juice ($75), cocktail ($130) or wine pairing to go with the meal? Did the occasion need some extra indulgence because we could get a spoon of sturgeon caviar ($80) added into the lobster chawanmushi or have an extra alba truffle dish? Please… just let the table have the lovely warm ginger citrus shot before inundating us with pesky decisions.

Luckily, once the pairing and supplementary questions were out of the way, we didn’t need to decide on anything else, other than what steak knife to use – more on that later. Instead, we were treated to two delicious snacks: a wonderful corn tartlet made from an impossibly thin crispy shell holding a buttery sweet corn espuma studded with popped kernels and other crunchy nutty bits that made me moan; and a chicken skin sandwich piped with a lovely miso-butter mousse. Yum!

What looks like a salad comes next, baked leaves of black cabbage, kale and spinach piled around squash and a smoked foie gras centre. Each bite is rich and oily… much too oily for my taste.

The lovely beetroot tuna cannoli were more up my alley, the sheets of ruby beetroot sandwiching chunks of tuna in a horseradish cream. Or the following kombu poached potato where chunks of soft humble potato were augmented with creamy uni and lovely crispy potato frizzles that made me want to lick the dish.

Of course, the chunks of delicately barely poached through lobster are delicious, but that silky egg of the chawanmushi was the star, each bite filled with so much flavour that made me wonder if this was going to be the peak of the meal.

This was paired with a crispy lobster kromeski, a crispy croquette that was tasty, but nothing compared to the egg, and a seaweed salad that could really benefit from being cut into more manageable bites.

In a gimmicky manner, a box of knives is brought to the table, and we’re asked to select one for the meat courses to come. It’s a strange interlude, perhaps meant to create excitement or a sense of participation. While it wasn’t a distraction I minded, it also didn’t really add much to the meal either and is likely annoying for the two staff members who needs to occupy themselves with the task.

Quite frankly, the following BBQ Iberico pork was so melt-in-your-mouth that I could have cut the coin of loin with a butter knife. It was a sing from the heavens type of dish that makes me appreciate the prized Iberico pig. The white peach salad, XO sauce, and dollops of apple gelee all did an excellent job at complimenting the pork.

Executive Chef Quinton Bennett comes out for the last savoury dish and explains that he uses PEI beef as he loves that the cows are finished with potatoes to give the meat an extra richness. The steak didn’t disappoint, and the accompanying king oyster mushrooms were fantastic dusted with bone marrow and the pickled onion petals such a lovely contrast against the meaty plate. Now that’s a way to finish.

Dessert begins with a plate of fallen leaves made from various juices. It’s a beautiful start, our spoons brimming with crispy textures and sweet flavours that made me wistful that the meal was nearing the end.

A trio of petit four are presented with a lovely wafer cake, citrus gelee, and a really large indulgent chocolate truffle.

All this is to warm us up for the fruit tree, which Chef Quinton cheekily tells us to get our cameras ready to “Instagram the hell out of the dish”. It’s certainly the most photographed dish of the menu, the gleaming red apples just calling out to the picked and eaten. 

Like the first bite of the meal, you’re greeted with a fluffy heavenly cream that’s wrapped around a slightly savoury dill laced salad centre that really works. A fantastic last bite that takes Enigma FOUR days to prepare. Boy did I feel guilty for not taking a few more photos.

To end, tables are given a goody bag for breakfast. My only complaint, and the reason why Enigma did not score a 9 out of 10, is that these takeaway bags are made per couple. If you’re dining with friends (like in our case) and do not live with your dining companion, it makes for an awkward end to the meal.

Enigma, if you’re going to give something away, just make it so that each person gets something to go. Or keep it simple and have everyone leave with just the menu. Either way, the meal was great, why have someone leave on a strange note?