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. 

We all know that COVID has hit restaurants badly. If you’re a newly opened restaurant or one beginning during the pandemic, it’s even worse. O&B’s latest addition, Babel, is unfortunately one of these restaurants that has been affected since operations only began in late 2019, when COVID was a mere whisper.

Their Mediterranean inspired menu relies on the 12-foot open concept hearth, where fires are ablaze and the force for cooking their dishes. It’s a shame, as from our patio vantage point, we couldn’t see it. Babel did try to make up for it by putting two blazing torches on the patio. They are beautiful, adding much needed light to the dark parking lot and an element of ambiance, but they’re more for décor as they don’t release much heat for warming.

Yet, their staff did everything they could to make us feel comfortable and welcomed. First, moving the table from the patio and onto the walkway beside the restaurant to give us more light and blocking some of the wind. The “heating lamp” was pushed as closely as possible; a second one later added until the other reservation for the night arrived. A fuel warmer, something you’d normally use under chafing dishes, was brought out to warm our hands. Pots of boiling water were substituted to the ice variety to warm us from the inside. They really tried to go above and beyond, which certainly helped as despite the frigid temperatures we stayed for two hours and didn’t want the evening to end.

With the dishes made with fire being marketed as a specialty to the restaurant, we had to try a couple. The smoked charred eggplant ($13) is a beautiful plate: the eggplant smeared into a thin layer and topped with pistachios, pomegranate, and edible flowers; drizzles of tahini and date molasses giving it tons of flavour with each bite. While more interesting than the typical dips, the delicate creamy eggplant does get covered with all the other ingredients, so if you really want the flavours of the vegetable, perhaps try the stuffed eggplant instead.

The beef tenderloin kebab ($30) arrives more done than we hoped – closer to medium well compared to the medium rareness described – but likely due to the hot metal cooking skewer being left in the kebab to help retain the heat longer. No harm done as being a tenderloin cut, the beef remained tender anyways. With the beef sitting on the pilaf, the rice becomes well seasoned with the juices soaking into the grains.

Both fire-cooked dishes were good, but so were the deep-fried falafels ($9), a green harissa mixed into the batter giving it lovely green hue and more flavour. Crispy outside and fluffy on the inside this is exactly what falafels should taste like.

They go nicely with the fattoush meets Caesar ($14), a salad that’s exactly as described: take charred romaine and drizzle it with a light Ceasar dressing and some of the ingredients typically found on the salad (parmigiano and filets of anchovies) and augment with other things found in fattoush – cucumbers, tomato, onions, and of course, crunchy pita bits. While it didn’t look overly exciting, it ended up being a decent salad.

We would have liked to see more chicken and less chickpeas in the shawarma ($17), a strange addition making the hand-held even messier to eat. After having shawarma in Dubai, I realize they are best kept simple: tons of chicken, a little bit of lettuce and pickles for crunch, and just enough garlic sauce and tahini for flavour but not to soak the bread. Babel’s probably looks better but is cumbersome to eat, especially when it’s served in a halved pita rather than in a chewy wrap. I’d also reduce the seasoning on the fries, as they were salty even for a person who likes things flavourful.

Truth be told, some of my favourite dishes of the night doesn’t even sound Mediterranean. The Babel wings ($17) was a perfect patio eat, the sole dish that arrived and stayed piping hot. We literally could see the steam being emitted from the wings as we bit into them. And the dry spice rub coating the skin was fantastic – slightly sweet but also bursting with other flavours like sumac enhanced with earthier tones.

The chef had to substitute tagliatelle in the spaghetti aglio e olio ($23), which was fine by me and perhaps worked even better to capture all the oil-based sauce. This was dish that gets cold quickly, but even warm was delicious, the pasta done nicely and just flavourful enough without being overly garlicky. The shrimp were also cooked perfectly and there was plenty of it with the pasta.

Can I have a knafeh ($10) to end? Of course! A thin layer of cheese sat on the bottom, enough to have the toasted crispy vermicelli stick to it with hazelnut and pistachio pieces sprinkled on top. There was just enough cinnamon syrup for sweetness but not to soak into the dessert. It’s one of the lighter renditions of the dish I’ve had. Normally, a small wedge of the dessert is all I can stomach; at Babel, I probably could have eaten it entirely.

Maybe it has something to do with eating outside in the cold, our bodies are burning so many calories just to keep us warm through the ordeal. At least that’s what I tell myself – dining in the cold will help work off all the fried food and carbs I just ingested (those who understand science and nutrition, don’t bother correcting me). Plus, the experience made me feel like a real Canadian. I may not ski, but I can eat in the cold.