I know this sounds counter intuitive, but when a restaurant is plastered all over social media it makes me want to try it less. Too much promotion leads me to think the hype is paid for and I start doubting the restaurant’s ability to attract diners for their flavours.

Dear Saigon’s most photographed item is the Dear Saigon pho ($22.99). The restaurant knows how to draw in the camera: a large tower displaying the dishes’ ingredients, a sizzling stone bowl, and a hulking beef bone that’s protrudes in its full glory. I had my doubts on ordering it, but then felt obligated to see if it really is worth the extra six dollars.

Firstly, the tower: they need to make it more structurally sound. To get the individual layers out, you’ll need to hold onto the wobbly light-as-air tower or otherwise risk having it topple over. Ultimately, it’s a bit kitschy with the only benefits being it takes up less table space and does allow diners to gradually add the raw beef slices to control its doneness.

In terms of the stone bowl, while it arrives rapidly boiling, this starts to lose steam in under 30 seconds. Add in the noodles and half of the bean sprouts and the soup sits as still as a pond on a non-windy day. In fact, I was nervous whether it’d still be hot enough to cook the beef slices, so I jammed them all in at the start. Luckily, the remaining warmth was enough to gradually cook them through, and the beef did stay tender longer, which was a nice touch.

Moreover, the broth stayed hot until the end. Dear Saigon’s soup was just salty enough and was hearty but still fresh. While the noodles started off as a sticky clump, they quickly loosened in the soup and resisted getting soggy. Point goes to the stone bowl.

Lastly, the beef bone. Perhaps the best distinguishing feature as it’s an ingredient not offered with the other pho. For me, this alone was worth the additional $6. Since it arrives in the soup without any sauce, I worried it’d be tasteless. For me, it was flavourful enough solo, but if you need tje extra oomph there’s hoisin and hot sauce available. Meaty and tender, I ended up sharing the beef bone and was still stuffed. If you’re hungry, order the Dear Saigon pho.

If the beef rib doesn’t do it for you, the house special pho ($18.99) was satisfying. While not overly exciting, it contains the requisite favourites – rare beef, brisket, tendon, tripe, and beef balls – with plenty of noodles, herbs, and bean sprouts. The broth wasn’t as beefy but still had a comforting quality. I sense some diners may find it bland, but I found it satisfying and liked that it wasn’t oily.

Dear Saigon’s appetizers were also decent. The chicken wings ($13.50) are covered in a honey glaze that’s best eaten hot while it’s still runny. Very crispy with just a touch of heat and savouriness, it reminds me of a milder honey garlic deep-fried wing.

Wash your hands as the deep-fried spring rolls ($8.99) are extremely difficult to pick-up with chopsticks – even my mom was stumped. Utensil challenge aside, they’re uber crispy, and I enjoyed the combination of vegetables, beans, taro, and little bits of shrimp.  

Despite holding off on trying Dear Saigon because I felt it was over hyped, I’m glad I eventually gave in. Their menu is extensive including a variety of appetizers and even Thai dishes for those not in the mood for pho. But who goes to Dear Saigon for pad Thai? Give me a bowl of noodles with a massive bone any day. 

Do you have a favourite neighbourhood restaurant? It’s that place you head out to for an impromptu meal, somewhere that offers a solid menu with reasonable prices, and you know you can likely score a table without waiting too long. The food may not be Michelin quality, but you’re usually not disappointed, and the menu’s varied enough that you’ll find something to eat. If I lived in the Yonge and Eglinton area, Wild Chicory could be one of those favourite local haunts.

Their menu is extensive, with several starters that would work well as “tapas” or even act as a main with a side dish, for nights when you don’t have a big appetite. The flavours of the Seoul chicken ($16) were decent – a combination of sweet, sour, and spicy – but could use more gochujang for heat and less rice vinegar as it was a tad tart for my taste. Crispy and juicy, these would have been even better if it arrived hotter.

My husband hypothesized that the chicken likely got cold as they were waiting on the rice nuggets in the crispy pork belly ($17). Indeed, they were searingly hot, very crunchy and addicting – the best part of the dish. Disappointingly, the pork belly wasn’t actually crispy. Perhaps it’s because the big chunks of meat are difficult to render and the dish would be better served as slices so there’s a larger surface area. More likely, there could just be too much hoisin sauce covering everything, which I did find overpowering and would have worked better smeared on the plate so diners can adjust the amount they want on the pork.

The problem with such strong-tasting starters is that the mains feel bland in comparison. A special that evening was the beef rib ($28) that was prepared to tender but not too soft. However, a thick piece of beef needs liberal seasoning to permeate into the meat. When I was having it au natural, it tasted plain. Luckily, the dish did come with a creamy sweet corn bisque and barbeque sauce, two things to dunk the beef into. What impressed me most were the sides, a light creamy potato salad that was bursting with flavours and a crispy and fresh coleslaw.

In the coast to coast ($38), only the scallops were seasoned perfectly, the bit of salt enhancing the beautifully crusted seafood that arrive just cooked through. The salmon was okay, not overly flavourful but at least had a lovely crispy skin. If it was done a touch less it’d be even better since the dish doesn’t come with a sauce and the fish tends to dry out quickly. Meanwhile, the leek and pea barley was too mild and so over powered by the lemon foam that it started having a bitter undertone. Perhaps, it could have been saved with salt.

Maybe I was lucky I didn’t finish the barley as it left me room to share Wild Chicory’s tiramisu ($12), it was delicious… the perfect balance of soaked lady fingers and mascarpone laced cream. Shaving chocolate on top was a nice touch, but I’d still add a touch of cocoa powder as its bitterness would better balance the dessert. Consequently, the tiramisu’s sweetness did go particularly well with an espresso martini ($17), which had a slight bitterness that diluted the sugariness.

Ah… an espresso martini, my go-to drink lately for elongating a meal to make it last a little longer. And time is what you have at Wild Chicory: you’re not being rushed to leave or warned about a two-hour seating limit. That’s how neighbourhood spots should be – walk-in, choose something new or order a favourite, and then just sit back and enjoy.