The stretch of Avenue Road close to the 401 has been put on the map with the opening of LSL Restaurant. Up until its opening, one of the ‘finer’ dining options in the neighbourhood has been the longstanding Francobollo.

Still, the restaurant doesn’t take itself too seriously. Amongst the modern homey dining room, they play lively music so you’re not afraid to laugh out loud (the second floor reserved for those who like it quiet). Their menu even drops a few puns like the tagliatelle ‘Bollo’gnese ($27). Get it, ‘Bollo’gnese and Franco’bollo’?

The sauce is heavy on the meat (a combination of beef and veal), which is proper since it’s a Bolognese and not ragu. One of my husband’s signature recipes, I’ve learnt a lot about Bolognese and have been spoiled by his perfected concoction. Francobollo’s was decent, but too heavy on the tomato. Ultimately, it’s a fresher rendition but was missing that richness that less tomato and a touch of cream helps create.

Finding burrata at an Italian restaurant is not surprising, but having one that’s fresh and served at an ideal temperature isn’t always the case. Francobollo’s burrata ($32) was the consistency I crave: creamy and soft but not oozing. Served with peaches and a tomato salad the summery starter was simply seasoned with olive oil, balsamic reduction, and basil. I would have liked crostini versus bread sticks but skipping carbs in the summer never hurt anyone.

Besides, we were having our fill of carbs with the pastas. And in retrospect, should have gotten the bread ($3) earlier as the salty oiliness of the soft chewy ciabatta would have paired well with the burrata. 

If you’re craving something rich, order the braised short ribs pappardelle ($32). I was expecting a traditional beef broth or tomato-based sauce, so the white sauce was a surprise. Yet, it’s not an alfredo. Instead, a combination of sweet corn, mustard, and truffle creating a sweet creaminess with an interesting finish. I wouldn’t have pinpointed the sauce to contain mustard or truffle, but then it’s two ingredients that’s rarely combined. While I enjoyed the chunks of shredded short rib and the texture of the pasta, the sweet thick sauce threw me off. Luckily, my husband enjoyed the pappardelle, so we switched our orders.

Meanwhile, I rather enjoyed the corn used in the Caesar salad ($20; half of the order in the picture). Left in kernel form, the corn’s sweetness was contained and what escaped in a bite helped enhance the garlicky dressing – just a bit of sweetness without being in every mouthful. Who knows, maybe a similar usage in the pappardelle would help mellow out the sugariness. Oh, and this was a sizeable salad, so I’d recommend sharing.

Francobollo’s pistachio cheesecake ($16?) can also easily satisfy two people. Rich and creamy, the earthy nuttiness of the pistachio was a lovely change from the overly sweet chocolate, caramel, or fruit.

In an area where restaurant menus get printed and rarely change, I appreciate that Francobollo creates daily specials and morphs their menus regularly to keep things interesting. It’s the fortitude that’s required as Michelin chef restaurants begin to enter the neighbourhood.

If you love tasting menus like I do, Twenty Victoria likely offers one of the most affordable ones in Toronto. Through a prepayment on Tock, the non-refundable six-course meal is set at $175 per person and is inclusive of gratuities (but before taxes) meaning the only thing that needs to be settled at the restaurant are drinks (beverage menu prices also includes gratuities).

That evening’s menu was casually paperclipped onto the drink menu and was rather cryptic, each dish described using two ingredients such as trout & egg. A quick scan of the December offering left me surprised by how seafood forward Twenty Victoria’s winter meal would be, a welcomed change in my books.

But first, a plate of “snacks” arrives, two one bite wonders including a delicate crispy salt cod croquette and a dollop of sturgeon caviar placed on goat cheese and radish. Both worked to wake up the senses and the radish a refreshing and stronger substitute for the traditional blini.  

The first dish, kanpachi and oca root, combines slices of raw fish with a root vegetable that’s described as “a cousin of the potato” and tastes like a starchier jicama. While it looks like sashimi, when the kanpachi is mixed with the crunchy diced oca root, olive oil, citrus, and basil seedlings, the dish tastes more ceviche. It was a vibrant starter that happened to coincide with tropical music being played in the dining room (a mere coincidence), the happy music putting us at ease that it wouldn’t be a stuffy meal.

What seemed like A LOT of sauce arrived with the trout and egg. Yet, the whipped hollandaise-like sauce carried a lightness that didn’t overpower the rich fish and even worked solo with pieces of fallen fish roe. Ultimately, throughout the menu, we found the balance of richness and lightness was what made Twenty Victoria excel – serving a decadent ingredient with something refreshing or at least restrained so that you can continue through the menu without feeling gross.

Pairing chopped walnuts with scallops wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it wasn’t terrible either. The slightly cooked through nuts added a bit of texture against the soft scallops, which were perfectly seared and served with a lovely creamy sauce. In this dish, the raw celery (?) leaves provided a bright element to counteract the buttery condiment.

With the scallops comes their bread course, a magnificent loaf that needs to be sold to go. Hot and crispy, the dark brown crust breaks away to reveal a milky airy centre. It’s their version of Japanese milk bread, which makes complete sense after the explanation as my husband found it resembled a lighter brioche while it tasted like a richer pain au lait for me. Regardless, I only wish I didn’t devour it all as the bread would also go well with the next dish. My advice for you, save a quarter.

Admittedly, I was disappointed to see the ‘lobster’ in the turnip and lobster dish rendered into a sauce, albeit a deliciously rich and silky bisque. It’s that richness that elevates the sweet slender turnip, an ingredient that hardly gets diners excited. Twenty Victoria’s turnip was a great consistency, neither too mushy nor too raw, and when slathered with the lobster sauce and topped with a black truffle does make the root vegetable more palatable.

The lamb was cooked to perfection, and I love that there was a sliver of fat and/or skin on one side that formed a crackling to compliment the tender meat. I wouldn’t have thought to pair lamb with maitake mushrooms and kelp, but both crunchier vegetables went nicely with the delicate tenderloin adding interesting textures in lieu of the traditional mashed or roasted vegetable side dishes.

Prior to dessert, we were asked if we’d be interested in a cheese course, something not listed on the menu. Of course, we obliged, and it was a great way to finish off the wine before diving into a digestif. Large ribbons of Niagara Gold arrived with crisp lavish bread and a slightly sweet quince. Having had this prized local cheese on other occasions, served as a traditional wedge, the ribbons completely changed the cheese’s taste allowing it to cover the tongue and almost melt away. Indeed, cheese please!

The pastry of the carrot pie was a wonderful thickness and consistency, holding its shape but breaking apart easily to mix into the carrot filling. I would have liked the pie to be sweeter, especially since it was paired with tangy unsweetened whipped buffalo cheese and a sea buckthorn syrup. I guess its neutrality helps balance the much sweeter lemon and ricotta cake, a warm moist cake sitting in a light syrup, so the dessert almost feels like a sticky toffee pudding, except with a hint of citrus and not quite as sugary.

Some diners were surprised that Twenty Victoria didn’t make it onto Toronto’s Michelin guide. With their amazing food, it’s certainly a strong contender. I sense that with a couple of small tweaks they could get there … assuming the added stress is something their chefs want, of course.

For example, expanding their tableware selection would help. When someone splurges on champagne ($35) and not a mere sparkling wine, ideally, it’d be served in a flute as opposed to a regular wine goblet.

If I were to get really picky, offering a wider fish knife or a shallow spoon with a dish like the trout and egg, would make it easier for patrons to spoon the sauce and fish roe onto the trout for a more fulsome bite. Yet, it comes back to whether Twenty Victoria even cares. Right now, dining there just seems so carefree, especially when trying to obtain a reservation. Star or no star, it was a shining meal for me. 

Canadian celebrity chef Matty Matheson’s larger-than-life attitude is infectious. While watching his cooking program, It’s Suppertime!, I can sense his love and respect for food and developed a belief that I could create his comforting spreads at home. Of course, like many viewers, laziness settled in and that’s when I decided to eat at his restaurant instead.

His latest venture is Prime Seafood Palace, a restaurant that’s unlike his other establishments such as Parts and Labour or Makers Pizza. Firstly, no expense was spared to create a beautiful Zen-like dining room that’s completely encapsulated in blond wood. I almost expected someone to roll out yoga mats if it weren’t for the vintage rock playing in the background. Both elements are bold and unexpected for a steak and seafood restaurant, sort of fitting for a chef who doesn’t blend in with the rest.

Thick pieces of blue fin tuna, kampachi, and king salmon are showcased in the Sicilian crudo ($45 for a small), cut to a sashimi-like thickness. There is no shortage of olive oil used in the crudo, the fish swimming in a plate of it. Yet, despite all the herbs, dish lacked flavour; if only they reduced the oil and added a sprinkle of salt instead.

Cheese and seafood aren’t a popular combination. Despite that, the delicate thinly sliced grilled Humboldt squid ($34) went remarkably well with creamy Stracciatella cheese. Maitake mushrooms, being a lighter fungus, didn’t detract from the squid and dairy’s natural flavours, the combination so tasty heaped onto a piece of well-toasted sourdough. Of all the starters, this was my favourite.

The Palace bacon ($18 for 3 pieces, extra $6 to add the fourth) was also delightful, a char sui flavoured pork belly that’s sticky and sweet. The fat was well-rendered, so the pork belly simply melted in my mouth. Delicious on its own (not overly salty), it could be equally tasty sandwiched in in a soft bao bun.

In hindsight, I should have put a piece of bacon into the molasses bread. For $21, the bread service was rather disappointing. Sure, the molasses bread was fragrant and unique - it was like having gingerbread in a bun form - but the accompaniments were lacklustre… the butter needed salt, the mustard pickles run-of-the-mill, and the kippered mussels weren’t the freshest tasting. If it weren’t for our waitress’ long story about how this was Matheson’s grandmother’s recipe and filled with East Coast charm, we would have skipped the bread service all together.

Perhaps I should have relied on my own instincts as I found her recommendations to be a let down. While the cote de boeuf ($275) was a beautiful cut of beef and cooked well, it was just so bland. Strangely, some Google reviews claim dishes are too salty, I wonder if the kitchen is overcompensating and has simply started under seasoning everything.

At least our waitress warned us that the cote de boeuf was neutral and suggested an order of sauce. The grilled onion chimichurri ($8) seemed like a logical choice but was too fussy - the mustard or wasabi added gave it a bitter after taste and detracted from the beef. Give me a simple chimichurri any day; or better yet, just some salt and pepper on the steak.

At least their sides were good. The Palace potatoes ($21) a potato gratin cut into cubes and deep-fried creating the most awesome hash brown. The carrot tart ($21) was also great and could even work as a starter. Layered on a crispy buttery crust was Grey Owl cheese (think a much creamier and richer goat cheese) and perfectly roasted carrots that were soft but still incorporate a bit of texture. If Prime Seafood Place ever opens for lunch, pairing the carrot tart with a salad would make a great lunch main.

The Yorkshire pudding ($13) comes as a solo pudding that’s the size of a bread plate. Oh, so fluffy and light, I wish we had some gravy to pour onto it as the cote de boeuf’s juices couldn’t do the pastry justice.

Prime Seafood Palace’s dessert menu is a short affair – chocolate cake, key lime pie, or ice cream. Having only tried key lime pie ($14) on a handful of occasions and never being impressed, Prime’s version was fantastic with a crispy buttery crust, creamy custardy key lime filling, and covered with meringue that’s toasted just prior to serving so there’s a warmth to the fluffy sweet topping. If key lime pie was always this good, I’d order it more often.

Our dinner at Prime Seafood Palace was satisfactory, but hardly the masterpiece that some people tout. We were treated to delicious sides and a couple tasty starters, but the lacklustre main was disappointing. If anything, the food was merely decent and what enhanced the experience was the beautiful dining room, attentive service, and personable sommelier. Maybe it’s just Matheson’s reputation, you can’t help but want to love the restaurant, because you like the person.

• Anything under 5 - I really disliked and will never go back
• 6 - decent restaurant but I likely won't return
• 7 - decent restaurant and I will likely return
• 8 - great restaurant that I'd be happy to recommend
• 9 - fantastic restaurant that I would love to visit regularly and highly recommend
• 10 - absolute perfection!

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