You better enjoy tortilla chips if you’re eating at Planta Cocina as half of their appetizers are served with the crunchy side. Practice makes perfection as the chips are great: thin, crispy, and not overly oily.

Plenty are found in the fully loaded nachos ($17.95) arriving in a tin and poured out table side. For something that’s described as “fully loaded”, the chips were rather bare - I couldn’t find much of the queso crema, avocado crème, black beans, or pico de gallo – let alone the pulled barbeque jackfruit that seemed more like sauce than a protein.

The five-layer dip ($11.95) was equally underwhelming, served in an angular bowl so the layers were non-existent. The kitchen tried to top it with additional ingredients such as chopped olives, which were a start but not nearly a substantial layer. Even a bit more refried pinto beans would have been nice, the spoon-sized amount at the bottom of the bowl was hardly enough.

Get the queso fundido ($16.25) instead as the piping hot cashew cheese dip is gooey, packed with spinach, and absolutely delicious. The Chile de Arbol salsa and cilantro gives the queso a slightly spicy and fresh element, to balance out the otherwise hearty starter. And if the dip isn’t flavourful enough, the side of spicy adobo sauce adds another level of rich spiciness.

For a vegan restaurant, I’m surprised with the lack of salad on the menu… the lettuce shortage must be real. There was the Cocina Caesar ($15.25) a bowl of well-dressed romaine adorned with smoky mushroom bacon and black beans. One small change would be to stick with a traditional vegan parmesan instead of the almond cotija, which I found too sticky on the already wet salad.

The special for the evening was a coctel verde ceviche ($14) made with cucumber and other greens. Strangely, it was just so sweet, making the dish taste more like a fruit salad than ceviche. Adding a splash of adobo sauce gave the dish some spice, but that tangy citrus element was still missing.

I liked where Planta was going with the vegetarian Baja mushroom taco ($6.25), but the slice of king mushroom must be thicker to replace a meaty protein like fish. Currently, it tastes like you’re eating a fried batter taco rather than mushroom. With so little fungi, the taco could have benefited from a slaw to fill out the shell; something to give the pico de gallo, cilantro, and sauces a bit more interest.

The quesabirria ($15.25 for two) combines cashew mozzarella with cremini and oyster mushrooms to create a soft gooey mixture that’s tasty but challenging to dip into the mushroom consommé. In this case, there was enough fungi, but I would have preferred if they were left in larger strips to make it easier to dip and add a meatier texture. The consommé could also benefit from more seasoning.

At least the service at Planta Cocina was impeccable. Carley, our server, was a bright ray of sunshine and had me wanting to try more of their cocktails (all $15.50). The easiest drinking was probably the Casa (pa)loma, which looks prettier than it tastes as we all found it too watery.

While the Mezcal Me Maybe sounds like a tropical drink made with passionfruit and lime, the combination of bitters and ginger liqueur gives it a smoky cigar like finish. If you like an Old Fashion, this is worth a try.

Of the three, I enjoyed the Classic Margarita the most, simply made with tequila, Cointreau and their house made sour blend. I must admit, their freshly made mixer does create a tastier and more refreshing margarita.

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. 

The temperature is rising in Toronto’s entertainment district as Marked enters with a South American menu focused on dishes created on the grill, essentially a host of barbeque and rotisserie style dishes.

There’s a spark of creativity with the corn ribs ($17) where Marked quarters corn cobs allowing the diner to hold a rib of corn and eat the kernels off like a bone. Thinking about it more, I guess it’s how you would normally a cob, in this case cut smaller so it becomes more manageable bites. Dusted with a chipotle lime salt, make sure you slather some of the whipped queso fresco on top, it gives it a lovely cheesy buttery taste.

Another dish that reminds me of ribs is the dates ($14), which are stuffed with pickled pepper and Manchego cheese, wrapped with smoked bacon, and then grilled. The bacon crisps around the edges and after biting through the smoky meat you’re greeted with a soft date that’s all at once sweet, salty, savoury, and spicy. It’s almost like popping a burnt end in your mouth.

The spicy tuna ceviche ($21) is made with big chunks of fish tossed with a spicy soy marinade, cubes of avocado, and refreshing julienned cucumber and radish. Given it’s a little salty, it is best eaten over the tapioca seaweed crackers, an interesting airy crispy chip that’s like a rice cracker but lighter.

We’re told what makes the guasacaca ($12) a Venezuelan avocado dip that’s different from guacamole is the use of vinegar rather than lime. The difference in taste is rather minor, perhaps a little less citrusy. Nonetheless, the guasacaca is just as creamy and goes nicely with the crispy tortillas. If anything, the extra tortillas are perfect for scooping up the leftover ceviche as there aren’t enough tapioca crackers for all the fish.

While it looks plain, the shrimp a la parilla ($29) has a spicy kick held in the huancaina, a Peruvian spicy cheese sauce, sitting on the bottom. The marinated shrimp is quickly grilled so that it remains plump and juicy, going nicely with the grilled pineapple separating each crustacean.  

The shrimp pairs well with the Brazilian coconut rice ($14), especially if you spoon some of the huancaina onto it for an extra pop of flavour. It’s a more al dente rice that’s studded with goji berries then topped with crispy coconut shavings and chives. I can also see this combining nicely with a grilled meat dish where the juices can permeate into the grains.

I’m generally cautious with ordering roasted Brussels sprouts ($14) as many turn out overcooked and saturated in sauce. Marked leaves half of the sprout unroasted with only the bottom thoroughly caramelized so there’s a nice balance to the vegetable. Topped with sofrito, thick coconut milk and garlic aioli, the recipe is a welcomed change from the bacon and balsamic vinegar combo.

Of all the dishes, the most normal is the fried chicken ($24), the main difference being served with a biquinho sauce (it’s like a less vinegary Buffalo sauce) along with a buttermilk ranch. This is the go-to dish for children or picky eaters who may want to stay away from “exotic” flavours, it’s like an elevated chicken finger that’s juicy and light.

Fairly full, we still ordered the Latin mess ($16) to end. It’s a great dessert for sharing and since it is made up of a lot of coconut whipped cream, it’s not overly heavy. Within the “mess” is coconut namelaka, sponge cake, passionfruit curd, and thin almond brittle pieces, everything surrounding a scoop of passionfruit sorbet. The couple of spoons was just what I needed to satisfy the sweet tooth.

On weekends, Marked offers a bottomless brunch with unlimited food items from a special menu ($100 a person) with the option to add unlimited Prosecco for an additional $20. It’s a promise of two hours of excess where you can eat and drink to your heart’s content. Of everything we tried at dinner, only the dates make an appearance on the brunch menu. Perhaps this is my cue to return and delve a little deeper into all the other dishes Marked offers.

How can you not feel cheerful entering El Pueblito Mexican Restaurant? The cozy dining room is swathed in lively colours galore and there are tons of knick knacks to see while waiting. Unfortunately, you’ll be waiting – to place your order, get drinks, get food, and pay. At least I’ve grown… when in cottage country, I learn to slow down and just enjoy the experience.

A few dishes feature their fish-of-the-day, which was pickerel for the ceviche and tacos during our summer visit. Marinated and cured in an acid of lime and tomatoes, the fish takes on a pink hue in the ceviche ($16) and has the taste of a lighter Arctic char. It’s wonderfully fresh, either by itself or scooped onto a crispy thin tortilla chip, the citrus acid nicely balanced with a hint of heat.

The starter just needed more salt. In fact, all their dishes need more seasoning. Perhaps El Pueblito is trying to respect an ingredient’s natural flavours or cater to Bracebridge’s older demographic, but everything needed an extra hit of salt to finish the dish – maybe they should just leave some at each table.

The same pickerel tasted completely different in the fish tacos ($20), once lightly grilled and topped with pineapple salsa. Since the fish isn’t deep fried and there’s not a typical slaw topping, the tacos are soft; I wish there was a crunchy element to provide textural interest – even some finely chopped bell peppers and red onion would be great.

Still, the tacos were tasty – the corn tortillas chewy and fresh, and the spicy mayo and tomatillo salsa great condiments for the dish. The refried beans were rich and smooth, lovely on its own or smooshed into the rice. The grains get even better once you add in consommé and chopped onions (from the birria tacos). In the end, the fish tacos are a little soft but at least they’re not messy to eat.

Consequently, the complete opposite experience of having a birria taco ($20). Stuffed with beef and deep fried, these arrive blistering hot and need to be wrapped in a tissue to dunk. Having seen many people have the dish at food trucks, it’s a wonder how anyone isn’t covered in consommé and grease without a proper table and dishware. If you’re ordering these, it’s best not to wear white.

The slowly cooked beef was plentiful and tender, but because under seasoned meat and consommé, we couldn’t help feel that the birrias were missing something. I was waiting for a flavourful explosion to erupt, only to be met with a slow-moving stream of lava. The flavours improved once we added tons of the raw onion, cilantro, and avocado into the crispy hot taco, a few sparks in the lava stream.

Saving room for churros ($10 for 6) is essential. When our server asked us whether we wanted six or ten of the pastries, I thought it must be a rehearsed question as why would two people need more than six? One bite into the hot hollow logs of fried dough and we were hooked. Dusted with cinnamon sugar they were already delicious, but a dunk into a creamy thick not-overly-sweet caramel and the dessert was absolutely sublime. Yeah, so maybe we could have devoured ten.

El Pueblito isn’t a large space, so you’ll likely be seated quicker if you’re a table of four or less. For such a small dining room, it’s perplexing on why it’s so difficult to get someone’s attention, especially when there’s no shortage of staff (we counted at least six people working that evening). Perhaps the outdoor patio really divides attention, or the servers need to help in the kitchen, but it’s best to order as much as possible at the beginning of the meal to avoid playing where’s Waldo.