156 Cumberland elicits a sense of mystery. Not in a murder mystery, speak easy, or blind tasting sense. Rather, you’re not quite sure what to expect. It starts with their name… merely repeating their central Yorkville address, good luck figuring out what this restaurant’s about.

Even their menu left me perplexed, a simple one liner printed at the bottom ‘Hanjan, dujan, sejan, floor’ – 156 Cumberland Team. Google translates this for me as ‘One drink, two drink, three drink, floor’. So, there’s a sense of cheekiness and a Korean inspiration to 156 Cumberland.

The beef tartare ($15) are flavourful bundles of joy – for your mouth that is. Sweet, savoury, and spicy elements combine with the minced beef before being stuffed into fried tofu skin. An egg yolk drizzle adds a thick creamy element while the chives a burst of freshness.

If the avocado mousse wasn’t so over salted the hiramasa ($25) would have been perfect. A generous portion of yellowtail incorporated a hint of heat from white kimchi gel and horseradish along with briny bits of oiji (a Korean pickle). While the avocado helps bind everything together, it was overly seasoned, so I ended up scraping most of it off to allow me to taste the fish. The little toasted seaweed chips were a great choice to scoop this up.

The intensely flavoured appetizers did leave the Korean bouillabaisse ($34) tasting flat. Perhaps it’s why the kitchen chose to serve the bouillabaisse with the white kimchi on the side. Ultimately, it lacked the saffron hit that makes the seafood sing. At least there was a decent number of clams, bay scallops, and haddock and the thin circles of rice cake were an interesting chewy texture against the seafood.  

The #AvecJayden’s white kimchi ($8) supports a fellow chef – the sous chef of Richmond Station who began perfecting his recipe during the pandemic and later starting an enterprise to sell it. Given it doesn’t rely heavily on spicy gochujang, Jayden’s version is light and fresh so didn’t detract from the seafood.

Give me an entire dish of sujebi ($37), the slices of silky Korean pasta swimming in a decadent buttery sauce. Chunks of duck leg, meaty maitake mushrooms, sweet corn, and fried sage made this the highlight of the meal.

There wasn’t an ounce of fruit in the banana milk tiramisu ($13), but I don’t mind. My best guess as to where the banana was incorporated may be the cake. Regardless, the dessert satisfied and aptly fit the menu’s description as being not too sweet.

The kitchen’s efficiency seemed to put a strain on the front-of-the-house. Even though service was friendly, they were so busy running food and drinks that switching plates became an after thought. A new plate would be ideal between the starters and the bouillabaisse, at least we managed to get one for the sujebi after waiting a bit.

Dinner also seemed rushed with little time between dishes. I didn’t feel like I could really settle in and relax without letting the mains go cold. Slow down 156 Cumberland and let the diners converse and drink. After all, how can we fulfill ‘Hanjan, dujan, sejan, floor’ if we’re out after two?

To my delight, Merlot captures these qualities. You’ll find the traditional French favourites on their menu like escargot and steak frites, as well as interesting dishes like the “St. Tropez” fish soup ($15.50). The broth has a bouillabaisse feel spiked with more saffron and thickened with pulverized fish - personally, I would have preferred if the fish was left in chunks, so it’d feel less like eating savoury baby food. 

The texture improved once I dropped in bite-sized pieces of the toasted baguette topped with creamy rouille (a garlicky lemon and saffron aioli) and grated Emmenthal to each spoonful. Think of it as a lighter French onion soup that swaps out the onion for fish.

If there’s duck confit ($32.50) on the menu, most likely it’s what I’ll order. Interestingly, the duck leg arrives with no sauce giving it a lovely rustic homemade quality. You can certainly taste the duck and without sauce the meat has nowhere to hide, it needs to be done perfectly to taste delicious. In this case, it was.

Yet, it was the caramelized sautéed garlic potatoes that stole the show. Cooked in duck fat until a sticky and crispy crust forms, the spuds made me swoon with delight. Never swap these potatoes for fries.

The meal ended perfectly with a shared slice of tarte aux pommes ($13.50). The thinly sliced apples sat on a bed of apple sauce and a perfect pastry crust. Likely the apple sauce helps to add moisture without relying on syrup, which keep the tart light. While there’s nothing wrong with the apple sauce, using crème anglaise or some sort of custard give it a richer element. And get rid of the fruit coulis, it makes the plate pretty but takes away from the lovely apple flavours.

When I saw the handwritten check, I knew we were in the right place. I truly hope traditional restaurants like Merlot continue to thrive as they have such a lovely charm.

As we get into the summer, I’ll be returning to enjoy their patio, which hopefully will transport me to a Parisian café. 

Dinner at Tapagria Spanish Tapas Restaurant happened on their patio, where they transformed the parking lot as much as possible by covering a section with AstroTurf, a tarp, and string lights. The simple tables weren’t fancy, but the ones found outside at restaurants in Barcelona aren’t either - try to block out the cars and imagine yourself surrounded by the historical architecture of Spain.

Perhaps think of it as being on La Rambla where it’s crowded, hectic, and there’s tons of kitschy things happening on the iconic street. And like a La Rambla restaurant, which is typically geared towards tourists, you’ll find an extensive menu of Spanish favourites at Tapagria: pintxos (small sandwich bites), tapas (different small dishes), larger sharing plates, and paella (a rice popular rice dish that is made to be shared).

While waiting the 45 minutes for a paella, it’s important to get a few small bites to tide the stomach over. The truffle paste and Manchego pintxos ($12) was a strongly flavoured bite with the truffle dominating against the delicate toast and the buttery cheese binding things together. It’s tasty but given its powerful flavour is best eaten last amongst the sandwiches.

Surprisingly, for something that’s cooked in fat the duck confit pintxos ($14) were a little dry. Tapagria puts a dollop of mango chutney on top - a nice pairing with the fowl – but there wasn’t much of the condiment, so it didn’t really hydrate or flavour much. Perhaps a drizzle along with a condensed red wine reduction would help to give this pintxo some pizazz.

I enjoyed the nice creamy texture of the jamon croquettas ($12) but found the varying pieces of ham mixed in them confusing – one bite included diced pieces, so it was almost like having a croquette with sweeter chorizo, while another had pulled pieces. Truthfully, I was expecting slivers of thinly sliced jamon to be ribboned amongst the silky potatoes. Nonetheless, the dish’s flavours were on point.

Still, the paella de Tapagria ($56) was the star of the show. It’s a creation that can’t be rushed as you want to let it sit until there’s a bit of a crust on the bottom. While it wasn’t covered with a lot of ingredients, there was enough shrimp, squid, clams, chorizo, and chicken to go with the shallow flavourful rice. Some reviews claim it’s too salty, but I found it be seasoned nicely and like the hint of chili that makes an appearance. 

The caramel flan ($12) was very thick, possibly from the Spanish recipe incorporating condensed milk compared to the whole milk that’s used in French crème caramel. It feels like you’re eating a cheesecake (without the cheese flavours) that’s covered in a thinned caramel sauce. While not necessarily terrible, I do prefer the delicate crème caramel consistency and will stick with the churros or Spanish toast next time.

The most important part of the meal is to just take your time with it … arguably this may be difficult with the one and a half hour seating limits, but during our dinner wasn’t actually enforced. It’s the conversation over sips of wine and bites of food that really creates the Spanish experience and that is well within your control.  

Something magical is happening at Auberge Du Pommier: Auberge avec Canoe, where the restaurants’ chefs are collaborating on special weekly menus that are still French, but with a lighter touch that’s perfect for the outdoor dining experience. Canoe’s affinity to Canadian ingredients is brought over and gives the dishes a refreshingly modern feel.

Having eaten at Auberge and Canoe on several occasions, the mash-up brings out the best in both restaurants. Possibly it’s due to a 4-month hiatus from a fancy meal, the copious amount of wine with dinner, or the fact the kitchen is dedicating all their attention to a mere dozen tables, but this was my best experience from the two establishments.

Their tasting menu ($80) begins with a loaf of pain au lait, the airy warm milk bread brimming with flavours – herbs baked into the bread and a delicate roasted shiitake & nori butter to spread over it. Any heaviness is offset by the pickled mushrooms with garlic scape served on the side. How did they get the scapes to taste so mellow?

In celebration of the land and sea, an oyster shell arrives with a bed on Haida Gwaii (in British Columbia) uni custard that’s silky and sweet. It goes nicely with the savoury chunks of seaweed-cured beef tartare mixed with smoked oyster that’s present in smell but disappears into the meat. As a contrasting crunch against the soft tartare, a mound of tart preserved white asparagus relish brings a lightness to the entire dish. Get a bit of everything in each bite as the combined flavours and textures is what makes the land and sea shine.

The three bites of foie gras parfait provided just enough decadence without leaving us feeling too full. The heavier mousse is balanced with the plum’s acid and edible florals, its silkiness enhanced by the bits of toasted torn brioche. This harmonious balance of indulgence vs. freshness, smooth vs. crunchy, and savoury vs. sweet is a common theme of the menu.

Perhaps the dish that was most Canoesque was the Ontario duck duo. The restaurant cooks meat beautifully and the lovely rendered duck breast was no exception, seasoned perfectly so that the fowl’s flavours weren’t masked with salt. A log of seared confit dark meat is the duo to the dish – so rich and flavourful that you’ll remember you’re indeed at a French restaurant.

If you’re not full already, the lovely fried panisse (a smooth carb that’s like polenta but milder) topped with miso cream and roasted cauliflower will leave you holding your stomach.

Auberge’s Ontario peach cobbler pays homage to the south with the typical biscuit substituted with a sweet corn bread. While the dessert could have been heavy, the lemon verbena custard gives it a bright finish along with the juicy peach slices throughout. By the end of dinner, it’s getting dark, so the caramel popcorn tucked around the cobbler provides an unexpected bite.

The final nibble is a cube of strawberry cheesecake that’s a great interpretation of the traditional dessert: creamy, buttery, and full of berry notes.

Just like another O&B experience, the COVID safety protocols are in full force: well-spaced tables, masks whenever you’re not eating, QR code menus, cutlery tightly wrapped in napkins, minimizing pouring of liquids in an effort to not contaminate food, and clearly marked walking ways so customers are not wandering around and remain socially distanced indoors.

Despite being reminded about the COVID conditions from all the procedures, Auberge’s terrace is serene and a wonderful retreat. The stone patio surrounded by trees wrapped in small lights transported us to another environment. And for a couple of hours, everything felt normal again.