At first glance, dining at Aburi Hana reminded me of Tokyo. The restaurant’s entrance is tucked amongst an alleyway on Yorkville and situated downstairs in the basement. It was Tokyo all over again – locating the establishment after arriving at the address.

Yet, after checking in with the hostess, it felt like arriving at a spa. We were five minutes early, so they sat us in a small lounge playing tranquil music with a floral scent permeating the air. When we finally sat down at the “chef’s counter”, the L shaped dining area allowed us to see the kitchen but felt removed from the action. It’s the only chef’s counter where the chef didn’t even acknowledge the diners – not as a whole and definitely not intimately.

And so, we settle in for the 8-course tasting menu ($300 per person) and 6-drink pairing ($150 per person) as different staff come and went to present items. Everyone was polite and friendly but also seemed to be regurgitating a well rehearsed script. It’s felt oddly formal even as I tried cracking jokes with them.

Oh well, I’m here for the food. The meal starts with the lobster usuimame a piece of barely cooked lobster wrapped around a delicate fish paste that’s well… fishy. A swig of water helps dissipate the bad taste in my mouth as does drinking the silky sweet pea infused dashi at the bottom of the bowl. I even admire the cute bird carved from an heirloom carrot before popping it into my mouth and enjoying the sweetness.

The meal improves as the otoro and caviar sushi monaka is presented. The crispy mochi wafer is filled with a layer of well vinegared sushi rice and topped with tuna belly, pickled daikon, creamy dollops of uni (?), and of hefty teaspoon of caviar. Each bite is deliciously fresh and flavourful.

It’s then a glass of hot sake is poured for the lamb yuba, a cube of four-hour braised lamb belly topped with silky layers of yuba mixed with Japanese mustard. It’s a dish that goes well with the theme of the “early spring” menu: a reminder that sometimes in the spring, a hit of winter comes back, and you’ll want something hearty.

I’ve never liked flowers, but the maguro flower is one I’d love to get. The rose petals, made from two type of lean tuna, sit on a bed of grated radish. The tender aged tuna goes wonderfully with the thickened daikon soy and scallion oil that surrounds the plate. I can see why this is considered a timeless dish, beautiful to look at and a treat to eat.

Every restaurant seems to be doing the flash fried scale-on amadai. Don’t get me wrong, I love the dish and am not complaining, but it’s such a fan favourite that it’s gracing everyone’s menu. Aburi Hana creates an amadai cauliflower, where the tilefish is charbroiled then flash fried. We’re told that if we want a spoon to enjoy the dashi and cauliflower sauce at the end to just ask. I got it right at the beginning and was glad that I could have a spoon of the savoury sauce with every taste of the fish.

My heart went a flutter seeing the kamo akamiso containing two of my favourite ingredients – roasted duck and maitake mushroom – on one plate. While the fowl is a touch chewy, it’s nonetheless flavourful from being smoked and the skin having lovely crispiness. You really need a strong protein to hold up against the deep rich miso sauce, that gives the dish a savoury taste that’s balanced off by a sweet burst from the honey pearls. My only complaint is the wine pairing, which tasted off and was much too light for the dish.

Aburi Hana ends with what they think is their WOW dish, the wagyu uni. Essentially, a roll of sushi rice topped with tons of uni, wagyu, and black truffle shavings, I can see it’s an expensive dish. But expensive ingredients don’t always make for a delicious dish. Firstly, the seared on “just one side” wagyu needed blowtorching before serving as cold fatty beef is not for me. When something is so fat, I find it best served hot so the blubber melts. After all, bacon is also fat and does anyone want to eat raw bacon?

We’re then told it’s been cut into two to help us eat the roll. If that’s the case, it’d be even better cut into four for more manageable bites. Ever try to shove a Twinkie sized item wrapped with chewy meat and wispy shavings in your mouth? It isn’t pretty or easy. Alas, the dish was a lot of flash, but no wow.

If anything, what I enjoyed most was the shot glass of condensed Kyoto miso soup included as the chaser. The thick umami broth was tasty and special.

How the chocolate Japanese ginger dessert came to be Aburi Hana’s most “timeless” dessert is beyond me. Ultimately, it’s a fluffy flourless chocolate cake topped with ginger crème anglaise and cubes of poached pear. I like to think it’s Chef Nakagawa’s way of leaning into showcasing local Canadian ingredients but then am told that the chocolate comes from Madagascar. It was a weird ending for a kaiseki meal.

I much preferred the yuzu macaron and caramel tuille petit fours that ended the dinner. Certainly, more French than Japanese, but at least better than something I could have ordered at Moxies.   

As much as I’ve pointed out the flaws of some dishes, there were also some incredible ones in the meal (I would love to eat the monaka and maguro flower again). And while there was little chef interaction at the “Chef’s counter”, Aburi Hana offers attentive service – my water glass was never more than two inches empty; chopsticks were replaced if there’s even a drop of sauce left; and they even replaced the toothpick dish for my Manhattan just because it wasn’t shiny enough.