I would skip the tom yum fried rice with vegetable and tofu ($18) as it's also very tangy and two sour dishes were too much for one meal. Indeed, tom yum's recipe has lemongrass and lime, but these tart elements soaked into the rice it was powerful. Still, I enjoyed all the herbs: galangal (a peppery ginger), basil, and kaffir lime leaves, which added a freshness to the starch. The fried rice was just too wet - Chiang Rai likely uses fresh rather than day old rice – to the point that it tasted better as leftovers.

If you’re a fan of chicken devil, the crispy chicken chilli sauce stir fry ($19) is a stellar version of the dish. I love the big nuggets of battered chicken that’s very lightly covered with the spicy, savoury, and sweet sauce so they remain crunchy. Just get to the chicken quickly as there’s not a lot of pieces amongst the vegetables.

Do not take out your food... Chiang Rai takes the time to beautifully present dishes. Each adorned with deep fried rice noodle sticks, beet ribbons, a stalk of green onion, and an orange slice. And while the décor makes for a great presentation, on subsequent visits I’ll ask for dishes plain as it's also wasteful to discard the garnishes. By dining in you'll also benefit from Chiang Rai's cheerful environment. It won’t necessarily feel like you’re in Thailand, but still funner than sitting around at home. 

Despite it’s British sounding name, Pinkerton's Snack Bar’s menu decidedly has an Asian influence. The kitchen and the bar seemed to have developed separately, as their drink menu leans towards classic cocktails like my favourite of the evening… the paloma ($16), adorned with a lovely pink peppercorn salt rim that adds a kick to the tequila, mezcal, and citrusy drink. Beautifully made but hardly seems like a drink that pairs with fried rice.

Still, I enjoyed it with a plate of duck fried rice ($18). It’s a good version of the dish, filled with flavours thanks to duck confit chunks mixed with micro chopped vegetables, egg, and hoisin that added a savoury richness. My only grumble is the rice was too fresh – every Asian knows that day old is best for frying – so the dish was too wet.

The crispy salt and pepper tofu ($13) arrived hot and crunchy and would have been delicious if it weren’t for the accompanying spicy tomato chutney. While I didn’t find it revolting, tofu and marinara isn’t really the greatest combination, especially when I was looking forward to the more traditional chopped bell pepper and onions relish version instead.

I enjoyed the soft buns used by Pinkerton’s for their bao buns ($15 for two), but they needed more filling. There was too much batter on the small pieces of Korean fried chicken, so the protein became dry and leaned towards a jerky consistency. The bulgogi sirloin was better, the beef more pronounced, and being marinated helps to keep things moist, especially when dressed with carrot slaw and spicy mayo.

Surprisingly there wasn’t a leaf of fermented cabbage in the kimchi fries ($12) - I then realized the menu description says it’s topped with kimchi mayo and pickled vegetables but not actual kimchi. The flavours came through in the mayo, but I found there were too many greens compared to the actual spuds, so the dish wasn’t hot enough.

Ultimately, Pinkerton is aptly named as a snack bar and not a restaurant. Their food will satisfy a boozy stomach but won’t wow the taste buds. Luckily, their cocktails do, such as the beautiful floral French 75 ($16). The cocktail’s lavender and jasmine elements weren’t too overwhelming, additives that can sometimes leave a drink tasting like dish detergent. Rather, it was refreshing, a lovely drink to sip on a hot day.

If Pinkerton were a person, I’d imagine them to be a nonchalant non-binary individual who has an effortless cool factor. Their origin is hard to pin down, not all qualities are great, but you can’t help but want to be invited out with them anyways. 

Gathering dishes from across the country, MIMI Chinese's menu showcases the different flavours and ingredients in China's Sichuan, Guangdong, Hunan, Shaanxi, and Canton provinces. Think of it as a crash course on figuring out what you like as you dig into the fiery chilies of Sichuan or the saucier multi-flavour dishes from Guangdong. The educational experience is held in a dark dining room on comfortable plush banquettes with dishes featuring traditional spices and preparations so you can expect to taste authentic interpretations.

The crossed arm dumplings in red oil ($26) may sound like a starter for grumpy old men, but is named after the way the  wonton wrappers are folded and the two tips meet. Having made many dumplings in my youth, this style is much quicker to prepare, compared to the pleated variety, and also allows more filling to be used.  

Indeed, each thumb length dumpling at MIMI was stuffed with plenty of the pork and scallion mixture, which could have used more seasonings such as Shaoxing wine, sesame oil, or soy sauce. Maybe it's due to the thicker wrappers or there not being much heat within the "red oil" condiment, but the dish was rather devoid of flavours despite the colourful look. The oil is described as roasted chicken oil, which leads me to believe they use the leftover oil from deep frying chickens to make this condiment, something that sounds great in theory. In reality, it doesn't add much additional flavour and really the oil could benefit from more chilies and something pungent like shallots. 

I can't recall that last time I had shrimp toast ($21 for four pieces; $5.50 for extras), but I must have been young as this dish has been removed from dim sum menus as customers become more health cautious. Pieces of soft white bread sandwich a mild shrimp paste and is deep fried and topped with a sesame crust. The crispy toast was bang on - the crunchy exterior and slight leak of oil is reminiscent of childhood memories. 

Since MIMI uses two pieces of bread (restaurants previously used an open-faced sandwich format), the carbs did drown out the shrimp taste. The toast could benefit from more filling or incorporating pieces of diced shrimp in order to give it a stronger seafood essence. 

The scallion and ginger sea bass ($59) uses white leek but lacks ginger making it a fairly neutral main. The soy sauce and scallion oil is poured table side instead of directly from wok to dish, which while nice for presentation purposes, means it lacks the "scalding" properties that crisps the skin a bit and causes the sauce to more deeply permeate the meat. All in all, it was a pretty plain tasting dish and is for those who really want to enjoy the fish's flavours - at least it was well cleaned and tasted fresh. 

For those who are afraid of bones, this dish is perfect as everything is pretty much removed (all I found was one really thin small piece). While the lack of bones makes it much easier to eat, it does mean the fish cools quicker, so be sure to tuck into it right after the sauce is poured.  

Presented at the table with a flourish was the four foot belt noodle ($26), stretched to showcase its length before being cut into more manageable two inch segments. While not a terrible dish, the noodle could be thinner as we found it a tad chewy and the sauce needed something else for interest. Although the noodle was covered with a fair amount of chili oil, a salty richer flavour like bean paste or a complex XO sauce would have been a great addition. 

I preferred the supreme fried rice ($28), filled with umami flavours thanks to the dried scallop, salted egg, and lap cheong sausage. These ingredients do make the rice a tad dry, which MIMI ties to combat by adding diced vegetables and scallions into the dish. Really, I think if there was just more rice to mix with all the other ingredients it would provided the needed moisture.

Their vegetable dishes are fairly plain (stir fried gai lan or cabbage), we decided to try the chilled pumpkin and snow melon ($10), which are ribbons of the squashes tossed with Shaoxing broth. For those who can't handle spice, this would help counteract the heat of other dishes. For us, we found it almost seemed out of place and dessert-like due to the sweet after taste.

Be sure to listen to their feature dishes, we ordered both and they were my favourite of the evening. 

The Cantonese chicken ($28) is your traditional fried chicken with shrimp chips. It was executed perfectly at MIMI: the skin delicate and crispy, the meat very juicy, and there wasn't an ounce of pink on the bone (something that can be found at Chinese restaurants and make some squeamish).

I loved how the kitchen took the razor clams ($26) and chopped it to pieces and mixed it with wine, garlic, vermicelli, and other herbs before steaming the crustacean. With each bite you get different flavours and textures, a lovely seafood special. 

Being Chinese, I'm probably more difficult to impress as I've had so many experiences in my lifetime that there's often a comparable or better version of a dish previously eaten. While some dishes were a little bland for my taste, how the ingredients were prepared and the dishes executed were fantastic. What is also great about MIMI is their approachability and friendly service, a quality that can sometimes be lacking at Chinese restaurants.   

I can already imagine the pundits' responses: there's nothing special about the dishes and you can find them cheaper elsewhere. There is truth to this statement, the dishes aren't "westernized" and presented in the traditional format, albeit with more attention to plating. And the menu prices are much higher than the casual family establishments and still more than the banquet style restaurants. However, applaud MIMI for keeping with traditions and to allow customers, who may be hesitant to visit a Chinese restaurant, to try dishes that are not the General Tao variety they might have otherwise. As for the prices, just be mindful about their Yorkville rent and the higher labour costs (there were a lot of servers, all of whom are fluent in English). 

MIMI likely won't be the place your mom, dad, or grandparents will be love, but it is where you bring your friends who want to expand their taste bud experience beyond the Cantonese-focused menus that are typical in Toronto. It's where they will be able to try items from a variety of regions and they won't need your help interpreting the menu or translating. All you need to do is sit back, relax, and eat. 

My husband’s officially another year older, and the occasion also marks our annual dinner from Choice of the Orient (COTO).

Sadly, his favourite dish, the Peking chicken ($13.95), was the worst of the meal. It’s an item  that doesn’t travel well, not because it becomes soggy – typically, it’s not crispy anyways, since it’s slathered in a thick sweet sauce – but rather because it’s made from lean chicken breast that’s cut into thick chunks, which after being sealed in a hot container for half an hour becomes SO overdone. My suggestion to COTO is consider cutting these thinner so that even overcooked they’re not quite as tough.

Not being a fan of things like lemon chicken, the orange beef ($13.50) had the same repulsive citrusy meat taste I detest. Nonetheless, I tried a piece and once the fruity flavour subsided, the spicy savoury sauce that was left behind was actually quite tasty.

Give me the beef with Chinese broccoli ($13.50) any day! Wok tossed with some oyster sauce, the dish doesn’t taste like it’s mixed with dish soap and there’s so much of the tender gai lan crammed into the container.

Unlike chow mein, the noodles in the mixed vegetables lo mein ($11.95) are left soft, which you would think is better for delivery. Except, it gets so soft that the dish has no texture at all. Thankfully, we had gotten an order of moo shu pork and the leftover filling went perfectly with the noodles, adding crunch and extra flavours that the lo mein was lacking.

COTO provides four large pancakes with their moo shu pork ($11.95) - you can really stuff these to the brim. Nonetheless, there was plenty of the wok hay laced filling leftover, a delicious addition to other dishes like the lo mein and fried rice.

Despite the chicken fried rice ($8.50) being such a rich hue, the soy taste was rather weak. On its own the dish is too bland, but considering it’s generally eaten in lieu of steamed rice, I can see why it’s left neutral so that it doesn’t become too salty once you add saucy dishes on top.

Choice of the Orient has been a mainstay in Richmond Hill since the late 1980s and the go-to place for my better half’s friends and family when they wanted Chinese food. While it’s not my top choice, I’ve got to give COTO credit, there’s not that many places that have garnered customer loyalty like them. And given the amount of business they had on a weeknight, they’re still going strong.

I’m skeptical about restaurants with an extensive menu of varied cuisine. With no focus, how well can chefs actually prepare dishes? Riz is one of these places. The menu encompasses cuisine from so many east Asian countries, that dishes are either decent or a complete flop. Other restauranteurs would likely trim the subpar items from their menu. At Riz they have a permanent home, so ordering is like playing a mild game of Russian roulette.

Having dined-in at the restaurant and ordered take-out a couple of times pre-COVID, something seemed off about the October delivery we had. Maybe we lost at the game of roulette, but the ratio of dishes that disappoint to appease was at an all time high. Could it be that one of the chefs, pivotal to making the dishes decent, was let go?

The Szechuan crispy beef ($19) was the sole dish that continues to impress and truly one of the better renditions I’ve tasted. Thin sticks of beef are just barely coated and deep fried to give the protein a delicate shell and cooked to the point the beef is chewy and not hard. Their sweet and salty sauce is much thinner than ones found elsewhere, still full of flavour but doesn’t saturate the beef to the point it’s too sticky and candy like. Indeed, it tastes even better at the restaurant, but for delivery was delicious.

If you’re in the mood for a “healthier” complete meal, the drunken garlic shrimp ($29) is not overly oily and arrives with a cup of nutty wild rice. Yet, it lacked that fragrant aroma and taste of Chinese rice wine you’d expect, and despite it looking like there was plenty of garlic and shallots sprinkled throughout the shrimp, these aromatic flavours weren’t prevalent either. If simple stir-fried shrimp is what you’re looking for, this isn’t bad. But, for being labelled a “signature dish” and called “drunken garlic” it really needs more oomph.

Like others, the crispy noodles are separated from the sauce for the vegetable and tofu chow mein ($18). While the sauce is a nice consistency and flavourful, there’s so much of it and not much else: several scant broccoli florets, sliced carrots, squares of cabbage leaves, and small tofu pieces - that’s about it. Missing were traditional Chinese ingredients like bok choy, bamboo shoots, baby corn ... things that would make this much heartier.

But truly anything is better than the chicken young chow fried rice ($19). Seriously, was this actually made by someone who had any cooking experience? If you took steamed rice and mixed in boiled chicken and vegetables, then sprinkled finely chopped scrambled egg over everything you’d get Riz’s fried rice. There was absolutely no flavour and no wok hay. I had to scoop crispy beef over it to add any flavour and ended up stir frying the ample leftovers with more eggs and other ingredients the following day to make it edible.

The wrapper on the shrimp dumpling or har gow ($9) was sticky and something leads me to believe these were frozen, but I understand… Riz isn’t known for dim sum and therefore likely not making these fresh daily. For a dinner delivery, they weren’t terrible.

Yet, what threw me off was the black square of who-knows-what stuck onto a dumpling as soon as I opened the package. How much time could it possibly take someone packing the dish to remove the debris? Is a dirty dumpling really the thing you want customers to see?

For everyone’s sake, I surely hope the delivery was just an off night. Because one thing that’s great about Riz’s expansive menu is their commitment to serving those with ingredient intolerances: not many Chinese restaurants offer a gluten-free menu safe for a celiac person and also have a number of vegetarian options that can be made vegan. Unfortunately, these customers will also never get to taste their crispy beef, the one thing we would ever re-order for. 

The rally cry to support local small businesses seemed to spring up immediately after the quarantine was announced. I’ve championed the cause, ordering from my favourites in North York that provide delivery services. With all the great establishments in the neighbourhood, we’ve generally supported restaurants that are close to home, but one night, the craving for Thai food was just too strong, and that’s how I stumbled across Thairoomgrande on Ubereats.

Their Thai shrimp rolls ($8) are a hefty size, stuffed with shredded vegetables and peppery glass noodles with whole shrimps on the ends. Despite waiting around at the restaurant and a long detour while Ubering, they remained surprisingly crispy and was the promise of good food to come.

For the most part, Thairoomgrande’s fried dishes deliver well. They smartly served the house made Thai sauce on the side so the Grands chicken wings ($11) also remained fairly crunchy. The plump wings were cooked to juicy perfection and well-seasoned so they could be eaten plain or dunked into the thinned sweet and spicy sauce.

Before biting into a dish with three chilies on the menu, make sure there’s a cold drink by your side… the restaurant does not shy away from spice! The chicken devil ($15) incorporated the typical dried red chilis stir-fried with the fowl, but the sweet and savoury sauce also gets a dose chili oil that soaks into the breaded chicken for a devilish bite. In this case, the sauce mixed with the coating isn’t the greatest choice as the breading becomes mushy when being delivered.

Their curry pad Thai ($15 with chicken) isn’t the typical plain noodles tossed with curry powder for colour. Thairoomgrande must use curry paste and powder as the rice noodles are well-coated making for flavourful bites. I wish we had ordered this dish in the same sitting as the vegetable green curry ($15) as the two should pair well together: the noodles were a little dry and needed more salt while the green curry was heavy on coconut milk and light on spice; yet, a drizzle of the green curry on the pad Thai could be a stellar combination.

For a restrained heat, the basil shrimp ($17) is a terrific choice. There’s chili oil used in the savoury sauce, but since the shrimp aren’t coated it isn’t overpowering – if anything the spiciest item in the dish is the broccoli. I’d would like more basil with the shrimp - you really need to look for the herb, there’s not enough of it that it completely permeates the dish.

Oh, but the item that impressed us the most (we ordered it again on another occasion) was the Grand seafood fried rice ($15). I haven’t been able to pinpoint what flavours the rice - my closest guess would be a cross between tom yum and something like shrimp paste.  Whatever the ingredients, the rice is spicy with elements of bright herbs and an umami finish. Absolutely delicious. Like most of their dishes, you can choose from a selection of proteins, but we’ve stuck with seafood as the shrimp, calamari rings, and imitation crab sticks goes so well with the rice.

I must admit, with all the disposable containers being used for delivery and takeout, I’ve been experiencing environmental anxiety lately – there’s so much plastic and waste! Thairoomgrande helps reduce the guilt a bit as most of their dishes arrive in biodegradable paper containers (only the saucier ones are served in dreaded black plastic). The containers are more costly, but with eateries solely doing take out and delivery, I’m glad restaurants like Thairoomgrande are trying to reduce the long-term effects of the “new normal”. Our Earth and future thanks you. 

Coming from a Cantonese Chinese background, my brunches were less about eggs benny and pancakes and more about steamed dumplings and pan-fried delights. Being able to have dim sum was something I took for granted, just a lunch we’d have as a family every other weekend. It wasn’t until the quarantine hit that I realized how much I would miss these small bites. So much so, that one Saturday, I placed a huge order at Dim Sum Queen and delivered care packages to family members.

A groan of delight must have escaped when I bit into my favourite dish, the siu mai (pork dumplings). They were a little wet from sitting in a steamy closed container, but once the condensation evaporated, they’re not that far off from what you’d get at a restaurant. Both the pork ($5.30 for 4 pieces) and chicken shitake ($5.30 for 4 pieces) versions are delicious, a nice meaty consistency but not overly dense.

The shrimp and snow pea leaves dumpling ($5.30 for 3 pieces) doesn’t travel as well since the wrappers get soft and sticky. Order the pan-fried shrimp and chive cakes ($5.30 for 3 pieces) instead, the thin wonton wrappers don’t mind a steam and the filling is just as good – plump pieces of shrimp studded with bits of leafy vegetables.

Of all the dishes, I would have thought the steamed sticky rice with meat in lotus leaf ($5.30 for 2 pieces) would be best for takeout - the wrapper helps keep in the heat and they are steamed for so long anyways that another 15 minutes wouldn’t make a huge difference. Alas, Dim Sum Queen’s has so much rice and so little filling that it’s a bland forgettable dish.

Their steamed BBQ pork rice rolls ($5.30 for 3 pieces) are thicker than what I’ve had at the restaurant, nonetheless, they’re a still decent and the restaurant smartly sends the soy sauce separately so it doesn’t get too soggy.

One of my favourite items from Dim Sum Queen is their sesame seed and lotus paste balls ($4.50 for 3 pieces) – when they are freshly fried these sweet spheres are A-MAZING! Understandably, takeout doesn’t do it justice (maybe if they were shipped in paper bags instead of Styrofoam it’d allow it to breath better), but still fairly decent and the just-sweet-enough lotus paste was as tasty as ever.

Despite the restaurant’s name, their non-dim sum items are good as well. While the sweet and sour pork ($14) and General Tao chicken ($14) look identical, the sauces do differ: the pork using the typical sweet and sour combination but ends with a gingery finish while the chicken savoury and sweet. They’d be even better if the batter weren’t quite as thick and the General Tao given a spicier finish.

Nonetheless, both went quite nicely with the yang chow fried rice ($12), a sizeable portion incorporating shrimp, large cubes of BBQ pork and enough scallions to add a freshness to the rice.

The mixed vegetable chow mein ($10) is also a great choice, they serve the sauce on the side so the noodles remain very crispy and crunchy. They also don’t skimp on the vegetables, the container held big chunks of broccoli, snow peas, cabbage, and carrots, amongst other greens.

Honestly, dim sum tastes SO much better when it’s fresh; not all dishes lend itself to delivery. So, since the restaurant offers dim sum all the time, if you want to miss their busy lunch rush, a dinner of noodles, rice, vegetables, and select dim sum may be the smarter choice.