Shakespeare’s famous saying proclaims, “If music be the food of love, play on.”  It aptly reminds me of Bar Poet, a restaurant that blends top 40 tunes from past and present, an eclectic comfort food menu, and arcade games. And by the end, the 2-hour seating limit flies by and all we want to do stay longer.

The arancini ($15) was seriously good. Made with mushroom risotto, there’s an earthiness to the creamy rice ball that’s stronger than the cheese only versions. But add in sambal cream and chili oil and that hit of heat goes so well with the comforting starter.

Somehow, we ordered a lot of dishes incorporating chili. The NYC spicy rigatoni ($18.95), an item so highly recommended in Google reviews, was surprisingly plain: pasta tossed in a spicy rosé cream with a fine dusting of Parmigiano. While it was tasty, a few spoonsful were sufficient, I can’t imagine having an entire dish to myself.

Even the Dovercourt and Queen ‘sweet’ calamari ($19) had a zing. The menu describes the sauce as being tomato based (pomodoro aioli) but tasted like the spicy rigatoni. Regardless, it’s a flavourful dish as goat cheese, chives and pickled peppers mingles with the squid. Even though the ingredients do detract from the calamari’s crispiness.

Bar Poet is known for their pizzas (all $22). If you like pepperoni, you’ll love the Hot Rod, a pie covered with tiny pepperoni with hot honey creating a sweet, salty, and spicy bite. For me, it was a bit greasy and heavy, but likely wouldn’t bother a pepperoni aficionado.

I preferred Rob’s Favourite Pizza, which sounded like a hodgepodge of ingredients, but they work together so nicely. A white pizza made with alfredo bacon sauce, it combines pulled chicken, brie, kale, spinach, caramelized onion, hot honey, chili flakes, and Parmigiano. Despite all the spicy elements, the pizza was the least spicy of the dishes we ordered, likely the chili and hot honey calmed by the creamy ingredients. Rob knows how to create an interesting meaty pie.

The pizza crust stays dry on the bottom despite an ample number of toppings. While it doesn’t have the requisite crispiness I enjoy, there was a lovely chewy consistency and sour dough finish that makes it tasty even without dipping sauce. Additionally, I love the inclusiveness of Bar Poet’s pizza menu with pies available gluten-free as well as vegan.

Everyone raves about the tiramisu ($9). While it wasn’t terrible, it also wasn’t great. It incorporated too much cream (didn’t incorporate enough mascarpone) and not enough of the espresso ladyfingers. While the Skor bits adds a unique element, left in chunks it was too crunchy and would be better in powdered form.

We were intrigued by the peanut butter espresso martini ($19), which emits a faint aroma of peanut butter but none of the taste. A decent rendition of the drink, it’s really sugary given it’s mostly made with Tia Maria and no vodka. Ultimately, one is enough, and I was glad that I switched to their other cocktails like the white negroni ($19).

Amongst the foliage ceiling and twinkling lights, Bar Poet creates a unique environment. Somehow, amongst the blasting music and Skee ball machines, there’s a romantic aspect to makes you want to eat, drink, and play on.   

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?

While Osteria Giulia has been awarded a Michelin star, it’s unlikely they’ll receive a service award anytime soon. Having arrived five minutes early, they weren’t ready to seat tables and we were asked to leave – no option to wait inside or at the bar, what a pain during a windy cold fall evening. Nonetheless, once we were seated, our waitress was warm and welcoming, making up for the poor first impression from the hostess.

Luckily, the food didn’t disappoint. The burrata e caviale ($45), although served a bit cold for my taste, was soft and fluffy, the centre creamy but doesn’t ooze out upon being cut through. The simple starter was a cacophony of flavours mixing briny Italian caviar, sweet Asfodelo honey, and a smoky sourness from the Blackbird bread. That splash of sweetness from the honey was unexpected but absolutely made the dish.

Pull apart the calamari ripieni con tonno ($36) before taking a bite and you’ll find the delicate seafood stuffed with yellowfin tuna paste so there’s a meatiness to each bite. It’s topped with a puntarella and charred pepper salad, giving the calamari a refreshing crispy bite. I’m glad it wasn’t overloaded with too many sauces so that the natural seafood flavours were present.

In retrospect, the lorighittas al mare ($38) was too similar to the calamari. In fact, when the dish was presented, all I could see was a plate of squid rings, only to find many were circles of hand braided pasta. Our waitress explains what makes the dish special is the time intensive nature of creating the pasta, which did have a lovely bite to it. Everything is tossed in a tasty olive oil sauce with a hint of garlic, chilli, and an umami essence from anchovy. I just wish the dish had more of the bay scallops and even some spot prawns thrown in to make it taste more like a seafood pasta.

I’m generally hesitant to order ravioli as it’s usually a scant dish and when they are not adequately filled it can taste like you’re eating pieces of dough. Osteria Giulia’s ravioli doppi ($44) smartly has one side unsealed so they can be overstuffed with silky ricotta and sauce, so you get a gush of filling with each bite. Chunks of lobster and kernels of sweet corn add richness and texture to the dish. It was an impressive dish and the most memorable of the evening.

If you’re visiting the restaurant and expecting to be full after an appetizer and pasta, you’ll be disappointed. Following true Italian traditions, the pasta is just the second course, you’ll need to order a main. We shared the rack of lamb for two ($85) and were presented with eight perfect medium rare lamb chops that were lightly dusted with sea salt. While this would be even better if it was served with a sauce, to give it interest, the meat was prepared beautifully.

The fagioli ($16) went particularly well with the lamb, the crispy beans well coated with a salty spicy meat sauce that added a punch of flavour against the otherwise neutral lamb.

With a selection of delicious sounding desserts, I opted for the millefoglie al cocco ($19), which was beautiful to take in with the thin layers of crispy pastry separating dollops of white chocolate and mango cream. It’s a dessert that could have benefited from being served with a knife, as it was difficult to break through the puff pastry.

Every table needs to order the tiramisu alla Giulia ($19), a rendition of tiramisu that brings it to another level with the ice cream centre and huge dollop of mascarpone and rum zabaglione on top. It was so rich and delicious… how can I have tiramisu any other way?

Osteria Giulia gets mixed reviews online and I can see why: what you order and how much you order can really affect the experience. While it’s a great Michelin option for those who have a smaller appetite or want the flexibility of controlling a budget for the evening, the restaurant should consider making a tasting menu to ensure tables get to really experience all their “best of” dishes – the ravioli, burrata, and tiramisu.  

The restaurant is certainly one of the more inventive Italian restaurants I’ve visited in Toronto and offers some impressive dishes. Still, there’s something about the experience that’s lacking compared to other Michelin restaurants in the city such as the absence of well-rounded service, not serving fully presented mains, and employing annoying nickel-and-diming practices like charging $3 a person for water. Unlike their ravioli, it’s not one experience I’ll be gushing about. 

Do you have a favourite neighbourhood restaurant? It’s that place you head out to for an impromptu meal, somewhere that offers a solid menu with reasonable prices, and you know you can likely score a table without waiting too long. The food may not be Michelin quality, but you’re usually not disappointed, and the menu’s varied enough that you’ll find something to eat. If I lived in the Yonge and Eglinton area, Wild Chicory could be one of those favourite local haunts.

Their menu is extensive, with several starters that would work well as “tapas” or even act as a main with a side dish, for nights when you don’t have a big appetite. The flavours of the Seoul chicken ($16) were decent – a combination of sweet, sour, and spicy – but could use more gochujang for heat and less rice vinegar as it was a tad tart for my taste. Crispy and juicy, these would have been even better if it arrived hotter.

My husband hypothesized that the chicken likely got cold as they were waiting on the rice nuggets in the crispy pork belly ($17). Indeed, they were searingly hot, very crunchy and addicting – the best part of the dish. Disappointingly, the pork belly wasn’t actually crispy. Perhaps it’s because the big chunks of meat are difficult to render and the dish would be better served as slices so there’s a larger surface area. More likely, there could just be too much hoisin sauce covering everything, which I did find overpowering and would have worked better smeared on the plate so diners can adjust the amount they want on the pork.

The problem with such strong-tasting starters is that the mains feel bland in comparison. A special that evening was the beef rib ($28) that was prepared to tender but not too soft. However, a thick piece of beef needs liberal seasoning to permeate into the meat. When I was having it au natural, it tasted plain. Luckily, the dish did come with a creamy sweet corn bisque and barbeque sauce, two things to dunk the beef into. What impressed me most were the sides, a light creamy potato salad that was bursting with flavours and a crispy and fresh coleslaw.

In the coast to coast ($38), only the scallops were seasoned perfectly, the bit of salt enhancing the beautifully crusted seafood that arrive just cooked through. The salmon was okay, not overly flavourful but at least had a lovely crispy skin. If it was done a touch less it’d be even better since the dish doesn’t come with a sauce and the fish tends to dry out quickly. Meanwhile, the leek and pea barley was too mild and so over powered by the lemon foam that it started having a bitter undertone. Perhaps, it could have been saved with salt.

Maybe I was lucky I didn’t finish the barley as it left me room to share Wild Chicory’s tiramisu ($12), it was delicious… the perfect balance of soaked lady fingers and mascarpone laced cream. Shaving chocolate on top was a nice touch, but I’d still add a touch of cocoa powder as its bitterness would better balance the dessert. Consequently, the tiramisu’s sweetness did go particularly well with an espresso martini ($17), which had a slight bitterness that diluted the sugariness.

Ah… an espresso martini, my go-to drink lately for elongating a meal to make it last a little longer. And time is what you have at Wild Chicory: you’re not being rushed to leave or warned about a two-hour seating limit. That’s how neighbourhood spots should be – walk-in, choose something new or order a favourite, and then just sit back and enjoy.

If you’re able to withstand a bit of uncertainty, having lunch at Famiglia Baldassarre will be a reward for your resilience and patience. Over two hours (12-2pm) on Wednesday to Friday, Famiglia dishes out pasta fresh from their line, passing over plates of hot steaming carbs that causes its recipient’s eyes to light up.

Famiglia doesn’t take reservations so get there early if you want to eat at one of their five indoor tables or ten (approximately) patio areas (warning, one person will need to sit on a hay bale). The process is simple: wait, order at the counter, sit at the table they point you to (do not try to sneak out of line to secure a spot), help yourself to cutlery and bread, have a seat, and then wait for your name to be called as dishes are ready.

With a choice of two pastas (each with a white and red sauce option), three sides, and two desserts, you’ll want to go with a buddy to share and try a few things. On our visit, they were offering a tagliatelle ($16) and ricotta & spinach ravioli ($16), which we ordered with ragu and al bianco, respectively.

Before the main event arrived, we tucked into a ball of freshly made fior di latte ($9.50) and thinly shaved 16-month crudo di Parma ($7), which were the perfect compliments to their soft crusty bread. The house made mozzarella was simply adorned with a sprinkling of salt, so the cheese’s creaminess came out in flavour and texture. Meanwhile, the Parma ham had a delicate salty sweetness to it that was great on its own or on the bread.

With two chefs manning three portable induction cooktops, the pastas were churned out at a quick pace. First up, the ravioli where the pasta was so silky since they were literally being made-to-order. In hindsight, we should have gotten these with sugo rosso sauce as the ricotta filling was neutral and needed more seasoning. The butter and cheese sauce, while allowing the spinach flavours to come out, seemed too plain. However, it did make for a tasty bite once I added on a piece of mozzarella and prosciutto.

The tagliatelle was divine and was made to marry the ragu. Who doesn’t like a forkful of smooth chewy pasta coated with a fresh tomato meat sauce? We loved it so much that a second helping was ordered along with a third to go by my friend.

If you order the tiramisu ($5), they’ll write your name on the cup and keep in in the fridge so that when you’re ready for it, the dessert remains cool. I’m glad they actually use mascarpone in the creamy base – and plenty of it given the richness of the custard. Yet, I could have had more of the espresso-soaked cake as it’s the combination of slightly bitter and sweet along with the moist lady finger with cream that I like.

Behind all the scaffolding on Bay, you’ll find Za Cafe Pizzeria and Bar. It’s a bit of a dark horse, the former Gaberdine’s white walls washed with black, although the worn bar seating remains. The place doesn’t scream warm trattoria or even minimalistic pizza joint, it’s more of an emo Italian restaurant that happens to play energetic dance beats. A great place for after work drinks but would be a shame if you left before having a bite.

Because although Za doesn’t feel like a trattoria, their food is nonetheless comforting Italian fare. The beef carpaccio ($17) lays out large slices of raw beef tenderloin that’s liberally seasoned with salt, lemon juice, and very little oil. While it doesn’t have the drizzles of aioli that typically graces a Canadian carpaccio, there’s tons of flavours from pickled bell peppers, brined caper berries, and thick shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano. It’s a rustic carpaccio and would be even better if the salt was toned down a bit.

The burrata pizza ($21) special had a similar vein, the white pizza foundation just lightly brushed with oil, so the paper-thin crust remained wonderfully crispy and light. While the base was sauceless, the pie was still so flavourful from the herb and garlic base, tons of arugula, bright cherry tomatoes, and a ball of cool creamy burrata that went so nicely with the crispy hot dough. How do we get this special to be on the permanent menu?

I’m glad we tried their house made pasta as the curly strands of casarecce were perfectly done, chewy but still soft – almost like a pasta and gnocchi hybrid. The pasta’s crevices helped to scoop up the shrimp cognac’s ($24) creamy cognac rosé sauce, which was rich but refreshing. We were surprised by the generous portion of six tablespoon sized shrimp that topped the dish, more than enough to go around while sharing.

The pesto green ($17) was also large with plenty of the basil sauce so that it seeps into the tubular garganelli. The small dollops of ricotta were a nice touch, but there needed to be more of it. 

While the seafood spaghetti’s ($28) presentation wasn’t the greatest, the dish contained a decent selection of seafood: shrimp, salmon, calamari, mussels, and clams. Like the other pastas, Za didn’t skimp on the ingredients as there was plenty of it. Often, pasta that’s fresh is best, but on the odd occasion I prefer the dried variety. For spaghetti this is the case, as I found the fresh version too doughy and soft.

Interestingly, Za uses a spicy tomato white wine sauce with the seafood spaghetti. The heat was evident but doesn’t necessarily add to the dish. In retrospect, I would have preferred a traditional non-spicy sauce instead.

The Basque cheesecake ($12) is ideal for sharing as it’s sizeable. While it was well caramelized, that slightly toasted taste wasn’t pronounced… it pretty much tasted like any other cheesecake. Perhaps it’s because the mixture was too dense, not the light creamy consistency you’d expect from a Basque.  

Za’s tiramisu ($9) was a let down. It consisted of a lot of whipped cream and cocoa powder and very little lady fingers and mascarpone. At least it was a flavourful dessert, albeit basic and without a zip of zabaglione, which is disappointing compared to their other rustic fares. 

If you can look past all the construction and darkness, Za Café Pizzeria and Bar is an ideal place for an inexpensive meal or a pre-theatre dinner prior to heading to the Ed Mirvish or Elgin theatres, a short walk from the area. Just bring a friend as deciding between pizza or pasta will be terribly unpleasant. The answer is to just have both.