Shunoko reminds me of Shoushin, before it was awarded a Michelin star and their tasting menus now start at $330. The restaurant quietly opened in the spring and was relatively unknown unless you’ve visited their previous location at Yonge and St. Clair. It’s helmed by Chef Jun Kim whose father and uncle both owned sushi restaurants in Korea.

While Shunoko offers an a la carte menu, it’s their omakase that drew my interest. The promise of twelve pieces of sushi, four “tastings”, and a dessert for only $100 seemed too good to be true. I arrived with lowered expectations and was blown away by the experience.

Best yet, there’s also a $30 wine pairing that’s an appealing contrast to the traditional sake pairings. Chef Jun notes that he likes wine, especially natural ones, and prefers its subtle flavours when paired with sushi. He likes to just crack open bottles with friends, while eating sushi, and see what works. Up first, a flute of light dry cava from Barcelona, a classic wine to pair with fish.

The meal started with a cube of cold tofu topped with spot prawn and ikura (salmon fish roe). I’ve never been a fan of the texture of raw shrimp. Shunoko’s was still a bit gummy, although less so than some establishments, but could be even better if it was quickly poached. The combination of briny ikura and soy was also a tad salty, working well with plain tofu but detracts from the shrimp’s sweetness.

Luckily, the following sea bream with ginger dressing was a hit. The sauce reminds me of the concoction used on salads, excepts less vinegary and having a thicker purée consistency. It goes so nicely with the slices of meaty fish, giving it a warm feeling, even though the dish was served cool – you must taste it to understand. The bits of chives rounded it off so nicely.

The first nigiri of the night was fluke wrapped around sisho leaf and topped with a piece of its fin. A lovely fresh start with a bit of interest from the chewy fin piece.

It’s followed by the chicken grunt, which is the strangest tasting fish I’ve ever had. While it looks like it comes from the sea, it has the taste of chicken, especially the chewiness of its skin. There’s a gaminess to the protein that’s mellowed a bit by the chives but could use something stronger like chopped scallions and ginger. While not my favourite bite, it’s nevertheless interesting to try.

Chef Jun simply tops the sea bream with rock salt, which while simplistic changes the taste of the classic fish. It’s savoury and neutral so that you can also enjoy the warm creamy rice, that has a lovely soft consistency but could use a splash more vinegar.

The amber jack was nice and meaty and had a light spicy essence from the pepper leaf topping it. But what made this piece shine was the French cider pairing. The cider must be aged in barrels giving it an olive scent. Yet, when you drink it, there’s a mellow sweetness that finishes off so smoothly, not like the overly fruity and bubbly canned cider you’d find at the LCBO.

One of our favourite pieces of the night was the yellow tail finished with ponzu and chives. It’s perfect for the warm whether, so refreshing and bright.

If Chef Jun didn’t tell me the next piece was striped jack, I’d almost think it’s horse mackerel as there’s such a meatiness to the fish. All while still having a clean neutral finish.

It’s at this point in the meal that the restaurant seemed to be in full swing, the four tables for two and the approximate nine chairs around the sushi bar were almost at capacity. Given Shunoko offers an a la carte and two omakase menus, it’s quite the feat to juggle.

From what we could tell, Chef Jun concentrates on the omakase experience while the other sushi chef focuses on the rest. The sous chef also fills in as the sommelier, explaining what we’re drinking and how many courses it should last.

The biggest flop for me of the evening was the scallop with truffle oil. Oh, truffle oil, such a powerful seasoning that can work with neutral fatty items but overpowers the scallop until it almost tastes bitter. At least it was paired with a gewürztraminer, the wine’s slight sweetness helps to counteract some of the bitterness. It was a lovely version of the German wine, ending with a buttery finish.

Shunoko’s horse mackerel was so refreshingly clean that it’s a testament to Chef Jun’s expertise. He knows how to prepare and neutralize a cut that can sometimes be so overly fishy.

The following Portuguese sardine was a tad gamier, but when paired with onion helped to ensure any fishiness was offset. Surprisingly, the fish was delicate, perhaps it’s because I’m normally familiar with the packed canned variety. This was paired with a French sparkling rosé, a lovely summery wine to finish the tasting.

Oddly, it was the blue fin tuna that had a gaminess, for what is normally a crowd-pleasing piece. I’m wondering if the chef mistakenly called the cherry salmon, which was listed on the board, tuna instead as this really didn’t taste that much like blue fin to us. If it were salmon, it would make more sense, like a concentrated slice of the fish.

I thoroughly enjoyed the bonito that had such a different creamy finish than most establishments. The lightly smoked fish was topped with ponzu and daikon for a bit of freshness.

Another “first taste” of fish for me of the night (aside from the chicken grunt) was the phantom fish. Despite looking like a traditional white fish, it’s rich in taste – almost like a mackerel and bonito morphed into one – so was aptly adorned with shallot to give it a punch. It’s a fascinating fish as it emits a taste that reminded me of the ocean. Let me know if you try this and feel the same.

Finally, something that actually tastes like blue fin tuna, this piece consisting of the belly cut with more chopped tuna on top! Finished with a light floral shisho flower and rock salt, this was another favourite of the evening.

Shunoko’s miso soup must be made with a fish bone broth as there it’s creamy, rich, and has a slight oiliness. Whatever it’s made with, it’s delicious and hearty, even containing some crispy napa cabbage.

Usually, when the soup is served, the meal finishes and turns to dessert. At this point, Chef Jun comes over to ask if we’d still have room for a hand roll. While I was getting full, how do you turn down another taste? He ended up presenting us with a hefty roll filled with sea bream (?), marinated mushrooms, and sisho leaf so there were so many flavours wrapped into one crispy shell.

Imagine our surprise, when the nigiri procession continued with the last piece – a tamago taco. If you’re worried about leaving the restaurant hungry (I’ll admit, my husband and I usually get something from McDonalds after some omakase meals), it won’t happen here. Shunoko’s tamago was three slices wrapped around rice. It was slightly too cold for my taste, but with its sweetness perhaps its meant to be enjoyed like a custard dessert.

Only, we were presented with actual dessert: a rich coconutty taro ice cream. It’s so creamy and delicious that I thought they would have made it in-house, but we’re advised it’s purchased from a third-party. Boy, would I like to get my hands on a take-home pint. There’s a lovely, toasted taste to the ice cream, perhaps it mixes in crispy coconut chips?

If the above sounds like too hefty a meal, Shunoko offers a “Nigiri 10” menu, which consists of ten pieces of sushi (essentially ten of the pieces that is part of their omakase menu), tamago, and miso soup for less ($67 during our dinner). Best yet, this menu doesn’t require pre-ordering with reservations, so if you find yourself walking by Shunoko and have a hankering for good sushi, you can walk-in and enjoy. 

Avelo’s 8-course meal ($120) leaves you comfortably full, without sickness, given dishes aren’t overly heavy. Perhaps that’s what I found lacking, the one or two course that simply envelops you in glutinous comfort food. The closest contender was probably the fourth course - a buckwheat gnocchi with fermented porcini sauce – still, the buckwheat gave the gnocchi a nutty fibrous kick and the sauce was more umami than rich. Hardly the sinful plate I was looking for. At least it was flavourful and the chanterelles beautifully sauteed.

The sourdough everything bagel on the bottom of the first course was superb: crusty on the outside and fluffy on the inside. In lieu of cream cheese and lox, Avelo uses kojified carrot and macadamia cheese, which replicates the slight smoky creaminess on the bagel. It’s just an interesting way of starting a tasting menu, maybe Avelo’s version of a bread course?

Having dined at Avelo’s predecessor, Awai, I was praying for the mushroom soup, a heavenly concoction that had even those who detest mushrooms nodding in approval. Sadly, it didn’t make an appearance and the soup featured roasted kabocha squash instead. It’s difficult to make squash soup exciting, something that can so easily be made at home. Avelo tried to enhance its presentation with apple and salsify pieces to decorate the bowl, but they did little to augment the experience as they’re rather similar in texture. The pumpkin dust was a good start, adding a bit of grittiness to the smooth soup, but it really did need something else crispy or chewy (perhaps a puffed tapioca) to balance out all the mushiness.

Interestingly, after a rutabaga is roasted, it gives off a potato-like flavour, except it’s a severely dry spud. The kitchen tried adding mashed cauliflower to create moisture in the dish, but the small dollop was hardly enough. What it really needed was a sauce, something that would add liquid and flavour as the dish was so boring - when you’re serving vegetables flavour is your friend.

Slices of truffle garnished the rutabaga, but its dry texture meant the truffle was wasted. If anything, this prized ingredient would have been better featured with the gnocchi instead.

Their one bite amuse bouche was impressive: a potato galette that’s described as Avelo’s version of cauliflower tots. I’d say it’s more like fried mac ‘n’ cheese except without the pasta. The galette is piping hot and delicious. Still, some of my friends found the horseradish garnish overpowering, adding a sharp tang when the onion base was already good on its own.

Give me another galette in lieu of the celeriac kofta any day. The kofta is just a drier less exciting version of the potato galette. Sure, it was plated prettily with a well roasted parsnip log adorned with flowers but didn’t taste nearly as good.

What does Avelo’s kitchen have against moisture? I can imagine someone at a stove grumbling about never wanting to make a French sauce again. All their dishes are dry and screaming for sauce… like the cranberry bean tempeh with roasted radicchio. The fruity glaze on the tempeh was fine, giving the beany slab an almost Asian sweet and savoury flavour. But then the huge slice of bitter radicchio was such an inappropriate side. If anything, they could have continued with the Asian influences by having the tempeh sit on a bed of soba or slaw, switching out the pickled okra for snow peas for crunch.

After scanning the menu, the dish I most anticipated was the rye berry risotto. Overall, the execution was satisfactory, but the grain could have been cooked longer to allow the exterior to soften; as it stands, its more wild rice than risotto. I did enjoy the mole base (yay, a sauce!) that when mixed with the plain grains gave it a boost of flavours. The crispy crackers were also a nice garnish that contrast textures, and useful for scooping up the rye berry and mole to create a fancy tortilla and salsa.

Avelo presented two different desserts amongst the table and recommended people share with their neighbour. It’s a smart idea to encourage diners to try something different. Initially, I thought the pineapple upside-down cake would be a winner but found the coconut mousse base (not a cake) made the dessert taste more like pineapple pannacotta and lacked the buttery richness I was craving.

While the tonka bean amazake wasn’t my first choice, the hints of cocao nibs gave the gelatin-based dessert an earthy depth. Still, it could be creamier. If Avelo was going to feature two desserts, they should consider making each stand out – two pannacotta-like desserts with different flavours are hardly exciting - I would have much preferred if they switched it up and did a sweet and savoury option. The later being a nut cheese and cracker plate that is also more shareable.  

At least their mignardise was impressive. In lieu of the traditional truffle, Avelo presented their version of a “Ferro Roche”, a silky hazelnut ganache piped into a crispy caramel cone dipped in chocolate. Now this is inventive and fantastic, something the other desserts should aspire to grow into.

Overall, the meal wasn’t bad, it’s just not overly exciting and tastes like a vegan meal – healthy and void of rich elements, which is what you need to counteract course after course of vegetable and grains.

Still, I could probably overlook the blasé food and rate the experience a 6 out of 10 if it weren’t for the service. Maybe we just got someone who was too new that was left on her own. The gentlemen who eventually stepped in to explain the dishes was so passionate and animated that I loved hearing his descriptions of each course… somehow, he made a piece of charred radicchio sound exciting (it’s not). But our main sever just didn’t perform basic things I’d expect from a restaurant:

1) Using proper glassware for wine. When we ordered Prosecco, it wasn’t served with a flute or champagne glass, instead those small 3oz glasses you’d find at a winery tasting. It was a little strange as these hardly bring out the bubbles of the wine, but we used it without complaint.

It was when we switched to a bold red and our server brought another round of these mediocre glasses that my friend stepped in to politely ask if she could bring us the red wine glasses, we clearly saw displayed at the bar instead. Our server’s response, “Oh, I guess you’d prefer something that can let the wine breathe more?” Ding, ding, ding! Yes, and something to allow us to take in the aroma of the wine.

2) Performing basic math to split a bill. I completely understand if a restaurant can’t accommodate bill splitting for large tables, but our group was less than six. Since everyone didn’t partake in the wine equally, we asked if she could split the first bottle amongst the table and the second to the few who drank it.

After making it sound like a HUGE favour, something that could be accommodated this one time as they weren’t busy, the bill was merely split equally in five. C’mon, if it’s dividing by five, I could have done that calculation in three seconds with a phone. After explaining again what we were hoping for (uneven bills given the wine situation), on the second attempt, she simply took both bottles and split it amongst the few.

With this much modern technology and the tasting menu prices being constant, is splitting two bottles of wine differently that difficult? In retrospect, I wish she just said she couldn’t do the math as I could have easily calculated them myself.

To sum the experience up in an equation: boring dry food (6) less lack of basic serving skills (1) = experience at Avelo (5). 

I keep reading about the staffing shortage in Toronto, especially amongst the hospitality industry, where people have supposedly changed careers to find a role that has better hours, more stable pay, better growth prospects, etc. Vela doesn’t seem to suffer from this problem, three individuals checked in on us throughout dinner service. Their front-of-the-house and open-faced kitchen seemed stacked with individuals, no shortage here!

Firstly, to quickly sum up the experience - the meal was exquisite. The albacore tuna crudo ($21) arrived in huge chunks rather than the 1/3-inch slices generally found at other restaurants… a surprisingly generous portion of fish. Tossed with a dashi soy vinaigrette, crispy shallots, and compressed cucumbers, the dish certainly has Asian influences, which made the fried rice crackers an appropriate pairing with the crudo. Still, the tuna was so fresh and meaty that it tasted equally delicious solo.

The burrata ($24) may look typical, but the pistachio pesto provided such an interesting savory bite against the cool creamy cheese, with the nuts giving it a bit of texture. Plenty of figs and grapes were strewn throughout to add sweetness. If anyone remembers the iconic burrata from Campagnolo, this is in the same realm of deliciousness.

Of all the starters, the beef tartare ($18) was probably the most traditionally prepared. The meat was finely chopped and mixed with mayo, pickled shimeji (a tiny, sweet mushroom), and other spices. I liked that it wasn’t overly salty allowing the umami of the shaved truffles and parmesan to shine through.

We were already off to a good start and then the mains blew me away. Vela doesn’t skimp on the truffles in the truffle rigatoni ($40), the prized fungi mixed with chewy fresh pasta and just enough mushroom duxelles cream sauce for flavour without becoming overly saturated. Having dishes family style is best as the pasta was huge and being so rich would be a lot for one person.

The Nova Scotia halibut ($45) seemingly was poached in an infused broth as even the centre of the thick fish was tasty on its own. The herb beurre blanc is a traditional sauce to pair with the halibut but was augmented with a spicy stewed potato that added a burst of zeal that the meaty fish needed. Who knew, maybe halibut goes better with a chili sauce.

Even the flatiron steak ($35) was impressive, cooked to a calibre I’d expect from a steakhouse. The kitchen likely uses a reverse sear method to prepare the beef, starting off low-and-slow as the inside was cooked evenly and hot throughout. The caramelization of the outside was done ever so lightly allowing the lean cut of beef to remain tender. A bit of finishing salt rounded out the steak and was the ideal saltiness. Oh, and don’t get me started on the French fries, they are so crispy and flavourful rivaling the duck fat French fries from Beer Bistro that I love.

Food aside, what also makes Vela standout is the down-to-earth nature of the restaurant. The posh environment could seem too fancy and stuffy, but the warm greeting from the host and friendliness of other staff members really puts the diner at ease. Even quippy descriptions in the menu such as what was listed with the steaks help, “You all know what you like. Feel free to order blue, rare, medium rare, medium, medium-well, well-done, or burnt to a crisp. Live your best life!”

Vela’s huge dining room with white floors and walls could have become a starkly modern environment. Yet, if felt cozy with the dim lights, warm temperature, and dreamy white ceiling lights that reminded me of hazy clouds. There was even live jazz music playing on Tuesday, which really got me into a chill mood and had me ordering a third cocktail, despite it being the beginning of the work week. Vela just makes you comfortable with its atmosphere and their fabulous food. Live your best life indeed.