While Es Ventall is set within the city limits of Sant Antoni, walk into the restaurant and you’re transported into an idyllic oasis especially while dining al fresco. Sitting in the courtyard is oddly calming, amongst nature and the enormous fig tree, giving the establishment a charm that’s difficult to replicate elsewhere.  

For diners who aren’t familiar with Ibizan cuisine, Es Ventall’s menu is descriptive listing out the individual ingredients and eliciting a sense of excitement to see how things tie together. The Ibizan tomatoes salad (19€) starts with a bed of ripe chopped tomatoes and tops it with a full burrata, which when broken creates a creaminess to the dish. Strawberries and basil add an interesting refreshing element, but I would have skipped the crunchy pistachios that detract from the silkiness of the salad.

I can’t turn down trying a roasted aubergine (17€), which when done well takes the spongy eggplant and turns it into a creamy concoction. Es Ventall whole roasts the vegetable until it’s soft but still holds its shape and smears a sugary praline and fruit mixture on top. The dish is too dessert-like for me, I wish the praline spread was replaced with something savoury that would go better with the basil cream.

Our waiter describes the tomato and grilled prawn salad (26€) as being smaller, which is an understatement as the dish is truly skimpy. To call the crustaceans on the plate as grilled “prawns” is misleading, the thumb sized items are spot prawn sized, which are generally served by the half cup than individually. These Ibiza prawns are equally sweet, but given their petite size, the chef really needs to give more of these on the plate or at least leave them in the shell.

At the very least, serve the “prawns” with more than a scant quartered tomato, crème fraiche, and an oil sorbet that while adds a lovely richness, melts into nothingness. For the price, this dish needs more tomatoes, other vegetables, and a helping of grilled crostini to swipe up the sauces.

We didn’t order the cuttlefish and Ibiza prawns’ paella with aioli (24€ per serving; a three serving portion pictured below), but the kitchen mistakenly mixed up our order with another table, so we ended up having it as our main. While the dish had a lovely aroma, the rice was awfully salty reminding me of the soy sauce tasting concoction I had in Barcelona a decade earlier. Perhaps this is the traditional way of preparing paella, but the saltiness is so pungent that it detracts from the seafood and the rice becomes saturated in sauce that there’s no crispy bottom. This paella was a bust.

It's a shame, as I had really wanted to try the fideua, a dish that’s made paella style but switches out the rice for pasta instead. For one, it’s rarely seen elsewhere, and I love trying new creations. Alas, the humid August heat was getting to us and despite the miniscule starters our hunger simply went away. Sitting al fresco may be idyllic and romantic but give me air conditioning instead. 

If you’ve ever frequented Danforth in the 1990s, you might have eaten at Myth. Flash forward to 2021 and the restaurant was revived with a beautiful facelift on King West by Matty Tsoumaris, the son of the family. The warm gold, wood, and cream tones made me feel I could be lying in a chaise lounger by an indoor pool. The restaurant is buzzy but in a calm way. At least, until the fire dancers performed, and the energy really picked up.

As a Toronto Life Insider member, I was there to check out Myth with a tasting menu ($125 before taxes and gratuities) offering several courses complete with wine pairings and an espresso martini. If I was feeling tired, that jolt of vodka and caffeine provided the start I needed to the meal. Ground pistachios are dusted onto the espresso martini ($20) for an interesting texture against the smooth foam, it’s different but I’m not sure if I prefer it. Note: regular menu prices are included in the post for informational purposes. Serving sizes will likely differ from what is pictured given the tasting menu format.

Beginning with an off-menu item, Matty explains it’s customary for Greek people to offer guests (even if they are strangers) something to eat when they enter a home as there’s a belief that Gods may be visiting the Earth… and you would never want to not feed a God! Our divine offering was a creamy compressed roe in a buttery tart shell. It tasted of the sea, hinting at the Mykonos inspired menu to come.

We then moved into the actual tasting menu, starting with a bite of soy-laced beef tartare served in a cone. I wasn’t expecting the amuse bouche to be sweet, but it gave the tartare a teriyaki feel that worked, especially when paired with the crispy cone that is reminiscent of eating ice cream.

Myth’s mezze platter ($35) consists of a collection of dishes, and I love that it showcases some lesser-known dips. Of course, there’s the popular hummus, which was thick and filling, but the mezze also featured a silky smooth taramasalata that has an umami saltiness to it from the cured roe. Warning to vegetarians, if I hadn’t been told there was fish in the dip, I would have never known. The roe adds a brininess to the dip without any fishiness.

If you enjoy feta, try the tirokafteri dip that uses the cheese as the base but has a hit of peppers that creates an unexpected spiciness. It goes great with the soft warm pita or smeared onto the crudite given it had such a flavourful salty kick.

While a bit cheesy (pun intended), the cheer of “opa!” before setting the ouzo on fire is what makes saganaki ($22) such a staple. The kefalograviera cheese was oh so gooey, salty, and lightened with just a hint of lemon. I just wished there was more than one piece of toasted bread to go with it.

It’s not everyday you find raw fish at a Greek restaurant. Myth uses slices of yellowtail hamachi in the magiatiko ($28) adorned with an olive tapenade that was too overpowering. If anything, the dollop of creamy taramasalata (the same fish roe dip featured in the mezze) was more than salty enough. Still, it was beautifully plated and a great light starter.

The arancini was good… less creamy than an Italian version, but also didn’t leave me feeling as full. It was smartly paired with a feta mousse, which added a touch of sauciness to the risotto but didn’t detract from the crunchy crust.

Surprisingly, I really enjoyed the beetroot carpaccio, so much so that I’d prefer it to the beef counterpart. The sweet thinly slice beets were enhanced with tangy yogurt and a yellow beet mousse. Because there were so many creamy ingredients, the roasted pecans worked nicely to add a contrasting texture. Sadly, the dish isn’t on their regular menu, which really should be included as it’s a hit.

Another off-menu item was the youvetsi, a bed of plump fragrant orzo topped with an extremely tender beef cheek. The meat could use more seasoning, but the pasta was delicious and well flavoured. If anything, the olive tapenade that was too harsh for the hamachi would go nicely on the beef here.

While the lavraki ($65) was cooked adequately, it didn’t look very appetizing. I’d recommend the chef keeping the skin on and crisping it up to give the fillet a more aesthetically pleasing structure and texture. As fish goes, it tasted fresh and the main was a nice lighter change after the beef cheek. I just found the lemon in the thyme oil heavy handed in the stewed wild horta, dandelion greens that tastes like spinach, so it was a bit harsh against the neutral fish.

In retrospect, the lemon thyme oil would have gone nicely with the roasted potatoes ($16) as these were dense and would have benefited from a bright element. Too bad the sides were served after all the mains so there wasn’t really anything to go with them. If you’re a fan of roasted Brussel sprouts, the broccolini ($23) is a side with the same feel - the crispy roasted greens topped with hot pepper sauce, lemon oil, and cheese.  

For the tasting menu, Myth chose to feature a rizogalo as dessert. While the rice pudding was decent, it was too dense, so it felt like you’d eating a clump of rice versus a creamy saucy pudding. It also needed to be sweeter to satisfy. As it stands, the dish is more brunch than dessert.

Despite being opened for over two years, Myth is still going through some growing pains. Even though service was friendly, the wine pairings and sides just weren’t keeping up with the food coming out. Maybe because it’s such a big restaurant, but the various stations weren’t communicating to make the meal a fulsome experience. Who knows, maybe with some time the restaurant will eventually become a feast for the Gods. 

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. 

A tasty taco starts with the shell. At Fonda Balam, their corn shells are made fresh in-house so that they’re soft and pliable, not the crumbly cracking mess that some shells can become. Meanwhile, the corn flavour lightly permeates the wrapper without being overly pungent.

Generally, the pork in a taco de carnitas ($9 each) tends to be pulled. Fonda Balam leaves theirs in roasted chunks instead, so there’s a meaty bite without being too saucy or heavy. In lieu of barbeque sauce, the pork was paired with an ample amount of guacamole helping to add creaminess and hold together the pickled jalapeno and white onion, which cuts the greasiness of the meat.

Similarly, the chicken in the taco de tinga de pollo ($9 each) was also cut into pieces and very flavourful having been braised in a chipotle tomato sauce and doused with crema and queso fresco. The garnish of pickled red onions creates a bit of a crunch against the otherwise soft tacos.

For something different, the taco dorados de papa ($14 for 2) takes a crunchy shell and fills it with spicy stewed potato chunks that are so moist and fluffy that there’s a refried bean quality to the filling without the heaviness (and hopefully the resulting gas). Crunchy lettuce, a liberal sprinkling of queso fresco, and drizzles of sour cream & salsa de molcajete makes for a surprisingly hearty and flavourful taco. This is a great option for vegetarians or those who wants a saucy crunchy creation.  

But of course, it’s the quesabirria con consome ($22 for 2) that really elicits excitement… the crispy pan-fried shell stuffed with shaved beef and enough cheese that it squeezes out and gets caramelized on the grill. I just wish the consommé was stronger as I did find the taco, even when dipped into the broth, still needed the salsa roja or salsa verde to taste flavourful. Luckily, Fonda Balam doesn’t skimp on the beef, so if you’re not hungry an order is enough to satisfy and given it’s not overly salty this birria won’t leave you thirsty.

Even though the restaurant’s dining room isn’t overly large, it can seat a lot of people with it’s strategically laid out wrap around seating, bar stools along the window ledge, and spacious patio. Food also seems to fly out of the kitchen at a nice pace so if there is a line, do not let that deter you from waiting. Because when you want a good taco, you come here. 

As I recount my latest experience at Alo, I grapple with the final mark: would I still consider them a 9 or a “top pick”? There were dishes that were incredible, but then some that missed the mark. The tasting menu ($225 per person) was off to a shaky start when the canapés arrived.

We’re instructed to eat the four bites in a particular order. The first, an oyster with compressed cantaloupe and Iberico ham oil had a fishy essence without an acidic element (like the traditional mignonette or lemon) to help cut through the strong taste. It also seemed off that it wasn’t ice cold for something that should be served uber fresh. The first bite was a bust.

Slowly, the redemption started with the beautifully presented uni tart, which was made even creamier with a thick crème fraiche on the bottom. While this wasn’t mind-blowing, it was at least not repulsive.

After the fishy oyster I had doubts about the mackerel tart, but this was unfounded as the meaty fish was very clean tasting and well balanced with bright pops of the daintiest tomatoes and fruit. Indeed, there was an ocean-like essence from the caviar, but it wasn’t overpowering.

The canapés ended with a foie gras and strawberry jelly tart that created a sweet and savoury element. This was surprisingly good and wonderfully rich.

It’s unclear if Alo is pandering to Michelin inspectors as the procession of Japanese dishes just seem out of place at a French restaurant. Sure, I can understand if they want to throw in one dish that’s has a Japanese influence, but to feature a handful was just too much.

Moreover, some dishes just can’t live up to what you’d be served during an omakase meal. Chef Patrick Kriss should drop the madai course, a sea bream paired with chili oil, caviar, and kumquat. Like the oyster, it was fishy and warm. Give me this fish cool with freshly grated wasabi and soy sauce any day.

The kinmedai was better, the red snapper was at least cold and refreshing with the oh so finely julienned radish in the centre. The various oils complimented the fish nicely and this was an improvement over the other sashimi course. If Alo must have a sashimi course (why would it), one is enough.

Having a soft spot for chawanmushi I wouldn’t be opposed to this remaining on the menu. The actual steamed egg was hot and silky, but then enhanced with lovely French and Western elements: smooth foie gras tofu cubes, fragrant truffle paste, crunchy radish, sweet corn, and crispy chicken skin. All this amongst a pool of reduced capon broth. What an incredible dish!

At this point, the meal started having an upward trajectory. The chanterelle mushrooms were so meaty and cooked to the point of perfection – no longer raw and spongy but not too wilted either. Paired with spinach, artichoke, and a luscious whipped egg sauce, it was so delicious that I wanted to lick the bowl.

The seared scallop and roasted mussel continued the ascent with its superb execution. The scallop was seared beautifully and super sweet and the mussel so tender ending with a lovely clean finish that it’s unlike any mussel I’ve ever had. Paired with a savoury foam and parsley sauce, these were the perfect seasoning not overshadowing the seafood’s natural flavours.

At the beginning, we were asked if we’d like to substitute the rice dish for foie gras (supplemental $40). Why anyone would want to miss out on the Koshihikari rice with Dungeness crab is beyond me. Koshihikari is a short grain rice that’s cultivated to be used in many dishes, including risotto so that it has that creaminess but also a more distinct grain that Arborio. The risotto was cheesy and savoury with bits of snap pea added to give it a crunchy pop of freshness that was so good that I longed for more. To elevate the dish, thin slices of wagyu beef topped the dish, so that as it melts the fat seeps into the rice. Do not replace this baby.

A boneless lamb chop follows seared to perfection and having a lovely charbroil taste. As you have a cube of the meat with the garnishes, each bite tastes so different – whether it’s the peel tomato, fried shallots, or patty pan squash. Somewhere down the line you sample the the olive stuffed with sausage, which is good but a bit heavy, so I’d recommend saving it for the last bite.

Alas, the meal bell curves with the last savoury dish being mediocre. The striploin was fine, slightly over cooked, but at least having a nice grilled essence. Yet, it’s the miso sauce that really threw me off and added a weird funk to the steak. Perhaps if we upgraded the dry aged angus to the Japanese A5 wagyu (supplemental $90) it would pair better, but as it stood the sauce was a bust. Moreover, the deep-fried eggplant tempura garnish was too seedy and bitter.

The only saving grace was the pain au lait that gets paired with the striploin. It’s just as fluffy and fragrant as I remembered. I absolutely love Alo’s bread, so much so that they even gave us an order to go, what a sweet and unexpected gesture.

Normally, sorbet palette cleansers can be really tart and pungent. Alo tones it down with their take on strawberries and cream where the layer of cream at the bottom helps balance out the frozen Italian wine with strawberries and the champagne foam.

Dessert progresses with a tasty meringue with peach mousse and vanilla cake. Garnished with a verbena lemon sauce the dessert is a nice balance of sweet and sour. After so many dishes, I’m glad it’s a lighter finish that still has a sweetness that satisfies.

It wouldn’t be a French meal without a box of petit fours, presented in a lovely tree box. I love that they made a mini lemon meringue to pay homage to Aloette downstairs but it’s not nearly as good as the sister restaurant as meringue is so small that the bite was fairly sour. The passion fruit caramel was too sticky and the chocolate caramel too sweet. It was the simple strawberry gelee that was just right, enhanced by the fruit’s natural flavours and a great consistency. I felt like Goldilocks going through the petit fours trying to find the perfect bite.

Save room for their canale as it’s a lovely combination of crispy caramelized shell and fluffy moist interior. Consequently, it also paired perfectly with a cappuccino ($6).

The roller coaster food aside, Alo does excel at service. There’s a lovely chill we-don’t-take-ourselves-too-seriously vibe with the 90s rap playing and the entire staff sporting New Balance kicks. Everyone we encountered was so friendly, professional, and knowledgeable that we knew we were in good hands.