Address: 4 Boulton Ave. (at Queen St. E.)

In a city where brunch most often means basic eggs benedict or avocado toast, Michael Semidotski, George Grabsky and Abraham Zerea, the partners behind this airy Riverside room, look to Ukraine, Israel and Eritrea, their homelands, to revitalize the mid-morning meal. The trio, previously of Parallel Brothers, use North African merguez sausage, made with their own berbere spice mix, in their egg-and-potatoes skillet; whipped labneh on their smoked salmon sandwich; and the cilantro, garlic and chili mix called zhug as the house hot sauce. Their Amber Eggs marries eggs benedict and shakshuka, serving poached eggs and spinach on potato-bread bruschetta, all on a tangy savoury tomato sauce. And oh, that bread — it’s baked in-house, soft and sublime. (Even the kids’ pita toasts and the breakfast sandwich here start with house-made breads.) Their creamy polenta, topped with nicely chewy mushrooms and poached eggs, offers a European spin on a warm bowl of oatmeal. The breakfast sandwich combines a thick slab of frittata and a whole wheat sourdough bun with a zesty swipe of zhug mayo. — Janet Hurley

Address: 1455 Gerrard St. E. (at Craven Rd.)

This curvy, candle-lit funhouse, the younger and somehow even cooler sibling to Lake Inez, could almost coast on style points alone. The seating was hand-moulded by a skate park designer, the decor includes both a giant swordfish mosaic and a poster of David Lee Roth, and the drinks list, from all-star bar manager Linh Phan, is built for wild nights out; Belle Isle’s jiggly, curacao-blue jell-o shots — a signature dessert — bear the inscription “fuck it” on their tops. Yet that’s just a backdrop to the young co-chefs Keith Siu and Ronan Shaftoe’s often exhilarating modern Cantonese-Canadian cooking. Along with the crews at Mimi Chinese and Sunnys, the two are creating a distinctly Toronto subcuisine in realtime, built, as Siu puts in, on “what it feels like to grow up in Toronto as a Chinese immigrant kid.” Their take on Chongqing hidden chicken forgoes the usual Szechuan-spiced wings for wet lemon pepper (aka “strip club”) ones; it’s both hilarious and delicious. Their sensationally tasty crudo appetizer, a nostalgic play on Hong Kong curry fish balls, combines mild, creamy-textured curry with sweet yellowtail tuna slices, punchy yellow tomato halves and tiny goldfish-shaped potato chips they painstakingly cut and fry in-house. The cheung fun rice rolls are all rich, decadent, lip-coating deliciousness, stuffed with roasty-tasting beef shank and tendon terrine, while the peanut-brittle topped dan dan noodles come sweet, cheap and compulsively inhalable. Is this drinking food or fine cuisine? It’s probably best just to say: both. Another can’t-miss: their coarsely-chopped beef tartare served with crispy chives, deep-fried sesame bread and a brightly tingly cumin and green Szechuan peppercorn mayo; it follows almost none of the rules of beef tartare and is also quite possibly the most delicious version in town. Though there are other excellent desserts, the jell-o shot is more interesting than at first blush. One recent rendition was flavoured with milk tea, black-sugar-seasoned tapioca pearls and Ontario rhubarb — as well, of course, as a healthy bit of booze. — Chris Nuttall-Smith

Address: 2183 Danforth Ave. (at Cedarvale Ave.)

Diners nostalgic for the Hungarian schnitzels that were once a staple around town will be delighted at this spacious spot, with its paprika-red walls. The traditional menu is replete with stews, soups, stuffed crepes and Hungarian sweets, but schnitzels are a specialty. The towering meat castle called the Budapest Platter for Two includes a puffy, golden, breadcrumb-battered wiener schnitzel and a crispy, floured (but unbreaded) Parisian schnitzel, and that’s just the start. There’s a tender grilled pork chop, also, as well as snappy-skinned debreceni sausages with sweet onions on top. The sides include a moat of creamy fried potatoes, refreshingly tart cucumber salad and plump nokedli egg dumplings — palate cleansers, relatively speaking. The platter also bears a nicely porky cabbage roll, bathing in a luscious tomato sauce, but thanks to completely understandable space limitations (there’s no room on the meat mountain), it’s served on a separate plate. The tender beef pörkölt here is also worth ordering, a traditional Hungarian paprika-spiced stew. For dessert, the eggy palacsinta crepes come filled with poppy seeds, a relatively light and simple finish to the meal. — Karon Liu

Address: 1168 Queen St. E. (at Jones Ave.)

Toronto can thank Detroit for exporting its signature pan pizzas here before cross-border trade turned ugly. Descendant Detroit Style Pizza opened in Leslieville in 2015 and remains the go-to for the cheesy-crusted, focaccia-like pies. The secret is in the pan: deep, heavy-duty anodized aluminum that transfers enough heat to practically fry the oil-slicked base of the dough, producing a telltale border of frico (fried cheese, basically) around the edge. A three-day cold fermentation gives Descendant’s sourdough crust an unexpected lightness, yet enough strength to hold all the toppings. The shop’s basic cheese-and-tomato base model showcases Descendant’s excellent sauce, which cuts a bright, fresh-tomato streak atop the cheese-pull-ready blend of Detroit-standard brick cheese and grass-fed Australian mozzarella. But its maximalist approach to flavour and topping pays off with the Electric Avenue (pineapple, jerk chicken, curried lime aioli and hot sauce) and the Jaffna (yes, that is Sri Lankan kothu roti and coconut sambol on there) — two multicultural pies that could only have been born in Toronto, but not without an assist from Motown. — Alex Baldinger

Address: 955 Gerrard St. E. (at Pape Ave.)

Contact: 416-465-0955; mapleleaftavern.co

If there is a tavern in your mind, this one’s probably better. Soft light and dark wood, framed drawings of race horses, blood-red banquettes and stained glass. It’s the kind of place where parents bring their teenage children as an introduction to the finer parts of a responsible adult life. The most fun on a Saturday night is in the dining room, where the empty-nest set gets buzzed on classic cocktails. But in an alcove at the back, you get an uninterrupted view of the kitchen. (“All right,” executive chef Monica Emilia Adarme called out one evening, reading a ticket. She smiled a mischievous smile. “Butter allergy.”) Keep an eye on the brick oven, burning maple and fruit wood, where this disciplined team produces most of its magic: soy-ginger broccolini with a whisper of char and scallion; blushing salmon with bubbling skin; grilled bacon to drape over a proper, yolky caesar salad; and hanger steak brushed with beef fat. The roast chicken verges on the platonic ideal, basted with garlic butter and rosemary. And the whole place screams “very good burger.” Do not ignore the call. — Jake Edmiston

Address: 354 Broadview Ave. (at Gerrard St. E.)

Oji Sechi approaches ramen with a sensibility that feels distinctly Toronto. Run by chef Mitch Bates (Momofuku Shōtō) and partners, the restaurant focuses on lighter, Tokyo-style broths paired with house-made noodles that have a satisfying chew. The classic shoyu is excellent, its clear broth deeply savoury, topped with thick slices of roast pork that arrive lightly grilled, smoky and tender. The spicy sesame bowl adds creamy richness and heat, while the veggie miso ramen, built on satisfying, richly flavourful mushroom broth, is a standout in its own right. Across the board, the bowls arrive with enough toppings to keep textures varied and flavours engaging to the last bite. Beyond noodles, the menu branches out in playful ways. “Sandys” include a terrific shrimp sandwich disguised as fast food. A strong drinks list, soft-serve sundaes and a steady rotation of specials keep the place worthy of return trips. — Eshun Mott

Address: 942 Pape Ave. (at Westwood Ave.)

There’s all manner of thrills on Danforth Avenue’s Greektown strip: flaming cheese, fancy wine cellars, suave modern rooms run by air-kissing hosts. What none of those places offer, however, is a stand-alone charcoal rotisserie shack, where every weekend they slow-roast their meats to sizzling, smoky, melty-juicy succulence. For that, you must travel a few blocks north, to this distinctly down-home gem. The servers will call you “honey” here. When you order a glass of the (very nice) house red, it arrives filled right to the brim. The mezes — mild, sherbet-pink taramasalata; melitzanosalata whipped from charred-to-collapsing eggplant — are wonderful (be sure to drizzle on the olive oil); the lemon potatoes roasty-soft and oregano-flecked. And to be sure, seven days a week, they do a brisk trade in souvlaki and chargrilled meats. But the thrill is in the Friday-to-Sunday cooking, when that little shack’s puff-puffing chimney conclaves its pork-and-chicken-scented smoke. Those kontosouvli meats, $20 or so per plate, are worthy, at least to us, of the keys to the city. (When you reserve, by telephone, because it’s still the 1990s here, ask them to hold a plate of each of the pork and chicken; they do run out.) For dessert, there’s excellent baklava, a simple finish to one of the most thrilling Greek feasts in town. — Chris Nuttall-Smith

Address: 1425 Gerrard St. E.(at Hiawatha Rd.)

It’s strange what can happen when you try Luis Bautista’s cooking. Take his fabulously decadent shrimp and octopus-based birria tacos, which he serves in a shallow pool of ceviche-style broth. They’re crunchy and saucy from high-heat griddling, darkly warm with guajillo chiles, complex with the taste of top-quality seafood and also brightly citrusy-zingy. They are quite liable, as well, to make you forget where you are — in a cheery, seafood-focused taqueria in the heart of Little India, where the kitchen trades in the likes of Hokkaido scallops and soft-shell crab. Seafood-focus notwithstanding, Puerto Bravo’s carne asada tacos are a minor miracle: their charcoal-grilled beef prodigiously delicious, their refreshing chopped radish and melty, milky asadero cheese garnish perfectly judged. (Pro-tip: The fiery house habanero salsa is superb.) After eating here recently, one homesick native of Mexico City turned to the server, a salsa-borne flush having taken up residence in his cheeks. “Estos son los mejores tacos en la ciudad,” he said — these are the best tacos in the city. He wasn’t even remotely wrong. — Chris Nuttall-Smith

Address: 351 Broadview Ave. (at Gerrard St. E.)

Chinese barbecue is notoriously hit and miss. Most of the old si-fus, the barbecue masters, are long retired, and few if any places consistently nail the cuisine’s four staples: barbecue pork, roast duck, roast pork and poached chicken. But the regulars at this Chinatown east mainstay come for the kitchen’s roast pork, its skin consistently delicate and crackly, and the meat well enough seasoned that dipping sauce seems beside the point. Save the sauce — they make their own here — for the glistening roast duck, it allows the fatty waterfowl to shine. For what it’s worth, the poached chicken is nicely chickeny — high praise in many quarters — and the char siu comes sweet and sticky and properly full-flavoured; ask for the end pieces if you’re into super-concentrated crusty bits. Cantonese staples round out the menu: congee, wok-fried rice, noodles and vegetables. Pro-tip: Barbecue and steam-filled takeout boxes don’t mix; grab a table instead in the bare-bones dining room. It is always alive with the neighbourhood chatter of Chinatown. — Karon Liu

Address: 1360 Danforth Ave. (at Gillard Ave.)

Though the mirrored ceilings and LED strip lighting lend the room a nightclub vibe, the menu here is pure Ethiopian classics, executed with exceptional finesse. The menu covers off the traditional sautéed meats called tibs, plus plenty of stewed vegetables, sandwiches, and even spaghetti. Your best bets for variety are Wazema’s excellent combos. The meat version divides an enormous round of injera–the spongy, tangy flatbread made with fermented teff flour–into a delicious pie chart, with different beef dishes spooned into each section. Among them, the Derek tibs is spectacular: chunks of tender beef sautéed to-order until a caramelized crust forms on the outside. Contrasting that is the finely minced raw beef kitfo, which comes mixed with cardamom-spiced butter, with sides of cottage cheese and stewed collards; the texture of the delicate tartare perfectly mirrors the mild creaminess of the cheese. (They’ll also cook the kitfo to well-done if you’d prefer.) The equally vibrant vegetarian platter avoids the common pitfall of watery legumes that result in soggy injera: A fiery red berbere chili blend brings chunky, tender red lentils to life while softened yellow split peas are infused with the warm glow of turmeric. — Karon Liu

Address: 678 Queen St. E. (at Hamilton St.)

The scratch-made, Southern-leaning comfort cooking at this Riverdale favourite is revered for good reason. This is diner food dialed in: deceptively simple dishes grounded in precision, freshness and a deep commitment to local farms. The pimiento cheese lands sharp and perfectly seasoned, thick over buttered sourdough, with house-pickled daikon, beets and carrots on the side. The Southern Breakfast is rich and satisfying, its jiggly-yolked eggs set over creamy grits and gravy, anchored by bracing fermented mustard greens so good they almost steal the show. The meat loaf arrives deeply seared but tender, its craggy edges lifted by tangy tomato relish. Then there’s the chicken buttermilk dumpling soup: smoked thigh meat and bouncy dumplings in a clear maitake mushroom broth so deeply layered it halts conversation. Owner Gajan Panchadcharam, who took over the business in 2024, still bakes the breads twice daily, cures and smokes the meats on-site and sources largely from Ontario farms — quiet, quotidian dedication that shows up on every plate. — Chi Nguyễn