Uzbekistan is a poster child for Central Asian cuisine. It has all the representative dishes like plov (rice cooked with meat stock and the occasional dried fruit), laghman (thick, handmade noodles), and several varieties of kebab. If there is a Central Asian restaurant somewhere outside Central Asia, chances are high that it is branded as an Uzbek one.
There are a handful of decent Uzbek restaurants in Toronto. Uzbek cuisine is popular amongst Russians and hence they are usually located near Russian enclaves in North York or Vaughan. But not Puff Samosa. They chose to set up shop in decidedly non-Russian Scarborough. And an industrial park at that. Not that I am complaining. Scarborough sorely lacks Central Asian restaurants.
Puff Samosa is best described as a samsa specialist that also runs an industrial choyxona (чойхона; teahouse). It has none of the charms of a traditional choyxona and all the brutal architecture of a pre-fabricated commercial block. I visited when COVID indoor dining restrictions were in effect, so I didn’t get a chance to linger for tea. But the food alone is still worth the trip.
Pandan is one of the wonder plants of Southeast Asian cuisine. Like vanilla in French pastries, pandan imparts a unique fragrance to desserts that cannot be substituted. It also has the nifty effect of turning food into shades of green. It’s great for St Patrick’s Day.
Pandan cakes are not new in Toronto, but My Pandan Cake is the first specialist of them. Specifically, pandan chiffon cakes.
My Pandan Cake
The unofficial national cake of Singapore (and Malaysia)
Pandan chiffon cakes don’t have a cult following in Singapore and Malaysia. They are just there in the background in neighbourhood bakeries. Kind of like cinnamon rolls in Canada. There are certainly connoisseurs and specialty stores out there, but most Singaporeans will propose other desserts like chendol (shaved ice with red beans and jelly in coconut syrup) as the national dessert before considering pandan cakes.
Cake box
It might be because the cake is simple. For the uninitiated, chiffon cakes are extremely light and tall cakes. Their airy texture comes from whipped eggs and avoidance of solid fats like butter. For pandan chiffon cake, add coconut milk and essence of pandan. The latter is derived from straining pandan leaves into a dark green liquid. It tastes like a fragrant grass. The cake is baked in a pan with a tube in the center, resulting in a characteristic hole in the middle. Traditionally, the cake is undecorated and enjoyed plain with coffee or tea.
Even though pandan chiffon cakes don’t get a lot of hype in their home countries, it’s definitely something that visitors notice when they stay for more than a few weeks.
Bamiyan Kabob is one of those rare places that uphold tradition, cater to the masses, and punch well above their weight for culinary skill. Pretty impressive for a casual Afghan fast-food restaurant. Although new competitors like Kabob Guys and Bread & Salt are nipping at its heels, it still manages to have the best price-quality ratio in Toronto.
There are branches around the region but I can only vouch for the original location at Thorncliffe Park. I haven’t been to any of the others.
This restaurant closed on 2023-01-28. Thanks for the memories!
Artisanal Bolivian snacks
Bolivian restaurants are really hard to come by. Even in New York, the city with the most number of cuisines in the world, there are less than 3 Bolivian places. It might be due to the paucity of unique dishes and scarcity of immigrants. Bolivia is one of the poorest countries in South America and not as touristed as its neighbours. So, I was excited when Munay opened up in the Wychwood neighbourhood. It’s probably the first, and definitely the only Bolivian food place in Toronto.
Munay
Munay is a cafe that specializes in salteñas and other pastries. Without question, salteña is the most emblematic dish of Bolivia. The best way to describe it is a soupy empanada. There’s a certain technique in eating it so that the liquid doesn’t spill out.
Toronto has no shortage of good Thai restaurants that stay true to traditional recipes. It’s about time that a stellar Canadian-Thai restaurant came along. Canadian-Thai is what I call food that is not quite Thai. It features local produce and Canadian flavour combinations.
The most un-Canadian thing about Favorites Thai is its name. It should be spelt “Favourites”. Other than that, expect to find uniquely Canadian interpretations of Thai cuisine here. No, I am not talking about pad thai with ketchup.
Favorites Thai, co-located in Sam James Coffee Bar
Sumptuous and immaculate bentos (COVID-19 takeout edition)
Imanishi is a contemporary izakaya (Japanese bar) and one of the top ones in Toronto. The contemporary part comes from its adaption of traditional izakaya foods like karaage (唐揚げ; deep-fried chicken chunks) and goma-ae (胡麻和え; salad with sesame dressing). They mostly stay true to the original but are plated nicer, in tapas format. Serendipitous additions like fried chickpeas and monkfish liver further differentiate Imanishi from old-school izakayas.
Imanishi
Well, that was before COVID-19. When indoor dining was shut down, Imanishi pivoted to donburi (rice bowls) and bento (boxed meals with assorted sides). This was perhaps a blessing in disguise because I like their bento even more than their a la carte options.
A short primer on bento
Bento (弁当) is a compartmentalized meal with rice and at least 3 or more side dishes. It’s designed for takeout. It originated from Japan and has spread across Korea, China, and Taiwan. Southeast Asia also has a similar thing but it isn’t packed as exquisitely. Hawaiian plate lunches can also be considered a form of bento if you squint a little.
For Korean bentos in Toronto, try Hawk and Chick. Taiwanese bentos are more common but I haven’t found a stellar one yet. Chi Chop and ZenQ are convenient if you are downtown. Wei’s Taiwanese for value. And as for Japanese bentos, they are everywhere. Quality varies a lot.
One day I will write an article of how I searched London in vain for delicious traditional British food. Well, I should have just come to Kitchen on Sixth in New Toronto instead. They do all the classics justice and even surpass the originals with their contemporary flair.
Patio of Kitchen On Sixth
Kitchen on Sixth got its name from its original location at 6th Avenue. They’ve since moved two blocks west, to 8th Avenue. They’ve kept the old moniker but cheekily crossed out the word “on” and replaced it with “Kitchen off Sixth” on their store window.
Updated on 2021-10-19 to include Las San Sivar and Pupuseria Delicias Costa del Sol. Rankings have changed.
I tried (almost) all the pupuserias in Toronto so you don’t have to
Ever since Emporium Latino burned down in October 2020, it left a pupusa-shaped hole in my heart. It was where I had pupusas for the first time and I still have fond memories of their comforting masa and spicy curtido. I’ve struggled to find a comparable replacement. When it seemed like Emporium Latino was not destined to re-open, it was time to journey across Toronto for a worthy successor.
Ode to pupusas
Pupusas are emblematic of El Salvador cuisine. In fact, I visited the country solely to eat pupusas. Pupusas are corn flour pancakes stuffed with various ingredients and then toasted on a griddle. The corn flour used is invariably Maseca.
Traditional fillings don’t have a lot of range. It’s any combination of:
Frijoles refritos: mashed and fried beans
Queso: cheese; either mozzarella or queso fresco
Chicharrón: finely-ground pork, fried with tomatoes, onions, and other aromatics
Zucchini
Loroco: flower bud with a grassy taste, unique to El Salvador and some parts of Guatemala
The popular combination of frijoles, queso, and chicharrón has its own name: pupusa revuelta. Also known as pupusa con todo (with everything).
Pupusas are usually accompanied by curtido and salsa de tomate. Curtido is a lightly fermented cabbage and carrot slaw, seasoned with oregano and doused with vinegar. Salsa de tomate translates to tomato sauce, but really, it’s a tomato soup.
Places that sell pupusas are called pupuserias.
What makes a perfect pupusa
For the pupusa itself, it’s form, ingredients, and flavour.
The best pupusas are perfectly round and of uniform thickness. Surfaces are flat with minimal finger indentations. It should be toasted golden with some brown splotches. The dough shouldn’t be too thick like a gordita. But if chefs make it too thin, they run the risk of the filling bursting out of the shell when heated. While some may like the caramelization and burnt bits from leaked fillings, I prefer an intact pupusa. It demonstrates the skill of the chef. Almost all pupusas in this test failed on this front.
The choice of ingredients also reflect a premium pupusa. Queso fresco is more expensive than mozzarella and has a more crumbly texture and stronger taste. Loroco is not a common ingredient in Toronto and some chefs may be stingy with it. For chicharrón, chefs have latitude in the pork cuts and aromatics used. Ingredients should be well-mixed and distributed evenly within the pupusa.
Finally, flavour matters the most. The masa (corn dough) should have a warm corn fragrance. The pupusa should not be shining in oil. For pupusas de queso y loroco (cheese and loroco), the herb should meld with the cheese and add pleasant crunch. For pupusas revueltas, the ratio of meat, beans, and cheese is key. All three should be discernible but also harmonize.
I don’t put much weight to the curtido and salsa de tomate. They play second fiddle and are not something people would buy on their own. Personally, I like a mildly fermented and acidic curtido. The knife skills of the chef will be evident from the consistency and thinness of the chopped vegetables. For salsa de tomate, the best ones are fresh, filled with pulp, and have moderately complex flavours from herbs like onions and bell peppers. Bad ones are one-dimensional and taste like canned tomato soup.
Taste test method
Two pupusas were used for comparison: pupusa revuelta and pupusa de queso y loroco. They are the two most iconic pupusas and require the most skill to balance flavours.
All pupusas were takeout orders and tasted 2 to 6 hours after preparation. Texture suffers when they are not eaten fresh, so I don’t score them on this aspect.
Consistency in shape of the two pupusas were noted.
Pupusas were tasted again the next day after re-heating.
100% Salvadoreño
Cien por ciento Salvadoreño is a modest restaurant nestled in a quiet residential area. You can tell it’s family-run with children playing behind the counter.
100% Salvadoreño
The pupusas had a moderate aroma. They were crisp and mottled black.
Pupusas, curtido, and salsa de tomate from 100% Salvadoreño
With so many awesome smash burger joints opening in the past year, I thought it would be good to spotlight good ol’ burger places that have been in Toronto for decades. Jumbo Burgers is one of my favourites for classic burgers.
Jumbo Burgers
The building and decor hasn’t changed since the 1970s. It sits in a dilapidated location by the railway tracks in The Junction. Just like in the 1970s, it’s cash only unless you order from food apps. One good thing is that it opens early and closes past midnight.
Side profile of Jumbo Burgers. I’ve blurred out boring graffiti tags.
The OG burgers of Toronto
There are about a dozen or so burger restaurants in Toronto that have been around for decades.
Apache Burgers
Burger Shack
Dairy Freeze
Golden Star
Harry’s Drive-In
Johnny’s Hamburgers
Jumbo Burgers
Lick’s Home Burgers
Real McCoy
Shamrock Burgers
Square Boy
They seem to follow a common theme. Interiors that haven’t changed since they first opened (though prices have), diner or bar seating, and a backlit fast-food-style menu above the counter in all-caps letters. As for food, the patties are thick and grilled, the buns are of unknown provenance, and burgers are complete with sad-looking chunks of iceberg lettuce and big slices of tomato. In what might be a Toronto peculiarity, more than a few of these places also make souvlaki (Greek grilled meat skewers). I suppose that since they have a grill, they might as well use it for all sorts of foods.
Where Nicaraguan staples are better than most in Nicaragua
If there were more places like La Bella Managua in Nicaragua, that country would be a foodie destination. My food experiences in Nicaragua aren’t memorable. Everyday food tends to be fast food quality. My triangle rule for restaurants is price, quality, quantity—pick two. Few restaurants excel in all three aspects. Unfortunately, for many developing countries, the market is skewed towards cheap, filling meals.
The first time I tried La Bella Managua, I wasn’t expecting much. The menu reads like a standard Central American list of staples like gallo pinto (rice and beans), fried plantains, grilled steak, and fried fish. I was pleasantly surprised that they managed to make these pedestrian dishes taste so good. It’s not fancy ingredients nor photogenic presentation. Just good old chef techniques.
