THE SINGLE, marble-sized pomme soufflé has crisp walls as thin as paper, and is held in place on the plate with a dab of lemon gel so that it will not roll and topple and spill its precious topping of glistening, black Venetian caviar.

Beside it, there’s a cube of cured foie gras rolled in crunchy rice pearls, as well as a bite-sized sandwich of foie gras terrine spiked with smoky bourbon. But we start instead with the tiny gougère, the ideal match for our first sip of champers. That’s right: these are merely the amuse-gueules, to set the mood for the 10 courses to come. Yes, 10. Two years after opening, Alo is grander and more ambitious than ever, yet, even still, its grasp never exceeds its reach. Chef-owner Patrick Kriss’s kitchen team, led by chef de cuisine Nick Bentley, is cooking with the same attention-grabbing finesse with which it started—but displaying greater range. The service is a lesson in discreet perfection. Sommelier Christopher Sealy’s wine list is growing, and his resulting by-the-glass recommendations are more imaginative. This transporting culinary experience begins with a slow ride in an ordinary elevator. You emerge into a third-floor oasis of a chic bar and lounge.

Stop for a great cocktail (thank you, John Bunner) or carry on, past the open kitchen and tasting bar to the adjoining, elegant dining room. There, leave as many choices as possible to the ultra-knowledgeable staff; next thing you know, you’ll be sipping on crisp Vouvray (2016, Bernard Fouquet) while eating firm slices of creamy, sweet raw scallop from Hokkaido, brightened with the juice of sudachi lime and a little dried grape for texture. The food is French, but its accent and lightness increasingly Japanese. Imagine barely viscous scrambled egg, enriched with threads of crab and a brunoise of cured lomo Ibérico de bellota pork, topped with a lobe of the finest uni (yes, Hokkaido again). And belly of suckling pig, its crackling thin and crisp and perfect, with peanut sauce, then fatty deckle of rib eye, grilled on binchotan charcoal, sauced three ways. Desserts are light, imaginative and close to perfection—just like everything else here.

ADDRESS:
163 Spadina avenue, third floor, Toronto, Ontario
alorestaurant.com
416-260-2222

HOURS:
Dinner
Tuesday to Saturday
5:30 PM until 10:30 PM

The Bar At Alo
Tuesday to Saturday
5:00 PM until 1:00 AM

Source: https://canadas100best.com/no-1-alo-2018/

Alobar Yorkville is midtown’s more approachable answer to Patrick Kriss’s high-stakes original.

“Anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours,” says our cheerful blond server with the bow tie. With waits that long, we gloat over scoring a Spadina Avenue-adjacent booth just before dinner hour. Still, it’s worth investing the time to see what Patrick Kriss, Toronto’s most lauded chef, can do in a diner. Especially when it’s just downstairs from his fine-dining haven Alo, which nabbed second place on this list two years ago.

Sipping low-alcohol Dalmatian spritzes – Tanqueray and Aperol capped with cream and pineapple, the more exotic cousin of the G&T – we feel like we’re cruising the Adriatic coast in a luxury mid-century-modern railway car. There’s a leather-clad, barrel-shaped ceiling, penny-tile floor and retro swivel counter stools pulled together by Commute, the design team behind Alo. A maître d’ obsessively cleans the glass front door every time someone lays a hand on it.

Behind the bar, one of the fastest, sharpest shakers in the city is giving a clinic, while Tommy Stewart comes on the stereo, laying down a funky beat with “Get Off Your Seats.” We’d rather not – we’re deep into the wedge salad that glamourizes iceberg lettuce with thin slices of avocado and a shower of crunchy wild rice, pumpkin seeds and soybeans.

There’s lamb roast, crispy and fatty, dotted with seared shishito pepper and a bright parsley-and-shallot chimichurri. There are torched scallops and fluffy puréed peas with wasabi, which blankets our tongue with creamy comfort, then gooses it with heat. For dessert, it’s the pineapple sundae all the way, with brown butter cake, rum and a feuilletine crunch. Every great city needs a place where a star chef takes a working holiday and cooks the food he or she really wants to eat. For Toronto, Aloette is it.

Source: Canada’s Best New Restaurants

Source: The Star