The best things I ate and drank in 2024

In a lot of ways, 2024 was the best year of my life. I accomplished some pretty great things, met amazing people, and, of course, ate a lot of great food.

One thing I did not do a ton of is travel out of the country, which is a bit odd for me as I have been very lucky to see a lot of the world through my years. All of my other year-end lists include some reference to Australia, or Spain, or something like that. This one is entirely Canadian. Which means it may be the most achievable list for folks to go try themselves. I hope you do.

Without any more dilly dallying, here are the best things I ate in 2024.

Prime rib burger, The Comrade, Toronto

Everyone has three types of burgers they talk about: the true favorite, the underrated gem, and the one that didn’t live up to the hype. Comrade’s burger is definitely the second, and very close to becoming the first as well.

As far as burgers go, it’s no frills, but it has the two things every great burger needs: pickles and a special sauce. If a burger does not have this, it will not be my favorite. Maybe it will be yours, but not mine. Comrade’s also has truly caramelized onions (not just severely fried onions), and it is made with prime rib so it’s quite fatty and juicy, alongside tangy and sour and sweet.

*The Comrade’s excellent prime rib burger*

Also - it’s not a god damn smash burger. Smash burgers are the new dispensaries. Please stop joking about the amount of weed and start joking about the amount of crispy, lacy-edge burger patties. Of course they’re delicious, but stop opening up storefronts.

I’ve eaten a lot of burgers in the city. Rarely do I bite into a new one and find it immediately contending for best in the city. Comrade did just that.

Corn kakiage, Imanishi, Toronto

I could go on and on about Imanishi’s kakiage (fried veggies, as opposed to karaage, which is fried meat or fish) but I think three words will suffice: corn funnel cake.

That should be enough people!!! What else do you need? Not everything needs to be stated elegantly. Okay fine. This lightly battered, lightly fried sweet corn came out resembling what probably happens if someone drops a piece of a coral reef into a Minnesota state fair fryer. Cragged edges, crispy tufts, pieces of crackled batter falling gently to the wayside as if we’re witnessing the most delicious landslide in existence. There is no sauce needed - just a little bit of salt. The kakiage snaps apart like a honeycomb, revealing small morsels of corn within its delicate interior.

Order two of these. Even if it’s just you and a date, order two. I wish I did. I’ll never make that mistake again.

Breakfast sandwich, Sleepy Pete’s, Toronto

Breakfast sandwiches are a lot like burgers, in the sense that a lot of places have one that shouldn’t, every person has a favorite, and everyone will still get a McDonald’s one when hungover.

Different from burgers though, is that a bad breakfast sandwich can definitely be bad. Burgers, when bad, are still pretty good. Sorta like pizza. But when you mess up eggs, it shows.

*Sausage breakfast sandwich + fingerling potatoes at Sleepy Pete’s*

Sleepy Pete’s does not mess up. This bonafide Kensington Market closet is still fairly new, but hardly slept on. True to Kensington fashion, it is a hole in the wall, wafting the smell of freshly baked in-house biscuits out its doors every morning for its breakfast offerings. Make sure you get the jalapeno biscuit, and then go with the chicken sausage (you won’t miss the pork) over the bacon. It is spiced perfectly and comes fused together by an essential Kraft single and hot honey. Don’t come at me with anti-Kraft Single slander - save it for Ramsay. Try the fingerling potatoes too, as they’re a nice hashbrown alternative.

Even though, by my own standards, Sleepy Pete’s is missing a key breakfast sandwich ingredient (pickles!), this is still my favorite brekky-between-bread going. Here’s a tip: go in the summer, have someone order inside, and another person wait to snatch one of the three tables outside. It’s prime people watching, with a prime breakfast. Pure Kensington magic.

Tartelette de petits pois, O-Thym, Montreal

Every once in a while, you stumble upon a dish that elevates a backburner ingredient to become the star of a show. Only then are we reminded that food is art, and recognize exactly what great chefs are capable of. Take the simple pea, something often included among other frozen, soggy vegetables, or as a sad side to a meat dish, gently brushed away until your mom yells “eat your peas!” Or maybe as a mushy accompaniment to fish and chips, which I’ll admit are delish.

Not at O-Thym. This BYOB Montreal locale rotates seasonal Quebecois ingredients, resulting in an unexacting pea tartlet served cold, which leaves a lot to the imagination. Once it came, it looked beyond what I could even fathom: Bright, multi-shade green peas crowded atop a wispy tart, dotted with lobster mushroom and kohlrabi, crowned with a significant dollop of goat cheese.

Upon first bite, I was reminded what peas actually taste like. Crispy, fresh, vegetal, bursting with earthy herbaceous brightness. All this from the thing that stupid princess complained about. It was the ideal veggie dish, a buffer in that perfect space between warm ups and title fight. It cut through fatty main dishes, but each bite of the tart had enough je-ne-pea-quoi to stand alone amongst the “will they, won’t they” dance of the little bites/big bites menu segregation.

This was seasonal and you probably can’t find it on their menu again, but it was a great representation of Montreal dining at its best and the prime reason I’ll recommend this spot to anyone. Go across the street before your reservation, grab a couple $20 bottles of wine, and have yourself a time at O-Thym.

Elote (buck) wheat, Lake Inez, Toronto

Well, well. Lake Inez rears its delicious head again. Who’d have thought that a dish from my favorite restaurant in the city would make this list yet again? Couldn’t be me. The latest feature to grace my year-end review is…bread, from their mystery patio. Yeah, my favorite food from my favorite spot’s most enjoyable dining experience. Colour me predictable.

Served as an amuse bouche before a six-course tasting menu, this set my friends and I up for a great night. Freshly baked focaccia with a touch of buckwheat, topped with a whipped ricotta/mayo mixture, charred corn, and cotija cheese. Yes, it’s just elote on fresh bread. There is literally no one on earth who could not enjoy this. I could tell you that the bread was perfectly springy, not too heavy oil-wise, and well salted, with the cheese adding a nice refreshing balance to the sweet charred corn, but what good would that do? It’s cheese and corn on bread.

*Focaccia with elote corn at Lake Inez’s mystery patio*

This is one of those things that seems like a cheat code for restaurants. As a concept, this dish seems a bit basic, but it’s elevated through preparation, presentation, and ingredients. If I bought these ingredients from No Frills and slapped them together, it would taste amazing. My friends would tell me I’m an amazing cook. When Lake Inez sources them from superb local growers then bakes the bread in-house, it’s legendary and ends up on my list. More places need to stop acting like low hanging fruit isn’t fucking delicious. That’s why Lake Inez features things like Chinese/American chicken balls, fried potatoes topped with Miss Vickies, and similar ilk. Go ahead and be inventive, but have some fucking fun too.

The Lambo, Lambo x Burger Drops, Toronto

Enter scene: Pan over the Toronto skyline, zooming in on the Nathan Phillips skating rink as snow twinkles and hangs in the air. A rugged 20-something carpenter is skating around in his Levi’s and Carhartt jacket, minding his own business. Out of nowhere, a cute family-oriented Italian girl bumps into him, sending them both careening to the ground. They help each other up, then laugh and chat, eventually exchanging numbers. The no-nonsense guy falls for the loyal, comforting girl. The title screen flashes: The Lambo Melt.

I imagine that if we were to anthropomorphize sandwiches, this is the meat cute that would result in Lambo’s deli and Burger Drops creating the Lambo. The former is among the best deli sandos in the city; the latter, arguably the best smash burger in the city. Together, they soul melded to create a hoagie melt with smashed patties, diced onion, sharp provolone sauce, blistered long hot peppers, garlic ramp mayo, and spicy ketchup relish, all tucked into a sesame Vienna roll.

*The Lambo patty melt from Lambo’s and Burger Drops*

At the end of the day, it’s sort of like the best version of a chopped cheese this city has had the pleasure of tasting. Honestly, I had incredibly high hopes for this sandwich given the hype around both these places (and that it was a one day pop-up), and it didn’t quite live up to it. Still, the fact it made this list is a testament to how great both sides are, and how much I wish we had good chopped cheese’s here in the city. I hope it becomes a recurring event and we see it next summer.

Basque cake with hot sherry cream, Bar Isabel, Toronto

Talk with me at any particular point and I may say this is the best dessert in the entire city. I have an ongoing list of what else may make it (sticky ginger cake at Union, taro toast at Imanishi, ice cream from Ruru’s, etc.), but right now, this is mine. I don’t order dessert out at restaurants very often, but I stand by my selections when I do.

Bar Isabel’s basque cake is simple from start to finish. A round, almost shortbread-esque cake with a hint of vanilla and almond is brought, hot, to the table. A server then affectionately pours an entire carafe of hot sherry cream, enveloping the entire cake in the sweet warm embrace of slightly alcoholic dairy.

*The Basque cake doused in sherry cream from Bar Isabel*

You must eat it fast. As if it would be eaten any other way. This is not a dessert to dawdle over the last piece. I, gentle reader, even faux paux’d by stopping to take a photo. If you’re bringing a date to Bar Isabel and manage to make it to dessert, know this: just eat the last piece instead of waiting for your partner to offer it or being cute. Then point them to this article. They'll get it. Letting this get cold is a sin akin to eating another man’s bag fries or snagging the last fully loaded nacho from a “for the table” order. Basque cake waits for no one.

Pumpkin pie pudding - Rosie’s Burgers, Toronto

Let’s start with the facts: I don’t really like pumpkin pie. It’s smack dab at the bottom of my “pie tier” list, along with key lime and lemon meringue. Begrudgingly, I will continue to eat it during holiday dinners as I beg for literally any other pie to show its face. Oddly, I do really like the idea of pumpkin spice in other forms. I don’t drink them a lot, but a nice PSL is a revelation during a long crispy fall walk. Something about nutmeg and crunching leaves feels right in 13 degree weather.

Enter Rosie’s Burgers, a local Toronto spot with a few locations that features a banana pudding so good that I almost included last year. It’s a direct ripoff of NYC’s Magnolia Bakery, but who gives a shit, right? As long as I get my pudding, we’re square. And if we could copyright food, life would literally not be worth living. So, in October, Rosie’s got with the season and introduced a pumpkin pie pudding. I knew I had to try it. Oh boy.

*Pumpkin pie puddin’ deliciousness at the Queen Street Rosie’s*

Enter pumpkin custard pudding layered and topped with gingery, cinnamonny cookie crumbles. Altogether it’s kinda basic (sort of like PSLs!? Easy joke), but when combined, it is the pinnacle of fall desserts. It’s rich and diffident without being heavy, so you can eat just a few spoonfuls and feel like you’ve tasted something reminiscent of the pumpkin pie God probably brought to friendsgivings with Petey, Johnny, Thad and the rest of the boys. Except it’s pudding and it doesn’t suck and people don't hide it with a mountain of whipped cream.

Oh, and it’s like $11 for a pint, which will comfortably provide dessert for 3-4 people. That’s literally less than four “dream” cookies from Tim’s. Please bring this back next fall Rosie. Save me from another Costco pumpkin pie. Save my soul. Save our souls.

Rhubarb fritter - Ba Noi bakery, Toronto

If you know me, you know my love for a fritter. “Like a moth to light” and “like Max to fritters” can be used interchangeably. I’ve tried a lot around the city and adjoining countryside - mostly apple. No slander here, as apple is the OG and I’ll never say no. But, like, guys, c’mon. We have the technology to fritterize more fruit. Why don’t we use it? Even Tim’s used to have a blueberry fritter.

Ba Noi is among the leaders in modern fritter theory. Arguably my favorite bakery in the entire city (see last year’s butter tart entry), this spot has seasonal goodies that hit the mark every time, including things like thanksgiving dinner galettes. But when rhubarb season came around, and I saw a rhubarb fritter on the list? Smitten.

*Rhubarb fritter with a rhubarb lemon glaze from Ba Noi*

Remember that “pie tier” list I mentioned above? My number one is strawberry rhubarb. Not enough people feature rhubarb. My mom had a rhubarb bush in our garden growing up and would always harvest it, so little stalks of cut up rhubarb were a frequent sighting in our freezer and inspiration for my adoration.

Ba Noi’s rhubarb fritter is simple and lovely. Chunks of lightly stewed rhubarb, fried in dough, with a rhubarb lemon glaze. Rhubarb does not have a super distinct taste, as many people associate it with “tart.” But, after a chat with the baker, I learned Ba Noi uses forced rhubarb, which is grown in pots away from the sun, resulting in less sourness. You get more vegetal green apple flavors, which is nice with the lemon and to cut through the carnival fried dough vibes. Crunchy, sour, sweet, beautiful. This is another seasonal entry, go follow Ba Noi on IG and get this when you can.

Tschida Himmel Auf Erden wine, Lake Inez, Toronto

One beverage had to make the list, or else it wouldn’t be the best things I ate and drank, would it!? As I have stated a few times before, I do not know much about wine. But, as Pierre Seri said, “You can’t really describe wine. You can only remember it.”

At Lake Inez, where we had this bottle, life was good and worries were few. The wine was a bit tropical, a bit herby, juicy as hell and just like the well wishes it endowed, something you wished you’d never meet the bottom of. It felt like that lull between finishing Christmas dinner and waiting for desserts to come out. Happy, bursting, ecstatic for more, but at peace if it all comes crashing down. This wine kept the night going, first as a centrepiece for discussion then gracefully settling aside for better things to come. Maybe it was the company, or the food, or the owner coming over and gushing about this particular bottle, but it all just felt right. This particular two top adorned by this wine was the whole world and all that ever mattered and all that ever might.

Okay okay enough. The Austrian winemaker responsible for this wine says it is hand harvested, destemmed, crushed by foot, and aged for one year then bottled without fining or filtering and adding sulfur. Tasting notes: Juicy, medium-bodied, white peach fruit, mineral-lemon finish, kumquat residue in the aftertaste, salty, a lively, light-footed food companion. You know what? I trust them. There probably was some kumquat aftertaste. But I remember my version better.