There is nothing like knowing you’ll never be able to eat at a beloved restaurant again to remind you to savour each and every meal.
Over the years, so many more beloved haunts have disappeared, leaving behind the pain of never eating their delicious fare again. Poutini’s. Hopgood’s Food Liner. Montgomery’s. Grant van Gameren’s pandemic-era Detroit-style pizza and wings joint, Gianna’s. More recently, Kiss My Pans, Famiglia Baldassarre and Nami.
Foodies love reminiscing wistfully about their most-missed eateries, and we at the Toronto Star are no different. Here, staffers share the restaurants they’ve loved and lost — and we want to hear from you, too. What Toronto restaurant do you miss the most, and why? Please share in the comments below.
Oddfellows at Queen and Shaw
OddFellows on West Queen West was only open for three short years, from 2008 to 2011, but 15 years later, I still think of it often. I had my 27th birthday party there in 2009, my friends lined up along the 24-seat communal table, tucking into Matty Matheson’s Coke-braised ribs and spelling out words with the letter magnets on the wall behind us. The food was good, but I mostly remember how that restaurant’s impeccable vibes made me feel: cool, young, fun. Free. —Briony Smith, life and culture reporter
The Whippoorwill at Bloor and Lansdowne
“It’s been 10 years since the Whippoorwill closed, but I can still close my eyes and transport directly back to a red booth in that cozy long, narrow space at Bloor and Lansdowne. Lit with fairy lights and decorated with thrift-store trinkets and mismatched crockery, Whippoorwill felt easy and low-key, but the food and cocktails weren’t messing around: Their roasted cauliflower was part of the great roasted cauliflower boom of the 2010s, a very fine example with caramelized onions, almonds, fresh herbs and juicy sultanas. Brunch was hearty and the burger was stacked. It’s rare to feel so comfy in a restaurant these days, what with all the TikTok lineups and condo-lobby settings, and I miss that so.” —Rani Sheen, deputy editor, living and culture
Mmmuffins, various food-court locations
“Mmmuffins knew the muffin top is the best part. It’s why their muffins looked like mushrooms: the top bloomed majestically out of the tins to develop a crisp edge that was just two steps past golden brown to yield a satisfying snap. During the golden era of malls, Mmmuffins was a food-court staple. Sure, it’s essentially cake, but in the ‘90s we blissfully deluded ourselves to believe muffins were healthier. Perhaps it’s best the last Mmmuffins in Toronto closed at the start of the pandemic; its menu of cranberry and carrot muffins remain uncorrupted by viral food trends. My heart would break if I saw them come out with a protein Dubai chocolate matcha muffin.” —Karon Liu, food reporter
Judy Cuisine in Richmond Hill
“Nobody knew exactly who Judy was. As a kid, I imagined that she was somehow related to my maternal grandmother back in Singapore, who was also named Judy and once ran a restaurant. But no matter: this quirky and terribly gaudy establishment (think blingy red and gold lanterns everywhere) served up some of the most delectable Cantonese fare on this side of the Pacific — including its signature sing ping chicken, with juicy morsels of meat and slippery yellow skin, all accompanied by a tangy, ginger-scallion dipping sauce. —Joshua Chong, senior arts critic
Mars Village Eatery at Yonge and Wellesley
“I was walking down Yonge Street with a friend recently, about to point out one of my new favourite noodle joints only to find it had disappeared. There was no goodbye, just a shuttered storefront, a lopsided For Lease sign in place of the cheerfully garish pictures of the noodle dishes on offer. I’ll miss their tomato-and-egg noodle soup, with silky eggs and a broth so deeply spicy that its elderly owners initially refused to believe I could handle it. (I’ll miss the sweet, slightly wary proprietors, too.) Mars Village was often nearly empty and looking a little worse for wear, and it may not have had the decades-long run that makes for grand Toronto restaurant nostalgia, but it had become a favourite of mine.” —Mir Osborne, team editor, living and culture
