The quirky wraparound shape of the Black Skirt’s floor plan, plus the fresh, creative flower arrangements and comfy throw pillows placed here and there, combine to give this southern Italian eatery a homey, cozy feel. Too bad, then, about the stiff and serious attitudes of most of the staff, who seem only to stare and glare menacingly from the kitchen and from behind the open bar. We almost feel guilty, as if intruding.
We choose to turn our attentions to the room’s more pleasant features. The colour palette doesn’t venture far from a spectrum of cream and black hues—found in the chairs and stools, the tables and floor, the artwork and walls, the leathery banquette and even the menu. Strategically placed mirrors bounce around sunshiny reflections. The smells of pressed garlic and fresh basil make the mouth water.
Radio top 40 music pumps out from the speakers, but it’s nearly drowned out by the droning roar of a kitchen fan—the only benefit to this being that the noise also muffles the squeals and squawks of tots for neighbouring tables.
More than half the menu’s pages are dedicated to cocktails, mocktails, bubbly, wine and shooters—a telling balance of the restaurant’s focus. Elsewhere, other pages list rustic insalate, antipasti, sandwiches, and pastas—and nothing tops out over twenty dollars. Impressive.
“Daily specials” and the soup of the day are neither offered nor explained.
A wild mushroom saute of oysters, portobellos and criminis, plus diced onion, top four thin slices of crusty toasted baguette in one antipasti plate ($13). Pads of brie, almost melting but not quite, rest atop. This earthy, just-assembled starter sets high standards for plates to come.
Sadly, disappointment follows with ciccio ($14), a recommended dish from one of a list of nine pastas. Meat-filled ravioli may be pan-fried for crispness before being plated, but they’re drowning in brown butter. Parmigiano reggiano intensifies the saltiness. Whole sage leaves offer flavour contrast but can’t lighten the load.
We should have listened to our inner child and opted instead for one of three spaghettis (with basic tomato sauce, with tomato sauce, veal, meatballs and sausage, with fresh ricotta and parmigiano reggiano). Little ones love slurping and twirling—although we’re not sure how splatters of red sauce on furniture would have gone over in this room of darks and lights.
Black Skirt doesn’t strive to be a family-focused lunch spot, but in a pinch while pounding the pavement near Yonge and Bloor, it could serve to sate.
https://www.blackskirtrestaurant.com/
3 Charles Street Eastโจ โจ(416) 935-0240