Right now the best thing about Toronto is the Ossington strip. From Dundas to Queen it’s a nightly soiree, an urban delight, the sidewalks crowded with people happy to be out, happy to mingle, drink and dine informally. The number of restaurants on the strip has reached such a significant critical mass that each succeeding resto to open attracts more of their kind. Which attracts more people. Which creates what the great urbanist Jane Jacobs called the healthiest possible urban streetscape.
I recently walked College Street from Bathurst to Ossington and found the comparison unfortunate. Why did College not develop into a Restaurant Row of Ossington’s sophistication? Sure, College has its bars and restos. But save for Woodlot and Bar Isabel and Raval, I don’t want to eat at any of them. Perhaps the (initially) low rents on Ossington (compared to College Street’s more rarefied real estate) brought in ambitious young chefs, which then begat more of the same?
The decor is meant to evoke a seaside tavern in Greece.
Mamakas is a bit atypical for the Ossington strip. With 85 seats it’s bigger than the norm. And takes reservations, oh joy. It’s a lovely place, made of white concrete slabs to mimic white stucco of Greece, with marble hightops in the front and scarred thick wooden tables in the back. The only problem is the noise level: High! Best way to avoid it is to beg for either the very front table — on its own in the front window — or the very back table — in a (relatively) quiet nook.
The food is modernized trad Greek, and it’s very fine, more Byblos than Danforth. We love the very lightly smoked herring with veg shavings and preserved lemon; and the big eggplant that’s been baked and hollowed out, its innards mixed with tomato confit and caramelized onions. Spread that on their charcoal grilled crusty bread and inhale with joy. Their trad Greek salad uses impeccable sharp Greek sheep feta.
Roasted eggplant combined with caramelized onions and tomato confit.
But it’s the octopus that makes me faint with desire. This plate I do not want to share. The tentacles have been tenderized and then blasted on the grill to create soft flesh with crispy borders. Fab! Which the lamb chops are not. They’re nicely cooked but I prefer them significantly thicker and pinker.
They do a credible baklava, but my heart belongs to yogurt brûlée. This is ultra-thick Greek yogurt lightly sweetened with honey and rosewater, with the top brûlée’d. Heavenly. Like something you’d get in a seaside tavern on a Greek island in the sunset. Only better.
Mamakas Taverna, 80 Ossington Ave., $110 dinner for two
