The Ottawa Foodie Starter Pack

Every city has one—the unspoken starter kit that says, “I’m in the know.” In Ottawa, it’s a select lineup of dishes, drinks, and dining rooms that you post once, and voilà—you’re officially on the scene. The usual suspects: A kale salad at Supply & Demand,

The ByWard Market Masquerade

Step into the ByWard Market and you could be anywhere in the marketing brochure version of Ottawa. A crush of patios spilling into cobblestones. Buskers strumming the same three songs. Neat rows of peaches and corn arranged for a lens rather than a saucepan. It’s the postcard image: bright,

The Open Kitchen Stare

They told you it was for transparency. A peek behind the curtain. “Guests love seeing the action,” the architect says, while sketching a pass that’s more catwalk than kitchen. The truth? It’s branding. It’s theatre without the union breaks. The sizzle, the flames, the brushed steel—it

The Pre-Meal Lecture

Before the first bite, there is the briefing. Tonight’s bread is not to be touched until the sommelier completes their pairing description. The kitchen requests you consume course three in one bite—but not before they explain the three-day koji cure, the ethical provenance of the duck, and the

Decoding the Chef’s Uniform

White double-breasted jackets once meant something: rank, discipline, heat protection. Now, they’re mostly seen on TV or in hotel banquets. Today’s kitchen uniform is curated, not assigned. Denim aprons. Asymmetrical tunics. Hidden buttons. A tactical chest rig for tweezers and markers. Custom embroidery, not just the restaurant’s

In Defence of Overthinking It

There’s a growing movement—online, at your cousin’s dinner table, and even within the walls of some fine restaurants—that insists food should be simple. Fun. Uncomplicated. “It’s just dinner,” they say, with a shrug that somehow manages to flatten centuries of craft into a casual Tuesday.

The Performance Review

An end-of-year evaluation of Ottawa’s restaurant scene Employee Name: Ottawa Dining Scene Position: Culinary Capital-in-Waiting Review Period: Q4 2024 – Q3 2025 Reviewer: Room Temp, anonymous but observant Key Performance Indicators (KPIs) Innovation Score: 6.2/10 A few brave standouts pushed boundaries, but many played it safe. Microseasonal menus

The False Freshness of a Microgreen

They arrive like clockwork. Boxed. Tender. Trimmed. Little vegetal trophies—too delicate to wash, too pristine to question. They don’t taste like anything. They rarely belong. But they look fresh, and that’s what matters. The pea tendril atop the charred beef. The radish sprout on the panna cotta.

Post-Tweezer

What plating looks like now, and what that says about us. There was a time—recent, yet already sepia-toned—when the future of fine dining fit between the teeth of a pair of tweezers. Tiny herbs arranged just so. Microdot sauces. Shells of vegetables too perfect to have touched a

The Magic Word is No

How boundaries became the new hospitality Somewhere along the way, hospitality got confused with servitude. Menus got longer, substitutions got looser, and the word “yes” became gospel. Gluten-free, sauce on the side, extra course, no onions, more truffles, less truffles, off-menu pairings, influencer tasting menus, pescatarian plus pork but only

The Restaurants That Made Other Restaurants

Before a kitchen makes food, it makes cooks. Every city has its quiet giants—the restaurants that don’t just serve meals, but produce the next generation of chefs, owners, and visionaries. Ottawa’s culinary family tree is surprisingly dense, if you look closely. A place like Domus didn’t

No One’s Cooking With Sound Anymore

You used to hear it before you smelled it. The first hiss of butter hitting steel. The sharp crackle of skin meeting flame. The low bubble of something being coaxed, slowly, into flavour. Cooking had a sound. And it wasn’t just noise—it was a signal. A promise. Something’

Two Stars in a One-Star Town

There’s a strange gravity in cities like Ottawa. A quiet, conservative pull that encourages most things—restaurants included—to stay in orbit. Safe. Familiar. Symmetrical. Here, ambition stands out like an overdressed guest at a backyard barbecue. A dish too precise. A dining room too moody. A menu without

Still Life With Check Drop

The final course has cleared. The candle flickers lower. Your glass is empty by design. You sit, suspended in the hush between the last bite and the first sigh. A perfect silence. And then— it arrives. Not dessert. Not thanks. The check. Tucked inside leather. Or faux leather. Or a

The Dishes That Raised a Generation

Before it was a scene, it was a handful of kitchens. Ottawa’s dining culture wasn’t born in a headline. It grew slowly — in quiet dining rooms, focused kitchens, and handwritten menus. It was built by restaurants that taught a city how to eat differently, not by trend, but

The Collaboration Spiral

You bring your tweezers. I’ll bring mine. What started as a creative collision between two chefs has turned into a marketing reflex. Chef collabs used to mean something rare: two minds, two styles, one night only. Now it’s an Ottawa default—events stacked like pancakes, with the same

The Word That Should Have Stayed in the Kitchen

“Elevated” has had a good run. Let’s bury it gently. Once, it meant something. “Elevated” suggested a thoughtful refinement of something humble—fried chicken reimagined, a Caesar salad taken somewhere new. Now it’s just seasoning for a menu description, a fog machine for food writing. Everything is “elevated.

No One Knows How to Talk About Food Anymore

Everything is amazing. Every bite is so good. Every dish is literally unreal. We’re drowning in food talk that says absolutely nothing. In a city full of chefs working themselves to the bone to express something—about place, about memory, about skill—most of what gets said in return

The Restaurant That's Not For You

Ottawa is a city that expects accommodation. No onions, dressing on the side, gluten-free but still crispy please. Every table is a polite negotiation. Every menu a buffet of options disguised as a single offering. So when a restaurant opens with rules — no substitutions, no walk-ins, no decaf — it rattles

Ottawa Doesn't Need to Catch Up

Ottawa loves to compare itself to Toronto and Montreal. Usually, it’s an apology. A shrug. A joke we make before anyone else can. But maybe we’re missing the real story. Because here’s the thing: we have something they don’t. We’re not chasing clout. We’re

One Course Conversations: Chef Resa Solomon St. Lewis, Baccanalle

Jerk chicken is often the default when people think of Caribbean food in Canada. How do you respond to that? RS: Jerk chicken is certainly a signature dish when people think of the Caribbean in Canada. No surprise, as Jamaica is one of the biggest Caribbean countries, the largest source

Keep Your Hands Off My Dinner

There’s a certain kind of menu language that feels more like a boundary violation than a description. You’re reading about a dish — maybe it’s crudo, or a tartare — and the text tells you it was “gently pressed by hand.” Or “crushed with the warmth of the chef’

The Skin Contact Situation

How orange wine became the personality trait of every new restaurant in town. At some point in the last two years, every new restaurant in Ottawa decided it needed at least three things: hand-thrown ceramic plates, a playlist with at least one Khruangbin track, and a by-the-glass orange wine. Not

We Regret to Inform You the Chef Has Opinions

The food is fine. But first — a paragraph. Or three. About the chef’s journey. Their philosophy. Their decision to use only one varietal of ancient grain milled at dawn by a specific friend. Their rejection of dairy. Their complicated relationship with forks. You came for dinner. You got a

The Menu That Won't Shut Up

You sit down, open the menu, and immediately need a break. Every dish is an essay. Every ingredient has a backstory. There’s smoked-this, foraged-that, a foam of something you didn’t ask for, and a reference to a season you’re not currently in. Menus used to be quiet.