I don't often find myself driving into one of Ottawa's older neighbourhoods expecting to eat inside a convenience store. Usually Eat the Strip has us chasing hidden gems in far-flung suburban plazas, so it was a nice change of pace to discover one tucked into a residential pocket where people walk over for a loaf of bread, stop in after work and catch up with their neighbours. Those little everyday interactions are part of what makes a community feel like home, and Green Maple Mart & Kitchen has quickly become one of those places.

Long-time Eat the Strip readers may remember Red Rock Convenience, which occupied this address before. One reader wrote to me about it back in 2024, but somehow I never made it. By the time I finally walked through the door on a Monday afternoon just after 4 p.m., the Mechanicsville-based business had changed hands and a new chapter had begun.

The convenience store looks much like you'd expect at first glance. Shelves are stocked with everyday essentials, while a tiled floor leads to a wooden counter on the left. Sahar Dehghan greets me as I walk in, and beside the counter sits a round wooden table with four chairs. This is clearly a neighbourhood spot built around takeout, although there's just enough room for a quick meal before heading home. I imagine the regulars know exactly what they're coming for, while the occasional office worker from nearby Tunney's Pasture probably wanders over looking for lunch.

It's exactly the sort of place that gets me excited. There's something about convenience stores and small grocery shops with hot food counters that almost always leads to honest, blue-collar cooking at prices that are hard to beat.

Owner Ali Dehghan introduces himself and tells me he and his wife, Sahar, took over the business about six months ago. Before moving to Canada, he owned a fast-food restaurant in northern Iran near the Caspian Sea, in the province of Mazandaran. Although the couple originally hoped to serve more traditional Iranian dishes, they quickly realized the local market leaned more toward familiar fare.

"We love to serve the Iranian food, but we mix the Iranian food with international."

The menu reflects that philosophy. Alongside pizzas, burgers and sandwiches sits one item that immediately caught my attention before I even arrived: the spicy bandari baguette. I had spotted it while reading Google reviews and knew I had to try it. Ali seemed pleasantly surprised that someone who wasn't Iranian had come specifically looking for it.

While I waited, customers drifted in and out of the store. Some grabbed milk, eggs or bread. Others stopped by simply to chat. One regular updated Ali on his day while another was asked how his blood pressure had been. Ali laughed as he pointed out another customer who, he joked, was probably his most frequent visitor. It quickly became obvious this wasn't just a convenience store. It was the kind of neighbourhood gathering place where people stop in to catch up with familiar faces as much as they do to pick up groceries.

After about 10 minutes, my sandwich arrived.

![Green Maple Mart's spicy bandari is packed with sausage, fresh vegetables and served on homemade sesame bread baked by Sahar](/uploads/img_2292.jpeg "Green Maple Mart spicy bandari baguette ")

It was substantial, wrapped around a soft sesame-topped loaf that I would later learn is baked fresh by Sahar every day or two. Ali confirmed they make the bread themselves, and that kind of extra effort immediately shows.

Sosis bandari is one of Iran's best-known street foods, traditionally made by sautéing sliced sausages with onions, tomato paste and a generous blend of spices before finishing everything with plenty of heat. Green Maple Mart's version stays true to those bold flavours while piling on fresh tomatoes, crunchy pickles, carrots and an abundance of raw onions. The spicy sauce reminded me of the flavours found in Indian achar, with its combination of preserved vegetables, warming spices and chilli oil. Every bite delivered sweetness from the onions, acidity from the pickles, gentle smokiness from the sausage and enough heat to keep me reaching for another mouthful.

Outside, neighbours wandered past walking their dogs while others popped in to pick up a few groceries for dinner. Meanwhile, I was happily working up a sweat from the sandwich's spice level.

About halfway through my meal, Ali stopped by carrying a bottle of Frank's RedHot.

"If the sandwich is not spicy enough," he said, I could always add some.

Judging by the grin on his face, he already suspected I wouldn't need it.

I didn't.

Before leaving, I ordered one more item to take home. Danielle had been working all day, so I figured she deserved dinner too. I settled on the Newfoundland Breakfast Burger, one of 13 burgers on the menu named after Canada's provinces and territories, a fun touch of Canadiana. It came topped with lettuce, tomato, cheddar, bacon, red onion and, best of all, a fried egg.

Back home, we quickly understood why the burgers have developed a following. The homemade beef patty was juicy, the vegetables were fresh and crisp, and the fried egg tied everything together beautifully. Ali mentioned he'd love to start baking his own burger buns as well, but doing so would force him to raise prices. For now, he's focused on keeping meals affordable.

That affordability is important to him. He proudly told me that everything they serve is food he and his wife eat themselves at home, and that their children eat the same.

The couple has no shortage of plans for the future. Ali hopes to install a display freezer stocked with ready-made meals while using the existing display of fresh fruits and vegetables to expand into made-to-order smoothies. Eventually, he'd like to bring in more Iranian staff and introduce a larger selection of traditional Iranian dishes. His long-term dream is even bigger.

"I love this work. It's my dream."

That dream, he says, is to one day operate a large restaurant downtown.

He also credits much of his motivation to the people who walk through his doors every day.

"I love to have friendly behaviour with my customers because my customers support me and I have to support them."

Even the store's name came together unexpectedly. While he was driving, his lawyer called to ask what he wanted to name the business. "Green Maple Mart" simply popped into his head, and the name stuck.

For now, though, he's focused on steadily improving what he has, expanding the kitchen when possible and continuing to build relationships with the neighbours who have already embraced the business.

Our bandari sandwich came to just over $10, which feels like remarkable value considering its size and the care that goes into making it. The burger, at around $13, was equally satisfying. But if you're making the trip, order the bandari. Ottawa's food scene gets more interesting every time someone brings a little piece of home to our city, and places like Green Maple Mart & Kitchen remind me exactly why I started Eat the Strip in the first place. Sometimes all it takes is following a reader's tip into a neighbourhood convenience store to find a sandwich you'll be thinking about long after you've gone home.

Green Maple Mart & Kitchen

On a warm July Wednesday, I pointed the car south towards Barrhaven. Aroy Thai was first recommended to us by a reader back in 2023. I'm slightly ashamed to admit it took nearly three years to finally make the trip, but better late than never.

The drive itself takes you through stretches of fields and some surprisingly rural corners of south Ottawa before eventually bringing you to an unassuming Quickie gas station on Rideaucrest Drive. Before leaving home, I'd done a little homework and phoned in an order for two dishes that always make my shortlist at any Thai restaurant: pad kee mao, better known as drunken noodles, and gaeng khiao wan, or Thai green curry. When the woman taking my order asked how spicy I'd like it, I told her to make it the way she likes it or the way it's commonly served in Thailand.

That woman turned out to be owner Suphatra Khongton.

When readers first told us about Aroy Thai, one thing kept coming up alongside the food: how incredibly kind the woman running the place was. They weren't exaggerating.

![Fresh basil, tender chicken and enough spice to keep the napkins close by](/uploads/img_2240.jpeg "Aroy Thai pad kee mao")

For our first Ottawa feature in almost a year, it somehow felt fitting that we'd return with a proper Eat the Strip hidden gem. Walking into the Quickie, there's a small sign tucked away at the back pointing you towards Aroy Thai. Suphatra later told me that "Aroy" simply means "tasty" in Thai. Hidden away inside the back of a convenience store, my hidden gem radar immediately started going off. This felt like the real deal.

Aroy Thai is strictly takeout. Twenty minutes after placing my order, everything was hot, fresh and ready to go. The two dishes came to around $38. Before I'd even introduced myself or mentioned the blog, Suphatra handed over my bag with two complimentary spring rolls tucked inside. A smiley face had been drawn on the packaging. It was a small gesture, but one that said plenty about the person running the place.

Suphatra greeted me with an enormous smile. When I explained the blog and why I was there, her face lit up with the kind of genuine excitement that makes interviews easy. Those bright, sparkly eyes somehow disguise the reality that she's in the restaurant from 7 a.m. until around 9:30 p.m. most days, running almost the entire operation herself.

She took over Aroy Thai about six years ago from a friend who had originally encouraged her to move to Canada in 2009. Back in Bangkok, Suphatra worked as a chef preparing Thai street food at a local market before her friend suggested making the move overseas to work alongside her.

Landing in Canada wasn't exactly easy.

"I didn't know where to go. I never left Thailand before," she says, miming arriving with two suitcases and not knowing a single person.

Cooking, however, had always been second nature.

"I like to cook because my mother taught me how cook."

After working for her friend, the opportunity eventually arose to take over the business herself when the workload became too much for one person to manage.

These days, the undisputed bestseller is the pad thai, which probably won't surprise anyone. But when I ask what she personally loves most, she doesn't hesitate. It's the pad see ew, a comforting plate of wide rice noodles stir-fried with soy sauce, Chinese broccoli and egg. The answer has nothing to do with popularity and everything to do with family. It was her father's favourite dish, and she cooked it for him countless times.

Over six years, she's built up a loyal following of regulars, particularly among customers who appreciate proper Thai spice levels. She laughs while describing how one customer brings their son, who later brings somebody else, who then tells someone else. That's largely how Aroy Thai has grown.

One story still makes her smile. Her son travelled to Thailand last year and ended up calling home to tell her he preferred her pad thai to the versions he was eating there.

As for what's next?

"I hope I'm still here and I want to talk to customers and I want to build the community."

"They want to support me and I want to give them everything."

It's a lovely sentiment, especially considering how hidden away the restaurant is.

Being tucked inside the back of a gas station convenience store isn't exactly prime real estate.

"Nobody sees me—they asked me how long are you open," she says, explaining how first-time customers are often shocked to discover she's been here for years.

Many of them end up calling it their secret place.

Back home, I bounced between the green curry and the drunken noodles while gradually working my way through an increasingly healthy supply of napkins. My nose was running by the end, exactly as I'd hoped.

The vegetables still had plenty of crunch, something that's surprisingly easy to lose in takeout. The curry was dotted with genuine Thai chillies, bringing bright bursts of heat that played beautifully against the richness of the coconut milk and the fragrant basil. The chicken strips were juicy and tender without crossing into overcooked territory. Halfway through the meal, I caught myself wondering out loud why coconut milk never seems to taste this good when I cook with it at home.

If you're looking for a solid Thai meal in Ottawa, Aroy Thai deserves a place on your list. There's no dining room, no carefully curated atmosphere and no trendy interior designed for Instagram. It's simply a tiny takeout counter hidden inside the back of a convenience store.

What it does have is heart.

That heart belongs to Suphatra, who has poured herself into this little restaurant for the past six years. The food is delicious, the story behind it is even better, and after finally making the trip to Barrhaven, I only wish we'd listened to our readers sooner.

Aroy Thai

There are some restaurants you discover because everyone is talking about them. Others you find because they occupy a busy corner downtown or sit along a major highway. And then there are places like Uncle Pete's Diner.

On a warm Friday afternoon, a convoy of Eat the Strip regulars and first timers made the drive south of Fredericton toward Rusagonis. The city gradually faded into winding country roads, forests, and stretches of farmland. After crossing the covered bridge, small signs for the diner began appearing here and there. Not many. Just enough to reassure us that we were still heading in the right direction.

Then, almost without warning, the trees opened up. A driveway appeared. And there it was. 

The unmistakable Uncle Pete's Diner sign standing proudly in the clearing.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, our group numbered around fifteen people, the largest turnout in Eat the Strip history. With our time in Fredericton beginning to wind down, it felt fitting that one of our final outings would bring us somewhere like this.

The moment you walk through the door, you understand why people make the drive.

The dining room is one of the coziest spaces I have encountered anywhere in New Brunswick. Historic photographs and paintings depicting local communities line the walls. Children's drawings hang proudly nearby. One colourful picture was addressed directly to Pete and the staff. Along one side of the room sit a handful of tables dressed with paper placemats covered in advertisements for local businesses.

There are booster seats tucked away for young families. High chairs waiting for the next generation of regulars. Alissa immediately pointed out how cute the children's artwork was.

Nothing about the room feels manufactured. It feels lived in. It feels loved.

You get the sense that countless Sunday afternoons have unfolded within these walls. Parents treating their children to breakfast after church. Friends gathering over coffee. ATV riders stopping in after a day on the trails. It feels less like a restaurant and more like a community gathering place where everyone is welcome.

Despite our unannounced arrival, Peter Lavigne—better known as Uncle Pete—along with his wife and staff welcomed our unusually large group with open arms. Their hospitality ranks among the best we have experienced during our years running this blog.

Within minutes it felt as though we had been invited into someone's home.

Outside, the family owns the neighbouring property where visitors will find picnic tables, a small pond, and even a miniature covered bridge. Maple trees dot the landscape, many of which the family taps themselves to produce maple syrup. Like so much else here, it is another reminder that Uncle Pete's is deeply rooted in the community around it.

Jacob and I decided to share two dishes: the fish and chips and a traditional breakfast.

The fish arrived coated in a thin, crispy batter that shattered pleasantly with each bite. Beneath the crunch, the fish remained remarkably moist and flaky. It was indulgent without being heavy, the sort of fish and chips that reminds you why the dish became a Maritime staple in the first place. A touch of seasoning elevated everything without overpowering the fish itself.

The traditional breakfast was exactly what you hope for when ordering breakfast at a rural diner. The sausage was classic diner fare, savoury and comforting. The eggs were cooked perfectly. Thick slices of toast arrived generously buttered and tasted unmistakably homemade. It was the kind of bread designed to soak up every last bit of egg yolk from the plate.

![Uncle Pete's traditional breakfast proves that simple diner fare is often the most satisfying](/uploads/img_1823.jpeg "Uncle Pete's Diner traditional breakfast")

Across the table, Alissa and Lily both ordered the club sandwich.

The first thing Alissa noticed was the cheese.

Apparently, the absence of cheese on club sandwiches at other establishments has become a recurring source of frustration for her, so she was pleased to find it included here. The bacon was crispy, the chicken was juicy and tender, and there was just enough mayonnaise to tie everything together. Lily summed it up best when she described it as a beautiful sandwich.

Gemma opted for the poutine.

The dish arrived piled high with fresh cheese curds that were both soft and satisfyingly squeaky. The rich gravy coated every fry while the curds helped hold everything together. It was hearty, comforting, and unapologetically authentic.

As impressive as the food was, it was speaking with Pete that helped explain why the restaurant feels so special.

Owning a restaurant had been a lifelong dream. Before opening his own place, he spent years cooking in other establishments. His first restaurant venture opened in the Prospect Inn in 2013, but rising rents and increasing costs eventually forced him to rethink his approach. Rather than continue paying someone else, he decided to build his own restaurant. As a carpenter by trade, Pete had the skills to make it happen.

![Fish and chips with a perfectly crisp batter and flaky, moist fish that delivers classic Maritime comfort](/uploads/img_1824.jpeg "Uncle Pete's Diner fish and chips")

The current diner opened in 2019, though its early days were shaped by unfortunate timing. Pete pointed toward hooks mounted near the ceiling and explained they were originally intended to hold curtains that would divide sections of the dining room when pandemic restrictions arrived shortly after opening.

Owning the building has allowed him to keep costs manageable in an industry where expenses continue to climb.

"I've noticed all the food is going up and down,” he said. “It's getting a little tougher."

Even so, affordability remains one of his priorities.

"I try to keep them as low as I can and still survive."

That commitment is immediately evident on the menu. Our breakfast cost just over ten dollars. Gemma's poutine hovered around ten. Even the fish and chips came in at roughly fifteen dollars. At a time when restaurant prices seem to climb monthly, the value here is remarkable.

Pete grew up on Fredericton's north side before moving to the area in 2008. Since opening the diner, support from local residents has helped sustain the business.

"We have a lot of support from the community and it means a lot to me."

While many people in Fredericton have never heard of Uncle Pete's, Pete laughed as he described how those who know about it often travel considerable distances to return. Customers regularly visit from Saint John, Harvey, and beyond.

When asked what first-time visitors should order, he did not hesitate. "Our clubs are a big hit and usually our breakfast is a big thing. Burgers are really good."

Pete hopes to keep running the diner for another five years before eventually passing it on to someone else.

"I won't shut it down completely."

Partway through our conversation, our server Emma overheard us talking and decided to offer her own perspective.

"This guy saved my life."

She spoke about how Pete and his family had supported her and how working at the diner feels less like a job and more like belonging to a family. Everything served here, she explained, feels like it is made with genuine care. When I asked about her favourite item on the menu, she immediately pointed to the French toast topped with warm blueberries and whipped cream.

Pete smiled as she walked away.

"I want people to feel like home when they come in."

Standing inside Uncle Pete's Diner, it is hard to imagine a better description.

The restaurant feels homemade because so much of it literally is. The maple syrup comes from trees on the property. The baking is scratch-made. The coconut cream pie disappears almost as quickly as it appears. The building itself was constructed by the owner.

Everything about this place reflects the people behind it.

In a region filled with hidden gems, Uncle Pete's may be one of the most hidden of all. Yet for those willing to make the drive down the country roads toward Rusagonis, they will discover one of the warmest dining rooms in New Brunswick, food that tastes like it came from a family kitchen, and hospitality that is increasingly difficult to find.

Just make sure to check their hours before heading out. Like many rural establishments, they keep specific operating times, with updates often posted on Facebook.

Some restaurants serve a meal. Others make you feel at home. Uncle Pete's somehow manages to do both.

Uncle Pete's Diner

One of my favourite things about doing Eat the Strip is visiting places that don't fit neatly into a category.

Heaven Inn Devon is a café. It's also an inn. There's a salon on the property. Outside sits an ice cream truck. Depending on when you visit, you might see people checking into a room upstairs, grabbing lunch, getting their hair done, or sitting on the patio enjoying a coffee in the sun.

The property sits on St. Marys Street on Fredericton's Northside, just a short distance from the walking trails. On a beautiful Thursday morning in June, Brooke, Dawoon and I stopped in to see what all the fuss was about.

Entering through the side door, you're greeted by a bright and welcoming café space. There are only a handful of tables, with much of the business seemingly geared toward takeout, but that's part of the charm. Sketches hang on the walls and a large mural depicting a map of the Northside stretches across one side of the room.

We grabbed a table near the back as regulars filtered in and out.

Brooke immediately commented on how cozy the space felt. She also appreciated that the prices felt fair for what was being offered.

Over the next hour, it became clear that Heaven Inn Devon appeals to just about everyone. Construction workers stopped in for coffee. Retirees gathered around tables chatting with one another. Young parents came through with children in tow. Others simply grabbed a drink and headed back out the door.

Many people were wisely taking advantage of the patio.

Serving them all was Paige.

"I love it," she said of working at Heaven Inn Devon. "I don't think I've ever had a boss in my life that I've loved that much."

In fact, she told us that the owners had even offered to help her move.

"We have a very good community. We have a lot of regulars and they're amazing." She paused before adding another thought. "I don't think we'd be what we are without our regulars."

That sense of community seemed evident throughout our visit.

Paige recommended the honeycomb ice cream from the truck outside, explaining that the toffee crunch mixed into it is what makes it a customer favourite. On this visit we stuck to the café. 

She also pointed us toward the banana bread latte, a seasonal specialty that she said she can usually make even when it's not officially on the menu.

For drinks, Brooke ordered the salted caramel mocha. The whipped cream was generous without becoming excessive and the coffee itself still managed to shine through.

Dawoon went with an iced vanilla matcha.

According to Dawoon, it hit the sweet spot for sweetness and tasted exactly how a good matcha should.

I ordered the banana chai latte.

The banana flavour could have easily overpowered everything else, but instead it complemented the chai spices surprisingly well. Cold, refreshing and generously portioned, it was exactly what I wanted on a warm June morning.

As good as the drinks were, we still needed something to eat.

The chicken pesto naan sandwich featured soft naan bread, juicy chicken and plenty of melted cheese. It was filling without being overly heavy and made for a satisfying breakfast.

![Soft naan packed with juicy chicken, melted cheese and pesto makes for a hearty lunch that avoids feeling overly heavy](/uploads/img_1764.jpeg "Heaven Inn Devon naan pesto")

The ham and cheese croissant was equally enjoyable. The croissant itself was flaky and buttery while the cheese delivered the kind of satisfying stretch you'd hope for. Both sandwiches came with chips, which rounded things out nicely.

One thing we didn't manage to get our hands on was a scone.

Apparently that happens a lot.

While we were there, customers periodically stopped in looking for them only to discover they had already sold out. Some menu items develop a reputation because businesses tell people they're popular. Others become popular because customers keep showing up asking where they went.

Later, I spoke with co-owner Jen about the business.

Jen's professional background is in real estate, though before that she spent years working as a server, restaurant manager and at a golf course. She and Darren purchased the property in 2020, beginning a renovation process that ultimately took roughly three years.

Today, the business has settled into a rhythm of serving both longtime regulars and newer customers.

"I think the older people really like it because of the history of the house and Paige has come up with newer drinks for the younger generation."

Recently, the café has also started attracting more high school students.

"I like it when Paige makes all kinds of new things," Jen said.

Like many businesses in the hospitality industry, Heaven Inn Devon faces challenges from rising food and labour costs.

"The restaurant industry is a difficult industry to be in," she said. "Our goal is to stay where we are."

Fortunately, owning the building provides some stability.

Most importantly, people continue to show up.

"We've gotten great community support. We have lots of regulars that come in."

One challenge remains.

"I think sometimes people still think it's not open to the public and just to people in the Airbnb."

That's understandable.

At first glance, Heaven Inn Devon looks like an inn that happens to have a café attached.

In reality, it's become something closer to a community hub.

For my chicken pesto naan sandwich and banana chai latte, the bill came to around $20. That's perhaps a touch higher than some of the lunches we've covered, but the atmosphere, service and quality justify the extra few dollars. While the food is certainly good, the drinks are what stood out most during our visit. A regular latte runs around $5, while my banana chai latte came in around $6 and was more than generous in size. Both Brooke and Dawoon were equally happy with their drinks.

More than anything, though, Heaven Inn Devon feels comfortable.

Maybe that's because of the historic house. Maybe it's the steady stream of regulars. Maybe it's because the staff seem genuinely happy to be there.Whatever the reason, it's easy to see why people keep coming back. As for me, I'll be back for the scones.

Assuming I can get there before everyone else buys them.

Heaven Inn Devon

You can smell Milda’s before you see it.

The entrance is tucked down a maze of stairs beneath the Charlotte Street Arts Centre. On this Thursday evening, the scent of wood smoke and baking dough drifts up the stairwell, drawing visitors toward a basement dining room that feels worlds away from the street above. By the time we arrive, a small lineup has formed outside the door.

Inside, the space is cozy and intimate. A half dozen tables fill the room, with wood-panelled posts running through the centre and paintings of neighbourhood homes decorating the walls. Behind the counter sits the focal point of the restaurant: a wood-fired brick oven glowing with activity. A red chalkboard menu hangs nearby, listing the evening's offerings. Having heard rumours of a fiddlehead special, my decision is made before I even reach the front of the line.

The room is full, but it never feels crowded. Part of that comes from the warmth of the space itself. Part of it comes from the aroma. It is difficult to overstate how good Milda’s smells. The scent of wood smoke, baking dough, and bubbling cheese fills every corner of the restaurant.

Normally, this is where we'd sit down with the owners to learn more about the story behind the restaurant. Unfortunately, we did not hear back before publication. However, we were able to piece together some of Milda’s history through publicly available information online.

According to those sources, the restaurant is owned and operated by Milda and Cedd Titford. Milda holds a fine arts degree from the United Kingdom and previously managed the Star Anise Restaurant before moving to Canada. She later trained in macrobiotic cooking, an influence that appears throughout the menu today. The couple opened Milda’s around 2015 and recently celebrated a decade in business. They also maintain strong ties to the arts community housed within the Charlotte Street Arts Centre and are involved with Fredericton Arts and Learning Inc.

![Seasonal fiddleheads top this wood-fired pizza, served on a thin crust with just the right amount of char](/uploads/img_1678.jpeg "Milda's Pizzas + More fiddlehead pizza")

That community-minded approach seems reflected in the menu as well. The wood-fired oven remains at the heart of the operation, turning out pizzas alongside sourdough bread and soups. There are also extensive vegan and gluten-free options available, offering something for a wide range of diners while still maintaining traditional favourites.

Our pizzas arrive fresh from the oven, carrying that unmistakable flavour that only wood fire seems capable of producing. The crust immediately stands out. Thin, lightly charred, and blistered in all the right places, it has the texture of a properly baked naan pulled from a tandoor oven. Every bite delivers a balance of chew, crispness, and smoke.

I ordered the fiddlehead special. Seasonal fiddleheads can sometimes feel like a novelty ingredient, but they work well here, bringing a fresh spring flavour to a pizza built on quality dough and simple ingredients. The wood-fired crust provides the perfect foundation.

Across the table, Lily orders a feta and pesto pizza. The basil brings freshness while the olives provide a pleasant salty kick. There is a generous amount of cheese without overwhelming the other ingredients.

Marc opts for the 3 Little Pigs, one of the restaurant's signature meat pizzas. The combination of bacon, ham, bacon marmalade, spinach, and brie creates a balance between savoury and sweet, with plenty of richness from the cheese.

What stands out most throughout the meal is the consistency. Every pizza emerges from the oven with the same careful char, the same thin crust, and the same attention to detail. It is easy to see why people become regulars.

During our visit, we run into diners who describe Milda’s as one of Fredericton’s great hidden gems. It is hard to disagree. Unlike many of the places we feature, hidden among industrial parks and suburban strip malls, this hidden gem sits beneath one of the city's cultural institutions right in the urban core.

Whether you're stopping in for a pizza and a pint before a show upstairs or catching them at the Fredericton Boyce Farmers Market on a Saturday morning, Milda’s offers something increasingly rare: a meal that feels both special and accessible. I particularly appreciated being able to order a six-inch pizza for under $15. At a time when inflation continues to squeeze household budgets, it is refreshing to find fresh ingredients, quality cooking, and a downtown location that does not leave your wallet feeling lighter.

The fiddlehead special alone is reason enough to visit while it is available. Combined with the warmth of the space, the wood-fired oven, and the sense of community that seems to surround the restaurant, it is easy to see why people keep finding their way down those stairs.

Milda's Pizzas + More

Fredericton has a funny way of hiding some of its best food. Sometimes it’s tucked beside a gas station, behind an unassuming strip mall façade, or buried in a part of town you only end up in for one oddly specific errand. Country Fried might be one of the more literal examples of this.

On a sunny Thursday afternoon, Joel, Lily and I made our way to the Fredericton Exhibition Grounds on Smythe Street in search of a fabled poutine. Ryan, the owner of Country Fried, had messaged me nearly a year ago shortly after I moved to Fredericton, proudly brandishing his credentials as winner of Community Votes Fredericton’s best poutine in both 2023 and 2024 and insisting I needed to come try it for myself. Better late than never.

Actually finding the restaurant turned out to be part of the experience.

Country Fried now operates out of a permanent indoor location inside the Exhibition Grounds after moving from the outdoor food stalls in December 2025. On the day we visited, however, the neighbouring Elm City Quilters Guild Anniversary Quilt Show had effectively transformed the building into a maze of colour and fabric. We accidentally entered through the quilt exhibition first, wandering through rows upon rows of stitched landscapes, floral patterns and hanging blankets before somehow emerging at Country Fried hidden behind the labyrinth like a secret level in a video game.

The restaurant itself is modest and comfortable, with around a dozen tables, black-painted walls and a fryer basket logo painted proudly near the counter. Awards line the walls, subtle reminders that this tiny operation has quietly built a reputation around town.

Two men greeted us warmly from behind the counter as soon as we walked in, immediately making us feel comfortable. One of them was Jet, a cook who has been working with Ryan for about half a year. After our meal he came over to chat, talking about the challenges and small victories of running a business hidden inside the Exhibition Grounds.

As a bit of a poutine purist, I ordered the classic. The first surprise was the price. A small poutine came in at under seven dollars, which in 2026 feels almost suspiciously affordable. Joel and Lily both opted for the buffalo chicken poutine.

Less than ten minutes later, the food arrived piping hot.

The fries immediately stood out. Thin-cut, crispy and still carrying bits of skin, they were exactly what you want anchoring a proper poutine. There was crunch underneath the gravy instead of instant sogginess, and the ratios felt carefully balanced. Most importantly, there were actual cheese curds here. Not shredded mozzarella masquerading as poutine cheese. Real curds with that familiar squeak. 

![A straightforward, no-nonsense poutine with crispy skin-on fries, proper cheese curds and rich gravy done exactly right](/uploads/img_1625.jpeg "Country Fried classic poutine")

The unanimous verdict around the table was that this place absolutely delivers.

Lily pointed directly to the fries as the star of the show. Joel loved the way the buffalo sauce interacted with the gravy, noting the sweetness from the buffalo sauce mixing with the saltiness of both the gravy and chicken in a way that somehow worked better than expected. The chicken itself carried a nice heat without overpowering everything else.

Jet later told us the buffalo chicken poutine and chicken bacon ranch poutine are among their hotter sellers. He also recommended the pulled pork poutine and mentioned that for customers wanting something lighter, the wontons and sandwiches have started building a following too.

Country Fried’s story has been one of constant adaptation. The business originally started on Fredericton’s north side under previous ownership focused solely on poutines before Ryan took things over and expanded the menu. Since moving into the Exhibition Grounds, they’ve had to navigate both the opportunities and unpredictability that come with the venue. Wrestling nights can generate enough business to cover an entire month’s rent, Jet told us, while other events can accidentally choke off traffic entirely if vendors or displays block their visibility. On one recent day, he said, they had only a single customer because the front façade was completely obstructed.

Even finding the entrance remains a challenge. Jet laughed while explaining how many people still don’t know where they are despite signage outside. Hidden gem gets thrown around a lot these days, but in this case it feels genuinely earned.

Still, there’s optimism. Ryan is trying to keep prices down by buying ingredients in bulk, something increasingly rare as food costs continue climbing across the province. Jet mentioned they hope to continue expanding the menu and stay in the Exhibition Grounds long term, assuming future redevelopment plans for the property don’t eventually force another move. If that happens, he said, they’d likely pivot toward a food truck model.

For now though, Country Fried feels like one of those deeply Fredericton places: humble, a little difficult to locate, staffed by genuinely kind people and serving food that far exceeds what the setting initially suggests.

If you’re craving a classic poutine that doesn’t destroy your wallet, this is absolutely worth the trip. Between the crispy skin-on fries, proper cheese curds and warm service from the lads behind the counter, it’s easy to understand why Country Fried has picked up accolades around town. Don’t let the unusual location deter you. Hidden behind quilts and exhibition halls is some seriously solid poutine, and after this visit, we’re already planning a return trip for the sandwiches and wontons.

Country Fried

There are places that feel like they’ve always been part of the routine, even if you’ve never actually stopped in. You drive past them, clock the sign without really taking it in, and then one day something shifts—you pull in, step inside, and realize you’ve been missing something that’s been there the whole time.

Buttercream Dreams sits in a strip mall along Brookside Drive, across from Brookside Mall on the Northside. Set back just enough from the road, it blends into the rhythm of traffic moving through the area. If it weren’t for the bright pink sign at the top, it’s the kind of place you could pass more than once before deciding to turn in.

Before we even get through the door, someone in our group says it—how good it smells. And it’s true. As soon as it opens, the scent of sugar and warm dough carries out into the parking lot, the kind of smell that makes the decision for you before you’ve even looked at the menu.

Inside, everything is clean and straightforward. A glass counter runs along the front, filled with donuts, pastries, cupcakes, and a few savoury options tucked into the fridge. Behind it, staff move at a steady pace, packing orders as people cycle in and out. It’s just before noon on a Tuesday in May, and the place is already busy. No seating, no lingering—just a steady flow of customers coming through, picking up boxes, and heading back out.

Buttercream Dreams has existed in some form since 2011, first as a staple at the Northside Market before moving into this brick-and-mortar space around six years ago after the market closed. What started as a trial run—selling cupcakes during an extended leave after maternity—turned into something much bigger, much faster than expected. Early on, batches would sell out in hours. That momentum hasn’t really slowed.

We’re a group of six for this one, and instead of trying to navigate the menu individually, we take the easier route—order a bit of everything and share. Boxes fill quickly. Donuts, cupcakes, squares, slices. Enough to turn the back of a car into a makeshift table.

The pricing lands in a range that feels easy to work with, especially given the quality and how fresh everything is. Donuts sit around a few dollars each, with the Korean milk donuts closer to seven, while a mix like a fritter and a few classics stays reasonable overall. Larger items like the tiramisu and lemon square come in higher, but still feel in line with what you’re getting. It adds up quickly if you’re sampling across the menu, but nothing about it feels out of step.

After a quick conversation with owner Lauralee and the staff, we take everything outside and set up in the parking lot. A donut tailgate, more or less. It feels like the right way to do it.

![Apple fritter with a crisp edge and a soft centre, finished with a nuanced icing that pulls everything together and Boston cream donut built on a rich filling and a well-structured dough that holds its shape throughout](/uploads/img_1541.jpeg "Buttercream Dreams apple fritter")

The Korean milk donuts are the first thing we get into. They’ve been circulating online for a while now—soft, filled, heavily finished—and here, they’ve taken on a life of their own. Lauralee was introduced to them through her daughter, who had seen them trending on TikTok. From there, she worked out her own version. Early batches disappeared almost immediately. At one point, they were moving thousands a week, pulling in attention far beyond Fredericton and bringing new people through the door.

They live up to it. The vanilla bean is soft and structured at the same time, filled with a cream that leans more milky than sugary. The strawberry follows the same path—light, balanced, and easy to keep going back to. Nothing about them feels overdone.

Around the table, reactions come quickly; the dough is soft, but with enough body to hold everything together.

The apple fritter ends up being one of the surprises. The texture holds throughout, with a crisp edge giving way to something softer underneath, and an icing that adds just enough without tipping too far. It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t need to stand out but ends up doing it anyway.

The cupcakes follow a similar pattern. The icing gets noticed right away—not overly sweet, just enough to carry the flavour without overwhelming it. It’s a consistent theme across everything we try. Even the tiramisu, which could easily go heavy, stays balanced. Creamy and rich, but still light enough that it doesn’t sit too long. The coffee comes through clearly, grounding it.

Later on, that same point comes up again—how something can feel both light and rich at the same time. It’s a hard balance to hit, but it shows up here more than once.

Behind it all, the operation has grown steadily. What started as a one-person setup is now a team of around ten. Recipes come from a mix of instinct and memory—some pulled from family, including a lemon square inspired by Lauralee’s grandmother, who baked well into her later years. Others are built more intuitively, shaped over time.

Despite the scale, it still feels personal. That’s something Lauralee keeps coming back to. The people, the conversations, the regulars. It’s a big part of why the place runs the way it does. Growth is there if she wants it, but it comes with trade-offs. Expanding means stepping back from the counter, and that’s not something she’s entirely ready to do.

There’s a steadiness to how everything operates. No big push, no heavy marketing. Just consistency, and a community that’s continued to show up over the years. Even now, the flow of people through the door speaks to that.

Standing out in the parking lot, working through boxes that empty quicker than expected, it’s easy to see how this becomes routine for people. Not in a flashy way. Just something reliable. Something that delivers on what it’s supposed to be.

Buttercream Dreams doesn’t try to reinvent anything. It doesn’t need to. It’s built on things that already work—good ingredients, balanced flavours, and a sense of familiarity that holds from one visit to the next.

It’s the kind of place you might miss at first. But once you’ve stopped in, it tends to stick.

Buttercream Dreams

There are places that don’t quite announce themselves. You pass them a few times, maybe register the sign without really reading it, and then eventually something makes you turn in.

Lotus Cafe & Restaurant sits along Hanwell Road, set back just enough to blend into the stretch of traffic moving past it. From the outside, it almost looks like a house—siding, low profile, easy to overlook if you’re not paying attention. The roads around it crisscross in a way that keeps things moving, but not necessarily stopping. It’s the kind of spot you could miss more than once.

Inside, it settles quickly. Yellow walls, plants placed along the floor, and a handful of tables spread across a compact dining room. A TV sits along one wall, off for the evening. There are a few barstools at the counter, a chalkboard listing specials, and behind it all, glass tumblers stacked near coffee machines. The whole space has a lived-in feel to it, like a sunroom that’s been gradually turned into a restaurant over time.

We’re here on a Friday evening around 7 p.m., with Marc, Reeves, and Dawoon. The room fills steadily, including a large table that seems to know the place well. On weekdays, Lotus runs from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m., a schedule shaped by what demand has realistically supported, with longer hours on weekends. In that window, though, things move at a good pace, and the room feels active without being rushed.

![Wide noodles and thin-sliced beef in a savoury soy base, finished with egg and green onions for a complete, well-balanced dish](/uploads/img_1430.jpeg "Lotus Cafe & Restaurant beef Thai see-ew")

After briefly considering the $40 all-you-can-eat rolls, we decide to share a few appetizers instead and go with noodle dishes for mains. Co-owner Peng comes by to greet us, and we order yam tempura, a golden dragon roll, and dim sum to start, along with Thai dishes to follow.

The appetizers arrive quickly, along with a complimentary plate of the golden dragon rolls. They’re built with cucumber, avocado, tempura shrimp, and salmon on top—balanced between crisp and soft in a way that works right away. The table doesn’t take long to get through them.

The yam tempura stands out just as much. The batter is light and crisp, giving way to a soft interior that holds its texture. Marc points out how fresh everything tastes, and it’s hard to disagree. Dawoon keeps it simple—crunchy on the outside, soft inside—and keeps going back for more.

The dim sum rounds things out well, adding something warm and steady to the table. Altogether, the starters set a strong tone early and make a case for spending time with this part of the menu.

For mains, the portions are generous. Marc’s pad thai arrives piled high, enough that he ends up packing some to take home. The beef Thai see-ew comes with thin slices of beef, wide noodles, and a dark soy base that leans savoury without being too heavy. The egg works its way through the dish, and green onions bring it together. It’s a straightforward plate that lands cleanly and does exactly what it needs to.

![A balanced mix of crunchy tempura shrimp and smooth salmon that comes together quickly at the table](/uploads/img_1426.jpeg "Lotus Cafe & Restaurant golden dragon roll")

Peng mentions it’s one of the more popular dishes, even if it’s one he’s had too many times himself. “In this business you cook for somebody else, but you want someone else to cook for you,” he says playfully.

More than anything, though, it’s the appetizers that stay with us. The rolls go first, followed closely by the tempura. If anything, it feels like the kind of menu where you could return and stay entirely within that section without missing out—and likely come away just as satisfied.

Peng and his business partner took over Lotus about three years ago, shifting it from its previous identity as a Chinese restaurant into something broader—bringing together Thai and Japanese dishes shaped by their time working in Sushi Jet. They had spent years there before deciding to open something of their own.

“We got several loyal customers,” he says, nodding toward the room.

He describes Fredericton as steady but quiet, especially later in the evening. For a place like this, the current setup works, even if it comes with constraints. Rising costs are a constant factor.

“Nowadays everything is expensive. We’re not able to hire more labour,” he says.

He mentions that even regulars have had to adjust how often they come in. “Two years ago these people maybe come once or twice a week—now maybe once a month.”

At the same time, he’s thinking about what comes next—adding new dishes, removing ones that don’t move, and gradually shaping the menu into something that reflects both his background and what the city responds to.

Peng grew up in Shanghai and came to Canada in 2015 to study before moving into the restaurant industry. That background shows up quietly in how the menu is put together. The food is consistent, the portions are fair, and the space has an ease to it that makes it comfortable to settle into. There’s care in how the dishes come together and a clear effort to make the menu approachable without losing its footing.

Lotus feels like a place continuing to find its stride, shaped by the people behind it and the community around it. The foundation is already there—a capable kitchen, a menu that connects, and a room that fills when it matters. It’s easy to see this becoming part of someone’s regular rotation. 
And as the menu evolves, it feels worth following along.

Lotus Cafe & Restaurant

There’s a certain kind of place you don’t really notice until you do—and then you realize it’s been there the whole time, doing exactly what it’s always done.

Red Lantern Pub & Steak House sits on Main Street with zero interest in trends. On this Friday night, the room fills up steadily, like it always has. It’s April 10 and one of the first days in a while that pushes past 15 degrees, but that doesn’t seem to matter here. The regulars would be here regardless.

Inside, it’s dimly lit in a way that works. The kind of lighting that makes everything feel settled. Red walls, green wood panelling that almost gives off a Christmas feel, Alpine logos stamped on the windows, and that granite-style flooring straight out of the 50s or 60s. There’s a TV tucked into one corner, and on the walls, photos that feel like they’ve been there forever—including a shot of the Red Lantern Flames from the mid-70s. In another corner, something else is going on: pink and blue balloons, boxes of Pampers stacked on the floor. A baby shower, or maybe a reveal. It blends right in.

We’re here with Marc, Isa, and Reeves, settling into a table as the place slowly tightens up with people. This spot is sure of itself. There’s no room for doubt. Don’t come here looking for whatever’s trending online—this place hasn’t changed, and that’s exactly the point. The servers have been here for decades, the menu sticks to what works, and when you walk in, you’re treated the same as everyone else. No fuss, no posturing. Just a room full of people who know why they’re here.

![A straightforward, no-frills steak and fries that leans on tradition](/uploads/img_1322.jpeg "Red Lantern Pub & Steak House steak and fries")

It’s the kind of place where regulars don’t just come in—they bring people with them. Future regulars. You can feel that happening around you as coats come off, greetings get exchanged, and tables fill without anyone really noticing when it happened.

Prena, who’s been working here for over two decades, stops by and tells us the place opened April 16, 1973—an anniversary coming up. For 53 years, it’s been a neighbourhood watering hole.

"When people come back they always visit," she says.

She explains that part of it is how easy the place is.

"The fact that it’s so laid back and chill and it doesn’t matter what you do for a living you’re all treated the same," she says.

She adds, "We have the best customers that come into this store."

And really, that’s what it feels like sitting here. No one’s performing. No one’s trying to be seen.

"The atmosphere is chill and the food is consistently good," she says.

In a time where places open and close constantly, where menus flip every few months trying to catch something, she keeps coming back to the same idea.

"We have excellent staff in the kitchen who are really good," she says, before adding that the key is consistency—always keeping the food the same.

Apparently, the steak and eggs outsell everything. At the end of the day, this is a steakhouse, and that’s what people come for. Two years ago, new ownership stepped in and added a few things—wings, for example—but nothing that changes what this place is.

When asked about what’s next, she keeps it simple.

"I see us continuing on our tradition here," she says.

The food lands and it’s exactly what you expect—in a way that feels reassuring. No surprises, no overthinking. Plates that don’t need explaining.

The steak comes out hot with a proper sear, the kind of plate that reminds you why steakhouses don’t need to reinvent themselves. 

The poutine holds its own, with a solid gravy-to-fry ratio and curds that stand out. Isa zeroes in on that right away—they really like the curds, and they keep going back for another bite. For them, the steak and the poutine are the standouts.

Reeves keeps it simple—it’s good—and that kind of sums up the table. No one’s overthinking it. Plates get worked through without much pause.

What settles in more than anything is the feeling. The food is comforting, but it’s the room that does most of the work. The ease of it. The way no one’s in a rush. The way conversations stretch out without noticing time.

This is an Eat the Strip kind of place. A strip mall original that opened when strip malls were at their peak—and never felt the need to chase anything else. The same burger’s been on the menu since the 70s. The room hasn’t shifted. And in a world—especially post-pandemic—where everything feels like it’s constantly turning over, it’s rare to sit somewhere that hasn’t moved.

But it’s not just nostalgia. None of us have history here. We’re new to it, and it still lands. Sitting at the table, then lingering outside after, messing around in the parking lot longer than we planned, it’s easy to see how this becomes part of someone’s routine.

The Red Lantern isn’t trying to be rediscovered. It’s not waiting for attention. It’s already been here the whole time, doing exactly what it does.

If you’re new to Fredericton—or even just new to the northside—this is one of those places you go to understand it a little better. Not by overthinking it, but by just showing up, sitting down, and letting it be what it is.

Red Lantern Pub & Steak House

There are places that ease you in slowly, and then there are places like Mantra, where the setting catches you a little off guard before the food has a chance to.

You walk in, take a spiral staircase up, and suddenly you’re looking out over a curling club. It’s not something you expect going into dinner. The space opens up a bit more than you’d think, with a TV off to one side, music playing through the speakers, and tables filled with a mix of groups settling in for the evening. I’m there with Marc, Noel, Marco and Nina, and not long after we sit down, it becomes clear this isn’t a quiet night. There’s a steady hum to the room—families, conversations, plates moving in and out of the kitchen.

What stands out right away is who’s there. A lot of Indian families, which usually tells you more than any menu description can. Mantra seems like the real deal.

Even at 8 p.m., the owners are happy to let us order dosas. We start listing off dishes—maybe a bit too enthusiastically—and partway through, the server pauses and asks if we’re sure. Five dishes in already. Fair enough. We keep going.

The dosas arrive first, and the table doesn’t hesitate. They’re gone almost as quickly as they land.

If you haven’t had one before, a dosa is a thin, crispy crepe made from a fermented rice and lentil batter, served with chutneys and sambar on the side. The plain dosa here sets the tone early. The fermentation comes through immediately—tangy, fragrant, alive in a way that’s hard to fake. The spicy chutney brings heat, the sambar leans tangy and savoury, and the coconut chutney cools everything down just enough. It all plays together the way it should.

![The dosa was crisp, tangy, and deeply flavourful with chutneys that bring heat, acid, and balance](/uploads/img_1260.jpeg "Mantra Restaurant & Bar plain dosa")

I loved it. Fully. The kind of dish that doesn’t try to soften itself for anyone. Bold, direct, and confident. The kind of dosa that would feel right at home at a roadside stall in Telangana. At around ten dollars, it’s also one of those things you don’t think twice about ordering again.

Marco keeps coming back to it too—the fragrance, the range of spice, how present everything feels. It’s layered without being complicated. Nina, unfazed by the heat, just keeps going.

![The hakka noodles were thin, eggy, and a strong start with well-cooked shrimp](/uploads/img_1263.jpeg "Mantra Restaurant & Bar hakka noodles")

From there, the table fills out quickly.

The daal ends up being Marco’s favourite. Rich, slightly sweet, and most importantly, not watered down. It has weight to it, a consistency that holds, with a depth that builds as you move through it. It’s the kind of dish that quietly becomes the one you keep going back to between everything else.

Marc zeroes in on the butter chicken. It’s a dish that tends to lean too sweet or too heavy in a lot of places, but this one keeps itself in check. Balanced, with enough flavour to carry through without tipping too far in any direction.

The naan lands somewhere between exactly what you expect and a bit better than that. Noel describes it best—like really good garlic bread, but lighter, with a bit of crisp on the edges and soft through the middle. It does what it needs to do, especially when you start dragging it through the curries.

We also spend some time with the Indo-Chinese side of the menu, which ends up being more than just an afterthought. The noodles come out early—thin, eggy, with well-cooked shrimp—and set things up in a way that works. A good entry point before everything else hits the table.

At some point, I get a chance to speak with Manoj, the owner. His background runs deep—his family operated a restaurant near Hyderabad for over 20 years, and he’s been making dosas since he was ten. After moving to Fredericton in 2023, they spent a couple of years doing delivery and catering before opening this space in December 2025.

They took their time with it too. Three months just to build the menu and figure out pricing.

“Our best sellers are biryani, dosa and naan,” he tells me, though interestingly, the Indo-Chinese dishes—hakka noodles, fried rice—end up moving the most. It’s a mix that reflects both familiarity and curiosity from the crowd coming in.

For people newer to Indian food, he suggests starting simple: paneer butter masala, naan, dosa. Everything can be adjusted depending on spice level, which explains how they’re able to serve both those who know exactly what they want and those still figuring it out.

There’s a clear division of skill in the kitchen too. Manoj handles the dosas himself, while the rest of the team—Nepalese chefs—focus on momos and tandoori items, from shrimp to whole chicken.

He mentions they’d like to expand eventually. For now, though, the focus is on getting more people through the door—especially those who might not already be familiar with South Indian flavours. There’s already a strong base from the local Indian community. The next step is widening that circle.

I’ll be honest—my bar for Indian food is high. Probably higher than it should be. I grew up with it, and I tend to compare everything back to meals I’ve had in Delhi. It’s not always fair, and it usually leads to picking things apart even when they’re good.

So I came in cautious.

I didn’t need to.

Mantra is doing some of the best Indian restaurant food in Fredericton right now. Not in a way that feels like it’s trying to impress, but in a way that feels confident in what it is. The curries are rich and layered, the naan comes out of the tandoor soft with the right amount of char, and the dosas alone are enough to anchor the whole experience.

There’s also a clear understanding of balance—what the Indian palate expects and what works for a broader Canadian audience. And they adjust without losing the core of what the dishes are supposed to be.

Prices sit comfortably between $12 and $17 for most dishes, which, given the quality, feels like something that may not hold forever.

If you’re going to come here, come with people. Order more than you need. Eat with your hands. Take your time with it.

Because as Marco pointed out, it’s not every day you find yourself working through a table full of dosas and curries while a curling match plays out just below you.

Mantra Restaurant & Bar

There are places you walk into and immediately know what you’re getting. And then there are places like Sunshine Diner, tucked just off Brookmount, where it takes a few minutes before you realize what makes it special.

You step inside and time seems to slow down a little. Conversations stretch out. Nobody’s rushing. The servers move with a kind of steady confidence—efficient, but on their own rhythm, like they’ve been doing this for years. And in many cases, they have.

My roommate and I arrived to find our friends already settled in. The room feels lived in. Wood laminate floors, red leather booths lining the walls, and about a dozen tables filled with a mix of regulars and small groups catching up midweek. A chalkboard lists the day’s specials, while the walls carry old photos that look like they’ve been part of Fredericton for just as long as the diner itself. The kitchen is open, and above it, a sunshine mural watches over everything. 

There are little details that stick with you. As you pass through the entrance, you notice what used to be shelving from its earlier life as a grocery store—back when candy and knickknacks lined the walls. Off to the right, there’s a self-serve coffee station with unlimited refills, and a row of old steel teapots for anyone leaning away from coffee that morning. It’s the kind of setup that tells you this place knows its crowd.

About a decade ago, I would’ve said I hoped a spot like this would be spared by hipsters. Walking in now, it feels like it was. On this Wednesday, the old-timers are out in full force, and you get the sense that a lot of people here didn’t just discover Sunshine—they’ve been coming for years.

We grab coffee and settle in before the server comes by. One of my friends mentions how full the place is, and she replies, “We got a little busy—this is nothing though.” It says everything you need to know. 

We all go in different directions with our orders. One lands on a BLT with a side of poutine. I go for the Sunshine Benny. Another keeps it classic with a clam chowder and bread roll, and my third friend orders the French toast. About fifteen minutes later, everything starts to arrive. 

The first thing that hits you isn’t presentation or flair—it’s familiarity.

The bread reminds one of my friends of something their grandma used to make. There’s a kind of nostalgia that settles in quickly, especially with the weather outside still stuck in that late-winter, early-spring limbo—grey slush on the ground, but something warmer just starting to push through. Inside, it’s the opposite. Warm, steady, comforting. The kind of meal that, as they put it, “fill your belly and your heart.” The others both nod along, calling it an “authentic, homemade feel,” and it’s hard to argue with that. 

![Runny yolks, generous hollandaise, and molasses baked beans come together in a hearty, no-frills take on a classic](/uploads/img_1239.jpeg "Sunshine Diner sunshine benny")

My Sunshine Benny leans into that same idea. Two fried eggs, ham on a toasted bun, covered generously in hollandaise, with a side of baked beans. The yolks break easily, running into the sauce and soaking into the bread underneath. It’s rich without trying to be anything more than what it is. The beans have that molasses sweetness that rounds everything out, and the ham is well seasoned and sits comfortably in the mix. It’s the kind of plate that feels like a weekend breakfast—but here we are, in the middle of a snowy Wednesday, and it still hits exactly the same.

For just around twenty dollars after tax, it’s a generous portion, and looking around the menu, there are plenty of dishes closer to the fifteen-dollar mark too.

I end up digging into the poutine as well—gooey cheese, the kind that stretches just enough to remind you it was done right. The BLT stands out because of that bread more than anything else. It’s soft, fresh, and clearly made in-house. That’s something you notice across the table. Everything here feels like it came from the same kitchen, not a freezer. What some might call a scratch kitchen, but here it just feels normal.

![Fresh, homemade bread layered with crisp bacon and simple fillings that lean fully into comfort and nostalgia](/uploads/img_1242.jpeg "Sunshine Diner BLT")

I’m not usually a French toast guy, but I take the last piece with some table syrup and go in. It’s simple. No over-the-top flavours, no attempt to reinvent anything. And that’s kind of the point. None of the dishes are trying to surprise you—they’re just trying to do things properly.

And they do.

At some point, I get chatting with Leslie, who’s seated at the counter working through a cheeseburger poutine. She used to work here, and you can tell right away this place means something to her. She tells me the building dates back to the 1950s, when it operated as a grocery store with a small lunch counter before slowly evolving into the diner it is today. Most of the staff, she says, have been here for decades, and that continuity is part of what keeps people coming back.

“It’s homemade. Everything is done in house,” she says, adding that the recipes haven’t really changed over time. There’s a sense of consistency here that’s hard to replicate. As she puts it, “You come and you’re part of the family. You watch kids grow up.” Even with new ownership coming in less than two years ago, she’s quick to point out that nothing about the experience has shifted in any meaningful way. The food, the feel, the people—it’s all been left intact, and intentionally so.

And that’s really what sticks with you. The food isn’t trying to be the best thing you’ve ever had. It’s trying to be something you come back to. Something that reminds you of somewhere—or someone—you haven’t thought about in a while.

There’s value in that. More than we probably give it credit for.

Sunshine Diner

Just past the busier stretches of Fredericton, where the city begins to thin into something quieter and more industrial, sits Old Salty's Fish & Chips. It’s the kind of place you could drive by without much notice—low-slung, unassuming, tucked among working businesses—but on a rainy Friday in March, the glow from inside tells a different story.

Push open the door and you’re greeted first by the smell. Warm oil, crisping batter, something savoury and familiar hanging in the air. It’s the kind of scent that settles in immediately, the kind that makes the wait feel worthwhile before you’ve even reached the counter.

To the right, two wooden benches run along the wall—old-school, sturdy, the kind that have likely seen decades of diners coming and going. Off to the left, another seating area opens up, simple but welcoming. The walls are lined with old photos of Fredericton, small glimpses into the city’s past that give the space a quiet sense of continuity. Nothing here feels staged. It’s lived-in, but clean, worn in the way that only comes from years of steady use.

Behind the counter, the kitchen hums with activity. Half a dozen people move in practiced rhythm, doubling between cooking and serving, while a delivery driver slips in and out the door at regular intervals. The man at the front works with the ease of someone who’s done this for a long time. There’s no rush in his movements, even as the line begins to build.

“It’s got character,” Reeves says as we take it all in. He’s not wrong.

We order simply. Reeves and I both go for the fish and chips. Marc opts for a donair. Overhead, an old-school menu hangs above a cash till, listing pizzas and oven-baked subs alongside the classics. 

The place fills quickly as dinner approaches. Rain taps steadily against the windows, and inside, a mix of regulars and first-timers settles into the rhythm of the room. You get the sense that many of the people here have been coming for years. A few old-timers chat easily at nearby tables, their presence reinforcing what’s already evident: this is a Lincoln institution, the kind that doesn’t need to announce itself.

Old Salty’s has been around for over 30 years. Before this location, it operated out of the Rocky Lemon Café across the street. It’s a history rooted in adaptation, but always anchored in the same thing—feeding people well.

![Golden, crisp haddock with a light batter that shatters just enough to give way to tender, flaky fish](/uploads/img_1186.jpeg "Old Salty's Fish & Chips fish and chips")

When the food arrives, it does so without ceremony.

The fish is golden and crisp, the batter light rather than heavy, shattering slightly with each bite. It’s not beer-battered, but it doesn’t need to be. What matters is the balance: a clean crunch giving way to tender, flaky haddock inside. It’s hot, fresh, and notably not greasy, the kind of plate you can work through without feeling weighed down.

The fries do their job well—crisp-edged, soft-centred, and built for dipping.

Instead of the usual tartar, the fish comes with a house-made sauce that leans sweet and garlicky, reminiscent of donair sauce. It’s an unexpected pairing, but one that works, adding a different kind of richness to each bite. If you’re after tartar, it’s likely available, but the in-house option feels like part of the identity here.

Across the table, Marc is already deep into his donair.

There’s a moment of quiet as he takes his first proper bite, followed by an immediate verdict—it’s excellent. The meat is thinly sliced, layered with fresh vegetables, and coated in a generous amount of that same garlicky, sweet sauce. It spills slightly with each bite, messy in the way a good donair should be. There’s no restraint here, just balance and familiarity done right.

![A classic donair, messy in the best way, layered with thin-sliced meat and generous sauce](/uploads/img_1188.jpeg "Old Salty's Fish & Chips donair ")

Later, we speak with Lisa, who recently returned to work at Old Salty’s after having been part of the operation decades ago. She’s been back for three months now, stepping into a role that sees her doing a bit of everything—something she says comes naturally in a place like this. She used to handle deliveries, and now finds herself moving between tasks as needed.

“It’s a family-owned business,” she explains. “Our pizzas are quite popular, and we have a little bit of everything.”

That sense of range is evident on the menu, but so is the consistency. When asked what keeps people coming back, she doesn’t hesitate.

“Good quality food,” she says, before adding that many customers return after years away. Some move out west—to Alberta, she mentions—and make a point of stopping in when they’re back, often bringing others with them.

The recipes, she tells us, are family recipes. Kept close, passed down, unchanged in the ways that matter.

“Our donair is homemade and not store-bought,” she says. In the past, people would come in asking to buy it in bulk—pails of it—to take with them when they left the province.

She speaks warmly about the team, about the people she works with, about the ease of returning to something familiar. When asked her personal favourite, she smiles and points to the pizzas.

Behind it all is Richard, the owner, who we’re told sources ingredients locally and remains closely involved in the day-to-day. It’s the kind of hands-on approach that feels increasingly rare, but here, it shows—in the food, in the pace, in the way the place runs.

By the time we’re finishing up, the room is full. Conversations overlap, orders are called out, and the steady rhythm of the kitchen continues without pause.

Places like Old Salty’s don’t last 30 years by accident.

They last because they find a way to matter—to the neighbourhood, to the people who return, to the ones who bring friends back with them after years away. It’s consistency, yes. Quality, certainly. But it’s also something less tangible: familiarity, reliability, the quiet assurance that what you’re getting today will be just as good the next time.

And then there’s the value.

In a moment where eating out feels increasingly like a luxury, meals here remain grounded. My single-piece fish and chips comes in at around $10. Reeves, with two pieces, a drink, and gravy, still lands under $20. It’s the kind of pricing that feels almost out of step with the current moment—in the best way possible.

Outside, the rain hasn’t let up. The pavement glistens under the evening light, and cars move steadily along Lincoln Road. Inside, though, it’s warm. Plates are passed across tables, orders wrapped up for the road, and the smell of fresh fish and fries lingers in the air. Places like this still exist. And in a city that continues to grow and change, that feels worth holding onto.

Old Salty's Fish & Chips

Just off Riverside Drive, a little removed from the busier parts of the city, sits Dee’s Kitchen. From the outside it’s easy to miss, another modest storefront in a quiet strip of businesses. But the moment you step inside, the smell tells you exactly where you are. Rich spices hang in the air, the unmistakable aroma of Nigerian cooking drifting from the kitchen.

There are five tables inside, and the space immediately feels cozy and lived in. A neon Dee’s Kitchen sign glows against the wall, and in the corner a television plays Afrobeats videos that add a gentle rhythm to the room. It’s simple but warm, the kind of place where you can already imagine settling in for a long meal with friends.

We arrive as a group of five and grab a table while the kitchen hums in the background. Behind the counter, Dee is cooking alongside her mom and a few staff members. Before long she comes out to greet us with an easy smile. Rather than have us puzzle over the menu, she suggests bringing us a sampler platter first so we can try a range of dishes before ordering more.

She tells us that jollof rice is one of the most popular dishes, along with egusi soup and fufu.

I mention that I almost feel bad ordering so much food because it’s Ramadan and she’s fasting, but she waves the concern away with a laugh. Hospitality seems to come naturally here.

Not long after, one of the cooks steps out from the kitchen to introduce himself. He’s from Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of Congo and chats with us for a few minutes, warm and welcoming. Looking around the dining room, it’s clear we’re the only non-Africans eating there that afternoon. If you’re searching for authenticity, that’s usually a good sign.

Soon the platter arrives.

Two soups sit side by side: efo riro and egusi, both brimming with meat. The goat pieces have a dark, almost charred edge that hints at the depth of flavour waiting inside the bowl. Mixed throughout are pieces of beef offal as well, cuts that add richness and texture.

![Egusi soup served with pillowy fufu and generous pieces of richly seasoned goat and traditional meats](/uploads/img_1134.jpeg "Dee's Kitchen egusi soups")

Both dishes are deeply rooted in Yoruba cuisine, the culture Dee comes from in southwestern Nigeria. Efo riro is a vegetable soup built around leafy greens simmered down with peppers, palm oil, and spices until everything melds together into something hearty and complex. Egusi, by contrast, is made from ground melon seeds that thicken the soup and lend it a nutty, savoury flavour that has made it one of Nigeria’s most beloved dishes.

Alongside the soups comes fresh fufu.

Fufu is a staple across much of West Africa, made by pounding cassava or yam into a smooth, stretchy dough. It’s not meant to be eaten alone but used to scoop and soak up the soups. You tear off a small piece with your fingers, roll it gently, and dip it into the stew.

The fufu here is soft and fresh, almost cloudlike in texture.

The goat meat carries a deep, savoury flavour that stands up beautifully to the spices. The greens in the efo riro have a pleasant bitterness, almost like mustard greens, cutting through the richness of the palm oil. Each bite feels layered: heat from the peppers, smokiness from the meat, nuttiness from the egusi.

At one point Reeves bravely samples a piece of beef stomach but decides the texture isn’t quite for him and slides it across the table to Brent, who handles it without hesitation. Offal can be divisive, and while I found myself enjoying the deeper flavours—along with what I suspect were a few trotters mixed in—the texture isn’t everyone’s favourite.

Still, there’s unanimous agreement around the table that the flavours are exceptional.

The food is bold, spicy, and deeply comforting. You can taste the care behind it, the kind of cooking that carries the imprint of family recipes and years spent perfecting them.

Later, Dee sits down with us for a few minutes to share her story.

She first arrived in Fredericton in 2016 as an international student. At the time there were no African restaurants in the city, and even finding the right ingredients could be difficult. Sometimes she travelled to Ontario or Moncton just to pick up what she needed.

Eventually that experience sparked an idea.

She began cooking in a commercial kitchen, preparing food for events and community gatherings. Over time the demand grew, and the thought of opening a restaurant began to feel possible.

“Food is about culture, diversity, getting used to what’s going on in the environment,” she tells us.

Part of her motivation was making sure others wouldn’t face the same challenges she did when she first arrived.

“I don’t want people to go through the same thing that I went through so I decided to open a restaurant.”

Her vision wasn’t just about food but about creating a place where people could gather and relax beyond the routines of school and work.

Since arriving in Canada she has become a citizen, something she speaks about with pride. The restaurant itself opened on March 1, 2025, though if you include her years of catering beforehand she estimates she’s been in the business for about seven years.

The response has been strong.

“The turnout has been really massive,” she says.

She’s already working hard to spread the word, dropping flyers around the city and preparing to appear at the Garrison Night Market. While many first-time visitors gravitate toward the classics like jollof rice and egusi with fufu, she’s eager for people to try the restaurant’s finger foods and other traditional dishes as well.

Looking ahead, she dreams of eventually moving into a larger space. In five years she hopes the restaurant could host events, maybe even karaoke nights or Friday gatherings where people can come together for more than just a meal. She also hopes to open another branch someday, possibly in Woodstock, where there’s a growing population of international students.

![Rich, peppery and deeply comforting, the efo riro at Dee’s Kitchen layers tender goat, leafy greens, and bold Nigerian spices into a bowl that tastes like generations of home cooking](/uploads/img_1132.jpeg "Dee's Kitchen efo riro ")

“My main customers are Nigerians. But it’s actually diverse. We have different people coming in.”

Watching people enjoy the food is what motivates her most.

“Sometimes I feel great and happy when I see people eat food and enjoy, that’s what I get my happiness from.”

She also takes pride in what the restaurant represents for the local Nigerian community.

She says she’s grateful to be “able to give my community what they have—they don’t have to go all the way home to get their food.”

Running the restaurant hasn’t been without challenges. The price of proteins has risen sharply since opening, but she’s worked hard to keep portions generous despite the increases.

“I still haven’t changed the quantity or the size,” she says.

Her cooking roots trace back to Lagos, where she grew up in a family of five siblings and learned to cook early. Her mother—now working beside her in the kitchen—taught her everything she knows. The recipes themselves come from her grandmother, passed down through generations.

One day, she hopes to pass them along to her own son.

By the end of our meal the table is a cheerful mess of empty plates and sauce-streaked bowls.

We ordered the combo of efo riro and egusi soup, each served with generous portions of fufu. Earlier we had worked our way through a sampler platter that included jollof rice and village rice. Most dishes fall in the $25–30 range, and our total came to about $80, roughly $16 each before tip.

That’s why sharing is the way to go here. Portions are generous, and ordering a few dishes for the table lets you experience the range of flavours.

The beauty of Nigerian food—and especially Dee and her mom’s cooking—is how transporting it can be. Outside, Fredericton in March still means snowbanks and icy sidewalks. Inside, as you tear off a piece of fufu and dip it into a bowl of egusi, that winter chill fades away. The peppery goat, rich soup, and bold spices unfold bite after bite.

It’s food meant to be eaten with your hands, a little messy and very communal.

Meals like this aren’t about grabbing something quick before moving on with your day. They’re about passing dishes across the table, laughing with friends, and enjoying the kind of home-cooked food that carries warmth in every bite. Sharing not only makes the experience better, it also keeps the bill pleasantly manageable.

And if you want to start with a classic, Dee is making some of the best jollof rice in the city. Judging by the steady flow of customers coming in and out while we were there, Fredericton seems to be catching on.

Dee's Kitchen

On a bright, sun-soaked morning, I set out with my friends Jacob, Alex, and Zach—all four of us currently navigating the Bachelor of Education program at Saint Thomas University—to a place that has become something of a legend within our cohort. If you ask around, you’ll hear whispers that Jacob must secretly be on payroll at Boulangerie Seoul. Since September, he’s raved about it with near-religious devotion and has even been known to distribute the bakery’s business cards like party favours. Growing up in Fredericton, he calls it “it’s my favourite gem in Fredericton and I love sharing it with people,” and after this visit, it’s hard to argue with him.

Tucked inside the Silverwood Inn & Suites at 3136 Woodstock Road, the bakery reveals itself in an unexpected pocket of the city. You step inside and are greeted by a clean, open space bathed in natural light. Wood floors stretch across a wide dining area that once housed a different restaurant, now dotted with over a dozen white tables. There’s a wooden counter by the window where we settle in after ordering, sunlight pooling around our plates. Plants line the room, softening the edges of winter and adding a lived-in warmth. Communal art hangs on the walls. Next door, the owner’s mother runs a nail salon; her father owns the motel. It’s a true family operation, grounded and unpretentious, with Kingsclear Community School just up the road.

We arrive at 9:45 a.m., smug in our punctuality. I’ve been once before and know how quickly the pastries disappear. By 10 a.m., a steady stream of customers begins filing in. On weekends, we’re told, the line barely stops. There have been many sold-out days, something co-owner Seulah Jang says still feels surreal. She and her fiancé opened the bakery in August 2023 after moving back from Korea, where he honed his craft in French pastry kitchens. “We are specialized in French pastry,” she explains, noting how popular French baking is in Korea and how much experience her fiancé gained working in multiple locations there. What began as just the two of them running the shop quickly became unsustainable as word spread and lineups formed. They now employ three part-time staff and one full-time staff member, trying to keep up with demand while working with suppliers to keep prices as accessible as possible.

Jacob insists that what makes this place special is that “Here you find a type of pastry that you only find in a big city that have a lot of cultural communities. Fredericton having a place like this—it’s a gem.” Looking at the display case, it’s hard not to see his point.

We order a salted caramel tigré, canelé, pistachio croissant, matcha framboise, Dubai tart, bombolone, and a regular mocha. (If you order six pastries, they’re tax free—a small victory that feels like a gift.) Our total comes to around $40, which, considering the artistry involved, feels more than fair. Most pastries hover around $6–7, lattes about $5.50, and there are treats under $5 if you’re looking to keep things modest.

![A sugar-dusted bombolone filled with silky custard—proof that simplicity, when done right, is pure perfection](/uploads/img_1030.jpeg "Boulangerie Seoul bombolone")

The mocha is sweet and comforting, the kind of drink that leans dessert but still pairs beautifully with a flaky pastry. The salted caramel tigré is a revelation: a heavier, crumbly cake with a shortbread-like texture and a glossy ravine of salted caramel running through it. The caramel melts into each bite, lingering just long enough to demand another sip of coffee.

Zach tackles the pistachio croissant and quickly abandons any attempt at decorum. The custard oozes the moment you break into it, flakes scattering everywhere, making it clear that forks are merely suggestions. He declares it pistachio-loaded, punctuated by a satisfied hum. It’s light, impossibly flaky, and generously filled, the nuttiness balanced by just enough sweetness.

![Light and creamy with a deeply caramelized top, Boulangerie Seoul's bestselling Basque cheesecake bridges Seoul and Fredericton in every bite](/uploads/img_1031.jpeg "Boulangerie Seoul Basque cheesecake")

Alex goes in expecting the canelé to be dense and heavy but is surprised by its complexity. The caramelized exterior gives way to a layered interior that feels almost hollow in places, creating a striking contrast between crisp shell and tender centre. With its mousse-like interior and burnished crust, it’s not overly sweet—more nuanced than showy, almost like an inverted cupcake injected with silk.

And then there’s the bombolone. Zach, without hesitation, announces he could happily commit himself to this doughnut for life. He insists that all doughnuts should be filled, and this one sets the standard. Lightly dusted with sugar, impossibly soft, and brimming with custard, it embodies a kind of simple perfection. It’s the sort of pastry that makes you rethink what a doughnut can be—humble, yes, but executed with care and precision.

Later, Jacob returns to the counter and reappears with a slice of Basque cheesecake, which Seulah tells us is currently their bestseller. One bite and I understand why. It’s light and creamy, with a fluffy, slightly eggy crust and a deep caramelized top that brings a gentle bitterness to balance the sweetness. There’s joy in every bite. For me, it unlocks a memory of caramel custard from my childhood in Delhi—dense, velvety, steamed puddings with deep amber tops and a richness that feels both indulgent and nostalgic. This cheesecake carries that same spirit, bridging continents in a single forkful.

Seulah’s own journey mirrors that sense of fusion. Originally from Seoul, she attended high school in St. Andrews, studied in London, Ontario, returned to Korea, and then came back to New Brunswick in 2021 to prepare for opening the bakery. When I ask what she’d like people to know, she simply says, “I wanted to say thank you to our community.” There’s sincerity there—gratitude for the early mornings, the lineups, the sold-out days, and the support that’s allowed them to start searching for a second location, even if finding the right spot has proven challenging.

Fredericton’s café scene has needed a lifeline after some difficult pandemic years, and while Boulangerie Seoul sits a little outside the downtown core, it’s worth the short drive. And perhaps, if all goes to plan, they’ll be closer to the city centre sooner than we think. This Korean-French union feels rare and intentional, a reminder that fusion, when done thoughtfully, expands rather than dilutes tradition. It would be difficult to rank favourites, but if pressed, I’d place the Basque cheesecake first, followed closely by the bombolone (though Zach may contest that claim), and then the pistachio croissant with its sticky, custard-laden layers.

Authenticity will always have its place, but there is something beautiful about the meeting of cultures, about recipes that travel and evolve. Fredericton is lucky to have this gem. Judging by the morning crowds and the empty pastry trays, the city seems to know it too.

Boulangerie Seoul

On a Friday at 4 pm, that quiet hour between lunch and dinner, we walked into Tomotachi Sushi at 1168 Smythe Street, tucked between a grocery store and a burger joint. From the outside, it’s unassuming. Inside, though, it’s all warm wood panelling, mellow pop music, and that cozy, lived-in feel that tells you a place has been loved rather than simply occupied. A green feature wall anchors one corner, comfortable booths line the space, and at the back you can watch the chefs carefully assembling rolls while the kitchen hums behind a curtain.

When we arrived there was just one occupied table and a steady trickle of takeout orders. By the time we left, nearly every seat was filled. Families, coworkers, and groups of friends filtered in, most of them ordering sushi. It felt like we had stumbled into the start of the dinner rush without even trying.

Kevin, the manager, came by to chat and told us the restaurant has been under new ownership for about two and a half years, though Tomotachi itself has been around for nearly a decade. Their focus since taking over has been freshness. “We try to source our fish fresh,” he told us, explaining that the chefs filet the fish themselves and put serious emphasis on ingredient quality, even if it means dishes take a little longer. When we asked what we should try, he didn’t hesitate: the salmon had been delivered the day before and should be at the top of our list.

We were sold.

Our server brought complimentary miso soup to start, a warm and savoury way to whet our appetites, alongside jasmine tea. About 20 minutes later, our sushi matsu and yaki noodles hit the table and we dug in immediately.

The salmon nigiri was almost buttery, extremely fresh, and uniquely delicate in flavour. Isa, who’s been to Japan, nodded approvingly at the texture — exactly as it should be. The California roll was a reminder that “Americanized” doesn’t mean inferior; the rice was well seasoned and sticky without being heavy, allowing the flavours to shine. Then there was the eel: rich with umami, almost grassy in its depth, buttery and beautifully paired with a dab of wasabi.

![Fresh salmon nigiri, rich eel, a perfectly balanced California roll, and saucy yaki noodles made for a Friday feast that felt both comforting and indulgent](/uploads/img_0964.jpeg "Tomotachi Sushi sushi matsu")

The yaki noodles were saucy in the best way. Crunchy vegetables balanced the softness of the noodles, and the grilled shrimp added a savoury bite. There were bits of sesame that gave a subtle nod to Korean influences. I loved the level of spice; Isa would have happily taken it up a notch, but we both agreed the sauce was a winner. We polished off the entire plate quickly, barely pausing between bites.

![Saucy yaki noodles tossed with crunchy vegetables, grilled shrimp, and a subtle sesame finish](/uploads/img_0962.jpeg "Tomotachi Sushi yaki noodles")

Now, we do have to talk about price. Compared to some of the sub-$20 strip mall gems we often feature, this meal came in at $65 before tip. It’s a noticeable jump. But with food inflation still hitting restaurants hard — and sushi being especially dependent on high-quality, fresh seafood — it’s not entirely surprising. When freshness is your priority, it shows up on the bill. It also shows up on the plate.

Kevin reflected on how many people in Western countries are first introduced to grocery store sushi, the pre-made trays that sit under bright lights. “It’s a night and day difference,” he said of freshly prepared sushi. The new owners, who are Korean, have kept their focus firmly on Japanese cuisine, aiming to offer flavours and quality comparable to what you’d find overseas. “The people here are super nice…for us the community itself they’re like the biggest reason why we’re able to keep a business here.”

That sense of care extended to our entire experience. Service was warm and attentive without being intrusive. The ambiance was relaxed and welcoming. And while it’s tempting to measure quality solely through authenticity — and dishes like the eel and nigiri certainly delivered on that front — doing so misses the point. The California roll was excellent. The noodles were comforting and bold. This meal was an explosion of flavour through simplicity, letting fresh ingredients do what they do best.

Yes, we left with our wallets a little lighter. But if you’re a fan of Japanese and Japanese-influenced cooking, Tomotachi Sushi is well worth the treat.

Tomotachi Sushi

I walked over to Vars & Java on one of those beautiful February days that feels warmer than it has any right to. The sun was out, the air deceptively mild, though we all know there are colder days ahead before spring properly settles in. Still, in Fredericton, you take those days when you can get them. Nolan and Meagan, who live just a few doors down from me, joined me for the outing. I’ve been meaning to visit for months. Living in Skyline Acres can sometimes feel like being in a bit of a café desert, so having a spot like this in walking distance is something of a godsend.

I arrived first and was greeted warmly by Irena and her daughter Julia, the mother-daughter duo behind the café. We recognized each other from previous visits, the kind of familiarity that already hints at the feel of the place. The café is bright and clean, with a handful of tables scattered throughout. In one corner there’s a small play area for kids, and along the walls you’ll find paintings for sale and little bits of art, including some in Polish—a nod to the owners’ heritage. A fridge sits across from the entrance, and just outside in the same strip mall is a small Middle Eastern grocery store (a lifesaver for those of us without cars, especially when fresh produce arrives on Thursdays) and a commercial samosa kitchen that also supplies Vars.

Across from the entrance is the counter, with the kitchen behind it. To the left, a glass case displays cakes, tarts and other desserts—cheesecakes lined up neatly, delicate pastries tempting you to try just one more thing. My eyes were wide. The space feels especially welcome in winter: bright, dotted with plants that give a much-needed boost of green while the world outside is still grey. The smell of coffee wafts from the counter and settles into everything.

The prices are refreshing. Paninis range from about $5 to $7.50. A latte is around $5. Desserts sit in the $4–5 range. A coffee, a panini and a slice of cake for under $20 is entirely possible here. Irena told me she wants to keep prices accessible to retain regulars. In our experience, the first year of a new food business is often the best time to visit—there’s an energy to attracting new customers, a desire to make every plate count.

Julia, a UNB student taking a gap year, and her mother Irena opened in June 2025. It’s been eight months. “It’s been good. It’s growing. More and more people are finding out about our place,” Julia told me. They’ve been adjusting slowly, adding sandwiches as they tested the market and saw what the neighbourhood wanted. Having lived in Skyline Acres for years, running the café has allowed them to see it with new eyes. “The connecting with the neighbours has been great,” Julia said. In fact, she told me they’ve gotten to know more people in these past eight months than in the previous eight years living here. Both she and her mother have worked in service before, and they value the face-to-face interactions. “It’s a lot more personal,” she said. “It’s kind of like a mom and pop feel.”

Their story stretches further back. Originally from northeastern Poland, they later moved to England, and then immigrated to Canada in 2018—their second time starting over in a new country. They decided to leave England after Brexit, noticing a shift in attitudes towards foreigners, particularly those from Central and Eastern Europe. The café’s name is a playful nod to Poland’s capital, Warszawa (pronounced var-SHAH-vah), with “Java” added for a bit of coffee-fuelled wordplay.

Most of their customers are Canadians from a range of backgrounds, so the menu leans toward familiar North American favourites—paninis, cheesecakes, tarts—while still offering Polish treats like szarlotka. Many of their cakes are Polish, and there’s shortbread as a nod to their years in the UK. It’s a quiet weaving together of places they’ve called home.

![Their top seller for a reason—creamy cheesecake topped with caramel and cashews, where the cashews add an interesting consistency, and it’s simply amazing](/uploads/img_0929.jpeg "Vars & Java Cafe caramel cashew cheesecake")

We ordered a few things to share. The pesto panini arrived first, the bread crisp and golden, giving way to sharp, melted cheese. The pesto was garlicky and bright, the basil fresh, everything working together in that simple but satisfying way that makes you wonder why you’d order anything else. It was, simply put, great.

The traditional apple pie—szarlotka—came dusted with sugar. It wasn’t overly sweet, which I appreciated. The texture is softer than a typical North American pie, almost reminiscent of a date square, and that English translation of “apple pie” doesn’t quite capture how distinct it is from what we might expect. Having had the real deal in Poland, I can say this version holds its own.

We also tried the caramel cashew cheesecake, one of their best sellers. The chocolate element leaned slightly dark, not too rich, balanced by a creaminess that didn’t overwhelm. Nolan declared the cheesecake his favourite—though I’ll admit I’m a sucker for cheesecake in any form. Meagan, for her part, loved the apple slice but honestly liked all three things. It’s that kind of place: hard to pick just one.

![Crispy bread, sharp melted cheese and garlicky fresh basil pesto come together in a simple, satisfying sandwich](/uploads/img_0930.jpeg "Vars & Java Cafe pesto panini")

When I asked about the future, Irena told me she wants to grow the business into a small, welcoming café where people can meet and spend time together, where it’s all about connecting and having a good time. The little kids’ area is part of that vision. It’s about building a community hub.

Vars & Java is exactly the kind of place this blog seeks out. Suburban landscapes aren’t always the prettiest or the most walkable. There isn’t much foot traffic. But look between the houses and strip malls and you might find gems like this—family-run spots bringing some of the best treats in Fredericton to neighbourhoods that need them most. In the middle of winter, in a bright room filled with plants and the smell of coffee, the winter blues don’t stand much of a chance.

Vars & Java Cafe

I walk into Thai Manao on a Thursday just after 5 p.m., the sun already starting to dip behind the buildings that line this stretch of uptown Fredericton. The restaurant sits tucked between big chain spots in a strip mall, the kind of place you might drive past without a second thought, but the smell hits immediately when I open the door — savoury, peppery, unmistakably promising. Inside, apart from me, it looks like the owners and their family are gathered around a table beneath a TV quietly showing golf, cooking meat on a tabletop gas barbecue. The scene instantly reminds me of Korean and northeastern Chinese barbecue joints I’ve spent a lot of time in back in Ontario. The dining room itself is modest: three booths, two tables, high ceilings that hint at an industrial past, paper lanterns hanging overhead, and floor-to-ceiling blinds covering half the walls.

I’m greeted warmly by the server and, after doing a bit of online homework, I ask her what to order from the “Very Chinese Menu” section. Without hesitation, she recommends the black pepper beef, the green bean stir-fry, and the family-style tofu stir-fry. I file the last two away for future visits and order the black pepper beef. While I’m waiting, one of my professors walks in and mentions this is one of her favourite spots in town for chicken Penang curry — another mental note made. 

When the food arrives, it’s still sizzling, literally boiling hot, and I’m warned to give it a moment. I’m hungry enough that I start with small sips of water from a steel tumbler — for reasons I can’t fully explain, I love drinking from steel cups — and begin cautiously nibbling. The beef comes piled with onions and crisp bell peppers, glossy with sauce. The first bite lands exactly where you want it to: the beef is tender, the black pepper announces itself slowly, and everything works beautifully with the rice. Before long, I’m fully committed, scooping up mouthfuls of sauce with rice, appreciating the crunch of the vegetables and the freshness that comes through in every bite. It’s the kind of dish that wraps around you, especially on a winter evening, and doesn’t let go.

![Sizzling, pepper-forward and deeply comforting, with tender beef and crisp vegetables that demand to be scooped up with rice](/uploads/img_0862.jpeg "Thai Manao black pepper beef")

At some point, a couple walks in and the owner greets them with hugs, saying they haven’t seen them in forever. Watching the interaction, it’s clear that for Gina, Thai Manao has grown into something far beyond a business. It’s a place where her children have grown up, where regulars drop in not just to eat but to reconnect, a small hub of community life hidden in plain sight.

Gina tells me the restaurant opened in March 2013. It began strictly as a Thai restaurant, but she explains that the local market wasn’t familiar with authentic Thai food at the time, so to keep the doors open they expanded the menu to include Chinese dishes as well. She notes that across much of Asia, stir-frying is foundational, and with the right chef, it’s possible to do both well. She’s originally from Dongbei, a region in northeastern China known for its bold, distinctive cuisine, something we chat about briefly as she moves between tables.

“We try to make the food the way it’s supposed to be and also we do a lot of gluten free items because there are many people who are starting to have gluten issues,” she says. Every dish goes through the staff first before it ever reaches the menu, and over the years, she’s come to know many of her long-term customers by name. “I know most of my long term customers and some of them come every week and some of them come every month and this is one of their stops when they’re in town.”

Fredericton, she tells me, has been home for over 20 years now. She originally moved here from B.C. to attend UNB after arriving in Canada from China, and the small-city rhythm stuck. The restaurant even has an upstairs party room with long folding tables and karaoke, a space that’s used during Lunar New Year and other festivals, when members of Fredericton’s Chinese community gather to celebrate together.

You could easily walk next door to one of the big chains and get a meal for less. But the authentic Chinese menu at Thai Manao is the real draw here, and the truth is that quality costs money. Some of the dishes hover in the $25 to $30 range, but you’re almost guaranteed leftovers, and more importantly, you’re getting food that’s stood the test of time. I’ve always been a bit wary of pan-Asian restaurants, where trying to please everyone often leads to watered-down flavours. Thai Manao is an exception. Even with dishes spanning parts of China and Southeast Asia — and Korean barbecue on the horizon — Gina stays rooted in what she knows. The result is a place where you hear the joy in her voice as she greets regulars, feel momentarily folded into the fabric of the community, and leave with a very full, very happy belly.

Thai Manao

Claudine’s Eatery sits on Dundonald Street in a space that immediately feels lived-in, the kind of place that’s been busy for years and plans to stay that way. We walk in to warm wooden panelling and a room that’s humming at 2 p.m. on a Saturday, every one of the dozen-plus tables spoken for.

I’m joined by Joel and Reeves. Joel, who’s been here before, is greeted like a regular, which feels right for a restaurant that clearly runs on familiarity as much as food, and it’s quickly apparent that a reservation isn’t optional here. A chalkboard menu hangs on the wall, the space stretching out further than you’d expect, somehow managing to feel large and cozy at the same time. There’s an island-style hub in the middle where servers orbit efficiently and a counter at the back framing the kitchen. I later learn this was once a gym, and the transformation into a restaurant with this much warmth is impressive in its own quiet way.

Claudine’s Eatery describes itself as East Coast comfort food, family owned and operated by a mother-and-daughter duo, and that ethos comes through almost immediately. This isn’t fast food, and it isn’t trying to be clever. It’s food that’s meant to take care of you. The restaurant moved to this south side location just before the pandemic, after years on the north side, which in hindsight sounds like terrible timing. Claudine tells me they made it through by doing a lot of takeout, including Caesars, and by leaning on a loyal customer base that didn’t disappear when things got hard. 

![Perfectly poached eggs and warm English muffins at Claudine’s Eatery, the kind of breakfast that keeps people coming back week after week](/uploads/img_0842.jpeg "Claudine's Eatery eggs benedict")

At the table, we debate the buttermilk fried chicken benedict for a moment, but I land on the classic benedict breakfast with soft eggs and ham. I upgrade the home fries to beans, fully intending to steal from my friends’ plates when theirs arrive because the home fries look excellent. When my dish hits the table, the care is immediately obvious. The meat is deeply flavourful, the eggs spill open like golden lava, and the beans are exactly what you want them to be, sweet and salty and clearly not an afterthought. This is food made by people who want you to enjoy it. Joel and Reeves confirm that the home fries are well seasoned and doing exactly what home fries should do, and judging by how quickly their plates empty, there are no regrets at the table.

My breakfast comes in at around $20, and at Eat the Strip we care a lot about places that give you real value for your money. Claudine’s fits that bill comfortably. There are pricier items on the menu if you’re feeling indulgent, but you can also get a straightforward, satisfying breakfast for just over $15, which feels more than fair for the quality and generosity on the plate. Claudine herself stops by to chat after finishing her shift, smiling and relaxed, and tells me a bit about her path here. She’s Acadian, originally from northern New Brunswick, moved to Fredericton, worked as a waitress, and eventually decided to open a restaurant with her daughter. People ask her all the time to open locations elsewhere in the province, especially given how legendary their breakfasts have become, but she laughs it off and says she’s thinking more about eventually slowing down than expanding. Given how full the room is and how content everyone looks, it’s hard to argue with that instinct.

Claudine's Eatery

Situated on Regent Street, not far from CBC Fredericton, Yassou Souvlaki & Donair sits in a familiar strip mall alongside a barbershop, a grocery store, and a handful of other small businesses. It’s the kind of place you might pass a dozen times without thinking much about it — until you finally step inside and realize it’s been quietly feeding Fredericton for decades.

I arrive on a Monday just before lunchtime, and there’s an easy, casual spirit in the air. The walls are painted a classic Greek blue, accented with paintings of iconic Mediterranean islands. Sunlight pours in through the large front window, bouncing off a clean, no-nonsense dining room with about a dozen wooden tables. A small board near the counter lists featured dishes — calamari, cheesecake, saganaki — alongside a few higher-end plates that hint this place does more than just wraps and plates.

I’m warmly greeted as soon as I walk in and offered a seat at the counter. The kitchen is open-concept, and I can see pita warming on the griddle as orders roll in. It’s immediately clear this is a place of regulars. About half a dozen customers are chatting comfortably, and several older folks are greeted by name. There’s an ease to it all, the kind of familiarity that only comes from years of consistency.

![A warm, overstuffed donair with crispy-edged meat and creamy tzatziki wrapped in soft pita](/uploads/img_0763.jpeg "Yassou Souvlaki & Donair donair ")

I settle in and order the lunchtime special: a donair with tzatziki, served with a small Greek salad. The lunch specials run from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and are all priced at $18 — solid value for a full, satisfying plate.

I bite into the salad first and it does exactly what a good Greek salad should do: wakes up the appetite. It’s crunchy, fresh, and well seasoned, dressed generously with olive oil, onions, and herbaceous notes that lean toward sumac. A large block of feta sits on top, easily crumbling under the pressure of my fork. A few bites in, I’m ready for the main event.

The donair doesn’t disappoint. The meat is savoury and deeply flavourful, with crispy edges and a juicy interior. The tzatziki is cool, creamy, and balanced, tying everything together without overwhelming the meat. The pita is warm and soft with just enough structure to hold everything together — though I still manage to bite into it clumsily, clearly too hungry to be careful. The table next to me comments on how good it looks as I eat, which feels like the highest form of validation.

![A fresh, crunchy Greek salad dressed with olive oil and topped with a generous block of feta to kick things off](/uploads/img_0761.jpeg "Yassou Souvlaki & Donair Greek salad")

Yassou has a long history in Fredericton. The restaurant originally opened in 1992, later changing its name to Yassou in 2007. The current owners, Charbel and Elias, took over in 2019. Charbel, who entered the food business in 1998 and came to Canada in 2011, speaks with quiet pride about the place.

They’ve weathered a lot over the years, including the pandemic, which forced many restaurants to close. Reflecting on their loyal customer base and the restaurant’s survival, Charbel simply says, “We’re blessed.”

While Yassou is rooted in Greek staples, the owners’ Lebanese background has subtly shaped the menu over time. They’ve added items like falafel, hummus, shawarma chicken, and calamari, expanding the offering without losing the heart of what people come here for. One of their top recommendations is the combo plate, which pairs donair meat with pork souvlaki — a best-of-both-worlds situation.

The donair meat itself is a point of pride, made with a blend of beef and lamb that gives it depth and richness without being heavy.

Yassou isn’t flashy. It doesn’t need to be. It’s a neighbourhood staple built on regulars, familiarity, and food that hits exactly where it should. Sometimes, that’s more than enough.

Yassou Souvlaki & Donair

I walk into the mall and follow the scent, letting it guide me down a hallway to an industrial-style space across from the Riverview Ford Lincoln, where two women greet me warmly. One of them, Omowale—also known as Moe—runs the place, and her friend helps out behind the counter. The room is simple but clean, a Christmas tree tucked by the entrance, a few tables lining the space, and stools along small ledges on either side. At the back, the kitchen is large but quiet; both women are behind the counter, lifting the lids off buffet-style trays to reveal sizzling curries and glistening fried rice, steam curling into the air and carrying rich, inviting aromas that make it impossible not to take notice.

Moe tells us about their Thursday menu as we decide what to order. I settle on the ofada rice despite their warning that it’s spicy, and Marc goes for the jollof rice. They laugh when I insist I’m up for the heat, and the gentle clink of pots and pans is accompanied by Christmas music, adding a curious festive backdrop to what is clearly home-cooked comfort.

The ofada rice arrives piled high on plates, smoky and fiery, with chunks of beef and tender tripe that immediately feel familiar and grounding. The beans are perfectly cooked, and the palm oil lends a nutty, rich flavour that soaks into every bite. Each mouthful is packed with warmth and depth, and despite the generous portion, I can’t stop eating. Marc’s jollof rice has a beautifully balanced BBQ-like seasoning and is clearly made with care. While both dishes are more than enough for two meals, Marc jokes that his plate could easily feed three.

![Smoky, fiery, and bursting with flavor, this Nigerian ofada rice—served with tender beef, tripe, and perfectly cooked beans in a nutty palm oil sauce—delivers comfort and heat in every unforgettable bite](/uploads/img_0490.jpeg "Moe's Delicacies ofada rice")

Across from us, a diner has ordered jollof rice with sauce and fish—a combination we make a note to try next time. It’s clear that while the jollof is satisfying, the ofada rice steals the show.

Moe shares the story of the business, from catering for five years to opening the brick-and-mortar location in February. “We took the plunge and we have never regretted it,” she says. Her food draws African and non-African customers alike, and even staff from the nearby NB Power office stop by—not just for jollof, but for other traditional dishes like yam porridge, her favourite, made fresh on Fridays.

Originally from Lagos, Moe moved to Fredericton in 2018 through the provincial nomination program. She worked in HR and government in New Brunswick, but cooking has always been her passion. “The more people eat my food…it’s creating this kind of bond,” she says. She began her catering business during the heart of COVID, delivering meals to hotel rooms when people couldn’t go out. For her, community is paramount. “Whoever you are, try to build a strong relationship,” she says.

Her secret is attention to detail, passion, and the same care she would put into a meal at home. “We cook the way that we will cook it in our home,” she says. Looking ahead, Moe hopes to expand her delicacies to other cities in New Brunswick and eventually beyond.

Moe’s Delicacies delivers traditional Nigerian dishes that meet every expectation. The ofada rice, in particular, is a revelation, but adventurous eaters should explore the menu beyond jollof rice—even if it means sampling beef with offal. Portions are generous, flavours are bold, and the warmth of the counter is palpable. Prices sit around $35 per dish, which may be steep if you’re budget-conscious, but the story, portions, and taste more than justify the visit. We left already planning our return—especially for the yam porridge, Moe’s favourite, and ours too soon.

Moe's Delicacies

I take the bus into the south end of the city and walk the last five minutes into the industrial park on Hubbard, the kind of spot where garages and shipping depots cluster in long rows, quiet in the cooling light of a Friday evening. Maissa sits tucked between them, unassuming from the outside, but the second I step through the door I’m met by a wave of warmth. Abdenour greets me with a smile big enough to feel like sunlight, and to the right the counter is lined with trays of kalb el louz and baklava behind glass, bright and sticky under the lights. On the left, half a dozen tables sit beneath green walls dotted with images of stone streets and houses from a casbah—worn stairways, old masonry, corners that feel lived-in. When I mention I’ve actually visited his region, Kabylie, the whole staff lights up. They laugh, shake my hand, shake it again. There’s a kind of joy in the room that doesn’t need explaining.

My friend Marc arrives a few minutes later by car, and we settle into a table near a massive TV showing a soccer match, the green of the pitch blending with the green of the walls. The effect is strange and transportive: for a moment, I’m not in an industrial park in Fredericton at all, but back in the cafés of Algiers or Tizi Ouzou, where the noise is friendly and the service is generous in ways that make you sit a little easier.

Abdenour tells us he opened Maissa in the first week of November this year, naming it after his 10-month-old daughter. He says it’s the first Algerian restaurant in New Brunswick. Before this, he ran a shipping company in Edmundston—something he still does. Before that, he arrived in Canada in 2021, lived in Montréal, worked in restaurants, studied, cooked, learned, kept moving. And before all of that, back in Algeria, he was a lawyer—something he mentions almost casually, like it’s a detail from someone else’s life. His mum cooked, he says. Algerians are proud people. He tells me he wanted to present his culture, and that everything here is made at home.

The coffee arrives before the meal—dark, strong, the kind that hits the palate with intention. Marc orders the Algerian shawarma and I go for the couscous, and while we wait we talk about Fredericton. He chose this city because it’s the capital and because, unlike Moncton, there’s no real competition for North African cuisine. There are plenty of people who look for those flavours, he says, and he can serve that community here. The first 10 days were tough—quiet, slow—but then people started coming. Now he talks about the future with a hopeful kind of practicality, wondering aloud if one day the place could grow, maybe even become a franchise.

The food arrives in generous plates. Marc bites into his shawarma and raises his eyebrows immediately. I try a piece, and he’s right: it’s different. Creamier, crispier, unmistakably not the Levantine style you see everywhere else. There’s cheese in it, heat in the sauce—sauce algérienne, that ubiquitous blend you find all over France and North Africa—and fries that are golden, crisp, and far too easy to keep picking at. Marc calls it the best shawarma he’s had in Fredericton, and I agree without hesitation. At just over eleven dollars, it’s a steal.

![A creamy, crispy, cheesy shawarma paired with a warm, home-style couscous where subtle spices let the natural flavours lead](/uploads/img_0423.jpeg "Maissa Burger couscous")

My couscous is the kind of homey and warming dish that feels like it was made by someone cooking for family. The chicken is flavourful, the spices are subtle, the steam rising from the plate smells like comfort rather than showmanship. Eighteen dollars feels like a fair price for something this grounding. Still, I keep glancing back at that shawarma, thinking about what I’ll order next time, already plotting my return.

When we finish eating, full and happy and still nibbling at the fries we swore we were done with, Abdenour brings over complimentary mint tea and offers us baklava and kalb el louz, each piece rich and syrupy enough to stand up to the coffee. Everything is homemade, everything feels tied to family and place.

We pay less than 40 dollars total and leave with leftovers, stepping back into the industrial park with mint still lingering on our tongues. Maissa may be tucked into a quiet corner of the city, but it’s the kind of spot that stays with you long after you leave—warm, generous, and shaped by someone proudly sharing a piece of home.

Maissa Burger

We pull into the quiet commercial pocket on Urquhart Crescent about half an hour before closing, classic form for us. It’s a warm Saturday afternoon, sun catching in the dust above the parking lot, and as soon as we step inside, the room opens up in lime green. Murals stretch across the walls in soft florals and warm yellows, the kind of artwork that immediately softens your shoulders. Isa pauses and says the mural is beautiful, pointing out the flowers and light scattered across it. The whole space feels lived-in, personal, like someone invited you into the warmest part of their home.

Inside the glass case sit a few desserts, including a brownie cheesecake we briefly mistake for a Nanaimo bar. Two small tables run along the windows where the sun pours in. Farther back, more tables and a row of stools line the wall. The menu on the wall isn’t up to date, so we grab the paper menus at our table. Most things are under fifteen dollars, and when I see the bannock breakfast sandwich, the choice is made. The Cranberries are playing, followed by that familiar strum of The Weight, and the mix of nostalgia and sunlight and lime-green paint gives the place a strange comfort, bright, airy, and somehow already familiar.

Jenna’s Nut-Free Dessertery began with just two folding tables at the Fredericton Boyce Farmers’ Market back in 2019. A few years later, they moved into this brick-and-mortar spot on Urquhart Crescent, still sourcing much of their produce from that same market. The origins feel close to the surface here, local, scrappy, and shaped by the rhythm of the community rather than the demands of a trend.

Lexi works the front, and in the kitchen is Sage, who has been here for over a year. We chat between orders, and Sage explains that the customers are what make the place special. “Out of every spot in Fredericton we have the best customers,” says Sage. “We count everyone here as family.” There’s talk of the doors Jenna has opened and the culinary opportunities that didn’t exist before. “It’s been rather awesome working here alongside all these guys.” Waffles are a favourite, and the BLT is called the most underrated item, with the burger described as a reliable choice. From the front, Lexi offers their own picks: the eggs Benedict, the chicken panini, and the gravy for the poutine.

The bannock breakfast sandwich comes out warm and buttery, the bread soft with that gentle pull bannock has when it’s been treated with care. The sausage is mildly spiced, cheesy in the right places, the flavours nesting into each other without fighting for attention. The home fries come as a surprise bonus, an add-on I don’t regret for a second, crisp edges, peppery, not burned, not drenched in salt, the kind of fries you keep picking at long after you should stop. Marc digs into his plate. Isa lets me steal a bite of their eggs Benedict, and the yolk runs down in a perfect ribbon. It’s balanced, rich, and bright, the kind of Benedict that sneaks up on you as one of the best in the city.

![Warm, buttery bannock wrapped around sausage, egg, and cheese for a comforting, homey start to the day](/uploads/img_0319.jpeg "Jenna's Nut-Free Dessertery Inc bannock breakfast sandwich")

There’s a quiet rhythm to the room, regulars coming in from nearby offices, families dropping by, people looking for something good without driving all the way downtown. The atmosphere sinks into you slowly, clean, colourful, warm, and honest. The kind of place where you feel welcome on your first visit and like a regular on your second.

Later in the conversation, Sage describes the place as feeling like home and says they hope first-time visitors enjoy their meal at least a little. The sentiment fits the room. There is an easy warmth here, shaped not by décor or messaging but by the people working behind the counter and the regulars who keep returning.

By the time we gather our things, the light has shifted and the music has changed again, but the feeling sticks: a small, tucked-away gem in an industrial strip, built on family, community, and food made with genuine care. It’s the kind of spot where breakfast feels less like a meal and more like a gesture. Come here for the morning comfort. It’s worth it.

Jenna's Nut-Free Dessertery Inc

Freddy Bean Roasters sits in a quiet commercial plaza on Wilsey Road, a few minutes down from Maybee Brewing Company—a good spot to grab a lager on a warm afternoon. Inside, sunlight fills the space. Jazz hums softly through the speakers, framed comic book covers line the walls, and a few small tables sit beneath a row of leafy plants on the window sills. The wood-panelled counter up front is dotted with cookies and Halloween décor, giving the place a cozy, lived-in feel.

Jeremy MacFarlane greets us from his office just off to the left as we step inside. After we take a spot, a regular walks up to the counter to chat with Jeremy like they’ve known each other for years. It’s quiet, green with plants, and calm in the kind of way only small cafés can be.

We order the turkey sandwich on ciabatta and the breakfast bagel. The turkey sandwich comes out first—a hefty one. Layers of turkey, cheddar, maple mayo, bacon bits, lettuce, tomato, salt, and pepper, all pressed into a toasted ciabatta. The bacon adds a perfect salty touch, the mayo ties it all together, and the sandwich feels like it could fuel you through a workday. At first glance, nearly $10 might seem steep, but once you see the size, it makes sense. It’s a proper meal.

![The turkey sandwich, stacked tall with cheddar, maple mayo, and bacon bits on toasted ciabatta](/uploads/img_0263.jpeg "Freddy Bean Roasters turkey sandwich")

The bagel follows, warm and soft, doughy in the best possible way. The cheese and ham melt together under a fried egg, the spinach adding a clean crunch, and a faint hint of jalapeño rounding things off with a little heat. It’s rich, comforting, and gone too fast.

Between customers, Jeremy joins us for a chat. Tattooed, relaxed, and smiling, he talks about how he started roasting after more than a decade of twelve- to sixteen-hour shifts. “Might as well be for myself,” he says. Coffee had always been his thing, so he began roasting at home in 2017, later finding a niche in barrel-aged coffee—beans aged in whiskey oak barrels before roasting. The result isn’t boozy, he explains, but subtle: you get the whiskey at the finish, with a trace of oak and char that complements the coffee rather than overpowering it.

His beans come mostly from Latin America, with a touch of Indian robusta added for blends. Over time, Freddy Bean evolved—first through markets, then home deliveries during the pandemic. Jeremy says he hates to admit it, but that period was when business really took off. With in-person markets closed, they quickly shifted to home-based delivery, and it worked. “We actually thrived,” he says.

At some point they bought The Tipsy Muse Café downtown, which still runs today. The roaster operation moved here, to 385 Wilsey Road, in October 2024. It’s now their main production space for roasting, bottling cold brew, and handling online and wholesale orders.

The café’s food menu is simple—a pared-down version of what’s served at the Muse—but everything is locally sourced. Jeremy’s proud of that, even if he downplays it. He laughs when I suggest he’s become a bit of a local fixture. “I’m a dude that makes coffee,” he says.

But that undersells what’s happening here. He’s building something solid, quietly and with purpose. When he talks about the struggles—coffee prices climbing, inflation cutting into margins, shortages of shipping containers—it’s with the matter-of-fact tone of someone who’s seen worse and kept going. He’s focused now on rebuilding his online and wholesale market, getting Freddy Bean’s name back out there, and maybe one day expanding beyond Fredericton.

I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I can taste why people come back. The brew is balanced, smooth, and rich, with that faint whiskey-oak finish he mentioned. There’s patience in it. Pride. Freddy Bean Roasters might be a roastery first, but it’s also a small, welcoming café where the food stands on its own—simple, generous, and clearly made with care.

Come for the coffee, stay for the breakfast sandwich. And if you drink it black, you’ll make the coffee guru Jeremy extra happy.

Freddy Bean Roasters

It’s a cloudy afternoon when Marc and I pull into the Exhibition Grounds. The air smells of sizzling meat and sesame oil drifting across the lot, and the sky hangs low enough to blur the tops of the barns. We get there just before 2 p.m., in time to snag an order of jeyuk before it sells out. Marc goes for the dakgalbi.

Shed No. 2 is where the action is, home to a small place called Korean Kitchen. It’s easy to miss unless you know what you’re looking for—an old shed that’s been transformed into a kitchen. Inside, it’s tight quarters—two burners, a counter, a small fridge, and Sunhi herself, smiling through the steam as she works the grill. The pork sizzles as she moves quickly, tossing it with noodles and vegetables, the air thick with sesame and gochujang.

We talk as she cooks. Originally from Seoul, she’s been in Fredericton since 2007. She started out on the north side market circuit before moving to this spot during COVID. Ten years now between both sides of the river, building a steady following. “It’s a small city so most of the people are connected,” she says. “Most of the customers are regular customers.” She tells us she keeps the prices low—everything under fifteen dollars—and the menu tight because space is limited. Three days a week, open year-round, even in winter. Cash or e-transfer only.

When our food’s ready, we take it outside to one of the picnic tables scattered around the lot. Cars hum by on Smythe Street. The city and the exhibition board are still fighting over what to do with the grandstand—whether to tear it down or preserve it—but out here, that noise feels far away. Sunhi’s food is its own quiet argument for what’s worth keeping.

The jeyuk is bright and balanced. The pork is tender, the vegetables still crisp, the heat from the sauce deep rather than sharp. She’s given me half rice, half japchae noodles, a combination that works beautifully—the chew of glass noodles soaking up the gochujang while the rice keeps everything grounded. There’s spinach, broccoli, bell pepper, and just enough sesame seed to make it pop. I find myself slowing down near the end, not because I’m full but because I don’t want to be finished. Marc’s dakgalbi is just as good, all smoky chicken and tangy spice. He taps his fork on the plate and says, simply, “10 out of 10,” before packing half of it up to take home.

![Tender pork stir-fried with japchae noodles, rice, and crisp vegetables in a rich gochujang sauce](/uploads/img_0162.jpeg "Korean Kitchen jeyuk")

There’s a constant buzz around the shed—people coming and going, ordering takeout, eating at the tables or in their cars. We chat with Sunhi while she prepares food, her hands moving quickly as she talks about her life here. She likes Fredericton. “It used to be really quiet,” she says. “Now it’s getting busier but it’s still a good place for raising kids.” Her husband is still in Korea, and her grown kids are in Toronto. She hopes to move closer to them one day, but for now she’s here, running this little kitchen that’s become part of the city’s weekend rhythm.

We finish our meal as a breeze rolls through, stirring the napkins on the table. The lot feels strangely peaceful—just the clatter of utensils from another picnic table, the hum of a generator, the faint aroma of gochujang in the air. Around us, debate continues about the future of this place: the grandstand, the barns, the land itself. But Sunhi isn’t part of that argument. She’s just here, cooking with care, connecting people through food the way she’s always done.

So go now, while you can. Bring cash, bring a friend, and eat under the open sky surrounded by traffic and horses and politics. Shed No. 2 might not look like much, but inside, it holds a decade of quiet dedication and some of the best Korean food you’ll find anywhere in the city. We’re lucky to have it—for now.

Korean Kitchen 

Some places announce themselves with neon signs and sleek branding. PJ’s Wings and Things does it with the smell of smoked meat and fryer oil drifting into the parking lot. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t need to shout to be heard—just a steady stream of regulars, a deck full of chatter, and a reputation built one perfectly crisped wing at a time.

It’s a bright Sunday in October when Marc and I pull into the lot, sun bouncing off windshields and the scent of smoked meat drifting into the breeze. We walk into a compact, inviting space filled with British memorabilia—photos of kings, cheeky signage, old awards from competitions past. Above the wood-panelled counter, a sign reads “The Sauce is Always Boss.” A young staffer greets us and confirms what we suspected: the wings and fish and chips are their most popular items. We order 12 Cajun Buffalo wings and the fish and chips, then take our buzzer and head back outside.

The patio is alive. Groups are seated across the deck, sipping cider from the neighbouring taproom, waiting for food, catching up, soaking in the fall sun. Orders are flying out the door, and it’s clear this place has earned its regulars. Beside us, two large smokers release gentle puffs of aromatic smoke into the air, adding to the growing hunger. Every time a buzzer goes off, heads turn, hoping it’s theirs. Ours finally buzzes, and it’s game time.

The fish and chips arrive first—a single 7-ounce fillet, golden and crisp, served the proper British way. The batter is light but structured, holding together just long enough to reveal the flaky white fish inside. No gimmicks, no unnecessary twists—just solid fish, done right, served hot, with a side of tartare sauce that actually adds something. It’s the kind of plate that makes you nod after every bite.

But I have to admit: the wings surprised me. I don’t usually seek them out, but these had me reconsidering. The Cajun Buffalo sauce hits that sweet spot between heat and flavour—spicy enough to notice, but not enough to numb your mouth. The skin is crisp without being crunchy, and when dipped in PJ’s house-made ranch, the combination is borderline addictive. There’s balance here: heat, cool, fat, crunch—all in the right places. You can tell the sauces are made in-house; PJ’s White Sauce, in particular, is so popular that customers apparently buy it by the cup. On Wednesdays, they go through entire jugs of it.

![PJ’s Cajun Buffalo wings bring the heat and the crunch, perfectly balanced with house-made ranch that regulars swear by](/uploads/pjs_buffalowings.jpeg "PJ's Wings an Things Cajun Buffalo wings")

Owner Peter Jones tells me this all started with a market stall, then a food truck, before eventually landing here. “We’ve been busy as hell,” he says, and it’s easy to believe. Born in Portsmouth, Peter came to Canada when he was seven, went back to the UK as a teenager, and brought back a piece of that culinary tradition with him. The fish is caught in Norway and delivered through a Moncton wholesaler. Now, he’s got a tight crew—nine people, including Cameron on the front lines and longtime part-timers like Steve. Most of the team has been with him for years, which says a lot.

![Golden, flaky, and unapologetically classic, PJ’s fish and chips are a masterclass in keeping things simple and right](/uploads/pjs_fishandchips.jpeg "PJ's Wings an Things fish and chips")

The space is tight, and Peter admits it: “It would be nice to have a bigger spot. We’re limited here.” Maybe one day they’ll expand, add more seating, or even bottle their sauces. For now, though, they’re making the most of what they’ve got—and doing it really well.

Going to PJ’s feels like stopping by a friend’s place—if your friend happens to be a master of wings and knows how to fry a mean piece of fish. It’s casual, unpretentious, and deeply satisfying. My fish and chips ran me about eighteen bucks. The wings were sixteen. Could you get wings for cheaper elsewhere? Probably. But this kind of quality, with this kind of care, isn’t as easy to find.

And when you’re done, don’t forget to swing by York County Cider next door. A crisp pint on a sunny patio is the perfect way to finish off a meal like this.

Places like PJ’s are exactly what Eat the Strip is about—reminders that just off the main roads, in the most unremarkable-looking spots, you can find something completely worth the detour.

PJ's Wings an Things

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were bowling a Wednesday league, grabbing beers with friends, or grew up on Fredericton’s North Side. But tucked just off Main Street, behind a wide façade that once promised little more than coffee and candlepin, sits a place that’s slowly turning into one of the city’s best-kept burger secrets. It’s called The Drome—and it might just be serving one of the best smash burgers in town.

It’s a rainy October afternoon, the kind that has you reaching for a good book or a warm meal. I take the bus, hop off a few blocks early, and walk the last stretch to what was once the Bowl-a-Drome—a fixture in the city since 1961. These days, it’s been revived by the folks at Trailway Brewing, who’ve turned it into something more: part bowling alley, part craft beer hangout, part neighbourhood diner. Inside, it still feels like an old-school alley—but with a new spirit.

There are 12 lanes, but only two are in use when I arrive around 4:30 p.m. By the time an hour passes, about half of them are filled. The space is brighter than you’d expect—white walls, big windows, and vintage posters that nod to its history. A few steps down to the west end brings you to the heart of the food action: a cozy bar and kitchen where diners perch on stools, watching the bowlers roll strike after strike.

I order a double smash burger and a pint of Trailway lager. The total comes to just over $15, and I nearly double-check—surely it should be more? A single smash burger and fries would’ve run me around $10. It’s the kind of price that feels like a throwback in the best way.

The burger arrives on a steel plate that feels lifted straight out of a 1960s lunch counter. It’s hot, generous, and wrapped in a kind of minimalism that feels intentional. No tomato slipping out, no lettuce threatening to wilt—just beef, cheese, sauce, and pickles, stacked on a soft, golden bun. The smash is real: those lacy, crisp edges crackle slightly under each bite, while the interior stays juicy and flavourful. The sauce is tangy, with a hint of heat, and works as a perfect counterpoint to the brine of the pickles. A buttery brioche bun hugging two crisp-edged patties, melted cheese, pickles, and a smoky chipotle-style sauce—simple, juicy, and perfectly done.

![A buttery brioche bun hugging two crisp-edged patties, melted cheese, pickles, and a smoky chipotle-style sauce—simple, juicy, and perfectly done](/uploads/1946.png "The Drome by Trailway double smash burger")

Trailway’s lager is just as refreshing as I remember it—light but not boring, full of flavour but easy-drinking. It’s also a small reminder of how local this whole operation really is. Trailway’s original taproom is just a block away, and their fingerprints are all over The Drome. It’s not just a rebranding—it’s a revival. From beer to beef, a lot of what’s served here is made in-house, and what isn’t is bought from local suppliers. Even the spring roll wrappers, I’m told, are sourced locally. Clean, crisp, and deeply satisfying—a pint brewed just down the street that goes down smooth and pairs effortlessly with whatever’s on your plate.

![Clean, crisp, and deeply satisfying—a pint brewed just down the street that goes down smooth and pairs effortlessly with whatever’s on your plate](/uploads/img_0015.jpeg "The Drome by Trailway lager")

Behind the bar, Justin, a longtime league bowler turned full-time staffer, tells me: “Because we have the bowling and the beer—that’s why we can keep the prices low.” You can feel it—UNB women’s soccer players roll in for team bonding, league regulars file in one by one, and the kitchen cranks out takeout bags for folks who never bowled a frame.

I believe it. There’s something incredibly comforting about a place that doesn’t overdo it. The Drome isn’t trying to be trendy. It’s just doing things right. The menu is short and focused. The space is friendly. The value is unbeatable. And the fact that you can eat something this good for under $10? That’s a win. Add the fact that you’re sitting steps away from a 1960s bowling lane, and it starts to feel like something rare.

This is a place I’d come back to—on a Sunday afternoon with a book, on a Friday with friends, or any time I just wanted a burger that’s better than most, for a price that makes sense.

The Drome is a Fredericton institution with a new lease on life. Bowling or not, it’s worth checking out.

The Drome by Trailway

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were crossing the bridge into Devon, maybe heading to Canadian Tire or taking the long way home through Gibson Street. But on the corner of Gibson and Devon Avenue, tucked behind a red-painted exterior that’s seen better days, you’ll find a spot that feels like it’s been waiting for you for decades.

Joe’s Diner looks like it hasn’t changed since the 1950s—and I mean that in the best way. A simple sign says Joe’s Diner on top, and Tasty Homestyle Meals underneath. It’s not flashy, and it’s not trying to be. And that’s exactly what makes it special.

Inside, it’s even better.

There’s only one place to sit: an L-shaped wooden counter lined with stools, each one worn smooth from years of elbows, plates, and early morning coffee cups. At one end of the counter, there’s a classic, old-school cash register that still makes that satisfying cha-ching when rung.

It’s a weekday afternoon, around 2 p.m., and the regulars are already deep into their French toast and chocolate milk. My roommate Isa and I squeeze in near the corner and take in the space. The mugs along the back wall are old-fashioned and uniform, the kind you’d expect in a place that hasn’t changed much over the years. Behind the counter, a husband and wife work side by side—the scent of bacon, eggs, and something more unexpected filling the air.

Their names are Yoony and Sam, and they’ve owned Joe’s since 2010. Originally from just outside Seoul, they now run the diner themselves, with no extra staff and two sons away in Ontario. It’s clearly a grind—but you’d never guess it from their calm rhythm in the kitchen. Sam mans the flat top grill, flipping eggs and crisping bacon. Next to him, Yoony is tending two massive woks, flames licking the sides as she stirs vegetables and rice. Yes—woks.

Because alongside the classic diner fare, Joe’s serves something that might just make it one of the most interesting breakfast joints in the city: bibimbap.

We shared two dishes: the breakfast special and the bibimbap. At first glance, it feels like a mismatch—toast on one plate, sesame oil on the other—but here, it works. More than that, it makes sense.

![Two sunny-side-up eggs, crispy bacon, golden home fries with onions, and toast—the kind of breakfast you wake up early for](/uploads/img_9956.jpeg "Joe's Diner breakfast special ")

The breakfast is exactly what you want it to be. Two eggs, sunny-side up, with yolks perfectly runny and edges just crisp. The bacon is cooked to a salty crunch, not greasy, just right. The home fries are golden, with onions mixed in for a little sweetness and depth. Isa declares that “you can’t go wrong with fried potatoes and onions,” and they’re absolutely right. It’s the kind of breakfast that gets you through the day, and then some.

But then comes the bibimbap.

It arrives sizzling, colourful, and beautifully assembled. The beef is perfectly seasoned, tender and slightly caramelized around the edges. The vegetables—cabbage, mushrooms, onions, carrots—are sautéed until just soft, still bright, still full of flavour. It’s not overly fancy, just incredibly well done. There’s a generous drizzle of sesame oil, and the rice underneath is crisped just enough to give a little crunch in each bite. On top, there’s a fried egg with a gooey yolk, ready to be broken and stirred in.

![A sizzling bowl of beef, crisp vegetables, fried egg, and sesame oil—Korean comfort food served from the heart of a northside diner](/uploads/img_9957.jpeg "Joe's Diner bibimbap special")

And the hot sauce? It’s not your typical bottle of red heat. It has depth and spice, maybe Korean, maybe not—but definitely something different and worth using liberally. It pulls the whole thing together.

This isn’t fusion. This is evolution. Joe’s is still a diner. But it’s a diner that grew, adapted, and stayed true to what makes it great.

One Google reviewer calls Joe’s “a hidden gem for a great breakfast.” Another says it best on Reddit: “Something about having to sit next to people you don’t know and maybe have a conversation. Just more human.” And that’s what this place is. It’s food and comfort. It’s good conversation over better coffee. It’s classic breakfast with a second-generation twist.

Yoony and Sam aren’t trying to make Joe’s trendy. They’re just making good food, the way they know how, in a space that still feels like 1962—in the best possible way.

Our meal, split between two people, came to around $18 each. But if you’re flying solo, the breakfast runs about $12, and the portions are generous. Like, skip-lunch generous.

I already know I’ll be back—probably next weekend. Joe’s isn’t just a new favourite. It’s a reminder of what makes places like this special. A little old. A little new. A lot of heart.

And if you’re lucky enough to sit near the grill, don’t be surprised when the smell of bacon turns into sesame oil. That’s just Joe’s.

Joe's Diner

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were running errands down Regent Street, maybe picking up something quick before heading to UNB or St. Thomas. From the outside, Kadiwa Filipino Asian Grocery Store looks like any other corner shop on Fredericton’s south side. But step inside, and you’ll see why it’s not just a convenience store—it’s something far more special.

At first, you’re greeted by shelves of snacks, milk, and chips—your typical corner store fare. But off to the left, there’s a shift: six small tables, paper lanterns overhead, and a television playing a Tagalog language game show. A bright, handwritten menu rests above a small counter, where a cheerful man greets me with a nod and a smile. His name is Jessie. I tell him I’m here for the pancit batil patung, and he asks, “Dine in or take out?”

It’s not even a question. I want those noodles hot, the veggies crisp, and the egg yolk still runny. For $15, the menu promises a feast—and I’m hungry enough to test that.

Near my table, two diners dig into spring rolls and noodles, eyes bouncing between bites and the game show. The walls are a calming cream, accented by potted plants and a tidy, lived-in décor. A sign in front of the general menu catches my eye: all-day silog breakfast. Silog is a classic Filipino breakfast combo that typically includes garlic fried rice, a fried egg, and your choice of protein like tapa (beef), tocino (cured pork), or longganisa (Filipino sausage). I immediately make a mental note to return.

The food arrives, and it’s a knockout.

Pancit batil patung is a noodle dish from Tuguegarao City, in the northern Philippines. Originally made for tricycle drivers and manual labourers looking for something to keep them fuelled through the day, it’s a meal rooted in stamina and sustenance. Here in Fredericton, it’s still doing its job.

Thick egg noodles are stir-fried to just the right chew and tossed in a rich, meaty sauce. Ground beef, sautéed liver, and crisp chicharrón are piled high, with slabs of pork belly layered in like bricks in a wall. It’s unapologetically protein-forward, with the vegetables mostly serving as supporting actors. But the whole plate is crowned by a fried egg, and when I crack the yolk, it spills slowly down into the noodles, pulling everything together with a golden, fatty richness. It reminds me of a good nasi goreng—not because the flavour is the same, but because it does the same thing: it brings disparate textures and ingredients into harmony.

![A heaping plate of pancit batil patung—egg noodles topped with pork belly, chicharrón, and a fried egg, straight from northern Philippines to Fredericton’s south side](/uploads/img_9868.jpeg "Kadiwa Filipino Asian Grocery Store pancit batil patung")

There’s so much going on in this dish, and yet nothing feels out of place. I eat half, reluctantly stop, and still have enough left over for another full meal.

Afterwards, I talk with Jessie and Carmen, the husband-and-wife duo behind Kadiwa.

The restaurant opened on July 1st, though the food has been in the works much longer.

“We were doing ready-to-eat boxes before,” Carmen tells me. “Finger foods, mostly. But people wanted more.”

The pancit batil patung I just demolished? It’s Carmen’s father’s recipe, one she says he helped pioneer back home in Luzon. She tells me she’s bringing up a legacy.

They opened the restaurant not just to share food, but to keep something alive.

Their daughters are now part of the business—one helps in the kitchen, and the other is helping Carmen launch a small bakery inside the store. And while the demand is growing fast, Carmen is clear on one thing: “We don’t pre-cook anything. We cook fresh. That’s why sometimes it takes longer.”

If you’re in a rush? Call ahead. If you’re not? Settle in and enjoy the wait.

They’re open to feedback, open to suggestions, and more than anything, open-hearted. Carmen says Filipinos offer a lot of authentic food, and they want to share more of it.

What makes Kadiwa feel special isn’t just the food—it’s the sense that this place matters. That it’s part of something larger than just a lunch run. That a father’s recipe, carried across an ocean, is now feeding students, families, and the curious passersby who wander in for a can of pop and leave with something unforgettable.

Kadiwa Filipino Asian Grocery Store

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you wandered into the basement of a brown brick building just off York Street—one of those multi-use spots that looks more like a place you’d pick up a passport than a plate of food. But go down the stairs and you’ll find it: a bright, soulful space filled with Senegalese art, warm conversation, and the unmistakable aroma of something good being made with care. This is Food by Fatou, and if you’re lucky enough to stumble in, you won’t forget it.

It’s late morning on a September Saturday, and the restaurant is just coming to life. I’m met by Fatou’s brother, who greets me like I’ve been coming here for years. He lets me know she’s stepped out briefly to pick up a few ingredients and invites me to return shortly. Fifteen minutes later, I’m back, and this time Fatou herself welcomes me with a huge smile—and her brother hands me a chicken fataya, on the house. It’s a crisp, golden pastry stuffed with seasoned chicken and topped with a rich onion sauce—salty, warm, and gone in three bites. I haven’t even ordered yet and already I know I’ve found something special.

Fatou and her brother recommend the thieboudienne—Senegal’s national dish—and I follow their lead. I take a seat at one of the eight tables, just as a man walks in, mid-road trip from Newfoundland to Quebec. He lights up at the chance to order jollof rice. Sona Jobarteh plays softly from the speakers while Fatou and her brother move between two kitchens, preparing dish after dish. Around the space, Senegalese masks, murals, and potted plants give the room a lived-in, welcoming energy. Every customer is greeted with warmth and familiarity. This isn’t just a place to eat—it’s a place people come back to.

And then the thieboudienne arrives.

It’s a platter that demands respect. The fish, marinated and perfectly cooked, flakes apart with the gentlest nudge of a fork. A habanero kicks in with slow-building heat, balanced by a subtle tamarind sauce that offers just enough sweetness to round things out. Nestled alongside the rice are thick slices of yam, tender cabbage, carrots, and cassava—all of it soaking up the juices from the fish and sauce, each bite layered with flavour. There’s a complexity here that reminds me of biryani, or a good bouillabaisse—meals that tell stories and ask you to listen. You don’t rush through this. You sit with it. You savour it. You let it take you somewhere else.

![Thieboudienne — fish, shrimp, vegetables, and spice woven into a dish that tastes like West Africa on a plate](/uploads/img_9808.jpeg "Food by Fatou thieboudienne")

The spice creeps in, slowly at first, then all at once. My eyes water, and I laugh to myself. It’s the kind of heat that makes you feel alive. Next come the jumbo shrimp—plump, deeply seasoned, and cooked to perfection. There’s something ceremonial about it all. I find myself wishing I wasn’t eating alone. This is food meant to be eaten with others, with your hands, with laughter. It’s food for a table full of friends you haven’t met yet.

Fatou tells me she opened this space in 2023, but she’s been cooking for much longer. She learned from her mother back in Samone, Senegal, and every dish she makes connects her to that past. “When I cook, I’m happy,” she says, her smile widening as she shares stories of her family and her journey. She moved to Canada in 2009 and spent years as a stay-at-home mother before launching her food business. About moving to Fredericton, she says, “At first it was difficult. Now I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

She sources her spices from Senegal and Montreal, blending them herself to maintain the flavours she grew up with. For Fatou, staying true to her culinary heritage isn’t just about ingredients—it’s about memory, identity, and ensuring the flavours carry through in every bite.

Fredericton isn’t exactly teeming with Senegalese restaurants. But even if it were, Food by Fatou would still stand out. It’s not just the food—it’s the feeling. A sense of place. A connection to something far away but deeply present. Yes, the thieboudienne runs over $20, but there are plenty of other options under $15. And frankly, it’s worth every dollar.

Fatou isn’t just serving food. She’s representing a culture, a story, and a community that’s growing right here in the Maritimes. We’re lucky to have her.

If you haven’t been, go. Bring a friend. Order the thieboudienne. And if you’re not ready for the spice, try the jollof rice. I know I will—next time.

Food by Fatou

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you happened to get lost behind the old Chatham Hall, tucked off Forest Hill Road in Skyline Acres. But turn past the bend and the brick apartments, and you’ll see it: a splash of orange on the front of an otherwise ordinary building. Inside, El Mariachi is spacious but warm—plastic-covered tables in all different colours, tabla lotería cards under the glass, and three TVs showing NCAA football like it's a Saturday in Guadalajara. A large Mexican flag hangs proudly at the front, in front of a fully stocked bar. Jorge Medina croons softly through the speakers. There’s no rush, no hustle. Just a sense that this place knows exactly what it’s doing.

It’s 5:30 p.m. and I’m flying solo. One other table is working through a big bowl of guacamole. Otto, my server, greets me with a smile and recommends the quesabirria and the fish tacos without hesitation. That’s what I came for anyway. I’d just left a backyard BBQ and wasn’t especially hungry—but there was no way I was skipping the michelada. It wasn’t on the menu, but when I asked, he smiled and said, “Of course.”

Both tacos arrive together, and they don’t hold back. The fish taco is a full handful—lightly battered fish stacked high on a bed of coleslaw that brings crunch and tang, topped with a chipotle sauce that sneaks in a slow, smoky heat. It’s bright, fresh, and sunny in all the right ways. The kind of dish that pulls you out of your chair and into the memory of some coastal breeze.

![Brimming with slaw, sauce, and heat, the baja fish taco tastes like the kind of meal that makes you forget summer’s almost over](/uploads/img_9772.jpeg "El Mariachi Restaurant Bar baja fish taco")

The quesabirria is the one you write home about. Crunchy on the outside, slow-cooked beef on the inside—rich, juicy, and falling apart with every bite. It’s got that magic balance of fat and acid, salt and spice. The cheese is molten, the cilantro and onion cut through it all like sunlight, and then there’s the consommé. I dunk the taco, watch the broth cling to the edge, and take another bite. It’s gooey, savoury, a little messy, and completely satisfying.

Then there’s the michelada. It arrives in a hand-painted clay mug, beaded with condensation. The rim is heavy with Tajín, the drink icy cold and red from Clamato and spice. One sip and I snap awake—lime, chili, beer, all pulling in different directions and somehow meeting perfectly in the middle. It’s tangy, it’s punchy, it’s alive. “It makes my entire body perk up,” I scribble in my notes, and I mean it. It’s one of the best I’ve had in the country.

I talk with Otto, who tells me people come from Moncton and Saint John just to eat here. “It’s the only authentic Mexican restaurant \[in town], because I have experienced it myself,” he says. “The chef cooks food for Mexicans that Canadians get to enjoy.” No shortcuts. No diluting flavours to make things more palatable. The ingredients come from Toronto—and they pay the shipping themselves.

And while prices could have followed the trend of watered-down “fusion” fare, they didn’t. Tacos are $6–7 each, and generously portioned. The michelada runs $12, which feels steep at first—until you taste it. Every bite and sip here is a reminder that they’re not phoning it in.

Carlos Alvarez, the owner and chef, is from Guerrero, Mexico. He opened El Mariachi in 2022 as a love letter to the food he grew up with. “One of the things I want to be known for is authentic Mexican food,” he says on the restaurant’s website. And that authenticity comes through in every detail—from the food, to the soundtrack, to the confidence of a place that doesn’t need to shout to be heard. Fredericton isn’t exactly swimming in Mexican food—but even if it were, El Mariachi would still stand out.

They could’ve coasted. They could’ve done half as well and still come out ahead, just by being different. But they don’t coast. They deliver.

And now, with a new northside location on the horizon, El Mariachi is doubling down. More tacos. More micheladas. More reasons to be glad this place exists.

El Mariachi Restaurant Bar

You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were looking. A row of low, unassuming buildings off a main thoroughfare on the north side—just off Main Street—where the strip mall feels more like a cluster of neighbours than a commercial hub. But inside, Hana Ethiopian Cafe & Take-Out hums with heat and soul.

I got off the bus and walked the last stretch, 10 minutes or so past quiet side streets and low-slung signage. When I stepped through the door, I was met with the sounds of lively Ethiopian music and the smell of something good. Behind the counter was Hana, who greeted me right away—warm, welcoming, and ready to talk food. I told her I’d just arrived in town and that I was a fan of misr wat and tibs. She let me know there weren’t any tibs today, but she could make lentils—and I trusted she knew what I meant.

The space is modest—half a dozen tables, spotless floors, photos of Ethiopian coffee ceremonies on the walls. A small group across the room, clearly regulars, were digging into a shared platter, tearing off pieces of enjera with their hands and laughing between bites. It smelled incredible. Someone behind me stood up to pay and told Hana, “I haven’t had properly spicy stuff like that before. It was perfect.” I hadn’t even eaten yet and already knew I’d made a good choice.

It didn’t take long. Less than 10 minutes later, Hana brought over a trio combo: chicken stew, lentils, and kale, all tucked into a soft, spongy canvas of enjera. Just over $15. For what I got, it felt like a gift.

The kale was first—tender but not limp, almost sweet, like collard greens with a little sun in them. The lentils were exactly what I’d hoped for: tangy and rich, swimming in a tomato-forward sauce with just the right acidity. But the chicken? That’s the one you save for last. The sauce is deep and complex, warm with spice but not overwhelming. There’s a richness that coats your tongue without being heavy, and just enough heat to remind you it’s there. If this is what her beef dishes taste like too, you’re not going to go wrong either way.

![A vibrant trio of chicken stew, spiced lentils, and tender kale, all nestled on pillowy enjera—comfort food crafted with heart, heat, and home](/uploads/img_9703.jpeg "Hana Ethiopian Cafe & Take-Out combo meal")

Hana’s been cooking for as long as she can remember. “Since I was a little girl,” she told me. Raised in Addis Ababa, with family roots in the Tigray region, she brought her love of food with her when she moved to Canada. She started at the north side farmers’ market, where she cooked for nearly eight years before opening this brick-and-mortar spot about five years ago. These days, it’s a family affair—she runs the restaurant with her kids, and makes everything herself, including the enjera. Nothing prepackaged. Nothing rushed.

“I cook the food the way I want to eat it," she says. If I enjoy eating it then I will serve it.”

The regular menu offers combo plates with rice or enjera, but there are off-menu options too. You can get a full family-style platter for around $40, depending on how many mouths you’re feeding. Or just double up on combos and share like the folks across from me did. Either way, you’re walking away full and happy.

Hana says customers come from all over—Moncton, Saint John, Halifax—sometimes making the trip just for a big order to take back home. “Financially, so far so good,” she says. “I don’t want to increase the price. I want people to come in here and afford. Because if they can afford my food, they can bring other people and eat.”

That spirit runs through everything here. It’s a small place doing something special—quietly, consistently, and without compromise.

Fredericton’s not overflowing with Ethiopian restaurants. But even if it were, Hana would still stand out. There’s something about her cooking that hits deeper than just spice or seasoning. It’s comfort food at its most honest—handmade, heart-forward, and completely unforgettable.

You can taste the care in every bite. Come for the lentils. Stay for the chicken. Then come back again.

Hana Ethiopian Cafe & Take-Out

Tucked in a Skyline Acres plaza in Fredericton, wedged between a low-slung motel and a pizzeria and not far from the campuses of the University of New Brunswick and Saint Thomas University, Tokyo Ramen is the kind of place you could miss if you weren’t looking for it. But once you’ve been, it’s hard to forget. Even before you step through the door, the air smells like something good is happening inside. Broth and sizzling meat, ginger and garlic, steam and soul. The kind of smells that stick to your clothes—in the best way.

Tokyo Ramen first opened back in 2019, a quiet addition to the city’s small but mighty ramen scene. It quickly became a go-to for students, families, and homesick ex-pats looking for comfort in a bowl. But in 2024, the lights went out. After the head chef and co-owner was diagnosed with kidney failure, the restaurant shut its doors. For a while, it looked like Fredericton had lost one of its few truly authentic Japanese kitchens.

In early 2025, the owners announced they were planning to reopen. The news travelled fast among regulars and local food lovers who had missed the place. When the doors did open, it was a steady stream of customers who remembered what was here and couldn’t wait to be back.

Inside, the layout is simple but thoughtful. Four desks line one wall, like a study nook for solo diners or takeout regulars. In the back, a larger seating area includes a traditional on-the-floor setup, tucked into a slightly sunken corner of the room. One wall is papered in giant, bright photographs of the dishes, a visual menu as much as a statement of pride. This is what we make. Look at it. Order something.

You seat yourself, then head to the counter to place your order. The server who welcomed us offered a few recommendations, clearly favouring the spicy bulgogi ramen and their namesake Tokyo ramen. He wasn’t wrong. We tried both—along with a few other dishes—and came away full, impressed, and already planning a return visit.

We started with the okonomiyaki, a savoury Japanese pancake folded with shrimp and finished with a creamy, tangy sauce. It’s deeply umami, with a texture somewhere between crispy omelette and molten pancake. The shrimp were impossibly tender, almost melting into the batter, while the edges stayed golden and crisp.

![Golden-edged and impossibly tender, Tokyo Ramen’s okonomiyaki delivers a savoury, shrimp-studded start that sets the tone with soul and flavour.](/uploads/img_9647.jpeg "Tokyo Ramen okonomiyaki")

Next came the tonkotsu ramen, the classic pork bone broth with chashu pork, bamboo shoots, and noodles. The broth is thick and creamy, rich without being overpowering. The pork is the star—fatty, fall-apart tender, and just the right kind of indulgent. Bamboo shoots bring a crunchy contrast, and the whole bowl feels thoughtfully constructed. If you’re new to ramen, this is the gateway.

But it was the spicy bulgogi ramen that stood out most. The broth hits with a pleasant, lingering heat—enough to warm you, but never too much. The sweetness of the bulgogi balances the spice, and the vegetables scattered generously across the top add both texture and brightness. Corn, beans, and bamboo shoots all hold their own here, and the noodles have that perfect just-chewy bite. It’s the kind of bowl that feels like a small reward after a long day, especially with the evenings starting to cool down in late August.

We sat down after our meal with Fumi Kamazuka, the restaurant’s manager and the son of the owners. The Kamazuka family moved to Fredericton after several years in the U.S., originally hailing from Gunma, Japan. Most of the family now works in the kitchen—parents, siblings, all of them bringing something personal to the space. When the restaurant had to close, they weren’t sure anyone would remember. But customers returned almost immediately when the doors reopened. Some things don’t need billboards; they just need to be missed.

Fumi mentioned that they make their noodles fresh every day, and it shows. There’s a quiet confidence in the food here—nothing flashy, nothing overworked. Just well-balanced flavours, warm service, and dishes that feel both familiar and deeply rooted. The Tokyo ramen, their signature dish, is the recommended starting point for first-timers, but it’s clear there’s no wrong choice on this menu.

Our total came to just under $50 for three dishes—solid value for scratch-made ramen and snacks, especially considering the quality and care involved. The service is efficient, friendly without being fussy, and the space manages to be both casual and welcoming. It’s the kind of restaurant that doesn’t chase trends, but quietly earns its place.

Tokyo Ramen is back, and Fredericton is better for it. Not just because the food is good—which it is—but because places like this are rare. They carry more than just recipes; they carry stories, family, resilience. And in this corner of a strip mall near a motel, that kind of heart matters.

Tokyo Ramen

Right across from Friends’ Bingo on Montreal Road—because of course that’s where you’d find it—Aztec Tacos sits nestled among a clutch of Latin American grocery stores and eateries. If you’ve lived in Ottawa long enough, you’ve probably driven past it a dozen times without clocking it. But walk inside, and the place doesn’t let you forget where you are. Yellow, pink, and turquoise walls explode with colour, Frida Kahlo stares you down from a dozen angles, and the sound of mariachi (or maybe heart-wrenching Mexican ballads?) pours out from two TVs hanging in opposite corners. It’s loud. It’s bright. It’s glorious.

We came on a Saturday around 1 p.m., and nearly every table was full. There’s a rhythm to the space that doesn’t feel accidental: snippets of Spanish, French, and English float around as servers—part of the tight-knit community that owns and runs the place—move quickly between tables. A few years ago, it was a quieter, more barebones operation. Today, it’s vibrant and buzzing.

Aztec Tacos has been on our radar for a while. We’d heard the whispers, fielded the recommendations, even gotten late-night texts from friends insisting we had to try it. So we finally made our way there—me, Danielle (my partner and co-writer of this blog), and our friend David, a CBC reporter who somehow hadn’t been yet. Spoiler: he’ll be back.

We ordered a bit of everything: lengua, chorizo, barbacoa, al pastor, and the runaway favourite—quesabirria. The lengua taco (beef tongue) set the tone. It’s tender, deeply marinated, and unapologetically flavourful—none of that bland, rubbery stuff you sometimes get with tongue. “This is exceptional Mexican food,” David said, pointing out the vivid green cilantro topping. “Look at this—it’s so fresh.”

The quesabirria, though, is what had us all nodding in agreement. Richly seasoned meat tucked between tortillas crisped on the grill, fused together with gooey, melted cheese. Served warm and golden, it’s the kind of comfort food that doesn’t ask for praise—but earns it anyway.

The barbacoa and chorizo held their own, the former soft and savoury, the latter punchy and rich with paprika. The al pastor brought that classic balance of sweet and heat, cooked to perfection—but next to the quesabirria, even great tacos played supporting roles.

![A perfect taco spread: tender pork front and centre, with lengua, barbacoa, chorizo, and al pastor waiting in the wings](/uploads/img_9339.jpeg "Aztec Tacos carnitas")

Saturdays come with specials, and this week it was sopes and flautas. We opted for tamales instead—a bit of a wait, but worth it. The filling was light, almost sparse, but the shell had a crispy edge and a corn-forward flavour that worked beautifully with the tart green salsa on the side. David said it reminded him of pastelle, a Trini holiday dish wrapped in banana leaves. That comparison alone felt like a testament to the tamale’s warmth and familiarity.

And then there were the salsas. Smoky red, tangy green, and both fiery in their own way. These weren’t afterthoughts—they elevated every taco, cutting through the richness and brightening each bite. Lime wedges and fresh cilantro came standard, like the restaurant knew we’d want to assemble every mouthful just so.

We spoke with Juan, the owner, who told us the story behind Aztec Tacos. It started in 2019 as a small operation for their local church community in Vanier. “Everything we make is from scratch,” he says. “The sauces, the fillings, everything. We don’t buy anything premade.” That much is clear from the first bite.

In 2020, a fire shut them down for nearly a year. And then, of course, the pandemic. “We thought we’d lost everything,” Juan admits. But in April 2021, they reopened. And somehow, the word got out. Through nothing but word of mouth, the restaurant has grown a steady base of loyal fans from all over the city.

The staff? All part of the same church community. The vibe is equal parts family-run and deeply rooted in tradition. Recipes come from Guadalajara, and you can taste the heritage in every dish. Juan suggests trying the arrachera (marinated skirt steak), the gringas (cheese-stuffed flour tortillas), and—of course—the quesabirria with consommé.

They’ve since opened a second location nearby and plan to eventually move into a larger space that can seat up to 300. But the original still holds that charm of a place built by hand, by heart, and by community.

There’s a quiet strength behind Aztec Tacos. It’s in the way the staff greet you like you’ve been there before. It’s in the food, which speaks in bold, confident flavours without ever trying too hard. And it’s in the way they’ve rebuilt—twice now—without ever compromising their identity.

And let’s talk value. We ordered generously—tacos, tamales, drinks, the works—and still came out at around $25 a person. Most tacos hover around the five-dollar mark, which makes them cheaper than many non-authentic spots in the city (unless you catch a happy hour), but here they come packed with flavour and tradition. Larger platters, like the flautas or sopes, sit comfortably under 20 bucks and arrive with enough food to satisfy even the hungriest lunch crowd.


Eat the Strip isn’t about trend-chasing or hype machines. It’s about stories like this—of resilience, of flavour, of tacos so good they stick with you. Aztec Tacos is exactly the kind of hidden gem we’re here for.

And the quesabirria? Worth the wait. Worth the hype. Worth the return visit.

Aztec Tacos

Tucked beside a physiotherapy centre in a Centrepointe strip mall, Lil' Negril Island Grill isn’t the kind of place you stumble upon. You come here because someone told you to, because you read about it, or because you’ve been before and you’re coming back. That last group? It’s big. When we visited recently, a table of seven regulars were finishing a birthday meal—someone had just turned 96—and the vibe was unmistakably celebratory.

At the centre of it all is Jaydean, who greets us with the kind of warmth that makes you feel like you’ve walked into her living room. She’s quick with a joke, full of stories, and effortlessly welcoming. Her partner, Glenmore, runs the kitchen—a trained chef originally from Jamaica by way of the Cayman Islands, where the couple met. Together, they opened Lil’ Negril in 2013. It was, they tell us, always the dream.

The interior is clean and inviting—laminate floors, a full-sized Jamaican flag hanging proudly behind the counter, and walls painted to resemble a tree canopy, dotted with framed images of the Caribbean. It’s got more polish than most of the industrial gems we visit, and yet it still feels personal, not polished. The kind of place where someone remembers your order and your name.

We came as a group of four this time—my partner Danielle, myself, and our friends Ewan and Beatrix. The latter is vegan, and Lil’ Negril stood out during our search for a place that could cater to both a craving for ackee and saltfish and a plant-based plate with real soul. Turns out, Glenmore and Jaydean are not just accommodating—they’re enthusiastic about making vegan diners feel seen and fed. Beatrix gave her plate a glowing review, noting the generous portion and rich, well-balanced spice that brought it all together.

![A flaky, buttery roti wraps around bone-in goat cooked low and slow—succulent, spiced, and deeply satisfying](/uploads/img_9300.jpeg "Lil' Negril Island Grill bust-up goat roti")

Danielle and I split two mains: the bust-up goat roti and the ackee and saltfish. The goat arrived wrapped in a soft, flaky roti that was buttery and golden, almost crumbling in your fingers. The meat itself—bone-in and fall-apart tender—had been cooked low and slow, infused with warm spices that went deep into the fibres. There was heat, but not the aggressive kind. The hot sauce they offer on the side has a pepper-forward profile, fragrant and flavourful without overwhelming the dish. The roti format reminded us of a deconstructed version, with the wrap acting more as a vehicle for scooping and savouring than as a tight parcel. It’s the kind of dish that asks you to slow down, eat with your hands, and enjoy the moment.

![Jamaica’s national dish arrives like a sunbeam on a plate: savoury, bright, and full of nuance.](/uploads/img_9301.jpeg "Lil' Negril Island Grill ackee and saltfish")

The ackee and saltfish came plated with bright salad greens dressed in a raspberry vinaigrette, which offered a tart contrast to the savoury main. If you’ve never had ackee before, you might mistake it for scrambled egg—it’s a soft yellow fruit that takes on the flavour of what it’s cooked with, in this case, the salted cod. The pairing is Jamaica’s national dish for a reason: the salt and brine of the fish lift the creamy, slightly nutty ackee into something deeply comforting and surprisingly complex. Every bite landed differently, depending on what it landed next to on the plate, but the overall impression was one of balance, richness, and quiet confidence.

After the meal, we sat with Glenmore and Jaydean. Their story isn’t just about food—it’s about building something lasting. Glenmore trained as a chef across several countries, and it shows in the consistency of the dishes. "If it’s not the same every time, people won’t come back," he tells us, matter-of-factly.

Jaydean reflects more emotionally: “The customers really supported us during COVID… they feel like it’s home here.” Some visitors drop by just to say hi before heading south for the winter. One regular comes from Syracuse, New York. Another swears Glenmore flies in the pork from Jamaica. (He doesn’t. But it’s that good.)

Even government officials have taken notice. “The Jamaican embassy folks eat here,” Jaydean says with a grin. “And when people from the Trinidadian government visit Ottawa, they stop by too.”

It’s that kind of place. Familiar faces, familiar food, and a kind of easygoing warmth that feels increasingly rare.

There’s something enduring about Lil’ Negril. The prices are fair—our mains were all in the $16 to $20 range—and the portions strike that sweet spot between generous and manageable. But what sticks with us most is the atmosphere: open, welcoming, full of life.

“We love it,” Jaydean says. “It’s one of the best jobs.” 

In a city full of hidden corners and culinary secrets, Lil’ Negril stands out not just for its food, but for the heart behind it. Fourteen years on, that heart is still beating strong.

Lil' Negril Island Grill

Tucked into a quiet stretch of a south-end strip mall that’s already gifted us Mr.Kabab and Egyptian Corner, Yemen Gate makes its presence known before we even cross the threshold. The scent of cinnamon hangs in the air outside—earthy, sweet, and unmistakable. Inside, the space is clean and bright. Light from the long summer evening spills through wide windows, catching on black marble trim and bouncing softly across five or six neatly spaced tables. A bar-style counter runs the length of the front window, dotted with high chairs and diners quietly pulling tender meat from bone with their hands.

It’s 7:30 p.m. on a Monday night, and every seat is full. We’re here with our friend Faisal. Around us, groups of men laugh and talk over massive platters of rice and meat. Arabic music flows gently from a speaker tucked somewhere near the ceiling. The smell of spices—grill smoke, slow-cooked meat, clove—mingles with the buzz of conversation. It’s warm, familiar, and inviting.

We start with the tabeekh, a spiced vegetable soup that lands on the table steaming and slightly fiery. It's brothy and comforting, with a slow-building heat that’s perfect for cooler nights.

But the real reason we’re here is the mandi—Yemen’s signature rice and meat dish. The three of us agree on a small family platter of the mixed mandi, which gives us both lamb and chicken for around $45. It’s an incredible value: three people eat very well, with leftovers to spare.

![A generous platter of perfectly seasoned rice, fall-apart lamb, and juicy chicken—topped with crispy onions, sweet raisins, and roasted almonds](/uploads/img_9288.jpeg "Yemen Gate mandi small family platter")

When the plate arrives, it’s enormous. A full bed of basmati rice is crowned with golden strands of crispy fried onion, scattered almonds, sweet fried raisins, and—taking centre stage—fall-apart lamb and gently charred chicken. The first bite confirms what the scent already promised: this is food made with time and care. The lamb falls apart under a fork, all tenderness and deep flavour. It’s juicy without being greasy, intensely seasoned without overpowering the natural richness of the meat.

The chicken is its own kind of triumph. Often overshadowed by lamb in dishes like these, here it holds its own—marinated, moist, and touched with just the right amount of smoke. The rice beneath it all is a tapestry of flavour: every grain cooked through and gently spiced, with just enough oil to carry the flavour but not so much as to feel heavy.

Faisal tells us that this spice blend is either the traditional mandi mix or a close cousin—homemade, he says, and clearly made with a careful hand. It’s comforting but complex: cardamom, clove, cinnamon, and maybe something floral, softened together into something more than the sum of its parts.

After the meal, we speak with Sami, whose family owns the restaurant. He’s soft-spoken, friendly, and clearly proud of what Yemen Gate has built since opening in July 2022. “We’ve had restaurants in Saudi, in Yemen, even in Malaysia,” he tells us. “So the spices have always been the same.” His family is from Ibb, a green city in southwestern Yemen known for its food and hospitality. It shows here.

“The lamb is fresh,” he adds. “We cook it the very next day. It’s expensive, but that’s how we do it at home.”

That word—home—comes up often. And it makes sense. Everything about Yemen Gate feels like a tether to something older: a way of cooking and eating that isn’t chasing trends or gimmicks, but simply recreating a familiar table from far away. “Each restaurant has its own special mandi,” Sami says. “This one is ours.”

For first-timers, he recommends starting with the mandi. For those more familiar, the haneeth, another slow-cooked meat dish, is worth trying next. And the future? “We want to go bigger,” he says. “We want Yemeni food to be known by more Canadians.”

We hope they get there. For now, Yemen Gate is quietly doing something special in a corner of a strip mall that continues to surprise us. It’s a reminder—once again—that the best food in the city isn’t always front and centre. Sometimes, it’s tucked between a dry cleaner and a vape shop, steeped in spice, and waiting to welcome you in.

Yemen Gate

Just a few doors down from last week’s stop at Mr. Kabab, another culinary secret is quietly making its mark in this south-end strip mall. Egyptian Corner is exactly the kind of place we love to feature: modest, family-run, and serving food that doesn’t need a PR campaign to prove its worth. The smell alone is all the marketing it needs.

Inside, the space is sparse. A few small tables line the walls, with framed portraits of pharaohs and ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs lending a little personality to the otherwise simple décor. A fridge by the door is stocked with cold drinks, and the kitchen is mostly hidden behind a sliding door—except for a gap through which I can see into the back, where fresh vegetables are being chopped and plated dishes are hustled out.

I’m greeted by a smiling man at the counter who introduces himself as Mohamed Sarhan, the owner. I tell him I’m here to try the koshari and a falafel sandwich with lots of vegetables. He nods and disappears into the kitchen. As I wait, I take in the menu taped to the kitchen door—nothing fancy, just paper and tape—but the dishes listed are pure Egyptian street food: foul, moussaka, koshari, and more. Not a single item cracks the $14 mark, and most hover closer to ten.

The koshari comes first, hot and hefty despite being labelled a “small.” It’s a carb-lover’s dream: layers of macaroni, vermicelli noodles, lentils, and chickpeas all pulled together with a rich, tomato-based sauce. But what sets it apart are the fried onions—generously piled on top, they add a smoky crunch that cuts through the softness of everything underneath. The koshari comes with two house-made sauces: a tart vinaigrette that brightens each bite, and a fiery Egyptian hot sauce called daqqa, which lends a creeping heat that builds pleasantly as you go.

![A hearty street food staple from Egypt, this koshari is piled high with pasta, lentils, chickpeas, and fried onions—and served with two bold house-made sauces](/uploads/img_9223.jpeg "Egyptian Corner koshari")

Then there’s the falafel sandwich. I’ll say it straight: this might be my favourite sandwich I’ve eaten on the blog so far. The falafel itself is a revelation—fluffy on the inside, crispy on the outside—and it’s made in the Egyptian style, with fava beans instead of chickpeas. It’s nestled into a soft pita with fresh vegetables, grilled eggplant, and, brilliantly, potato chips. The whole thing is layered like a street food love letter from Cairo. At $7, it feels like I’ve gotten away with something.

Mohamed’s wife is chopping fresh vegetables in the background as he checks in to see if I need anything else. The couple work quietly and efficiently behind the counter, clearly comfortable in the rhythm of their small operation. “This is a family business,” Mohamed tells me. “We used to run a food truck before, but our customers told us to open a restaurant.” So they did, earlier this year.

Everything here is made to taste like home—literally. Mohamed tells me they try to imitate the recipes exactly as they’re made back in Egypt. That authenticity shows in every bite.

“This is for everyone,” Mohamed says, smiling. “Not just people who know Egyptian food. Everyone likes it once they try.”

There’s something deeply satisfying about finding places like Egyptian Corner. It’s the kind of restaurant where flavour doesn’t follow trends, where dishes aren’t fussed over, and where the goal is simple: make good food, keep it affordable, and treat people well. Around Bank and Heron, places like this are quietly thriving—and they deserve more attention.

I left with a full stomach, a newfound love for Egyptian falafel, and the certainty that I’ll be back soon. Probably very soon.

Egyptian Corner

In the corner unit of a quiet south-end strip mall, just a few doors down from a barbershop and a cigar store, Mr. Kabab is quietly turning out some of the best Syrian kebabs in the city. Not far along the same stretch are two more restaurants—a Yemeni spot and an Egyptian one—which makes this particular strip mall a must-visit for anyone looking to eat the strip. Mr. Kabab opened just two months ago, and it already feels like a hidden gem waiting to be found.

Mr. Kabab is simple inside. Four tables, grey-painted walls with marble trim, and a single fan that doesn’t do much to cool the room but does succeed in circulating the delicious scent of grilled lamb, tomato, and onion. I grab a seat by the breeze and take it all in.

At the counter, I ask about the lamb—it catches my eye immediately. The wrap version is an easy $10, but I’m hungry, so I opt for the lamb kabab meal ($17) and choose rice as my side. I also notice that lamb and chicken are the same price, which is unusual. In most places, lamb carries a premium. Here, it’s treated with the same casual generosity as chicken. That alone says something. 

The food arrives fresh off the grill. The lamb is tender, juicy, and full of garlic-forward flavour. The spice blend is gentle, subtle—maybe cumin? coriander?—but it works beautifully. The meat sits on a bed of parsley and onions, which add a burst of freshness and crunch to every bite. A side of grilled tomato and roasted onion rounds out the plate, adding sweetness and a slight char that plays off the meat’s richness.

![Tender, garlic-brushed lamb served over rice with grilled vegetables and a side of smoky house-made muhammara—Syrian comfort on a plate](/uploads/img_9202.jpeg "Mr.Kebab lamb kabab plate")

They also bring over a few sauces, including some of the best baba ganoush and muhammara I’ve had in Ottawa. The baba is creamy and smoky, while the muhammara is thick, spicy, and slightly oily in the best way. Their take is clearly a house variation—deeper, bolder, and with more heat than usual. I love it.

After the meal, I have a chance to speak with Hazem, the owner. He worked in his father’s restaurant in Saudi Arabia before moving to Canada in 2018, and opened Mr. Kabab just two months ago to showcase the food of his hometown, Hama. Known throughout Syria for its BBQ, Hama is a city where grilled meats are taken seriously—and it shows here. Hazem tells me the key to their food is simple: a short list of spices and really good meat. No shortcuts, no skimping.

The restaurant is still new, but already has loyal customers. And it’s not hard to see why. There’s care in every bite of this food, and a quiet confidence in how it’s presented—no frills, just flavour.

The smell of charcoal takes me back to my childhood in Old Delhi, where street-side grills perfumed the air in the early evenings. The kebabs here are different, but they share the same purpose: to bring people together over food that’s deeply rooted in tradition, yet made to be enjoyed right now, in the heart of south Ottawa.

Mr.Kabab

Between a dentist’s office and a pizza joint in a sleepy Kanata strip mall, Hyderabad Biryani Point is quietly turning out some of the best biryani in the city.

Inside, the space is simple and compact: three booths to the left, two tables to the right, and the rich smell of simmering spices already pulling us toward the counter. A photo of the Charminar, one of Hyderabad’s most iconic monument, hangs prominently on the wall. At one of the tables, a group of friends is deep into plates of dum biryani, happily tearing meat from the bone. It's a scene we’ll soon join.

My partner and co-writer of Eat the Strip Danielle and I ask what’s popular, and the answer is immediate: mutton biryani. We order one to share—plus two small raitas, just 25 cents each—and take a booth. Danielle cracks open a Diet Coke. Top 40 hits from a decade ago are playing on the stereo as the kitchen fills the room with a heady mix of cardamom, cloves, cumin, and onion.

The biryani arrives in a silver takeout tray, still steaming. The rice is long-grain and deeply aromatic, layered with soft herbs, fried onions, and whole spices. But the main event is buried within: tender, bone-in mutton that’s been slow-cooked until it practically collapses. The flavours are full and warming, balanced with just enough heat and depth. It’s rich, but not greasy. A dish made with care. And more than enough to feed two.

![A mound of fragrant basmati rice hides fall-apart mutton in this slow-cooked biryani, topped with crispy fried onions and served with a side of raita.](/uploads/img_9031.jpeg "Hyderabad Biryani Point mutton biryani")

Scanning the menu for next time, a list of Vijayawada-style curries stands out—spicy Andhra-style dishes known for their use of green chillies, pepper, and punchy flavours. If the biryani is anything to go by, these will be worth the return trip.

After the meal, we chat with Lokesh, who opened the restaurant in March 2024 with his business partner Nagendra. Lokesh is a civil engineer by training but spent 15 years living in Hyderabad and clearly has an eye—and palate—for the details. Nagendra is a professional chef with 14 years of experience in India, the U.S., and Canada, including running a restaurant in Calgary before relocating to Ottawa. The biryani recipe is his own.

Everything is made in small batches—just two a day. No shortcuts, no reheating. Customers are asked about spice level and preferences when ordering, and it’s clear they’re interested in matching each person with a dish they’ll actually enjoy.

For us, the mutton biryani was the star: flavourful, generous, and comforting without being heavy. At over $20 for the goat, it’s on the pricier end of their menu, but well worth it. Chicken and vegetarian options come in around $15.

This is the kind of place you find once, then keep coming back to. Not just because the food is excellent—but because it tastes like someone cares about getting it right.

Hyderabad Biryani Point

Tucked inside an unassuming strip mall off Prince of Wales Drive, just down the road from residential streets and a Passport Canada office, Farmers Pick Italian Foods doesn’t exactly scream “destination sandwich spot”—but it should.

From the outside, it looks like a small grocer. And it is. But wander in, past the stacked crates of summer peaches and rows of glossy bell peppers, and you’ll find something more: a deli counter that’s become a low-key lunchtime legend. There’s no neon signage, no specials board screaming for your attention. Instead, there’s a small form, a counter, and a staff who treat you like you’ve been coming for years—even if it’s your first time.

It’s past the lunch rush when I stop in. The aisles are quiet, the AC is humming, and I’ve got the place more or less to myself. A woman behind the counter greets me with an easy smile and helps me pick my sandwich. I go with the number eight, the Misto Italiano. It’s a towering stack of mortadella, Genoa salami, capicollo, and provolone, layered onto a fresh Italian bun. The bread is made in-house daily, and it shows—soft and warm, with just the right chew.

The sandwich takes about five minutes to come together, but it’s worth every second. Wrapped like a gift, it’s hefty enough to double as a paperweight. Walking it back to the car, I feel like I’m carrying a brick of banana bread. And at just under ten dollars, it feels like theft.

![Stacked with mortadella, Genoa salami, capicollo and provolone, the Misto Italiano at Farmers Pick is a two-handed, jaw-stretching masterpiece of a sandwich](/uploads/img_8950.jpeg "Farmer's Pick Misto Italiano")

Inside, the vibe is easygoing—no rush, no fuss. The kind of place where regulars know the drill, and newcomers are quickly welcomed into the fold. It’s been this way for years, but the sandwich counter itself is a newer addition, started about a decade ago by the Curcio family, who own and run the shop.

“We’ve always taken it day by day,” says Johnny Curcio, the store’s general manager and brother of owner Alfonso Curcio. “It’s like a rollercoaster sometimes. But we’re working together, and that makes it stronger. We’ve got the same goal, the same mindset.”

Johnny tells me the ingredients are prepped fresh daily, with nothing cut ahead of time. “We’ve got the best Italian bread, we carry the highest brands, and we’re working on quality—food quality, meat, vegetables, cheese. That’s our focus.”

And you can taste it. The sandwich is enormous—enough for two, maybe three. The amount of meat alone would cost nearly the same at a grocery store, but here, it’s part of a whole that’s balanced and built with care. The vegetables are crisp, the bell peppers especially vibrant for summer. The meats are flavourful without being too salty, and a generous smear of Dijon brings everything into sharp focus. It's a sandwich that demands two hands—and maybe a little extra jaw flexibility.

Farmers Pick isn’t trendy. It doesn’t advertise. It doesn’t need to. What it offers is a well-kept local secret: a family-run grocery store that just happens to serve one of the best sandwiches in town.

Farmer's Pick

There’s something satisfying about walking into a strip mall and being greeted like a regular—even if it’s your first visit. At Shawarma Chef in Orléans, you don’t just get lunch. You get a welcome.

Step through the doors and you’re met with a bold mural in black, white, and green—an ode to Orléans streetscapes and neighbourhood names that gives the place a sense of local pride. The space itself is larger than you’d expect, bright and airy, with enough tables to handle a full lunch rush comfortably.

Ali is behind the counter today, manning the grill and offering easy conversation while the food cooks. He tells me the owner—also named Ali—is away celebrating his son’s high school graduation, but the energy in the kitchen doesn’t skip a beat. It’s just past noon, and the lunch crowd is beginning to roll in. Most people are ordering the same thing I am: the chicken saj sandwich. I take it as a good sign.

The wrap comes together quickly, but with obvious care. Saj bread, made fresh in-house, goes down on the grill. Sliced chicken, hot off the spit, is piled on top. Fresh vegetables, house-made garlic sauce, and a few crispy fries—generously added when Ali notices me eyeing the Lebanese fries wrap on the menu—complete the package. It’s hot, fragrant, and full of texture: crisp veg, tender meat, just the right amount of sauce. The garlic hits hard in the best way.

![A fresh-off-the-grill chicken saj wrap, packed with crisp veggies, house-made garlic sauce, and sizzling shawarma, wrapped in warm, chewy saj bread](/uploads/img_8929.jpeg "Shawarma Chef chicken saj wrap")

We first heard about Shawarma Chef through a reader tip—someone who described it as a hidden gem with unbelievable shawarma, unique and creative dishes, and an owner who clearly puts his heart into the work. That tracks. You can feel that pride in every part of the experience.

Though the restaurant has been here for years, it changed hands in 2022. The new owner kept the name but completely reworked the menu. Gone are the one-size-fits-all combos. In their place: saj platters, loaded fries, chicken burgers—each one treated with intention. They use only chicken breast, which costs more but means no shortcuts when it comes to flavour or texture.

This isn’t your usual grab-and-go shawarma. It’s not meant to be scarfed down in a parking lot. It’s meant to be eaten fresh and hot, right here—under the mural, with time to taste what makes it different. Yes, it’ll run you closer to $20, but what you’re getting isn’t just a bigger portion. It’s a better one.

This is food made with pride.

Shawarma Chef

On a quiet Sunday afternoon in northern Gatineau, tucked inside a humble strip mall off Highway 50, La Balade des Douceurs hums with quiet purpose. The door swings open, and in comes the smell of fresh bread. It’s the kind of place you could easily drive past—until you know better.

Inside, it’s bright and inviting. the middle, a small fridge holds salad boxes and ready-made items. But the real action is on the right and behind the counter: a glowing glass case filled with glossy, golden viennoiseries—croissants, pastries, and delicate tartelettes. At the back, baguettes and fougasse cool on open racks. Customers stream in and out. Someone leaves with two boxes of tartelettes. This place has regulars, and you can tell.

We were tipped off by a reader who reached out through the blog’s contact page. “This bakery hits the Eat-The-Strip standard,” Michael wrote. “It’s tucked away in a strip mall, but the bread is excellent. Everyone I’ve sent there has come back raving.”

And we see what he means.

Antoinette, who welcomes us at the counter, runs the bakery with her husband Michel and their daughter Yannick. Michel is a trained baker from the Champagne region of France. Antoinette, originally of Chinese heritage, grew up in Madagascar. The couple opened their first shop back in 2008 on Montée Paiement, but it closed during the pandemic. Their current location opened in 2021—and judging by the steady rhythm of foot traffic, word has most definitely spread.

“We love our jobs,” Antoinette says. “We do it with lots of passion—to make people happy elsewhere.” Michel has been baking for 37 years. Yannick, who’s worked here the past four, puts it plainly: “If I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t stay.”

There’s no printed menu. “The baker is always here,” Antoinette explains. “Everything is made fresh.” She recommends arriving early—first thing in the morning is when the cases are full and everything’s in stock. I visited on a Sunday afternoon and caught the tail end of the day’s offerings, though even then, the case still managed to tempt.

I try the almond croissant. It’s room temperature, flake-forward and lightly dusted with icing sugar, filled with a rich almond paste and a soft hit of cinnamon. There’s a gentle tartness in the filling—apple, maybe, or maybe not. Either way, it’s lovely. Not too sweet, not too heavy. I eat it slowly in the sun at one of the two small tables outside.

![Flaky, fragrant, and quietly complex—this almond croissant hides a cinnamon-sweet centre beneath its golden crust, and tastes like it was made just for you](/uploads/img_8898.jpeg "La Balade des Douceurs almond croissant")

I take home an olive fougasse. The bread is springy and fresh, with salty olives and a punch of oregano. It’s the kind of thing that disappears faster than you expect—perfect with cheese, soup, or just eaten standing at the counter.

La Balade des Douceurs isn’t trying to be trendy. It doesn’t advertise. And it doesn’t need to. This is a bakery built on skill, consistency, and a loyal crowd of customers who know where to find the good stuff—and when. (Hint: morning.)

There are no frills here, no café soundtrack, no latte art. Just family-run French baking in a quiet corner of Gatineau, made with care and quietly beloved.

Which makes it exactly the kind of place Eat the Strip was made for.

La Balade des Douceurs

Sometimes you follow the flavour, even if it leads you off your usual path.

At Brews and Blues in Stittsville, what started as an exception to our strip mall rule ended up being a reminder of why we chase these hidden gems in the first place. Housed in a bright, inviting space that once belonged to Equator Coffee Roasters, this spot serves up warm hospitality, hearty plates, and a quiet nod to the tastes and textures of the American South—filtered through an Ottawa lens.

The gravel lot out back hints at its past life, and yes, there’s a palm reader next door if you want your fortune told after your meal. But step inside and things feel instantly grounded: clean lines, sunlit tables, and Peter Gabriel on the speakers the afternoon I drop in. It’s airy, uncluttered, and filled with a pleasant hum—even at 2:30 on a Friday.

Our server Mani tells me the place has been open since November, and that the owner, Corri, used to run a spot in Carp called the Juke Joint. “That one shut down during COVID,” he says. “But the response here’s been amazing. Everyone in the community’s been really supportive.”

They’ve kept the music alive too—with open mic nights on Wednesdays, full bands on Saturdays, and even a DJ set planned for next week. The stage sits inside, just off the main dining area, while a sprawling, dog-friendly patio out back offers plenty of breathing room (though no one’s using it today thanks to the wildfire haze).

The menu leans Southern, but doesn’t try too hard to be a replica of anything. Mani explains that Corri was inspired by several trips to New Orleans, and the food reflects that—"We’re shooting for New Orléans type of food with a little bit of a twist,” he says.

On his recommendation, I order the Cajun curry: chicken breast in a Cajun curry cream sauce, served over seasoned rice and topped with baked mozzarella and candied pecans. A side of garlic naan rounds it out. It’s rich and a bit indulgent, like butter chicken gone wandering through Louisiana. There’s real depth from the curry spice, balanced by the creamy cheese, and the pecans bring in just enough sweetness to make you pause between bites.

![Creamy, spicy, cheesy, and just a little sweet—this Cajun curry doesn’t hold back, and neither should you](/uploads/img_8829.jpeg "Brews and Blues cajun curry")

The beer—an Ashton session lager—is light, crisp, and cuts nicely through the richness of the dish. Altogether, it’s a satisfying plate that feels fresh and fun, and at $19 plus beer, not unreasonable for the portion and quality.

Brews and Blues may not be buried in a strip mall or hiding behind a grocery store, but it still fits the bill: it’s far enough from the city core to fly under the radar, and full of the kind of detail and care that makes a place worth discovering. The food is an hommage—not a replica—to a beloved cuisine, and the energy here is unmistakably about bringing people together around good meals and live music.

If you go on a Wednesday or Saturday, bring your appetite—and maybe your dancing shoes, too.

Brews and Blues

You know it’ll be good when the food is brought out on a banana leaf.

A reader tip brought us to the fluorescent-lit aisles of Manila Mart Grocery Store on Carling, where, tucked beneath the main floor and down a quiet stairwell to the left, Thilaks waits like a secret you're glad someone told you. It’s not the kind of place you’d stumble upon by accident—but it’s exactly the kind of place this blog lives for.

The dining room is modest: about a dozen tables, a laminate floor, floral murals on two walls and bright produce wallpaper on the third. No sign out front (yet), no frills, no fuss—just the smell of spice, the hum of kitchen activity, and a quiet warmth from behind the counter.

We order the rice and curry combo. What arrives is more than a meal—it’s a whole tapestry of Southern Sri Lankan flavours laid lovingly across a banana leaf. There’s black pork curry (a standout), lentils, mango, greens, and a crisp poppadum served alongside.

![A fiery spread of black pork curry, mustardy lentils, curried greens, tart mango, and crisp poppadum—all served on a traditional banana leaf that’s as much about flavour as it is about feeling right at home.](/uploads/img_8790.jpeg "Thilaks rice and curry")

The black pork, a hallmark of southern Sri Lankan cooking, is deeply spiced and slow-cooked until the edges caramelize into something smoky and almost sweet, with a dark, intense richness that comes from roasted curry powder and a generous hand with the spice cabinet.

It’s unapologetically spicy. The black pork brings heat, but it’s the fresh green chillies scattered across the plate that kick things up a notch. The mango, tart and tender, acts as a lifeline between bites, offering relief like a homemade chutney. The yellow lentils have a mustardy kick and carry that soul-warming comfort of something slow-cooked and cared for. And the greens—think curried collards—round things out with just the right bitterness.

We weren’t even that hungry going in. We cleaned the leaf.

And here’s the kicker: the whole meal cost just over $15. For the size, quality, and sheer depth of flavour, it’s one of the better deals we’ve found anywhere in the city—strip mall or otherwise.

Arjuna Thilakarathna, the restaurant’s namesake and owner, brings serious culinary credibility to the table. A former software engineer turned culinary school grad, Arjuna once ran a burger joint before the pandemic wiped out nearly $800,000 in investments. But food—specifically Sri Lankan food—is what he knows and loves.

“I grew up making everything fresh,” he tells us. “We make everything from scratch here.”

He launched Thilaks last June, aiming to introduce Southern Sri Lankan home cooking to Ottawa’s growing Sri Lankan community—and to anyone else who appreciates bold, handmade food. Getting a proper sign out front is a top priority. In the meantime, he recommends first-timers try the mutton kothu roti: a fiery, chopped flatbread dish that’s already become a local favourite.

Until then, look for the stairs. Follow the scent. Let the leaf guide you.


Thilaks

NOTE: In this piece, “Hakka food” refers to the Indo-Chinese cuisine that originated in India through Chinese immigrant communities—some of whom were Hakka. It’s a fusion cuisine, distinct from traditional Hakka dishes found in China, Taiwan, and Southeast Asia.\
\*﻿\**

In the old La Cabana spot on Merivale, IC 22 is quietly setting the stage for Ottawa’s most electric Hakka experience yet.

No dine-in just yet—just a bold new sign, a fresh coat of ambition, and a takeout counter where co-owner Navneet Shetty is fielding questions with the same energy that pulses through his kitchen. He’s joined by Siddharth Phuria, and together they’ve brought Hakka food—a beloved Indo-Chinese hybrid cuisine—to a corner of Ottawa that’s been waiting for just this kind of fire.

If you’re unfamiliar, think of Hakka as the rowdy, spice-packed lovechild of Indian and Southern Chinese flavours. It’s noodles and fried rice doused in soy, garlic, green chilli, and masala. It’s crispy, saucy, and made for nights with beer and friends. It’s the kind of food that unapologetically owns its fusion roots—and if you grew up in Delhi like I did, it’s also comfort food through and through.

![Crispy boneless chicken pieces enveloped in a tangy, spicy sauce infused with garlic, ginger, and green chillies, delivering a bold and satisfying Indo-Chinese flavour.](/uploads/img_8758.jpeg "IC-22 Hakka – Ottawa's Hakka Spot chilli chicken")

IC 22’s roots trace back to a commercial kitchen in Kanata. The response? Immediate and enthusiastic. “Every customer who visited was excited because it’s Hakka,” Navneet tells me. That momentum carried them to Merivale in April, where they took over the former La Cabana space—a longtime favourite of this blog that has since relocated to Holland Avenue. The vibe at IC 22 is no-frills but promising. A sign behind the counter. A kitchen humming with heat and spice. You can feel the place is just on the brink of coming to life.

I order a plate of Hakka noodles and chilli chicken. The noodles are excellent—savoury, spicy, a little smoky—and take me right back to the Friday nights of my childhood. In Delhi, that meant roadside Hakka joints, movie night with my mom, and noodles that somehow always tasted better out of foil containers than they did off a plate.

![Delicate yet firm noodles stir-fried with a harmonious blend of soy sauce, garlic, and black pepper, complemented by crunchy vegetables, offering a comforting balance of savoury and spicy notes.](/uploads/img_8759.jpeg "IC-22 Hakka – Ottawa's Hakka Spot hakka noodles")

The chilli chicken delivers on flavour. The sauce hits with garlic, fennel, and just the right amount of heat. The chicken, though, has lost a bit of its crispiness by the time I dig in—takeout will do that. My advice? Don’t wait. Eat it while it’s still piping hot. These are flavours meant to be devoured fresh and bold, not politely reheated in a microwave.

IC 22 isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s also a bit of a tease. The space is clearly being prepped for something more. Tables and chairs arrive next week. And I’ll say it now: this should be a solid boozer. The cuisine begs for beer. Spicy, loud, perfect-for-sharing food needs a cold one to go with it, and once they get their alcohol licence in a few months, I fully expect this place to hit a new stride.

The popping flavours, intense spice, and visceral desire to have a cold one along with the food meant this spot hit all the right places. The only change I’d make is to try the food while it’s hot and fresh—and it seems like you’ll be able to do so once they have their tables and chairs in place next week. And if you’re like me and can’t wait to hit it up this week itself, try to grab a bench at a park nearby and chow it down while it’s still hot and crispy. Ain’t nothing worse than some soggy chilli chicken.

IC-22 Hakka – Ottawa's Hakka Spot

Tucked into a low-key commercial plaza off Ogilvie, Laziz Broast & Mix Grill might not jump out at you—until you catch a whiff of sizzling meat and see the line of regulars ducking in and out. With a glowing 4.5-star average on Google and a menu that mixes Afghan, Pakistani and Middle Eastern staples, this spot is clearly doing something right.

After a long afternoon of shopping in Ottawa’s East End, it felt like the right place to refuel. The man behind the counter didn’t hesitate—he pointed me toward the beef tikka kabob or the tandoori chicken kabob, both house favourites. I went with the beef, and it turned out to be the kind of dish that quietly raises the bar.

Served with spiced rice, a trio of sauces, a fresh salad, and warm Afghan naan, the plate felt generous and well thought-out. The beef was beautifully marinated—deep, savoury, just a hint of smoke—and grilled to a perfect medium rare, as requested. Every bite had intention behind it.

![Tender beef tikka, fragrant rice, and three sauces that tie it all together](/uploads/processed-541c3a99-da32-4d77-b0c5-9934f9756957.jpeg "Laziz Broast & Mix Grill beef tikka kabob")

There’s a quiet balance to the meal. The sauces each offered something different—one creamy, one tangy, one with a gentle heat—but nothing overwhelmed. The salad dressing was light and homemade, the rice infused with subtle spices rather than soaked in oil, and the naan was soft, warm, and just stretchy enough to pull apart and scoop.

It’s a dish that works for almost anyone: flavourful but not fiery, rich but not greasy, and clearly made with attention. At just over $20 before tax and tip, it’s not a budget bite—but in this case, the price tags matches the care.

Laziz isn’t flashy, and it doesn’t need to be. It’s the kind of place that earns its reputation one plate at a time—and now, one more fan at a time.

Laziz Broast & Mix Grill 

Tucked into a quiet Carling strip mall, Pop’s Paninis brings serious sandwich craft to an otherwise unassuming corner of Ottawa’s west end.

Pop’s is the kind of spot that feels like it was built on lunch breaks and word-of-mouth. According to manager Caitlin, they’ve been “really busy”—a fact made obvious by the steady lunch-hour stream from nearby businesses, including a loyal dental office crew who come by on the regular. That loyal customer base might have something to do with the charming extras: a crisp coleslaw, a fresh-baked cookie, and a panini built like someone actually cares what your lunch tastes like.

Opened in 2019 by Steven—aka “Pop”—the restaurant traces its origins back to the owner’s childhood sandwich experiments, refined over years of feeding his own kids before taking the leap to open a proper shop. Today, Pop’s Paninis operates two locations: this one, just off Woodroffe near Carling, and another out in Gloucester.

You can tell there's a good team vibe here. Caitlin mentions their active TikTok account, where they post some “silly stuff,” and a ten-second timer challenge that lets customers try their luck at winning a free sandwich. There's even a working vintage rotary phone in the corner that, yes, actually makes calls.

But none of the charm would matter if the paninis didn’t deliver—and they really do.

We went for the turkey brie panini, a house favourite that leans more deli-chic than fast-casual. The roasted turkey is legit: thick-cut, tender, and freshly prepped, not the pre-sliced stuff you’d expect at this price point. Brie melts down into creamy corners, playing nicely with tart slices of apple tucked inside. The bread hits that perfect balance—crisp on the outside, soft on the inside—and holds everything together without going soggy. It’s rich without being heavy, and flavourful without drowning in sauce.

![A gooey turkey-brie panini with roasted apple, melty cheese, and golden-crisp bread—comfort food done with care.](/uploads/img_8288.jpeg "Pop’s Paninis turkey-brie panini")

At $16, it’s a little steep for a sandwich—but you’re paying for quality. And with the sides included, plus the warm welcome, it still feels like good value in today’s lunch economy.

Pop’s may be tucked away, but it's no secret anymore. Awards line the counter, and thanks to some smart social media moves, those lunch rush spikes are getting bigger by the week. It’s the kind of place that rewards your curiosity with a well-made meal, and then a cookie for the road.

Pop’s Paninis

Tucked away in the food court of Westgate Shopping Centre on Carling Avenue, Glory Shawarma offers a simple yet satisfying taste of the Middle East, with a personal touch that will make you rethink your go-to shawarma spot.

Ahmid Mohamd, a quiet yet welcoming presence behind the counter, opened Glory Shawarma just six months ago after honing his skills at Zaky Grill and Broast for a year. His decision to strike out on his own comes from a passion for crafting the perfect shawarma, one that reflects his roots and the subtle flavours he learned to appreciate while living in Jordan.

On a typical visit, Ahmid’s grill spits tender, juicy chicken, sizzling with a crispy exterior that’s kissed by just the right amount of spice. I opted for the small chicken shawarma with a drink combo for a steal at $9—a price that feels as nostalgic as it does wallet-friendly. The meat, with its subtle hint of lemon zest, strikes a delicate balance of crispy and tender. But the real kicker? Fries tucked right into the shawarma, adding heartiness and a welcome crunch that elevates the experience to something unique.

![ A piping-hot chicken shawarma, crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with fries tucked in for that extra crunch.](/uploads/img_8046.jpeg "Shawarma Glory small chicken shawarma")

I devoured half of my shawarma right there in the food court, the air filled with the mingling smells of fresh Thai dishes from the neighbouring stall. The other half? It made its way home to my partner, Danielle, who shared my excitement. She noted how light and fresh the shawarma felt—its lack of overwhelming garlic and sauce made each bite feel just right. The crunch of the vegetables, the perfect amount of tender chicken, and the fries tucked inside made it feel like the Goldilocks of shawarma—everything balanced in harmony.

At $7 for the small (which could easily pass for a medium), this is a shawarma that punches well above its weight, offering an unbeatable combination of flavour and value. So, if you’re looking to experience one of Ottawa's newest hidden culinary gems before prices inevitably rise, make your way to Westgate Shopping Centre. Glory Shawarma offers not just a meal, but a reminder of how simple, well-executed food can leave a lasting impression.

Shawarma Glory

Nestled beside a Tim Hortons on Carling Avenue, Namaste Ottawa offers a taste of the unexpected, bringing the bold flavours of Bihar to the city.

Walking into Namaste Ottawa, the inviting scent of spices immediately wraps around you, preparing your taste buds for a true culinary adventure. The minimalist design of the space is clean and welcoming, with booths lining the walls, offering a comfortable place to settle in. Images of iconic Indian landmarks like the Taj Mahal add a touch of tradition, while the televisions above the counter showcase dishes from across the Indian subcontinent, setting the stage for what’s to come.

What sets Namaste Ottawa apart is its dedication to authenticity, led by chef Pradip Kumar Jha, whose decades of experience have helped bring the flavours of eastern India’s Bihar region to Ottawa’s dining scene. A seasoned chef who’s spent over 20 years travelling and perfecting the art of traditional Indian cuisine, Jha offers a menu that spans the entire Indian subcontinent, from north to south. But it’s the Bihari dishes that steal the show, especially the Champaran-style mutton curry, a hearty, rich dish that draws you in with its deep, complex flavours.

![A generous serving of Namaste Ottawa's signature champaran-style mutton curry, slow-cooked in mustard oil for hours and served with freshly buttered tawa roti - a hearty, authentic taste of Bihar that easily feeds two people](/uploads/img_7999.jpeg "Namaste Ottawa mutton curry")

I decide to go for the mutton curry, served alongside two warm tawa rotis. As soon as it arrives, the fire-red curry, topped with fresh cilantro, beckons me to dig in. The tender goat meat falls off the bone effortlessly, its rich, smoky heat perfectly balanced with the distinct mustard oil flavour — a signature of Bihari cooking. The spicing is complex, with hints of clove and chili, adding depth and warmth that linger. Each bite feels like a journey into the heart of Bihar, and the rotis, perfectly buttery and crisp, are the ideal vessel to scoop up the delicious curry.

Namaste Ottawa’s commitment to quality is evident in every dish, from the freshly made rotis to the carefully selected ingredients. Co-owner Laheri Trivedi, originally from Gujarat, works alongside Jha to ensure that every meal served is a reflection of their passion for authentic Indian food. Since opening in November 2024, the response has been positive, with locals flocking to try dishes like the chicken lollipop and the mutton curry. The restaurant prides itself on offering exceptional food without the hefty price tag, with most menu items priced between $10 to $25, making it an affordable option for those seeking a real taste of India. My meal, which included the mutton curry and two rotis, came to a reasonable $22 — a great value considering the portion size and the quality of the food.

As I finish my meal, satisfied and eager to return, I realize that Namaste Ottawa is yet another shining example of why Ottawa’s industrial parks and strip malls often hold the best culinary surprises. With a talented chef like Jha at the helm, Namaste Ottawa is truly a destination worth discovering for those seeking real, bold Indian flavours.

Namaste Ottawa

In an unassuming corner of southeast Ottawa's industrial landscape, Adams Sausages stands as a testament to tradition and community, where the unmistakable aroma of European delicacies wafts through the air and draws in generations of faithful customers seeking authentic Central and Eastern European cuisine.

Maria Przystal's establishment, named after her late husband Adam, has been a cornerstone of Ottawa's Eastern European community since 1961, evolving from a humble factory operation into a beloved destination where second-generation Canadians return to reconnect with their cultural heritage. The shop's enduring appeal stems from its unwavering commitment to authentic products and remarkably fair pricing, achieved by maintaining relationships with traditional suppliers while deliberately avoiding excessive markup.

![Freshly made Polish sausage on a soft bun, topped with tangy sauerkraut and crafted with a proprietary spice blend that perfectly balances lean meat and traditional European flavours](/uploads/img_7950.jpeg "Adams Sausages Polish sausage on a bun")

The star attraction is undoubtedly their signature Polish sausage on a bun (just under $6), crafted with a proprietary spice blend that elevates the perfectly balanced lean-to-fat ratio of their house-made sausage. Served on a fresh bun and topped with tangy sauerkraut, this unassuming sandwich embodies the shop's philosophy of quality meeting value.

While the lunch counter bustles with activity as customers line up for sandwiches and daily soups, the rear deli section transforms into a cultural touchstone, its shelves stocked with products from across Central and Eastern Europe. It's here that newly arrived immigrants, like the Ukrainian who introduced us to this gem, find comfort in familiar sights and aromas reminiscent of home.

Przystal's dedication extends beyond mere commerce; as she poignantly states, "This is home," reflecting the deep emotional connection she maintains with her community. Her dual role as owner of both Adams Sausages and Continental Delicatessen in the market hasn't diminished her personal touch, evident in every interaction with customers and every carefully prepared item leaving her counter.

Visitors should plan their visit during lunch hours to experience the full atmosphere of the bustling counter, where sandwiches and soups of the day are served alongside the deli offerings. While credit cards aren't accepted, the exceptional value ensures that cash transactions won't strain the wallet – particularly considering the generous portions and authentic quality of each dish. Like countless family-owned establishments before it, Adams Sausages proves that sometimes the most authentic culinary experiences await in unexpected places, hidden behind industrial park facades but overflowing with tradition, warmth, and unmistakable character.

Adams Sausages

Tucked away in the corner unit of a strip mall near South Keys train station, and next to Sona the Indian Kitchen, Cheese and Olives offers a warm, authentic taste of Palestine, with dishes that reflect the passion and dedication of owner Raed Alqedra.

On a rainy March afternoon, I found myself in this cozy space with towering ceilings and warm olive green walls, patiently awaiting the arrival of my meal. The atmosphere was inviting, the smooth piano music playing softly in the background, and the space, though empty between lunch and dinner, felt like it could easily host a bustling crowd of families enjoying a meal together.

Alqedra, who opened this establishment only two months ago, had me immediately charmed with his larger-than-life personality. Originally from Gaza, Alqedra's journey to Ottawa is as colourful as his food. He’s a man of many stories—one of which includes being the first person in Ottawa to legally BBQ on charcoal—and he’s determined to bring a taste of home to the capital. His latest venture, Cheese and Olives, reflects that mission, offering an authentic Palestinian experience that is both simple and comforting.

I began my meal with the cheese and olive fatayer, a traditional flat pie that’s as comforting as it is delicious. The golden, flaky crust was packed with a savoury blend of melted cheese, olives, and herbs. The cheese was wonderfully gooey, salty, and rich, providing the perfect bite alongside the olives, which added a slight briny contrast. The black sesame sprinkled on top gave the dish a lovely finishing touch. It’s the kind of food that makes you feel at home, even if you're far from it. The cheese, I’m told, is specially sourced for the restaurant, and you can taste the quality in every bite.

![Garlicky, creamy, and finished with the smoothest olive oil—the hummus here will change how you think about this classic](/uploads/img_7936.jpeg "Cheese and Olives hummus")

Alqedra tells me his goal is to serve home-cooked food like what his mother would make—a sentiment I quickly came to understand with every dish. As I savoured the fatayer, I noticed the incredible attention to detail. From the fresh ingredients to the perfect ratio of cheese and olives, this dish was an ideal introduction to the flavours of Palestine.

![A flaky, golden crust envelops gooey cheese and briny olives, offering a bite that tastes like home](/uploads/img_7933.jpeg "Cheese and Olives cheese and olive fatayer")

The hummus I tried next was equally impressive. It was smooth, creamy, and rich with garlic, but it was the olive oil that truly made it shine. Alqedra's decision to use the highest-quality olive oil available paid off, adding a velvety depth to the hummus that set it apart from the usual. It was a simple dish, but one done so well that it made me rethink every hummus I’d had before.

To finish, I took home an order of kunafa, a dessert that combines delicate cheese with a touch of sweetness. While I didn’t have the chance to enjoy it fresh, reheating it brought out all the wonderful flavours—cheese oozing out from between the layers of sweet pastry, creating a satisfying balance that wasn’t overwhelmingly sweet, but just right.

With an average rating of 4.8 stars on Google, Cheese and Olives has already made a name for itself, and it’s easy to see why. Alqedra's commitment to authenticity and freshness shines through in everything he serves. Whether you're a regular or a newcomer, this is a place that offers both comfort and community, with every dish made from the heart.

At around $40 for three generous dishes, including leftovers for a second meal, I left feeling more than satisfied. The food is fresh, the atmosphere relaxed, and Alqedra's passion for his craft infectious. I’ll certainly be back for more—next time, I’m going for the falafel.

Cheese and Olives

In the quiet corner of a Kanata North strip mall, a small café named Luna Crepes & Café has been quietly building a devoted following among locals for 11 years, its warm presence marked by a playful vestibule sign that declares, "Dinosaurs didn't drink coffee and look how that turned out."

Behind this humble façade, owners Cigdem Gulen and her family have transformed what was once a struggling business into a beloved community hub, where 90 per cent of customers are loyal regulars and the staff knows their children's names as well as their preferred orders. The story of Luna is particularly remarkable - the owners, former television producers and medical professionals from Istanbul, fled Turkey for political reasons and chose to preserve the original name, determined to breathe new life into the establishment.

![A rich, milky cappuccino crafted with careful attention to balance, providing the ideal accompaniment to Luna's decadent desserts](/uploads/img_7896.jpeg "Luna Crepes & Café cappuccino")

The café's commitment to authenticity extends to every aspect of their operation. Unlike most establishments, they cook exclusively with olive oil, crafting everything from scratch in a kitchen that blends Mediterranean influences from Italy, France, Greece, and Turkey. Their dedication to quality is matched only by their commitment to family - they maintain early closing hours of 4 p.m. to ensure staff can spend time with their loved ones, a decision that reflects their philosophy that "business is not just serving food and coffee."

During my late-afternoon visit, the café pulsed with gentle energy as sweet jazz music filled the air and three women worked diligently behind the counter. The atmosphere was distinctly cozy, with about a dozen comfortable tables and armchairs creating an inviting space that felt more like a neighbour's living room than a commercial establishment. Even as closing time approached, the door continued to welcome new visitors, though staff politely turned away those seeking anything other than drinks and desserts.

![The tres leches cake at Luna Crepes & Café, topped with a perfectly caramelized marble surface that provides a delightful textural contrast to the moist, milk-soaked sponge below](/uploads/img_7895.jpeg "Luna Crepes & Café tres leches cake")

The pièce de résistance proved to be their tres leches cake, a masterpiece of balance and texture. The marble-topped caramel formed a perfectly gooey crust that adhered delightfully to my beard, while the cake itself maintained a delicate egg wash flavour beneath its generous soaking of three types of milk. Paired with a milky cappuccino, the total bill came to approximately $16 - perhaps slightly higher than average but entirely justified by the generous portion sizes and evident care in preparation.

As I departed, I caught sight of their patio area, adorned with a West Ottawa Business Excellence Award sticker from 2017, promising warmer days to come. Though the patio remained closed on this early March afternoon, Gulen's simple "soon" suggested that spring's arrival would bring new life to this already vibrant community space.

Luna Crepes & Cafe

Hidden within the walls of Desi Price Club, a South Asian grocery store in Ottawa's industrial landscape, Minhazuddin Ahmed has brought forth a culinary gem that embodies the authentic spirit of Bengali cuisine.

What sets Desi Takeout apart is its unwavering commitment to authenticity. Unlike many establishments that rely on commercial spice blends, Ahmed's wife crafts her own recipes from scratch, meticulously grinding spices at home. This dedication to simplicity extends to their preparation methods - notably avoiding tomatoes and nuts in favour of pure, unadulterated flavours.

The restaurant's signature fish curry (rohu) presents a masterclass in balanced flavours, with meaty, tender fish complemented by a fragrant tadka - the traditional South Asian technique of tempering spices in hot oil to release their full aromatic potential. For enthusiasts of fish skin, this dish offers an especially rewarding experience.

Their chotpoti, a traditional Bengali street food, showcases the authentic flavours of Bangladesh. This hearty snack combines boiled eggs, potatoes, and chickpeas with a spicy tamarind sauce, served with crispy puri bread. The dish exemplifies the restaurant's commitment to authentic Bengali cuisine, with each component carefully prepared to create a harmonious balance of flavours and textures. Both dishes showcase the freshness of ingredients and home-style preparation that makes each bite feel like a visit to someone's kitchen.

![Rohu is a prized freshwater fish native to South Asia, particularly cherished in Bengali cuisine for its firm, flaky texture and mild flavor, making it a traditional favorite in Bangladesh where it's often served in elaborate preparations for special occasions and celebrations](/uploads/img_7876.jpeg "Desi Takeout fish curry ")

Both the fish curry and chotpoti are priced very reasonably, with my total coming to around $20 for both. As the restaurant's biryani specialist, Ahmed demonstrates particular care with this cornerstone dish, recently reducing its price by nearly $5 to make it more accessible to customers, with the signature chicken biryani priced at just $10.

![Chotpoti, the Bengali street food classic, combines boiled eggs, potatoes, and chickpeas with spicy tamarind sauce and crispy puri bread](/uploads/img_7879.jpeg "Desi Takeout chotpoti")

Given the intimate nature of the operation, Ahmed strongly recommends calling ahead with orders. This small-batch approach ensures each dish receives the attention it deserves, resulting in food that tastes genuinely homemade rather than mass-produced.

While Ahmed acknowledges the typical challenges of launching a new venture, customer response has been encouraging. "Business is good," he notes, though he tempers this optimism with the realistic perspective of someone still navigating the early stages of entrepreneurship.

Like many hidden gems featured on Eat the Strip, Desi Takeout proves that sometimes the most authentic culinary experiences await discovery in unexpected locations. The combination of homemade spice blends, careful preparation methods, and family recipes makes this takeout-only establishment a valuable addition to Ottawa's South Asian dining scene.

Desi Takeout

Hidden in an industrial park, across from a winter snow dump, lies The Sandwich Stop - a culinary treasure that proves sometimes the best food comes from unexpected places.

Walking into this bustling takeout spot during lunch rush reveals a kitchen alive with activity. Three staff members work efficiently behind the counter while Ottawa Senators commentary plays on the radio, adding to the casual, welcoming atmosphere. A photo of Seinfeld's Soup Nazi adorns the wall, bringing a touch of whimsy to the industrial setting. The menu board features creative sandwich names like The Big Mouth and Manny's Sangwich, while staff wear black t-shirts emblazoned with the cheeky hashtag #nevertrustaskinnychef.

Owner Manny Mellios, who opened The Sandwich Stop in 2017, brings 45 years of restaurant experience to this modest location. Previously operating a 300-seat establishment in Bell's Corners, he made the deliberate choice to downscale to focus on personal connections with customers. "Do I miss the big store? Sure," he admits, "but I like this - it's a lot more personal." His brother joined him in the business venture, bringing their combined expertise to this intimate setting.

Despite describing his location as "the worst in the city of Ottawa," regulars flock here from across town. Customers drive from Kanata specifically to visit, with one enthusiast declaring it "the best part of my week." Manny takes pride in knowing people make the effort to seek out his shop, saying, "Everything we do, we make the sandwich for you. Every sandwich is personal."

![A behemoth of a sandwich that defies conventional lifting techniques, The Sandwich Stop's beef brisket creation combines tender house-cut meat with caramelized onions atop a sturdy Kaiser roll - a meal that doubles as both lunch and dinner](/uploads/img_7833.jpeg "The Sandwich Stop beef brisket sandwich")

The beef brisket sandwich exemplifies this commitment to quality. Available exclusively on Fridays, this specialty offering costs just over $16 - a premium price justified by the generous portion and exceptional quality. Cut in-house daily, the meat melts in your mouth with the richness reminiscent of Montreal smoked meat. Paired with caramelized onions and served on a crispy Kaiser roll, these massive portions easily serve as both lunch and dinner. As noted by my partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle, "you need four hands to lift the sandwiches" - a testament to the generous serving size.

![Danielle tackles The Sandwich Stop's The Pig sandwich, featuring sweet and abundant meat piled high on a fresh Kaiser roll - a portion so generous it challenges the laws of physics and appetite](/uploads/img_7834.jpeg "The Sandwich Stop The Pig ")

Most of The Sandwich Stop's other creations come in at just over $10 each, representing excellent value for the generous portions and freshly prepared ingredients. While prices will increase next month due to unavoidable inflation pressures affecting everything from meat to lettuce, the current price point remains reasonable considering the homemade ingredients and substantial portion size. As Manny builds community through his craft, The Sandwich Stop stands as a prime example of why Ottawa's industrial parks deserve exploration - sometimes the best meals hide in plain sight, waiting to be discovered.

The Sandwich Stop

In the strip malls and industrial parks of Ottawa’s suburbs, some of the best dining experiences hide in plain sight. And if you’re a sushi lover with a penchant for the sublime, Nagi Sushi is one of those hidden gems, nestled quietly in Orléans. It’s a spot that, if you haven’t heard of it yet, you’re doing yourself a disservice by not seeking it out.

I was fortunate enough to snag one of the first spots at the counter when I arrived just after 11:30 a.m. The moment I stepped in, a wave of calm washed over me. The gentle piano music playing in the background, the soft glow of lanterns overhead, and the serene, welcoming space set the perfect stage for a sushi experience like no other. You don’t feel rushed here—you’re simply invited to slow down, take in the moment, and enjoy some of the finest sushi Ottawa has to offer.

If the name sounds familiar, it’s because Nagi is the latest venture of Moriyuki Hiroha, a sushi legend who spent over 30 years crafting delicate sushi at C'est Japon à Suisha, the iconic Slater Street restaurant that Ottawa’s sushi connoisseurs came to love before it closed in 2023. Hiroha has brought his expertise and passion for top-quality ingredients to this new venture in Orléans, and it’s already making waves. As he prepared my meal, Hiroha told me that he’s thrilled to see both his loyal Suisha customers and locals from the surrounding area filling up his new restaurant. He says about half of the guests at Nagi are former Suisha regulars—a testament to his long-standing reputation for excellence.

![A little bit of everything to please the senses—from shrimp with a delicate, dim sum-inspired filling to fresh maki rolls, chirashi, and a perfectly charred pork skewer, a Shokado bento box that’s as satisfying as it is visually stunning](/uploads/img_7768.jpeg "Nagi Sushi Shokado bento box")

Hiroha’s commitment to the freshest ingredients is evident in every dish. The fish—especially the bluefin tuna—arrives fresh every weekend. He sources his products from Europe, Nova Scotia, British Columbia and Mexico, depending on a roster that changes according to the catch seasons. But while the sushi here is the star of the show, Nagi is more than just a sushi spot—it’s a place where every element of the meal is thoughtfully crafted, from the perfectly balanced miso soup to the delicate tempura.

During my visit, I sampled the bento box, which included a variety of goodies. The standout, by far, were the shrimp dumplings. These little gems had the texture of a perfect dim sum har gow—steamy, tender, and bursting with flavour. Between bites, I cleansed my palate with the crunchy pickled vegetables and turnips, refreshing and tangy. The maki rolls and chirashi were fresh and satisfying, but I kept thinking back to the octopus and clam dish Hiroha had graciously served me. The octopus, imported from Spain, was like nothing I’ve tasted before—creamy, tender, and perfectly complemented by a homemade vinaigrette. It was simple but artful, the kind of dish you want to savour slowly, almost feeling bad about eating because it’s just so beautiful.

![The chef’s generous gift of octopus and clam in a homemade vinaigrette is a lesson in simplicity and elegance](/uploads/img_7770.jpeg "Nagi Sushi Shokado octopus and clam sushi")

The pork skewer in the bento box was also lovely, though it was almost eclipsed by my true favourite: the chicken karaage. There’s just something about that crispy, golden coating and the tender chicken inside that never fails to hit the spot. The karaage here at Nagi is a step above your usual fried chicken; it’s fresh, hot, and salty without being overwhelming—exactly what you want when you’re craving comfort food with a little bit of flair.

And then, the bento box surprise: the daifuku dessert. This Japanese rice cake with a pancake-like exterior and a nougaty interior was the perfect sweet finish, both chewy and creamy, with a subtle richness that rounded out the meal beautifully.

One of the things that really sets Nagi apart from other sushi joints is Hiroha’s magic at the sushi counter. Watching him work is like witnessing an artist in action—every slice of fish, every roll of rice, carefully crafted with precision and passion. If you’re lucky enough to grab a seat in front of him, you’ll see the care that goes into every piece of sushi. It’s an experience worth having, not just a meal, and one that will make you feel as if you've had a spiritual retreat rather than just lunch.

![Crispy, tender, and perfectly seasoned, Nagi’s chicken karaage is the ultimate comfort food with a touch of elegance](/uploads/img_7769.jpeg "Nagi Sushi chicken karaage")

At $60 for my bento box and extra dishes, it’s an investment, but it’s worth every penny. The quality of the ingredients, the skill of the chef, and the serene ambiance make it clear that this is the kind of sushi experience you’ll want to come back to again and again. Be sure to make a reservation if you're planning to visit, especially on weekends—the word is getting out, and Nagi fills up fast.

Nagi Sushi

Manotick may feel like the boonies to some, but it’s home to a few hidden gems that are well worth the drive. Tucked in a humble strip mall between a weed shop and an indie grocery store is The Olive Branch, a cozy spot that proves you don’t need to be in the city centre to serve up fantastic food.

I arrived on a chilly February afternoon, driving through Manotick’s picturesque main street lined with quirky shops and nostalgic small-town vibes. The strip mall is easy to miss, but it’s well worth the stop. I walked in, greeted immediately by the server, who promptly led me to a seat by the window where the light streamed in, warming me up from the cold. The place has the feel of a neighbourhood restaurant—casual, friendly, and super welcoming. You’ll notice the 2024 Ottawa Awards plaque on the wall when you step inside, a quiet testament to the quality of this hidden gem.

Owner Andreas Fountotos, who’s been in the restaurant biz for over 20 years, always dreamed of opening a Greek restaurant that not only served delicious food but also brought a sense of community together. His passion for Greek cuisine is clear. You can really taste the care in the food, thanks in part to Andreas’s commitment to using ingredients imported straight from Greece—olive oil, spices, and more.

![A fresh and vibrant Greek salad, with crisp cucumbers, tangy feta, and a burst of olive oil and lemon—simple, but unforgettable](/uploads/img_7706.jpeg "The Olive Branch Greek salad")

The menu boasts some serious hits, but I decided to go with the keftedes platter, a dish that’s hard to ignore once you know what’s on it. Within about 15 minutes, the dish arrived, accompanied by the warm, rhythmic pulse of catchy Greek music setting the tone. Let’s talk food: the fries were drizzled with a zesty garlic vinaigrette that’s just too good—tangy, fresh, and honestly the perfect match for the crispy golden fries.

The keftedes, juicy little beef patties lightly spiced with oregano and dill, came hot off the grill. Paired with tzatziki that’s refreshingly cool and smooth, they were just what I needed to escape the frigid Ottawa winter. And the long-grain rice? Soaked in meat juices and vinaigrette, it was a satisfying mouthful with every bite. I took a moment to savour the fresh salad that accompanied the meal—crunchy cucumbers, onions, and feta tossed in olive oil and lemon. Simple ingredients, done right.

![Crispy, juicy keftedes paired with medallion-seasoned rice, golden fries, and a refreshing dollop of tzatziki—this platter is the perfect Greek comfort food](/uploads/img_7705.jpeg "The Olive Branch keftedes")

Jonny Lopez, the restaurant’s manager, shared a little behind-the-scenes magic with me. He and Andreas have been running The Olive Branch together for three years now, and their dedication to fresh, authentic food shines through. Jonny’s had his time working at a Michelin-star restaurant in the UK, so he knows a thing or two about quality ingredients, and they bring that level of precision to everything they do here. Every single dish is made to order; nothing is pre-made or frozen. It’s all about authenticity. No shortcuts.

And it shows. The Olive Branch has earned an average of 4.9 stars on Google at the time of writing, a testament to the care they put into every dish. Jonny said they’re looking to expand soon, but they want to take their time to ensure the restaurant is fully established before they take that leap.

But here’s the thing: The Olive Branch is already doing it right. It’s the kind of place where you feel like you’re getting a home-cooked meal with a level of quality that you might expect from a much bigger, more established spot—only it’s tucked away in the unassuming charm of a strip mall in Manotick. Whether you’re craving a hearty platter or just a quiet meal in a comfortable spot, this place has got you covered. 

A platter will set you back just over $30 but I had enough leftovers to make two meals of it. So, the next time you find yourself driving through Manotick, don’t skip over this strip mall gem. The Olive Branch is one of those spots you’ll want to visit again and again. And trust me, once you’ve had those fries and keftedes, you’ll know exactly what I mean.

The Olive Branch

UPDATE: As of June 2025, this restaurant has rebranded as Khalil Seafood, though it remains under the same ownership. While the title has been updated to reflect this change, the original article still refers to the restaurant by its previous name.

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Tucked away in a strip mall in Orleans, Rayan Poissonnerie & Restaurant offers a unique seafood experience that takes you straight to the Mediterranean—no passport required.

Upon entering, you're immediately greeted by the hum of the open kitchen and a lively atmosphere filled with the sounds of sizzling seafood. A striking mural of a deep-sea world, complete with fish and a view of the The Great Pyramid of Giza, transports you to a faraway seaside city—especially welcoming during Ottawa’s cold winter months.

At Rayan, there’s no menu; instead, you walk up to the counter to choose your seafood, where the fresh offerings are on full display. The lack of decision fatigue allows you to focus on the experience, which starts with picking your fish and ends with it being cooked right before your eyes.

On my visit, I went with a bowl of salad and a generous handful of perfectly fried calamari. The salad was a refreshing combination of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, cabbage, and onions. The zesty lemon and olive oil made for a tangy kick that served as the ideal appetizer before the main event.

![A zesty garden salad that's as refreshing as a Mediterranean breeze](/uploads/img_7640.jpeg "Rayan Poissonnerie & Restaurant salad")

The calamari, on the other hand, was nothing short of perfection. Crunchy on the outside and tender on the inside, the secret spice blend added a depth of flavour that was utterly satisfying. With a squeeze of lemon and a dip into the house-made tartar sauce, I was transported to my first encounter with calamari in Toronto’s Chinatown, where the crispy fried rings stole my heart. The side of tartar sauce rounded out the experience, bringing comfort to the otherwise brisk winter day.

![Crispy, golden calamari that brings comfort on a cold winter day](/uploads/img_7650.jpeg "Rayan Poissonnerie & Restaurant calamari")

Chef Hassan shared that the Ottawa location of Rayan Poissonnerie opened in 2015, and while the business has been successful, it’s their special spice blend that’s been key to its enduring popularity. The restaurant also has several locations in Montreal, where patrons can enjoy fresh Mediterranean-style seafood, soups, and barbecued dishes. “If you like seafood or fish, just come here and enjoy,” he says with a smile. And given the pay-by-weight pricing, it’s easy to enjoy a fulfilling meal without breaking the bank—my salad and calamari cost me just $16.

Fatima, a loyal customer who reached out to us after hearing about the restaurant, couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about Rayan’s offerings. She raved about their fried shrimp, sautéed cod, and tilapia, and like many regulars, she’s made the 30-minute drive from the south side of Ottawa just for a taste of this hidden gem.

Despite being in an unlikely spot, Rayan Poissonnerie & Restaurant offers a truly unique dining experience—one that will have you coming back for more. Whether you're a seafood lover or simply looking for something different, Rayan’s Mediterranean-style dishes are sure to impress.

Khalil Seafood

A new crêperie tucked away in a Kanata strip mall is offering a taste of Paris to Ottawa’s food scene.

Le Petit Paris - Crêpes et Compagnie Inc., opened in September 2024, is the passion project of Nene Coumba Ba, a trained chef from Paris, and Guy Bisson, her partner from Manitoba. The couple, who met on a flight returning from Paris, decided to open the takeout-only spot after Nene saw an opportunity to bring an authentic French crêpe experience to the Ottawa area.

From the moment we walked in, we were welcomed warmly by Guy, who greeted us with a smile. The small, takeout-focused space immediately evokes the charm of a Parisian café. The walls are adorned with nostalgic images of Paris, a framed picture of the Mona Lisa, and even a photo of the couple beside their city permit. This intimate atmosphere made us feel at home, and Nene and Guy’s enthusiasm for their business was infectious.

Though still in the early stages of their journey, Guy noted that the response so far has been overwhelmingly positive. "It’s been a very warm reception," he said, adding that they’re learning and growing with each day. With a five-star rating on Google, it’s clear that the community is embracing the crêperie as their own.

As we chatted with the couple, a regular customer eagerly recommended the choux au caramel, one of the shop’s most popular items. And it’s no surprise, given the steady flow of customers eagerly awaiting their turn. We couldn’t leave without trying a couple of standout crêpes.

The La new yorkaise, a savoury creation, features marinated ground beef, cheddar, pickle, salad, and tomato. The crêpe itself was delicate and soft, and the fresh basil, caramelized onions, and Dijon-style sauce blended perfectly with the melted cheese. It was a satisfying and refreshing start to our day.

![A savoury bite of Paris in every fold, with marinated ground beef, cheddar, and caramelized onions wrapped in a delicate crêpe](/uploads/img_7563.jpeg "Le Petit Paris - Crêpes et Compagnie Inc. La new yorkaise")

For dessert, we opted for the La caramilsee, a sweet combination of Nutella and homemade salted caramel. Despite not being a fan of salted caramel, my partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle couldn’t resist the rich, oozing caramel with its rum-brandy essence. It was a decadent indulgence, though one that’s best shared—it’s rich enough to make a mess, especially when enjoyed in the car, as we did.

We paid just under $20 for both crêpes. The portions were generous and we left feeling full and content. Nene and Guy have certainly created a unique offering in Ottawa’s food scene, and with a growing base of loyal customers, it seems likely that La Crêperie Parisienne will continue to grow.

For anyone looking to experience a little taste of Paris, Le Petit Paris - Crêpes et Compagnie Inc. is a must-try. It’s not just the food, but the warmth of the owners and the authenticity of the experience that makes this spot a true hidden gem.

Le Petit Paris - Crêpes et Compagnie Inc.

It’s easy to overlook Polka Delicatessen, located in a strip mall between a cell phone repair shop and a make-your-own wine space. But step inside, and it’s clear this small, unassuming store has become a fixture for Ottawa’s Polish community—and for anyone craving a taste of authentic Eastern European deli fare.

The interior is modest but filled with character. Shelves are lined with imported goods, from chocolates and candies to jars of jams and grains. Murals of vibrant flowers decorate the walls, and the heart of the shop is the glass deli counter. Behind it, a no-nonsense team of women work quickly, slicing meats and assembling sandwiches as customers speak Polish among themselves, creating an unmistakable atmosphere of familiarity.

![An array of expertly sliced meats and Polish delicacies ready to be packed into your next satisfying sandwich or enjoyed on their own](/uploads/img_7501.jpeg "Polka Delicatessen deli counter")

Owner Agnes Kozlowska opened Polka Delicatessen six years ago. Since then, the deli has steadily built a loyal following, most of whom are Polish expats. Still, despite the rising costs of ingredients, Agnes and her team try to keep prices affordable. Deli sandwiches, which began at $4.59, now sit at $6—a small increase for a generous portion.

I tried a turkey sandwich and a hunter sausage on my visit. The turkey, served on a thick kaiser roll, came with a healthy dollop of mayonnaise and mustard, along with a subtle sweetness from the pickles that balanced the flavours nicely. The sandwich was a satisfying meal in itself, filling without being overwhelming.

![A hearty turkey sandwich on a freshly baked kaiser roll, piled high with flavourful deli meats, tangy pickles, and just the right amount of mayo and mustard](/uploads/img_7505.jpeg "Polka Delicatessen turkey sandwich")

The standout, however, was the hunter sausage: dry, peppery, and rich with fat. Its dry texture reminded me of kubasa, but with a sharper, spiced finish. Paired with the fresh kaiser roll, it made for a simple yet hearty meal—exactly the kind of food you’d want to grab when you're in a rush but still craving something with depth.

There’s nothing flashy about Polka Delicatessen. It’s not trying to be a trendy hotspot. But it’s this straightforwardness—combined with the quality of the food—that makes it a hidden gem. While the deli’s location in a strip mall may not be immediately eye-catching, the loyal clientele and efficient service speak volumes about what’s on offer: authentic, flavour-packed sandwiches and an array of Polish meats and goods. If you're looking for something satisfying, quick, and deeply rooted in tradition, Polka Delicatessen delivers, no questions asked.

Polka Delicatessen

In the heart of Richmond, Blue Diamond Bar & Grill blends the best of both worlds: a family-friendly sports bar and a bustling small-town breakfast joint, all while serving up authentic Punjabi cuisine. 

Located in an unassuming strip mall, the restaurant immediately grabs your attention with its vibrant purple walls and the inviting aroma of Indian spices that fill the air. As you step inside, it’s clear this isn’t just another neighbourhood pub. The mix of sports bar energy—complete with Sunday football on six screens—and the unmistakable warmth of a family-run business gives the place a unique, welcoming vibe. Saj, the son who runs the restaurant with his parents, greets each regular with a friendly word, contributing to the sense that this is as much a community gathering spot as it is a place to enjoy a meal.

Despite its dive-bar exterior, the food is a standout. The menu, a blend of Canadian pub favourites and Punjabi comfort food, offers something for everyone. As I flipped through the options, it was the traditional Indian dishes that caught my eye—especially sarson ka saag, a wintertime classic from Punjab. I couldn’t resist trying it. When the dish arrived, it was everything I hoped for: spicy, creamy, and full of depth. The mustard greens were cooked to perfection, delivering a mustardy, slightly tangy kick, and paired beautifully with tandoori roti. 

![Sarson ka saag is a traditional Punjabi dish made from mustard greens, cooked with spices, and often enjoyed with makki di roti, making it a perfect match for a cold beer](/uploads/img_7470.jpeg "Blue Diamond Bar & Grill sarson ka saag")

While Blue Diamond serves up familiar pub staples like burgers and wraps, the Punjabi dishes are what truly set it apart. Saj’s mother, who runs the kitchen, is behind every flavourful plate, and her expertise is evident in each bite. The restaurant, which opened in 2017, has grown in popularity thanks to word-of-mouth alone. Saj notes that while there’s been zero marketing, the restaurant’s authentic, home-style cooking and community feel have made it a favourite for locals—especially for breakfast, which is always bustling with families and early risers.

For those new to the menu, the butter chicken mac and cheese is a popular choice, combining Canadian comfort with Indian flavours. But it’s the traditional Punjabi dishes, like sarson ka saag, that truly shine.

While $30 per person is slightly higher than the typical fare at local strip mall joints, the authenticity of Blue Diamond’s food makes it worth every cent. The combination of hearty, flavour-packed dishes, chilled beer, and a warm, family-friendly atmosphere makes this Richmond spot one worth seeking out—whether you’re craving a post-game snack or a comforting Indian meal with a side of local charm.

Blue Diamond Bar & Grill

If you're craving authentic Greek flavours in a cozy, welcoming setting, look no further than The Greek Souvlaki House. This family-owned gem has been serving up delicious, home-cooked Greek classics since 2013. With its blue and white décor, reminiscent of the beautiful Greek islands, stepping inside feels like entering a warm, inviting home. It's the kind of place where regulars are greeted by name, and the smell of charbroiled meats fills the air.

The restaurant itself is small but charming, with just seven tables, making it the perfect spot for a laid-back meal. The walls are adorned with scenic photos of Greece, and there's a small counter at the front where customers can grab coffee or takeout. One of the unique features here is the tablets at each table that let you browse through the menu with photos of the dishes. This is especially handy for those unfamiliar with Greek cuisine, but don't worry—whether you're a novice or a regular, the staff is more than happy to guide you through the menu.

![Taramasalata is a creamy, tangy Greek dip made from salted caviar, olive oil, lemon juice, and bread or potato](/uploads/img_7447.jpeg "The Greek Souvlaki House taramasalata")

We started our meal with a classic Greek appetizer: the taramosalata. This creamy, tangy dip, made from salted roe, instantly transported us to the Mediterranean. It had just the right amount of saltiness, with a texture that felt smooth yet hearty. My partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle mentioned that it reminded her of being by the sea—a perfect start to our meal.

For the main course, we ordered the chicken souvlaki platter and were impressed by the freshness and flavour of the ingredients. The Greek salad was fresh and zesty, with crunchy vegetables and feta in just the right proportion. The homemade dressing added a lovely tang, and the potatoes, which were beautifully charred and crispy, rounded out the dish perfectly. The chicken was grilled to perfection—juicy on the inside, with a deliciously smoky flavour from the charred bits. The tzatziki, with its subtle dill notes, elevated the entire meal, providing a creamy contrast to the savoury chicken.

![A classic platter featuring tender marinated two souvlaki skewers, roasted potatoes, rice topped with homemade spiro sauce, and a side of Greek salad or soup](/uploads/img_7451.jpeg "The Greek Souvlaki House chicken souvlaki platter")

As we were enjoying our meal, we overheard a regular at the counter sharing her long-time love for the restaurant: “I’m always here,” she said. If I’m not physically here, I’m Uber Eats-ing. I always tell people it’s the best.” Her enthusiasm echoed the sentiments of many who frequent The Greek Souvlaki House for its high-quality, made-from-scratch dishes, including the moussaka and the highly recommended lentil soup, which Mike, the co-owner, insists everyone try before it’s gone for the season.

For just over $30, we had more than enough food for a satisfying meal, with plenty of leftovers to take home. Whether you're a loyal customer or a first-time visitor, The Greek Souvlaki House is a must-try for anyone looking for Greek comfort food in Ottawa. The combination of warm service, delicious food, and a cozy atmosphere make it a spot worth returning to time and time again.

The Greek Souvlaki House

If you're ever driving down Bank Street and find yourself drawn to the tantalizing smell of sizzling meat and spices, follow your nose to Samoona. Nestled in a strip mall near Billings Bridge, this small but cozy Iraqi eatery has been quietly winning over food lovers since opening two years ago. Though it’s easy to miss at first, a stop here is more than worth it—especially if you're craving fresh, flavourful kebabs, creamy hummus, and homemade flatbreads.

Stepping inside Samoona feels like entering a warm, welcoming kitchen. The interior is small, with room for just 10 diners, but the atmosphere is cozy and inviting. One of the highlights is a vibrant mural depicting iconic Iraqi mosques. The space is simple but meaningful, with a mix of bright colours and earthy tones. Behind the counter, two servers work in sync, preparing orders for both dine-in customers and the constant stream of takeout regulars.

![The half kabab platter came with two skewers of lamb, grilled tomatoes, onions, pickles, olives, samoon bread and dips](/uploads/img_7391.jpeg "Mr. Samoona Grill & Bakery kabab platter")

What makes Samoona stand out, however, is the open grill at the back of the restaurant, where skewers of tender, spiced meat and onions sizzle over a live fire. The aroma that fills the air is enough to make you hungry even if you weren't before. I was lucky enough to chat with Ahmed, one of the servers, who shared that his cousin, Firas, owns the restaurant. The place has built a loyal following, with many customers returning for the same satisfying meal.

After about 15 minutes, my kabab platter arrived—a delicious combination of two perfectly cooked skewers of minced meat and onions, lightly spiced and topped with sumac. The meat was juicy and tender, a contrast to the crunchy grilled vegetables. The dish is served with a generous portion of soft, warm flatbread, including the signature samoon—puffy, golden, and topped with sesame seeds. It’s the ideal vessel for scooping up the creamy hummus and a zingy garlic sauce that accompanies the meal.

For just $15, this meal was both filling and flavourful—an absolute steal. The balance of spices, the freshness of the bread, and the richness of the grilled meat made for a meal that was as comforting as it was delicious. Ahmed recommended I try the falafel next time, explaining that their version is quite different from the varieties typically found in other Arab countries. I’m intrigued to see what makes it stand out.

Though Samoona may be small in size, its impact is big. Whether you're grabbing takeout or dining in, this place is a must-try for anyone looking to explore authentic Iraqi flavours. The kebabs, the breads, and the dips all come together for a meal that’s not just satisfying, but also a reminder of how great food can transport you to another place.

Mr. Samoona Grill & Bakery

I left work tonight craving Nigerian food—grilled meats, spicy curries, and pounded yams were all I could think of as I raced across the parking lot toward my car, with the temperature dropping to -13°C.

I headed south on Bank Street, crossing Hunt Club Road, and began scanning the street for my destination: Detola's Kitchen. I pulled into the strip mall’s parking lot, guided by the restaurant’s illuminated sign. The spot was just across from a Honda dealership. As I entered, a vibrant mural spanned the wall, welcoming me into the clean, colourful interior. Posters of Nigerian dishes like jollof rice adorned one wall, while photos and maps of Lagos, Nigeria’s largest city, lined the opposite wall. A television played Yoruba gospel music in the background. After placing my order for fufu and egusi, I made my way to one of the five small tables.

![Fufu is a soft, stretchy dough made from boiled starchy vegetables like cassava or yam, commonly served as a side to soak up rich stews and soups in West African cuisine](/uploads/img_7328.jpeg "Detola's Kitchen fufu")

I had first heard about egusi from a Nigerian friend years ago, but I’ll admit—until tonight, I’d never tried it. When my meal arrived, Detola herself popped out from the kitchen, complimenting me on my choice and quipping that it would “take me directly to Africa.” I eagerly broke off pieces of the doughy fufu and scooped up the rich stew, laden with chunks of charred beef. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. The stew was a comforting blend where earthy, nutty melon seeds thickened the broth and complemented the tender beef. The dish balanced spicy heat from habanero peppers with savoury depth from stock, while bitter greens added a subtle contrast. Creamy, hearty, and deeply satisfying, it was a flavourful, vibrant staple. I appreciated that I didn’t have to specify the heat level—it was perfect as it was, a default that Detola and her team had deemed just right. But for those worried about the spice, I’m told you can adjust the heat to your liking.

![Egusi is a comforting Nigerian dish featuring doughy fufu served with a rich, nutty melon seed stew, tender beef, and a balance of spicy heat and savoury flavours](/uploads/img_7329.jpeg "Detola's Kitchen ajepako")

The meal cost just over $20, a bit more than we typically spend, but the quality made it more than worth it. Detola’s food is unique, authentic, and perfect for this weather. Don’t just take my word for it—the constant stream of Uber Eats drivers and regulars picking up takeout speaks volumes about Detola’s Kitchen.

Detola, who previously ran a restaurant on Shillington Avenue with colleagues, opened this spot in 2023 with her children. Business has been steady, though, like many restaurateurs, she’s faced challenges with staff retention. To maintain quality and consistency, she focuses on training her team to meet the high standards customers expect. She’s especially proud of her egusi, which customers often tell her is the best in the city. This may have been our first time trying it at Eat the Strip, but I’m sure it won’t be our last.

Detola's Kitchen

For our last Eat the Strip outing of 2024, we headed east towards the Ottawa Train Yards.

One of our readers had written to us in early December urging us to go try Chickpeas, a Palestinian eatery that opened in 2016. We did a little bit of digging around and found out it's one of the city’s few fully vegan restaurants. In fact, I’m hard pressed to think of a vegan Middle Eastern eatery in the city.

We visited last Sunday. In contrast to the cold and grey weather outside, Chickpeas was warm and inviting. From the outside the restaurant looked like a literal hole in the wall, but it is surprisingly spacious inside. Over half a dozen tables lined the orange walls. The smell of fresh falafel cooking in hot oil wafted from the kitchen. We were greeted by Ahmad Joudeh, the executive chef. He runs the restaurant with his brothers and father. 

Ahmad helped us navigate the menu. While there is a mix of traditional and modern Middle Eastern food available, I decided to order the hummus fatteh. My partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle decided to order the koshari, an Egyptian dish recently added to the menu.

![Fatteh is a popular Levantine dish of toasted bread and warm chickpeas is served with a cool, tangy yogurt sauce](/uploads/img_7268.jpeg "Chickpeas fatteh")

The chickpeas are cooked perfectly. Delicious hummus and olive oil coated my pita chips. We scooped it all up with spiced yogurt, fried almonds and chickpeas. It was tantalizingly crunchy, and the hummus was some of the tastiest we’ve had. I had a hard time deciding if I preferred the fatteh here or the one served by Ottawa Falafel House. Both are exceptional. The koshari was a beautiful mix of east and west. It’s a widely popular Egyptian street food that we were getting to try for the first time. It’s made from rice, black lentils, pasta, tomato sauced fried onions and, you guessed it, chickpeas. The lentils were lightly spiced and reminded us of a nice wintertime stew. We had a good amount left over to take home, too.

![In addition to the garlic and tomato sauce, the koshari came with a side of a chilli paste that had some much-welcome heat given the cold weather outside](/uploads/img_7269.jpeg "Chickpeas koshari")

Business has been going well, said Ahmad, who used to be an executive chef in Dubai prior to moving to Canada. They originally had three locations but closed two during the pandemic. Now they’re looking to expand again. A little bit of experimenting by Ahmad’s brother, Omar, now a police officer, led to a menu featuring seven different types of hummus, which the family recommends people try by ordering their signature bowls and wraps.

Two of us ate for around $25. We’ll happily be back to oblige Ahmad and try the bowls and wraps next time.

Chickpeas

We were looking to try something different when we received an email recently from one of our readers about a place serving submarine sandwiches with an interesting twist.

Four over four years Subtown has been selling Lebanese-style subs from its Walkley Road location. The restaurant sells over 20 different sandwiches and platters to choose from, all of which are made fresh daily. 

Now, if you’re like me and had no idea what Lebanese subs were, you’re in for a treat. Hussein, who runs the store with his brother, told me that there are two types of street food that reign supreme in Lebanon—shawarma and subs. The first we’re quite familiar with here in the Shawarma Capital of Canada. However, Hussein and his family are now trying to introduce the capital region to the Lebanese subs that are ubiquitous back in Lebanon.

![The Mexican chicken sub, left, was spicy and came with cheese, whereas the taouk chicken sub, right, came with fries](/uploads/img_6676.jpg "Subtown Mexican chicken and taouk chicken")

We visited the restaurant on Monday evening. Bright red walls greet you as you enter, with sumptuous looking deserts behind a glass counter to your left. In front of you is a glass container with a several toppings, including spiced beef, chicken and shrimp. A box of roasted potatoes sits next to them. There is a dining area adjacent to the kitchen with a TV playing the news in Arabic.

Hussein welcomes us and tells us some of the quintessential Lebanese meals on the menu are only available for breakfast, including ras asfour—a tangy meatball stew—and fava bean stew. Breakfast is available from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. every day except Tuesday. Instead, we set our eyes on the sub menu. I ordered the Mexican chicken, and my partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle ordered a taouk chicken.

While preparing our subs, Hussein told us that back in Lebanon the most popular sandwich is the fries sub. (This is available on the menu at Subtown.) As the name implies, this involves a generous portion of French fries sandwiched in toasted bread served with a spread of garlic sauce. Fascinated with this blue-collar dish of the people, we were happy to hear that Danielle’s taouk sub also contained fries. Once heated up on the grill, we took our subs home to eat. 

The bread was nice and crispy, still warm from the Subtown grill. It reminded Danielle of her grandmother’s buns served at Thanksgiving. Eating pickles and fries out of a bun was excellent, she said, adding that it "just worked." As for my Mexican sub, I was a big fan of the heat from the hot peppers. The chicken was well cooked and not chewy at all. There was a pop of coriander in each bite that I really enjoyed. Moreover, the garlic sauce was on-point. I can’t state this enough—it is challenging to get the garlic sauce right. Here, the sandwich wasn’t doused in an overwhelming amount of garlic sauce. 

Each footlong sub cost us around $15. At those prices—and with such dazzling flavours—we’ll be sure to be back, especially for breakfast.

Subtown

My friend and former colleague Cynthia took me to Kanata to surprise me with some delicious baked treats back when we were in the throes of the pandemic.

I had barely been in Ottawa for a year, and I was used to Cynthia taking me to interesting locations in the region such as the Diefenbunker, Mer Bleue and Petrie Island, to name a few. I assumed we were on one of our usual adventures as we set off west from downtown. I had no idea what tasty treats were in store on that day as we headed deeper and deeper into Kanata. 

![An iconic dough pastry from northwestern France, kouign-amann takes its name from the Breton words for bread and butter](/uploads/img_6653.jpeg "La Maison du Kouign-Amann kouign-amann ")

La Maison du Kouign-Amann (pronounced “queen a-mann”) was opened less than a decade ago by Fran Jung, a French woman who worked in finance before pivoting to a career in the food business. It was sold recently to a Canadian couple that has opted not to make too many changes to the successful business. The only thing that’s changed between when Cynthia took me almost four years ago and today is the introduction of a seating area for dozens of people. 

My partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle and I visited on Sunday morning. There were several people enjoying their coffee and morning crepes. Refrigerators at the back contained several premade meals for takeout. The eatery is named after a doughy pastry originally from the Brittany region of northwest France. I remember the richness of the flaky pastry when Cynthia took me to La Maison du Kouign-Amann the first time. I wanted to see if they tasted just as good all these years later. We decided to order one to share and a Bretonne crepe. 

![The signature savoury Bretonne crepe came with mozzarella, brie, bacon, caramelized onions and baby spinach](/uploads/img_6660.jpeg "La Maison du Kouign-Amann Bretonne crepe")

The pastry was delicious. Its crunchy exterior was coated with sugar. The inside was soft and syrupy, resembling the texture of a Cinnabon. Don’t be fooled by the size of one. There’s enough butter in one to fill you right up. Our crepe arrived shortly after. It was thin and looked quite fragile. Almost each bite came with a mouth full of melted camembert cheese. We loved the caramelized onions and bits of bacon. A sprinkling of spinach made us feel a little bit better about our indulgence.

We paid a total of just over $30 for our meal, which also included a cup of coffee. With a plethora of other pastries, cakes and crepes on the menu, we were already plotting our return to Kanata as we made our way to the car.

La Maison du Kouign-Amann

Scouring strip malls can sometimes lead to gastronomic gold.

It was because we were convinced that the best food in this city is found in strip malls, industrial parks and generally in the periphery that made us start this blog. Last week, we went back to our roots to start checking out places in strip malls we hadn’t yet visited. That’s how we stumbled on Divisoria Market, a Filipino grocery store and eatery located in a strip mall on Carling Avenue, between the Ottawa Civic Hospital and Dow’s Lake. 

Although it’s moved a few times, owner Bobby Hipolito told me that Divisoria has been in its current location since 2023. Bobby also has a family-run restaurant in Orleans called Divisoria Resto Bar, which is well known for its authentic Filipino dishes.

![While they only had stews left Sunday evening, Divisoria will usually have an assortment of authentic Filipino dishes freshly made at the grocery store on weekends, including the iconic kare-kare and adobo ](/uploads/img_6451.jpeg "Divisoria Market stews")

Fortunately for us, his grocery store has a hot food counter at the back that sells equally authentic Filipino food. Longtime readers know that these types of establishments are some of our favourite. We visited Bobby’s store last Sunday, just as he was starting to close. He told us that the cost of the food is cheaper at the grocery store as it’s not a proper sit-down restaurant. He added that they were mostly sold out of hot food, save for the beef stew and pork stew. As we had some leftover rice at home, we took small containers of both, which cost us only around $10.

Both stews were excellent. While they reminded us of stews ubiquitous time of year in Canada, there was a marked difference in spices used in the dishes. You could tell the onions and garlic had been cooked down at the beginning, with bay leaves imparting an herbal flavour not dissimilar to dried oregano or thyme. We enjoyed the tender chunks of beef, and the glazed potatoes in the pork stew, which also contained chopped chorizo-like sausages. The spice mix reminded me of a hearty potato curry.

Bobby recommended patrons visit the grocery store for hot food on weekends, as that’s when they cook larger meals at the back. And if you’re lucky enough to live in Orleans, then I recommend you check out their proper sit-down restaurant. 

You won’t be disappointed.

Divisoria Market

I often get a hankering for Ethiopian food.

I’m always up for a soft injera which has soaked up flavours from spicy red lentils, kale stews and fried chunks of meat. So, when Eat the Strip reader Kylie messaged us earlier this month about Delina's Restaurant and Bar, we were all ears.

Opened in early 2023, the family-run restaurant sits at the location of a former hookah lounge in a small strip mall on Gladstone Avenue. It’s one of the few remaining downtown strip malls and is an absolute heavy hitter when it comes to delicious treats, boasting food options ranging from Middle Eastern kebabs to freshly baked bread—and now Ethiopian food.

We visited the restaurant on Friday and were greeted by two beautiful, wall-sized murals. We took a seat by the front-door and were met by Delina’s mother, who runs the kitchen while her three children assist her with cooking and serving. At her recommendation, we decided to share the Delina's 5 Way Special. This type of Ethiopian platter is my favourite, where you’re expected to use your hands to tear off injera and scoop up bits of curries, stews and salads.

For those unfamiliar with injera—it’s a spongy flatbread made with teff flour. It’s naturally gluten-free and has a nice sour taste imparted by a days-long fermenting process. While completely different from a texture standpoint, the flavours remind me a tad of Tamil dosas.

The food was brought out quickly in an Ethiopian basket, with the plate lined with injera on the top. 

Each dish was standout, only enhanced by the injera. The zesty lettuce salad had Ethiopian spicing and was a welcome tart addition to our platter. The chunks of beef in the middle were cooked the with tomatoes and onions and were nice and spicy. However, our favourites were kale dish and the misr wat—both exemplary of vegetarian dishes ubiquitous in Ethiopian cuisine.  Both were cooked perfectly and had a nice heat, thanks presumably to the berbere spice mix used. The misr wat, a red lentil stew, reminded me of daal that’s commonly eaten across the Indian subcontinent. It’s honestly one of my favourite Ethiopian dishes, and I highly recommend the variety at Delina’s.

![Berbere spice, a classic Ethiopian spice blend, includes an assortment of spices, including cumin, cardamon, fenugreek seeds and paprika, among other spices that are also very commonly used in Indian cooking ](/uploads/img_6361.jpeg "Delina's Restaurant and Bar 5 Way Special")

Our total came to the paltry sum of $28, including tips and taxes. Not only was this meal one of our favourites in 2024, but we were also extremely happy to see it didn’t break the bank either.

Delina's Restaurant and Bar

Grounded Kitchen, Coffee & Bar has always exuded good vibes, right from the moment I first handed in a resume, to the first day on the job, and now as a returning customer.

Originally located in downtown Ottawa, and once serving the local government and office workers with delicious take-out, catering or dine-in, they have relocated to a little spot with big personality at the base of an office building at 1545 Carling Ave. Being off the beaten path means less foot traffic, which means the word needs to get out about this hip, unique, groovy and fun restaurant. 

We decided to make a trip to this old haunt of mine earlier this week. There is funky local art on the wall of iconic musicians such as Hendrix and Tupac. The seating is creatively crafted in a colorful, diner-style, winding way. The lighting was atmospheric, the music carefree and eclectic—perfectly matched with our millennial appreciation for classic hip hop and rock. The patio also looked incredibly inviting for the final days of warmth, though we still opted for indoor seating to get the full experience.

Of course, the main reason for our adventure was the food. Having worked at Grounded before, I knew that the dynamic scratch-kitchen was going to put immense creativity into every bite, and that has not changed one bit. My partner and co-writer of the blog Ameya and I opted for the chicken parmesan sliders and the mushroom melt burger special. 

![Grounded's sliders were a hit off the hop, with the breaded and crispy chicken hitting all the right notes](/uploads/img_6332.jpeg "Grounded Kitchen, Coffee & Bar chicken parmesan sliders")

In the past, when I have ordered chicken parmesan, there has always been something that I didn’t like, such as too much breading, or too much tomato flooding the sauce. I do not know how Grounded succeeded, but these chicken parmesan sliders had a Goldilocks level of perfection with the ratio and flavors of the tomato sauce, havarti, parmesan, basil oil and panko breaded chicken. While I would recommend including a side with your order if you’re excessively hungry, the flavour of these top-of-the-line chicken parm sliders will have you coming back for more. 

The mushroom melt elicited the same level of satisfaction, if not more. Described from their menu as a “brisket-chuck patty, Heartee mushrooms, havarti, caramelized onions, and dijonaise on an artisan bun with your choice of side.” It was a melt-in-your-mouth experience that melted my heart. Even the French fries were seasoned to excite the palate.

Grounded offers catering, take-out, event space, dine-in, and even has a small freezer of prepared food items. Always trying something new and daring, this is a great place that will keep you interested in what is coming next. Stay tuned and get hungry.

Grounded Kitchen, Coffee & Bar

We were told to take a healthy appetite to Yummy Touch Kitchen, a Middle Eastern restaurant that opened around a year ago in southeast Ottawa.

“This place is definitely tucked away in an out of the way strip mall in the east end and is well worth the trip,” Eat the Strip reader John wrote in an email in September. “Everything is prepared fresh from scratch in house. I suggest you try it with a group of friends.”

Delicious eats? In a strip mall? This sounded like a slam dunk. So, we wrote to John to thank him, and decided to go check out the newish restaurant with our friend Carina last Thursday. 

The restaurant is located next to a Tim Hortons with ample parking around. We arrived around an hour and a half before closing and were greeted by a warm couple that gave us the lay of the land. Husband and wife duo Sohayb and Ghareed, originally from Jordan and Palestine respectively, told us their lamb rice and shawarma platters are amongst the most popular dishes on the menu. The rice lamb turned out to be the English translation for mandi, a dish for which I confessed my love during a previous Eat the Strip outing.  

We chose a table towards the back of the restaurant, near a beautiful mural of an oasis. The walls were painted with kiln ovens, and the ceiling is adorned with hanging plants. There is also a highchair for those with children and a few board games for families to enjoy while waiting for their meals. This added touch made yet more sense when Ghareed told us they plan to convert the restaurant into a café in the evenings. 

![Mandi, a popular dish that originated from the southern part of the Arabian peninsula, is one of the star dishes at Yummy Touch Kitchen](/uploads/img_6298.jpeg "Yummy Touch Kitchen lamb rice")

She added that her mother has been catering for over a decade. When the family acquired the commercial space, they didn’t realize there was a seating area. That’s when they pivoted to the idea of a restaurant. While the first weeks were a bit slow, business has since picked up, and the response from the community has been “big,” said Ghareed. This, even though they only started advertising the restaurant around four months ago.

We ordered the—you guessed it—lamb rice and a mixed shawarma platter with all the fixings. The fall-off-the-bone lamb was served on a bed of flavourful rice. Not too oily, it was topped with parsley, raisins and nuts. The lamb was juicy and cooked to perfection. Over on the shawarma platter, the hummus was delicious. It was creamy, and we couldn’t get enough of it. Co-writer of the blog and my partner Danielle put it perfectly that the potatoes served with the shawarma platter “brought breakfast to dinner.”

We certainly recommend the lamb rice, or as it’s known in the Middle East, mandi. However, before we could pay and head out, Sohayb and Ghareed insisted we try some of their all-new waffles. We tried the lotus and pistachio ones. They were heavenly. Warm, gooey caramel filling oozed out of each spoonful. If you have a sweet tooth, we suggest you leave space for this delicious desert.

![We were very happy that the owners suggested we try their waffles because this might have among the best we have ever tasted](/uploads/img_6301.jpeg "Yummy Touch Kitchen lotus waffles")

We paid just over $50 for our meal, thanked our hosts, and set out clutching our full, happy bellies, dreaming of our next visit to Yummy.

Yummy Touch Kitchen

Our group of five arrived around dinnertime at Saffron Kabab Restaurant’s Bank Street location, just as the smell of marinated meats being grilled began to waft from the kitchen.

For this outing the Eat the Strip team was joined by three friends, including Jennifer Heagle, one of the original founders of Red Apron, a local food store that sells prepared meals with an emphasis on locally sourced ingredients. (Fun fact: Yours truly worked as a dishwasher there many, many years ago as a university student.)

Opened in 2019, Saffron Kabab Restaurant is a family-run restaurant with a second location on Carling Avenue. Saber, its affable owner, came by to check on everyone over the course of our meal and handed us lots of candies to take home afterwards. He told us how everything right down to the cutlery being used at the restaurant was selected with quality and purpose in mind. Sure enough, the spoons we were using, he pointed out, were engraved with an image of Cyrus the Great, the founder of Persian empire. Paintings depicting other Persian icons adorn the wooden walls, as tables begin to fill up with chattering friends and families.

Our meal begins with a serving of a complimentary fruit platter. As we were quite peckish this was quite welcome, and a nice way to whet our appetite. We ordered an assortment of classic Persian dishes, including a platter of chicken and beef kebabs, and fesenjoon, an iconic dish that I seek almost every time we eat Persian food.

![The Saffron mix platter we ordered came with skewered beef and chicken kebabs, and lentil soup](/uploads/img_6138.jpg "Saffron Kabab Restaurant Saffron mix platter")

The platter came with lentil soup, which is not dissimilar to an Indian daal, albeit not spicy. This holds true in fact for a lot of Persian and Afghan cooking, where many of the dishes resemble North Indian cuisine but are served using much milder spices. I enjoy this from time to time, being able to appreciate the complex flavours of milder ingredients that can sometimes get eclipsed by the heat of chillies and peppers used in South Asian cooking. Along with our meal, we ordered some hummus and kashk bademjan. The latter is made from deep fried mashed eggplants, sauteed onions, garlic, and mint. It had the consistency of pesto. It was creamy, nutty, and paired well with some fresh bread. 

Our meat platter was served with a generous portion of saffron-infused rice. While the other kebabs were tasty, my go-to platter item were the chicken drumsticks. I had seen Saber grilling them in the back and knew right away to try them when the platter arrived. You could tell they had been marinated for a long time, perhaps in a yogurt-based marinade. It imparted a smoky, tandoor flavour to the rice. I found myself dipping it in hummus and garlic sauce and going back for several rounds. 

You could tell the focus at the restaurant is on authenticity.

“At Saffron, we take pride in providing a traditional Persian cuisine by using a blend of local ingredients and imported spices only grown in our homeland, bringing together a symphony of vibrant and authentic flavours in all our dishes,” reads the restaurant’s website.

We decided to split the bill in half. Our total, with a tip, came to $67. While it may be a tad steep compared to our usual strip mall gems, we had plenty of leftovers and some very happy bellies to show for it.

Saffron Kabab Restaurant

When Ahmed Abdulkadir is not busy brokering peace deals in conflict zones, he’s busy making some of the best Somali flatbread in town at his family-run restaurant.

We made our way to his Safia Restaurant on a Wednesday evening with our new neighbours, a wonderful couple that revealed Ahmed happened to cater their wedding a few years ago. They assured us the food was going to be excellent. (Not that we felt otherwise—the restaurant has a near perfect rating on Google, and two readers wrote to us recently with high praise for the Somali restaurant.)

![Suqaar is a popular Somali dish that conists of chicken, lamb or beef sautéed with onions, garlic, coriander, tomatoes and an assortment of other spices](/uploads/img_6091.jpeg "Safia Restaurant chicken suqaar")

Paintings of village life in East Africa adorn the restaurant’s walls. There are a few tables to your left as you enter and a traditional floor seating area with cushions at the back. Our friends asked us if we’d like to eat in the back. We happily obliged. While the dinner crowd started trickling out around 7:30 p.m., Ahmed and his two servers stayed busy catering to a constant stream of customers flowing in to order wraps, sambuusas and other classic Somali dishes for takeout. Feeling guilty that we had seemingly ordered the last of the sambuusas, I made sure to cherish every bite. 

Now, you’re probably wondering what I was on about with the conflict zones comment at the top of this piece. After a little prodding, Ahmed, who was quite humble about his past, acknowledged that he was an activist in Alberta prior to moving to Ontario. When I later googled him, I learned that he was a prominent leader of the Somali community in Edmonton. In 2018, he played a key role in the negotiations between the Ethiopian government and the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF), a separatist rebel group. He flew back to his home country for the first time since fleeing as a refugee in the early 1990s and bore witness to a historic peace agreement. 

He then followed his sons to Ottawa, where they were attending Carleton University at the time. Around five years ago he decided to take the plunge and oversee the expansion of his sister’s west end Somali restaurant that shares the same name. With his 25 years of experience in the food business, it was not too much of an adjustment. The goal was simple—make authentic food that was relatable to people from all walks of life. So, five years ago, the family gave us a second Safia restaurant on St. Laurent Boulevard. The menu of the two locations are largely the same, with a few more offerings at the east end location, Ahmed told me.

“We did not want to make it fancy,” he said. “It’s food that everyone can relate to.”

As Somalia is a coastal nation, its food is a fusion of Indian, Arab and Italian flavours, Ahmed added. That’s why people from so many backgrounds can relate to the it. This was certainly true of our meal. We ordered the chicken suqaar platter, a beef suqaar with chapati, and our lovely neighbours ordered us four samosas to take home.

Ahmed was correct. The chicken suqaar resembled chunks of tandoori chicken, served on a bed rice with pickled onions and salad. Our first bites led to long oohs and ahhs. The boneless chunks of chicken of were spicy, tangy and had a nice aftertaste of cumin. But to me the real showstopper was the rice. Made by soaking the rice in a broth, it was rich, flavourful and complemented the chicken perfectly. My beef suqaar was served with a flaky chapati—a type of flatbread closely related to paratha of the Indian subcontinent. The chunks of meat were tender and salty. While very tasty, I couldn’t help constantly digging into the plate containing the chicken suqaar. 

On our way home, I kept wishing I had had exposure to Somali food earlier in my life. We’re lucky to have purveyors of this incredible, complex and delicious cuisine in Ottawa. It’s quickly become one of my favourite cuisines. I’m sure it will become yours too.

Safia Restaurant

When we got wind of the fact that a restaurant in Ottawa’s south end may have received the blessings of the Thai embassy as authentic Thai cooking, we knew we had to visit.

We made it to Thai Lanna, located in a strip mall near Bank Street and Hunt Club Road, last week. We went with our friends Adele and Taylor and their adorable two-year-old. We walked in at dinnertime, a constant stream of diners making their way in and out of the small restaurant. Paintings adorned the yellow walls as a gregarious server greeted us with a pitcher of cold water. We waved goodbye to a group of women on their way out, excited to take home their leftovers. When I asked them how their food was, one of them said “excellent” while grinning from ear-to-ear.

This got us very excited for our food. We ordered an assortment of dishes with an agreement to share. Our friends ordered a vegetarian pad thai and red curry. We ordered the basil chili chicken prepared in its “street food version” and the legendary pad kee maw, also known as drunken noodles. We asked for our food to be medium spicy.

Our chattering table went silent and wide-eyed as our food arrived. I took a bite of the pad kee maw and immediately crooned with delight. My first bite contained those green chillies ubiquitous in Thai cooking. This was an instant sign that the food was legitimate. Even milder dishes contained a modicum of spice that’s needed to really make Thai flavours come alive. Crispy vegetables, fresh basil and tender eggplant made this dish an instant icon for me in Ottawa-Gatineau’s Thai food landscape. 

![Pad kee maw consists of a stir-fry noodle served with a choice of meat, egg and vegetables cooked in a dark soya sauce, chilli and basil leaves](/uploads/img_6020.jpeg "Thai Lanna pad kee maw")

Eat the Strip co-writer and my partner Danielle’s basil chili chicken was also excellent. Rice was included with all the dishes, and hers paired excellently with the minced chicken dish. The street food version of the dish came with lots of garlic, Thai chillies, sweet basil and a crispy friend egg to boot. Yum.

Our friend’s red curry also receives an honourable mention. The rich coconut sauce, crispy vegetables and tofu were served with a small pile of rice, which looked like a small mountain surrounded by a lake of red, creamy lava. The dish had a nice gingery aftertaste and the rich coconut flavour made each bite incredibly satisfying.

![Our friend Taylor's tofu red curry was served with eggplant, chayote squash, zucchini, green and red peppers, cooked in a curry sauce](/uploads/img_6019.jpeg "Thai Lanna red curry")

With each dish costing between $20 and $25, we were hoping for some leftovers. This was exactly what happened. While packing up our food I asked our server, originally from northern Thailand, if the rumors we heard about the restaurant receiving a thumbs up on the authenticity front from the Thai embassy were true. While we didn’t see a certificate, nor did we corroborate with the embassy before publishing this piece, she nodded to confirm that the rumors were indeed true.

We, too, left clutching our takeout bags, grinning ear-to-ear.

Thai Lanna

UPDATE: Please note that as of November 2025 this restaurant has moved to a new location. The address has been updated, but note that elements of the article may, as such, be out of date.

\*﻿\**

For months we’ve had our vegan friends tell us about a hidden gem tucked away in the basement of a commercial building on Bronson Avenue.

As we tend to focus on strip malls in far-flung suburbs, Wei's Noodle House managed to slip under our radar for months. But it’s always been intriguing to us. We’ve intended to go since we started hearing about their excellent chili garlic tofu, delicious noodles, steaming stir-fries and expansive vegan options.

We’re happy to say we finally made our way on Thursday to the predominantly takeout joint located in the basement of the RE/MAX building. Yes, Wei’s is the very definition of a hidden gem. When you walk through the building doors, the first thing you’re greeted by is the scent of frying shallots and garlic, a scent synonymous—to me in any case—with my grandmother’s cooking. Downstairs there’s a little dining area with green walls and the kitchen is located behind a literal hole in the wall. This is exactly the kind of spot that Eat the Strip loves to chronicle.

Wei’s staffer took a pause form dealing with the constant stream of delivery drivers picking up their orders by asking us about our takeout order. She located our chili garlic tofu and tonkotsu ramen, for which we paid a total of around $35. 

Wei’s opened in 2013 at their original location in Chinatown. They’ve been in the RE/MAX building since the Covid pandemic. In an online post on Facebook, the husband-and-wife duo that owns the restaurant said they have plans to eventually buy their own property to find a permanent home for their restaurant. 

![The tonkotsu ramen was served with chashu, shiitake mushrooms, soya sauce, a braised egg and green onions](/uploads/img_5914.jpg "Wei's Noodle House tonkotsu ramen")

We got back home and immediately tucked into our ramen. The pork belly was full of flavour and had soaked up the delicious broth. The mushrooms were a great addition and we appreciated that the restaurant provided the broth in a separate container to keep everything fresh. The chili garlic tofu was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. It was served with noodles, julienned vegetables and, you guessed it, lots of garlic. While we enjoyed the tofu, we feasted on the ramen. It was bursting with flavour and matched a lot of the good ramen we have enjoyed in the city.

We’re excited to go back to try their pad thai and Singapore noodles.

Wei's Noodle House

I have been wanting to feature Baa Desi Dine ever since my partner brought home a take-out anda shami burger and beef kebab wrap. 

Some folks may have heard us on Robyn Bresnahan’s This is Ottawa podcast to discuss the next quintessential Ottawa dish. While we are happy that Ottawa has been officially declared the Shawarma Capital of Canada, we believe that kebabs have officially entered the chat. 

My first shami kebab was during a visit to New Delhi, India. I had never seen a round kebab, almost the shape of a slider, but it was the texture that was immediately memorable. This texture, I later came to know, was created by combining minced lamb and yellow lentils, cooked together with ginger, garlic, onion, mint, chilies and other classic subcontinental spices, until they were soft enough to be blended. These were then made into their signature cylindrical shape, dipped in egg and fried. I just knew I had to find an equivalent in Canada.  

Baa Desi Dine granted me this wish. I have since had the anda shami burger too many times to count. With the egg on top, it is a deliciously filling combination of east meets west. The added mayo, ketchup and coleslaw gives it a nice crunch and makes it feel like I’m eating a classic burger with a desi twist—all for under $10.  

![The anda shami burger is a famous street food item in Pakistan, with the patty consisting of the iconic shami kebab](/uploads/img_5815.jpeg "Baa Desi Dine anda shami burger")

Another item on the menu that I have come to love is haleem, a dish commonly eaten before or after a long day of Ramadan fasting due to its heartiness. Baa Desi Dine serves an excellent variety, so we no longer have to go through the arduous process of cooking it, which can sometimes require hours of preparation. At Baa Desi Dine, the haleem is topped with fresh ginger and a healthy helping of fried onions for some extra pop. This dish is a little spicy, so beware if you have a hard time with spice. 

Lastly, the beef kebab wrap is a great way of filling up without breaking the bank. A little kick, mellowed by the semi-sweet sauce and naan wrap, coupled by the succulence of the meat, is just a well-rounded snack or meal, depending on your hunger level. 

Ali opened this family-run restaurant in October 2023 with his wife and children and hopes to expand as the business flourishes. Their focus is on homemade food and that’s why people love it.  He recommended we try to the halwa puri next time we visit, along with many other signature dishes from his hometown of Lahore, Pakistani, that are less commonly found in Ottawa. 

If you are planning to go during peak weekend hours, be sure to make a reservation as it was packed when we tried to go when Saturday afternoon. All-in-all, Baa Desi Dine a fantastic local South Asian restaurant that we love supporting.

Baa Desi Dine

While getting older surely means fewer nights out, the desire to get a nice greasy spoon  breakfast the morning after a night out hasn’t diminished.

Such was last Saturday morning. I woke up craving hash browns, eggs and bacon. I went through our database of unreviewed restaurants and was reminded of a breakfast spot that had an average rating of 4.9 out of five on Google. A few readers wrote to us in the spring that we should check out Cindy’s Restaurant, located in an industrial park not too far from the airport.

I called the restaurant and asked them if it would be OK if I arrived around 20 minutes before closing. They said it wouldn’t be an issue, so I hopped into my car and drove off, excited to go back to our roots as a blog that scouts out restaurants hidden deep in industrial parks and strip malls. 

As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed it had the vibe of a classic industrial mall hidden gem. But this was not your classic greasy spoon. The clean-interior and laid-back atmosphere had a family-friendly neighbourhood joint vibe. Photos of small towns in the Ottawa Valley adorn the wall, along with a sign of the restaurant’s motto: “Family, Friends, Food.” I begin to sit down at a small table as a solo diner however George, cook and cousin of restaurant owner Cindy, asks me to take a large one to be more comfortable.

I ordered a breakfast hash and a pot of tea. This was perhaps the quickest I’ve had my food prepared at a restaurant. My meal was ready in just over five minutes. George later told me he’s been cooking at the restaurant for over 30 years and has everything prepared well in advance. 

![The breakfast hash came with a choice of two eggs, toast and homefries topped with bacon, sausage, green peppers, onions and cheese](/uploads/img_5775.jpeg "Cindy's Restaurant breakfast hash")

I combine my crunchy bell peppers, sunny-side eggs, onions, cheese and bacon into a gooey mix that I scoop up with my warm and buttered toast. It was perfectly salty. The sausages and bacon cooked perfectly, with the latter nice and crispy.  As I tucked in, Cindy told me to take my time to finish, even though the clock had struck noon—their closing time on Saturdays. 

Cindy inherited the 35-year-old restaurant from her aunt. She first worked for the family business for 15 years and then took it over around 13 years ago. “Most of our customers that are customers that have been coming forever,” she said. “I feel like this is more my family than my own family.”

She emphasizes her commitment to keeping the food simple and using fresh ingredients. While the pandemic was challenging, the flow of customers has returned to pre-pandemic levels, she told me, with lots of new faces popping up on Saturday mornings. 

After paying around $20 for my meal—and in staying true to their motto—Cindy and George handed me some fresh peaches that one of their customers had recently returned with from Niagara.  

I left feeling like I was already part of the family.

Cindy's Restaurant

It was around Thanksgiving last year that Eat the Strip reader Diodora suggested we head to Orleans to check out a Mexican takeout joint specializing in tortillas and salsas. 

Happy to see new Latin American food options springing up across the city, we made a note to check out Tortilla Maker. We finally got to visit the spot almost a year later, on a Sunday following scattered showers. I was greeted by two employees working behind the counter. The walls were painted bright yellow and green. Other customers chatted with the employees in Spanish—a good sign that indicated to me the food was probably going to be quite authentic.

Inside the glass counter were lots of containers of fresh salsas, guacamole and tamales. On the other side of the L-shaped counter is a menu with hot food available for takeout. I order chicken and guava tamales and chicken and beef tacos. I scan the bags of in-house tortilla chips, tempted to buy a few to take home along with the mouthwatering sauces. My order is ready within 10 minutes.

Miguel Angel Jiménez Reyes opened the family-operated business around a year ago. While the family wasn’t there the day I visited, their website said the homemade salsas are inspired by their “great-grandmother Carlota Silvestre Cornejo’s own original recipes, passed down for generations.”

“Tortilla Maker was also born of the desire to preserve the ancient method of making nixtamal tortillas, preserve their unique flavour and aroma, expand their popularity and promote maize consumption in Canada,” it said. From what I’ve gathered, nixtamal is a process of cooking corn in an alkaline solution that makes it tastier and more nutritious.

The warm food was smelling so good, I decided to sample some of the dishes in the car. 

I bit into the tacos first. The tortillas were like two little clouds. Soft and spongy, they soaked up the juices of the tender meat. The fresh cabbage and vegetable medley provided a nice crunch. No salsa was needed as all the ingredients were incredibly fresh and flavourful. I could have eaten the tortillas on their own.

![Several people have left reviews for the takeout joint praising their authentic tortillas](/uploads/img_5735.jpeg "Tortilla Maker chicken taco")

The tamales are some of the best you can currently find in Ottawa. The chicken tinga had a gooey centre with a very satisfying salsa verde. The guava tamal was probably the most unique tamal I’ve ever had. It featured a red guava paste that was sweet and complemented the cheese well. Not usually one to enjoy a sweet and savoury combo, I found it worked rather well in this dish.

![The guava tamal was made with nixtamal corn masa (dough), guava paste, cheese, baking powder, sugar and margarine](/uploads/img_5739.jpeg "Tortilla Maker guava tamal")

I paid a total of around $20 for the tacos and tamales. The food was excellent—not too heavy—and my wallet didn’t take too much of a hit.  All in all, an excellent Sunday outing.

The Tortilla Maker

Soleil des Iles is a no-nonsense Haitian restaurant tucked away in a gem of a strip mall in Vanier.

In operation for over two decades, the restaurant leaves its front door open in the summer, as a predominantly Haitian clientele queues up to order takeout meals. 

Don’t let the minimalist décor fool you; the focus here is on the food, which does not disappoint. 

I arrive at the restaurant on a sultry Sunday afternoon as three people queue ahead of me. When it’s my turn, I order a small griot with sos pwa and ask to dine in. Two ceiling fans are going at top speed to keep the air moving. A television hangs on the bright orange walls. Behind the counter, two women are rotating between taking orders and relaying them to the staff in the back. I sit down at one of three large dining tables while listening to customers chat with the ladies in Creole and French. Griot turns out to be a popular order.

My food is ready in around 15 minutes. For the very reasonable sum of $13, my griot combo came with a large serving of rice, pikliz, plantain, sos pwa and a sauce made from the pork stock leftover after cooking the griot.

![Griot—made with pork shoulder marinated in citrus, braised and then fried—is considered by some to be Haiti's national dish and is best had with rice, pikliz and sos pwa](/uploads/img_5672.jpeg "Soleil des Iles griot")

My first bite is a solid chunk of griot. It’s crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Perfectly cooked, I love the abundance of garlic and lime that give the dish its signature flavour. It’s served with the quintessentially Haitian pikliz salad, which has a nice heat to it thanks to the scotch bonnet pepper used in Haitian cooking. My rice is soon swimming in a pool of haricot beans sauce enriched with the griot stock. It is rich, incredibly filling and delightfully satisfying. The plantain forms the cherry on the top.

I express my gratitude to the staff behind the counter and head to my car, my belly full and my heart happy, sure to be back for me another day.

Soleil des Iles

Rarely does one forget their first ever raclette.

Originating from the canton of Valais in cheese-rich Switzerland, raclette refers to scraping off melted cheese and eating it with an assortment of meats and vegetables. The name comes from the type of cheese used in the ritual, which is typically served sliced. A modern way of serving raclette involves an electric table-top grill with little pans, known in French as coupelles, in which slices of raclette cheese are melted.

![Raclette is like the European version of those familiar with East Asian barbecues where you cook at your own table, except with a lot more cheese involved](/uploads/img_5639.jpeg "Meule et Caquelon La raclette Campagnarde")

Now, why am I telling you all of this? Well, in earlier in the year we received an email from Eat the Strip reader Charles who said we needed to stop what we were doing and immediately go to a restaurant specializing in raclette in Gatineau. “You have to try Meule et Caquelon.” Charles wrote in April. “Father and son run the business for over a decade or two.”

“Amazing Swiss/alpine food,” Charles added.

The last time I had raclette was during a 2018 sojourn in the north of France. Believe it or not, I remember the cheese-induced fever dreams quite fondly—around a dozen of us crowded our friend’s long dinner table, grilling all manner of cheese, meats and vegetables. Between bites of melted cheese and charcuterie we would take swigs of cold, Belgian beer and dab our foreheads with napkins to wipe off the meat sweats.

It's one of the enduring memories from my stay there.

On the Tuesday evening we went to Meule et Caquelon, we were greeted by Robert Ataman, the original owner of the business now run by his son. He greets us wearing a traditional Swiss outfit, a big smile under his bushy moustache. He seats us and our server comes by to tell us about the special of the day. We decide to order the La raclette Campagnarde, which came with beef, chicken, ham, Swiss air-dried beef and sausages. We appreciated the size of the restaurant while waiting for our food—it can accommodate over 100 people—and the effort that must have gone into replicating a traditional alpine dining experience. For example, on display are crests of traditional family clans, paintings of Swiss scenery and even a 100-year-old bell that hangs near the restaurant’s entrance.

![Once grilled, the meat and vegetables are layered with cheese in the little pans and grilled until crispy](/uploads/img_5646.jpeg "Meule et Caquelon raclette")

It turns out, however, that the Ataman clan is not at all from Switzerland. They’re a proudly Quebecois family from Abiti that just loved cooking fondue and raclette at home. In the 1990s they opened the original Meule et Caquelon restaurant in Rouyn-Noranda, before moving to Gatineau around 30 years ago. The costumes, the unique designand the cauldrons of melted cheese is all part of the draw for their clientele which comes from as far as Toronto to dine at the restaurant.

Our food arrives. Word to the wise here: try to work up an appetite if you’re ordering the raclette. We take moment to appreciate the sheer quantity of portions. Fortunately, we were appropriately hungry and immediately started to grill up the meats, broccoli, mushrooms and zucchini. The cheese and merguez sausages were an immediate hit. We followed the steps outlined at the dining table of grilling our meats and vegetables, transferring them to the little pans underneath and layering them with the raclette cheese. Our first bites resulted in closed eyes and silent nods—a good sign. The sharp cheese melted over the meats and vegetables, topped with béchamel sauce, resulted in a delightful bite that immediately took me back to that first raclette.

We continued to grill our food while a Sinatra-esque cover of a Blink 182 song played over the speakers. Our server came by to ask if everything was alright. By the time we were already approaching the signature raclette-induced food coma. Not wanting to doze off at the now-closing restaurant, we nodded in appreciation and asked for the cheque. The $80-meal, including tip, was admittedly quite steep when compared to other strip mall gems we’ve featured on this site. 

But where else in the city would you find yourself eating a damn good raclette and forgetting you’re not in an alpine town in Switzerland? It’s an experience that we’re lucky to have in the region.

Meule et Caquelon

UPDATE: Please note that as of February 2025 this restaurant is under new ownership.

A tip from friends who were in the west end the other day caught us off guard.

We thought we had a pretty good pulse of Mexican restaurants tucked away in strip malls in Ottawa and Gatineau. Clearly there was a slip up in our intel about Que pasa? Tacos, which opened around two months ago in a strip mall on Carling Avenue near the new Canadian Tire.

“We just ate here and it was great! And the owner was so welcoming!” Jessica, our friend, wrote to us after eating at the taco spot earlier this month. “They just opened a month ago and before she was just cooking from home.” 

Huge fans of Mexican food that we are, we knew we had to go as soon as possible. After completing some chores in the area, we made a beeline to the restaurant on Saturday for a late lunch.

We were greeted by owners Donaldo and Diana with their signature Latin American warmth. We took a seat by the cash till and looked over the relatively small menu. The philosophy here is to do a few things and do them well. In the taco department we ordered two al pastors, a lengua and a quesabirria. We also ordered a horchata to help wash down the food.

![All tacos are priced at $6 per serving at Que pasa? Tacos](/uploads/img_5532.jpeg "Que pasa? Tacos al pastor")

The Mexican-Colombian couple’s tryst with the restaurant business has humble beginnings. Noticing a dearth of authentic Mexican food in the region, they would cook meals for their Latin American friends, sometimes preparing up to six kilograms of food, for folks as far afield as Cornwall. In May, they decided to take the plunge and open a brick-and-mortar restaurant to bring their food to the city at large. Boy, oh, boy how lucky we are that they did. 

The tacos arrived in colourful plates that matched the décor of the small but, cozy, restaurant. The melt-in-your-mouth meat in the quesabirria and lengua elicited immediate “ooh and ahs” from us both. The al pastor came with double layered tortillas to help scoop up the tender bits of pork which we topped with a generous amount of onions, cilantro and lime. The quesabirria came with a birria broth which we slurped up like a soup after our meal. 

![For six tacos and a giant horchata our total came to around $45, which might seem steep but is well worth the price when you consider the incredible quality of food at Que pasa? Tacos](/uploads/img_5534.jpeg "Que pasa? Tacos quesabirria")

Craving more, we ordered another round of the pastor and quesabirria. 

We got chatting with the couple while waiting for our food. People in the industry had warned them business would be slow the first few weeks. But they were in for a surprise. The restaurant was packed on the first weekend following opening. Dozens of people filed into the little restaurant standing room only style, with those at the front helping the couple by passing food along to folks at the back. 

On another occasion a few Mexican clients told the couple they wanted to eat their tacos while they were still warm. They wanted to dine in. At that point the couple was operating the restaurant as a takeout-only spot. Not wanting to disappoint, Diana played host while Donaldo ran over to the Canadian Tire and bought a few tables and chairs on the spot so their customers could eat at the restaurant. Those tables are still there today.

While they originally pulled an all-Latin American crowd, today the restaurant is buzzing with people of all backgrounds, reflecting Ottawa’s multicultural makeup. They close late so revellers can come enjoy their food like its done back home. Who need a night czar when you have people like Donaldo and Diana throwing a fiesta we all can get behind? 

Sign me up for late-night tacos.

Que pasa? Tacos

In late June we received an email from one of our readers recommending we make a trip to Stittsville to try a new sushi place that was getting people in the area talking.

“We had sushi here last night and it was amazing,” wrote Mary Ann. “Maybe the best I've ever had.”

I was all ears. I checked out Maki Sushi + Poke’s website and noticed there are two locations, one in Kingston and another in Ottawa. Assuming this meant it was a franchise, I wrote back to Mary Ann and said that we’re prioritizing writing about non-franchises for the time being. I received a prompt response telling me the second location is owned by the same family. “As it happens, I actually had another absolutely delicious meal at Maki Sushi last night and I inquired if they were a franchise,” Mary Anne wrote in a follow up email. “They own both and they are not a franchise.”

As we were in the area on Monday evening, we decided to head over to restaurant for some takeout sushi.

We got to the restaurant just in time for closing and were greeted by David, the son of the couple that started the Kingston location six years ago. Along with his sister, he helps his parents run the joint, which opened in the Stittsville just last November. 

“It’s been nice to have people from the neighbourhood come by,” said David. “We like to keep the menu pretty small; we like to keep the quality rather than diversifying.” 

I’m a big fan of smaller menus, so this seemed promising. I took David’s recommendation and ordered the dynamite and ocean rainbow maki specials, which came to a total of around $30, eight pieces apiece.  

Once settled in at home, we dug into the sushi, devouring it while taking in an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s travel show. We liked the mango and teriyaki sauce that gave the ocean rainbow maki rolls a zesty flavour. David had mentioned the family splurges on getting fresh ingredients from Farm Boy and it showed. 

![A maki roll is a traditional sushi roll that often consists of fish, vegetables and rice rolled up in seaweed](/uploads/img_5503.jpeg "Maki Sushi + Poke ocean rainbow")

While we enjoyed the ocean rainbow, the dynamite maki special was the real showstopper. The very first bite ended in silent nods while pointing to our plates in unison. A dollop of cream cheese and spicy mayo made for a saucy centre that provided an excellent contrast to the crunchy shrimp. This was perfection in a plate and we immediately regretted not ordering a second serving. 

![The dyanmite maki roll consisted of fried shrimp, cream cheese, avocado, crab, teriyaki and spicy mayo](/uploads/img_5502.jpeg "Maki Sushi + Poke dynamite")

The family that runs Maki Sushi + Poke immigrated from Korea around 15 years ago. While they have taken inspiration from both Korean and Japanese cuisine, their food is a remarkable fusion that is among the very best of North American-style sushi you can find in the city. While it may not be what sushi traditionalists are seeking, I’ve never been one to think that relentless pursuit of authenticity should be the sole factor in sniffing out a good restaurant.

And Maki Sushi + Poke is not a good restaurant. It is an incredible one.

Maki Sushi + Poke

It was in the spring of 2023, not too long after we launched Eat the Strip, that one of our readers wrote to us to check out Saigon Bistro.

Faye’s pithy email got straight to the point. It encouraged us to go check out the Vietnamese restaurant in Orleans. I just happened to be in the vicinity for a doctor’s appointment the other day, so after wrapping up I invited my partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle to join me at a nondescript strip mall on St. Joseph Boulevard in the heart of the Orleans.

There were two things on my mind as I made my way into the cozy restaurant. First, I had a feeling the food would be special as that stretch of St. Joseph has some incredible strip mall gems; corresponding exactly to the kind of place this blog aspires to chronicle. Second, I was quite curious to see how Saigon Bistro approaches traditional Vietnamese food while being halal.

Yes, you heard that right. According to the owners, Saigon Bistro is the first halal-certified Vietnamese restaurant in the region. It was opened in 2022 by a Lebanese man and his Vietnamese wife who met in Ottawa 30 years ago and decided to bring their multicultural home cooking to residents through their restaurant. Online, several clients applaud the restaurant’s authentic approach to Vietnamese cooking while also adhering to halal principles. 

We’re greeted by Ali’s wife, who was incredibly welcoming, but preferred not to be named for this article. There are around seven or eight tables and we take a seat by the window. We order a well-cooked beef pho and crispy noodles with chicken, to share. Ali, who works in the back with his son and another employee, came by with the food and to chat.

“Customer feedback has been amazing,” he said when I asked about the community response the restaurant has received since opening. The couple worked with an aunt who owns a Vietnamese restaurant downtown to come up with authentic recipes, all while respecting halal guidelines. “It’s an endeavour of love,” Ali’s wife chimes in, adding that the experience has been incredibly rewarding.

Well, how was the food you ask? In one word: delicious. The pho broth was perfect, the kind that makes you sip straight from the bowl so you don’t miss a morsel at the end; the meat cooked to the desired level. The cilantro had a lovely kick and a hint of fennel brought the dish home. Danielle’s noodles were delectably crunchy with a hint of spice. The vegetables were fresh and there was a generous portion of chicken.

![Item P5 on the menu, the well-done beef pho cost $16 for a regular size portion and $18 for a large](/uploads/img_5425.jpeg "Saigon Bistro well-done beef")

It was as authentic as any Vietnamese restaurant you frequent in Ottawa.

Both dishes were good, but I would go back for that pho in a heartbeat. And when I asked Ali about the secret behind the flavour, he explained the process included a lot of trial and error. They spend anywhere between eight to 12 hours a day cooking, he said, adding they have finally landed on a beef-based broth for their pho that satisfies their expectations. All this work is extra, Ali mentions, as his day job is with the federal government. This means he and his wife can only be open for dinner on weekdays, between 3 p.m. and 9 p.m. 

![Ali's wife mentioned that the crispy noodle mix are a Saigon speciality but that their restaurant has a unique twist on the classic dish](/uploads/img_3721.jpeg "Saigon Bistro crispy noodle mix")

We paid our bill, which came to around $45 before tip. Though other strip mall restaurants might offer cheaper fare, the care, passion and love with which Ali and his wife prepare Vietnamese food is well worth the few extra bucks. We’ll certainly go back for more.

Saigon Bistro

Imagine walking into a small convenience store and seeing a lineup snaking around the aisles, leading up to a deli counter at the back.

If your first instinct would be to join the line to see what magic lies at the end, that’s exactly what I did the first time I went to Sherwood Market & Deli. That’s how I discovered their fabled barbecue chicken, bacon and avocado sandwich. Since then, my partner and co-writer of Eat the Strip Danielle and I have visited several times, never straying from that very order.

The sandwich is legendary. A quick glance at Sherwood’s Google reviews reveals hundreds of reviews praising the sandwich, their fresh ingredients and great service. People praised the prices too, with the signature chicken, bacon and avocado sandwich costing $8 per sandwich—a price that’s hard to beat for the sheer portion you receive.

![People praise the barbecue chicken, bacon and avocado sandwich not just its main ingredients, but also the deli's signature sauce](/uploads/img_5235.jpeg "Sherwood Market & Deli barbecue chicken, bacon and avocado sandwich")

I popped into Sherwood on a Thursday, around lunchtime. Around a dozen people were already in line, patiently placing their orders with the four employees behind the counter. Two employees were preparing the sandwiches, while the other two bagged them and stocked ingredients. On a sizeable counter sat a large container containing Sherwood’s signature slice egg bread. Deserts line the shelf near the checkout, tempting hungry customers with their reasonably priced Nanaimo bars, costing $2.69 each.

Outside is a parking lot that, naturally, fills up around lunchtime. Several construction employees grab their sandwiches and eat at a picnic table on the grass at the edge of the parking lot, under the cool shade of a tree. I grab my sandwiches, pay and head out, thinking about all the people who probably drive past the store’s ordinary façade without knowing there’s a deli inside serving up some of the best sandwiches in Ottawa.

Sherwood serves all their sandwiches in a bag that keeps the food fresh—one of the several little things they do that elevate their appeal. At home, I bite into my sandwich, getting a mouthful of the brioche-like bread, crispy bacon and the fresh avocado. This is probably the quintessential blue collar Ottawa sandwich. After serving sandwiches for nearly 25 years, Sherwood has perfected their craft. I understood why folks working in construction line up for their sandwiches. They’re cheap, nutritious and filling. 

And the barbecue, chicken and avocado sandwich is king.

Sherwood Market & Deli

If it’s not already abundantly clear, there’s a special place in my heart for takeout joints that operate in industrial parks, sandwiched between business that usually have less to do with food and more to do with car parts. 

Wedged between a custom furniture maker and a mechanic, Grenfell Catering has two tiny tables for dining in between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m., with the bulk of its business coming from—you guessed it—catering. It has daily specials and a set menu you can order from and gets busy during peak lunch hours when workers from across southern Nepean head over to grab some of their famous jerk chicken, soups and salads.

I heard about Grenfell from Eat the Strip reader Kate in January. As Kate had recommended, I went over during lunch hours. 

I grabbed one of two small tables after ordering the daily special: a chowmein noodle bowl with sautéed vegetables and jerk chicken. Nearby was a grab and go fridge with sauces and pasta salads made in-house. The cashier seemed to recognize several regulars streaming in, including construction employees working at sites nearby grabbing a quick to-go lunch. 

![The jerk chicken chowmein was the special of the day on a recent Wednesday](/uploads/img_5161.jpeg "Grenfell Catering jerk chicken chowmein")

The noodles came with a sweet and spicy sauce and generous chunks of their signature jerk chicken. While I’m not a fan of sweet and spicy anything, these noodles were an exception. The jerk chicken was a game-changer. It was well-spiced, spicy without being overwhelming—although a tad spicier would have been just fine by me—and at around $15 was quite reasonably priced. 

Owners Chrissy and Mark opened Grenfell in 2007. They started as chefs together in the industry, fell in love and decided to start their own venture. Despite spending most of their time on the catering side, their takeout business has grown exponentially, all thanks to old fashioned word of mouth marketing. Chrissy said they have never had to put signs out on the street for advertising the restaurant. 

I asked for a box to take home the remainder of my noodles. However, before leaving, I kept glancing at the menu and felt like the much-vaunted patty sandwich, typed in large font at the top of the menu, was calling my name. Not one to miss out on a restaurant’s signature dish, I ordered a patty sandwich for takeout. My partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle and I split the sandwich at home and quickly launched into high praise. 

![Despite containing a whole beef patty and copious amounts of jerk chicken, the sandwich was surprisingly not messy](/uploads/img_5168.jpeg "Grenfell Catering patty sandwich")

This was, as the name suggests, a sandwich which contains a Jamaican beef patty. That’s not all, it comes with a generous serving of spicy jerk chicken and crunchy coleslaw. 

It was, perhaps, one of the best sandwiches we’ve had in the city—one that’ll keep us coming back for more.

Grenfell Catering

Idirss Mediterranean is one of those few restaurants that succeed in serving you amazing food all while capturing your imagination and transporting you to a distant land while you slowly slip into a food coma.

My partner and co-writer of the blog Danielle and I went for a lazy Sunday brunch to the St. Laurent Boulevard-based Algerian restaurant after Eat the Strip reader Greg wrote to us last month urging us to try the spot. As far as we know, this is the only Algerian restaurant in Ottawa and we were eager to try the food.

The large seating area is adorned with paintings from across Algeria, prominently featuring markets and produce the country is associated with. The colourful cushions reminded me of my grandmother’s living room and the dim blue lighting and piano music made for a cozy atmosphere. Wafa opened the restaurant around five years ago, shortly before the pandemic. It managed to stay afloat, she told us, because of a dedicated group of loyal patrons who frequent it. 

We started our meal with Algerian coffee and mint tea, both consumed in large amounts in households and cafes across the North African country. This worked out splendidly for us as I, the tea drinker, find mint tea from North Africa to be incredibly relaxing and refreshing. Being a coffee drinker, Danielle loved the coffee, which turned out to be infused with orange leaves—a traditional Algerian recipe, Wafa told us, and quickly ordered a second.

For our meal, we ordered the lamb and potato tajine, mhajeb and bourak. 

The chicken bourak, quite distinct from its Balkan cousin, was served in a spring-roll type, crispy phyllo. It was fresh, served warm and the gooey, melted cheese and spices paired deliciously with the soft ground chicken. We ordered the spicy variant of mhajeb, which was served with fresh lemon to squeeze over the dish and cut the spice. The glazed sweet onions and tomato provided a subtle Mediterranean flavour and whet our appetite perfectly for what was to come.

![The potato tajine is served with a rich sauce, succulent pieces of lamb green peas and, of course, potatoes](/uploads/img_5128.jpeg "Idriss Mediterranean potato tajine")

The bubbling hot tajine was served hot in the traditional clay pot that gives its name to the dish. When asked to describe its unique flavour, Danielle said, “Picture the best lamb stew you’ve had and then times it by 10.” 

![The tajine comes with a side of hmiss, which is a traditional Algerian salad made from grilled peppers and tomatoes, chopped, mixed and seasoned with olive oil](/uploads/img_5129.jpeg "Idriss Mediterranean hmiss")

I had to agree. While the ingredients may seem simple—featuring lamb, potatoes and peas scooped up with crispy slices of baguette—the dish is rich. Its flavour comes from the unique spice blend that was passed onto Wafa from her mother. Being such a vast and diverse country, Wafa tells us the couscous and tajine she serves at her restaurant are traditional recipes from the centre and south of Algeria, where she was born and urged us to try the couscous next time.

We most certainly will oblige because this was easily one of our favourite food outings in 2024.

Idriss Mediterranean

Ravinder moved to Canada around the same time I arrived here to study at university. While we both were disappointed with the lack of authentic Punjabi fare in the Ottawa area, only one of us decided to do something about it.

During one of his visits to Ottawa around 2010, Ravinder’s friend convinced him to open a restaurant that would serve food familiar to folks from Punjab and neighbouring states in North India. After racking up around 20,000 kilometres in mileage commuting between Brampton and Ottawa to find a space and equip it, Ravinder and his wife Navneet finally opened the doors in 2013. In a nod to Brampton’s iconic Punjabi community, they decided to name their new restaurant Brampton Authentic Indian Food.

Full disclosure: this is my favourite South Asian restaurant in Ottawa. Their curries, regionally conscious cooking and excellent service transport me back to my childhood, every time, without fail. 

![Fish pakora, a delicacy from the city of Amritsar in Punjab, is coated in a spicy gram flour, spices and carom seeds and fried till crispy](/uploads/img_4411.jpeg "Brampton Authentic Indian Food fish pakora")

Today, the newly renovated space is abuzz with students from nearby Algonquin College and others driving from across the city to try their excellent food. They even opened a paratha stand recently, serving up the delightful savoury stuffed bread at almost all hours of the day. 

But success didn’t arrive overnight. 

Ravinder originally worked at a warehouse which shut down. Moreover, his nascent dreams to open a restaurant were tempered by the fact that he didn’t have much experience in the kitchen. 

“You don’t even know how to chop onions,” Navneet said to her husband when he told her of his plans to open a restaurant in Ottawa. Over time, however, Ravinder learned the tricks of the trade, hired chefs trained back home to replicate authentic cuisines and soon business started to pick up. They still occasionally receive orders from confused patrons in the Greater Toronto Area who need to be reminded the restaurant is in Ottawa, not in Brampton.

Eat the Strip co-writer and my partner Danielle and I were joined by two friends visiting from Quebec City on our most recent excursion to Brampton Authentic Indian Food. We ordered an assortment of classic North Indian dishes, including palak paneer, dal makhni and goat curry. We also tried the fish pakora and a round of masala chai.

![We ordered a large range of Punjabi and North Indian dishes, including the pictured garlic naan, which was served warm and soft](/uploads/img_4413.jpeg "Brampton Authentic Indian Food garlic naan")

The fried fish, battered and coated with a spicy masala mix, was served with a tart green chutney and was the perfect appetizer to whet our appetite. We ordered some garlic naan to be able to scoop up the curries.

The goat curry is a must-try. The meat served was so tender it was falling off the bone. As is customary with a good dal makhni, it was served creamy and pared well with the palak paneer. 

For those worried about heat, you can order each dish adjusted to your spice level.

We washed our food down with the excellent chai and chatted well into the evening. Eventually, we paid our bill, which came to around $120, thanked the couple for their wonderful hospitality and headed home, our Quebec City guests promising to return to try the best Punjabi and North Indian food east of Brampton.

Brampton Authentic Indian Foods

A nice evening with friends discussing Jamaican cuisine left us with, well, a hankering for Caribbean food.

However, there was one little problem: we had already decided to join some other pals at a new sushi joint in Orleans. Serendipitously, the restaurant was packed, and, without reservations, there was no way we were getting in.

I glanced at the strip mall across the street and noticed a sign advertising authentic Jamaican food. This was cosmic intervention. We were destined eat Jamaican food on this Saturday evening. So, our group of three happily trotted across the road to Fishys Original Jerk, which owner Jamie opened with his family in 2022. 

Right off the hop, we knew this place was special. People filed in to pick up their takeout orders of oxtail, goat curry and roti. Several kinds of fried fish and peppered shrimp sat behind a glass counter, calling our names. 

For this meal, I was joined by my friend Maya, who was visiting from Montreal and her friend Faisal, an Ottawa-based family doctor. Bonding over our shared love for Caribbean curries and dishes made from offal, Faisal and I become quick friends too.

We ordered an assortment of the fried fish sitting behind the glass display and a bag of the peppered shrimp. Yes, it comes in a bag, and you deshell it and pop into your mouth as you would with a pack of chips. It was semi-dry and boiled with peppers. A yummy appetizer.

![The bagged shrimp was a big hit with the group and helped whet our appetite for the main course](/uploads/img_4848.jpeg "Fishys Original Jerk pepper shrimp")

For the main course, we ordered the curried goat roti, oxtail and a soup called manish water. All three were so good we couldn’t choose a favourite. 

The goat roti, one of my favourite dishes in the world, was served with deliciously spiced tender goat meat that was falling off the bone. Faisal said he would eat it every day if he could. The oxtail was served with the ubiquitous red-bean rice and a zesty salad. It came in a rich stew which paired well with the rice. Our conversation was punctuated with bouts of ‘oohs’ and ‘yum.’

![The oxtail comprised of braised beef tails cooked with lima beans seasoned with Fishys' signature spice blend](/uploads/img_4853.jpeg "Fishys Original Jerk pepper oxtail")

If I had to choose the most unique dish on the menu, however, it would have to be the manish water. One order was enough for three of us to split. The well-spiced stew is served with tripe and generous chunks of goat. We were informed by our Jamaican friend the next day that the dish takes its name from its supposed male-virility boosting properties. The Internet tells me certain believe it may be an aphrodisiac and is sometimes given to grooms on the night of their wedding.

We washed down our meals with Irish Moss, a Jamaican beverage made with red algae boiled in milk, with sugar and various spices such as cinnamon and nutmeg. It reminded me of Mexican horchata, both in terms of flavour and taste.

We thanked Jamie and his staff for their excellent hospitality and left glad that we chanced upon their restaurant by happenstance, promising to return to try more of their magical dishes.

Fishys Original Jerk

UPDATE: Please note that as of February 2025 this restaurant has moved to a new location. The address has been updated, but note that elements of the article may, as such, be out of date.

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Indonesia. The country sounds as cool as the food is tasty. Thankfully, we didn’t have to travel quite as far to taste the flavours of this wonderful archipelago. 

We did, however, travel a little way from our home in Carlington to get to Djakarta Taste in Gatineau. It opened in 2022 and is today located in a little strip mall where a Mexican restaurant stood until quite recently. The signs have still not been fully changed. Hopefully Indonesian food will become the next neighbourhood haunt on Boulevard Fournier. 

I ordered the nasi padang. This came with two spring rolls, a chicken leg, rice, cucumber-carrot salad, fish broth to go with the rice and rendang. This last dish was truly incredible and reminded us of the mustard-oil coated bihari kebabs from India, which are some of our favorite kebabs.

![The nasi padang featured rendang, a rich meat-based dish braised in coconut milk, spiced and cooked over a period of several hours](/uploads/img_4811.jpeg "Djakarta Taste nasi padang")

Ameya ordered the chicken mi goreng—fried noodles fried with carrots, red cabbage, bok choy and chicken, topped with a fried egg. What really rounded out the whole meal was the homemade sambal—a fiery chili sauce ubiquitous in parts of southeast Asia—and a peanut sauce and a sweet and spicy dipping sauce. 

By the end of the meal, my mouth was on fire, but that’s because I added too much sambal to my plate. Otherwise, the spice-levels were mild and you can add the sauces to intensify the experience, or not, as you prefer.

![The fish broth that came with the nasi padang went excellently with the generous portion of rice and sambal](/uploads/img_4810.jpeg "Djakarta Taste fish broth")

The staff were kind and called the owner on her phone so we could get the scoop on their story. Turns out the restaurant relocated to Boulevard Fournier last year. They were originally located on Boulevard Saint-Joseph and have the good fortune of most of their regular clientele following them to the new location.

However, not many people in the area know about the restaurant, Atika, the owner, told us. Originally from Indonesia, she proudly added how the restaurant prepares everything fresh, including their spicy sabal sauce and the rendang, which blew us away.

We could taste this in the food, which was incredible and well-priced. We paid just over $40 for our food and left with lots of leftovers for dinner, promising the wonderful servers we’ll return to try, among other items, the nasi goreng.

Djakarta Taste

Merivale Road has been dubbed an emerging little South Asia in Ottawa.

Over the past few years, numerous subcontinental grocery stores and restaurants have opened on a stretch of the road south of Carling Avenue. Not far from the intersection is Chai Talks, a new Indian restaurant and café serving chai in clay pots and street food.

With the loss of Carlington Coffee House, our neighbourhood has lost a vital spot to hang out, sip a warm beverage and grab a bite to eat. With a serious dearth of cafes in our area, Chai Talks has come to the rescue. And with a closing time of 2 a.m. at the time of writing, night owls, including employees of the neighbouring Ottawa Civic Hospita, have a spot to chow down before beginning a graveyard shift. 

While technically not in a strip mall, Chai Talk is tucked away on the east-side of a commercial building on Carling Avenue, next to a pharmacy. The colourful eatery features dining tables that doubles as board games, some of which will be instantly recognizable to anyone who grew up in South Asia in the 1980s or 1990s. Cue the nostalgia.

We ordered a samosa bowl, tadka maggi and an iced cardamom chai. Over a game of ludo, we noticed how the restaurant started filling up around 9 p.m. The owner and the staff were kept on their toes by the growing clientele of students and folks from the Indian diaspora visiting to get a fix of street food from the homeland.

![Samosa chaat is a dish made with chickpeas, crispy samosa, assorted sweet and spicy chutneys and crunchy toppings](/uploads/img_4779.jpeg "Chai Talks samosa chaat")

The samosa chat was tangy, sweet and spicy. It was served with a green chutney, tamarind sauce and was topped with onions, cilantro and onions. One of the restaurant’s signature dishes, it remains a must-try at Chai Talks.

![The maggi was served warm and spicy, a perfect dish for a chilly April evening](/uploads/img_4780.jpeg "Chai Talks tadka maggi")

However, I am an unashamed Maggi noodles fan. For those who are unfamiliar, this is the Indian equivalent of mac and cheese—a comfort food consumed by students and those looking to get a fix of carbs on the cheap. At Chai Talks, they prepare it just like street vendors do in India. They add vegetables, oil and was that…a hint of cheese I tasted? If not, fret not. They even have a cheese maggi for order. The maggi was, hands down, my favourite dish.

We washed down our meals with the delicious iced chai. This was the real deal. You could tell it was made fresh and not from a powdered pre-mix. 

Our entire meal cost us less than $25. It's good knowing there’s a pot of cardamom chai brewing walking distance from our home.

Chai Talks

It’s no secret, Ng’s Cuisine serves some of the best Chinese food in Ottawa.

Offering traditional Cantonese and Sichuan food, the bustling restaurant has been a staple for dimsum and large family dinners for around two decades.

We’d been craving har gow; our plans for the day were dashed—it was time to head to Ng’s, located less than three kilometres away from us, for a languorous dimsum brunch.

We were seated almost immediately at the plastic-covered tables. The vibe was old-school, with wall-to-wall murals of traditional village scenes and paintings. We sat underneath a chalkboard with ostensibly Cantonese dish names scribbled that morning. Despite getting there after peak dimsum hours, the restaurant was quite full of families sipping tea, chatting and chowing down on delicious dumplings.

We were promptly handed menus and served a pot of tea. I love that part of the ritual, which cascades across dimsum joints in North America. We ordered an assortment of dishes, including sampan congee, cuttle fish, deep fried squid tentacles and, the king of dim sum, har gow. Craving greens, we also ordered stir-fried Chinese broccoli in oyster sauce.

Before any of that, however, we received our egg tarts. Yes, we ordered two egg tarts for dessert and, famished, began our meal unapologetically with dessert. The tarts were fresh and buttery, a cross between English custard tarts and Portuguese Pastel de nata.

![The egg tarts consist of an outer pastry crust filled with egg custard](/uploads/img_4645.jpeg "Ng's Cuisine egg tarts")

We learned that the restaurant was sold recently.  Nikki, one of the new owners, told us the restaurant will by and large remain the same. She added that the new owners recently renovated the basement to allow for more diners. While the much-loved menu won’t be changing anytime soon, she said the new owners hope to do some touch-ups. 

“We want to keep it the same,” she said. But we want to have a younger vibe.”

The first dish to arrive was the congee, served in a large bowl. Served with generous chunks of shrimp and crunchy peanuts, we loved the abundance of fresh ginger and the porridge-like consistency.

![Sampan congee is a Guangdong congee dish that originated in Lychee Bay, Guangzhou, Guangdong](/uploads/img_4647.jpeg "Ng's Cuisine sampan congee")

While each bite of har-gow fulfilled our cravings, the squid tentacles stole the show. They were crunchy, fresh and zesty. The tempura-like coating had a nice peppery aftertaste and we polished off the dish rapidly.

![The cuttlefish was creamy, served with a squid-like consistency and one of our favourite parts of the meal](/uploads/img_4648.jpeg "Ng's Cuisine cuttlefish in a special sauce")

Our total came to just over $55. With plenty of congee to take home, we head out with happy bellies and plans to try an assortment of other dumplings on our next visit to the legendary Ng’s—and to see what vibe the new owners will bring.

Ng's Cuisine

Not long ago, a long-time reader recommended an Iraqi spot in the west-end. 

Eitan Waldman suggested we try the succulent kabab and fragrant rice at Sheikh Amandi, an Iraqi takeout restaurant on Carling Avenue, located near Bayshore. 

“The food is delicious and amazing value if you buy platters for feeding a group,” Eitan wrote to us in February. “My favourite meats I've tried are the lamb kabob or the whole chicken. But the real star is the rice.”

Eitan didn’t need to say much more. Mandi, one of the recommended dishes, is a big hit with our family. Plus—rather shamefully, admittedly—we didn’t yet have an Iraqi spot on Eat the Strip. So, on a beautiful spring weekend, we headed over to the restaurant to pick up our order of the one-kilo lamb mandi.

My life has been forever altered, for the better, now that I have tasted the delectable delight that is mandi. Never had I had more tender meats or spiced rice raptures. Little did I know when we started Eat the Strip that different countries even have their own versions of mandi, changing spices, toppings and preparation styles. 

![A family from Baghdad started Sheikh Almandi around a decade to provide Ottawans with home-cooked Iraqi food](/uploads/img_4313.jpeg "Sheikh Almandi one-kilo lamb mandi")

We ordered the family-sized lamb mandi to share outside with my mother on a beautiful, sunny day. The flavours of the slow cooked meat were matched perfectly with the robust flavouring of the rice. Mandi is fast becoming one of our favourite dishes as it’s inexplicably comforting, yet less spicy than its biryani counterpart, which can really pack a punch. 

In their takeout package, Sheikh Almandi provided us with a container of mixed peanuts and raisins, as well as a zesty chutney that we would love to recreate. (It reminded us of pico de gallo and added an additional freshness to the meal). 

The one-kilo lamb was perfect for the three of us, and there were still leftovers for almost another two meals—all for the reasonable price of $54.

Sheikh Almandi was very different to the Mandi from Alhalabi Restaurant, a Syrian restaurant featured earlier in our blog. However, I could not pick a favourite between the two because they are both so unique. We highly recommend both.

Sheikh Almandi

A lot of Eat the Strip readers have written to us about good sushi joints recently.

Going through correspondence, it seemed like a no-brainer to hit up a sushi spot this weekend. But the question remained: which one?

Nearby Sapporo Sushi has a reputation of being a quiet juggernaut; an unassuming spot that serves excellent sushi in the west-end. We recently got word that the former chef of the beloved Suisha Gardens, which closed last year, has opened his own sushi spot in Orleans—we suspect we’ll be at both very soon.

But on this sunny Saturday, we chose to go to Sushi 29, a takeout restaurant with excellent Google reviews operating out of a strip mall in Blackburn Hamlet.

Lin opened Sushi 29 around three years ago, but has worked as a sushi chef since 2007, when he began working in the food industry in Toronto. Eventually, he moved to Ottawa and got a job at Sushi Kan, an east-end sushi restaurant with two locations. He lost his job during the pandemic and decided to start his own shop.

The takeout-only restaurant is located between a physiotherapy clinic and a financial services company’s office. Lin chatted with me as he sliced a cut of salmon. He told me he hopes to open a sit-down location someday, but the limited inventory in Ottawa has been difficult to navigate.

We purchased the 40-piece tray, which at just $48 plus taxes, was an excellent price. Turns out both me and Danielle, my partner and co-writer of this blog, had enough for two meals. The portions were excellent, too.

![The 40-piece tray comes with 10 pieces of futomaki,12 maki roll, six pieces of hoso maki and 12 nigiris](/uploads/img_3037.jpeg "Sushi 29 40-piece tray")

Danielle’s enjoyed the futomaki rolls, with their spicy filling and the pickled ginger served alongside. My uncontested favourite was the maki roll. The tempura shrimp served with fresh chunks of avocado and salty nori seaweed made me very happy indeed. The sushi kept well in the fridge until the evening, including the rice, which didn’t get clumpy.

The nigiri also served a special mention. Sliced portions of raw fish were immaculately served on top of rice. Both tasted fresh and paired well with the accompanying wasabi. 

We’ll certainly be going back for more.

Sushi 29

Next time you’re on the highway and see the exit to Carp, take it—your belly won’t regret it.

We drove there this past weekend to try out some authentic Turkish breakfast. That’s right. Some of the best Turkish food on offer in Ottawa is not in the city core, or its suburbs, but in the idyllic community of Carp.

Eat the Strip reader Daniel dropped us a tip earlier this year: “Try Nazli's Kitchen & Cafe, Daniel wrote. “I had the kafte sandwich and a latte. The sandwich had crisp lettuce, great tomatoes and onions. The meatballs were tasty.”

This weekend, we paid heed to Daniel’s recommendation and made the roughly-25-kilometre drive west on the Queensway to try Nazli's Kitchen & Cafe. Now, admittedly, the restaurant is not located in a strip mall. But the overwhelmingly positive reviews on Google—an average of 4.9 out of five—coupled with our readers’ rave reviews, meant we had to go.

Operated by Nazli and her husband, Frank, we got to the restaurant around 1 p.m. It’s located on the main road that leads you downtown. Inside, Turkish music plays on the speakers as Frank beckons at one of the four sun kissed tables. When I ask for his preferred item on the breakfast menu, he tells me everything is excellent as it’s made by his wife.

He undoubtedly gets a few brownie points for that.

We decided to go with menemen and the mihlama. For beverages, we ordered a Turkish coffee and a hot glass of salep, a traditional Turkish beverage made from sweetened milk, cinnamon and ground orchid tubers, which are used to thicken the beverage.

![Menemen is a popular Turkish dish that includes eggs, tomato, green peppers and spices such as ground black and red pepper cooked in olive oil](/uploads/img_4113.jpeg "Nazli's Kitchen & Cafe menemen")

The standout dish was the menemen. Served alongside warm, crispy bread the dish was perfect item for a Sunday breakfast. It was light, eggy and refreshingly simple. The ingredients, including a healthy portion of fresh tomatoes, peppers and herbs, were lightly cooked in olive oil and carried a signature Mediterranean taste.

![Famous for the variety that comes from the Black Sea coast of Turkey, mihlama is prepared with several types of cheese and thickened with cornmeal](/uploads/img_4112.jpeg "Nazli's Kitchen & Cafe mihlama")

We also really enjoyed the mihlama. When combined with the menemen, it tasted like bruschetta served with fondue. The melted cheese was gooey, stringy and perfect on a crisp day.

Both dishes cost around $15 each. We even had enough leftovers for a dinner appetizer. On our way out, we thanked Nazli and Frank for their hospitality and delicious offerings.

Nazli's Kitchen & Cafe

I don’t know about you, but there are times I just crave true comfort food—wontons, buns and noodle soup. 

So, when my brother Ameya and his partner Danielle—co-creators of Eat the Strip—Invited us to come along to Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun, it was a no-brainer. 

Side note: as a big sister, I’m so proud of them.

OK more importantly, let’s get into the food. Let me set this up for you. It is hard to find really good Chinese food, specifically Shanghai cuisine. You know it, I know it.

So we came with tempered expectations. 

We got there at 4:30 p.m. on a Sunday and got a spot right away. It’s a relatively small restaurant, so if you want a guaranteed spot, earlier the better. 

![We got excited when we saw our tables had instructions on how to eat the buns](/uploads/img_4039.jpeg "Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun eating instructions")

We started with the signatures: pan fried wontons (10 pieces for $12.99) and pan-fried buns (four pieces for $7.99). 

I knew we had a winner with the first bite into a wonton. I mean, the four of us made those foodgasm noises. The wontons were juicy, soft and crunchy all at once. They even had toasted sesame seeds on them. And that’s when I knew we had a winner.

Then came the signature dish, the pan fried buns. There are actual instructions on the restaurant table on how to eat the them. You took a bite of the bun, let it cool, sip on the soup inside, and dip it back in the best chili oil and vinegar combo and then proceed to gobble it all up. I will warn you—the hardest thing about the buns is waiting for them to cool, because you just want to dive in. They were delicious—Ameya’s favourite. Succulent, soupy and full of flavour, and easy to see why they’re a part of the restaurant’s name.

![With an average rating of 4.7 out of five on Google at the time of publishing, with many raving about the pan fried buns, it was a no-brainer for us to order the doughy delights](/uploads/img_4044.jpeg "Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun pan fried buns")

After a few bites of his bun, Ameya told our waiter: “My life has changed.” The waiter responded saying he had heard that before. He also told us the previous night—Saturday night—at one point there was a line-up of eight groups outside the door.

It’s probably a good time as any to share that I’m diabetic. My personal philosophy is I do my best most of the time and indulge some of the time. This was the best indulgence. There wasn’t any use of excess sugar and the food tasted so fresh.

We knew we had to order more and chose two house specials and one staple from the menu. 

We got the spicy beef brisket noodle soup ($18.99), the shrimp and pork wonton soup (12 pieces for $11.99) and the pickled vegetables and shredded pork noodle soup ($14.99).

The spicy beef brisket noodle soup resulted in the same foodgasm noises from all of us. This is by far one of the best dishes I’ve ever had in recent years. It was full of flavour, specifically that umami flavour. Danielle said it perfectly: “Seven layers of heaven in flavour.” The brisket was tender and cooked to perfection. If you are craving comfort, you found it, go on and order it.

![The noodles were perfectly cooked, the broth delectable](/uploads/img_4057.jpeg "Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun spicy beef brisket noodle soup")

I loved the shrimp and pork wonton soup and I thought 12 pieces was very generous. The house vinegar and chili oil just added so much flavour and I was surprised at just how fresh the soup and wontons tasted.

My four-year-old enjoyed the pickled vegetables and shredded pork noodle soup. I appreciated that they separated the pickled vegetables and shredded pork from the noodles, so he could just enjoy clear soup and noodles. The noodles were al dente and he loved it. Us adults enjoyed the pickled veggies and shredded pork separately.

We ended our meal by ordering another round of pan-fried wontons, because why not?

Ameya chatted with the owner, who told him he is originally from Shanghai and moved to Ottawa from New York 10 years ago. He worked in construction and would bring his wife’s cooking to his colleagues. They kept wanting to do more projects with him and he figured out it was because they loved his wife’s food. 

This inspired the restaurant, which just opened in December. Maybe it’s another reason why the menu wasn’t expansive or overwhelming—they are staying focused on the best recipes. Food can fast foster a connection between people and you can see how it happened with the owner and his co-workers—and now with customers.

Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun, I’ll be back. 

It’s been an honour writing this entry for Eat the Strip. I hope you’ll indulge a big sister, who spent the weekend witnessing the passion and hard work behind this project. And, of course, enjoying the food.

I am so proud of Ameya, Danielle and of the Ottawa Morning team for bringing Ottawans these food stories. And of people like Tracy who write in their recommendations of restaurants at strip malls. And of people who go visit these restaurants and try their food.

You are all the ultimate supporters and champions of small business owners who have big dreams, big hearts and big skills. They have all of you behind them.

You represent the best of Ottawa.

Bite & Bite Shanghai Fried Bun

There’s nothing like hot momos to warm you up on a cold day.

After several painful momo-less years, we finally have a few restaurants serving the delectable Tibetan dumplings ubiquitous in Central and South Asia. Heck, we even have two restaurants with momo right in the name—The Momo Spot on Holland Avenue and Momo Bistro on Merivale Road. 

Add to this growing list of momo-serving restaurants Everest Cuisine, an Indo-Nepalese restaurant that opened last month and prides itself on serving authentic Nepalese fare.

A Nepalese restaurant? In Ottawa? I couldn’t contain my excitement when Eat the Strip reader Jill wrote to us about it. Fortunately, it was the weekend and when I asked my partner and co-writer of this blog Danielle if she wanted to join me for an excursion, she jumped at the opportunity. Our friends Carol and Ravi joined along for the adventure.

The restaurant is in a strip mall on Carling Avenue, near Maitland Avenue. Photos of Nepal’s iconic mountains adorn the colourful walls. Gentle, instrumental versions of famous Bollywood songs waft from the speakers. Several Nepalese families arrived at dinner time and greeted Sagar, one of the owners, as they walked in.

Our group of four ordered a plate of the Pokhara-style kothey momos, bhatmas sadelko, rayo saag, goat curry, daal gobi Manchurian and jeera rice. In fact, the servers allowed us to share a whole thali, which also came with a tasty yogurt-based desert called juju dhau. We ended up ordering a second round of goat curry because it was that good.

![Despite being four, the restaurant allowed us to share the Nepalese masu bhat (goat curry) thali, which came with this delicious yogurt we all enjoyed for desert](/uploads/img_3949.jpeg "Everest Cuisine non veg thali set with goat curry")

Apart from the fall-off-the-bone goat meat, we couldn’t get enough of the momos. Being from Delhi, I’m used to steamed momos served with a fiery tomato-based sauce, but the Pokhara variety were milder and pan-seared. Quite tasty.

![The kothey momos are a signature Nepalese dish found across the country](/uploads/img_3943.jpeg "Everest Cuisine pokhara kothey momos")

The rayo saag was very different from the typical North Indian saag people are familiar with. Instead of using spinach, the dish resembled collard greens and was cooked with lots of mustard seeds and lightly spiced. 

The bhatmas was very crunchy and garnished with a healthy portion of chillies, green onions and ginger. While too crunchy for some in our group, I found it to go well with the daal and rice, providing some heat and textural contrast to the curry-heavy meal.

![Bhatmas sadeko are roasted Nepalese soybeans mixed with several fragrant herbs and spices](/uploads/img_3946.jpeg "Everest Cuisine bhatmas sadeko")

Between mouthfuls of delicious goat curry and ghee-infused jeera rice, we learned that Sagar has worked in kitchens for over 20 years. He decided to make a go of it on his own when he realized Ottawa needed an authentic Nepalese restaurant. Also trained as a sushi chef, he urged us to try some of the sushi on the menu during our next visit.

Evenly split, our meal came to around $25 per person. We were pleasantly surprised to see that a plate of 10 Kathmandu steamed momos cost less than $15.

We sat and chatted for hours after our meal was over. Eventually we languorously made our way over to our cars, relishing the conversation we had thanks to the wonderful food and ambiance at Everest.

Everest Cuisine

Everywhere you look there seems to be a new pizza place popping up along Merivale Road.

As the main thoroughfare of Carlington—our neighbourhood—we’ve been fortunate enough to try out almost every single one of them. Recently, we made the excursion to Pizzalicious, opened in 2023, located across the street from Maple Delight Pizza, another new pizza joint in the neighbourhood we reviewed last summer.

I was greeted by the owner, who chatted with me as my order of two pizzas, nacho and vegetarian, were baking in the oven. Far from being competitors, he told me that him and the gentleman who owns Maple Delight Pizza are friends and immigrated to Canada around the same time. They’re both from Gujarat, a state in western India.

![The fine folks at Pizzalicious slicing our pizza](/uploads/img_3914.jpeg "Pizzalicious owner")

The pizzas were still warm when I got home. We tucked into the nacho pizza first. The layer of warm nachos gave the whole thing a distinctly almond-flour flavour. This experiment was certainly a success. The dough was soft and fresh and the generous drizzle of chipotle sauce gave the pizza a nice kick.

![The jalapenos gave our pizza a nice kick, but the owner indicated they can modify the spice level according to custumers' taste](/uploads/img_3913.jpeg "Pizzalicious nacho pizza")

The vegetarian pizza was extra cheesy and hit the sweet spot. We were big fans of fresh vegetable toppings, including a generous portion of olives.

The real showstopper, however, was the garlic sauce. This was possibly one of the best we’ve ever had in Ottawa. Make sure to grab a few if you make the trek to Pizzalicious.

At around $30 for both pizzas the hit to the wallet was not bad either. We had leftovers for a classic pizza breakfast the next morning. Moreover, the owner has told us he plans to add new crossover pizzas to the menu in the coming months, including desi pizzas, which naturally made us very happy.

You can’t go wrong with choosing a pizza spot in Carlington. The best part? All of them have very distinct offerings. Make sure to stop at Pizzalicious as you tour the world of tasty pies of Merivale Road—and don’t forget to try the garlic sauce.

Pizzalicious

Everything may be bigger in Texas, but have you been to Merivale Station Restaurant?

That’s what we were left thinking after a recent excursion to the restaurant located in a strip mall on Merivale Road near Hunt Club Road.

Ben Cousins, a good friend from university, was in town for the weekend and we decided to check out the restaurant on a Saturday afternoon. It had been on our list of places to visit since last fall, when Eat the Strip reader Lana reached out suggested we visit. 

“Definitely mom and pop. Portions are huge. Prices are low. Food is terrific,” Lana wrote. “You get a huge plate of coleslaw each with most entrées. Hidden gem.”

Lana wasn’t kidding.

Their portions were truly generous. Ben ordered two eggs with a side of home fries, toast and bacon. I went with the hamburger and mashed potatoes. My meal came with a side of coleslaw and a cup of coffee. With tip, our bill came to a mere $25. 

We reached the restaurant shortly after 1:30 p.m. It seemed like we had beat the lunch rush, but the restaurant was still quite full. A dozen or so tables accommodated several chatting families. An open-concept kitchen meant you could see the chef working the griddle, frying eggs and house potatoes. Our server Mary told us the restaurant opened just over a year as she brought us our meals.

![I had never had a hot hamburger before and, quite frankly, expected a typical hamburger served with gravy, but what I got resembled schnitzel and was quite tasty](/uploads/img_3897.jpeg "Merivale Station Restaurant hot hamburger with fries of mashed potato")

Doused in gravy, my hamburger and mashed potatoes were served on a plate that covered pretty much half the length of the table. The mashed potatoes were delicious and the hamburger well-spiced, with a hint of pepper providing a nice aftertaste. Ben nodded approvingly when I asked him how his classic breakfast tasted.

“It's hard to mess up,” he said, after swallowing a mouthful of bacon and eggs. While true, the sheer portion of the meal had us both very happy with our choice.

![I'm excited to try the classic breakfast special next time, which came to a total of just under eight dollars](/uploads/img_3895.jpeg "Merivale Station Restaurant two eggs with home fries, toast and choice of protein")

Ben then told me his parents were traveling to Barbados the following day. Ben’s father asked him to pick up over a dozen frozen egg rolls from Golden Palace Restaurant, located on Carling Avenue. To take them with him. To the Caribbean. This was an outstanding level of dedication to strip mall food.

So, we left the restaurant with our bellies very happy, only to drive over to Golden Palace for another strip mall adventure. But more on that another time.

Merivale Station Restaurant

A taste of the homeland is never too far away in Ottawa.

We’re spoiled for choice when it comes to Indian food in Ottawa, but it wasn’t always this way. I remember arriving here in 2010 and struggling to find restaurants that served authentic North Indian fare. 

That’s no longer the case.

One of the newest Indian restaurants serving up excellent food is Sona the Indian Kitchen, located in a strip mall near Bank Street and Hunt Club Road. Opened in 2023, the restaurant has already racked up hundreds of reviews on Google, boasting an average rating of 4.8 out of 5. 

![Jeera aloo is a typical vegetarian Indian dish which is often served as a side dish and pairs well with roti or rice](/uploads/img_3868.jpeg "Sona the Indian kitchen jeera aloo")

Moreover, several Eat the Strip readers reached out to us encouraging us to go check out the restaurant. 

“For us, newly immigrated from the UK, it’s a lovely, lovely Indian restaurant,” Leigh Bogardis wrote to us last fall. “The thali is excellent value, the spice levels can be tailored to your tastes and it’s our go to restaurant for when friends visit.”

“The people there are lovely,” Leigh added.

We had to go check this place out, so we headed over last weekend and ordered several classic North Indian dishes, including dal tadka, jeera aloo, lamb rogan josh and chicken tikka.

![Rogan josh is a lamb curry with a heady combination of intense spices in onion tomato curry sauce](/uploads/img_3865.jpeg "Sona the Indian Kitchen lamb rogan josh")

While everything was delicious, the rogan josh and jeera aloo were immediate hits. Juicy chunks of lamb were cooked to perfection and went along perfectly with a side of green peas pulao. The jeera aloo was spiced well, salty and had a nice kick to it without being overwhelmingly spicy.

Though Sona is a tad more expensive that your usual strip mall joint—with several main course dishes priced between $20 and $25—it’s worth it. The food here is as authentic as it comes. 

![We recommend pairing the lamb rogan josh with pulao, a rice-dish made with peas and spices](/uploads/img_3867.jpeg "Sona the Indian Kitchen green peas pulao")

The space is large and colourful and the service was incredible. Not only was our server patient, she took the time to ensure all dishes met the dietary restrictions of our group. There were plenty of vegetarian and vegan options available and, as mentioned by Leigh, they can adjust spice levels according to preference.

We left satisfied and with a promise to return. Leigh was correct—Sona is a lovely restaurant that deserves all the praise it gets.

Sona the Indian Kitchen

It was a busy work week and all I could think of was meat pies to kick off the weekend. 

Eat the Strip reader Samantha Sigler had reached out to us around a year ago, urging us to try the meat pies at Jasmine Bakery, located in a west-end strip mall on Iris Street, near the Ikea.

She said the manaqeesh at Jasmine was the best she’d had in Ottawa. We didn’t have anything prepared for dinner, so I went to go pick up a few pies.

I arrived at the shop half an hour before it closed. It boasted a clean décor with two little tables at the front. Most of the customers filing in had orders for takeout, keeping the two young men working behind the counter—brothers Mohamad and Ammar—quite busy.

The two had fled their hometown of Homs, Syria, with their families because of the Syrian civil war. They arrived in Canada by way of Jordan around four years ago and opened Jasmine Bakery—a family business—just over year ago. Business has been steady since. And for good reason. Their meat pies were, as Samantha said, some of the best I’ve ever tasted.

Traditional Levantine meat pies come in various forms. For example, there’s manaqeesh—a cousin of sfiha, the type of pies they sell at Jasime. They’re both types of flatbread topped with minced meat, cheese and other delicious Middle Eastern toppings.

I ordered a traditional meat pie and the chicken shawarma pie. They were both heated and served promptly. Famished, I decided to try two at the shop and order a few for takeout.

![The pomegranate molasses gave the meat pies a delicious, tart flavour that was unlike anything I had tried before](/uploads/img_3842.jpeg "Jasime Bakery meat pie")

The meat pie, priced at less than $5, was like nothing I had ever tried before. Made with ground meat, tomatoes, pomegranate molasses and other delicious herbs and spices, it was complex and paired excellently with the free side of garlic sauce. The molasses made it tart and the chilli powdered they sprinkled on it gave it a nice kick.

![The chicken in the shawarma pie seemed like it has been marinated in yogurt and spices for hours before being cooked, similar to chicken tikka](/uploads/img_3839.jpeg "Jasmine Bakery chicken shawarma pie")

The chicken in the shawarma pie reminded me of chicken tikka I grew up eating in India. It was cheesy, salty and an excellent way to get full fast. Despite visiting near closing time, the bread was still fresh.

As a first-time customer, Mohamad insisted I try their chocolate-dipped piece desert on the house. It was a timbit-sized coconut chocolate cake topped with pistachios. Not too sweet, it hit the spot after my meal. It made sense that they’re just as well known for their deserts as they are for the pies because their father used to own a sweet shop in Syria.

Despite closing time, the brothers humoured me with tales about food and their family. As I bid them farewell, one of the customers smiled and told me everything they make at Jasmine is delicious. 

I believe her.

Jasmine Bakery

We glanced at the clock and realized we’d make it to Bienvenidos Latin Market half an hour before closing if we got out of the door right away.

Around 20 minutes later we were greeted at the grocery store by manager Josie, who recommended we try a tamal mexicano, a Colombian beef empanada and a caramelized onion and cheese empanada. 

Yes, you read that correctly. Bienvenidos is one of those grocery stores that doubles as a restaurant. They have a seating area that can accommodate several families. Long-time readers know we’re big fans of grocery stores that sell prepared meals because they tend to be delicious. Bienvenidos opened in 2017 as a family-run business. In 2022, it moved to a new location in a strip mall on St. Laurent Boulevard. The owners, originally from El Salvadaor, opened the business to cater to Ottawa’s burgeoning Latin American community.\
\
The smell of corn wafted from the ovens as jovial Latin music played on the speakers. We took a seat next to a colourful, wall-length mural of a young woman and an older woman. Perhaps a granddaughter and her grandmother? 

Once our food was ready, Josie surprised us with a complimentary chicken empanada, which was my partner and Eat the Strip co-writer Danielle’s favourite. The mild mozzarella cheese and shredded chicken filling was amazing, while the doughy pastry was flaky and soft.

![Handmade and filled with savoury seasoned shredded chicken, mozzarella cheese, tomato Sauce, onions and pepper, the chicken empanada is one of the most popular items at Bienvenidos](/uploads/img_3757.jpeg "Bienvenidos Latin Market chicken empanada")

The tamale was served moist with a spicy chicken filling—true to its Mexican roots. The salsa verde, jalapeño and corn base made for an excellent appetizer that whet our appetite.

![The Mexican tamale was made with corn flour, shredded chicken and prepared with mildly spicy green sauce made with tomatillos, onions, poblano chili, garlic and other spices](/uploads/img_3754.jpeg "Bienvenidos Latin Market Mexican tamale")

Both empanadas were delicious, but the deep-fried beef one was quite unique. The crispy, flaky dough reminded us of a Latin American samosa. Unlike some of the other empanadas, the filling contained spiced potatoes. It paired perfectly with the in-house salsa made with chopped tomato, onion, cilantro and lemon juice.

We paid just over $30 for our meal, which included an additional two empanadas and a tamale for takeout. We bid Josie goodbye knowing full well we’ll be back to try more of the delicious empanadas soon.

Bienvenidos Latin Market

Restaurants are popping up at such a dizzying pace on Merivale Road, south of Carling Avenue, that we can barely keep up. That said, there are some eateries in the neighbourhood that have withstood the test of time. We recently took a trip down Merivale Road—and memory lane—to pay homage to one such spot.

Mellos Coffee Shop has operated out of a strip mall on Merivale Road near the recently closed Dairy Queen for around 60 years. This unfussy joint has served classic North American breakfast fare at doggedly cheap prices and has had a loyal clientele that will beat the morning rush hour to get their fill of bacon, eggs coffee and that old-time charm only diners of yore can provide.

I arrived just in time to see the place start to fill up, around 8:30 a.m. I took a booth at the back and was promptly served coffee. There were a few old-timers seated in the booths nearby. I ordered a vegetarian omelette with no tomatoes, brown bread and house fries. 

![The no-frills vegetarian omlette reminded me of my grandmother's omlettes](/uploads/img_3680.jpeg "Mellos Coffee Shop vegetarian omlette")

My omelette arrived in under 10 minutes with plenty of tomatoes. Understanding the unwritten rules of such an establishment, I smiled and tucked in without complaint. Unless you have a dietary restriction—I just happen to dislike the skin of tomatoes in my omelette—you let the chef do their thing. That’s part of the charm.

I gobbled up my omelette and the heavily buttered and still-warm toast. The house-fries were the highlight; salty and lightly spiced, I enjoyed eating the potatoes while listening to elderly couples chatting over the soft music wafting from the radio. While the world may be a very different place compared to when the diner opened in the 1950s, not a lot has changed inside.

![The decor at Mellos doesn't seemed to have changed much over the past six decades, which imparts it a certain charm](/uploads/img_3678.jpeg "Mellos Coffee Shop decor")

Much to my surprise, the bill came to a total of just under $10. That’s it. It’s extra remarkable when you think about how everything has become more expensive recently. Even prices seemed to have remained unchanged at Mellos.

As I headed outside to take a photo of the restaurant’s facade for this article, I waved at one of the old-timers as he got into his old Pontiac convertible, smiled and drove off.

Fredericton’s best small spots