By Dylan Dias
Pre-Fall on Queen West – the late sunset collects itself between narrowed laneways, the softened light of heritage storefronts catch the sidewalk, and the sound of great food, great friends, and full patios fill the evening. And if you’re lucky, while walking the strip and seeking a warm, comforting meal over a glass of vino, you might just grab a table at one of the neighbourhood’s most beloved gems – The Good Son.
Tucked in toward the north-western edge of Queen and Dovercourt, The Good Son feels as friendly and familiar as its name promises. A cozy interior brimming with intimate wooden tables under amber lamplight – simple, rustic, and ornate at the same time. Sage green walls, plush leather in oxblood and mocha, and gentle candlelight lends itself more to an old-world library than it does a restaurant. And charming, opulent little touches – like the crown moulding that lines the ceiling, the antique wall clocks and picture frames in vintage wood and brass, and the shimmering chandelier that anchors it all – create a sensory pocket of comfort that is both storybook and living room. A little bit magical and a little bit grandfather. The waypoint of a memorable menu to come.
I dined on this evening with my dear friend Amalia Bentivoglio – a talented stylist in Toronto with meaningful and nostalgic roots in Italy. The Good Son, in a way, mirrors that sensibility. A collection of food with a beautiful Italian thread that runs through many of its dishes but hinted with ingredients and concepts that carry it to a more global place – much like the people of Toronto and how we diversify our city. For instance – Tuscan kale with Parmigiano Reggiano and prosciutto sitting alongside seared tuna in a yuzu ponzu; or a classic rigatoni coated in a vodka rose with stracciatella, next to an Atlantic salmon finished with pearl couscous and a vibrant chermoula. But it’s perhaps the beautifully-made pizzas that find themselves at the heart of The Good Son – centred around a bustling kitchen and magnificent wood-fired oven that echoes the old brick of the building itself. Fresh ingredients, blistered dough, and all the joy that comes with sharing that first bite with a friend. So, we started there.
A beautifully made white pizza might be one of my favourite ways to enjoy the classic – less moisture than a traditional red pizza and typically a bit lighter. We opted for the pesto fungi – a warm, pillowy dough with a fluffy outer crust and a thin, delicate base that just barely relaxed at the touch. Soft and satiating beneath a veneer of walnut pesto and topped with melted Brie, fresh fior di latte, a hint of sweet pears, and all the rich, earthy umami you’d expect from perfectly roasted mushrooms. At the risk of sounding a touch inappropriate, our pesto fungi was nutty, creamy, buttery, and sumptuous – hearts were made full.
Following that, we decided to traverse into one of The Good Son’s nods toward the cultural mosaic that is our city – their take on a bulgogi short rib. Tender, sticky, and sweet, the short ribs were glazed in a 24-hour marinade and charred with love. Garlicky, gingery, deep and dark – piled generously on top of the acidity and brightness of a kimchi fried rice and the salty, sharp, and citrusy burst of a togarashi mayo. It was a surprising departure from what reads like a menu that stays fairly true to form; in a way that almost rejects fusion and instead just embraces what it aspires to be – delicious and authentic.
Finally, and perhaps my favourite moment of the evening – our silky, heartwarming, and unforgettable mushroom tagliatelle. You just had to be there. The stand-out dish of the evening by far – expertly made and expertly cooked ribbons of pasta gently tossed and folded, like treasure, through a porcini-infused stock and the glistening shine of good truffle oil. Fine herbs and a healthy dusting of Grana Padano for butter and nuttiness came together to form an exceptional bite – glossy, toothsome, savoury, and sexy. I had to say it. It melted the ice in our hearts and made us blush along the way. A wonderful plate of pasta that won’t soon be forgotten. Squisito.
In the end, what made The Good Son so memorable to us was how approachable and affirming it all felt. Not just in the kind and hospitable reception, nor just in the intimate antiquity of its décor – but in the honesty of its cooking. There is a fullness to food that’s meant to fill your heart, not just your stomach, and the feeling is almost tangible when you know the artists creating it have cooked it with that intention. Everything we tasted was prepared exceptionally well but served in a genuine and sincere way – like visiting a neighbour’s home. The perfect way to enjoy a casual, weekday evening with a friend. Nothing spectacular – but actually – spectacular. Thank you for having us. – VV
Photography courtesy of The Good Son & Easton Creative Communications
