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The Bellevue Diner
My favourite restaurant in Toronto at this moment? The Bellevue Diner rocks. An old acquaintance owns it, and I have never had a bad meal there (though I usually stumble out with that sick feeling that I should have maybe left something on my plate).

It inhabits the space where that old Portugese restaurant used to be that no one ever went to, on the fringes of Kensington Market, at the corner of Bellevue and Lippincott Streets.

Red velvet curtains, checkered table cloths and mellow lighting, and a slaver-worthy menu. Never crowded. It is has the perfect ratio of bohemian:upscale (your parents will like it and there is a refreshing lack of snotty hipsters). The wait staff is laid back and attentive.

My mom took me and Chris there last night. I had lamb (fell off the bone, as they say) on a bed of hot cabbage and pomegranate jus. My mom and Chris had shitake mushroom chicken breast on a rosti that bore a remarkable resemblance to potato kugel with grilled vegetables (kinda Asian-Ashkenazi fusion). For dessert we had a zingy lemon tart. Is it just my Jewish family, or does every family leave an absurd last bite on the plate that everyone proceeds to ignore, even though they secretly want it? Oh, and I forgot: Their fries are choice. Simply choice. Urp.

I like food, I really do.

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