West Collier Street: The Tuesday Taste

They had the best selection

They were poisoned with protection

There was nothing that they needed

Nothing left to find

Another Tuesday... another Taste. Seeing as yesterday was an objectively terrible day for anybody who isn't an extremely rich white person... the timing of this review isn't stellar. I'm upset and scared too, trust me, but please take my hand for a moment and follow me down this diversion of humour and culinary insight. They can bruise our spirit, but never our imagination.... so join me on a trip through the latter my dear friends.

We're doing something a little different this Tuesday around the week: whereas these reviews are usually either fast food joints or take-out spots that may or may not have seating inside... this time you're getting an actual sit-down restaurant experience, and one of Toronto's very finest Italian restaurants at that. Hello sir, can you please hand me that piano?

Piano Piano now have four locations in the GTA (three in Toronto, one in Oakville), a fifth location currently in the works for Leslieville, a few additional affiliated sister restaurants around the city, plus a successful frozen pizza enterprise you can find in several grocery stories. Needless to say, global pizza dominance appears to be the plan (their owner even jokingly suggests so).

Indeed, Piano Piano has been serving critically acclaimed Italian fare essentially since the doors opened at their original spot on Harbord Street in early 2016. Head chef/co-owner Victor Barry initially worked his way up from pastry chef to running the kitchen and owning the previous restaurant in the space, Splendido, which was a far more intimate and fancier upscale (expensive) style of dining. After half a decade of that, Barry surprisingly closed Splendido and quickly replaced it with his new concept: the more accessibly casual and pizza focused Piano Piano.

Now, I have a bit of a story with Piano Piano (please please, I can hear those groans in the back) so buckle up and settle in for this ride into the Wayback Machine. Autumn of 2019 was when I was doing my Second Great Pizza Quest... which was also not a great period for me mentally. I'd promised an old friend (and occasional pizza trying associate) we would go together sometime to try Piano Piano since they were so highly regarded (the Harbord one at the time was still their only location).

Instead... sigh. Some random dreary weekday I had a two hour break between a double shift, and in my awkward sadness I thought: "F*k it. I'm gonna have some drinks, sneak on the Spadina streetcar up to Harbord and get one of their pizzas as takeout and head back to work".

What a great plan! I showed up to make my order at Harbord Piano Piano already half in the bag (probably hadn't eaten anything but cashews all day) and mistimed things so badly I was semi-late coming back for my second shift (with no opportunity to eat the damn pizza). Naturally, my friend was not pleased at this clueless impulsive decision on my part... both in that I'd reneged on our agreement and also I'd been in no real condition to appreciate this damn pizza (let the record show her derision was mostly the former).

Hell, even my photo of it sucked:

The only positive thing to come out of this story, aside from my vague drunken recollection of the pizza being pretty good... was the knowledge that Piano Piano actually don't cut their pizzas for you, which six years later is still true.

Back once more into a gloomy November 2019 afternoon... sitting on a crowded rush hour Spadina streetcar, reeking of vodka seltzers, clumsily fumbling with my hands to rip apart this high quality pizza so as to just stuff a slice in my mouth before another work shift of soul-shattering awkwardness. 2019! That second half was rough, my friends. Little did I know what still lay ahead the next year.

Well... it took a little over five years but I finally came through on my deal with that same old friend. Calling it a draw would be generous to me, but nevertheless! One (very cold) Thursday afternoon when her daughter was napping, we met up and checked out the Piano Piano location on Colborne Street.

Colborne Street itself is an odd little side laneway tucked between King and Wellington that you could walk by dozens of times and so easily miss... yet has multiple well known restaurants along its short block including favored pub of the suits, P.J. O'Brien's.

My dear friend informed me, as we were about to enter, that the interior design of Piano Colborne was quite distinctive. She wasn't kidding... this was like stepping inside the board game Clue: you're in the Parlour trying to find the rope Colonel Mustard used for the murder. Frilly lamps, velvet booths, a checkered marble floor, comfortably dim lighting... it really is like walking into an upper-society murder mystery from the 1930s. And I haven't even mentioned the downstairs.

Normally I do these reviews solo (insert loneliness comment here, I've heard em all) but it is exceptionally refreshing to not just have another perspective on the food, but just another eye or ear on the entire experience... such as Piano Piano Colborne's very late-90s R&B playlist, which was seriously on point.

This place is such a clash of styles that with good tunes, friendly vibes and terrific attentive service... makes it work. But enough window dressing, here's the grub.

Piano Piano has a mighty fine lunch prix fixe option: a half portion of any appetizer, any full pizza on their menu, plus a dessert... all for 36 bucks (36 is definitely a great number, for the maybe dozen of you who get that joke).

Considering each of their pizzas are already 26 bucks... it's a swell deal. My charming accomplice ordered the burrata as her appetizer, while I went for the calamari you see above. While the deep fried squid was a half portion, I don't think that dip was. There are also some deep fried artichokes in there... I never liked artichokes but it had been over a decade since I tried one... maybe after hundreds of reviews my tastes had evolved? Took a bite... nope! Still not a fan. Blech! Artichokes stink.

The calamari itself... a very light, tempura-like breading. Minimal seasoning beyond pepper, and that's all it needs. I want more! Why are those stupid artichokes in the way? I rarely eat seafood, but I know bad calamari would likely be overly rubbery and dry. Not this. You still have that rubbery texture but there's a pleasant softness to it, a subtle juiciness that is lightly flavourful and playfully salty without being watery. The breading is quite simple, just a bit of salt and pepper for seasoning, not heavy on the bread aspect. Very delicious... I love calamari but rarely eat it because it's both expensive and just not the kind of thing you make at home very often.

As for the dip... bit of a sweet chili meets garlic mayo type of concoction. Best of both worlds. I'd buy it if it was sold in a grocery store.

This was my friend's burrata. Can't say I've encountered plump grapes with a sprinkle of parmesan on them before. Simple, elegant, looks good on the Gram (like and follow lolz) but most importantly it tastes excellent. Burrata is such a strange cheese experience: it's simultaneously cold, watery, basically an orb of solidified cheese slime... yet still a decadent treat with a texture that pairs exceptionally well with crunchy bread, or spread over a pizza. I'm curious how a simple little ball of cheese unlocks so much...

Pizza time. Welcome to my home ballpark. As I said a thousand years ago earlier in this review, my singular experience with Piano Piano's pizza was being drunk and in a rush to get back to work on a crowded streetcar at 4:30 in the afternoon (ah, memories...) Now, we can do this for real. Hey, they gave me scissors to cut the pizza properly! I ain't dropping the fly ball this time.

Despite my madness in that incomprehensible moment, I still recognized Piano Piano as a terrific pizza. Five years later with a sober mind? Honestly... nothing has really changed. This is a really freaking good pizza. I went for 'The Chatham '62' with Canadian Bacon, 'Nduja, pineapple and pickled jalapeno... whereas my excellent associate in pizza went for their mushroom pizza 'The Fun Guy'.

Now full disclosure: I don't think this is the best pizza in Toronto, as many other folks I've encountered will argue. My greatest compliment I can give this, is that: I can understand the argument even if I think there are at least half a dozen others that are at least in this elite company... and ones that I prefer over this. That aside, this pizza rocks. It is really damn good, and lets break down why and how.

The crust is quite light and airy, which again I recognize as high quality execution and texture... but not quite my favourite. Nevertheless, you can see the char bubbles and the balance between that flavour and a very subtle sourdough baked bread is endlessly enjoyable. Baked at just the right point where the char is notable but not in the spotlight.

For me, where this pizza really shines are the toppings. The Canadian Bacon is more like a diced up pork belly... layers of tender pork with a juicy slab of fattiness between, all with vivid pork and subtly salty flavour. Truly exceptional. The pickled jalapenos... there aren't many of them but they're plump and waiting like a bomb for your mouth. Take a bite of them, they explode with sneaky spice and sting... like a heat ambush waiting for unsuspecting taste buds.

Yeah there's pineapple on here and (controversy) I like pineapple on pizza! (sue me). On that front I must say: you can really tell the difference on a pizza between canned pineapple bits (swimming in sugary water) and legitimately freshly sliced pineapple from the fruit itself. None of that artificial sugar bleeds into the sauce, this pineapple is legit, semi-soft and just a side piece not the headliner. It's not much of a presence on this pizza because that's exactly how fresh pineapple is: an occasional sting of juicy sweetness and in minimal doses none of that harsh texture on your gums.

Lets go into the tomato sauce. It's... a little too much on the sweet tomato side for me. Objectively as a pizza sauce, it's truly fantastic... vivid and full of real lasting flavour... smooth and tomatoey (it's a word now damn it). Personally, I lean towards an earthier type of sauce and with the sweetness of the pineapple already baked into this... this slightly too sweet (for me) tomato sauce is this pizza's only true weakness. If you can even call it that... this sauce has a wonderful lasting flavour that only the best tomatoes (San Marzano) can provide. It's a beautiful taste but not my particular affinity towards beauty, if that makes sense.

How about the mushroom pizza? We traded slices and so this little 'Fun Guy' slice... hoo boy. Look up decadent in the dictionary, this photo should appear... assuming dictionaries even exist anymore you Zoomers. Where's a cloud I can yell at?

The Fun Guy pizza is so loaded with rich and heavy flavours, it's like being seduced by something you know is very bad for you... but you don't care because in the moment it's such a wonderful feeling. Oh whoops, that was the Star Trek fanfic I wrote, how'd that get in here? Right, anyway.

The mushrooms are quite large and plump on here, revealing a wonderful juiciness on each bite. Meanwhile the combination of cheeses... it's the kind of thing you want to eat slowly (and I'm a notoriously slow eater). Something this rich yet layered with soft texture... frankly what makes Piano Piano so good is how these tastes take their time revealing themselves. None of this is a wham-bam-thank-you-mam... there's a lot going on here and even cold these flavours hold that dynamic.

Dessert! I got their swirl soft serve (the other option was a tiramisu). Real ice cream, even in soft serve format... has such a distinctive tell to it. There's a fullness in the flavour (rather than fleeting emptiness), a flavour that slowly builds rather than being so immediate, a specific type of creaminess I can't really describe that lingers in your mouth. I'm more a vanilla guy (shut up I hear those jokes) but chocolate merged with vanilla is such a wonderful combination, no matter what Homer Simpson thinks (he's right about ditching the strawberry though).

What a treat. There's an odd slight grittiness within this ice cream I really appreciate, like you know for sure they've made this in house (or have imported it from somewhere closeby). Cheap ice cream gives you that initial creamy sweet rush you're looking for, but fades within seconds. This here... marvelous in how it shakes your hand rather than shake your shoulders. Incredible! I loved it. An exceptionally nice end to a terrific meal.

Overall! Look, Piano Piano and it's off-shoots are considered among the best restaurants in the entire city, and who am I to disagree? I'd disagree if I legitimately disagreed, but I disagree with even that attempt at a disagreeable digression.

Enough silliness. Yes! Piano Piano is really damn good, and I recommend checking them out at whatever location is closest to you. I haven't even mentioned their menus yet... they're like something you'd see in the 1930's brandished by a child on the street shouting "extra! extra! Read all about it!" Such a strange but enchanting vibe in this place... (also a shoutout to our server who was incredibly sweet and on the ball).

Piano Piano makes very very good pizza... but the time has come to explain why I'm giving them a grade a tiny bit below the true elite pizza I've had. To put it simply... I wasn't completely blown away 100 percent. More like 90 percent. There was never a "holy cow wow" moment in here, rather this was a slow methodical breakdown of the precise elements that make a pizza exceptional. It's almost like an academic approach to pizza and hey at this point I'm a valedictorian within this... Piano Piano really nail the basics and the details, but it's just a little bit short of the goalpost.

As far as excitement? I'd happily try Piano Piano again but there are a few places ahead of them I'd be more eager to revisit. But not many: seriously this is real damn good. Both pizzas (the mushroom and mine) were marvelous in their own ways, and Piano Piano deserves a solid 'A-' grade from me. Good enough for the Top 15, probably higher. I strongly recommend that lunch special as well.

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Mr. Baseball

David Lynch

Man. I don't even know where to begin with this one, and maybe I shouldn't even try to. The works of this fella transcend time, ponder the nature of what is art, disrupt the concept of any common narrative... all while winking at you behind the emotionless void. What a unique cat, endlessly charming and insightful towards the process of finding creative ideas... whether you adore his work or find it 'weird for the sake of weird' it is undeniable he was one of a kind. A true artist happy to share his secrets, but never gladly willing to compromise his vision. Nobody like him.

How about some funny and insightful Lynch interviews or cameos? Here are three.

His story about potentially directing Return of The Jedi is a good one: