The team that designed Bar Isabel has made such a sweet resto. The look is maritime without kitsch, nary a lobster pot or fishnet in sight, but we know they refer gently to the seaside with the arched white wooden walls and ceiling and multiplicity of porthole-like round lights peppering the ceiling. These were salvaged from the old and regrettable Captain John’s ship resto that was moored for 40 years at the foot of Yonge Street.

I’m pretty sure they look better in their new home.

We quite like the servers too: They are both knowledgeable and cool, minus that nasty we’re cooler than you attitude that sometimes afflicts downtown west servers when dealing with those of, shall we say, mature years. 

We love the swordfish crudo, perfectly fresh flesh dressed with shiso leaf for fragrance, Trinidad peppers for heat, pickled sea asparagus for sour, soy for umami and a crown of crispy chicken skin for sexy. And the Cape Breton sweet baby shrimp served on sourdough with anchovy brown butter sauce. And the duck confit with just enough Kewpie mayo for happy sin, chilies, scallions, toasted peanuts and mint, and served on a gossamer crispy coconut cream crepe made of tapioca starch and rice flour. For $12!

Sometimes there’s a divinely creamy black risotto of squid ink built on braised cured meat with chopped calamari. For $13!

For dessert we get very busy inhaling pumpkin pudding served in an antique teacup, topped with brûléed meringue. And a delightful tart of caramelized apple with almond crumble atop crème anglaise, in the tenderest crust I’ve met in months. Maybe years.

This is a small and out-of-the-way but serious restaurant. You can feel and taste that they want very badly to excel. 

Their utter absence of pretension or that too-cool-for-school attitude combined with their wonderful kitchen are precisely the reasons why you’re going to have a hard time getting a table. 

We are deeply grateful that they take reservations. You gotta be, nowadays.

The Commodore, 1265 Queen St. W., 416-537-1265