Restaurant Review: Conejo Negro – A Bold Tribute to Creole, Caribbean, and Latin Cuisine

At Conejo Negro, which translates to “black rabbit” in English, the interplay of flickering candlelight against wood-paneled walls creates an ambiance that is both intimate and transportive. It strikes that elusive balance—sophisticated but never pretentious, welcoming yet undeniably refined. You are here to eat, yes, but also to linger, to melt into the atmosphere where warmth radiates not just from the kitchen, but from the people who run it.

The restaurant is the brainchild of Lamine Martindale, Alycia Wahn, and Diego Diaz—a trio whose shared vision seamlessly weaves Creole, Caribbean, and Latin American influences into every dish and cocktail. Wahn helms the kitchen, and the menu reads less like a static list and more like a love letter to the vibrant flavours that inspire them, each plate a testament to their culinary reverence.

Our server for the evening was none other than co-owner Martindale himself, though this revelation came not by grand introduction but in the way he spoke of the food—with an ease, an authority, an almost paternal pride. It lent the experience a rare authenticity, making us feel less like guests in a restaurant and more like friends welcomed into a chef’s personal domain.

After some cocktails, the meal started with Brazilian cheese puffs—golden, burnished orbs of tapioca and aged cheddar that yielded to a molten, nutty interior. The accompanying garlic butter melted on top sent them into decadence, each bite a fleeting indulgence that disappeared far too quickly. Some dishes impress with complexity; others, like these, seduce with simplicity and precision.

The tuna and shrimp ceviche arrived glistening under a delicate veil of chili oil, its bright citrus base coaxing sweetness from mango while avocado lent a silken contrast. It was competent, certainly, but the true intrigue lay in the slow-building heat of the chili oil, each bite deepening the warmth in a way that lingered long after the plate was cleared.

The firecracker shrimp followed—crisp, golden, and still whispering of the fryer’s embrace. The batter, just shy of tempura-light, was an ideal vehicle for the sauce: fiery but restrained, its heat tempered by an underlying sweetness that kept it from overwhelming. It was familiar, perhaps, but executed with a confidence that made reinvention unnecessary.

Then came an unexpected revelation: grilled pineapple and beet. What read on the menu as an afterthought unfolded on the plate as a study in contrast—the caramelized sugars of the pineapple playing against the deep earthiness of beets, the bitter edge of radicchio softened by creamy goat cheese, the crunch of pistachios lending texture. A sorrel vinaigrette tied it all together in a way that whispered rather than shouted, its restraint a quiet stroke of genius. This is the kind of dish one remembers—and returns for.

The Caribbean-style braised beef arrived next, surrendering to the lightest pressure of a fork. A lively pepper sauce cut through the dish’s richness with knife-like precision, finding harmony with the smoky cheddar grits that pooled beneath. Collard greens, perfectly wilted and just bitter enough, completed the plate with a knowing nod to tradition. It was soulful, patient cooking—comfort food elevated without losing its roots.

Even the humbler offerings held their ground. Grilled okra, a vegetable so often mishandled, bore the deep char of expert restraint. Its natural texture, too frequently its downfall, was tamed by the heat, with a garlic-lime crema providing a gentle counterpoint while chili oil added the final flourish. Those wary of okra’s infamous tendencies might just find themselves converted. I certainly was!

Dessert brought a tres leches cake crafted by Wahn, its sponge thoroughly saturated yet miraculously avoiding the common pitfall of sogginess. A ribbon of dulce de leche and the toasty embrace of coconut tempered the sweetness, delivering a final note that was as indulgent as it was precise.

Conejo Negro carries an air of effortlessness that belies the careful orchestration at play. Service is attentive without feeling intrusive, flavours are bold yet refined, and the atmosphere hums with an energy that is electric but never overwhelming. If there are quibbles—a ceviche that could push its boundaries further, for example—they are minor in the grander scheme of a meal so thoughtfully composed.

Toronto is not short on excellent dining options, yet Conejo Negro earns its place among them. This is the kind of restaurant where one visit only teases at its full potential, leaving a return less of a possibility and more of an inevitability.

Bisous,

Mme M. xoxo

4/5 étoiles

La rubrique de Madame Marie

1 étoile – Run. Before you get the runs.
2 étoiles – Mediocre, but nothing you couldn’t make at home.
3 étoiles – C’est bon, with some standout qualities.
4 étoiles – Many memorable qualities and excellent execution. Compliments to the chef.
5 étoiles – Formidable! Michelin Star quality. Book a reservation immediately.