Restaurant Review: Honest Weight – A Taste of the Coast in Toronto’s Junction

You don’t so much book a table at Honest Weight as you wander into it. Tucked in the Junction, it still looks and feels like the fish shop it once was, except the counters have given way to small tables and the chalkboard now lists what’s cooking tonight. There’s nothing slick about it, no marble tabletops or velvet banquettes. Instead, Honest Weight disarms you with something much rarer in Toronto dining: warmth. The kind of warmth that feels like stepping into a friend’s East Coast home—where the fish is fresh, the welcome genuine, and you’re looked after in a way that feels instinctive.

The story of Honest Weight begins with the late John Bil, a national oyster-shucking champion and one of Canada’s most respected seafood experts. After years of working with oysters on the east coast and helping launch some of the country’s most renowned restaurants, he opened Honest Weight in 2015 with the goal of creating a place that celebrated fish in its purest form. His vision was to offer Torontonians the kind of seafood experience usually reserved for coastal towns—fresh, unpretentious, and handled with reverence. Today, co-owner Victoria Bazan continues to uphold that ethos, ensuring that the restaurant remains true to Bil’s spirit: a neighbourhood fish shop that evolved into one of Toronto’s most quietly beloved seafood destinations.

Its reputation has grown almost cultish: the kind of spot where patrons chat with staff about what’s new from the docks, where regulars return for both the consistency and the thrill of the unknown, and where newcomers are often startled by how food this straightforward can rival the city’s fanciest kitchens. That no-nonsense authenticity remains Honest Weight’s ethos.

And, the sense of charm extends beyond the meal itself. In a city where everything is booked with a few taps, Honest Weight still insists you phone or email to reserve. It’s old-school, a little inconvenient perhaps, but it sets the tone: this is a place running at its own rhythm, and you’re better for stepping into it.

The people carry that same spirit. Our server, Olivia, struck that perfect balance of friendly and professional—quick with suggestions, genuinely curious about our experience, yet never hovering. She reappeared at exactly the right moments, the way a good host seems to know when your glass is nearly empty. It’s a kind of hospitality that has become increasingly rare in Toronto, and one that makes a meal here feel personal.

The menu is deceptively simple. Crab cakes arrive first, their golden crust barely containing a tumble of sweet meat. They’re tender enough to fall apart under the fork, yet structured just enough to remind you that someone in the kitchen knows exactly what they’re doing. A squeeze of lemon and you’re transported straight to a dockside patio, even if the closest body of water here is the Humber River.

Next, the crispy chili shrimp—so crisp they practically shatter, with a chili kick that’s assertive without being brash. It’s a dish designed for eating with your fingers, licking a little heat from your thumb before reaching for the next one.

The main act, though, is the “Pick Yer Fish” program, which on this visit meant a glistening B.C. rockfish. Grilled just until the skin gave a satisfying crackle, the fish was plated with smashed potatoes, blanched kale, and a Dijon vinaigrette sharp enough to cut through the richness but restrained enough not to boss the fish around. It’s food that respects its main character, allowing the fish to stay firmly in the spotlight.

And then comes the Dishonest Burger. Two smashed patties lacquered in American cheese and burger sauce, stacked high beside a basket of waffle fries. It’s the sort of dish that makes you laugh as you order it—what’s a fish house doing serving a burger this indulgent?—and laugh again as you polish it off, because it’s just that good.

The wine list keeps pace with the food: mostly French and Spanish bottles, with a little bubbly tucked in for good measure, and a roster of Ontario beers for those inclined toward hops. Nothing overwhelming, nothing showy, but each choice felt intentional, like it had earned its spot on the list.

If there’s a fault here, it’s architectural rather than culinary. The long, narrow two-tops that stretch out like railway ties, putting you at such a distance from your dining partner you might as well be sending smoke signals. It’s an odd design choice for a restaurant otherwise so attuned to intimacy.

Honest Weight is a reminder that sometimes the most memorable meals come not from spectacle but from honesty: fresh fish, prepared with care, served with warmth, and anchored in a neighbourhood that feels all the richer for it.

Bisous,

Mme. M.

4/5

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.