Restaurant Review: Nobu Toronto – A Place to Be Seen, But Is That All?

RestaurantNobu Toronto
Address25 Mercer Street
CityToronto
Websitenoburestaurants.com/toronto/nobu-toronto
Instagram@nobutoronto
Phone(365) 922-8800
Dinner for four with wine:$1,200

At Nobu Toronto, the spectacle begins long before the first bite. The restaurant, an extension of the global Nobu empire, is nestled within the shimmering confines of the Nobu Hotel on Mercer Street. It is a space designed for theatre, for whispers of opulence, for the kind of crowd that relishes the knowing glance of a fellow diner as much as the food itself. The room is a lesson in high-end minimalism—polished wood, brooding black marble, and a staircase dramatic enough to serve as a stage. Diners ascend, expectation mounting, only to find that the main act—what should be an impeccable meal—is little more than an expensive illusion.

The menu, of course, reads as an ode to decadence. Tomato Ceviche ($24) arrived first, its intent clear: light, bright, a gentle opening note. And yet, what should have been an exercise in vibrancy was muted, a dish seemingly afraid to assert itself. Ripe, fresh tomatoes were present, but the promised acidity, the hit of something sharp to set them alight, never materialized. Instead, there was a vague sense of something missing, a quiet dish that never found its voice.

Toro Tartare with Caviar ($68) was next, a small, meticulously arranged plate that played beautifully to the camera but less so to the palate. The toro was undeniably fresh, but the caviar—a garnish in all but name—added little more than the implication of luxury. The sum was less than its very expensive parts. It was the kind of dish that inspires reflection, not of its flavours, but of whether one has just made a very poor financial decision.

The theme of disappointment continued. Vegetables Spicy Garlic ($32) should have been a study in balance, a whisper of heat against the natural sweetness of market-fresh produce. Instead, it was a dish drowning—no, suffocating—under the weight of its garlic sauce. Meanwhile, the Crispy Rice with Avocado ($28) arrived looking playful, skewered and neat, but its substance was absent. A clever presentation does not compensate for the lack of cohesion between flavours, nor does it justify a portion size that leaves diners wondering if perhaps the rest of the dish was lost en route.

Even the Rock Shrimp Tempura ($40), a Nobu signature, failed to truly excite. The shrimp were impeccably fried, the creamy spicy sauce and ponzu offering a competent contrast, but at that price point, the expectations were higher than “competent.” The dish, while enjoyable, had the aura of something that had long outlived its initial thrill—a greatest hit played too many times without reinvention.

There were brief glimmers of excellence. The Grilled Sea Bass with Yuzu Kosho ($56) was a rare triumph, a dish that reminded us what Nobu, at its best, can be. The sea bass was luscious, each bite melting with an exquisite richness, the yuzu kosho lending just enough restraint to keep it from slipping into excess. It was a dish that lingered in the mind, a welcome reprieve from the otherwise uninspired fare.

When hunger persisted, our server suggested sushi. The Yellowtail & Jalapeño Maki ($23) and Baked King Crab Maki ($36) arrived, promising elegance but delivering something far less compelling. The yellowtail was fresh but subdued, its jalapeño counterpart more of a whisper than a statement. The King Crab Maki was well-constructed but ultimately forgettable, another roll in a city saturated with better ones. They were adequate, but Nobu does not trade on adequacy.

If there was a saving grace, it arrived at the end. The Buttermilk Donuts ($22) were easily the highlight of the evening—light, ethereal, kissed with just the right amount of sweetness. They were warm, yielding, the kind of dessert that silences conversation for just a moment as everyone at the table nods in quiet appreciation. The Passion Fruit Baked Alaska ($26) tried for the same effect but fell short, its flavours lacking the intensity needed to leave a lasting impression.

The restaurant boasts an extensive wine and beverage list, featuring an array of high-end sake, Japanese whiskey, and curated wines from around the world. Our party of four shared two bottles of wine, a choice that enhanced the experience, though the offerings on the list often felt priced more for prestige than for pairing.

Service, though polished, was unremarkable. The staff moved efficiently but mechanically, the experience transactional rather than engaging. For a restaurant of this stature, one expects servers who guide, who elevate, who carry diners through the meal with expertise and enthusiasm. Instead, there was detachment, an indifference that made one thing clear: Nobu Toronto is not interested in creating an unforgettable dining experience. It is interested in sustaining the illusion of one.

In the end, Nobu Toronto delivers exactly what one might expect of a brand that trades on reputation rather than substance. The space is striking. The clientele, well-heeled and eager to document the evening. But the food? It is fine, occasionally very good, but rarely great. More than anything, it is expensive—often unjustifiably so. For those looking to see and be seen, Nobu will deliver. But for those seeking a truly remarkable meal, Toronto offers better. And often, for much less.

Bisous,

Mme M. xoxo

3/5 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.