So empanadas eh? I can eat a couple. Especially if they're from Jumbo Empanadas in Kensington market.

Unlike the picture above, this particular frigid afternoon it's hard to tell whether the steam on the windows is from the steady stream of hungry mensches waiting to be served or the steady turnover (heh, see what I just did there) of warm pockets arriving fresh from the oven. One thing's for sure: the winter's absence of patio space makes it impossible to get a table in this humble eatery. Good thing this is street food, jackson. And despite how packed it gets with a loose queue threatening to riot at any moment, they never manage to test the patience of the staff who always serves with a wry, flirty smile. And could there be a better way to keep your hands warm on a cold January day? Okay, don't answer that...

Check out the full Jumbo Empanadas review in our Restaurants section.

It only takes one of our city's flop-sweating, smog alerting summer dog days to remind me what an amazing meal pho really is since it's probably one of the last things I want to eat on a afternoon when Toronto's channeling Ho Chi Minh's spirit. Despite it's improbable origins I'm eternally grateful for that meal-in-a-bowl from the tropics, cos really, what goes better with blizzard than this week's best bowl of beefy, noodle-y, soupy Vietnamese goodness?

And how better to forget about the weather than by tucking into a steaming bowl of soup at Que Ling; a setting that feels as real-deal (minus the snow, natch) as any mom-and-pop Saigon soup shack. As long as it's open that is, which is never a sure thing.

Read the full review of Que Ling in our Restaurants section.

Toronto's been burbling with digital chatter lately on just who serves the city's ace burger. There are more opinions on the T.O.'s fave sandwich stalwart than there are obscure pop culture references in a Ryan Couldrey post. And heck, to their credit, you couldn't swing a coyote lately without hitting a new burger joint opening up to near-messianic expectation ready to feed Toronto's nearly insatiable craving for grill-kissed ground beef. Sure, We all think we know the contenders (and the pretenders), but before you post that 'best-of-2007' list, have a look westward cos what you'll find there might just surprise you.

Nestled on a generic stretch of the Queensway tucked in-between strip malls, big box super-gargantuan-mega complexes and the odd purveyor of modular furniture of Scandinavian design hides the ACME Burger Company. The dining equivalent of a borg drone separated from it's cube, it's truly a restaurant in search of a franchise.

Read the full review of The ACME Burger Company in our Restaurants section.

Ideally, my coffee would be dark and complex, roasted to perfect Viennese brown; the liquid spirit of a shady East african hill top with a warm, smoky aroma as big as a room--a brew that could temper even the most savage morning and make things a little more bearable.

So any Saturday I can, I'll skip my local mug-slingers and head down to Kensington for a cup of pre-grocery shopping joe at I deal Coffee. More addictive than a game of facebook scrabble, the heady scent of beans freshly roasted to perfect, rich mahogany wafts through the eclectic, shabby-chic digs of I Deal's Kensington Market location.

Read the full review of I Deal Coffee in our Cafes section.

There's a particularly stubborn old Zen koan in which a young pupil asks his master whether a dog can indeed posses Buddha-nature. The master (in typical zen obliquity) implies that the question itself must be unasked for any wisdom to be attained.

This pseudo-mystic morsel offers a useful bit of question begging distraction while awaiting your order from the grill of this pleasantly Scandinavian-decorated Roncesvalles satellite of the much loved Picton wiener shop.

So then, just what is the nature of a Buddha Dog?

Read the full review of Buddha Dog in the Restaurants section.

Image: Spiced Tiger Shrimp on Endive Salad

Some do indeed like it hot. Not that there's much choice lately as most Torontonians find themselves crammed sweatily ass-to-elbow into these dog days like passengers on an un-air conned rush hour bus. Luckily, along for the ride is some sweet relief as our city's suddenly lousy with open air food festivals appearing like so many beads of sweat on an ice cold glass.

For those (like me) that grew up along the Greek stretch of Danforth and keen to avoid the char-broiled, flaming cheese anarchy of that 'other' food festival this weekend and looking for something with a little more bite, the past week's temperatures are like John the Baptist: promising something even hotter to follow, namely: Harbourfront's annual, capsaicin orgy better known as The Hot & Spicy Food Festival.