blogTO
I eat at restaurants in and around Toronto for a living, and I've had a lot of good food within city limits in my time. In all of 2026 so far, however, the best thing I've eaten wasn't in Toronto: it was in St. Catharines. On Tuesday, March 24, 2026, journalists, influencers, media professionals, wine makers, chefs, restaurateurs and publicists from across Ontario congregated at Helliwell Hall on St. Catharines' St. Paul Street. The mission was simple: to put a spotlight on the impressive food and beverage culture of St. Catharines and the Niagara Benchlands. Restaurants, bars and wineries from the area set up shop, offering up small bites and sips of their best creations: cocktails served inside popcorn containers from Pharmacii , peachy scallop crudo from oddBird served in the shell, wild wines from the boundary-busting Maenad Wine Co . Later, we sat down for a three-course lunch with pairings from local wineries. It started with tallow-fried shrimp toast with bright clam and octopus escabeche from The Good Earth Food & Wine Co . and ended with a lollipop duck leg on beet and citrus puree with mustard and herb spatzle from Bolete's Andrew McLeod. Where's the beef? It was the second course, though, that finally managed to change my perspective on the Niagara food scene for good: a simple beef tartare, presented by chef and co-owner of Fat Rabbit , Zach Smith. Beef tartare is, Smith says, something that his diners at the St. Catharines whole animal butchery and restaurant won't let him take off the menu. After eating it, I understand why. It's rustic in its presentation, served on a thick (albeit nearly impossible to cut or bite or sever in any edible way) slab of sourdough from fellow Niagara legend RPM Bakehouse, made of Ontario beef and topped with a generous helping of smoked beef pancetta. The tartare itself is bright and creamy, helped along by a drizzle from a lemon wedge that serves as one of only two minimal garnishes on the plate, while the rich, smoky pancetta reminds you that you're eating MEAT, and you shouldn't shy away from it. Smith himself is a Toronto export, having cooked for many years under and alongside Grant van Gameren (Bar Raval, Martine's Wine Bar) at some of the city's best restaurants before he and his wife set their sights on St. Catharines, where she had grown up. It wasn't necessarily the dream, he says, but given Toronto's high rents and general cost of living, plus the fact that he has his family's mouths to feed alongside those of his diners, St. Catharines it was. Turns out, it was possibly the best thing that could have happened. Fat Rabbit was among the first restaurants outside of Toronto to land on the region's Michelin Guide, alongside fellow Niagara legend Restaurant Pearl Morissette , the most-awarded restaurant in Ontario, and Trius Winery & Restaurant . Last year, Smith co-founded his follow-up effort, Bar Les Incompetents , also in St. Catharines, which has become an equally-renowned hit in town. He's still connected to Toronto, tapped to revamp the menu at Bar Raval, but, when asked if he'd ever open a concept in the city, he shrugs. "I don't know," he tells me, "things are pretty good here." Back to the beef The best thing about owning and operating restaurants in Niagara, Smith tells me, is the community, and it's a sentiment I hear echoed time and time again by his colleagues. The restaurateurs, wine makers, bakers, business owners and bar tenders of the region seem united by some universal current that binds them together, moves them all forward as a united front. Restaurants aren't in competition with each other, because the more great restaurants open in the same few blocks, the more reason visitors have to extend their stay just to hit them all. Local wineries are galvanized by a shared desire to continue pushing the boundaries of what's possible for winemaking in the area, thus raising the stock of what has largely been an unfairly maligned region. What I loved so much about Smith's beef tartare was, aside from the fact that it was eye-wateringly delicious, that it felt like an analogy for what sets Niagara's culinary scene apart from anywhere else. It was earnest, designed to let simple flavours sing, and the flavours in question all came from local sources. The bread is from a bakery connected to another restaurant. It was paired with a Cabernet Franc from Mason Vineyard, a winery in the Twenty Mile Bench VQA. Next stop: Niagara Don't get me wrong, there's a lot — a lot — to love about Toronto's food scene. If you value endless variety and never-ending newness, Toronto is the place for you. As the capital of the province, Toronto's food scene will likely always offer more than its more populous neighbours, but Niagara's scene offers something entirely different that's no less valuable. Niagara's best restaurants and bars each have their own distinct character, philosophy and menu, but they're united by the shared desire to see their local culinary scene prosper. Local wineries populate restaurant wine lists, while local chefs source their ingredients from farms down the road. It's a singular, sustaining industry which, no matter how hyper-locally Toronto restaurants aim to source their ingredients, beats out the big city any day. There's good reason for both culinary spheres to flourish — and I suspect the players in both arenas would like very much to see that happen — but there's something special cooking up in Niagara that more than justifies the gas money.
Go to News Site