A Daytime Injera Date at Messob

Victoria's long-running Ethiopian-Eritrean room, where dinner is one shared platter by hand and the closing act is a from-scratch coffee ceremony.

A mountain of fluffy snow-ice in Saanich built for two spoons, one disagreement about toppings and a lot of awkward photo attempts.

Quadra Street Afghan-Persian home cooking: mantu dumplings, qabuli palaw and hospitality so warm that ordering too much is practically required.

A 50-seat Fernwood wine bar in a charmingly creaky heritage building, built for daily-changing small plates and old-world wine.

A 112-year-old James Bay house, a Genova-born owner cooking your pasta personally, and herbs from the garden out back.

Fort Street's oven-roasted Korean chicken spot where the lighter, juicier alternative to deep-fry has a near-perfect 4.7 to back it up.

Cook Street Village's 4.6-rated cult chicken joint: double-fried, shatteringly crispy, and almost impossible to leave without a Megan croffle.

Victoria's neon-lit Korean pocha pub, where you pile the table with tteokbokki and pour each other rounds of soju all night.

Family-run Thai on Fort Street's antique row, where Mama and Papa Sookjai make the green curry Victorians won't stop raving about.

Downtown Victoria's 4.6-rated Korean grillhouse where you cook for each other and emerge smelling faintly of garlic-soy triumph.

Steak frites and French red by candlelight in a Chinatown schoolhouse that doesn't take reservations for two, so arrive early.

Chinatown tortilleria where heirloom corn gets nixtamalized overnight and pressed into tacos that embarrass every other taco in Victoria.

Fort Street Korean tapas and cocktails: low-lit, late-running, and serving a 'Squid Game' gochujang dish with the world's most appropriate name.

Handmade roti, all-day curry, scotch bonnet heat: the buss-up-shut that tells you everything about who you're with.