49 Below Ice Cream

A women-run Fort Street bakery of French pastries and tarts, where the last croissant always causes a diplomatic incident.

A tiny chandelier-lit Fisgard Street patisserie of glossy macarons and cream-filled Paris-Brest that sells out before you have decided.

Tiramisu gelato and espresso in a century-old farmhouse, far enough out of town to make a cone feel like an afternoon.

Tiered scones, clotted cream, lavender-kissed preserves and 21 loose-leaf teas under the Empress chandeliers: pinkie-out grandeur, done properly.

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

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

Downtown Victoria's 4.8-rated Korean fried chicken spot, where the cheese-pull corn dogs are both a snack and a mild competitive event.

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.

Brad Holmes rewrites the menu weekly in a tiny, loud Chinatown room, so come curious and ready to share everything.

A deaf owned cafe on the West Bay Marina boardwalk, serving waffles, smoked salmon toast and an ocean view from 7am.

An 1889 heritage house in James Bay where the cooking is vegetable forward, the light is good and nothing is in a hurry.

Walk-in BC oysters shucked to order on Blanshard Street, with all-day Sunday happy hour and a 4.8 you can actually trust.

Sidney's teal boothed diner on Beacon Avenue, turning out stuffed Belgian waffles and five different hashes three blocks from the sea.

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.