Victoria Tea Festival Revival

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.

A tiny Cadboro Bay shop churning small-batch scoops like Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb, two blocks up from Willows Beach.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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