And Banh Mi on Elm near Yonge - A Banh Mi Temple That Smells of Butter

Right from the moment you walk in, you know you're in a place of worship. This is a bánh mì temple, and it smells of butter. The theme here is balance, and it's everywhere you look — from the art on the wall (a coffee mug balanced on a stack of stools, a tray of buns balanced on someone's knee) to the delicate aluminum tables cleverly mounted on the sides of the benches. Everything reminds you that balance is the whole philosophy of the place. Just like the bánh mì itself, which is nothing if not an exercise in balance: not too much, not too little, everything just right.

And Banh Mi is a foodie's version of bánh mì. A glass wall looks straight into the kitchen, so you can watch every step of the preparation. There's a loooong wait — partly the big lunchtime and takeaway crowd, partly because they make each sandwich slowly, as they should. But the vibe is good, the music is nice, and the smell of butter keeps everyone calm.

When the sandwich comes out it's warm and smells like toasted brioche. I went with my friend Yohann, who is certifiably French and gave the baguette his seal of approval: flaky and crusty on the outside, soft and light on the inside, with just a little chew.

The sandwich is assembled by pros. The first bite isn't bready — the proportions are just right. Balance, there's that word again. We dug into the braised pork belly first. The slow-cooked meat dissolves in your mouth with just the right amount of texture and fat. The pickled carrots are a touch sweeter than I like, but they bring the brightness that balances the umami of the pork. There's no pâté here, but the pork is fatty enough to carry it on its own.

The second sandwich, the lemongrass chicken, is equally professional but not quite as delightful. The chicken is plenty flavourful and moist, but there were no other notes to make it interesting — no chili peppers, no pâté, not much sauce. Competent, but quiet.

So while I was ready to crown this place Better Than Bloor after the first sandwich, I have to claw that back after the second. Call it about as good as Bloor — which, around here, is still pretty high praise.

Verdict: Cruising.