Located in the heart of downtown Toronto, the atmosphere at the Osteria is at once intimate and sociable, a dinner party where all guests share the same table and the same food. Entry through the artisanal storefront announces to the visitor that they are in for a treat in old-world hospitality.

Once inside however, it is apparent that the rustic has been made modern: surfaces of reclaimed woods and stripped boards are routered with ‘machined’ precision, inlayed with crisp steel and punctuated with powder-coated industrial components.

The focal point of the interior is the long, central communal table, where 20 can indulge in common amusement and interaction between strangers, as well as between host and guest is encouraged. There is an intentional blurring between thresholds of production and presentation, service and served, the individual and the collective.

With a slight adjustment of its spring-loaded lamp, the flower-covered pasta making butcher block by day becomes the 8‑person family dining table by night, still carved with the secret recipe of Ciceri e Tria, the dish for which the Osteria was named.

The limited menu changes daily, depending on the season, the market and the mood of the chef. The quality however is always guaranteed, as is loyalty to the ‘hand- made.’ Like its food, the architecture of Osteria Ciceri e Tria experiments with registering ‘the hand’ that has fashioned it with an embedded rather than superficial layer of decorative and coded elements – such as family snap-shots, family names, clips of proud manifestos and doily patterns cured into the concrete. All elements of the design have been custom made, with the exception of the chairs, stools and yellow, industrial lights.