Only The Cheesiest Desserts Need Apply

Several months ago (during an email exchange of potential story ideas), our exacting editrix Sheryl defied us Taste T.O. writers to find her better cannoli than those being made at Cafe Dip (594 College Street), presumably because she considered them to be cannoli par excellence.

I sampled cannolo (singular of cannoli) at The Dip when I reviewed it in September, and while indubitably a treat, I was sure that someone else, somewhere in Toronto, must make cannoli that were just as good, if not better.

With that goal in mind, I began my “eating cannoli for a living isn’t as fun as I thought” city trek. I decided each had to be found and produced in Toronto. That stipulation immediately struck out one of the most promising locations, a butcher shop called Royal Beef (1968 Danforth Avenue) because they bring them in once a week from Woodbridge.

Residing in Little Italy, I was positive that there had to be many credible options nearby, so on a brisk Saturday afternoon, I began trawling my ‘hood for the ubiquitous deep fried shells stuffed with sweetened ricotta.

At Sicilian Sidewalk Cafe (712 College Street) on the border of Little Italy, my visit was palpably uncomfortable, as patrons gazed like I was some sort of curiosity, though in reality it was probably just because I’m not a regular. The 5" x 2" treat ($2) was worthwhile, pairing a thick, cinnamon laced, crumbly cookie-like exterior with a slightly dense sweetened filling too sparingly flecked with chocolate chips.

Across the street at Dolce Gelato (697 College Street) the cannoli ($2.50) were offered in both chocolate and plain cream, but at 4" x 1.25" were the smallest of the bunch. Had it been satisfying, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at the cost/size, but in this regard Dolce Gelato should just stick to their namesake. The shell was soft, stale tasting and drizzled with sticky chocolate sauce, while the cream had a gummy crust, milk chocolate chips and a chemical aftertaste.

Several doors down at Golden Wheat Bakery (652 College Street) the massive 6" x 2.5" tapered pastry they were trying to pass off as a cannolo was anything but. Comprised of flaky, croissant-like pastry and a filling more custard than sweet ricotta, this dessert was closer in shape and texture to a cream horn. And like Dolce Gelato’s before it, Golden Wheat’s also came with a funky aftertaste emanating from the gloppy, golden centre.

At Cafe Dip, the seemingly standard sized 5" x 1.5” nibble ($2.95) was exactly as I remembered it. Its shell was also cracklingly crisp and redolent of cinnamon, with a smooth as butter filling amply flecked with dark chocolate chips. Of the ones I’d sampled thus far, it was my favourite, but I was still convinced that other drool-worthy examples existed elsewhere.

Riviera Bakery (576 College Street) was the first to truly give The Dip a run for their money. The crunchy 5" x 1.5” confection shattered delicately, exhibiting both a chocolate chip festooned filling, but also small bits of succade (a candied fruit medley) hidden within the interior. The creamy cheese was almost imperceptibly granular, and would be a perfect meld of textures if I truly enjoyed candied fruit.

Uptown on the Corso Italia, Tre Mari Bakery (1311 St. Clair Avenue West) sold the booziest cannolo ($2.05) by far, both smelling and tasting heavily of alcohol. The 5" x 1.5” tube was thick and more than a little dry, but after a few bites of the fluffy, saccharine, spirit-soaked cheese, who cares?

Though out of the way, Commisso Bros. & Racco Italian Bakery (8 Kincort Street) has always been my personal choice when lusting after cannoli. They come in various permutations, including traditional, chocolate, mini and more. Due to what I must assume was the language barrier, the cannolo I requested on my most recent visit was not the one I left with. Of course, this was not discovered until after I’d already gotten in the car and driven away. Still, the 3" x 1” mini I got ($1.25) was crisply shelled, if a bit thick, heady with cinnamon and sweet, creamy cheese, but surprisingly devoid of chocolate chips. Out of curiosity I also purchased a chocolate version, which was the desired size, but I would suggest avoiding it at all costs. The filling was both starchy and gummy, like day old cooked pudding.

Having heard numerous things about Caldense Bakery (802 Dundas Street West, and others), I attempted many times over the course of 3 weeks to procure their wares. Unfortunately, every visit was met with the request to return in a few hours, at which point when I did, I was informed they were all gone. I started to think Caldense was some sort of cannoli Polkaroo, but plenty of people on the internet have raved about them, so surely they had to exist. After weeks of dejected visits, I finally laid hands on one ($2.45). Sized like the majority of the others, its 5" x 1.5” shell was a contradiction in terms, being both soft and crunchy. The creamy middle was pleasantly thick, and richly sweetened and while lacking in chocolate chips, the light drizzle of hardened chocolate sauce complemented the dessert wonderfully. After devouring half of it, I can certainly understand what all the fuss is about - and why I had such a hard time getting my hands on one!

After several weeks of eating more deep fried dough and sweetened cheese than I’ve probably eaten in my life combined, I’ve drawn a few conclusions. I cannot say with certainty who makes the best, but I do know who I’d avoid in the future. If anything, it seems the perfect hybrid lies between Commisso’s cinnamon-heavy pastry stuffed with Cafe Diplomatico’s creamy chocolate chip centre or Caldense’s rich and sweet one. If such a cannolo existed, surely I would be in heaven. In the meantime though, I suppose we’ll have to make due with the ones sold at The Dip, Riviera and Caldense Bakeries. Even taking into account their respective slights, they still make some damn fine cannolis.

Porsha Perreault is a freelance writer, voracious eater, amateur charcutier, and chocolate enthusiast living in Little Italy. Now that the farmer’s market season is winding down, she can often be found at home preserving the harvest and experimenting with cured meats, or blogging about her obsession with food at Foodie and the Everyman.