Pasta Performance: Occhiolino

Occhiolino means ‘wink’ in Italian, but there’s nothing coy about this new resto tucked down an alley behind the intersection of Bathurst and College Streets, not far from the gentrified Little Italy nabe. It’s the latest project from chefs Luke Donato and Nick Manzone (of Campagnolo and Bacchanal fame), two guys who know their way around a bowl of pasta. In the vein of what this Toronto neighbourhood used to be like, it’s got the soul of a working-class joint with the technique of an old-school Italian kitchen. Expect handmade pasta, big flavours, and no unnecessary fuss.

Manzone cooks with the ‘Cucina Povera’ mindset: Italian peasant food at its best. Nothing fancy, nothing wasted. Just a handful of great ingredients, treated with respect. The kind of food that doesn’t need a sales pitch because the first bite tells you everything you need to know. The space? It’s got the same stripped-down honesty as the food. Before it was a restaurant, this was a mechanic’s shop—grease, grit, and hard work lived here. Instead of gutting that history, architect Guido Costantino embraced it. The place still has that tough, unpolished charm. They didn’t try to pretty it up with marble and chandeliers; they let the bones of the building speak. A brick curtain wall stands out front—kind of a nod to Bologna, the pasta capital of Italy, but also a playful take on the restaurant’s name. A wink, if you will.

Inside, it’s all about contrast. Concrete bricks flow through the space, pulling double duty as walls, benches, and bars. The lighting is simple—nothing you wouldn’t find in a no-frills café—but tweaked just enough to feel intentional. The second-floor lights peek out from carved drywall like they’re shy, keeping the whole ‘low-key but clever’ vibe going.

The best part? The space isn’t weighed down by fancy decor. No gold-plated nonsense, no velvet chairs. Just blank, flour-white walls and warm wood touches, letting the food and the people bring the energy. That’s the philosophy here—let the essentials shine. The graphics will shift with the seasons, just like the menu. Smart. Flexible. No ego.

“We loved that ‘making’ would remain in the story of the building, — and wanted to honour the honesty of the structure and the history without being too deferential,” says Costantino.

Occhiolino is a restaurant built the way a great pasta dish is made—simple parts, perfectly balanced, no wasted motion. A working-class space serving working-class food done right. No gimmicks. Just good eating.