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Every so often, you might experience an evening at a restaurant which is, in essence and from start to finish, perfect. That’s rare, but I’ve found that it does happen on occasion.

It may start with a casual stroll down the street passing the bustling and effervescent activity from the neighbouring and vibrant restaurant patios you look in on; through the trees, the last of the afternoon’s sunlight might be dappled and a cool breeze breaks through the not-too-hot summer heat.

The building itself you might end up at, a late-1800s revival style of some sort or another British-era, I’m sure, has had a long and sometimes serious history of businesses that has occupied the space on Somerset West before it, but the current playful font on the black awning — Arlo — sets up what you get when you enter: a casual, relaxed ambience.

So far, so perfect: from #71 to #49
The name on the awning, it seems, is a casual reference to the popular American folk singer Arlo Guthrie, the son of Woody Guthrie, a social activist and anti-Vietnam War protester who captured his rebellious moment in his beloved 18-minute song/spoken-word performance “Alice’s Restaurant” from his 1967 debut album of the same name: it’s great satire, as well as an engaging narrative of the often humorous events around it. (I encourage you to look it up).

I don’t think there is any protest or even a real connection to the actual song, so perhaps Arlo just has an element of folksy blues around it and perhaps someone on the ownership team is just a Guthrie fan. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I heard a song by Strummer and The Clash (itself another type of protest) playing in the dining room. (I love that.)

What is certain is that Arlo was dubbed No. 49 by canadas100best.com. Last year, it clocked in at No. 71, so the venue and its staff are up a considerable few notches for 2025, and that’s terrific. No matter what you think about lists one way or the other, it’s nice to see a few Ottawa restaurants (Atelier, Perch, Riviera) in the mix.

Also perfect, though it might seem minor, the greeting at the door: it’s friendly, sincere and with shared laughs between the five of us. As we are escorted to our table at 7 p.m.-ish, Arlo is already hopping and energetic at its first seating. For me, that represents yet another layer of perfect: the vibe and activity that I often want in a restaurant experience.

Inside, there’s some whimsy, a playful blend of eclectic and seemingly disparate styles that foreground casual comfort and functionality. That works for me.

There’s a bistro feel with the lighting and artwork styles, a few perhaps ironic candles drippy with wax, a certain feel from a lack of table linen (instead there’s good quality paper napkins), Duralex-style glassware, corner tables with banquettes and a wait-station chock-full of wine glasses and dining accoutrements in full display.

Function and whimsy in decor and on the plate
The Arlo menu is smallish — and that’s fine too because it’s all handled with aplomb by Jamie Stunt, chef and a co-owner (he won silver at the Canadian Culinary Championship at one point a while back). His kitchen puts up dishes that are playful without being silly, casual without being haphazard.

Four snacks and four apps include a simple but surprisingly delicious tapas-sort-of plate of sardines from the north coast of Spain (Bay of Biscay, I believe) and toasted bread slathered with lardo: delicious, the toast is perfectly crisped (if that seems dumb to say) and easy to cut and share; the salty-briny sardines are nicely balanced by the fat and offer an extra mouthful of umami. We ordered two plates of them, in fact.

You could call it a latke or a potato pancake if you wanted, perhaps, but it’s sort of a hash brown that forms the fun base of “Cavendish + ‘Caviar'” (think about it and you’ll get it) that is equally delicious and just plain fun to scoop up and consume: dollops of lumpfish roe (rather than, say, sturgeon caviar) have pleasant snap, some saltiness and an element of spice that meld ideally with the crispy “hash brown.” It’s a cool looking dish with some crème fraîche and a few red-veined baby beetroot leaves (I think) for garnish.

I’d gladly return to Arlo to munch the other seven snacks and apps — but they will likely be different on future changing menus.

Main courses are five and cover the bases: vegetarian, pork, beef (a lovely looking ribeye for two to share), duck and fish.

Ocean perch is excellent: pan-seared and flaky, it is served with what I’ll call a succotash-like base of corn, lardons, cauliflower and a unique sake beurre blanc to set it off. Pork collar, not a cut you see everyday, was generous, sweet and meaty and surrounded by seasonal veg.

Duck frites, it seems to me, capture some of the bistro personality, as I see it, that is steak frites with three duck bits (including some heart) on some awfully good fries(!!!), summer greens and a garlic aïoli. Grilled on a skewer — “Don’t touch it,” said the waiter. “It’s very hot” (I touched it and it was) — the brochette was scrumptious and mildly spiced to enhance duckishness.

The several dishes we had, including a strawberry shortcake dessert, all had that appealing rustic yet casually easy-going and stylish presentation that seemed to me quite in keeping with the casual and unencumbered atmosphere that charges Arlo.

Unparalled service
However, what nudged our Arlo visit into another realm entirely was the service: waiter Brad was superb, and I think just about perfectly exhibited the élan that is the restaurant.

As I see it, it is no little skill to be able to read and interpret how and when to approach a table of first-time guests, and Brad got it right, right away. Personable and engaged, though seemingly effortlessly so, he has a great sense of humour and could, when appropriate, even discuss with us some aspects of his personal life.

Clearly at ease but diligent, he discussed the menu and the dishes succinctly and with enthusiasm. Never once did I sense he was “playing a role,” that it was a facade or costume that had been donned to do a job in order to draw a gratuity out of us. The result was that we felt a sort of at-table camaraderie throughout the evening because of it and that we were truly appreciated as customers. I think that’s rare.

Some cool wines
The restaurant is notably Arlo *Wine and Restaurant* — and clearly, from the view to the wine storage one has from the dining room, the noble grape is a key ingredient in what Arlo does.

I was interested in a sparkler start to our meal and thought: Prosecco for the table. But then I stumbled onto an intriguing red variation of bubbles as I flipped through the wine list: Sebastien Van de Sype’s Lambrusco Rifermento with a snap-off crown cap. The Dutch name in Castelvetro di Modena had me curious, and we were rewarded: the wine was delicious and different.

Part of Arlo’s robust natural wine cellar (with wines sans pesticides and additives, etc.), this wine was new to me, but Brad had all the information and detail anyone would need — this given the substantial number of wines he had to know about. He also directed us to a Syrah, Éric Texier’s Brézème, which was a fine north Rhone selection but one without official appellation status.

I’m not saying anything new here, but most diners, I imagine, will agree that great service can generally always rectify flaws or inconsistencies in a dish. The latter flaws certainly weren’t the case at Arlo on this night, but our table’s experience with our waiter was, frankly, unparalleled the four of us agreed.

A magical finish under the trees
And yet, the night wasn’t over: a few feet away from our table was a door to the old building’s “backyard” patio which only made a perfect evening exquisite. Arlo’s two-tiered deck is enclosed and swaddled by high fencing and a stunning and magical canopy provided by the large trees of the Centretown urban forest: with cool breezes, the energy and vibe from several dozen guests and the music was, as I’ve said, the rarest of dining-out gifts, added to by sips of amaro digestifs poured into frosty little stemmed Le Picardie-style glasses.

Such an experience as this recent evening at Arlo, in all of its elements, doesn’t happen all the time, to be sure. But when it does, you remember it fondly for a long while. I think the trouble is the high standard only makes your next dining-out adventure elsewhere one that is planned with a tinge of trepidation that it might fall short.