Rily Kitchen

Sunday Family Dinner. It’s more than just a meal; it’s a ritual.

If you missed our last dinner, here’s your second chance. Sunday Family Dinner is back in two weeks, and there are a handful of seats left at the table. Tickets are available on Eventbrite (linked in bio).

Couple of film shots from our dinner with Alex .alexj and FT

6-courses, one-long table and the kind of night that just kept rolling. Pictured are two of the dishes, a scallop crudo with persimmon and fonio along with braised beef cheeks in peanut stew. Nights like this are about good food, open hands and never quite knowing when to call it a night.

Some slightly unhinged moments from our last Sunday Family Dinner. Chef Matthew Ravenscroft turned vegetables into chaos & reminded us food should never be too serious 🥬

Finally got the film back from Sunday Family Dinner with FT & Chef Mayo

Just good people, good energy, and a table that brought everyone together.

Discover the flavours of Ikaria, Greece, where food, connection and longevity meet.

Join us for an inspiring evening of cooking and community at Rily Kitchen. Learn to prepare nourishing, Mediterranean dishes in this hands-on cooking class, then gather around the table for a shared meal rooted in simplicity and mindfulness.

📆 October 28 | 5:30 - 9:30PM
📍 Rily Kitchen, Toronto
🎟️ Tickets available on Eventbrite - link in bio

We’re backkkkk!!!

Sunday Family Dinner. It’s more than just a meal; it’s a ritual.

Picture this: a sprawling table crowded with dishes that tell stories of generations. The smell of rich, simmering sauces mingles with laughter and the clink of glasses. It’s a time when everyone puts down their phones (or are at least told to), sets aside their worries, and comes together.

In most cultures, the essence of family dinner is the same. It’s about connection. It’s about tradition. It’s about passing down recipes and stories, and for a few precious hours, forgetting the outside world. In France, it might be a rich, slow-simmered Boeuf Bourguignon, its aroma filling the room with warmth and comfort. Or Chicken Cordon Bleu, crisp and golden, hiding a melting heart of ham and cheese. Delicate tarts, silky soups, pillowy pomme purée, each dish a nod to heritage, technique, and the joy of sharing good food around the table.

And there, amid the food and chatter, lies the true heart of Sunday Family Dinner. It’s in the shared experience, the comfort of familiar faces, and the joy of being together. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, it’s absolutely beautiful and it’s an experience we want to share with you.

Join us on October 19th for our next meal. Tickets linked in bio ~

Some nights remind you why we gather around the table in the first place.

At our last Sunday Family Dinner, FT & Chef Mayo served a meal stitched with memory. Jollof that held its own. Suya that whispered sweet nothings, then smacked you with spice. Big flavours, no ego—just heart. Honest food that brings us back to ourselves, and back to each other.

We’ll save you a seat at the next one on May 25th, with Chef Matthew Ravenscroft. Link in bio (you know the drill).

Sunday Family Dinner. It’s more than just a meal; it’s a ritual.

Picture this: a table full of food that didn’t come from grandma’s recipe box—but still tells a story. Plates passed, stories swapped, laughter spilling over like an overpoured glass of wine. It’s not always about what’s been handed down. Sometimes, it’s about what you choose to build. Something new. Something that feels like home.

Not all traditions come from the past. Some get built from scratch—out of curiosity, love, and a little trial and error. Chef Matthew Ravenscroft is doing exactly that. With two kids, a deep love of vegetables, and a sense of play, he’s cooking the kind of meals that become rituals. There’s a blooming onion that knows it’s the main event, risotto so green it might start photosynthesizing, and a mousse topped with a cookie his dad learned from a babysitter in the ’70s and somehow never forgot. It’s not about where the recipe came from—it’s about who you cook it for.

That’s the heart of Sunday Family Dinner. Not tradition for tradition’s sake—but the messy, beautiful act of showing up, sharing a meal, and making something that sticks. Pull up a chair. We saved you a seat.

Tickets available on Eventbrite (link in bio)

Scenes from the prep kitchen from last month’s Flavours of Italy with Gianluca. Swipe to the second photo—cantucci, not biscotti. I kept mixing them up, but the distinction matters. He’s got the recipe up on his page, and trust me, it’s worth making. We probably ate 20 between the two of us. Restraint is never on our menu.

He’s back today gearing up for tomorrow’s dinner, and if the gods are kind, there are leftover maritozzi somewhere in his bag. Not that I’m asking, Gianluca, not at all.