I breathed a sigh of relief last September, the first time I went down to Mercer Street and saw Ame, the Rubino brothers’ new restaurant. After a year of too many downsized bistro debuts, here was a room of noble proportion and genuine beauty, a gorgeous phoenix born from the ashes of Rain. I loved the elemental decor: a huge granite boulder used as the hostess stand, massive columns of rough-hewn timber, a sushi bar of coffee-coloured marble thrusting out into the room. The lighting, elaborate but subtle, created its own separate architecture of shadows. It was quiet the night of my visit, so soon after the unannounced opening—just a few dozen people having dinner and a handful of cocktail enthusiasts at the bar. In the bright open kitchen, chef Guy Rubino had his head down in concentration, demonstrating an intricate plate presentation to his team. His older brother, Michael, always the affable front-of-house maestro, was discussing the wine list with a couple from the States, big fans of the Rubinos’ reality show, Made to Order. Alone at a corner table sat Charles Khabouth, the third partner in this enterprise, studying every detail.

It made for a fascinating tableau. I’ve been intrigued by this high-powered collaboration ever since it was announced last winter. The Rubinos are famously independent, and have built some of the most notable restaurants in this city. Khabouth is renowned as the king of clubs (though he winces at the cliché) but already had plenty to keep himself busy. It may seem an unlikely alliance of big personalities, but they’re united in their quest for something uniquely glamorous.

Torontonians have a curiously uneasy attitude toward glitzy restaurants. It wasn’t always the case. We loved them in the 1980s, revelling in the luxe exuberance of Pronto, Orso, Centro, and the ultimate extra­vagance of Oceans, Charles Khabouth’s first, brief stint as a restaurateur. The recession of the early 1990s poured a bucket of cold water over those perfumed dreams, and ever since, ostentatious restaurants have been viewed with distrust and perhaps a small measure of guilt. The Rubinos’ first restaurant, Zoom, was handsome but not flashy enough to draw fire when it opened in 1996. Rain, four years later, was a different story—super-cool, with a huge bar and lounge area and cutting-edge Asian-fusion cooking. It even gained a reputation for arrogance; in its first few weeks, the Rubinos turned away would-be patrons without reservations. But Rain prospered, joining the gourmet A‑list and luring well-heeled loft dwellers normally more interested in cool bars than haute cuisine.

When Rain became the location for Made to Order, showcasing Michael’s business smarts and Guy’s fanati­cal attention to culinary detail, a worldwide fan base joined its clientele. The program’s three seasons aired in over 190 countries, and the brothers found themselves mobbed like rock stars at Asian airports; in New York, they hobnobbed with such leaders of the industry as Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto and superstar restaurateur Drew Nieporent. “It’s weird,” concedes Michael. “The camaraderie we have with chefs and restaurateurs is way stronger outside Toronto. Here, it’s so competitive. Television has opened so many doors.”