Toronto is a city on the run. Everywhere you go, people are clutching coffee cups and paper bags stuffed with muffins or cookies. The notion of three square meals is as quaint—and unrealistic—as Leave It to Beaver, and indulgences are practically a daily requirement. We live in a culture where mid-morning meetings are unthinkable without a spread of bagels or doughnuts. At offices like Google and eBay, chocolate almonds and gummi bears are always within reach. And if my kids and their friends are any indication, we’re well on our way to raising a generation of even more dedicated snackers: it seems unconscionable to leave the house with anything less than four food options and a couple of drinks.

It was only a matter of time before a chef took the grazing impulse seriously. Xococava, Chris McDonald’s new sweet shop and carry-out café in Delisle Court at Yonge and St. Clair, specializes in chocolates, gelato and other sweet indulgences. It’s hard to imagine a more sophisticated dessert than his four-note Spanish pudding for grown-ups. Set in a plastic cup, it’s also pedestrian friendly, though I’d rather sit and contemplate its complex flavours. His new venture is a perfect reflection of the way we eat in 2008. When McDonald first opened Cava two years ago, he was reacting to the zeitgeist. “We live in a society where people don’t want to commit anymore,” he said. Not to 10-course tasting menus. Not even to whole bottles of wine. Now he’s banking on the assumption that we’d rather not commit to a chair.

Tellingly, the only place you can loiter in Xococava (pronounced shokocava, it’s a fusion of xocolata, the Catalan word for chocolate, and cava, the Spanish word for bubbly) is at the Carrara marble bar. Above it hangs a snow white mosaic of shattered fine bone china, the remnants of Rosenthal and Limoges plates from McDonald’s former restaurant Avalon. Even though it was one of the city’s most respected and acclaimed dining rooms, Avalon rarely turned a profit. (McDonald, who took a crowbar to the china, grins at the suggestion that the act might have been cathartic.) The mosaic is a witty monument to the death of haute cuisine—and an apt symbol of a gourmet revolution that began at fine dining establishments and has now trickled down to neighbourhood restaurants. Cava is always packed, as is Jamie Kennedy’s new café, Gilead. Splendido just opened the more casual Nota Bene across from the opera house. Meanwhile, North 44°’s Mark McEwan is hard at work on a grocery store with a grand sel­ection of prepared foods that will rival Pusateri’s.

McDonald is betting that most Torontonians are tired of the junk sold at doughnut shops and coffee chains, bored with such sugary retro comforts as cupcakes and crullers. In their place, he’s offering more adult treats: hand-painted chocolate bars with imperfect bittersweet beauty; Spanish dessert cups with complex layers of caramel, mousse, almonds and sponge cake. Perhaps he’s recognized that the true signs of a thriving culinary culture aren’t found in the finest restaurant meals: they lie in the quality of everyday food—the groceries we buy, the chocolate we eat, the many snacks that punctuate our days.