There is a brief, practical phase in every restaurant’s life when the work is nearly done, the systems are taking shape, and the room is still quiet enough to study. Uchu is in that phase now.

I stopped by Uchu yesterday afternoon (Wednesday, January 21) while the dust was still settling and the crew was finishing the last small, invisible jobs that separate a construction site from a restaurant. Trades were laying tile at the entrance, others moving through the main dining room and kitchen finishing and cleaning. It was loud in the practical way new restaurants are loud right before the end, with tools out, laptops open, and boxes of light fixtures stacked near tables already set in place. It felt close.

The room has come together quickly, just six months after the Suyo team picked up the keys (backstory here). Compared to previous lives of the space, it’s lighter and more cohesive, with a softness that reads immediately as coastal. A fringe of greens outlines the room from above, mimicking seaweed and creating the feeling of dining underwater. Marble tabletops carry subtle patterns that recall sun refracting through clear water on a sandy bottom. Large sculptural fish, arriving from Peru, will eventually float through the centre of the room, pulling the eye upward and filling the height without weighing it down.

If Suyo is compact and moody, with a subtle jungle feel, this is its opposite. Beachy, open, calm. Ocean blues, sand tones, warm wood. Even in build mode, it already reads as a seafood restaurant.

And that impression isn’t accidental. It’s built into the bones of the room.

That focus is reinforced by the layout. Original brick remains. The ceilings are tall. The room doesn’t fight its surroundings or over-explain itself. It feels ready to contribute rather than announce. Along the west wall, curving gently to maintain flow, banquette seating runs the length of the space, paired with small marble tables and simple wooden chairs. The arrangement keeps the room calm and uncluttered, with clear views across the bar.

It’s a room that reflects how Valverde thinks about hospitality: considered, practical, and designed to work under pressure.

A bar dominates the east side, beginning with six seats near the front door before extending into a longer stretch of raw bar seating along a continuous, marble-topped counter. Warm wood panelling and vertical ribbing give it presence without bulk. At the southern end, a prominent seafood display case anchors the space and is treated as part of the dining experience rather than back-of-house. As the team talked about seafood towers and platters, they were visibly excited about occasionally inviting guests to choose directly from the display.

This is a seafood restaurant, clearly and deliberately.

Chef Ricardo Valverde walked me through the kitchen and talked through the thinking behind the room as we moved. He was proud, visibly so, but grounded in the details. When I asked whether he’d imagined what it would feel like once the restaurant is full, he didn’t hesitate. He talked about music first. Classic ’80s and ’90s salsa. People laughing. Then a glance across the room to co-owners James Reynolds and Felix Ng that said, “We did it.”

That imagined scene tracks with how Uchu wants to be experienced. Valverde describes it as casual but polished. A place where diners come for high-quality seafood but feel just as comfortable arriving in shorts and flip-flops as they would dressed for a long night out. The formality is in the food and execution, not the posture.

The menu centres coastal Peru. Expect vibrant ceviches and tiraditos, seafood towers that move north to south through the country, and raw preparations that play with acid, texture, and rich flavour. Dishes range from layered causa with bluefin tuna and crab to warm scallops finished with garlic, parmesan, aji amarillo, and yuzu, alongside larger-format plates like fried sea bream with prawns and calamari and wok-fired noodles shaped by Chifa tradition. There are nods to Nikkei and Chinese-Peruvian cooking throughout, and Valverde has also invested in a pasta machine for fresh pasta.

The same discipline runs through the drinks program.

Manager and wine director Michael Durocher has lined up a wine list built to work with salt, acid, and heat, with bright whites, structure where it matters, and enough flexibility to move comfortably from raw fish to fried seafood to richer dishes. Behind the bar, Erdem Telli has devised a focused list of cevicheria drinks centred on pisco and coastal-friendly cocktails, from citrus-forward Pisco Sours to the toasted coconut notes of the Agridulce and the earthy layers of Emolienteros, a traditional herbal, barley-based drink rooted in Peruvian street culture. It’s a program that pairs Peruvian flavours with clean execution and enough range to work just as well for non-drinkers as it does for serious cocktail fans.

Taken together, it all points in the same direction.

They’re not quite open yet, but they’re close. The noise will quiet. The tools will disappear. The room will fill. And when it does, Uchu looks ready to deliver exactly what Valverde has been working toward: a modern cevicheria and raw bar, grounded in seafood, built for people who care about what’s on the plate without needing to perform for it.

Uchu is set to open on February 6, with dinner service running Tuesday through Saturday from 5:00 to 10:00 pm. Reservations are already filling up. Sort yourself out here. While you wait, take a look at the photos below for a sense of what is to come…

Uchu Cevichería & Raw Bar

Neighbourhood: Chinatown

158 East Pender St.

(Opening soon)