When Elsie Shrigley and Donald Watson founded the UK Vegan Society in 1944, they were trying to distance themselves from vegetarianism's inclusion of dairy and other animal by-products. They would be shocked out of their sarongs to encounter the arrogance that greets customers at some of Toronto's vegan restaurants: juice-tenders taking a siesta rather than serving juice, vegetables steamed clean of nutrients because kitchen staff aren't trained to cook and faux foods presented in quotation marks for their similarity to duck, feta or bacon. As cartoon cat Ray Smuckles said, “If the majority of your menu is in quotations, you're running a metaphor, not a restaurant.”

Joseph Tam and his 12-seat DIY restaurant Hibiscus humbly take the piss out of granola snootiness. There's not a trace of vegan urban fervour as Tam explains his menu. It's a dairy-, egg- and wheat-free selection of chilled salads, plus, inexplicably, sweet and savoury crepes. That's it. With no evidence of any other employees, he prepares our food, serves us and operates the cash.

His little shop is adorable, too. Instead of hollow Maoist placards or dishes named after soul-shifting trips to India, we're welcomed by stained-wood shelves lined with herbal teas, oils and beans. A little table for two with high-backed stools rests in the front window, and benches are scattered with the day's papers. Its neat tastefulness and slight elevation give the space the feel of a cozy one-bedroom condo raised just slightly above the din of Kensington's bohemian rabble (like the kid across the street in the pin-studded denim vest who is far too enthused by his acquisition of a dime-store squeeze box).

Tam extracts maximum wow effect out of a half dozen cold salads, bursting with vibrant oranges and greens, fanned out in a rustic wooden bowl ($7). Sprouting out of this bouquet is a toasted rice cake smeared with spicy sun-dried tomato pesto. The simplicity of the palette-like presentation is boosted by Tam's utter humility as he escorts dishes and clears tables.

Fierce nuttiness inhabits a fluffy quinoa tabbouleh covered in dried cranberries and sunflower seeds. Raw shreds of beet crunch as a slaw dressed in a whiff of toasted sesame oil and lemon. Little soy-marinated cubes of tofu sit next to balsamic-tossed green beans.

It all slides down with a mellow mango-banana smoothie ($3.50) and a wheat-free, organic root beer ($2.62) smacking heavily of vanilla.

The gluten-free crepe ($5.50), produced with buckwheat flour, is closer to a crisp dosa (a south Indian crepe made from a rice/lentil batter). As a cheese-eater (literal cheese-eating, not Boston slang for informing, dime-dropping, etc.), I find it soothing to round out the earthy bowl of vegetables and grains with a crepe stuffed with creamy goat cheese, mushrooms and mango chutney.

Little chocolate-raspberry cakelettes ($1.25) are affably under-sweetened. But calling them cupcakes is like calling Brandon Routh Superman. Maybe Bizarro cupcakes. Face it: cupcakes have frosting and frosting is why we eat cupcakes. Comparing dairy- and wheat-free confections with their real counterparts is just unfair. A frozen sphere of whipped soy ($2.95) is well-balanced with ginger and masala and has a curiously crumbly texture. It would be superb if not labelled ice cream.

Dropping into this serene oasis at lunch, a smile is served by a fellow diner, the sort traded at a spa when two parties are waiting for a massage. With no music, the only sounds are Tam's paring knife on some mushrooms against a tiny cutting board and another patron's fluttering of laptop keys. If you're bemoaning the lack of healthy lunch choices at work, get the intern to hop on his bike and snatch you some takeout from Hibiscus.

Everything at Hibiscus is, to borrow a term abused by this city's culinary lexicon, fresh, because this dude does it, to borrow another overused term, right.

Considering Toronto menus and chef egos, Tam is to be commended for the narrowness of his scope, and the precision and charm with which he achieves it.

*Price includes three courses, drinks, taxes and tip.