Tag Archives: Brunch

Fable

Hard to distinguish hipster from Vancouverite, but that’s probably the Toronto in me talking. Six of the nine wait staff wore plaid (back of house working in a lovely open kitchen monolpolizing the restaurant’s front wore black). The washroom toilet paper was held on antlers. Our group of six waited for a few minutes on …

Old School

I trailed of beard of hipsters into Old School, a evening bar, cozy day food local, and morning brunch spot decked out in distressed black-painted wood moderately uncomfortable chairs and benches. The Silly Vogelfänger was fast behind me, and together we piled our coats, scarves, and volumous furs upon our seats in efforts to find …

The Beverly

The haze of glass washer. The chatter and clatter of hungry, painted mouths and gleaming, polished silverware. The short aroma of drip coffee wafts up to me, lulling me into a daze as I listen to the bustle of the hotel’s bar and brunch seating swinging around me. An honest smile from a curly-haired brunette. …

The Beast

Arrive at 10:30am, told 15 minutes wait. Go wander for fifteen minutes through the residential neighbourhood. Steal flowers from an old woman’s garden. Return 10:45am. Told five minutes wait. Seated at 10:59am. Waitress arrives and takes our full order at 11:01am, as we’re hungry and regretting not snacking more before brunch. Food arrives at 11:46am. …