Staying up until 3 a.m. watching a shock Japanese film entitled, Tokyo Gore Police is always an awesome idea. It is however, not an awesome idea if you plan on getting up early the next morning to visit a patisserie. "Ugggghhhh, patisserie agaaiiinnnn!" Now, now, I didn't visit the place after all. I planned on it, but I didn't. I, instead, got distracted with company, visiting cafes, picking up pants, wandering downtown, kind-of-grocery shopping, harassing company's family members, schmoozing with chocolatiers, AND visiting patisseries. Anyway, I didn't even visit the place I wanted to visit, on account of the fact that it was just another chain- and I got lost.
But, I assure you I won't allow my poor sense of direction to effect this entry. At least not that much.
So, on my way to another patisserie, aptly named La Patisserie (I know), I recalled all those specialty food stores my sister told me about. Especially one that, apparently, had a patissier or chocolatier, or sushi chef. It had a sushi chef. Who,conveniently, helped out with the preparation of every other food: casarole, canneloni, you name it. Now, it's a sure bet that in Kitchener-Waterloo (in the well to do places that is) there is always one specialty food store: David's gourmet, Dave's Gourmet, Donna's Gourmet, Donna's little sister Gourmet, Someone's Gourmet who's name starts with "D." Sure, a year or two ago it seemed like a good idea, but good god man, now it might just be an eye-sore. And anyway, I'm not here to plug the peasant food of Sicily repackaged as specialty and decadence (there's that word again!). If you're rich enough to buy the stuff, good on ya; if you're ignorant enough to assume it's probably the best around and the price is just justification of that, I'm sorry. Don't be offended, I go too; sometimes to people watch, other times to pretend I'm in some kind of food museum where the packaged food is expensively priced specifically to prevent people from buying it. Somewhere, I'm sure.
Casa Mia doesn't fall too far from that tree, save, of course, for its amalgamation of cafe and deli and specialty food store character. I think the others just have delis. No wait. It's more or less the same wherever you go. Casa Mia did have an open concept cafe though, tastefully decorated with backyard furniture, I'm assuming because they sunk the last of their budget in that chocolatier from Zurich. Hey, that's what I was told. Until I asked, after parusing the pastries and asking the brutally honest cashier where the guy from Zurich was. His response was a simple: "We get our pastries from suppliers." "But the supplier's from Zurich right? RIGHT?"
My friend wanted some pepperettes. I wanted a chocolatier.
For what it was however, Casa Mia was a nice place; most specialty stores feel small and stuffy. This one was spacious; whether on purpose or not, I'll never know. Service was good, maybe because at 10 a.m., it wasn't busy. But I couldn't complain. So, we visited the quaint little "cafe" section- and I use that term loosely- remember the patio furniture? We visited the baked goods, the espresso machines, the Swiss, or Swedish biscotties. I can't remember, I was just amazed they even existed. Eventually, we ordered. Pecan tarts and capuccinos. The tarts . . . tasted like sweet, buttery tarts. Generally delicious. The capuccinos, equally so. What else is there to say? They have some good suppliers? At least the pastries looked good, but what was the point? Where was the magic? I bet a chocolatier does work there, I just asked the wrong guy. I bet.
So, after some talk about mutant engineers and vagina dentata, my pleasant company and I were off to none other than Sablétine. Unorthodox, I know; but I was talking about it too much. How could I refuse? At least this time, near 12 in the afternoon it was empty. And we were foolish enough to awkwardly gawk and stay long, sitting on their lovely IKEA-esque chairs in front of their IKEA-esque tables (to use the French). Take that Casa Mia. It was like a tea party. It was like Alice wasn't the creation of some tight-wad creeper who liked children, but the trendy creation of an Austrian furniture designer, who just thought guys who worked too long in hat factories and had strung out rabbit friends, rejected from Trix casting calls, were so passé, and preferred quiet afternoons sipping peppermint tea, eating sweet breads and talking about The City and fathers who built skate parks for their otherwise spoiled and disinterested kids. You probably can`t make the connection, but don`t worry, you`re not supposed to anyway.
So, back on the subject of eating: we did try a sweet bread made with orange water smothered in an almond topping which I ignorantly mistook for a cookie. Should I even use the "D" word here? Is it really that necessary? I can only liken the flavour to its snooty French roots. That and the raw aroma of tea leaves. When you smell them, of course. Something I find remarkably appealing. That may be a terrible comparison, but I couldn't describe it to my friend either. It was friggin' remarkable. But we had business to take care of! We still had another patisserie to visit.
So we drove . . . way too far, in the wrong direction. Yeah, I took urban studies once. I was more interested in the people though. We weren't lost. I just didn't know where a particular street was. If anything, it was lost. And we were downtown. Kitchener. Past that, even. And that only meant one option: Hong Kong plaza. Grocery stores. Shelves with Asian celebrities put on boxes of coffee biscuits. I made it up to my driver by buying her some mooncakes and Thai coffee, and with funny anecdotes about the woman with blonde highlights in her Vietnamese hair. And then we visited Nova Era. I know, right? Only to ask directions though. Don't worry, I was the only one looking stupid. Especially when I stopped outside to take a picture of a new all you can eat sushi place that was opening next door. Expect that adventure in the near future.
My friend suggested we visit her sister. Harass was the operative word. I was game. But not before ducking into Kitchener's weekend market, if only for a few minutes, which, not unexpectedly, turned into a long few, because we got distracted with free samples by the granite-counter-top making husband of a chocolotier. Take that Casa Mia. Trust me, I would have taken alot more photos, but I was having too much fun. Plus, free chocolate.
But finally. Finally, we left, and decided to leave that other patiserrie for now, or for never.
Seven Shores Urban Market and Cafe was our final stop. Let me set the mood: hippies, fat heads, yuppies, freeters, buddha, red walls, organic food, gold diggers, old guys. Coffee. Fairtrade. Sisters. Me, mouthing off to sisters. Oh, and some guy named Ronnie Hawkins. I'm sure the food was great. But we were both too full to eat anymore. I just came to meet someone's sister, and someone came for more coffee. But I'll still plug it. It's a great place to people watch, and feel responsible for the environment, and impress girls who care about the environment, and take photos obnoxiously while people try to seriously discuss the state of clear cutting in the Amazon. And maybe gives alms to Buddha, who I'm pretty sure has no idea why he's associated with environmentalism and fairtrade. It's a long way from detachment and convolution. And that's about as convoluded as I can get in this post.
And that was more or less my adventures in food land. Got up, meandered patisseries, went to market, offerred coffee to buddha, went home, went to work. You're pretty glad though, aren't you? You didn't have to listen to any trite dribble about food and restaurant conduct. Why would anyone want to anyway? Psh.
Casa Mia Deli & Cafe Inc.
7 Father David Bauer Dr.
Waterloo, ON
(519) 725-2272
Kitchener Market
300 King Street East
Kitchener, ON
519-741-2287http://www.kitchenermarket.ca
Seven Shores Urban Market & Cafe
8 Regina St. N. - Unit 5
Waterloo, ON. N2J 2Z8
519-342-0916 http://www.sevenshorestrading.com
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