Die Bread, Die

The Weltanschauung that codifies German Baked Specialties Ltd., or GBS for short, may be that it dabbles in the sales of German baked goods that are made, and therefore consist, of authentic German ingredients. That’s right, the new bakery located on the Uptown strip and no more than a month old has been abuzz with the most svelte of palettes (to sound as ignorantly German and sophisticated as I possibly can). What puts GBS in the current running as a potentially great bakery in a city with deep German roots and a lot of German culinary influence is the very dynamic that each loaf of bread, so I am told, is made and baked 60% in Deutschland and then shipped out here to the little town of Waterloo where the process is completed and customers get the privilege of having something of European quality put in their authenticity seeking mouths. Now, unless you think about what you put in your mouth, eating from GBS can seem like a kind of battle of culinary Imperialism. One can buy the food because of its quality and very well elevate themselves to that level of gastronomic sophistication, knowing where to get the best bread; or, one can refuse because it doesn’t support local eating- the carbon footprint is a big one. These are in fact two points I’ve discussed with those aware of GBS’s existence as of late, and as a gastronome I eat the drama up. Regardless, I’m not a hard sell when it comes to eating, and considering where the bread comes from, it certainly is affordable and I think worth a good try.

I considered coming late in the afternoon a good advantage, only to be caught in the eye of a storm of customers because GBS, unlike other bakeries around that I’ve been to, was still knee deep in dough. Surly bakers rushed in and out with treys of bread, while their more gentle counterparts attended to me as best they could. All-the-while, there I was, treading connoisseurship in a sea of housewives and flaneurs. The Bourgeoisie sentiment of the space was enough to remind you of your great Imperialist Aunt’s house. You know? The one with dendritic prints on her wallpaper, a gaudy glass chandelier, and a fireplace where your Uncle reads about, I dunno, Thatcherism? Yes, GBS certainly sets its long interior up as a narrow yet dazzling 3^rd space of the Bourgeoisie, as paradoxical as that may sound. I can only imagine what the spirits of our political ancestors would say. But don’t be so quick to judge, because though GBS offers a focused bill of fare (that being bread), it gives good reason to just stay in and enjoy. Coffee is one of them. I had to get the coffee, because during my second experience hearing about GBS I was made to promise to buy the coffee, the only coffee the place offers. One simple, focused, allegedly brewed right, cup.

Now, I may have learned kung fu from a grandmaster from the hills of Hunan province, how to eat from a kid from Hong Kong, and how to cook from an old Thai woman, but everything I learned about connoisseurship I learned from a woman who knows it better than I know myself. Who ate fish so fresh it was like fish candy, who picked wild berries as a child and ate them immediately with fresh cream, and who to this day keeps a lemon tree and red hen in her backyard. And as always, my old Bourdieusian master was right. It was one clean cup; no acrid, tannic acidity, but just tart and clean. The kind of stuff that makes the back of your throat roll over in submission. There was no need at all for any sugar or cream. My only qualm may have been that it is offered in one large cup; still, for a cheap price in retrospect. Aside from a good cup, GBS offers other great café-esque fare like doughnuts, light and chewy, and covered in chocolate fondant a little rich for my mouth. Closer to a soft cake rather than the gooey things we’re used to in the superfluous doughnut shops of our town. GBS has cheese cake, it has spreads for slices of bread, it even makes an array of sexy sandwiches running between 4 and 5 dollars. And mark my words, if I wasn’t drowning in a sea of Saturday afternoon socialites I’d have stayed for a slice, but I was satisfied asking for the helps’ favorite loaves.

A loaf at GBS will run you a good 5 dollars, give or take a little more. That said, they’re a good size, and asking for an even half is ample enough in my humble opinion. First, I was offered a dark organic rye. A loaf with a chalky exterior, it was the toughest of the group, but a potent rye nonetheless. Strong and full bodied with a smoky smell and even smokier aftertaste, it was the kind of savoury flavor you’d expect in German cuisine; a perfect partner to any pastrami.

Next, I was shown the polenta; a delicate corn bread with a muted flavor, but resilient shell dusted with cornmeal. Its interior was pliant and its flavor enhanced by a sprinkling of sunflower seeds throughout.

After that, I went after the rye sour dough. Hearty, but surprisingly not dense, it was another rich rye, this time with a charred back note. Any character from the sourdough was weak, but instead a mild sweetness permeated throughout.

Thanking the bakers and on my way to work a shift in underemployment, I was graciously met with a spelt loaf before I left, free of charge. That’s right, even gluten freevangelicals can enjoy what the GBS has to offer (kinda). GBS just may be the bakery that raises the bar for the elder bakeries still operating in this city, but lacking in a city where bread may have become too comfortable.

German Baked Specialties Ltd.

226-291-1147

94 King Street South

Waterloo, ON N2L 1P5

UPTOWN

Mon.- Sat.: 930-5

closed Sunday

Any payment

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