‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.’
The immortal words of Robert Frost. Riddled with romanticism; perhaps, when considered more closely, tinged with a bit of naïveté. Because although he took the road less traveled and it had made all the difference, was the difference a good difference, or merely a difference? A difference so vague that we as readers don’t necessarily know if the outcome was worthwhile, we just fill in the ambiguous gaps with the positive, poetic assumptions we’re taught- usually in that English class we were forced to take during summer school? For you see, today I literally took the road less traveled. And, yes, it made a difference. But that seems to be all. Just something different. Actually, it wasn’t that different. It was in a location that seems less traveled. For a restaurant, anyway.
Bud’s Restaurant seems like something sort of forgotten, neglected through time, and left alone by culinary modernity. It’s another breakfast place. Okay, it’s another breakfast and lunch place. And it has that dynamic of self-entitlement. If you’ve been paying attention for the years I’ve been doing this, you know what I mean. You know these kinds of places are neglected, dining space-wise; materially complacent. Historically, kitschy, and that is part of their charm. But, Bud’s is, for better or for worse, realistic. Its focus, in regards to its design, is humility and Eastern European trifles hanging on walls, complimented by newspaper clippings, very old nature photography, and even older business cards of the photographer who took the nature photography on the wall. Is this kitsch? The young guy wearing a tuque resting just above his hairline, thick-framed glasses, rolled up jeans, and Doc Marten’s may say so. So may his friend wearing the ill-fitting tweed plaid smoking jacket. Oh yes, they were there, delusionally thinking their breakfast was some sort of anti-gourmet gourmet. But I say Bud’s is just old. It can’t be bothered by its appearance; that’s trivial, and its cooks, two women- no doubt family- need to survive. It’s clean, and it runs exceptionally smoothly. That’s all that matters. Not that it looks like a Canadian Legion banquet hall; not that its tableware is all mixed up; not that you help yourself over and over to coffee that gives you the shivers. No. Its selling point, as far as I’m concerned, is its cheap breakfast (a hangover’s wet you-know-what), and its great service.
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Bud’s Restaurant seems like something sort of forgotten, neglected through time, and left alone by culinary modernity. It’s another breakfast place. Okay, it’s another breakfast and lunch place. And it has that dynamic of self-entitlement. If you’ve been paying attention for the years I’ve been doing this, you know what I mean. You know these kinds of places are neglected, dining space-wise; materially complacent. Historically, kitschy, and that is part of their charm. But, Bud’s is, for better or for worse, realistic. Its focus, in regards to its design, is humility and Eastern European trifles hanging on walls, complimented by newspaper clippings, very old nature photography, and even older business cards of the photographer who took the nature photography on the wall. Is this kitsch? The young guy wearing a tuque resting just above his hairline, thick-framed glasses, rolled up jeans, and Doc Marten’s may say so. So may his friend wearing the ill-fitting tweed plaid smoking jacket. Oh yes, they were there, delusionally thinking their breakfast was some sort of anti-gourmet gourmet. But I say Bud’s is just old. It can’t be bothered by its appearance; that’s trivial, and its cooks, two women- no doubt family- need to survive. It’s clean, and it runs exceptionally smoothly. That’s all that matters. Not that it looks like a Canadian Legion banquet hall; not that its tableware is all mixed up; not that you help yourself over and over to coffee that gives you the shivers. No. Its selling point, as far as I’m concerned, is its cheap breakfast (a hangover’s wet you-know-what), and its great service.
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Daryl, my culinary Sherpa, experienced with the breakfast genre, knew the place did breakfast properly. The setup was organized and the service quick. Yes, the charming cook pounded on the grill with irons like nobody’s business, and our meals: peameal bacon, hash browns, eggs, and toast, came to us as soon as we sat down, even in a place that was surprisingly full for something so seemingly unknown, unless of course, you consider its regulars- whom naturally praised the place when we told them we were first timers, even though, they admitted, eating it every day would someday give them a heart attack. Yes, our meals were greasier than Olivia Newton John and Travolta (thanks, Daryl), but customers didn’t seem to let that stop them. If the breakfast wasn’t for them, there were the steak sandwiches, or the homemade cabbage soup bubbling away in a Crock-Pot not a foot away from the register, greedily bowled by the older crowd. And the steady pace of people coming in didn’t stop. Daryl and I concluded that people must love the place not because of the price, but because of the food, and the two women running it, bringing extra toast to a crowd of men moaning in gratitude when brought to the table, patting me on the back when collecting my plate, greeting every single person that came in with a thick, cheery hello. My bacon may have seemed off at first bite, my hash browns saturated in grease, and my eggs tasting like everything from the grill, but the shear sibilation made Bud’s a joy to visit and sit down in, even if once. It’s as up there with every other backdoor breakfast place in town. Convenience may be the only deciding factor, or a little curiosity. All I know is that ‘I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence.’
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Bud's Restaurant
519-743-0322
219 Louisa,
KITCHENER, ON
N2H 5M6
219 Louisa,
KITCHENER, ON
N2H 5M6
Mon-Sat 8am-2pm
Sun 9am-2pm
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