The mascot of midwinter Café Falco?

Resolutions mean nothing to me.  But quiet is a resolute panacea.  I’ve given up a few things this month to make room for meditation, drawing, reading and the occasional blustery foray into the few hours of sunshine that we get in January times.

No sex.  No music, television, alcohol, meat, sugar, diet soda, dancing, makeup/jewellery, staying up late, harsh words, daydreaming, the like.  No chaos.

Where I could explain to you in detail the how-it-works of the siphon drip system that Café Falco offers and the origins of it’s countless artisanal accoutrements, I will instead impress upon you that what’s truly important is the expression of inventive serenity that it all adds up to.  It’s hidden in an industrial part of Mile End, the ground floor of an imposing, grey-striked building with an uneventful front and a dubious entrance door.  The inside reveals, though.  Probably one of the nicest places to experience the dead of winter – the warmth and precision of the homespun / futurespun cube-space sets off the snow and slate-sided buildings from across the street well – and really, how better to appreciate the human creation of windows and walls than with hot hands cupped around one of the best kitten-smooth coffees in the neighbourhood?  Stronger than the usual but still long (ie: not espresso), like coffee should be (to this non-European, anyway).

Falco also offers repast for those wanting a bit of gentleness and brown rice to hopefully negate greasy memories.  A chalk menu lists the Japanese/French fare – rice bowls with tofu or meat, sticky onigiri, miso soup, salads, sandwiches on fresh bread from nearby Boulangerie Guillaume and sweet things (muffins etc) from the same place.

sweet potato salad flecked with tiny onion + syphon コーヒー

The miso soup was perfect.  A cup of energetic stillness, made with a proper dashi and sipped from from a dark umbre bowl.  The rice and tofu dish is the kind of thing that I used to eat while vegan, each element (carrots, tofu and lentils) carefully dressed and seasoned individually.  While it’s hard to handle with chopsticks for the exact reasons mentioned here – maybe that’s just a clue to either work more patiently on one’s eating technique, or perhaps use the broth from the soup to clean the last few grains from the bowl as monks do.

The most surprisingly delicious thing was the onigiri – made with sticky soft rice and filled with chunks of sweet salmon – it was a delicate but un-shy example of the form.  It’s not something very difficult to make, but making them this well is rare, and I really should go back to try the others.  I think there were 3 or 4 varieties that day.

There’s a hammock in the corner and shelves of thin brown pottery, sculptures, a falcon, globe lanterns and a happy-looking staff.  Few private tables, but then, we’re all eating next to each other anyway when we go out to that third place, might as well be neighbourly about it.  And peaceful.

(lunch for one, with siphon coffee, rice bowl, soup and onigiri = 16$.  Pricey, but organic and very good)

Café le Souvenir brightens a Sunday morning….

It was a pretty freaking disgusting Sunday that just past.  From the fog of my bathroom window, pre-glasses and weary, I almost even thought that the mottled wet pavement pattern on the street was a thin sheet of newfallen snow.

Thank Jack Frost it wasn’t that – I might have seriously just figured out how to knit myself feety pajamas right then and there, and not left the comfort of my own bed until I’d cocooned myself into a nice tea + geeky sci-fi oblivion for the whole day.  It was CLOSE to that bad, but it turned into a good excuse to break out the basic black woollens and trudge with an empty belly and a caffeine addiction towards Cafe le Souvenir, in the hopes that it would be what every brunch should be : relaxed, slightly oily, filled with eggy savourishness, bottomless coffee, and copious amounts of fruit.

We arrived and came upon: the Line!  Yes, indeed this place is popular, and I feel terrible for the table right next to the door.  Not only at the mercy of jostling unfed types, but the draft was a bit chilly.  They seemed obliviously happy with their stringy benedicty dish and warm potatoes, however, which distracted me from thoughts of sympathy and turned my head to selfish wants of bbbbrrrreakfast!!!! and now.  Luckily it only took 15 minutes, plus 5 to actually get a seat at a table (and not the bar).

We were offered espresso and turned them to allongées.  (transformo!).  We ordered 2 mimosas (11$) and received a vial of fresh squeezed OJ and a sparkling German dry white, and turned ThoSE into happy bubbly morning drinks.  (TRANSFORMO AGAIN!).  The menu was long and nothing was breaking the proverbial envelope, but it all sounded pretty good and I’d heard good things, so I ordered a benedict florentine on rye bread (13$) with smoked salmon (+3$), and Cloudy got 2 slices of french toast with fruit and whipped cream and cheddar (11$).  The food came fast, and the eggs were hot, and they did a little clever thing by baking the eggs in the hollondaise and laying a blanket of melted nondescript white cheddar-type cheese on top, so they stayed hot while I wondered where on earth my smoked salmon was!  Our server was super nice about that oversight, though, and while it took a while in coming, it was a big ol’ bowl of it, and we discovered our new favourite combo.    smoked salmon + FRENCH TOAST YOU GUYS.  omg.  omg.  a salty sweet buttery confection duo written in the stars.  Add drizzles of real maple syrup for extra points (Le Souvenir gives you a bottle at the table!).  I guess I have to admit I wanted my first eggs benedict experience to be those silly little perky orbs with the yellow sauce blanket, but it was a tradeoff for a perfect poach, I suppose.  It turned into a dunking dish for toast!  I liked that.  The french toast was eggy and fluffy and cooked to custardy perfection, and the fruit alongside was fresh and plentiful and even included mango, yay.  Nomming ensued.

Filled up and chatted up, we left to pay and noticed an awesome – they didn’t charge us for the salmon and one of the coffees.  Good show, that’s a perfect move.  They were also really friendly and we didn’t feel rushed despite the lines.  I think I subconsciously felt rushed in the lively setting, but it wasn’t at their cue, and a bloke sitting beside us sat alone at a table nursing a graphic novel and a coffee for our breakfast’s duration undisturbed.

I will be honest.  If you’re the type that questions the value of paying someone else to make eggs and toast for you, le Souvenir won’t change your mind based on the food.  But the atmosphere is something to be experienced and a great way to spend a rainy Sunday!  It’s an essential local hang, and a cheery place and it definitely, definitely, beat the rainy blues away. :)