Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Date: Saturday June 5, 2010
Time: 1:35 pm
Location: Mitzi’s Sister, 1554 Queen Street West
Companion: Dorelle, my mother, likes strong coffee, only eats carbs on the weekend, hadn’t had an eggs Benny in over ten years
The problem: Like painting, drawing, photography and the like, writing needs to be fuelled by inspiration. Food that excites, that makes me smile, that gives me joy can really get the creative juices flowing. Even the opposite; bad food, careless food, horrible experiences can make creating a breeze.
This morning, it has taken me 45 minutes to write this much.
Mitzi’s Sister has failed to inspire. Hell, the last couple of brunches have been so sub par that if I don’t have a good one soon, I won’t even be able to write my name.
More of a bar than anything else, this dive is pretty dumpy. The patio has that cute backyard deck thing going on and the tables in the front window are nice but the “stage” area at the back doesn’t say cuisine it screams cigarettes and guitars.
We sat in the window and I gave my mother the street view. She’s that person you dine with that always wants the banquette, the chair that doesn’t face the wall, the window seat, etc. I didn’t mind and in fact found it hilarious that she was getting so grossed out by Parkdale’s missing teeth and dirty long beards. You wanted the window...
The waitress suggested the eggs Benedict and bragged that their hollandaise was house made which should be a given not a selling feature but anyways, we ordered it. The sauce was as thick as Elmer’s glue. Gloopy and slightly waxy the sauce had the mouth feel of Crisco. There was a lemony kick to it but I couldn’t forgive the texture. I was happy to see a muffin instead of a biscuit (ahem, The Hoof Cafe) although the poor thing was barely toasted which resulted in a soggy base. The butter knife could barely cut through it. Throw in an over poached egg and you have a buffet type Benedict.
Mitzi’s serves brunch til 3 pm and so why would they make their home fries at 7 am? OK, that is an exaggeration but seriously, those little buggers were so not crispy. That’s what happens when potatoes just sit around after being cooked. They wrinkle, they dry out and sog up.
The ‘ultimate hangover sandwich’ had my name all over it. My stomach was turning from the previous night’s indiscretions and so I thought it was only fitting that I eat a fried egg and bacon sandwich. This one comes with kimchi. I assumed that was the “secret” weapon for fighting a hangover feeling because really, unless you are Korean, why would you eat cabbage that has been fermented in fish sauce for breakfast? A too generous amount of garlic mayo and toasted sour dough bread rounded out the sammy. The bacon must have been made when the potatoes were. It was dry and hard, tough to chew. Bacon jerky?
The best part of the brunch was that it worked. I walked out feeling much better. Whether it was the kimchi, the two mugs of tea or the great coffee, I am not sure and I can't say I will ever return but whatever it was, in that moment, I was grateful.