I am like the other 90% of the world – I have a giant appetite for anything sweet. Not overly-claw-your-eyes-out-sweet but something that has the right balance of sugar and cream to make it go goey in my mouth. Lately, I’ve been craving something different. I wasn’t sure what, really but I was aching to eat something that just completely blows my mind.
I had an appointment in this building in North York. It really is out of the way because when I was heading home and walked to the bus shelter, there was a sticker on the post that said “This route is not serviced Monday to Friday in the evenings, on weekends or on holidays” so you know this route just has buses to take people in during the work day and if you miss the last one, well, to be honest, you’re screwed.
Anyway, I was extremely early by some miracle, and had to figure out a way to burn time-about forty five minutes. I was nervous and the chaos around me was not helping my nerves. Think about it; the click of high heels against ceramic floors, the pinging and dinging of elevators coming and going, someone’s cell phone singing the theme song to Rawhide as he ignored it till the end while staring at the screen with an almost quizzical look on his face . Each time the glass doors open to allow someone inside, the sound of tires crunching wet earth beneath them with a mixture of rain would add to the other unattractive music of 250 Consumers Road.
Oh the absolute horror when all you can think of his how scared you are of what was to come.
My relief came in the form of a tiny sign on a little stand that said the specials of the day for “Cafe 250“ I expected a kind of hole-in-the ground type deal with coffee in white Styrofoam cups and the
like. I followed the hall until it opened into this open space with the Cafe that completely threw me for a loop. First of all, the room was large, big enough to hold at least 80 people. It had the seating area to the left containing neat rows of seating, either four or two to a table and in a quaint, comfortable looking sections were beautiful, black Leather sofa with a giant, flat screen television. I was pleasantly surprised.
The walls were black with red highlights and were adorned with some of the most beautiful paintings and photography I’ve seen in a cafe in a long time. In the seating area with the tables and chairs was a giant television playing softly. Aside from the kitchen area that could be seen by customers, which looked clean and inviting, the only other thing in the seating area were a couple of glass fridge exposing the goodies one could buy to drink. Though it was in a business complex kind of place, the view wasn’t as chaotic as everything else around.
I greeted the man behind the counter, who by the way was busy cooking on this large to-die-for stove that I’m pretty sure my mom would die to have. He was pleasant, smiling and very helpful. I asked for Peppermint tea and he pointed me in the direction. I picked up the last Premium Peppermint tea packet, and waited patiently while the man ahead of me stood in a position that blocked the lovely Cafe 250 tea and coffee mugs. He was busy dumping a sugar into his coffee. I stared, wide eyed, wondering how in the world he was going to drink that. Finally he stopped, stirred it, placed a cover on, thanked me for my patience and walked off. I set my tea up, handed it to the gentleman behind the counter and he filled it with water for me. I was on my way to pay for it when I saw these beautiful danish. My first thought was, if I bought one and it was horrible I would cry. It wasn’t like I could take it back and tell him it was horrible and get my money back. But I was starving.
So, I pointed and he laughed and said, “Danish?”
I grinned and nodded and he used a tong to place one in a plain, white, bakery bag for me. The prize an amazing $3.75 was another thing that surprised me. But the shocks didn’t end there. I stopped, added some sugar to my steaming hot tea, mixed it then found a seat, out of the way and sat down to eat, go over some French while I wait for time to pass for my appointment. From time to time I glanced up at the screen but I wasn’t really paying attention. I took a breath, pulled my danish from the paper bag and sunk my teeth into it like someone skydiving for the first time–held my breath while praying for the best and preparing for the worse.
It was still warm which said one thing – They baked it right there that morning. It wasn’t sitting in their case from the day before and they simple repackaged for sale. No, it was warm and soft and delicious. It turned into beautiful, gooey, sugar in my mouth. The pastry was soft and the cheese tasted as if it was a lightly sweetened kind of whipped cream. But trust me, it was cheese. I ate it, savouring the freshness, the warmth, the tinge of sweetness that made it oh so perfect. It was so good, after I finished that one, I ordered a second one (pictured above) for when I was finished with my appointment as a kind of pick-me-up.
Honestly, this is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth.
If you’re ever in Toronto and you have some time to burn, before you leave hitch a ride to Victoria Park station from there jump on the 24A bus and endure the trek to 250 Consumers. You will love the Danish there.
They serve food there as well as salads and the like. But I was just so into my Danish…