There are moments that redefine comfort – those soothing snapshots in life where everything is simply wonderful, carefree – that fleeting moment we are not troubled by school yard bullies, bees, taxes, looming deadlines, angry relations and unmet expectations…
They come at unpredictable times. That sweet moment of placation when your mother scoops you out of a roll of thorny brambles, and hugs each imagined injury better… the joy of a first unexpected kiss… graduation day… a job offer… the Sunny horizon of retirement.
And the first sip of black coffee on a fragrant Spring morning…
…followed by a anticipatory nibble of a City’s great French toast.
Except it isn’t really French toast at all. It’s Challah toast from the one of my favorite bakeries – Bubby Roses on Cook Street near Meares Ave.
And as much as I would like to quantify the isotopes that make up this place – to return to that place at will and relive that peaceful, easy feeling…
I can’t.
But I have discovered that this particular bakery is as reliable as gravity when it comes to delivering the goods…
whether it’s fresh bread, or a flour-less chocolate torte, a vegan brownie or a cup of Java thick enough to stop time – and it often does…
or the Challah bread: sweet as love, drizzled with Canadian Maple syrup, anointed with organic yogurt and circled with a phalanx of mixed fresh fruits worthy of breakfast plate greatness.
Pucker up Baby, it’s Challah time!