Our recent move out of Toronto and to the east along Highway 401 has meant that we are now 2 hours closer to Montreal, a distinct advantage. We decided to capitalize on this new proximity by leaving early in the morning and planning to stop – and eat – as many times we wanted to. This meant, of course, that what should have been a 3 and 1/2 hour trip turned into a 6 hour odyssey, but that’s okay. Even if our feasting was interrupted by the news that one of our dogs, left at home with a sitter, had developed an acute ear infection, we still managed to visit some old favourites and make some new ones.
Stop #1: Kingston
I’m sorry Kingston, but you’re just not one of my favourite cities. Don’t take it personally, but you’re just a little too, how do I say it…homogeneous for me. I know that nothing and nowhere is truly homogeneous and that surface homogeneity can hide deep diversity in populations. I mean, hey. Teaching this stuff is how I pay for the food I write about in this blog. But Kingston is a little too white bread for this white bread girl.
That being said, there’s some good food happening in that city. In the past, we’ve eaten at Chez Piggy, of course, and I’ve had some great pizza at Woodenheads, but last week, I had a delicious breakfast sandwich at a new spot: The Grocery Basket on Princess.
Because I refuse to grow up entirely, I still rarely bother to eat a proper breakfast. I will not argue your point that it is the most important meal of the day and I know that many of my friends and family are horrified when forced to witness my consumption of three cups of high-octane espresso with hot milk on an empty stomach, but that’s just the way I roll. I can’t even think of eating until I’ve been up for at least an hour, and if we’re talking about a full hot breakfast with eggs, toast, etc? You really have to give me a good three hours to work myself up to this kind of repast.
The result of this childish refusal to force myself to eat breakfast is that I am often ravenous by mid-morning. Because I often wake up before 6 am, 10:30 am feels like lunchtime and often, I need to either eat or commit homicide of one kind or another. By the time we hit Kingston last week, I was ready to chew off Greg’s arm and eat it for a snack; thus, in order to avoid personal offence to his personal body, he tried to take us for breakfast at a diner in Odessa.
Somehow, we missed Odessa entirely. Don’t ask me how this happened. It’s not a significant town.
However, we did manage to find Kingston as it is a fairly large inhabited site. We parked (read: screeched to a halt on Princess Street and leapt out, searching for anywhere, anywhere at all, that would serve breakfast and a decent cup of joe now) and walked directly into the sign for The Grocery Basket. Although our order at the counter took a little longer than my hunger-frazzled nerves would have liked, the breakfast sandwich I received was delicious: soft and crispy pain perdu encasing gruyere cheese, egg, and some local double-smoked bacon. My better self wanted to offer half of the sandwich to Greg, who ordered something lighter and smaller (a yogurt parfait. Seriously. I mean, dude! We’re on vacation. Have something real to eat.) but I consumed that thing so fast, there was no time for anyone else to test it out. I think, in the end, he did get a corner of the final bit, if memory serves, but it was a very, very small corner.
I do not have a photo of my sandwich as I am extremely sheepish about taking photos of food in public. Sometimes I am moved to overcome this phobia, but in this case, I was just far too hungry.
Next up: Stop #2: Gananoque and the Socialist Pig!