The Bloordale Pantry [CLOSED]
The Bloordale Pantry
1285 Bloor Street West (at Lansdowne)
Date of Visit: Sept 22, 2012
Brunch at The Bloordale Pantry came about on recommendation by Chef Steve Hornostaj (formerly at King West Kitchen, now at Modus). He
raved about the Pantry’s use of fresh local produce, and declares it one of the few places he actually dines at.
The Bloordale Pantry features daily specials based on available local ingredients, and change up their specials pretty often. The Farmer’s Breakfast, Pumpkin Spice Pancakes, and Avocado Lemonade had rotated into the menu just recently, and were all getting great responses.
We hopped in at 10am on Saturday morning, just when the doors opened. By the time we were seated with menus, the place was 80% full. The service is comfortable and you never feel rushed, despite a gathering line-up by 11:30am.
There are lots of little trinkets around the restaurant, including this angry guy. Clearly didn’t get his morning coffee. Incidentally, folks around the table really enjoyed the coffees at the Pantry, but I didn’t have a chance to partake.
The back wall has more knickknacks, including tiny glass bottles of Coke.
The Farmer’s Breakfast ($16) consisiting of eggs, bacon, chili, salad, potatos, and crusty country bread. They’re not messing around – this platter is huge. Great sunny-side up eggs with crispy edges, crisp thick montreal bacon, firm potato hashbrowns. Solid all-around.
A pair of corn tortillas chips with wild boar chili, with shredded cheddar and beans. Can’t say that the boar was very distinct, but the
meat was more substantial than run-of-the-mill ground beef chilis.
Fresh veggie salad, including radishes. Just good fresh produce, and the radishes weren’t bitter at all. Yes, this was all on the one big plate.
The pumpkin spice pancakes were on special, and everyone else around the table were raving about them. They only come around
during autumn, so get them while you can.
Definitely a great place for a hearty breakfast brunch, especially after a late Friday/Saturday night and you’re roused out of bed by a growling alarm clock tummy.