(Technically, they only have one door, but you gotta respect the metaphor.)
Sugar Cafe has been open at the corner of Queen & Shaw for the past 8 years. We started going there about 7 years ago, and it has been far and away our favourite brunch spot in Toronto since our first visit (and knowing us, that is saying something). Everything about it. The owner (the beautiful and charming Susanne), the people who worked there (Danyiel, quite possibly the best server in the city), the menu, the atmosphere, the chocolates that accompanied every order of coffee…
In a city where every menu has a muesli, they had the hands-down best. Their seasonal fruit was actually both seasonal and real fruit. N’er a melon in sight. The muesli was full of berries and peaches and all things sweet and juicy. (Memo to all brunch spots: no one wants melon when they go out for breakfast. No one. If there is a melon-loving populus, they number far too insignificantly to dictate the toppings of the many.)
Their German hot chocolate was redonculously decadent. They served the much-loved Petit Déjeuner (brie, jam, hardboiled egg, ancient grains toast, yogurt with preserves), and the most coveted french toast in the city. They made wicked good lattes, had mimosa casually listed with the juices, and introduced the EF to Americanos (which changed his coffee palate forever).
It was one of those places that was good in every season. With a postage stamp treasure of a patio out back, naturally shaded in the summer, and a blaze of leaves in the fall.
The restaurant’s decor reflected Susanne’s German home, with a quietly European atmosphere. When we bought our dining room table, the choice was not only influenced, but modeled on our favourite table at Sugar (“you know, like the table at Sugar, the big reclaimed worn wood one, with the elbow divot…”).
It was warm and comfortable, open and bright and eclectic but cohesive. And it all worked because of the warmth of the people behind it, and the simple deliciousness of what they had on offer.
It may sound overly melancholy to get worked up over the closing of a restaurant, but independent stores and eateries are what give your neighbourhood its flavour. They are part of what define your sense of place. And losing one that is close to you, especially in an urban centre, is like waking up to find that one of the rooms in your house is suddenly sealed off, and you can never go in there again. For several years, we trotted out Sugar as an example of what was so great about where we lived. We were able to point to it back when our strip was mostly populated by used appliance stores, and crowned with the “Stardust lounge”.
We found out over the past couple of days just how much that was reciprocated. We showed up early this morning to ensure we would get a table, only to find a sign on the door saying they were opening at 11 today (a nod to Nuit Blanche). So we decided to wait with a coffee around the corner. But we only got as far as the street corner, before I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Susanne — who had seen us gone by, and run out to make sure we were coming back. Would we like to come in and have a coffee with her while we wait for it to ‘officially’ open?
So we managed to steal the better part of an hour in a private empty version of one of our favourite places in the city. Sitting at the bar with our latte and americano (and chocolates, of course), chatting with Susanne about what it was like to run Sugar, and what was to come. Getting to know her a little better, and making that final connection. She even had a card for us (addressed to me, as she only knew the EF, accurately, as “Americano w. glasses”). Fortunately, we had a card for her too — featuring a postcard she had made up years ago, that we liked so much it has survived multiple ‘simplifyings’ of what we leave stuck to our fridge. Which brought on one of many rounds of hugs.
I’m good with goodbyes and while I say “I hate change” as often as anyone (maybe a little more), in practice I’m actually good with that as well. Everything has its time and everything ends. We got to say goodbye properly, and that’s all you can fairly cross your fingers and toes for.
A last sip of latte, a square of chocolate for the road, and years of good memories.
