Dated: August 31, 2019
We started the morning off with a ByWard Market visit.
Pavilion vendors had long shuttered by the time we had pulled in late the previous afternoon, so the arrival of sunny, blue skies was our opportunity to peruse the market's very own food court, numerous produce stalls, and several independent artist booths.
Pavilion vendors had long shuttered by the time we had pulled in late the previous afternoon, so the arrival of sunny, blue skies was our opportunity to peruse the market's very own food court, numerous produce stalls, and several independent artist booths.
BeaverTails boasted a lengthy lineup that hadn't been present the previous night. This lineup extended into the afternoon, and even late into the evening hours; a winding crowd persisted each time we passed by.
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There were no purchases made at the market, despite stopping at the sights of mini yellow watermelon and potato bread.
To satisfy the yearn for breakfast, we walked into Zak's Diner upon catching glimpse of its old-school diner furnishing.
To satisfy the yearn for breakfast, we walked into Zak's Diner upon catching glimpse of its old-school diner furnishing.
After making our way through the double doors, a pair of elderly women in pasty white pixie cuts turned to me. "Excusez." One of the two uttered.
My brows furrowed, my mouth agape. I had no idea how to respond, for I was not standing in their way. The lady changed to English with snooty French undertones, "Excuse." and mumbled something along the lines of allowing "elders" in first. This statement further added to my confusion, since she spoke as if I had purposely accelerated to overtake them. But I had merely walked up to a door - one out of the thousands I've opened in my lifetime - and propelled myself through in the name of obtaining sustenance.
My brows furrowed, my mouth agape. I had no idea how to respond, for I was not standing in their way. The lady changed to English with snooty French undertones, "Excuse." and mumbled something along the lines of allowing "elders" in first. This statement further added to my confusion, since she spoke as if I had purposely accelerated to overtake them. But I had merely walked up to a door - one out of the thousands I've opened in my lifetime - and propelled myself through in the name of obtaining sustenance.
A crowd had assembled by the entrance, which we interpreted as a wait longer than necessary. Perusing the menu, there were zero entries piquing curiosity; the obnoxious, sky-high prices were what had me slightly taken back.
The intent had been to find more unique breakfast options elsewhere, but we were quickly running out of time. As we continued northbound, one of the pub menus caught our attention. On it featured "black pudding". And if you're aware of my fondness for the SORTED crew, you'll know that I'm not the type to easily pass up an opportunity for outlandish English fare.
The intent had been to find more unique breakfast options elsewhere, but we were quickly running out of time. As we continued northbound, one of the pub menus caught our attention. On it featured "black pudding". And if you're aware of my fondness for the SORTED crew, you'll know that I'm not the type to easily pass up an opportunity for outlandish English fare.
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Heart & Crown was a larger restaurant than we imagined. It housed a total of three patio entrances, and it just so happened that we passed by one. Rather than being seated on the patio though, we opted for a table indoors - specifically one that preserved a sunny perspective of outside occurrences. The booths in the sports-viewing lounge corresponded to this description.
Irish pubs were frequent in the neighbourhood, so the impromptu dining decision wasn't completely impetuous. The assortment on offer included English-style breakfasts in addition to the typical Fish & Chips and beer. Topping the list was the H&C Irish Breakfast, which entailed elements such black pudding and baked beans, nabbing my attention from the get-go.
We resolved for just that, as well as the eggs benedict-containing option of The Irish.
Coffee from Lavazza was served, scalding. Despite the name being a familiar sight back home, I can't say I've been bestowed with the opportunity for trial, especially with more cafés in the core than able to count. The cup was sufficiently tasty with the addition of cream. Its untouched (black) status cannot be confirmed, but the inclusion of a creamer definitely benefitted the overall profile.
We resolved for just that, as well as the eggs benedict-containing option of The Irish.
Coffee from Lavazza was served, scalding. Despite the name being a familiar sight back home, I can't say I've been bestowed with the opportunity for trial, especially with more cafés in the core than able to count. The cup was sufficiently tasty with the addition of cream. Its untouched (black) status cannot be confirmed, but the inclusion of a creamer definitely benefitted the overall profile.
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Presented in a cast iron skillet, the H&C Irish Breakfast comprised of two eggs (sunny side-up for our prefrences), sausage, black pudding, roasted potato gratin, tomato slices, baked beans, sautéed mushrooms, a potato scone, toast, and a handful of fresh fruit. The sausage was extremely crispy, obnoxiously so, and the eggs decent. Crowned the "highlight" of the dish, I had expected the black pudding to bear similarities to soondae. Unfortunately, it was neither firm nor contained rice noodles for structure. Tacky and gamey was the general consensus. Its soft consistency definitely caught me off guard, along with the peculiar stringiness.
Fresh fruit was a wonderful touch. The baked beans, on the other hand, were mushy and far from flavourful, landing them in the presumably pre-packaged category (otherwise known as cans).
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At two dollars less, the Irish was not a huge departure from your regular toast-and-eggs combo. Available soft and medium, the poached eggs were executed to a satisfactory runniness. The rashers - Ireland's term for bacon - landed between America's favourite crispy artery-clogger and Canada's plush peameal. Dubliner Cheddar cheese was apparently also part of the lineup, but essentially nonexistent and not nearly as melty to pair with the baguette slices. Again, the fruit pineapple and orange slices were thoroughly enjoyed.
View the full album HERE !
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An aspect the restaurant failed to address was general hygiene. I can forego the dwindling efficiency as the dining area gained a few more patrons, nonetheless, the gigantic flies in the bathroom downstairs was inadmissible.
A few independent retailers later, we found Bridgehead Coffee. The fair trade coffeehouse was spotted at several instances during our stay; its main selling point was exclusivity on Ottawa grounds.
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Instead of coffee, I was persauded into an Iced Matcha Vanilla Latte with Oat Milk - the, dare I say, preposteriously pretentious Barista Drink of the Week. The staff were friendly but fairly slow (literally and figuratively), and the drink was disappointing.
I suppose there was an incident irked me more than I'd like to admit, as the exchange resulting in greatest impact was:
"Oh, I charged you for a Medium. Is that okay?"
No. That's not okay. Who would ask such a thing?
But the cashier had already processed the payment and even offered to remake the latte should I not be completely content. I returned the counter some few minutes later to request an additional dump of matcha to cut my losses.
I suppose there was an incident irked me more than I'd like to admit, as the exchange resulting in greatest impact was:
"Oh, I charged you for a Medium. Is that okay?"
No. That's not okay. Who would ask such a thing?
But the cashier had already processed the payment and even offered to remake the latte should I not be completely content. I returned the counter some few minutes later to request an additional dump of matcha to cut my losses.
Au contraire, the 2-for-$25 beans were a swell purchase. Full Medium roasts hailing from Uganda and Peru, I was guaranteed a plentiful palette for at-home cold brew. While Uganda was a tad smoky for my liking, Peru had me head over heels with its rich blend of chocolatey, citrus notes. Nevertheless a delicious duo, I would repurchase from Bridgehead even at a moment's notice.
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Read Part 2 HERE !
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