Out & About #645 | Cove Bronte + Bronte Harbour

Bearing the stereotypical Executive personality, I've always held a firm stance on rules and rewards, that prizes stem from hard work, that gains are proportional to the amount of effort exerted, and that freedom is not a right but a privilege. The pandemic has stripped many of a stable lifestyle, whether that be in the form of an occupation (financial freedom), an unmasked jog around the block (physical freedom), or the mere act of interacting with others within an arm's length (social freedom).

Halton Region had proceeded to Stage 2 as a result of comprehensive compliance, and for the first time since the outbreak, I stepped foot into a restaurant with the intention of residing longer than ten minutes. Moreover, I'd be ingesting sustenance in the presence of another human - one that neither shared the same household nor the same familial circle. Even the sheer contemplation was baffling.

Cove had been selected as the lunch destination of choice for our annual summer get-together. Eateries equipped with patios aren't common sightings in the burbs, though spaces along the waterfront are generally your best bet.

To provide peace of mind, OpenTable had included a new section detailing the safety precautions declared by the restaurant. ​And upon my arrival, it was observed that tables had indeed been arranged to respect physical distancing. Arrows instructing guest flow had also been taped to the floor; there was a distinct one-way path to guide patrons to their table, to bathroom facilities, then out the back door as an egress point. In the washroom, a bottle of disinfectant was spotted near the sinks, though its intended function missing in action. Stalls were compact and offered less than 2 metres of maneuver room; given this, a sign restricting entry numbers would have been deemed fitting. Menus were tackier than preferred, but majority of waitstaff bore face masks.

View the full album HERE !

​I had ascended the stairs to the covered patio first, then immediately seated and provided with warm water (because tap water can be concerning in current circumstances). With the arrival of my long-time dining partner, we quickly relayed items of interest off the menu to our waitress, who, might I add, was exceptional. Friendly, helpful, and attentive in the appropriate capacities, she was an indisputable element in our collective enjoyment of the experience.

​The setting was gorgeous - one could not possibly deny the charm of a waterfront view on a balmy summer afternoon. Further elevating the appeal were the abundance of natural illumination, beachhouse-like wooden furnishings and white walls, and the shrubbery that encased it all (both artificial and genuine).
Monica Bellucci and a refreshing, zesty White Sangria kept us content until the arrival of four warm plates.

In terms of gustatory provisions, I did not believe there to be standout dish. While delicious, the Octopus and accompanying herb salad were of a meager portion given its price. And as per my recollection of 7 Enoteca, octopus has the potential to be rendered even more tender, with its edges even crispier. The Mussels were on the smaller side as well, although I probably should not compare to east coast expeditions. That said, the white wine and garlic butter sauce was definitely worth noting, unlike a certain New Brunswick establishment.

​Blackened Catfish had been my pick, interest piqued from the mentions of avocado crema and the imagery of a charred, flaky fillet. The aspect that the description had failed to mention, though, was the astounding amount of salt rub and fiery chili oil drizzle whose potent properties could be neutralized by neither the sweet corn salsa nor smooth swipe of avo.
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The Togarashi Beef Sandwich was surprisingly milder in comparison. Albeit far from our conception of "very rare", the sandwich boasted a rather tasteful cross-section. Soft, fluffy brioche, crunchy alfafa sprouts, and tart pickled peaches succeeded in providing a combination of varying accents and textures. The fries, noted to be completely crafted in-house, slotted themselves at the softer end of the spectrum and proved greasier than briny - something that was easily resolved with the assistance of good ol' Heinz (packets instead of the bottle for minimal contact).

​At one point of the meal, I was questioned by an older member of staff the purpose behind my "big camera", since smartphone cameras were more commonplace. The reasoning seemed straightforward enough to me: quality and control. I struggled to formulate a well-worded reply, for the response remained exhibited unwavering confusion. The intentions of said waitstaff's statement had likely been benign, yet I couldn't help but walk away from the encounter with flashbacks of the scarring treatment (and later absolutely spiteful remarks) received from My Dog Joe/Paisley several years ago.

​We bid our farewells a little after 2:30 PM, at which point I began to roam Bronte Harbour.

​Between trickling droplets of perspiration, I found a sense of tranquility in the scene before my eyes. Sweltering as it was, the skies were stunning, as were the continuous aqua ripples of the lake.

​Dining out and patio talks hadn't previously been an activity I treasured so dearly, but the arrival of COVID has led me to consider otherwise.

​I am thankful towards those who have shown compassion and understanding in the face of uncertainty. For humans are dynamic creatures, amiable relationships are as susceptible to change as those that constitute them.

For my fellow July baby, I prepared a tri-layer (tri? tetra? penta?) Chocolate Peanut Butter Mousse Cheesecake, materializing my profound appreciation into a tangible source of sustenance. Being the Executive who prioritizes action over abstract imagination doesn't necessarily correspond to deft craftsmanship, unfortunately, and the wonky cream cheese frosting bulbs were a reflection of this clumsiness.
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Nonetheless, positive feedback was derived at its time of consumption, and for that, I am glad.