The sandwich is sublime, and memorable, without an ounce of try-hard. Like my favourite shirt, I could eat it every day of the week, but instead break it out with the infrequency to keep it special.
This sandwich, for me, will always be a classic. It's effortless, yet impressive. Simple, while still totally indulgent. It's a laid back, unpretentious grilled cheese, with sophistication. Like the sandwich equivalent of linen. It's also a top shelf idea for any occasion, any company. It's my take on a sandwich I used to order all the time at my favourite food spot in Toronto. On lazy days, or days, I would head out across Trinity Bellwoods park, visit the small galleries down the Ossington strip, then hang a left, and head for my favourite park-adjacent brunch hangout. It's got a classic, 50s diner layout, but none of the kitch. It boasts an all teak bar, with crystal glassware shelved behind, a vintage beverage fridge, and an open-air oyster icebox. The booths are small and intimate, each with a tall coat stand, that serves as a canopy in the cold months, with so many coats. The menu is short, and very carefully chosen. It's the kind of place I couldn't afford at night, but my friends and I used to frequent the brunch menu. We'd get a few dishes, share them around. It's simple food, done with an instinctual flourish. My favourite was their grilled cheese with bartlett pear, served with a chilli tomato compote, and a side of olives. It was a ritual I'd do when I needed out of a funk, or any time I'd have an out of town visitor. That, and a walk back through the park, could cure anything.
