Posted by Paul Wernick in bistros, restaurant review on April 5, 2007 at 7:33 am

Kaffeehaus Konditor
1856 Queen Street East
416-693-7997
Desserts for two with specialty coffee, all taxes and tip - $22

I feel inferior as I stand outside the Kaffeehaus Konditor, a Viennese-style café on Queen Street East. Everything about me demonstrates inferiority. My bald spot radiates failure. My faded coat smells of stale sweat and Beefoghetti. My shifting eyes and furtive expression indicate a man of physical and mental degeneracy, a man unworthy to consume the “world’s best” apple strudel. This is as it should be though.

Ah yes, Vienna. Athens is the cradle of democracy; Dayton is the birthplace of aviation; Corbin, Kentucky gave the world Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC). But from Vienna emerged psychoanalysis. Freud and Jung and other pioneers of the human mind explored the darkest depths of the psyche there. In a Viennese kaffeehaus, one might sit where Sigmund Freud once mused about penis envy; or where, even more meaningfully to me, Alfred Adler expounded on the inferiority complex.

There’s a great intellectual and historical tradition in the kaffeehaus. If you are not crazy about psychoanalysts then you could still linger in a café where Trotsky planned the Russian Revolution, or Wagner composed Ride of the Valkyries. But this is Toronto, and perhaps the intellectual tradition isn’t as profound. Then again, Arnold Schwartzenegger and Hitler spent a lot of time in Vienna.

Two women are speaking German when I enter. This confirms the café’s authenticity but makes me nervous. The waiter seems to pick up on this. Is it my i-complex or does he look at me disdainfully, as though I would appreciate apple fritters more than apple strudels? No, it’s just me. Actually, he’s very convivial; but I still overcompensate, placing my order with an upper crust English accent: apple strudel (apfelstrudel) with vanilla custard and a melange. Melange is the classic kaffeehaus brew, a mixture of espresso, regular coffee and steamed milk. The apple strudel is proudly proclaimed to be the world’s best.

Konditor is a little too cramped to be described as gemütlichkeit (cozy, convivial) but the colour scheme is a comforting maroon and cream. Pictures of Hapsburg royalty recall the grand age of Empires and waltzing to the Blue Danube – before things got real ugly for Austria. There are the obligatory newspapers on a rack. In Vienna some cafés will spend thousands on newspaper subscriptions; patrons may nurse a coffee for hours and read undisturbed. Of course, many off these kaffeehauses are also in danger of bankruptcy.

A stupendous array of desserts is arranged in the counter, waiting to ravish the tongue. Konditor – it means ‘sugar baker’ – is run by Austrian-born pastry chef Burgi Riegler and her business partner Benedetta Stellino. Riegler boasts very impressive credentials. She trained with world champion strudel makers. And she learned to make the famed Sachertore, a chocolate cake with apricot filling - at its place of origin, the Hotel Sacher.

The strudel and melange arrive, served in the Viennese style with a glass of water – I’m not sure why – and a piece of chocolate. I don’t know if it’s the world’s best. My pastry reference level is too small to make a meaningful comparison. But this is definitely a superior strudel. It’s not achingly sweet; it contains Northern Spry apples, raisins, and spices. Vanilla custard calms my palpitating heart. The pastry itself is exquisitely delicate. No additives or artificial ingredients are ever used here. And sugar is replaced with honey where appropriate.

Making strudel dough is a difficult and time-consuming art. The dough must be stretched so thin, it is said, that you can read a love letter through it. For those who wish to make strudel pastry at home I have a word of advice: don’t. Or at least wait until Ms Riegler gives an outdoor demonstration in the summer.

Konditor is the destination in Toronto for expats seeking central-European cakes: Sachertorte, Linzertorte, and a Schwarzwalder Kirsh - Kirsh-soaked biscuit with chocolate mousse and cherries. You can also order a savoury lunch. There are interesting quiches and flecks, a sort of baked Austrian panzerotti. Konditor also provides sandwiches on baguettes and croissants. (Vienna can also take credit for the croissant. It’s an interesting, if suspect, story.) Of course, there’s good old Wiener schnitzel - served on a baguette with spicy mustard and tomato.

I ask the Austrian ladies how their apple strudel compares to the strudel of their native land. They are German, it turns out, and comment on it approvingly. They even take pictures of the café’s interior. I suggest they try apple fritters during their visit to Toronto, but am met with uncomprehending silence.

I take that as a cue to leave. My stomach is full. Gleaming, fabulously expensive condominiums loom over me. Once again, I feel small and inferior, unable to cope with the challenges of society. No, I won’t visit Austria. I fear the Vienna Boys' Choir will scream abuse at me.

But then the flavour of those apples returns, sweet, fragrant and warm in their vanilla sauce. I am ready to take on the world.