The Palmerston Café
800 Dundas Street West
416-361-3333
Complete meal for two with all taxes, tip and cocktails: $80
Nestled at an unassuming corner of Dundas and Palmerston, the diminutive Palmerston Café is ushering in its second summer. Unbeknownst to my dining companion and I at the time of arrival, the café is in a state of flux. Management is busy renovating the basement to accommodate a lounge area in the hopes of attracting a lucrative nighttime crowd. Though half the patio is one gigantic open hole, surrounded by plywood and safety netting, the regulars hardly seem to notice as they sip vibrantly-coloured smoothies and frothy cappuccinos on their unencumbered, awning-shaded swath of concrete.
We opt for a seat inside the window-filled café rather than overlooking the patio eyesore. Inside is sleek, with touches of stainless steel, tiled backsplashes and blood red walls peppered with heavy floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Our side of the café houses a gelato freezer containing a selection of smoothie fruit, while the section closer to the kitchen is flanked by a prepared foods takeout counter.
Perusing the menu, I am pleased to find the semi-scarce mint julep ($10). I order posthaste as my guest chooses a mojito ($9). Excited as I am to find a favourite tipple, my ebullience wanes once I see how long it takes the server to prepare the drinks. It's clear they don't make either very often as she stumbles behind the bar, fumbling for ingredients. Despite all that, when cocktails are finally in hand, they are optimally balanced, not overly strong, and topped with some of the freshest, greenest mint sprigs I've ever seen.
Service is perfunctory in that typical, Euro-café sort of way, and it isn't until drinks are plonked down (nearly 25 minutes after we arrive) that we are asked whether we want food. The menu, comprised of light Italian fare includes salads, antipasti, paninis and stone-baked thin crust pizzas served for both lunch and early dinnertime, while a separate card details weekend brunch options. My companion is staunchly traditional and orders bruschetta ($8) and margherita pizza ($12). I foray into slightly unfamiliar territory with homey, panzanella (bread) salad ($8), and an intriguing fazzoletto sandwich with greens ($12).
Aside from the throng of patrons occupying the patio, we are the only customers inside the blissfully quiet café. Waiting for our meal, we are entertained by the faint sounds of classic rock drifting through the room, including a breathy Stevie Nicks tune and some showboating Rolling Stones. Sipping cocktails and humming along to the music, it's almost possible to forget where we are on this sun-dappled afternoon.
I am snapped out of my reverie when our server sets down the first of our plates, one panzanella, the other my friend's pizza. Slightly confused, we explain we both ordered appetizers and entrées, and are assured they will all be out shortly. Trying to finesse the gargantuan plates on the microscopic, marble-topped bistro table proves difficult, so we overtake the adjoining table to gain extra space. My panzanella is massive for an appetizer, with sliced cucumbers, bursting cherry tomatoes, basil leaves, red onion shreds and shards of crostini. The plate is also garnished with two superfluous slices of bread so sharp and dry it cuts the roof of my mouth. The salad is enjoyable mostly due to the quality tomatoes, but could use a more assertive dressing, as the red wine vinaigrette is insipid and thin.
My counterpart's pizza, while delightfully chewy, is not made in the thin crust style and is closer to a centimetre and a half thick. It also lacks the delicate balance of ingredients required to truly be referred to as a margherita, but as a cheese pizza it works quite well. The small mound of olives in the centre of the pie seem out of place and serve no purpose other than to annoy non-olive eaters. Though not particularly authentic, it does prove satisfying when taken in an homage context, being heavy with cheese and light on tomatoes and basil.
Next up is my main and the missing app, and at this point our plethora of dishes spans two tables. The bruschetta is a glorious bite of summer, eschewing cheese in favour of simplicity with pungent garlic, succulent tomatoes, crisp red onions and chiffonades of basil.
The fazzoletto, billed as roasted chicken (veggie available), goat cheese and vinaigrette-dressed greens folded into a stone-baked pizza crust is large enough to feed two, and comes sided with more mixed salad. Biting into one half, I am struck by the combination of flavours at play. The goat cheese is delectably creamy and mild, without any hint of tanginess, while the chicken is expertly roasted, retaining a great deal of moisture. Dressed with a squirt of the same red wine vinaigrette, it somehow seems thicker and more viscous in this sandwich than in the panzanella. The crust-wrap is whimsical at first, but quickly becomes an appetite-ruining novelty due to it's dominant heaviness. By the time I am finished, I still have half a wrap and most of the salad left to take home, a sure sign that portions are a little too large.
The fortitude of the dishes means we have no room left for dessert, but it matters not. Currently the only options available are a few assorted muffins, croissants and pastries, none of which tickle our fancy. The Palmerston Café definitely has its strengths, but unfortunately it also has misses. With such a selection of dining options in the area, I'd probably wait until their construction phase is over before attempting to return.
Porsha Perreault is a freelance writer, voracious eater, amateur charcutier, and chocolate enthusiast living in Little Italy. She can often be found sourcing the newest developments in heirloom and heritage fruits and veg and other local delicacies at farmers' markets around Toronto.
