We all know to expect the dreaded Saturday brunch wait times. No quality restaurant is immune to the demands of the hungry hoards, myself included. I called ahead this optimistic Saturday morning to inquire regarding wait times. "25 minutes," I was told. Feverishly famished, I drove to the Cottage Cafe and placed my name on the list. "25 minutes," again, I was told. The sun was shining and the roar of Appleway Blvd could be echoed by the grumbling of my stomach. The exiting patrons hoisted their leftover takeout containers in the air for us to envy, my stomach rotted with jealousy. 25 minutes came and went. I entered the Cottage Cafe, pushing past the mob of malnourished patrons awaiting their turn to be seated, searching for a server to ask for an updated wait time.
"15 minutes," I was told.
Betrayal. My stomach snarled, the smell of flatcakes and syrup hung heavy in the air of the restaurant. The seated patrons looked at me piously, leisurely slicing ham and oozing maple syrup onto their grotesque plates of gluttony. My descent into envy was brief, sudden, and I rushed back onto the balcony to wait my promised fifteen minutes. I could not bear to wait inside while the smell of heavenly breakfast taunted me.
At fifteen minutes, again I entered. A new server saw my piercing gaze, and they hesitantly retreated behind the bar. I approached. Again, I asked "what is the wait time?"
"15 minutes," I was told.
My kidneys were failing, my brain turned foggy. Could it be? Had I been lied to? Was I a famished fool, a peckish pinhead? Again I left the restaurant to cower on the patio by appleway, the roar of passing traffic mocking me. This ravenous ridiculousness had consumed my morning, my party was left waiting for an hour. Preparing myself to leave, my pride badly bruised and my faith in the Cottage Cafe shattered, a server opened the door to the restaurant and shakily called my name.
Did my ears deceive me? Had my hunger, my zealous gluttony, at last consumed me? I asked her to repeat the name. Again, she said it. It was real. This was my moment.
We were seated hastily, each server having recognized my face from the numerous times I had asked for an accurate wait time. Coffee was poured promptly, orders taken hastily. The fear in their eyes was palpable, they knew they had lied to me. But why? Why not just tell me the wait time was an hour? I fear management must be telling the serving staff to give customers feeble hope. This is the reason I rated the Cottage Cafe 3 stars. I hope the owners can inform the servers that it is okay to be honest, I would prefer not to get my hopes up just to be made a fool waiting on the patio for an hour by traffic.
My stomach leapt from my chest upon sight of the plate bestowed in front me. The picturesque sandwich glistened in the light from butter and salt, bacon cooled on the wedges of avocado, and potato rounds glowed with godly glory.
At last, I feasted.
Thank you for reading, for taking this journey with me. You will not be disappointed in the food. 5/5 on flavor but 0/5 on the wait time lies. read more