Editorial Review

Ah, the Mile End, where you stumble into a sleepy corner café looking for a cup of joe and get swept into a bohemian rhapsody. This neighborhood spot sings to the tune of art deco and stained glass, mismatched tables and chairs, healthy home-cooking and, of course, artistic angst. Poets and artists wield pencils and steaming bowls of café-au-lait. Dishes are named after once-starving artists. Le Basquiat, Le Warhol, Le Wood—all variations on bacon and eggs with fresh fruit and sweet potato home fries. Fresh lemon and ginger juice is like a glass of chutzpah. Thankfully, this place only teeters on the edge of granola-ville. Think hi-top sneakers, not Birkenstocks.