The question of what separates humans from other animals is one for the ages.
There is much lofty and heated discussion on the matter, which often includes debates about language, self-awareness, the definition of identity, instrumental reason, and even the nature of the soul.
Entire divisions of philosophy are dedicated to various subsets of the problem: ontology looks at the nature of being, teleology at purpose or intentionality, and epistemology at knowledge.
Humanity is at the centre of a daunting intellectual tradition.
As I get older, I find myself seeking simpler, more intuitive answers to troubling questions. On the topic of what makes humans special, I have found a great deal can be learned by considering bread, that humble staple of meals the world over.
The ability to make bread is uniquely human. It requires tremendous imagination and vision to take a bunch of disparate ingredients that would not typically co-mingle in nature and unite them in harmonious collaboration in the form of a loaf.
Such a process reveals the ability to abstract and to determine cause and effect through scientific rigour and experimentation. Almost every culture has some form of bread, whether it is leavened, unleavened, baked, fried, boiled, or grilled.
After much careful and patient instruction we may be able to train a primate of some description to prepare bread, but I defy you to find a troop of monkeys, left to their own devices, baking baguettes in nature.
Riding the high of my participation in our amazing, bread-baking species, I recently paid a visit to The Bakehouse in Edgemont Village, a firmly established bastion of breadstuffs that has been in operation for nearly a baker’s dozen years.
I visited the rustic and welcoming establishment for brunch with the family in tow. The kids are getting to an age now where it is possible for them to sit still and enjoy a touch of conversation with Mom and Dad without their eyes rolling clear into the back of their heads amidst complaints of how terribly boring grown-ups are.
Admittedly, ordering from the brunch menu was difficult for me; baskets of freshly baked goods and shelves of breads spanned the shop, calling out to me sweetly to choose them over more traditional brunch dishes.
I must confess to ultimately yielding, in part, to their persuasions. So, in addition to a selection of brunch items that included eggs Benedict, French toast and scrambled eggs with rosti potatoes, I also chose a rhubarb muffin the size of a small melon, an amber-hued cinnamon bun with a gloriously caramelized base, and, for toast later on at home, a loaf of Irish soda bread so dense and fantastically heavy it could have been used to reinforce a crumbling levee.
It was the unanimous conclusion of the Dagenais clan that we like The Bakehouse best for its baking.
Now, don’t get me wrong. The brunch items were good. My West Coast Bennie, which featured two perfectly poached, slowly oozing eggs atop a layer of smoked salmon and two generous rounds of sourdough bread, all topped with a light and expertly crafted Hollandaise, made for a satisfying brunch.
Ditto the Santa Fe eggs chosen by my wife, DJ. The eggs were scrambled with salsa, onions and cheddar and were served with a crispy web of rosti potato. True to its commitment to making everything in-house with quality ingredients, The Bakehouse dishes out simple, honest brunch fare that makes you feel like it was cooked in a good friend’s kitchen.
However, as the kids locked eyes with DJ and I, their little hands slyly reaching for the last crumbs of that positively delicious rhubarb muffin, it occurred to me that the experience I most relish at The Bakehouse is tucking into one of their exceptional baked creations with a cup of coffee.
The room has a cosy farmhouse feel to it and the patio, tucked behind bushes and railing, is a great place to enjoy a lazy Sunday morning meal or treat.
My kids initially approached a shared dish of cinnamon bun French toast with vigour but quickly waned in the face of its richness and the overwhelmingly clove-infused apple compote that accompanied it. However, back at home, we all made frighteningly short work of that simply outstanding Irish soda bread. Toasted, buttered, and topped with homemade jam, the bread was transcendently delicious.
Our meal, which included three brunch entrees, two baked items, a loaf of bread to take home, coffee, tea, and milk, was $60 before gratuity. Coffee refills are 75 cents per cup, presumably to prevent patrons from overstaying their welcome when tables are in high demand.
The Bakehouse is located at 1050 West Queens Rd. in Edgemont Village.
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. Contact: [email protected].
