Moving. It sucks. All the packing and the boxes and the actual moving. Then there's the unpacking. And remembering to go right instead of left when you leave work. The schedule adjustments as you figure out how long it takes to walk places. How early you need to get up. What busses to take. How long it takes to drive to the grocery store.
But moving also means a new neighbourhood, with new places to explore.
Along with figuring out which mailbox is yours, learning the special trick to get the patio door to open, and figuring out where the hell to hang all the pictures, finding a new standard go-to diner is a top priority in these parts.
And I think we may have a contender.
This wasn't my first visit to Palladium and I had certainly heard all about it from various friends who frequent it on the regular. Tucked just within the limits of Cole Harbour—Home of Sidney Crosby—this place is kind of a blink-and-you'll-miss-it hole in the wall in a fairly non-descript looking building.
We went on a Sunday morning and were seated quickly as we waited for friends to arrive. The dining room has Greek-village type flourishes, but overall you just kind of feel like you're sitting inside a former DQ or Tim Hortons. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But if you're expecting charming atmosphere, this might not be your place.
Our breakfast companions were hardcore regulars—I'm talking on basically a first name basis with our server, a salty lady who was equal parts gruff and lovely. Basically the perfect diner waitress.
The breakfast menu is smallish, but it has all the hits. They do have a lot of omelettes if you're into that kind of thing. After some debate I opted to go with the standard two egg breakfast. Eggs over easy, white toast, bacon, and grilled potatoes.
Our food arrived promptly and I was so excited about it, that I forgot to take a picture before I dove in like a damn ravenous animal. I guess that should tell you a bit about the quality of the breakfast: It was deliciously mediocre and satisfying in that way that only a diner breakfast can be.
My toast was basically just warm bread whereas one of our dining companion's slices were burnt to shit. The bacon was a little overcooked, but still somehow delicious. The grilled potatoes were a total highlight for me—a nice change from your standard frozen then deep friend home fries. And the eggs were great. But most of all, the service was amazing.
Did we have to ask for me coffee? Yeah. Did we have to steal ketchup and jam from another table? Sure. But did our serve have a personality and a sense of humour? In spades. And that to me is the true hallmark of a proper diner.
Would I tell you to jump in your car and drive across the bridge to Cole Harbour—home of Sidney Crosby—just for this breakfast? I mean... probably not. But if you live in the Darkside, or ever find yourself in the area around breakfast/brunch time, this is a sure bet. I know I'll definitely be back.