Arshile K.
Yelp
Manita is a testament to the maxim 'great things come in small packages'. A slender corridor perched against Royal Street, this cafe/bar/specialty grocer brings us as close to Europe as anyone can get these days. Cafe tables seem to extend into the street, introducing a more everyday liveliness to a corner I generally associate with pounding bass and slurred sentences.
Manita manages its offerings as brilliantly as it manages its space. I want to place the menu near France, but it's not just French. Alongside moules frites is a falafel sandwich I have yet to try but hear is amazing. That recommendation came from Ian, one of three Manita partners. "If you haven't tried the burger yet though, you should get that." I tried to goad my girlfriend into ordering the falafel so we could cover all bases, but she was committed to eggs.
This is the best burger I've ever had. Since devouring it, I've exhausted a good deal of energy mining my memory for a time a burger has come remotely close to making me feel like the burger at Manita's did, and I've come up completely dry. I don't know what they do to their cheese to make it what it is. I'm not sure what masked hero of a bakery is responsible for those buns. God knows what sort of oblation chef Colin Tooke left at an altar to get a recipe that good. I swear the most firm parts of the burger were the deliciously sweet pickle slices cradled inside the gooey decadence they call a cheeseburger. You need to experience this. This burger tastes like all your aspirations achieved.
As I tried to come to terms with how mind-bending the bite I had in my mouth was, I overheard someone at another table: "Is it just me, or is this falafel insanely good?" Something to look forward to I guess.
Thank you Ian, Sam, and Colin for helping justify the high cost of rent in the area.
And my girlfriend loved her eggs.