Nov. 04, 2009 - Issue #733: Broke
Eco Cafe: Is there an ECO in here?
Don't come for the food, and definitely don't stay for the service
I know. I experienced it first hand.
Right now, I'm feeling a wee bit grumpy. Slightly shell-shocked, a little bit dirty and completely unsatisfied would also be appropriate adjectives. And you, ECO Café, are the cause of my grief. You made it undoubtedly clear that you would rather my car had not driven a whole 37 minutes from the International Airport to park in front of your little café, my feet had not flipped and flopped their way through your bright yellow door and my rumbling stomach had not settled in at one of your cozy tables.
I'll let you in on a secret, ECO Café. I wish you were still a distant notion floating around in my head, one full of promise and possibility. But you ruined that. Now you're just a disastrous memory indelibly etched in my fairly tolerant brain.
Excuse me if I sound harsh and rigid and unforgiving. But I'm still astounded.
For those of you who aren't familiar with ECO Café, it's a much-heralded café near Pigeon Lake. You know, fields, trees, cows, serenity and a 50-minute drive from Edmonton. The café is a member of Original Fare and prides itself on supporting independent local farmers and using organic ingredients whenever possible. All good.
Being into local and organic and healthy, my family and I decided it was just what we needed after a little drive in the country. When we arrived at the Village at Pigeon Lake, the quaint boardwalk-y shopping mecca that ECO Café is a part of, it was 7:27 pm. I know, I was timing the drive.
Everything looked oh-so-welcoming: the little tables and chairs perched out front, the rustic cottage-like exterior and the colourful sign with its shining sun, jaunty trees and shimmering water. Just like an idyllic country café.
Inside looked equally promising. A display case sporting oodles of tempting treats gave way to a cozy coffee bar. The small room, with its wooden floors and dark round tables, was filled with earthy touches and Buddha-inspired décor. My husband likened it to a comfy mountain café with Zen-like vibes.
We opted to forgo the inviting but busy patio and enjoy the relative tranquility of the café. Only one couple shared the room with us.
We looked at the menu, marvelled at the unique selection of drinks—everything from organic wine to Italian sodas to gluten-free beer—and felt relaxed and welcome.
Our waitress popped by to take our drink order: an organic Calypso Lemonade ($4.50), an organic Calypso Tropical Mango Lemonade ($4.50), a soda water ($2.25) and a chocolate milk ($3.25). We were still pondering the menu when she returned with her tray full of plastic glasses, and she patiently retreated.
The menu is kind of eclectic, offering everything from salads and pizza to lemongrass chicken and Moroccan-style Alberta lamb tagine. The emphasis is on fresh, organic, seasonal and thoughtful.
We ordered Vietnamese spring rolls ($5.95) and bruschetta ($7.95) to start, followed by a bison burger ($10.95), a classic ECO quesadilla ($10.95), a grilled ham & cheese ($9.95) and grilled wild Pacific salmon ($15.95). And that's when things started to fall apart.
First, up went the chairs on all the unoccupied tables, which meant our warm and cozy view was replaced by a cornucopia of skinny black chair legs. Quite distracting and not ideal, but it was what it was. A signal that the 8 pm closing time was close, perhaps.
Appetizers made their way through the maze of chair legs and were successful enough. The spring rolls were hot and crispy, and the bruschetta was soft and crunchy and garlicky. But then the broom came out and someone decided it was the perfect time to sweep the lovely wooden floor. The plumes of dust it left in its wake were unsettling enough, but when they dared poke its bristles under our table, it became too much.
When the wielder of the broom assured us she wasn't trying to rush us, I commented that having a broom as a dining companion wasn't exactly relaxing. She stopped sweeping, looked at me, and said she wouldn't be much longer. And then she kept sweeping!
Dinner itself was okay. The quesadilla was liberally laced with tender chicken, and it came with a lively fresh salsa. The ham & cheese was packed with ham, and there was plenty of gooey cheddar too. And the bread it came on was real and hearty—not the lifeless supermarket variety. A side bowl of ham and vegetable soup needed a little work, though, since it basically consisted of a few strands of ham, some bits of onion and a somewhat fatty broth.
My husband said the bison burger was OK, but he didn't finish it, even after scraping off all the mayo the menu didn't bother to mention. Based on the café's philosophy, I'm sure the patty must have been homemade, but visually it looked just like a prefab burger, not a carefully hand-shaped one. But he did seriously dent the large pile of crispy, thick-cut fries it was served with.
My salmon wasn't successful at all. A dry piece of wild salmon was perched on top of a thick layer of Parmesan, a mound of penne and some baked grape tomatoes. Other than being slightly bland and too cheesy, the pasta wasn't bad, but the salmon itself couldn't even be rescued by the lemon wedges I eventually requested.
And it turned out our cleaning exhibition wasn't quite over. We were treated to a lively session of floor-mopping before we managed to finish eating.
Dinner was not tranquil, or enjoyable. But it was memorable.
To be fair to ECO Café, the food took a backseat to the cleaning frenzy. Even if the food had been spectacular, we wouldn't have enjoyed it. Not with billows of dust dancing about us. V
Sun to Thu (6:30 am – 8 pm); Fri & Sat
(6:30 am – 9 pm)
ECO Café
#10 Village Drive, R.R.2
Westerose, 780.586.2627
More info about Eco Café →
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