Thornbury’s Bruce Wine Bar and Kitchen may be tucked away, but it’s earned a loyal and growing following of foodies
by Emily Worts
photography by Christa & Richard Galloway
You won’t find the Bruce Wine Bar and Kitchen, one of Thornbury’s premier restaurants, while cruising Thornbury’s main street.
You won’t find it on any of Thornbury’s side streets either. Tucked in behind the TD Bank, in a side alley, a faintly lit sign and a small patio welcome eager patrons to this hip and delicious restaurant.
To avoid the crowds, especially on weekends, Bruce Wine Bar and Kitchen offers two seatings, one at 6:30 p.m. and one at 8:30. “It gets very busy and we couldn’t turn our tables twice in an evening with everyone wanting to eat at 7:30; we couldn’t get everyone in,” says co-owner Steven Vipond. “They’ll eat half an hour earlier if that’s what it takes.”
My husband John and I book in for 6:30 on a Friday night and visit what was once an old apartment building and storage space behind the former Pagoda Chinese Restaurant. Upon entering the warm vestibule we see people gathered around a handful of high-top tables, across from the bustling open kitchen. I hear the clinking of wine glasses and the tinkle of laughter. I see a pile of firewood tucked under the staircase and breathe in the comforting wafts of smoke from the wood-fired oven. We are guided up a steep, narrow staircase and I feel like we’re being initiated into some sort of secret club. I love it.
“There’s value to eating in a space that you shouldn’t be,” says John as we are led to our table in a converted attic. The sloped ceilings, contemporary atmostphere and comfy couches make this dining space a step above the average. “It makes you feel like you’re a part of something really cool.”
And the Bruce Wine Bar and Kitchen is definitely cool.
This is one of those restaurants people will travel a long distance to visit; a restaurant that will be around for a long time; a restaurant that has a following of devout converts.
“We owned the building and no one wanted to rent it,” recalls Steven Vipond of how the Bruce Wine Bar came into being. Steven and his wife Jennifer Vipond have a love of food and a serious passion for wine, but had never owned or operated a restaurant before. “We started with just a wine bar in February 2011,” says Steven. “We had bread, cheese, small plates and we thought we’d be open a couple of days a week.”
Almost three years later, the restaurant is now open six days a week (seven days during the holiday season), with a full menu that has foodies clamouring for reservations.
“The public dictates, and it seemed people weren’t so ready for the small plates,” says Steven. “They wanted more.”
The upstairs is warm and cool, with recessed floor lighting, Lucite wine racks that stretch across the sloped ceiling, and a long communal table seating 14 as well as tables for two and four. “We’ve seen some great things happen at the communal table,” says Steven. “We’ve literally seen strangers sharing food once they’ve met.” At our table for two, our server, Dave, gives us space and time to peruse the menu offering and guides us in whatever way he can.
Everything looks so good. Co-owner Shaun Edmonstone, a red-seal chef, has returned home to Thornbury from stints at Toronto’s Pangea restaurant and the Windsor Arms Hotel.
Bruce Wine Bar and Kitchen offers two dining experiences – more casual downstairs in the ‘kitchen’ and a little more upscale upstairs – but the menus are the same. The Bruce is known for its classic Neapolitan-style wood fired pizza, but also hits the higher end of the spectrum with Quebec seared Foie Gras served with smoked apples and Norman Hardie Riesling jelly.
I know I want the Foie Gras – what a treat – and Dave suggests some food and wine choices that will pair nicely. We decide on an apple and lentil salad with walnuts and honey vinaigrette, wood oven roasted strip loin with barley risotto and a house cured salumi pizza (salumi is Italian cured meat).
I adore wine, but I don’t know wine. I love Dave’s descriptions of the house wines, which come in 3- or 6-ounce pours, and I choose the ‘jamminess’ of the Cabernet Sauvignon over the ‘grippiness’ of the Shiraz.
The Foie Gras arrives and it melts in my mouth. The accompanying Riesling jelly is so good it can be eaten on its own (think grown-up Jell-O). The lentil salad, served on a wood board, is perfect for sharing. The abundance of crisp flat-leaf parsley makes this salad more refreshing than heavy, and it works perfectly with the rich Foie Gras. The Bruce Wine Bar features live music every Friday night and the venue has become a popular stop for Canadian singer-songwriters. On this night, Mike Bennett subtly strums his acoustic guitar at the front of the room.
The wood oven-roasted strip loin is cooked more rare than medium, on Dave’s recommendation, and is served with a heap of freshly grated horseradish, some Ontario blue cheese, and a creamy barley risotto. The selection of seasonal vegetables is as good as the main. We practically lick our plate clean.
The pizza, with homemade salumi, is what a pizza should be. It brings back memories of backpacking through the alleyways of Rome. Homemade spicy oil is there if you dare.
As we dine on our delicious food I wonder where the upstairs kitchen is. I haven’t seen any of our food being carried up the stairs, yet it arrives hot and timely. John investigates behind the upstairs wine bar and is shown the dumb waiter that efficiently lifts our food up into the attic – very cool.
We are too full for dessert, but I’m here for work and this is part of the job. Our only complaint of the evening is there is no chocolate on the dessert menu. I’m not a huge dessert person, but if I have a spot of delicious red wine left in my glass at the end of a meal I like to enjoy it with some rich chocolate. We settle on pumpkin Panna Cotta and struggle to finish it only because we’ve pushed the limits of our waistlines.
Songster Bennett returns to the front of the room after a short break and starts strumming again. New diners arrive and wait for their tables in the comfortable lounge area at the front. They are happy; we don’t feel rushed.
We descend the stairs and take our exit. There is no one around. We climb into our car, and I look over my shoulder. It’s not that I’m nervous in this dark alley; it’s more like I’m checking to see if anyone saw me leave this secret club, where I’m now a member. ❧
