SubscribeBREAKFAST March 29, 2009
I’m a big believer in first impressions. Some people might see it as a rush to judgment, but I feel life is too short for second and third chances. That doesn’t mean I close the door, just that I don’t care if I ever walk through it again. I occasionally get criticism saying I shouldn’t jump to conclusions about a restaurant based on a single visit. Invariably, I respond that I have no duty to be objective. I’m not an investigative journalist, just someone who writes about what he eats and generally I don’t see the point in returning to a place I didn’t enjoy.
I first heard about La Cornetteria on the chowhound website, and after sampling the wares, concluded that it was another case of chowwashing (chowwashing, n.[chau-waw-shing] 1. a method whereby posters on chowhound who have discovered an unremarkable establishment (the more obscure, the better) speak about it so positively and at such great lengths that one becomes convinced Michelin will publish a Montreal guide just to include it in their pages…). The much-hyped zeppole was too American for me, all whipped cream with nothing to hold it together and the cornetto was dry and forgettable–the idiot stepsister to a good croissant–which, to be fair, is something that I have thought whilst sampling cornetti in Italy as well.
And forget I did. Seasons passed: spring turned to summer, then fall, winter and back again. Children were born, old people passed away and young ones fell in love; then, on a Sunday, I returned to Cornetteria. A lot had changed in the year or so since my last visit. The exterior dolled up in vertical stripes (it looks thinner now), the unfinished storefront with the empty display case replaced by a modern counter chock full of cornetti, that staple of Roman breakfasts, and the aroma of coffee wafting through the air. There were cornetti stuffed with nutella, with crema, with custard and with almonds. The plain cornetto “nature” from my last visit was nowhere to be found but the nutella and cream stuffed versions were both very tasty, with the moist, sweet fillings complementing the fresh, dense sugar coated roll that exuded a faint orangish scent. Conclusion–I likes.
Did they have zeppole? The owner said he would be making them all month but he wasn’t happy about it. They’re only supposed to be made St. Joseph’s day and the commercial reality of having to meet demand throughout the month of April (or heaven forbid, the entire year) was a break from tradition he clearly did not appreciate. How do you not like a guy like that?
No zeppole on this day though. Too bad. After revising my views on the cornetto, maybe lightning will strike twice.
La Cornetteria
6528 St-Laurent
514.277.8030
Recently, I was accosted by a certain Carswell on the Chowhound site and accused of having a “history of mocking Chowhound on [my] blog” and of trying to tell the people on Chowhound “what a bunch of overly excitable, intolerant lock steppers [they] are.” Strong words indeed, but I was a little confused as to their provenance since I have never written (or even implied) any of the foregoing.
It seems that the smoking gun (what my good friend Mr. Carswell referred to as the “money quote”) is the definition of “chowwashing” in the post above, which I assume is the entire “history” since it is the only mention of Chowhound on this site in three years of posts. I think most people will take my little definition for what it is, namely an attempt at humour in a piece which, taken in context, actually credits the prevailing view on Chowhound as accurate. So while I would like to apologize if anyone from (or posting on) Chowhound is offended by the post above, I don’t really understand why it upsets them or why they feel personally targeted by it. I would suggest that what Mr. Carswell needs even more than an apology is a chisel to knock the chip off his shoulder.