Now known as the trendy hot spot for brunch, after hearing so much praise come from so many sources, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check it out. Unfortunately we aren’t the only ones turned on to the idea and their space (the renovated location of the former Mile End bar) shares almost equal proportion of waiting area and tables. Our party of three arrived without a reservation, which is only available for groups of four or more, and were told there would be about a 20 minute wait for a table.

A reserved table not only holds up the flow of things while waiting for it to be filled, but a sense of ‘ownership’ of the table seems to allow those people a reason to linger far longer after they’ve finished. While two people seem to get seated fairly quickly with the turnover of couples at the smaller tables, arriving as a group of three will basically render you screwed as the only tables large enough to accommodate your group are also the ones consecutively reserved. We watched for over 45 minutes while tables would open up, be cleared and re-set, only to be snatched by reservations just walking in the door.

Annoying, to say the least, but it granted us a lengthy amount of time to admire the decor. Large windows let in the weekend sun that illuminates a papered wall decorated with the silhouettes of a thousand birds. The dimly lit dark woods and regal English plates served up on unbleached paper table coverings make it seem like a crossover between afternoon tea and time for a pint. A long stair case leads to a tiny landing featuring an ATM machine. The place is cash only at the moment, and unless you want your exercise, hit up the bank before visiting.

The hostess tried to make us comfortable by offering us coffee and tea while we waited, which certainly helped, but our party was getting a little impatient/teetering toward the ravenous side. Suddenly, my wife started to blush for no apparent reason, her expression changing from annoyed to ecstatic. Win Butler from The Arcade Fire walks in and sits at the bar, chatting up the barrista and ordering his usual breakfast. (Win, if you’re reading this, Shannon says hi!) I’ve never wanted to be famous before, but being able to walk in to The Sparrow and get served immediately would certainly be a perk. Note to self: get famous. After that, things started to pick up for us, as the group that was immediately before us in line had been seated, ordered, finished eating and cleared their table, that would eventually become our own.

We take our seats and I polish off a second cup of The Sparrow’s delicious coffee. It is apparently a special blend they buy from Union Cafe (148 Jean-Talon W.) here in Montreal. If anyone is interested, just ask for “The Sparrow blend” and they’ll hook you up.

The menu for The Sparrow is updated weekly on their website (read: facebook group) and sadly, did not feature the scones I’d heard raved about for so long. The girls tried the French toast with autumnal fruits ($13) and I tried the English breakfast ($14). Not to skip ahead too much, but Shannon and I just had to return after our first visit, and we tried the croissant ($4), banana and chocolate doughnuts ($4), sausage and egg roll ($10) and smoked salmon and scrambled eggs ($13) on this second occasion. Another standard seasonal fixture at the moment seems to be the deviled kidneys with arugula on toast ($13). There’s also currently a toasted brioche with scrambled eggs and white truffle option for $32 if you’re feeling luxurious.

Once fortunate enough to have a table, The Sparrow feels extremely well staffed with nearly a two to one ratio of tables to friendly and informed waitresses. I suck on a lump of sugar (at The Sparrow, you can literally take “one lump or two?” in your breakfast blend tea) as we make our aforementioned decisions, eagerly eying other diners’ plates as they pass by. Everything comes out of the kitchen consistently arranged and looking equally as delicious as the next.

The French toast with autumnal fruits is made from a rich house-baked brioche, sliced into three thick wedges and perfectly cooked. Lightly flavored with maple syrup and served with caramelized apples and a cranberry compote, along with a dollop of creme fraiche, this is really what French toast should be. In fact, that’s kind of what really sets The Sparrow apart in general. As soon as you start comparing any of the items to anywhere else, it’s clear that there is a great attention to detail here.

My English breakfast comes with a single fried egg atop two pieces of toasted rustic bread, bacon, a “banger” (sausage), boudin noir, baked beans and a hefty portion of bubble and squeak (boiled, then fried potatoes and cabbage). What makes this worth more than twice the price of your typical $5 breakfast special is the quality and care put into it. The bacon is two crisp slabs of pork belly that tastes of smoldering wood, the baked beans are perfectly cooked in a rich tomato broth hot from the stove, the sausage is tender and flavorful, and when’s the last time you had blood sausage at breakfast? It’s a large plate of food that kept me satisfied in all respects until dinner. It’s a beautiful thing.

The croissant and doughnuts feel a bit overpriced, though aren’t bad selections by any means. The croissant is light and flaky with a crisp exterior that we shared as sort of an appetizer for things to come, laden with a decent portion of butter and raspberry jam. Similarly, two doughnuts holes, though delicious morsels of banana batter revealing a gooey and luxurious chocolate ganache center, feel like a bit of a let down at $2 a Timbit, even if they are fresh from the deep-fryer. When all is said and done, it doesn’t seem to pack the same value as the rest of the meal.

The sausage and egg roll is presented as is on a large burger-style bun, bolstered by two fried eggs, lettuce, tomato and aged cheddar cheese. This is one hell of a breakfast sandwich. The sausage patty is fresh and perfectly seasoned, bits of yolk dribble on to the plate after every bite… it’s messy, but totally worth it. Shannon remarked: even the tomato tastes fresh. How is that possible? It’s November!

Finally, the scrambled eggs are a bit of revelation. I typically steer away from scrambled eggs in restaurants because places cook them to death. Scrambled eggs are often the breakfast choice for people who don’t like eggs. This is a scrambled egg dish for people that love eggs, pillowy morsels of fresh eggs adorned with creme fraiche and chives that all binds together in an almost spreadable, creamy consistency. It is served on top of two thick slices of toasted rustic bread with three generous portions of house smoked salmon on the side to add as you liken. It was the perfect amount to compliment every forkful that entered my mouth.

Upon receiving our bill we are presented with a card explaining that The Sparrow pledges a dollar from the proceeds of our meal to the Restaurants contre la Faim program and suggests we match the donation. We do. After finding such a level of contentment from breakfast, it just seems wrong not to help feed the hungry.

While the waiting was frustrating at the time, it almost seems irrelevant afterward. I’m even finding myself rationalizing it now as part of “The Sparrow experience”. Sit and wait, enjoy a coffee and the newspaper, then sit and eat. It’s like going to a cafe and a restaurant in one eating experience! Alright, while this may seem like a bit of a stretch, The Sparrow has really become our new favorite brunch location, and aside from the fact that it’ll likely make it harder for us to get a table, I urge you to check it out. Just remember: two are welcome, three’s a crowd, and four or more requires a reservation.

Cosmo’s is certainly not in need of my business, which I am assured of by my confusion when we show up at the door. Both indoors and out no one greets us, so we sit down outside at a dirty table and wait. After a bit of time, I head inside and ask for a menu and inquire as to whether we are to order at the counter. I’m told yes, bring the menu outside for our whole table to browse, and before we decide a waitress comes out to take our order, clearing past plates in the process.

We need a minute, and she returns to the kitchen. “Can we borrow your ketchup?” the table behind us asks. Sure, why not. “Can we borrow your milk?” another table asks. Apparently the previous table had hogged the only condiments and coffee adulterers. The ketchup I was fine with, but the milk I gave up reluctantly, looking around and feeling that it was nearly empty as I lifted it to hand over.

The standard two eggs, meat, potatoes and bread is a dollar more than what I’m used to ($6) but includes coffee, which more than balances things out. The situation looks promising, with the addition of salami to the meat options and a plethora of bread selections including white, whole wheat, pumpernickel, bagel, black Russian, marble rye, and probably some others that I’m leaving out. This is what I order. It’s always a safe bet.

Cosmo’s affectionatos seem to lean towards the mish mash ($7.50) which seems like basically a lot of scrambled eggs tossed together with almost random bits of meat and potatoes, or The Creation, which is a fried egg sandwich of epic artery clogging proportions. If I woke up the courage to go back, this will be my go-to menu item, as I’m hoping for something along the lines of the club roll at The Main. The menu features the standard breakfast fare aside from that, with the exception of a VHS (no DVD option available) recording of the owner’s documentary, “Man of Grease”. The Main has their own video too. It’s still weird.

The coffee, aside from the tedious task of tracking down a table with milk (no cream?) is typical in a reassuring way. My cup is filled frequently while waiting for our meal. Since I chose the place, I remain optimistic, despite a few awkward and off-putting instances so far, while the rest of the table is a little unsure why I picked this place, as we sit at a beat up patio table sharing a nearly empty milk container with four other tables.

Our food arrives. My eggs were cooked perfectly. I received three sausages instead of the standard two, butterflied and grilled up until crispy. Greasy as hell, but what I expected. Everything else was disappointing.

I’m trying to be open-minded here, because I almost wrote off Bagel Etc. the first time I ate there and it has become my standard for breakfasts since then. The hash browns, often touted as the best in the city, were possibly the most disgusting thing I’ve put in my mouth in months. The whole mess was extremely wet and gluey, like continuously cooked mashed potatoes, flavored with margarine, raw onion and salt. The consistency of greasy spoon hash browns is spotty at best, so I can kind of let that slide.

The clincher for me was the bagel. With the selection of bagel bakeries available in Montreal, Cosmo’s opts not for Fairmount, St. Viateur, or even Dad’s bagel down the street, but some mass produced poppyseed bagel from a bag. Anywhere but Montreal and I would not order a bagel as my bread selection, and anywhere but Montreal I would not be irked by receiving a lame bagel if I was stupid enough to do so, but failing to have Montreal bagels as an option at Montreal breakfast institutions is an offense that should be punishable by death in my opinion.

Cosmo’s is a unique experience, but not for the reasons I’d like. When we asked for peanut butter, we received a Costco-sized unlabeled jar that had but a scrape of peanut butter remaining at the bottom of it. I use my knife to break my egg yolks. Kids do worse. Imagine how many double-dipped knives containing who-knows-what get jabbed into that jar every day? Then and now I still find this very idea hilarious. It certainly drives the point home that eating at Cosmo’s is like eating in a friend’s kitchen, only you’re sharing your condiments with hundreds of other patrons instead of friends and family.

As I wait at the till to pay, I see a tea pot being filled with water from a dirty coffee pot. If I do work up the nerve to return, and that’s a big if, remind me not to veer too far from the java. Curiously, I overhear a table behind us say something along the lines of, “Some friends recommended this to us because it was the best breakfast in Montreal, and I have to agree!” I’m not sure what to think about this.