There I was, 90 minutes early - cutting it close for me - for an afternoon speaking engagement at Barrie City Hall. Barrie’s one of those small cities Torontonians whiz past on Fridays, escaping to cottage country. Oh sure, they might grab one last Starbucks at the Enroute but there’s no need to venture into its interior to explore its restaurants. They’re bringing big-city food with them in their coolers. As a non-cottager, I am as unlikely to be looking for lunch in Barrie as Britain’s Prince Andrew was to be eating at the Woking Pizza Express. But yet I was. 

 It’s common knowledge that the majority of people feel anxiety about public speaking. I was once in that camp but worked hard to shift myself to the minority. Now you can’t shut me up, so while many would have worried about eating just before speaking, it wasn’t my concern. Indeed, I was eager to see what Barrie might have to offer. Across the street from City Hall there were two candidates - one that looked more like it might have nightlife and Groovy Tuesday’s Bistro. I chose the latter. 

Solo dining is another of those things that scares people but I’ve entered a lot of restaurants alone. At GTB, I liked the fact that no-one looked anxiously for my lunching partner. I got seated and immediately immersed myself in the menu. When I dine out, I look for dishes that are finicky, require a deep fryer, or have so many ingredients that I couldn’t store them all in my fridge — things that I can’t make myself. One of my go-tos is a Cobb salad. Their Groovy Cobb looked intriguing and became even more so when I was offered a choice between chicken or shrimp. Ooooh, shrimp of course!

I’d barely pulled my speaking notes out for one last look when my Instagram-worthy meal arrived. Blackened shrimp corkscrews sat surrounded by variations on the typical elements: the white of my egg had been lightly breaded and dropped in the fryer and the yolks spiced up and piped back in; pickled green beans gave the acid punch I so love; cherry tomatoes puckered with the perfect blister; and well, the bacon, what can I say? Bacon revives many a dead Cobb but here it was merely another part of an ensemble cast atop crisp romaine and shaved celery. Caesar-rim goats cheese balls were the only minor miss - too much celery salt and not enough heat.  

I commended my server when she returned to take away my near-spotless plate. She beamed. GTB is her 12 year-old baby, a survivor when others didn’t make it through lockdowns and pandemic reluctance. But she’s worried: as Ontario enters winter, rounds of COVID will pile onto an already bleak season. December holiday parties may see her through.   

Groovy Tuesday’s Bistro is just one of many teetering, yet still on the hook to repay  Canadian Emergency Business Account loans. I watch UberEats deliveries of McDonalds and see boxes from pizza chains peek out of recycling bins so I know people are cooking less and less. I wish they’d shift attention to the gems like Groovy Tuesday’s Bistro.    

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