WORDS & PHOTOS BY CHRIS TIESSEN
‘The last time I encountered a brew this large,’ I exclaim as I raise my one-litre Bavarian stein in the air, ‘I was at the Hofbräuhaus in Munich.’ A lifetime ago. Twenty-five years, actually. Another story for another day. Cheekily, my TOQUE partner- in-crime Cai raises her own stein and klinks mine. ‘Prost!,’ she laughs. We make eye contact (as folks are wont to do) and then each take a gulp, my lager and Cai’s IPA brewed just down the street. Cold. Fresh. Heavenly.
All around us, various-sized groups of families and friends are scattered about the tiered front lawn at communal tables shaded by an impressive canopy of mature deciduous trees. Chatting. Laughing. Enjoying each other’s company. Behind us, servers stream back and forth from a converted century home set at the top of the yard, carrying steins of beer and German-inspired dishes of schnitzel and bratwurst and oversized pretzels to patrons anticipating this distinctive German fare (as well as more common pub eatables like wings and nachos and burgers). In front of us, at the bottom of the lawn, the sound of hooves clip-clopping along King Street signals a couple horse-drawn buggies carrying Old Order Mennonite families home from Sunday service. The contrast between these folks’ god-fearing (and, indeed, god-loving) practices with my own more profane form of Sunday communion isn’t lost on me – especially since, whether they would believe it or not, we share the same common Anabaptist ancestors.
Sacred spaces come in diverse shapes and sizes.
It’s Sunday, early June, just after noon, and Cai and I have journeyed from our home base in Guelph to the quaint village of St Jacobs to check out this fetching oasis: The Village Biergarten. As I take another swig from my oversized stein – a crisp lager from Block Three Brewing Co – I find it hard to believe that neither of us have ventured out here before. Especially since I’ve known for some time that respected culinary personality (and recent @champsforcharitykw boxing winner) Nick Benninger touted the place as his favourite patio in the region. And Nick’s words are gospel, as far as I’m concerned. Yet it’s taken the fact that our friend, Elora-based restauranteur Denis Fontana (owner of La Fontana – the most delightful riverside Italian eatery), recently purchased the Biergarten to get us out here. As I’m about to discover, the place’s menu (coupled with the striking Bavarian steins and pleasing ambiance) will have us coming back for more.
The spread that Chef Prince (who has worked in the kitchen at The Village Biergarten for several years now) sends out to our table is impressive. For starters: an order of ‘Fried Meatballs’ (four beef and cheese meatballs, breaded and fried, served with garlic marinara sauce); a plate of ‘Mac & Cheese Bites’ (four mac & cheese clusters, breaded and fried, served with spicy aioli); and, of course, a ‘Warm Pretzel’ (served with mustard aioli, honey mustard, and Block Three beer cheese sauce). I’m especially taken by the bites, which pair perfectly with the lager, while Cai is a fan of the meatballs. (Pretzels are pretzels, amiright?)
For mains (after all, we’re here to sample as widely as we can), we split an order of ‘Fish Tacos’ (Block Three beer-battered cod fillet over three corn tortillas, sweet and sour slaw, garlic mayo, sliced radish, pineapple pico de gallo, and jalapeno crema), a ‘Biergarten Cheeseburger’ (two patties, American cheddar, tomato, onions, lettuce, sweet pickles, garlic aioli, classic bun, served with fries), and the ‘Jakobstettel Schnitzel’ (classic breaded German-style pork schnitzel served with potato salad, sauerkraut, and mustard aioli). ‘When Denis purchased the Biergarten,’ Chef Prince tells us when he joins us for a chat, ‘our regulars made sure to let us know that we couldn’t take staple items like the schnitzel off the menu.’ And for good reason, too. The dish, with its discretely-breaded pork and tangy potato salad, comes close to convincing me that I’m back in Munich again. In the end, it’s the cheeseburger, though, that has me swooning. ‘It’s the sweet pickles and aioli,’ I tell Cai. ‘I could eat this burger all day.’
And while I end up polishing off my portion of the burger in mere minutes, and we’ve both had our fill of food, Cai and I do not make any sudden moves to clear out of this space. Why would we? By now it’s mid-afternoon and a soft breeze is making its way through the trees and across our skin. While Cai and I continue to enjoy the generous contents of our steins, groups of diners come and go. I take note of a gaggle of cyclists parking their bikes in racks at the edge of the beer garden down by King Street and, amidst jostles and chuckles, making their way to the host station to secure a table. Behind them, a horse-drawn buggy chuffs swiftly up the street. I follow the archaic apparatus with my eyes until it passes out of sight. The whole scene is a gentle reminder of how special every corner of our region is. Its food. And drink. And sights. And customs. A tapestry (or, perhaps more appropriately, a quilt) of ever-inspired destinations.
I add The Village Biergarten in St Jacobs as one more thread to follow, one more piece to embrace.
THE VILLAGE BIERGARTEN
1381 KING ST N, ST. JACOBS
thevillagebiergarten.ca
