Make no mistake about it, we Saving Grace devotees came first for the food. When Monica Miller opened its doors at 907 Dundas West, in February 2000, she anticipated a low-traffic, chill cafe. On opening day, just her close friends showed up to hang out. On the second day, there were no customers at all. It was just as well, she says, since her kitchen was equipped with a single burner at the time. Glowing reviews of her food came quickly, though, first from Eye and then Now, and the lines really never let up.
“I didn’t know the eggs were going to be so popular,” Monica says.
They were. I vaguely remember my first order of eggs at Grace, sometime in the spring of 2004. Whatever dish I had ordered had delicate little touches of hummus, chutneys, pomegranate seeds and mango, which made all the difference in the world. My then-partner, who always had a knack for finding the best of everything, had found Grace and we became steady regulars from that point on. There was no favorite meal to be had because Monica changed the menu up daily, and there was always always something to satisfy.
Born in Collingwood and raised mostly in Wasaga Beach, Monica dates her passion for cooking to her decision to become a vegetarian at the age of 13. “I bought some vegetarian cookbooks and started making dishes.” Her interest never wavered, through a variety of stints in Vancouver kitchens and even a period when she found herself plucking masses of chickens on a kibbutz in Israel. She tried different professions, including as a jeweler.
Monica was working the reception at Delta Chelsea hotel in downtown Toronto when she decided not to postpone her dream anymore. “I had to take a friend with me to see potential places,” she recalls, “because I was so eager to have my place, and could only see the good things about every place I went into.”
The space itself was a run-down rooming house at the time, with stained yellow walls and half-functioning facilities, but her friend approved, and they set to work. “I scrambled together $10,000, including loans from friends,” Monica recalls. “That’s all I could get.” The furniture was culled from used goods shops and she relied on a cousin’s support and skills to build the tables and fix the walls.
Although she graduated to a full stove early on, few changes have been made since then, and that was always part of its charm. As many other brunch and cafe spaces in Toronto leaned into a monotonous, modern aesthetic and cold, promotional staff, Grace kept its slightly scrappy feel of mismatched chairs and plates, and a rotation of servers and cooks that I can best describe as “soft punk.” Monica insisted that all servers also spend time in the kitchen and know how to cook, and she tended to attract a committed group with a similarly creative flair. These were art school kids who listened and executed their duties faithfully. No giddy sales pitch at the table, no overly zealous compliments to elicit higher tips.
A collection of staff photographs over the years decorates one wall of Grace. Monica remains close to almost all of them, and most to each other. Writing from her current residence in Hawai’i, Mayuko Omura remembers her favorite part of the day came when the restaurant closed and the staff joined Monica on the bench at the front to people-watch.
The longest serving staff, Angela Abbatino, was the only one whose concoction–a spin on the BLT with avocado–found a spot on the short, permanent menu, next to Monica’s famous Rajasthani eggs.
Artist and massage therapist Romy Ceppetelli recalls one Valentine’s Day when longtime server and now-musician Robert Alfons of TR/ST made all of the staff cards with individual poems. She also talks about different eras of the restaurant. In the 2013-2014 period, which was when she worked there, Romy remembers Grace as a favorite of local and visiting celebrities. The Weeknd, Feist and Michael Cera were regulars, as well as a host of lesser-recognizable local creatives; on one of my last trips there, I ran into author Kerri Sakamoto lunching with filmmaker Helen Lee.
For many of us more regular folks, Grace over the years became more than a place to eat. Monica has been bombarded with outpourings of love and appreciation since she announced that she would close the restaurant after 25 years, to the day. Old staff have traveled far to pop in and say their goodbyes. One regular has come for brunch every single day since the announcement, and another was moved to tears, posing the question many of us have for Monica: “Where will I go now?” Not just for food, but for the nourishment the place gave to us.
Over the 20 years I had been coming to Grace, it became my temple in the city, my respite from the cold, a place where the brightness of Angela’s smile or the tenderness of virtually every interaction would provide humane comfort and quiet joy.
Many of us were thrown into panic when Monica first started musing about closing shop, and a few of us worked overtime to think of ways to take over the reins from her. But truth of the matter was that no one else could replicate the particular mix of creativity, humility and just plain love that Monica brought to Grace. On the flyer announcing its close, Monica reassured her faithful flock, “I am overjoyed to be closing, please don’t be sad.”
We are no doubt happy for and grateful to Monica for a quarter century of service, but that second part is too tall an order to fill.
photos by Frank Chu and Andil Gosine
Andil Gosine is Professor of Environmental Arts and Justice at York University and author of Nature’s Wild: Love, Sex and Law in the Caribbean.
