Guilty Pleasures

I just started an affair...

A shot of vodka. Some melted dark German chocolate. A driblet of wild honey. An almond. A walnut.

I mix them up, languid swirling motions with my teaspoon. Half-listening to conversation which may or may not have been directed at me. But I remember Annie Lennox's Something So Right in the background, a palliative for the weary. Excitement builds up as the drink gets closer and closer to the consistency I want. I lay the teaspoon down to rest, bits of dark chocolate dripping onto the white saucer. A flaw on the immaculate, but nevertheless beautiful.

I hold off drinking and focus my attention on dinner-table talk. Half the pleasure of the experience is knowing how much I crave it, yet denying myself gratification.

Finally, I give in. The warm, the bitter, the sweet: a sensuous explosion.

Thus began my affair with Mel Gibson.

(The Mel Gibson vodka shot at Van Gogh is Bipolar, 154 Maginhawa St., Sikatuna Village, QC)

In pursuit of...

I felt right at home even before I crossed the threshold. A welcome mat has never been so inviting. Inside, the waft of cool artificial climate made me realize just how hot the noonday sun was.

The first thing I noticed was a table by the wall, decked with small clay teapots-- glazed, handpainted or left in their raw, unembellished form-- and ceramic jars filled with the promise of a soothing tea adventure.

Mounted on the walls are big frames: thumbnail photographs in a sea of black matting. On the far end of the room, only handwriting adorns the walls. In pen, in ink, in paint-- sentimental or whimsical outpourings of the instrument-wielder. Admittedly, there is much pleasure to be gained from reading these musings from faceless strangers.

The owner of the place served the food with a smile that lit up the entire room. Radiating warmth like an old friend, he eagerly answered the numerous questions about the food and other interesting pieces around. He writes, he sews, he cooks, he takes photographs and he makes art out of most anything he touches. Midas, up close and personal.

The food is divine, but more than that, the entire menu was designed for the specific purpose of nourishment while giving a boost of happy hormones. The premise of the menu alone gives a welcome surge of delight.

It's a restaurant, a cafe, a living/art space-- call it what you will. Van Gogh is Bipolar, most certainly, is a unique experience that explores the elusive art of being happy.