Caffe Brasiliano closes doors after 50-year run
'We try to keep it dirt cheap because we know these are working class people'
For 50 years Caffe Brasiliano has been a place where the espresso's always flowing, the soccer match is always on, and every customer is treated like family.
A place where patrons stop for a cappuccino, then linger for the camaraderie.
That era ended Friday as the Conners family, who've run the cafe for the last 17 years, head into retirement and close the doors for good.
"I love it. I'm gonna miss it a lot," owner Mary Conners said on the cafe's second last day.
"A lot of these people who've come in over the years have slowly become family," adds Mary's son Kenny, who grew up in the cafe and now helps to run it. "It's hard to give that up.
"But it's time for my mom to retire — she works very hard."
One of the first to serve espresso
Ralph and Giulia Iori opened the Dundas West institution in 1967, one of the first places in the city to serve espresso. The original location on the north side of the street drew a loyal following for its veal sandwiches, including Ken Conners Sr., who started helping Ralph behind the counter.
When the Ioris were ready to retire and neither of their daughters wanted to take over, Ken left his full-time job with the city and bought the restaurant.
Mary says early days in the business were tough.
"I wasn't too happy about it, but once I started, I loved the people."
Soon the Conners were so busy they moved to a bigger location across the street. The gregarious and warm family, who serve as many hugs as they do coffees, catered to a working-class clientele who appreciated the platter-size portions that came at a decent price.
"We try to keep it dirt cheap because we know these are working class people," Kenny Jr. says. "My dad used to say 'We're not here to make a killing, we're here to make a living.'"
Cab drivers make up about half of the cafe's lunch crowd, including many Muslims from East Africa. When someone suggested Ken Sr. take pork off the menu to accommodate his customers' diet, he obliged — even if it meant tinkering with the meatball recipe.
Later, Ken built what he fondly refers to as the "UN table," a long booth in the back for the multicultural group of loyal cabbie customers.
"Because it doesn't matter who you are or where you're from; you can sit back there and feel welcome," Mary says.
Many customers have come for decades
Gaetano Tiano has come to the cafe almost every day for 28 years. He still makes the trip to Dundas West even though he now lives in Rosedale.
"It's not the food. It's not the coffee. This is Cheers," he says, referring to the '80s sitcom where everybody knows your name. "It's a collective of people. It's new immigrants, it's second generation; it's everybody."
Alison McLean pulled her three kids out of school for an extended lunch Thursday for one last trip to the spot her kids know simply as "Kenny's."
McLean remembers when, as a new mom, she brought her newborn to the cafe and the ladies in the kitchen passed her around for a look. If she had to scoot to the washroom, the Eritrean cab drivers would babysit.
"The coffee's outstanding and the veal sandwiches are amazing, and the family that runs this place is just lovely, lovely people. We're really going to miss them."
Many customers have used the restaurant as a backdrop for wedding or engagement pictures, says Kenny, a tribute to the cafe's role in their relationship.
A changing neighbourhood
On Thursday, as a steady stream of customers came for a final lunch, Mary greeted many by name and already knew their order.
Kenny Jr. admits that business has slowed over the last couple years as the neighbourhood transforms. The older Italians and Portuguese are cashing in on the housing boom and leaving, he says, and a new condo is going up across the street.
"Most people who are buying these new houses — not everybody — but for most people there's no sense of community anymore. They're too busy trying to live their lives."
He will continue selling coffee wholesale from his home down the street.
Mary worries where the cabbies will go now. "Who's going to treat them like we do?" she asks.
As mom and son joke they could write an award-winning script about some of the characters they've served over the years, they offer each other a comforting hug.
"He's a great son," says Mary. "That's all I have to say."