The building is unassuming. The neighbourhood feels up-and-coming. Upon entering the restaurant, you first see a confusing mix of industrial-chic decor, graffiti-style art, a papier-mâché flying pig, and you feel generic hipster vibes. The open-plan kitchen is on view for the entrancement of food geeks like us. 

You’ll be greeted by friendly hosts and hostesses, who are happy to take your coat and seat you. You’ll be poured ice water without having to ask. I like that. I think it’s a mark of a classy establishment when your water glass never empties. 

The menu sounds straightforward, minimalistic and a little underwhelming. The drink menu likewise. Don’t be deceived. Your life is about to change. 

Because. The food. 

Oh. Dear. God. 

The food. 

You’ll order something as simple as ‘chicken and biscuits’. Sounds ordinary. There aren’t a lot of explanatory words accompanying the very simple description — not even description. It’s just the name. So you are unaware, upon ordering, the exact nature of what you’ll be eating; the accompaniments, the spices involved, etc. You hope it’ll be a tasty spread of fried chicken and a biscuit, essentially. Perhaps, with a sauce of some kind. 

The attractively-arranged plate will be placed in front of you, and you’ll think, if you’re as ridiculous as we are with food, “This looks good! Allow me to be the food hipster I’ve become and take a photo, before diving on in!” 

And then. You’ll taste it. 

Then your taste buds will be ruined for all other foods. You’ll decide, in that moment, that you don’t want to ever eat anywhere else, and consider asking if it’s possible to move in and live here, so you can eat only here, get fatter with every passing day, and eventually die, blissfully happy and fat, in this very seat. 

You’ll regret every other meal you’ve ever had. You’ll regret not eating here sooner and wasting all those days, not knowing what was possible. You’ll regret everything ever. Everrrrr. 

Yeah okay. I could be slightly overselling it. But you get the idea. It’s just THAT freaking incredible, so I get carried away and consider quitting my job and selling my house and all my possessions so I can live In. This. Food. I concur that I may be a little too obsessed with Roost. But I love food. Food is wonderful. And well-executed, perfectly balanced food, that is served beautifully and expertly made … it makes me very happy. 

I feel like a fangirl of Head Chef Martin Danilowicz. I see him and I feel as if my favourite movie star is walking by. I’m too giddy to talk to him because I know I’ll giggle and gush and I’ll embarrass myself to the point where my husband will pretend not to know me and I’ll turn redder than the Bloody Mary. Sometimes he delivers the food himself, and I just smile and allow myself only to say “thank you”. It’s for the best. 

We’ve tried every drink on the current menu, which does change periodically, and the food menu changes weekly. This, admittedly, leads to some disappointment, when you arrive expecting to order something you then find no longer exists. But you’ll never be disappointed with any choice, because ALL of the food is ALL of the wonderful. 

We are yet to have a bad meal at Roost. Brunch is what they do best, but lunches and dinners are also incredible. But please. Take our advice. Eat here for brunch. It’s open weekends and they make wonderful drinks. Because brunch should be enjoyed while tipsy.