Walking into Bread and Butter feels like you’re entering grandma’s house. It’s cozy and old fashioned, the smell of food beckons coyly, and there’s a warmth (in terms of temperature and hospitality) that feels familiar.

And just like my grandma, meal begins with soup. Their goulash ($9) arrives steaming hot and emits a comforting fragrance. I could taste the spices teeming in the broth, creating a rich flavour profile with a hint of heat. Filled with chunks of beef, vegetables, and fluffy teaspoon-sized dumplings, it’s a hearty soup that could become a meal with a side dish. I did find it a tad oily but may work if you’re soaking up the broth with bread.

Bread and Butter’s schnitzel sandwich ($12) is assembled-to-order with a choice of bun (Kaiser, cheese, or onion) and protein (chicken or veal). I dressed mine with mayonnaise, pickles, hot peppers, and lettuce to augment the lightly breaded chicken schnitzel. In retrospect, I’d leave out the pickles as they’re the sweet variety detracting from the savouriness of the sandwich.

If you’re already having soup, it’s a good idea to share the sandwich with another person as it’s huge. If only the chicken cutlet were hot, the dish would be incredible. Still, I understand with the limited staff their ability to freshly fry or even heat up the schnitzel is difficult.

With a display case of cakes and pastries, I opted for a slice of apple strudel ($5; estimated based on bill total) to go. There must be a full apple per slice as the pastry was essentially chopped and sliced apples surrounded by layers of phyllo. While the spices were delicious and the sweetness spot on, the apple’s skin were left on, so the chewy bits took away from the lusciousness of the dessert.

Ultimately, you’re going to Bread and Butter for their warm hospitality and homemade food (all made in house except for maybe the buns). It’s not a place with professional chefs and over-the-top presentation. And if a delicious goulash and hearty sandwich doesn’t impress, then go for the schnitzel benedict. Grandma’s whipping up something new. 

Fismuler operates with an efficiency that seems apt for it’s German sounding name. Not long after sitting down, a starter of bread and whipped paté was brought over while we settled in. Just be mindful the nibble costs 2.75€ a person, a fact detailed at the bottom of the menu we had yet to review. Still, we enjoyed the soft crusty bread, silky and light paté, and thin lightly pickled cucumbers that helped tide us over.

The small plates were the more impressive dishes of the evening. Consequently, the crusty bread goes nicely with everything so try not to devour it right away. The sweet tomato salad (13.50€) was simple but deliciously good - ripe sliced tomatoes topped with a fragrant olive oil and flakes of salt.

It complements the burrata (17€), which has an amazing spicy green mole giving the cheese a burst of flavour. In fact, the whole dish was different: the burrata accompanied with roasted broccolini, an unusual green that works. I could have easily had an order to myself.

When our server suggested the chicken wings (18.50€) I had my doubts, but the nuggets of fried deboned chicken tossed in a creamy truffle sauce were addictive. The sauce, of course, became an excuse to have even more bread.

Of the small plates, only the fresh calamari (20.50€) was a bust. The seafood was over cooked, way over salted, and hidden amongst so much unnecessary foam. Give me more of the chicken wings any day.

Still, the calamari was better than the egregiously overdone and tough duck (25.50€), one of the worst renditions of the dish I’ve ever had. Perhaps, it could have been salvaged if the duck was cut thinner… even then, I feel they would still be chewy. The side dishes weren’t any better: the charred corn turned out to be the canned variety and the spring onions left whole and unseasoned. The best part of the dish was the puréed sweet potatoes.

I wish I had heeded the server’s recommendation to order the Viennese schnitzel (29€). Pounded to a cardboard thinness and the size of a pizza, the schnitzel gets a thin coating of raw egg yolk tableside before being jazzed up with shaved truffles and chives. It was perhaps a touch salty, but at least it was crispy and not overdone.

To classify Café Landwer into a type of eatery is difficult. Their menu is as eclectic as Pickle Barrel’s, a mix of Arabic, German, and American dishes that don’t seem to go together, but somehow is listed on the same page. Moreover, the food options are so extensive that it hardly seems like a café. It’s not until you learn about their history, it starts to make sense.

The company first started as Landwer Coffee (named after owner Moshe Landwer) as a roasting facility and coffee bar in Berlin. As the Nazi began rising in power, Moshe decided to move his family to Tel Aviv, well before WW2 would stop them and here  the roasting facility was re-opened and grew in prominence until it was finally sold to a larger conglomerate in the 1980s. Seeing the potential of the brand, Federman & Son’s expanded it into a chain of casual restaurants in Israel, which eventually went global with locations in Canada and the USA. Hence, their menu has Middle Eastern and German elements, with Western dishes like burgers and pizza added to please all.

While you’re waiting for the mains, a hummus bowl is a great starter. The shawarma version ($14) starts with a base of thick silky hummus, drizzles on olive oil, and fills it with juicy chunks of chicken shawarma that’s incredibly flavourful.

The one topped with four small crisp falafels ($13) is just as good. Café Landwer’s creations are fluffy and moist and have a lovely green hue from the pulverized herbs mixed into it.

At first, we nursed the piece of fresh from the oven stone-baked bread since the hummus to bread ratio seemed off. Boy was it good, the hot steaming bread with the cool shawarma hummus, and a slice of pickle. We were essentially creating our own sandwiches. Once the bread was done, our server offered to bring another piece ($1). This could have easily been a meal for one.

Landwer’s famous schnitzel ($19) is good with the pork pounded thinnly, the bread crumb coating applied lightly, and cooked just long enough so that everything is still moist. It’d be even better with more salt as it was under seasoned and really needed a condiment. The ketchup accompanying the fries seemed off, my husband ended up using the tzatziki from my main, better than nothing.

Generally, it seems like Landwer under seasons their dishes. While the grilled salmon ($23) had a lovely citrusy za’atar crust, it didn’t have a speck of salt. Even the Landwer’s rice, despite incorporating caramelized onions, lentils, almonds, and being so richly hued was rather bland. In hindsight, I wish I would have just tried to flag down a server to bring us salt… it’s such a common spice that would have really made everything much tastier.

With that in mind, on a return visit I rolled the dice on having Mediterranean shakshuka ($15.95) instead. There was no way a cast iron pan of stewed tomatoes with chunks of feta would be bland. Thankfully, the bet paid off and it was indeed as full flavoured as I hoped, the tomatoes nice and thick with some onion and big chunks of eggplant. My only mistake was asking for the eggs done medium, they arrived rock hard so there was no runny yolk to dip the hot pita into. Note to self: always get the underdone since the hot pan will continue to cook them.

A bit of pita was the tomato sauce topped with nutty tahini or the cool creamy lebnah was even better. I can see why Landwer’s brunch menu is so popular as this is where the mains shine. It only puzzles me why people bother to wait for a table when there’s an all-day breakfast section on their dinner menu - I’d happily have brunch for dinner any day. When the sun starts to go down, why not tuck into a hot pan of tomatoes and eggs with a fluffy yeasty warm pita? Sweet dreams, indeed.