St Zita’s, one thing leads to another

Last Monday, which was January 25, is generally acknowledged in the northern hemisphere to be the most depressing day of the year. Sufferers of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) despair of ever again feeling the warm sun              on their backs, and probably        drink cups of afternoon tea by lamplight.
South of the Sahara Desert it’s a different story and in Harare, January 25 was a beautiful day. Just before 10 o’clock in the morning, George and I drove in bright sunshine towards Borrowdale Village, in search of breakfast.
I wondered if Borrowdale restaurateurs gave themselves a day off on Mondays, but was relieved to find at least two establishments not only open, but buzzing with activity. We tossed a coin and made our way to St Zita’s.
The tables and chairs are lightweight aluminium, but comfortable enough, and shaded by palm trees and large white umbrellas. The brick paved area tends to be slightly uneven, but amiable waiters are happy to wedge folded cardboard under the table legs to level them out.
Nothing was too much trouble for our St Zita waiter, who promised to be our waiter ‘for the day’, although we were there only for breakfast.
The healthiest sounding item on the breakfast menu was a fresh fruit salad and at the other end of the spectrum a full English breakfast. I opted for something in between — a croissant filled with ham, tomato and mozzarella cheese, for $5.
George asked for a chicken, cheese melt and sweet corn open sandwich on ciabatta, also $5. Both of these were served with a small dish of sweet chilli sauce.
The croissant was freshly baked and delicious, and generously layered with quality ingredients. George was equally enthusiastic about his chicken and cheese melt. We both ordered a latte ($1), attractively served in heavy duty glass mugs with handles.
Situated between the bank and a busy supermarket, St Zita’s is conveniently located. If you choose not to sit outside, a cool interior with whirring fans beckons. As usual, there are patrons hard at work on their laptops, completing their novels, planning their next move on the stock market or writing e-mails to friends afflicted with SAD in the cold north.
Unlike my last breakfast destination, which overlooked a peaceful koi pond and waterfall, Borro-wdale village is busy with shoppers pushing trolleys, gym bunnies rushing to and from exercise classes and a general cross section of the public going about their daily business.
Some scurry hither and thither on errands or assignments, while others sit back in the shade with a coffee latte, and watch the world go by. As we prepared to leave, our waiter wiped the table down yet again, saying he hoped, as waiter for the day, to welcome us back at lunchtime.
It was a friendly gesture, but I knew the huge croissant would see me through to the evening.
Had my appetite been larger, I would have liked to try a slice of cake described as ‘decadent’.
One thing leading to another, as so often happens — we might indeed have spent the greater part of the day at St Zita’s Brasserie.
St Zita’s Brasserie
Near ZB Bank
Borrowdale Village