The Modern Bakeshop & Cafe — Restaurant in Revelstoke

I sent an email to the cafe over a week ago and received no response. Posting a condensed version of my message here for awareness: I noticed that your café and bakery offers “gluten-free options” but states that you do not accommodate celiac disease. I wanted to share my concerns about this policy, as it contributes to misunderstandings and barriers for individuals with celiac disease who must strictly avoid gluten for medical reasons. I have been diagnosed with Celiac disease for over a decade now. I want to highlight why this message can feel dismissive and contributes to the isolation many people with celiac experience when dining out.

Celiac disease is an autoimmune disorder where consuming gluten can cause illness. For many people with celiac disease, seeing “gluten-free” on a menu signals a safe option, but disclaimers like "we do not accommodate celiacs" feels dismissive and confusing. It suggests that gluten-free offerings are more of a dietary preference than a necessity for our health. It's quite likely you have served Celiacs who saw gluten free on your menu, and did not see your disclaimer. It is also not a reasonable requirement to have customers reveal their health diagnosis in order to eat there. What is required is clear and open communication, staff training, and willingness to answer questions.

I understand that ensuring a completely gluten-free environment is not possible when you also serve products containing gluten. That is true of most restaurants, cafes and bakeries. I have dined in many similar establishments to yours who are able to successfully accommodate celiac disease through thoughtful kitchen practices, staff training, and transparent communication. Even if you are unable to guarantee a 100% gluten-free kitchen, educating your team and providing clear explanations of your procedures can make a big difference and shows care.

Instead of stating you don’t accommodate celiac disease, you might consider framing the message in a way that respects the seriousness of the condition — for example:

"We offer gluten-free options, but please be aware that our kitchen handles gluten-containing ingredients. Please ask staff for more information."

This approach informs customers of potential risks without excluding those with medical gluten restrictions outright. It also invites open dialogue, giving diners the chance to decide whether your establishment feels safe for them.

For people with celiac disease, even trace amounts of gluten can cause issues, so we often need to ask detailed questions about food...

I stopped by The Modern this morning for a coffee and treat. I have always enjoyed this little gem of a café and thought I would provide a review that may assist the bakeshop in developing their team and approach to customer service. When we popped in today we were cautious (the global pandemic thing) only to find an unmasked woman blocking the only means of ordering and chatting at length about her friend who has a mountain bike or something. We waited as we thought she was still ordering. The woman working behind the counter just stood there with her mouth open, which I find to be quite typical of customer service in the Nelson to Revelstoke corridor. No movement. No life. Just gapped right out. After about five minutes we asked if we could order and this brought the café employee back to our world. She took our order and then handed us our coffees. No pleasantries. No anything. I just stood there for a while, again, and then asked if she would be getting the pastries I ordered “oh yeah…forgot”, but there was no one in line and she wasn’t doing anything. I just don’t get it. People come in with money to spend and have to deal with this kind of staffing.

On another note, the pastries/food are always delicious and I will totes be going back but would go anywhere else comparable if I didn't have to deal with the gapper-style approach to...

If you're looking for the worst café experience of your life, congratulations—you've found it. This place is less "cozy coffee shop" and more "sad waiting room with espresso machines."

I ordered a cappuccino and received what I can only describe as hot beige disappointment in a cup. It tasted like it had passed through three different coffee machines and a mild existential crisis before reaching me. The foam was confused—was it supposed to be milk? Soap suds? Who knows.

The croissant I got was so stale, I think I chipped a tooth. Honestly, I'm impressed. They’ve achieved a rare culinary feat: something that looks like food but legally shouldn’t be eaten.

The staff? Somewhere between "mildly annoyed by your presence" and "actively plotting your demise." I smiled. They sighed. I asked a question. They vanished.

Ambience-wise, if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to sip coffee inside a sad beige cube filled with the faint smell of mop water and regret, this is your chance.

Would I go back? Only if I lost a bet. Or was...