Get Well — Restaurant in Toronto

It was a Friday night like any other, slightly humid from the earlier rainstorm. I walked down Dundas heading eastward, passing through the clouds of smokers, under the warm glow of patio lanterns and street lamps. I was heading for the streetcar stop on the corner of Dundas and Ossington, when walking past one of the bars I caught scent of the most magnificent earthy aroma to ever grace my nose.

I made eye contact with the doorman, tipping my cap. He nodded at me, giving me an affirmative signal to enter. I stepped into the bar and found myself under a rainbow of glowing glass, serenaded by the longing voice of David Berman, and the crack of pinball flippers. It was like entering a dreamscape. I had to ground myself in something familiar, as to not get overwhelmed, so I headed for Ms Pac-Man.

I reached into my pocket, digging for loose change. To my disbelief, I was dry, having spent the last of my quarters doing laundry earlier that afternoon. All of a sudden one of the bartenders appears on my left, reaches down to the machine, and with a gleam of charity and joy in their eye announces “All of the games are free to play”, and the whole bar cheered and raised a toast. (Except pinball which I was alerted costs $1 which seems perfectly reasonable to be fair)

I maneuvered the lovely puck shaped lady around, making a few simple errors, missing a cherry, or a peach, and getting cornered by Blinky, Pinky, and the lot. I ordered a beer to help settle my nerves, pressing the ice cold bottle of Miller High Life to my lips. The crisp, perfectly chilled beer awoken something deep inside of me. I returned to the arcade machine, pressing the start button one final time.

With my hand firmly grasping the joystick, and my Miller High Life clutched in the other, I danced around the screen with the grace of a thousand swans. I never missed a fruit, swerving in and out of the neon laneways. By the 20th level, I had amassed something of a crowd of spectators. They were all silent during levels, only breaking to clap during the between stage cutscenes. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, I had reached the final 32nd level, and with the keen skill of a veteran fighter pilot, I shifted my way to victory. When Ms Pac-Man gobbled the last pellet, a roar from the crowd erupted. I shed a single tear and bowed towards my faithful supporters.

By now I had a grumbling in my stomach, the likes of which could only be satisfied by the sweet ambrosiac smell that had lured me into the bar in the first place. I made my way to the back, my rosy face glowing in the light of the bulbs spelling out my destiny, “PIZZA”. Standing in the window was a cheery fellow, hair tucked neatly back behind a bandana. He had just taken a pizza out of the oven, I watched it shine in the kitchen lights, steaming and releasing a sweet earthy aroma. I told the man that I would have a slice of whatever that was, he nodded, punching the order into the cash register. He smiled with a profound innocence and joy about him, like the Santa Claus of pizza, asking that I kindly wait to the side, and that he would have my order out momentarily.

I took my slice back to an isolated table in the corner where I could reflect upon the beautiful night I’d had so far. The first bite was heaven, the way the creamy goat cheese danced with the earthy portobello mushroom, only followed by the sultry tango of peppery arugula, and finished by a sweet cry of balsamic glaze. Every bite followed was no less magnificent.

I finished my slice, unable to speak, unable to find the words that would describe the beauty of what I had just consumed. I locked eyes with the pizza man, giving a simple wave and made my way through the crowd to the exit. I wished the doorman a goodnight, and stepped out into the crowded streets.

Thank...

I don't usually write reviews but I was so disheartened by the way Get Well staff treated my friends tonight—it was abysmal. I came to join an impromptu family birthday celebration and felt the tension in the room. Apparently, the staff at Get Well was upset about this party of 10-12 or so not having called beforehand—nowhere on their website does it say to call beforehand FYI so it was a big assumption for the staff to make on the customer's side. It was very empty inside the establishment (Monday night) and the party of 10-12 fit on one table, sat around said table for the most part, ordered pizza and beer. Throughout the night, the staff at Get Well treated us unpleasantly, sending messages loud and clear that we were not welcomed there. We were so uncomfortable that the mother and father of my friend went to speak to them. They came back even more upset and we left shortly after they charged us $15 to cut a cake (clearly out of spite and extremely passive aggressive). I don't know what was said but the whole night was filled with micro-aggressions and things got more passive aggressive/tense as the night went on. It was disheartening for me to witness a family that has recently been through a lot to not be allowed to celebrate a birthday in peace. I know there are two sides of each story and I am sure that the Get Well staff has their own "justifications" but observing this situation left a bad taste. We should treat each other with more kindness and accommodate each other when we can—especially when it costs us nothing to do so. Being warm and treating customers with respect should be the default of any good establishment, even when you think someone made a mistake—I can guarantee this community did not know they had to call before hand nor were they being rowdy. It is really sad, Get Well, that when people are being honest about not feeling welcome in the space, your response is to escalate...

Add together free arcade games, booze and pizza with loud music, and what do you get? You get well....hehe...

After coming for a friend's birthday, I've become a big fan and I seriously love the vibe of this place. It's incredibly dark, as you can tell by the photos, but you don't need much light to play rescue the princess as Donkey Kong or score in pinball. I found that some of the games are a bit buggy but it's likely due to ancient (but authentic) machines. It's a very chill and laid back atmosphere to come with your friends for a drink and a few games of Frogger.

There's a couch and a random but surprisingly good pizzeria (North of Brooklyn) in the back of the house. I tried the popular "killer bee" - spicy sausage and honey, among other things. The crust is paper thin and it's a bit difficult to eat without it falling apart...I think it was $5 even for a slice? I was still hungry so I went across the street to get a delicious Portuguese tart (shout out to the security guard for letting me back in).

The line gets pretty long once the place gets full, but there's no cover fee. Arrive early and...