Breaking barriers with every bite

Who wouldn’t like to go to a restaurant that is designed especially for them? Since about half of my three-person family is neurodivergent, we were happy to head to 1056 Bloor Street West, downtown Toronto, where Sarang Kitchen is located. Sarang Kitchen is a sensory-friendly restaurant. It provides a welcoming space for customers – particularly families with children – who are neurodivergent. It is also a social enterprise: the team includes people who are neurodivergent, and everybody gets paid a living wage with health benefits. Established in 2023 as the first restaurant of its kind in Toronto, it proudly carries the banner “Breaking Barriers, One Platter at a Time.”

A staff member I spoke to described working for Sarang as a world of difference from her past place of employment, another ethnic restaurant which was far more about work with no sense of community. She said the staff team at Sarang are almost like a family. “This thing [Sarang Kitchen] is needed,” she said. “Every mind is needed, so this thing is needed.” In fact, she said, there are plans to soon open a second Sarang in the East end of the city.

“The truth is, it’s not that difficult to make things accessible – to have visual aids in your training manuals or to have sensory tools available for neurodivergent patrons,” Jennifer Low, co-founder of Sarang Kitchen and a behaviour support specialist and teacher said last year in an interview. “Neurodivergent people have unique talents and strengths. They deserve meaningful employment and accommodating spaces where they can go out and enjoy themselves.”

Stimuli

Designed for us or not, I needed some time to manage my expectations once I was there. I had expected a place with a tranquil appearance, natural materials, a sense of order, probably limited use of technology and calming music to soothe the senses. Instead, we were greeted with fairly loud music – not because we were special, but because the staff liked it, I suppose to dispel the quiet of the Sunday lunch hour. The music turned out to be K-pop (Korean popular music). They were happy to turn it down for us, of course. By the way, it turns out that some neurodiverse or neurodivergent people need additional stimuli instead of fewer ones. That was news to me.

There were other things. The tables shift around easily – very easily, for convenience in rearranging them – and the walls are concrete. There are different options for seating: booths of different sizes, as well as bean bag chairs and low tables. There are paper posters taped on the wall with Spotify playlist options and other announcements, and the menu is accessed through a QR code, so technology is everywhere. A staff member explained that the menu keeps changing and by doing things digitally they do not have to print new menus all the time. Sarang Kitchen discourages tipping which means customers do not have to do calculations and all staff receive the same pay. I like that; I like clarity. (I cordially hate the fact that prices in North America normally do not include tax.)

Fried chicken

Expectations can be tricky, especially in a foreign country. I know that well, but continue to get taken by surprise. I was aware that Sarang Kitchen’s cuisine is Korean – the very useful BlogTO has reviewed them – but I had kind of blanked on their byline “Fried Chicken and Bar.” Well, that’s what it is: the menu focuses on fried food, in particular halal chicken, either with bone or boneless (to provide sensory options), or deep-fried cauliflower for vegetarians. The “bar” part of the byline kicks in after nine pm, at which time the neurodiversity-inclusion ambitions make room for Toronto nightlife.

Being more veggie-oriented people, Brenda and I got the cauliflower, which was tasty but did not quite match the chicken, which was delicious. We ordered the chicken for Lydia, who made sure I did not eat too much of it – as a responsible seven-year-old, she knows my weaknesses.

Lydia had no problem feeling at ease at Sarang. She appreciated the music and the engaging atmosphere of the place: bean bags to sit on if you wanted, the colourful signs and mirrors on the wall.

Toys & plastic fish

We picked up a box of what Lydia called “toys.” It contained a poppit fidget, a small stuffy and a few other trinkets. The various “toys” are for people who need extra sensory stimuli for self-regulation. Lydia and Brenda also appreciated the noise-reduction headphones: we could still talk normally, but they created a more tranquil atmosphere. It was a bit disconcerting though, Brenda commented, to realize how much noise is part of our normal life after experiencing the peacefulness of quiet.

Even more fun was what Lydia called the “nursery.” Sarang Kitchen considers it a multi-sensory room. There were dimmed lights, a variety of light effects, a solid wooden door that could be closed, meditation pillows, a weighted blanket and a transparent tube with water and fish swimming around in it. (Admittedly, they were plastic fish.) Again, one is never too old for surprises. The weighted blanket was very pleasant, as it conveys a sense of stability.

Lydia has been asking when we will go back to the restaurant, as the chicken breading is “the best.” We will go back for sure. When we do, perhaps I will overcome my partly inherited, partly spouse-encouraged Dutch frugality and order more dishes or try a variety of sauces. I feel we missed out on some things. A rabbi friend once told me that missing out on the good things God created should be considered a sin – within the bounds of religion, of course. (My wife might say that missing out creates longing and provides an excuse to return.)

It became clear to us that there are probably many ways to design an inclusive restaurant, and that having more of them with different cuisines (and fair wages!) would be a wonderful thing. Knowing what to expect (fidget toys and a quiet room to retreat to) can make spaces more welcoming to a range of people, such as active children or adults who spend too much time on their phones. Sarang Kitchen is a place where people with diverse sensory needs can find comfort, joy and belonging – “one platter at a time.”