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On a good day, the folks at Hibiscus (at 238 August Ave in Kensington Market) seem a bit ruffled under the feathers.

It’s not that they’re angry or displeased with their jobs.

There’s just a lot of running around, back and forth, semi-frazzled appearances, and a general, okay, “What now, what now?” environment.

Despite those frantic lunch rush hours, I do like Hibiscus. After a diet of beige and brown-coloured foods, it’s a nice, quick de-tox fix. Once I step in the door, I feel like the trash from my intestines is slowly exiting my system.

My body is, once again, albeit temporarily, a temple.

The food is great and the people incredibly darling, but no matter how many times I return, the usability of the restaurant confuses me.

No one greets me at the door (because they’re running around most of the time), so I’m not sure if I’m meant to sit down, stand at the counter, walk to the salad cooler, or wrap my leg around my head to get some service. Appears I’m not the only one, considering the other customers did a random assortment of the first three options.

After servers glancing at me as they rushed back and forth from the kitchen, I figured I’d take the sitting option and let them come to me.

Needless to say, speed and efficient service is not their forte.

But the food and decor — fresh, organic, and east-coast kitchenesque — takes all of those concerns off my mind.

Connie