Mes Amis

A week ago, I headed downtown for a Sunday brunch. Despite having been in Ottawa for a year, this was the first time I was seeing people outside of family. It's true that get-togethers have been scarce since the pandemic, but it was also caused by the intervening years.

Though the restaurant was on Bank St. near Somerset, I walked along Elgin St. to get some Japanese cheesecake from Uncle Tetsu. I then meandered down a few side streets to get to Tamis Cafe. During my stroll, I noticed two things. First, the smattering of older buildings was a reminder how beautiful Ottawa might have been if the city had done a better job of preserving downtown. Second, though there has been an influx of new condos, it was still mostly a ghost town. West-End and downtown Toronto would be bustling especially on the week-end. Even the quieter East-End neighbourhoods would have more activities.

One reason was that Ottawans don't go downtown. After our brunch, my friends admitted that they haven't visited the city core in years. So they were surprised by the new shops and condos. Tamis itself was a filipino restaurant that had traditional decorations but also a modern vibe. The latter was accomplished by keeping a lot of the aesthetic of the previous tenant, a 16-year martini bar and gastro-pub called The Buzz. This combination didn't quite work for me. They should also add some heavy drapes by the entrance to keep the cold out. Every time someone opened the front-door, we received a blast of freezing air.

We ordered our own dishes (I opted for the dasilog at $17.75) and shared a sisig appetizer ($19.95). The latter came out sizzling hot with specks of oil that unfortunately spattered on the waiter's hand. The sauteed pork belly and ears, mixed with egg, were rich and chewy. My main was fried bangus (milkfish), fried rice, two sunny-side up eggs, and toast. It wasn't prepared as expertly as Lamesa in Toronto, but this was the first meal I've had in Ottawa that was flavourful. I would be interested in returning for their Kamayan platters.

Fit To Be Fried

Two weeks back, during my stay in Toronto, I decided to go to Sunday yoga class at the old studio. I was prevaricating as the vigorous style was no longer a good fit for me. It was one of those days where I kept missing the next transit connection by a minute or two. But with frequent schedules thanks to the TTC, I made it just as class started. In Ottawa, I would have been at least 30 minutes late. And in some studios where they insist on promptness, I'd be out of luck.

Once again, it was an advanced and strenuous class requiring extreme cardio stamina, core strength, and flexibility. There were mostly regulars and a smattering of new yogis. Despite gaps of a few months between visits, I didn't see any "semi-familiar" faces. That is, someone who has been attending for less than a year. The instructor has been dialing up the difficulties over time to satisfy the old-timers. In my opinion, this has now left new attendees intimidated or frustrated, so they drop out after a month or two.

After class, I stopped off at Bobbie Sue for some mac and cheese. This was a regular spot when I was still in the neighbourhood. I don't remember the cost of the last few years but $9.95 for a small 5-cheese Classic was a bump from $6 back in 2017. I ate my lunch at a bench on College St. while people-watching and seeing how much business Barbershop Patisserie was getting post-pandemic. The pasta wasn't as satisfying as before, either due to nostalgia or the workers reducing the cheese amount so it didn't have the same gooey chew.

With detours and traffic, it took longer than usual to get back to my friend's house. I felt lethargic and this ennui lasted a few days. It wasn't just physical tiredness though. Leaving my apartment meant staying with a relative, a friend, a sublet, different airBnBs, or a hotel. Since none of these were my own place, I've felt a bit unmoored and not totally comfortable this past year.

On Tuesday, before my return to Ottawa, I went to Esquina Salvadorena at Jane and Lawrence. This eatery was eclectically filled with a combination of South American and Halloween décor. I ordered a quesabirria with soup ($24). Like my first taste of steamed tacos, my first experience of "fried taco-quesadilla" was outstanding. The crunchy shells held thick, melted cheese and tender stewed beef. More of that beef was also part of the tasty soup. This could make an excellent plant-based choice, perhaps with some shredded young jackfruit. Its substantial portion size would also be more satisfying than the vegan choices at La Bartola.

To catch the train at Union Station, I headed up to Weston Village to catch the southbound UP Express, a direct train connection between Pearson airport and Union. The first and only time I've tried this route was in the other direction. I was surprised by the number of morning commuters who were also using it. I supposed that if you were working downtown, it was a quicker transit option than local buses.

I've been sick since my return with something I probably caught at Massey Hall. But more worryingly, my other condition seemed to have worsened and become more chronic. More than just a source of neuroticism,  this could be an actual physical problem that requires medical treatment.

All Things Must Pass

I headed to Bloorcourt on Saturday. I saw that Café Paradise, once Caldense Bakery and now part of the revamped Paradise Theatre, has finally opened. Likewise, a presentation centre was operating at Bloor and Dovercourt for the 11-story condo that will be built there. I myself was in the area to see my dentist. Like all previous dentists I've used, they seem to charge more (3 scaling units) than for actual services rendered (15 minutes). But at least they did the cleaning instead of delegating to an assistant and only dropping in for a 1-minute checkup. When he asked me if I had received my Covid booster shot, I braced internally for an antivax screed. But he only wanted to tout the (alleged) benefits of Novavax over the other vaccines.

I made my way through Dufferin Mall to get some groceries at No Frills. The "Dirty Duff" has been nicely cleaned up for years now. But the surrounding area has gotten temporarily scruffier. 3 large schools (Bloor Collegiate, Kent School, and Brockton HS aka Bloordale Beach) are being demolished to make way for new construction. Once Dufferin Mall starts its own renovation and upgrade, traffic will be hell including for the loved/hated Dufferin "29 Sufferin" bus.

I dropped by for a short chat with the owner of Arabesque then walked along College St. until Spadina. The closures due to the pandemic or Toronto's crazy rent continued apace. Some like Tazak Kabob (once Burgatory, Hey Meatballs) barely lasted 2 years. But I was surprised that a number of decades-old stalwarts folded: Portuguese Chicken Guy (i.e., Churras Queira Oliveira), Kalendar (immortalized in a 2000s car commercial), and Mars Food (est. 1951).

When I returned to my lodgings, my friend had spent their birthday cleaning the house. They wanted to go to Pho 90 in the Stockyards for dinner, despite the food being "not that great" the last time. I was skeptical of the place even though my mom saw it profiled on youtube. But these videos felt like commercial shills.

It was terrible food. My vegan pho ($13.95) was bland even though they substituted the regular beef broth for the veggie one. The toppings were literally just raw greens thrown into the soup. According to my friend, their Bun Bo Hue ($17.95) used old broth on the verge of going bad. They barely touched their food. We both agreed that the runny mess of the Seafood Crispy Noodles ($19.95) ordered by their teen was a travesty of this dish. Only the mango salad ($14.95) was edible but overpriced. In fact, everything was too expensive. Finally, this experience confirmed my recent misgivings with online reviews and ratings because Pho 90 has stellar marks with Google and other websites. But being part of a busy outdoor mall, they'll breeze along for years to come.

Me Chuff for Massey Stuff

My sibling and their family came over for a Thanksgiving brunch on Monday before my trip and brought some chicken from Mary Brown's. Ottawa has gone gaga for this Southern Chicken by way of Newfoundland franchise. Oddly enough, I had never heard of them even though the GTA has had stores since the 70s. Staying in Toronto and being on a mostly plant-based diet meant that, like last time, I didn't visit any Caribbean restaurants in the Eglinton and Weston area (except for the vegan V's Caribbean). But since I already ate meat this week, I decided to finally sample some jerk chicken from a local business.

Stepping inside Meechies on Friday was a throwback to places like Vena's Roti and Caribbean Queen with faded menus and eager regulars. For $10.50, my small chicken dinner was overflowing with rice and peas, chicken, and macaroni. The rice was dry and could have used more of the oxtail curry sauce. But the chicken was glorious and flavourful. If Ottawa is flustered over heavily breaded chicken, how would they respond to nicely seasoned fare? On the other hand, the fact that Jerk King has several locations means Toronto wasn't immune to mediocre food.

For their birthday I took my friend and their teen that evening to a concert at Massey Hall. This was their first show in a real venue. The friend because some immigrants stay within their bubble and don't integrate socially with the mainstream culture. The child because they were still too young for shows: all-ages are rarer now in Toronto and popular artists (like their idol Olivia Rodrigro) cost too much. With millions in recent renovation at Massey, they were blown away by the grandeur inside.

Dwayne Gretzky was also an easy sell. My guests might not have known all the tunes compared to the capacity crowd but there were recognizable hit songs. Massey was a long way for this "cover band supergroup" from their start at the Dakota Tavern (their genesis was actually a little bit earlier). For this august occasion, Gretzky started with the one-two punch of In The Air Tonight and Don't Stop Me Now. Over two sets, the performers brought the big guns: I Will Always Love You (Meg Contini), Piece of My Heart (Carleigh Aikins), Under Pressure (Tyler Kite).

New-comer James Baley got some of the biggest cheers. His high-energy stage presence electrified Easy Like Sunday Morning and Sledgehammer. These songs were usually sung by Lydia Persaud but they still had some powerful performances including Somebody To Love to close the final set. This number soared with 7 singers on harmonies. It wasn't the only one that was goosed by such depth in backing vocals. When Jill Harris took on Like A Prayer, it was practically a religious experience for the crowd.

For the final song in the encore, though Dwayne was rushing to wrap things up before the 11 pm deadline, it was appropriate that Tyler (the "heart and soul" of the group) finished with Dancing In The Dark. The entire band took a well-deserved bow to thunderous applause.

17/10/2022: The jerk chicken lunch special ($5.99) at Meechie was excellent: moist and soft rice, tender chicken with crispy skin, and a nice kick to the sauce. From a recent picture hanging over the counter, the owner was 78. He looked to be in great health moving around the kitchen. But get your fix before another slice of old-school Toronto disappears.

The Replacements

I'm back in Toronto for a few days. One reason was the birthday of a friend. Last year just before I left, we celebrated in Koreatown with some eats. We have other plans for this year. Though I'm staying at their place, them managing two businesses means we only talked in short snippets. One good news was a troublesome sibling was moving an hour away for work, after years of failing at various MLM schemes and surviving on the family dole.

Thursday night, I headed down to The Horseshoe Tavern to see some local bands. Frank Moyo was first on deck. His bio described himself as a "busking bard" and there was some folky-pop vibes in the earnest lyrics. Yet the modern cadence and rhyme of songs like House in LA and Bedside Love Song, along with the chill vibe of the band, reminded me more of acoustic covers of forgettable R'n'B. There was also a paean (in 2022) to WWII soldiers (Boys of Major) and an Italian original (OK Dolce). The latter was my favourite perhaps because it departed from standard pop and I didn't understand the lyrics.

I was more into the second band headed by Rachel Bobbitt because she mostly avoided the typical love song and sang about problematic relatives (Call Inside The House), women not wanting children (More), and being a twin (Gemini Ties). At least half of her band (drummer, bassist) was a last-minute replacement due to Covid and other problems. I don't know if that was also the case with the lead guitarist because the harmonic interaction between them was outstanding.

The drummer and bassist also subbed in for headliner Housewife (formerly duo Moscow Apartment composed of Brighid Fry and Pascale Padilla). Their lead guitarist was also a sub which meant that Fry was the only permanent member tonight. This was inauspicious for their 1st EP under the new moniker. There were also problems with the backing/click tracks. So for few moments here and there things threatened to fall apart sonically. But Housewife was saved by the quality of the songs: body image (Annie), cat-calls (New Girl), toxicity (Awful People). All these folk-pop tunes were played live with a harder rock sound. Even the new You're Not The Worst (You want to write your poetry on the beach/But your poetry is shit) transformed into an Avril Lavigne punk-ish anthem. The absence of Padilla and the stage banter between them and Fry was sorely missed. I hope Padilla's no-show was only due to some temporary hiccup and not a departure. That would make Halfway, an ode to their friendship and musical collab, too poignant.

I don't usually include ticket prices (as opposed to food costs) in my posts but the $25 cover for 3 local bands (with small Baby G-sized crowds) crossed a psychological threshold for me. Thanks to time and inflation, gone were the $7 and $10 shows. That's to be expected. But the loss of local record shops selling tickets with a small markup is also a factor. Online vendors charge fees comparable to TicketMaster. A $15 show that became a $21 online purchase and then $25 at the door was quite a price-gouge. I don't envy young folks managing the high cost of living in Toronto, including ticket prices, while trying to have a social life.

Seeing Is Believing

It has been a couple of weeks since I visited Montreal. I went back to Ottawa two Fridays ago but not before I stopped off at Joe La Croute for some baguette ($2.70) and croissant ($2.10). I was intrigued to see an old couple stepping inside this small bakery next to the Jean Talon market on Thursday. I found out that they opened at 6 in the morning and so early Friday, I walked over at 7 to get some fresh baked goods and finished packing. Finally, some excellent treats at a great price.

Since that trip, I thought about my first impression of Montreal. This will be mostly a list complaints. But I want to be clear that the city was wonderful. Even though I was in mid-town, no doubt far from the charm of Vieux Montreal, Le Plateau, and more central neighbourhoods, Little Italy and the adjacent quarters was great. Everything was walkable amid old buildings, vibrant shops, and busy pedestrians.

But the residential housing was uninteresting and mostly ugly. The well-known Montreal plexes with their spiraling outdoor stairs solve a problem that I've been thinking about for Toronto: how to have more living units but not concentrated in huge condos. But their sameness and ubiquity on every street made for a boring streetscape compared to the variety of houses in the Big Smoke. Speaking of ugly, all those highways and interchanges really chopped up the city, even if not directly in the downtown core.

I was surprised by the food costs, higher than Toronto despite cheaper rent, and mildly disappointed by the quality and portion size given these prices. When you are in a new place, you obviously don't know the good spots. But it would be expensive to find them by trial and error (Google and other review websites don't really help). I'm also curious if Montreal has the variety that Toronto has from its influx of immigrants.

Finally, I thought transit would be good here. The subways were fine but didn't operate as late as Toronto. The carriages were smaller: Scarborough-RT-size on the Saint-Michel line and Ottawa-LRT-size on the busier Cote-Vertu line. My main beef was that the buses only run every 20-30 minutes, except between noon and 7 pm, even on major routes like Saint Laurent and Jarry. In addition, transfers were only 1-way for a single trip and not a timed duration good for all travel like Ottawa and Toronto. Maybe Montreal neighbourhoods were busy and walkable because nobody wants to go to another part of the city?

In any case, it was a nice and interesting city. I'm looking for a sublet to give me a chance to experience more of Montreal.

Red Red Shine

I walked over to the St. Denis and Jean Talon area in the late afternoon to buy some banh mi to bring back to Ottawa. The days of super cheap subs are over. But for $6.50, the special banh mi (more meat than the regular at $5.50) at Hoang Oanh Sandwich was still a good deal. That would explain why the customers there, like me, were buying several subs per order.

I wandered around for a bit then made my way to a Middle-Eastern vegan restaurant called Sham. The name was a bit odd but perhaps it was an homage to nearby Shamrock Avenue. I've eaten shish taouk before but not a vegetarian one. So I ordered the shawarma version ($9.50) with the meat replaced with sautéed mushrooms. The restaurant was homey and cozy but I decided to eat at a outdoor eating area on Shamrock which had been beautified some years back. Like all the food I've eaten in Montreal so far, it was ok but not particularly outstanding (for the price).

I walked over to Bar Le Ritz at about 7:45 pm. The place was already packed despite the early hours. I guess unlike Toronto, folks in Montreal show up early. The line for Ginger Root's merchandise (manned by the lead Cameron Lew) was already 15 people long. I didn't want to wait until after the show so I got in line too. As such, I was only half-listening to the opener King Pari. This Minneapolis via L.A. band played catchy dance music that combined samples and tracks along with live vocals, guitar and trumpet solos. The crowd was already into it tonight. Luckily I was able to buy some merch because after me, Lew took off to get ready for his set.

So was Ginger Root worth the trip to Montreal? Lew is the real deal. His City-Pop-inspired hits translated to a tight, funky set with help from high-school friends Matt Carney (drums) and Dylan Hovis (bass). His  easy-going stage patter endeared him to the crowd especially after he claimed that Montreal tap water was superior to Toronto's. The 80s/90s Japanophile love included a roving cameraman who shot the set (in glorious analog) onto the stage backdrop, 2 City-Pop covers, and a medley of anime theme songs. Before playing his viral hit Loretta, Lew thanked his sponsors: The Youtube Algorithm (as planned) and also NordVPN (as shouted out by a cheeky audience member). The sold-out crowd loved the music, the skits, and Lew's disarming and slightly nerdy vibe. After a raucous call for an encore, his "deep cut" (but danceable) Mahjong Room showed that Lew already has a good catalogue. With crowd singalongs like Weather, I think Ginger Root has staying power.

Walking on Sunshine and Rain

On Thursday, I visited several Vietnamese businesses. Just before noon, I headed south in the bright sunshine along Saint Laurent until Bellechasse. Stores became quotidian and less chi-chi. Bellechasse was an industrial street with several large edifices including a new bus depot under construction. There was a smattering of stores and restaurants for the residential side streets and buildings being converted into hard lofts.

My first stop was at Lien Phat on Saint Hubert. This bakery made cakes and other baked goods but I was interested in pate so (pate chaud), a Vietnamese take on a French pastry. I grabbed 12 ($30) with 4 vegetarian options. I headed north and noticed that Saint Hubert's sidewalks had fancy glass awnings. But although there were some trendy stores and restaurants, the businesses were eclectic offering all manner of goods and services: jewelry, clothes, wigs, tchotchkes, cellphone repair, nail salons, barber shops. If Toronto had beautified Yonge St or Queen St West as they existed in the year 2000, that would be Saint Hubert.

The sky grew dark when I arrived at my second stop: Petit Marché Végé. I grabbed a few vegan to-go items ($6.50-$7) to bring back to Ottawa. I should have stayed and gotten lunch but I braved the rain because I wanted to try My Tien's famous noodle and bao dishes. A mistake as they were temporarily closed until December.

On to plan B. I dropped off my purchases at the AirBnB and decided to try T'ami on Saint Laurent. Unfortunately, their specialties were only available on the week-end. All Vietnamese restaurants offer the ubiquitous pho soup, though some shouldn't, because it's expected. So I reluctantly ordered pho ($16) and it turned out to be a so-so lunch. The broth and noodles were good but they skimped on the fresh greens and herbs. The big miss was the tough beef. Considering the (now Michelin recommended) Cafe Rang in Toronto only charge $1 more for a much superior bowl, this was disappointing. Maybe their special dishes were worth a second visit.

A Walk In The Park?

Wednesday started out well but ended poorly. I did an early morning run at Parc Jarry. It was huge and I spent most of my time there with only short detours onto side streets. Former business areas around here have gentrified with condos and low-rises encroaching on the few remaining factories and industrial buildings. Two mid-sized stadiums (Stade IGA) were the location for the portion of the Rogers Cup tennis tournament that takes place in Montreal.

After washing up, I walked to La Fabrique de Bagel at Saint-Laurent and Jean Talon for a sesame bagel with Jalapeno cream cheese ($3.95) and a Chamomile tea ($2.95). This was likely not up to St. Viateur standard (no wood-fired ovens) but the bagel was freshly made and tasty. Just before lunch, I made my way to Jean Talon Market with the idea of getting some fresh basil for my leftover pizza from Napoletana. It had many more vendors than The Byward Market in Ottawa selling everything from wild blueberrys to plump tomatoes to colourful cauliflowers. There were groups of tourists walking around but it wasn't too busy. I grabbed some boiled corn ($1.50) with butter and salt.

I returned to Jarry Park in the afternoon after work for a more leisurely exploration. There was a pond, shady trees and picnic areas, soccer and baseball fields, playgrounds, even basketball courts and skateboard parks. I wandered along Jarry Street, another busy road with pedestrians and stores. Next to the Jarry subway station, I saw Ahi Poke, which reminded me of another Poke and subway spot. I ordered a vegetarian poke ($17) which had typical ingredients like edamame, seaweed, and baby spinach. The tempura toppings were crispy but a bit heavy. Although you can't go wrong with Poke, the version here wasn't memorable.

It was about a 30-minute stroll back to my AirBnB. Though I enjoyed streets like St. Denis and Villeray on the way, I was a bit worried. I sometimes have digestive problems after a meal, especially if there is walking involved. It has been my bane for decades with some close calls. Sure enough, the intestinal rumbling started about 7 minutes from the studio apartment. When I got in, I spent some time in the washroom.

I had bought a ticket to see Alice Glass at Le Belmont since I was already in Montreal. But with the venue about 40-minutes away by foot and my stomach still feeling tender and unsettled, I took the prudent choice to stay in and go to bed early.

Sur la Main, il est tard

I was itching to be somewhere more convenient for a few days. Meanwhile, a viral Youtube artist named Ginger Root was doing his first ever Canadian shows. I decided that I should catch the band in case this was the peak of their career. I chose Montreal because I had never visited the city despite its nearness to Ottawa. The closest I came was a few decades ago when I went to the La Ronde amusement park and caught a flight to France from Dorval airport.

On Tuesday, as the bus was making its way into the downtown core, I was nonplussed. I have never seen so many highways and looping interchanges cutting through urban areas except in American cities. I still remember my bewildering drives through Orlando and its surrounding areas during a business trip in the mid-aughts.

I didn't get my first "wow", big city moment until I stepped into the Berri-UQAM subway station to take the Montmorency line. My AirBnB stay wasn't downtown but on the edge of Little Italy in the North-East. After exiting Jean Talon station, I was happy to see the eponymous street vibrant with busy shops.

My rented studio was on Saint Laurent Boulevard above a Venezuelan restaurant (Bocadillo Bistro). It was reasonably roomy inside, certainly better than Victoria's Mansion. But the stairwell and hallways have seen better days. My host had 4 listings on AirBnB so I wondered if there were any permanent renters in the other rooms? Also, now I know what's it like living over a shop: convenient but an aerobic workout. This Saint Laurent was pleasantly romantic compared to its arterial namesake in Ottawa.

For dinner, I wandered down a side street called Dante and got a table at Pizzeria Napoletana, Montreal's first pizzeria which opened in 1948. The joint was jumping with most tables full. I opted for the Napoletana salad ($14) and a Caporale pizza ($20). When the food arrived, I saw no pepperoni sausages until I realized Napoletana put their cheese over the other ingredients, a rare practice in Toronto.

The food was serviceable but a bit dated. Looking at all the families and groups of friends chatting animatedly over pizza and pasta, I thought this place (like Cafe Diplomatico in Toronto) was more about nostalgia and tradition than culinary excellence.

Afterwards, I walked around to see more of the neighbourhood. Two things were different compared to Toronto. First, instead of having all the businesses located along one street with mostly residential housing when off the main thoroughfare, Little Italy in Montreal had shops on every street. Second, buildings were wider so the businesses were more spacious. The long and narrow Toronto restos and bars were uncommon here.

23/09/2022: Walking through the corridors, I counted 12 doors with 6 having electronic access pads. So likely there were still tenants here. Downstairs, one of the mailbox was overflowing with unclaimed letters. The addressees field suggested that recent renters were immigrants, given that none had "pure laine" names.

Kinda Pleasantville

It has been 3 weeks since I came back to Ottawa from a "quarantine isolation" in Toronto. My last night there, I returned to the Eglinton West and Keele area for Enchilados Taqueria. This turned out to be a tiny spot just off a side street. Their busy-ness meant an aromatic but smokey interior. Luckily, they had 2 small tables set up outside.

The specialty here was steamed tacos (3 for $12). I chose potatoes in tomato sauce as my filling. It was a heavenly dinner; I haven't had tacos this good in quite a while. The ones in Bloordale and Bloorcourt were stick-to-your-ribs serviceable (or good but pricey).

Saturday morning, after a final visit to the laundromat, I took the bus back to Ottawa. Since then, I have reflected on my stay there. I was first leery of the industrial setting, so different from the pedestrian-friendly vibes of centrally-located areas. Yet there were enough pockets of greenery and vibrant businesses that I found reasons to go outside every day. Weston wasn't a destination like Queen St. West, but it had its' local charms. And it was only a short bus-trip to the subway and the other neighbourhoods and their attractions.

In contrast, I'm once-again ensconced inside since my return. There simply wasn't any place here I wanted to visit by foot and especially the unreliable Ottawa transit. On top of that, I found myself once again in an embarrassing situation. It wasn't so funny this time around. So I might need to go somewhere else for a bit before I become a basket-case.

15/09/2022: Despite having a ticket, I skipped the pandemic-delay show last night by all-female punk rockers Bad Waitress at The Dominion Tavern because I can't be arsed to go out in Ottawa.

Be Sweet

On Friday, I explored Industry St along the north end away from Sandwich and Crepe. The TTC bus garage was enormous. On the other side, there were 2 non-profits: North York Harvest Food Bank and FoodShare. The former was having a company day with the employees playing games on the lawn while a BBQ was being set up. The street ended at the Black Creek Business Centre that housed about a dozen businesses. There was a foot path leading to Touchstone Drive, which along with its neighbouring "Drives", was a slice of suburbia surrounded by arterial roads like Jane and Trethewey. I crossed the latter to head north along Brookhaven to Lawrence on my way to Mama Tofu. This established neighbourhood had affluent houses with green lawn and mature trees.

But before that, I stopped at 100% Salvadoreno for some eats. I opted for the Salvadorean Breakfast ($11) and a glass of Horchata ($3.50). The meal consisted of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, cheese, a slice of avocado, plaintain and sour cream and refried beans to slather onto hot pupusas.

This was stick-to-your-ribs food but on the bland side with the exception of the plaintain and horchata. If I lived nearby, I might return to try a few other dishes. But Salvadoreno wouldn't be my first choice for food in the area.

After The Rain

On Tuesday, my morning run was mostly along Emmett Ave. It was a pleasant neighbourhood of tidy houses and an apartment/condo block. Some buildings were newer but they all looked well-maintained. A "corporate centre" confused me until I realized it was a vocational high school. I was used to the old "we don't need no education" edifices in downtown Toronto. A trail, which merely ran around the school's parking lot, led to stairs that ended at Buttonwood Ave and The West Park Healthcare Centre. The rest of Emmett meandered until it reached Eglinton Ave.

I was on my way that evening to an outdoor Ballet show but I was running late and the sky threatened rain. So I stopped halfway in Bloordale to get a veggie bibimbap from Roll and Bowl (now LEEKo) for dinner instead. The lady still remembered that I was allergic to sesame oil. Last year, when they temporarily stopped serving sushi, I found out from the chef that his wife was undergoing cancer treatment. She looked healthy enough tonight so I hope things are going well.

Thursday evening, I decided to try again despite a late afternoon rain. It was good that I was early because most of the seats at Harbourfront's outdoor stage were taken. In fact, the ushers became more and more agitated with trying to seat newcomers while folks had gone off elsewhere leaving behind their coats and purses, or people holding seats for their friends. Some even told patrons to just take the empty seats regardless. No one tried that or we might have had fisticuffs.

Sharing The Stage was a multi-year funded event that was both a showcase for The National Ballet but also a collaboration with other Toronto dance companies. I had seen most of these ballet excerpts but it was interesting to watch them amid the noise of a busy tourist spot and a curious crowd that might not normally go to The Four Seasons for dance. A full orchestra and being close enough to see the dancers' expression were the icing (and cherry) on the cake.

Chroma was ably performed by Svetlana Lunkina and Peng-Fei Jiang. Next to her diminutive form, Jiang looked like a giant. An excerpt from Margarita, a new work by Holla Jazz, suffered in comparison. Their modern dance's interpretation of burlesque seemed amateurish following Lunkina's lyrical athleticism. 4 for 5, from the same choreographer (Natasha Powell) but for the National Ballet male dancers, fared better with a West Side Story meets contemporary vibe.

The oohs, aahs, and smartphones came out when Ben Rudisin and Tina Pereira came on stage to dance a Swan Lake Pas de Deux. Tanveer Alam also wowed the crowd with Kathak in Haazri. Coming from a different dance tradition, it was easier to accept the piece on its own terms. I have only seen female Kathak dancers so I wonder if Alam's more acrobatic movement was due to gender or a personal style.

The show ended with After the Rain. It was a perfect closer since an high-energy first act with 6 dancers followed by a slow and tender Pas De Deux between Heather Ogden and Harrison James satisfied all tastes. The chatter from the adjacent outdoor patio even died down. The piece was originally purchased by The National Ballet to honour Jillian Vanstone in her retirement. It was interesting to compare the tiny Vanstone to Ogden, who was a larger and more muscular principal dancer. With the condos and the CN Tower lighting up the skyline, tonight's show and milieu was the essence of a big-city experience.

Two If By Chickpeas

Monday evening, I wandered east of Eglinton West and Weston looking for some Mexican food but Enchilados Taqueria and Tacontento were closed. I walked all the way to Westside Mall (Freshco, Canadian Tire) near Caledonia and got a croissant ($2.50) from Caldense Bakery (whose production center was nearby). Although there were a few blocks of businesses between Keele and Kane, it was an unpleasant road. This stretch of Eglinton felt quite pedestrian-unfriendly with multiple lanes of heavy and fast traffic.

There were mostly meat-heavy options (J.J. Fried Chicken, numerous Caribbean take-outs) so on the way back, I finally stopped at Two Brothers Shawarma. Were 2 of the 5 people behind the counter the epynomous siblings? Probably not as there were 2 other locations in Toronto. I ordered the falafel plate ($13.99) for dinner.

It was similar to the veggie plate I usually have at Laziza. The rice wasn't as fragrant (since it was only steamed) and there were less options for the toppings to but they were fresh. The 5 falafel balls were large, nutty, and nicely fried. Overall it was a better offering for both flavour and food-to-price ratio than similar choices in Ottawa.

Brockton Round The Clock

I had 1 yoga class left on my pass from back in March so I headed down to the old studio on Ossington. Of the regulars there on Sunday, I was only on nodding acquaintance with a few. It was a typically hard class and the new faces beside me in the back row seemed shell-shocked by the end.

The Strip was filling up with the lunch crowd as I made my way to Dundas St. West. I stopped by Honey's at Gladstone and got a peanut cup scoop ($5.75) of vegan ice cream. Their frozen ice cream sandwich was so-so but this was excellent. The warmer temperature of the ice cream allowed the flavour and creaminess to shine. Amazing that no dairy was used. Arabesque was closed on College St. so I grabbed some tofu meals from Le's Sandwich and headed back to Dundas.

I was hoping to get a slice from Slow South Pizza, which had just opened in April, but they were closed until the evening. It was embarrassing at Cygnet Coffee that I asked for the pasta lunch as I had mistaken the coffee-shop for Pasta Forever. So I purchased a veggie breakfast sandwich ($6) from them.

The pasta shop was just one door over. Once a pandemic hustle gig by chef Jessica Maiorano to deliver fresh pasta and host online classes, she finally opened bricks-and-mortar store. I followed her journey on social media and wanted to finally try the food. The eggplant pansotti ($20) was exquisite: large ravioli stuffed with cheese, sitting in rich, smoked tomato butter, oil, and parmigiano. The confit cherry tomatoes and purple basil added fragrant burst of palate cleanser. I wasn't sure where the eggplant was (maybe it was an adjective?) but this was a lunch to savour.

It was enjoyable to walk around busy and pedestrian-friendly streets. The gentrification of Little Portugal and Brockton (Village) was only possible because the old buildings still existed. It will be interesting to see whether this neighbourhood turns into a Potemkin-esque streetscape surrounded by high-rises like Queen St. West or Yonge.

The Pasta Is a Foreign County

Saturday morning, I walked to the Weston and Lawrence area to try Pastable ("Life is full of pastabilities"). Their Build Your Own Pasta is a typical select-your-own menu popular with quick eats places. Namely, you pick a main, some regular toppings, and maybe a "protein". My BYOP ($10) was fusilli with sugo sauce, black olives, fresh basil, and mushroom. I also picked a fried egg ($2) as a premium topping because the various protein options didn't seemed worth it at $7. This was mostly because the "let's look trendy on a tight budget" vibe didn't inspire my confidence of the kitchen.

It was a full lunch of mostly pasta and a smattering of other ingredients. Nevertheless, the fusilli had a good chew and the sauce was acceptable if a bit sweet. I picked the former because that was my go-to pasta at home and the latter because of this place. Well, the food at Pastable was at the level of a home-cook yet still a better deal than at Sugo (not that anyone will travel from Lansdowne to here).

I wasn't in the area just to check out a viral eatery but to do a bit of exploring as opposed to breezing through. The 2 blocks north of Lawrence felt like a cozy section of Bloor St. W. This was no doubt the old main street of the town of Weston ("Established in 1794" per the faded welcome sign near the Go station on the south side). At least along here, there were only a few relics of that past such as the older buildings, some pretty houses along the short King St Crescent (tucked behind Memorial Park), a church, and a few homes surrounded by apartment buildings. The views from the apartments onto Weston Road were a little grim, but behind them was the Humber river which can be accessed via Cruickshank Park and various little paths. So some big green spaces close by for the residents to enjoy.

Three Of Hearts

Friday morning, I found the east-side trail. Just before Eglinton crossed over the Humber river, there was a path leading down. But instead of doubling back underneath the bridge, which I found out last time led to a golf course, the other branch led to a trail that ran alongside the river. It wasn't the official recreational path since it was unpaved. But it was more secluded since it wasn't next to a major road. The trail ended at Emmett Falls but I exited early at Portage Gardens Park. Just before then, there was a tiny, hidden path that led to a large, building-sized white tent, a few smaller camping ones, and a vegetable garden surrounded by woods. Since it was early morning, there was no one awake and I didn't approach too closely. Odd urban farming initiative or ambitious homeless encampment? The streets around Portage Gardens leading back to Weston Road were a slice of suburbia dropped directly into Toronto.

In the evening, I headed off to Massey Hall for a show. Since its renovation, the seats on the main floor can be retracted a la Paradise Theatre. This allowed for standing general admission which would be more exciting for some shows. Normally, I would be down there among the crowd. But tonight I had tickets in the upper Gallery. I wanted to see my seat dedication. These tributes were mounted on the back and given how tight the rows are, no casual attendee was going to hunker down to read them in the dim light (and perhaps not even aware they were there). No matter. If the next renovation is in another 100 years, this small memento of my family will be here long after we are gone.

The Wild Hearts tour had 3 singer-songwriters with good-size followings: Julien Baker, Angel Olsen, and Sharon Van Etten. But despite the official sold-out status, there were still plenty of seats available. Maybe they should have consolidated the two shows in Toronto.

Each artist had a different approach to lyrics. Baker was both raw and wistful, Olsen had simple verses with a country accent, and Etten has left behind her Sheryl Crow-esque phase (she did play Every Time The Sun Comes Up but up-tempo) for something that was more glam with an underlying current of rage. But they also shared a common trait: their songs often swerve into muscular, propulsive rock. Not unexpected for Etten, but it was a surprise for me listening to Baker and Olsen for the first time. They also shared the stage for brief periods. Baker and some of her band members helped Olsen out for a few songs since some of hers were laid up with Covid. And the latter came on during Etten's encore to duet their ode-to-self single Like I Used To.

It wasn't the only song that looked back in time. Etten closed her set with her hit Seventeen ("I used to be free/I used to be seventeen"). It might just be a fun sing-along for the youngsters down on the floor. But for the old folks sitting in the upper levels, it landed a little differently.

19/08/2022: On my run today, I went through the encampment. It looked like an Indigenous meeting place. The large tent was a wigwam constructed from a white tarp over a latticed wood frame. Looking through an opening, I saw several logs which served as seats. It could hold about 20-30 people. There were several garden patches and other seating areas throughout the area.

In Between

During my last walk, I saw a few eateries among the blue-collar businesses. I returned on Thursday at lunchtime to check one out. I was also taking a closer look at the other buildings. There was a large mail depot which explains why I've seen Canada Post workers heading up Ray Ave on my morning jogs. Two enormous public transit facilities were located in the area: TTC's Mount Dennis bus garage and Metrolinx's Eglinton Storage and Maintenance for new Eglinton Crosstown light rail. Oddly, there were several churches inside nondescript industrial units.

Sandwich & Crepe on Industry Street seemed popular with the nearby workers. Bags of pre-ordered food were laid out for them to simply come in, find it by name, and skedaddled. The stainless steel counter and kitchen matched the vibe of area. Since there was no dine-in area post-Covid, I decided not to order any crepes. Instead I opted for 2 grilled cheese sandwich ($3.50/each). I had to quickly jog back to my friend's house before they got too soggy inside their paper wraps.

I enjoyed the gooey cheese and the toasted bread though it was getting a bit soft. But the tomatoes lacked any fragrance or juicy flavour. I suppose for the price the owners weren't going to buy fresh heirloom tomatoes.

Aikins Breaken Heart

Wednesday night, I headed off to The Dakota Tavern. I haven't been to this basement venue since The Raptors won the NBA finals. I walked a bit along Bloor St. and The Ossington Strip before the show. The restaurants on The Strip were onboard again with the street patios whereas businesses elsewhere haven't bothered with many CafeTO setups. It was packed for both outside and inside dining. But in my opinion, it wasn't that convenient to live in the area. The Strip had plenty of restaurants (but no every day cheap eats) and a few other trendy stores. But the laundromat and Home Hardware closed last year. And a lonely convenience store was hanging on for dear life.

I was hoping for a masked audience and prompt sets tonight but neither occurred. It was practically a Dwayne Gretzky show as both bands had alums and several others were in the crowd. Dwayne's bassist Dave Dalrymple fronted Wax Atlantic on vocals, keys, and guitar. I thought it was apt that the few songs he covers for Dwayne included Wonderwall (Oasis) because numbers like Lonely Island and Friends Like This had the same wistful pop lyrics. There were some upbeat tunes but I was expecting more interesting rhythm from a bass player.

One of Carleigh Aikins' signature number with Dwayne was Janis Joplin's Piece of My Heart. Her growly vocals never fails to elicit cheers. So I was a bit concerned when she opened with Halfway Mark which was solidly Taylor Dayne Top-40 radio. But the rest of her songs from Junk Jewelry had more appeal. Some had Amanda Marshall ballad vibes (Pretty Tiger, Letting You Go), others were fun Joplin meets 90s R'n'B tunes (Credit's Due, Good Book). The band was tight but it was the additional harmonies of Meg Contini and Jill Harris (The O'Pears) that made the songs soared. The final Lose My Number was a barn-burner that should be playing on the radio.

The Roti Less Traveled

On Wednesday, I covered some new grounds in the Mount Dennis area. My morning run took me to the Scarlett Road and Eglinton intersection. I was looking for the east-side trail of the Humber river but only found one leading through a golf course. So I doubled back and took the west-side trail until I reached the Emmett Waterfall. Geese were wandering around the top (it wasn't a strong flow) looking for food. I ran through Raymore Park, over a wooden bridge, and exited the Lower Humber trail at Hickory Street. The trail itself would continue north all the way to Steeles and south to the lake for a total of 13 km. You could take the Upper Humber for another 20 km. For several blocks around Lawrence and Weston, businesses in older buildings could have "downtown-friendly" vibes if traffic was lighter. Heading south to Jane, I passed by newer condos and townhouses but also the huge Irving Tissue paper mill which has been around since 1929.

Around lunch time, I walked along Ray Ave and the aptly-named Industry Street. But when I arrived at Todd Baylis and Black Creek Drive, I encountered something I've never seen in Toronto: no sidewalks. Making my way along the grass and paved curbs, I finally came to the No Frills at Eglinton and Black Creek and bought needed supplies.

I headed back along Eglinton because it actually had sidewalks. The Mount Dennis station for the Eglinton Crosstown was still waiting to open. Once this light rail is completed, there will be an influx of new-comers to the area. I stopped off at V's Caribbean Restaurant for some vegan fare and chose a roti ($8). Some regulars were expounding anti-vaccine conspiracies regarding Covid but the server making my order seemed skeptical of their rants.

It was a good roti with a mixture of chickpeas, green beans, potatoes, zucchini, and TVP chunks that looked like goat. It wasn't quite as tasty as the veggie roties at Caribbean Queen or defunct Vena's Roti. The former had interesting filling like yam and plaintain while the latter had a more aromatic shell and a richer curry sauce.

Cloudy With A Chance of Hot Balls

My friend lived closer to York University than my old apartment so I got a day session ticket on Tuesday to see some WTA tennis at the Canadian Open. The Jane St. Express was surprisingly fast at less than 20 minutes to get to Shoreham, but only 4 minutes faster than the regular bus that I skipped. Unfortunately, the trip back at the start of the afternoon rush-hour took nearly 1 hour.

I saw 1 full match and a bit of 2 other games. They all involved up-and-coming tennis players. On the grandstand court, 17-year-old Coco Gauff dominated the 1st set against 32-year-old Madison Brengle. I don't play but I recently saw a how-to-serve video by Venus Williams. In contrast, Brengle had an obvious "open racket face" serve that didn't generate much speed. I'm surprised she hasn't fixed it with coaching. Gauff's more typical serve was higher at around 180-195 kph and she followed that with blistering shots. The 2nd set was closer but it was really Gauff to lose. Once she broke Brengle, it was game over.

I got inside the main court to watch the final set between Rebecca Marino (31) and Qinweng Zheng (19). It was more competitive and tightly contested. Most people cheered for the Canadian Marino but she couldn't pull through. Given that she won the first set and was up 3 points in the second set's tie-breaker, she will likely regret losing this opportunity.

The second match had Camila Giorgi (30) up against Emma Raducanu (19). It was a hard-fought first set though neither player could hold serve. The tie-break was a lop-sided win for Giorgi. I didn't stay for the full match but the veteran (and defending champion) defeated the young phenom.

Since the sky was overcast as opposed to last year's sunshine, I didn't apply sunscreen. I should have though because I still got a mild sunburn. I had in fact looked to buy some UV protection from a pharmacy but there were none in my friend's neighbourhood.

Flat White

Early Saturday morning, I had to go use a local laundromat. From online reviews, Pasodaje has been around close to 10 years. But the machines looked new and well-maintained. It had a large number of washers (4 sizes) and dryers (2 sizes). With Korean owners, it reminded me of my old spot Jumbo Laundry at College and Gladstone, even with a few out-of-order signs. The Italian proprietor of Angela's Laundry (my regular spot across from Jumbo over the last 10 years) told me Jumbo finally folded (and became a day-care) because they didn't know how to do basic repair. Those contractor fees will kill you.

After I finished laundry, I went to Supercoffee at Eglinton and Weston. This was the first trendy business in this area per my friend. It felt similar to The Common in the Dufferin Grove area: a spot for both locals and gentrifiers. During my hour there, a parade of folks came through but only a handful lingered. Numerous dogs entered the shop with their owners which was cute and fun but not exactly up to the health code.

I ordered a medium English Breakfast ($2.61), lemon cranberry scone ($2.90), and a butter croissant ($2.95). The baked goods were probably ordered elsewhere and didn't stand out. I noticed the proprietress brought in her own goods (muffins?) so next time I'll try something more home-made. The server knew "the usual" for almost everyone.

Afterwards, I explored a few side streets . During my morning runs this week, mostly north of Eglinton,  I found tidy and attractive homes surrounded by large parks with cricket fields and tennis courts. On my stroll this morning, some of the houses south of Eglinton were even more spacious and wouldn't look out of place in Dufferin Grove. The courts and cricket grounds were packed with players for the week-end.

So probably some of the gentrifiers were actually well-off locals who have lived in the Mount Dennis area for a long time. Main streets like Weston Road were likely to have always been commercial. But were they more pleasant before industrialization and heavy traffic?

Fancy Penne?

I traveled to Bloordale for lunch on Friday. There were several reasons including a bright but not muggy day. On my way to Monte Bianco (formerly a local bar) along Bloor St, I noticed that both Caravan and the ghost kitchen had "For Lease" signs. The food business was a tough gig.

This chef/owner of Bianco was realizing this, according to my friend who lived nearby. The African chef, who had worked throughout Europe, was finding that the Toronto crowd seemed less welcoming of new ventures. She thought that his skin colour didn't match the stereotype of who makes "good Italian food" and so discouraged some people. I was also leaning toward the difficulty of trying to unseat "Italian-American" family resto Sugo at Lansdowne.

The inside had pretty seating and decorations with multiple TVs overhead. There was a brunch menu with french toasts, burgers, and spaghetti dishes. This middle-ground reminded me of defunct Porta Nova steakhouse more than high-end Alma or trendy Burdock.

I stuck to the dinner menu and opted for the Bianco Salad ($13) and the Penne Alla Vodka ($16). The salad was well-oiled assortment of greens such as arugula, fennel and salad. It was light and refreshing except that the radicchio was a tad too bitter as large pieces. I liked the pasta as well, perfectly al dente with a good sauce.

The meal wasn't as magnificent as per my friend. But I've come to realize we have dissimilar tastes as she didn't think much of Afrobeat but enjoyed the supremely mediocre Sugo. Bianco offered better Italian fare than the latter if not quite at the level of an Enoteca Sociale. But Sugo was popular in the neighbourhood (and with online searches) and I don't see this restaurant out-competing it for regulars or new customers.

The other reasons for this trip were to visit 241 pizza and Pam's Roti to get a veggie slice and a veggie lunch special (I picked okra and cabbage this time). The special had increased from $5.99 to $7.99. But what can you do with recent increase in food prices? And it was still a good deal. However, I didn't receive the free pop that came with the meal.

I was happy to see a long-time worker there. She had disappeared for several months due to health reasons. Perhaps even permanently incapacitating, according to the owner. So it was nice that she was back even if I won't see her on a weekly schedule as when I lived in the area.

Doge Corner

I haven't had much fibre in the last few days. The vegan food from Mama Tofu were light on leafy greens. Meanwhile, the restaurants in this neighbourhood offered burgers, pizzas, and Caribbean food (e.g., jerk chicken, oxtail). So on Thursday, I hopped on a bus heading to The Junction. It was a shorter ride than from Bloorcourt depending on traffic.

I was keeping a promise I made to the owner of filipino joint Kanto. Unfortunately, they were in the kitchen. The person managing the counter and cash register was apathetic. So without access to a menu and with unhelpful staff, I left. There weren't too many other choices for fresh vegetables whether dumpling house (Tumi), sushi (Momotaro), or Indian (Hakka Heaven).

So I jumped on another bus and made my way to the subway. It was a quick stop to High Park station because I was looking for my second choice: Shiba Poke. But it was on Kennedy Ave at Runnymede not at Kennedy Park Dr near the park. No matter, it was a chance to walk along an area of Bloor St. W I haven't visited in years.

Shiba Poke was a tiny spot directly facing the entrance to the subway station. There was enough room for the kitchen and a two-seat bench by the window. The mural portrayed the epynomous and cute Japanese dogs cavorting in space. The menu had 2 options: Korean-style boba and Hawaiian Poke bowls. 

I ordered the Kaiken Bowl ($15.25). Since this was a themed store by the owners of the Poop Cafe and Unicorn Cafe, the rice was shaped like a Shiba. My bowl came with pan-fried tofu as the protein. Otherwise, all mains here had the same 14 ingredients including pineapple, chickpeas, furakake, and various nuts. It was a tasty meal and I would eat it every day because it likely contains all the nutrients. I don't usually have this variety of veggies at home.

The name tweaked a vague recollection. It turns out that as I was preparing to leave the Dufferin Grove area last fall, I did see renovations for a Shiba Poke at College and Dovercourt at the location of an accounting/tax business.