P&P Canada

I don't dine out much in Ottawa compared to Toronto because of 3 strikes: more expensive, smaller portion, and less tasty. Though there are some cheaper options that I visit semi-regularly. The other reason were the home-cooked meals. But early in the week, my parent was staying a few days at my grandma's to keep her company. So I took the opportunity to check out Pit Stop for dinner.

A convenience store is not my typical choice for a meal. But it recently changed owner and the new one had installed a shawarma shop in the back. A regular falalel wrap was a reasonable $6.99 but I struck out again. Usually, the ingredients are packed into a pita shell. But it was a small one here so they tore it apart to form two overlapping discs. I have never seen the like so two strikes: undersized and pricey. Then I saw that, like other shawarma places in Ottawa, they had pre-cooked the falalel. But it wasn't just a 3rd strike but a total swing-and-miss because the falafel was salty almost to the point of being inedible. Maybe someone who just picked up a cookbook a week ago should be this bad. Not people who spent money buying commercial kitchen equipment.

On Saturday, it was my turn to visit my grandma for lunch. Usually she has prepared something. But this time, I stopped off in Chinatown to buy a few extra snacks. Since Covid, my uncle has not visited the area so she has been missing some favourites. A small grocery store like Phuoc Loi, hammered by large suburban competitors like Fresh Green and T&T, now only offer a small vegetables section. The bulk of their staples was convenience-store-like items such as ramen and canned food.

However, they also stock home-made food on the week-end. These offerings are procured from an older generation of private cooks looking to make some extra money. So like a gentrifying Chinatown, they will eventually disappear. My grandma was thrilled with fried sesame balls/banh ran($4), shrimp tapioca dumplings/banh bot loc($5), pork balls/banh it tran($5), and flour rolls/banh cuon ($7).

On The Road Again

I had a few things planned on Friday but they fell through because, paradoxically, I was working longer despite booking half-day vacations. The first item scratched off was a second community class at Yogaspace because I simply didn't want to eat another late lunch.

There were several boutique shops between Lansdowne and Gladstone. As far as gentrification goes, something other than a café or restaurant was a net positive in my opinion. Yet this stretch of College St. was not lively or gentrified enough to make these stores viable because I have seen mostly failures over the years.

At Gladstone, I decided I didn't want to walk all the way to Spadina for Toronto-style pizza at Fresca. So remove that item from my to-do list. I also wasn't feeling in the mood for a Moroccan tea at Arabesque. Instead I headed up to Bloor for 241 pizza. Previously, there have been encampments at Dufferin Grove Park. The first occurrence was a cluster of tents in the field across from the outdoor rink. Then during the pandemic, several were set up by Indigenous folks next to the campfire to protest the discovery of mass graves at residential schools. There were none during my visit in June but they have returned. This time, they were spread apart, covering almost the entire tree-lined slope opposite Dufferin Mall. I wondered how the local residents felt about losing 1/3 of the park.

In the evening, I headed East again from my rental to Symington and Bloor. This crossing, essentially 2 3-way intersections side-by-side, was notorious for confusing drivers. During the brief time that I passed by on my way to Taqueria Vegana, several cars were "stuck" in no-man's land, enduring a flurry of honking from more experienced motorists. There were several restaurants right at that intersection that could provide me with an entertaining view of the chaos.

I had a good feeling stepping inside Thai Nyyom. First, all the staff spoke Thai to each other. Second, the menu on the chalkboard was only a handful of regular items plus one daily special. I ordered Khao Soi Chicken ($15.04) and Thai Iced Tea ($5.31). The drink was excellent and as a bonus, not as sweet as other places. As for the Khao Soi, it was also wonderful. The broth was flavourful with a slight kick and the chicken fell apart in your mouth. The crunchy topping provided a nice textural contrast. The only problem was that now that I've had the spaghetti version known as Khaose, Khao Soi simply wasn't quite as great a dish. Al dente pasta was a better base than soft rice noodles.

I had an early evening because my bus back to Ottawa was at 7 am. When I got to the terminal Saturday morning, I realized my mistake. Apparently, Rider Express was successful enough to now expand to several daily trips between Ottawa and Toronto. This early one was not a direct route but a "local" detour that went through several small towns include Marnora and Madoc. My last such ride, with the defunct Greyhound company some 20 years ago, took almost 8 hours. Luckily, this one was not on a full bus during winter so it was only 45 minutes longer than my usual 5-hour ride. But I'll have to pay attention to the full itinerary the next time I book online.

Playing For Time

The weather turned nippy on Thursday, but it was still pleasant enough with periods of sunshine and blue sky. So I was out and about several times. I walked down the street to get a blueberry muffin ($3) and a croissant ($3.75) from Blue Collar Bakery. Perhaps the name was a nod to the previous tenant called That Dog Next Door. I had purchased some Christmas gifts from that pet store. Otherwise referencing a working-class label while selling bread for $8-12 is funny. Still, like ibet Sushi, Blue Collar is the first of its kind in Bloordale. My breakfast items were tasty but not a destination visit. I also finished off my momos because I was planning to have a late lunch.

After another half-day of work, I went to Little Italy for a 1:30 pm community class at Yogaspace. With classes now topping $30+ at most studios, an $8 practice was more affordable. The potential downside was that community classes are led by recent graduates. I've had some poor instructors, but only because there isn't much time in a 200-hour training session to become comfortable at teaching. But the one today must have had experience with public speaking because they were clear and at ease.

Lunch was a rewarding vegetarian plate ($14.99) from Laziza. I've long extolled the food-cost ratio from here but I have never actually snapped a photo of the meal. Amazing that this large portion used to be $8.99. With the late lunch, two small potato curry roti ($3.70) from Dosa Mahal was enough for dinner.

Then it was off to The Burdock for a concert. The small venue was sold-out but it was all friends and family. I never liked such a show because you can't gauge a performer's true stage presence. Would they be equally effective in the presence of an indifferent crowd? The audience skewed much older tonight but it wasn't in support of a talented child. Both bands were comprised of older musicians as well.

Mature songwriters are interesting in that they can be dated musically but their songs cover a larger slice of life. Even better if their oeuvre remained vital and dynamic. But I wasn't moved emotionally at tonight's show. During sets by Andie Loren and Set Feux (Diana Planche), as I listened to their rhymes and topics (typical love songs), I kept getting flashback to Top 40 90s radio with Paula Cole and Amanda Marshall. The backing bands were proficient but also had a dad-jammin-with-his-buddies vibe.

On my way back to the rental, I realized that the Bloordale might be more happening than Bloorcourt. The bars and restaurants were still going strong whereas by this time, the stretch from Dufferin to Ossington would be mostly empty. With trash pickup on Friday, the businesses have put out their garbage. When I saw what was on the sidewalk, I laughed in delight.

I'm constantly flabbergasted that the mediocre Italian diner Sugo was so popular going on a decade. There were better options in the area. My only time there, I stated that it was about the same as supermarket pasta. So I felt vindicated tonight when I saw large bags filled with empty De Cecco boxes outside their door. Sure, I use De Cecco at home and maybe so do Italian nonnas (Sugo's inspiration). But as a restaurant, if you don't make pasta in-house, at least source it from a local producer even if it's not a high-end one.

A Whole New World

Early Wednesday morning, I went to Uncle Sid's Deli for a breakfast wrap ($7.25). As I enjoyed my food on Bloor St, I watched the morning rush. It was clear that despite millions of daily public transit trips, close to 75% of Toronto commuters drive. Yet I dislike drivers here less than Ottawa because they weren't oblivious and dangerous behind the wheel. I observed the smooth give-and-take with bikers, pedestrians, and other vehicles. Though there were separated bike lines, cyclists still needed to merge in from the side streets. And ditto all the cars coming and going from these residential roads. Whether at intersections, flashing crosswalks, or simply a random location on the street, adult commuters and teenage students were everywhere. All this hubbub kept drivers alert and diligent.

After working my half-day, I headed out to meet a friend for lunch. As I exited my unit, I ran into the owner of the rentals. I've been on the fence about the social impact of AirBnB. With their embrace of the "free-market" against regulations and government oversight, I realized we hold different world-views.

I met up with my friend at Ethio Natural Coffee (formerly Techniques Hair Salon) for some bean-based Ethiopian foul. They have had some health issues recently but problems have compounded. Two years back they were sideswiped by a car. Then just a month ago, they were a passenger in a car that was hit by a stolen vehicle. My friend was currently taking prescription pain killers for her shoulders and lower back.

The good news was that in August, their brother had finally immigrated from Addis Ababa after 5 years of sponsorship, delayed by the Syrian refugee crisis and then Covid pandemic. He was currently enrolled in ESL classes. But afterwards, they were hopeful that his years of carpentry experience will be a sought-after skill in the workforce.

In the evening, I set out east along Bloor then north via Perth to a small strip mall in The Junction Triangle. Two taco places have set up shop across from each other. I was interested in the plant-based Taqueria Vegena and ordered a chorizo trio for $19.99. The tacos were delicious: fragrant shell, smokey potatoes, sweetly caramelized fried onions, and a house-made "chorizo" that had a convincing grilled texture. It was on par with the meat tacos from El Pastorcito. In fact, the double-layer corn shells was superior.

But Vegena's tacos were $2 more than most other places though 85% of the flavour came from cheap ingredients. If the cost came from the vegan chorizo, I'd be happy with mushrooms, rapini, or some other earthy substitute. Otherwise $25 (tax + tip) for 3 tacos is too steep for a regular dining spot.

Fan Duel

Since the forecast called for balmy weather, I took a half-day off work. After my remote meeting wrapped up, I headed over to Momo Heart to get some dumplings to complement my leftover Jamaican rice and peas. With a small business, I'm always leery of seeing new faces. It usually means the regular staff has left. So I wasn't surprised when my spinach and paneer momos ($9.99) were tougher and more rubbery this time round. Also, I was expecting Indian-style creamy palak paneer, not bland chopped spinach filling. If I was still living in Toronto, I'd give Heart another chance. But as a traveller, there are too many other spots to visit.

I made a big circuit to Christie Pits park, then doubling back and down Dovercourt, to finally returning to my stay along College St. The walk started at my dentist who was once again both thorough but suspiciously expensive. There are always new storefronts but the most surprising were several new Ethiopian cafés and another outpost of Latin World. One, I thought the Ethiopian hub had moved to Greenwood and Danforth. Two, how can this bodega owner operate 3 storefronts: two of which are kitty corner to each other near Lansdowne?

Speaking of Lansdowne, with condo development imminent, Value Village has relocated to 772 Dovercourt Rd. I didn't need any thrifted items, but I was curious to see in the inside of the former Canada Post depot (then office for unscripted television producer Proper TV). It was mildly depressing: crammed with clothes, with no change rooms, and fully self-checkout.

For dinner, I came to ibet Sushi, the first of its kind in Bloordale. In contrast, Bloorcourt has had many sushi spots come and go. Its predecessor, Brock Sandwich, had a decent 8-year run. I wasn't a regular because deep-fried meat was too heavy for me. When I sat down, the place felt familiar: Korean chef and staff, easy-listening Jazz in the background, and a menu of sushi, udon, and other dishes. I later found out they were once a partner at Mazz Sushi (now taqueria) at Dovercourt. I had many lunches and dinner at that old spot.

I ordered Agedashi Tofu ($5) and a sushi combo ($18.50). The tofu appetizer came in a bowl of tempura sauce. This went nicely with the soft inside, but the outer shell was soaking up too much salty liquid. I had to remove them, also being careful not to spill the nori seaweed and bonito flakes.

I was initially disappointed when the 8-piece sushi had 4 pieces of salmon. But the salmon slices were generous and reasonably flavourful for a middling joint. It can be worse. The other fish selection were also tasty. The 8-piece dynamite roll wasn't particular a noteworthy example of its kind and simply served to fill me up. The place was full by the time I finished my meal. Clearly, the people of Bloordale has been waiting for a sushi joint, with Roll and Bowl not being a strong enough contender.

West Side Story

My last trip to Toronto was a mixed bag. I was starting to think that the fun of Toronto was living there, not just short visits. Otherwise, there were a dozen other places to travel to. But as my bus was pulling into the city on Monday, I felt my old excitement returned.

So it seems my ennui was partly due to illness and the cool weather. This time round, with a final gasp of summer weather in the air and no hacking cough, arriving in Toronto felt great. Before I headed to my short-term rental on St. Helens, I sat basking in the sun people-watching. Despite the rising rents, there seemed to be more young people than ever enjoying big-city living in Bloordale. Speaking of increasing costs, my desire for fresh juice from Galaxy T&T was doused when I saw the average drink was now more than $10.

During my first visit here, I had sneaked into all the other rental units so I already knew I was in a charming one-bedroom. But there were two minor faults. First, I'm still not loving the landlord keeping all these units for travellers instead of being for locals. Some of those youngsters would be thrilled to have this place (at a reasonable rent). Two, from dirty shower curtains to stained fridge, I'm also still flabbergasted that these places weren't cleaner considering how much money they generate.

I did a quick run to Dufferin Mall to buy several items. The condos at the intersection were going up at a mad pace. Even though unfinished, they were already dominating the neighbourhood. Dinner was a visit back to 9 Mile for some Jerk Chicken ($13.99). Their sauce and slaw were too sweet the first time round but it was a better balance now. As I savoured the smoky chicken with the tender rice, I realized that despite my praise of Royal Prince a few weeks back, it doesn't compare to the quality in Toronto. The crazy thing was that 9 Mile still didn't have many customers.

In the evening, I walked along Little Portugal to get to The Garrison. Bleary-Eyed, the opener band from Philadelphia, played a fuzzy indie sound that combined computer samples and sludgy guitars. This wasn't a sound that translated well at this venue, known (in my opinion) for a poor live mix. But headliner Hello Mary was outstanding. This 3-piece all-women outfit from NYC played complex but fun music. They kept my interest by layering pure harmonies, intricate chords, and polyrhythmic drumming. But Hello Mary didn't sacrificed melody and song-craft for experimentation, the tunes were tight and pulsating. Most people paid attention to the playing of Wave (drums, vocals) and Straight (guitar, vocals). But behind Oppenheimer's dreamy gaze and dimpled smile, a slithering bass provided a driving pulse that pushed the songs forward.

Next time round, Hello Mary is playing at a bigger venue. So I got my souvenir band t-shirt even though $40 was a bit steep (blame the Canadian-US exchange rate). I won't have a chance to see them up-close and personal again.

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

As an exercise, I filled out my October calendar as if I was still in Toronto. From Marie Goudy's album release with new band Paloma Sky on the 2nd to The Warning (Mexican hard-rock) show at The Danforth on the 30th, my month would be chock-a-block with events. But in Ottawa, I only had a choice of 2 concerts on Thursday, both at the NAC. Although I appreciated Begonia's big voice, it has been a long time since I saw Kelly McMichael with a full band. Since she moved to the East Coast more than a decade ago, McMichael usually does solo shows in Ontario.

The first 4 numbers highlighted that she was fine on her own. With a deft hand on guitar and piano and an assured voice, McMichael delighted with songs about college crush (She Makes Men), connections (Good Friends), the typically male fantasy of "leaving it all" (Nature Man), and delusional thinking (You Got It Wrong). That last tune was a preview that, on the new album After The Sting Of It, she was revisiting her pop and indie-rock days.

Her band consisted of fellow East Coaster John Moran but also locals including Geordie Gordon (The Magic). The reality of touring as a small artist meant you need a Newfoundland band and an Ontario band. McMichael promised a "rock-and-roll" portion and they delivered with Bomb, Dreamer, Montreal and Tour From Hell.

Her last album was long-listed for the Polaris Prize and Bomb made it to number 6 on the indie charts. But it was still a small audience for the show: a respectable crowd at a small venue like The Dakota or Burdock in Toronto but seemed tiny inside the larger Fourth Stage studio at the NAC. On the other hand, McMichael got to encore on a baby grand ("I'm obsessed with this piano") with a wonderful cover of Bonnie Raitt's Nick Of Time.

Royal Walkabout

A while back I wandered through a bit of Vanier for a smoked meat sandwich. On Saturday, I decided that the sunny but mild September day merited a second visit to the area. This time, I headed West along Côté while staying off McArthur and Montreal to avoid traffic noise. The older, modest homes along small streets like Richelieu and Lajoie reminded me of some Toronto neighbourhoods. Gentrification was creeping in here and there in the form of new houses that were typically boxy, square builds with large windows. It was amusing to run across Jean Talon and Dundas which were nothing like their counterpart elsewhere. The worst part of the walk was when I was briefly on McArthur and crossing the highway-in-all-but-name Vanier Parkway. I'm not sure who would buy a new condo at this busy intersection.

I quickly ducked into a side street on the other side. This block all the way to Montreal road was undergoing major intensification. Perhaps this primed my bias but the folks dropping off or picking up their kids at the Mauril Belanger school on Montgomery didn't feel like the old working-class Vanier. Whatever Saturday program was offered here seem geared to a different social strata.

I wanted some Ethiopian from Habesha but the restaurant wasn't open. So I stepped inside Royal Prince just a block away. Since Ottawa has a large French-speaking minority, most Caribbean restaurants here were Haitian instead of Jamaican. Nevertheless, Prince also offered some Jamaican dishes like Jerk Chicken. I don't know if these were any good because they weren't yet ready for lunch. On the recommendation of the owner/chef, I opted for a curry goat entrée ($15.99).

This was a tasty and reasonably substantial meal. The meat was very tender (I barely had to chew) with just a hint of spiciness. The rice and peas were slightly dry but a sprinkling of the curry sauce made all the difference. The mac and cheese was an odd side but still good. They forgot the plaintain and pikliz (pickle vegetable) for my order though. Overall, Royal Prince is the best Caribbean joint I've visited in Ottawa.

Mo Lesser Blues

A friend reached out to see if I wanted to get dinner on Friday. Since I hadn't seen their family since last November, I accepted. I didn't bother suggesting Idriss for Algerian food or the newly revamped Coconut Lagoon for Indian. Though they always offer delicious home-made meals when I visit, having a picky teenager meant that eating out for them was usually a blander affair.

So we ended up at Moxie's close to the Gloucester Centre. This stretch of Ogilvie was all suburban businesses: Chapters, Cineplex Odeon, and various chain restaurants including Montana's and State and Main. They all offer the same ersatz "fine dining" experience with an extensive menu to cover all bases: a downtown restaurant vibe without the commute and plenty of parking. So despite having passed by Moxie's many times, I wasn't surprised when I finally stepped inside for the first time.

There was something for everyone so my friend and his spouse settled on a large plate of nachos and their teenager picked chicken tenders and fries. Since I eat a mostly plant-based diet, I picked a sirloin steak ($37) as I don't cook like that at home. The grilled veggies and the mashed potato sides were all right, but the beef was terrible. It was tough to cut through and tougher to chew. I miss the Argentinian and Portuguese steaks of Toronto even though I was never a big meat-lover.

They were planning a 3-week family vacation in Japan for November. Since they all liked Japanese food it should be a fun trip. I suggested that in addition to ramen and sushi, they should try local dishes that haven't made it to North America like Nagashi Somen. When I mentioned that my financial plan included early retirement in a few years (at least in theory), they told me some acquaintances were also doing that even if they won't receive the maximum amount for their government pension. I opined that, as someone who works in the private sector and has crunched the numbers (or at least watched some videos), any pension was better than none.

I Will Lay Me Down

After my trip to Toronto in early June, sometimes fun sometimes not, my cough has continued to linger. This bland admission (to myself) masked an unpleasant truth: probable lung damage from a supposedly "minor illness" that could impact my quality of life.

To avoid being exposed to car exhausts and exacerbating my cough, I have been staying off the main roads for my walks. The upside was the exploration of some new neighbourhoods. These were older, richer areas so the homes were stately and unique instead of being cookie cutter suburban houses. A meandering path through a hill led me to the Beacon Hill Shopping Centre. I used to visit this mall because a high-school friend lived nearby. The decades have not been kind as most of the units were empty. The main tenants were several government services. Even so, one of them had left in 2022 according to the notice left on the door.

A solitary eatery called The Hill Bakehouse and Deli offered sandwiches and baked goods. It must have changed hands recently because the Asian owner sold various stir-fried items. I visited a few times and tried the beef noodles, chicken fried rice, samosas, and Jamaican patties. None were particularly outstanding but they were cheap ($6 or less) and had good portion size. With even fast-food lunches costing well over $10, I can see the appeal to the high-school students from nearby.

On Sunday, I finally saw a real-life, non-family person in 5 months. My friend and I ate some noodles in the Byward Market back in February. We were to meet again but our plans kept getting disrupted by extra-curricular activities on their side or sickness on my end. Originally, we had scheduled a brunch in the Market but at the last minute, we went to Yun Shang Noodles at Bank and Somerset. It was my suggestion because for Ottawans who drive, you have to offer alternatives near their house if they suddenly lose access to the family car. The thought of taking public transit was verboten.

I first tried "Crossing The Bridge" noodles several years ago in Toronto. This style was finally here in Ottawa. My friend was blown away by the price ($13) and the individual small dishes for each ingredient. It was a pleasing presentation even if you do dump them all into the boiling broth immediately. Since Covid, high-school exams were required only for grade 11 and 12. So with the extra 2 weeks, they took their teenager to visit Great Britain, Ireland, and Scotland. I recounted how my Toronto trip wasn't quite as fun as usual but still had some bright spots. Activities for the kids were picking up again in August so it would likely be several more months before our paths cross again.

Nonna? Nah, Nani

I took another day off on Tuesday but it was also without much activities. In the morning, I was debating whether or not to visit my old laundromat. It would be nice to clean my travel clothes. But I only had shorts and it was still too cold outside. It seemed wasteful to not wash my jeans. Breakfast was leftovers from previous meals: vegan momos and pilaf rice.

Near lunchtime, I walked to Dufferin Mall along College St. Most businesses on that strip have been around for a few years. But it looked like Gula Mexican Bar has replaced Lay Low Brewery. That spot has turned over numerous times including Pho Canh Buom and Me and Mine (one of the first gentrified business). After buying the Deluxe nut mix, I walked through Dufferin Grove. I was surprised there weren't many students on their lunch break. The sun was making things more pleasant so I ate a slice from 241 Pizza while people-watching. I complimented the owner on his craft; this franchise location was better than others and, in my opinion, even the trendier pizzerias. That was when I found out he worked 6 days a week. On the way back to my rental, I stopped off at Dosa Mahal for some curry puffs (5 for $5). I had planned on eating them with leftover Jamaican rice as my last dinner for this trip. But then I changed my mind. 

The lower-level Bsmt 254 venue at Lansdowne and College took over from an old business right at the start of the pandemic. A concert with Nyssa at the new spot was on my radar in 2021 but I was busy planning my move back to Ottawa. So whenever I was back in the neighbourhood, I was always looking for a show there. But since they primarily host dance and DJ nights, I haven't gone yet. When I passed by on my way to see Pomme I noticed a sign for Khaose.

This pinged my radar with its similar sounds to Khao Soi, the Northern Thai beef curry noodle soup. So it turned out that the Khao Soi was originally inspired by a Burmese concoction (ohn no khao swè) and Khawsa (or Khaose) was the Pakistani variant of that same dish. South Asian curry noodle? Oh, the leftover food can wait for another day!

During the day, a couple rented out the kitchen for their delivery service. Originally started out of their home kitchen during the pandemic, they now use this space for takeout and also continue to sell their "street food" at outdoor markets and festivals. I ordered a beef Khawsa ($18) and in a nutshell, it was delicious. The marinated beef was meltingly tender and its tangy sauce reminded me of musuman curry. The spaghetti soaked up the coconut curry and delivered rich toothsomeness. Outside of really good noodles, this was a better sauce-and-pasta combo than typical Italian fare. There was also a lot of texture as the dish came with a large variety of toppings: spring onions, chili flakes, garlic chips, onion crisps, crunchins', and slims.

Coeur de Patate

Monday night, I was at The Phoenix for a concert. This venerable venue had 6 more months before being turned into condos. The ground floor was only at half capacity and I don't think it got more than two-thirds full. Opener Laraw did a set of angry confessionals: the current style of sad songs comprising of quiet, wistful verses and loud refrains. She can reach for that big voice but needed a little more control over it. Her guitarist was a dud for me: the same quiet strumming of reverb-drenched chords on every song. Contrast that with Sunday's show by Chris and Nicole where variety in guitar playing added fullness to an acoustic duo set.

Pomme was a French musician (who also live in Montreal) I found online during the pandemic lock-downs. With my passable high-school French, I thought her lyrics were richly evocative. I suspected a live show was going to be more vibes than poetry. And I was right. My proximity to the stage had a great view, but line array speakers make even solo sets sound muffled. On top of that, a giant fan next to me filled my ears with a constant hum.

Luckily, Claire Pommet had a wide musical arsenal. First and foremost were her voice and guitar. Despite looking like a picture-perfect example of a French gamine with her oversized beret, pixie cut, and slim build, there was no cute, breathy vocals. Her voice often soared to stratospheric heights but also descended to a low, intimate croon. Her guitar playing was excellent, showcasing different techniques to accompany her singing. Several other instruments were also used including an auto-harp and a mini-synthesizer.

Pomme was a congenial performer, regaling us with stories about her music as well as her daily life. She spent the day bicycling around Toronto and enjoying Taro ice-cream. Apparently this treat (7 years on from her first taste) was not available in Quebec nor France? Though more than half the audience knew French, Pomme spoke primarily in English since she wanted to keep improving at it, a legacy from her younger days when she aspired to be an English teacher.

The audience got a great show, especially the francophones. Artists that would fill much larger venues elsewhere play to smaller crowds here. After the "pro forma" encore, which Pomme humorously described as a binding "oral contract" between her and the audience, we got a second one. Ms Pommet came out again when the crowd chants refused to die down. Obviously touched, she did a fully acoustic number, perched on a chair right at the edge of the stage. Pomme's first show in Toronto for her first North American (beyond Quebec) tour was a special one.

No Foodie No Fry

When I travel to Toronto, I am usually remote working. But I took Monday off to avoid the bi-weekly planning meeting. I had no plans for my own leisure time but the overcast sky decided for me: I was staying inside my rental. To be honest, I still lacked the energy to wander around.

In the morning, I walked over to Uncle Sid's Deli. I guess word has gotten around as there were several people waiting for their breakfast orders. The $7.95 special was gone with the cheapest breakfast now going for $11.95. But there were breakfast wraps for $7.25.  Essentially, it was a greasy diner meal but rolled up in a small pita; mine was eggs, sausage, hash brown and cheese. These turned out to be tasty, filling, and surprisingly not messy.

For lunch, I noticed that Saigon Sandwiches at Bloor and Lansdowne has been replaced by Momo Heart. I wasn't surprised that Saigon folded as their take on modern/fusion Viet was poorly executed. I did eat Nepalese momos a few days ago but I am always willing to support a small business. This new Tibetan spot had a simple menu: a variety of momos and some rice dishes. I was pleasantly surprised that there were 3 plant-based options. I chose the vegan momos ($9.99) with the milder Momo Heart sauce and a coleslaw side. With 8 momos to my order, this was a good deal for the price. The freshly steamed dumplings were toothsome and tender. The cabbage, mushroom, and tofu stuffing tasted so familiar to me. Then I remembered that the veggie buns at BauZza BauZza had the same flavour. Sadly, the pandemic killed that Chinese eatery near College and Spadina.

The visit to my dentist still cost me 3 scaling units but at least it took more than 10 minutes. But health-wise, you don't want them to spend so much time cleaning your teeth. Afterward, I walked back to Lansdowne along Bloor. The condo development at Dufferin was at around 6 stories, but they still have dozens to go. I peeked inside Queen of Patties and saw that the proprietress was serving a customer instead of being buried in the back with orders. I grabbed a beef patty ($4.50) for a quick snack. The crust remained deliciously flaky but there was less filling.

After a few months, Island Hot and Spicy has changed owners. 9 Mile also served Jamaican food and despite electronic signage proclaiming long hours (they were open 24/7 Thursday through Saturday!), they didn't seem to have much foot traffic either. I stepped inside for a Jerk Chicken meal ($13.99). Both the rice and chicken were outstanding: moist, flavourful, with just a little kick. This was even better than Island and head-and-shoulders above Jerk King at Bloor and Dufferin. It still baffles me how the latter remain so busy (location, location, location). The only negative was that the slaw and the stew sauce were too sweet. Next time I would ask for less of both items.

That's One Way To Say Goodbye

I left my East-End rental in the morning but I still had a few more days in Toronto. Since the check-in for my West-End rental was at 3 pm, there were several hours to kill. In normal June weather, I'd grab brunch and then relax at Dufferin Grove. I did have some luggage but they weren't bulky so going to the last day of the Do West street festival would also be doable. But with cool wind and rain, I had to be indoors. I ended up at Union Station watching passengers board buses, trains, or heading to the UP Express for the airport.

I had skipped lunch so after dropping off my stuff at the 2nd floor studio, I headed over to Laziza for a veggie plate. At $14.99, it wasn't quite the $8.99 deal a decade ago, but it was still a hefty takeout container full of rice, a variety of fresh greens, fried cauliflower, eggplant, and potatoes. This would normally be two meals but since this was my "linner", I ate the bulk of it. I spent the rest of the afternoon lying in bed. Who knew that just sitting in a busy transport hub could be tiring?

In the evening, I went to The Burdock for a show. Mattie Leon opened the night with songs about loved ones who have passed on (Marigold) and telling people you love them (Father's Wedding Speech). His sweet tone was a good match for the folkie, earnest set. I saw headliner Chris and Nicole in 2019 just before the pandemic. They were releasing their debut EP but also saying goodbye as Nicole was heading off to law school. 5 years later, they were finishing up their first LP and saying goodbye again. This time round, their lead guitarist was packing up his graduate degree and heading out west.

Chris seemed to be the main songwriter and his recent worry included reaching a plateau in his craft (Hunky Dory) after 10 years of writing. Nicole teased him that he was the type of dork who spends New Year's Eve writing songs like Old Friend and Take What You Need, Take What You Want instead of going out. Their voices blended well and the band supported them on numbers that sometimes had a touch of alt-country and sometimes a bluesy feel. For the new songs, they did an homage to power pop (Stay) and a few sing-along numbers.

It was a full crowd that were appreciative and good-natured. That'd be a good sign, but like their show at The Painted Lady, it was all family and friends. So it was hard to gauge the progress of their musical career. Were they building a fan base? It could be that in today's industry, a project like Chris and Nicole can only be a side-gig outside of day jobs as UX designer and lawyer-in-waiting. Hopefully, I'll hear more buzz about them soon instead of in another 5 years.

The Weak-end

Saturday morning was sunny but there was an unseasonal nip to the wind. Along Monarch Park Drive, a neighbourhood garage sale was taking place. It was mostly young families so the main wares were children's items such as toys, clothes, and books. The kids' were selling lemonade, cookies, and freezies. Some older folks laid out decades-old dinnerware and small furniture.

I didn't find anything useful that could fit into my travel bag. The best community yard sale for me is the one along Palmerston Boulevard. First, it was a well-off neighbourhood so there were always unique and catchy items on display. But at the same time, it had (or used to before gentrification) a good number of young renters. So they were always off-loading clothes and other household goods before moving. A decade ago, I got a mini-desktop computer and a 25" LCD monitor for $30. I brought my finds back to Ottawa where this cheap upgrade was perfect for my Mom's needs.

I then walked to Pape and then doubled back to Coxwell. This stretch encompassing Greenwood and Donlands were relatively underdeveloped though some construction was already taking place for a massive development. I was looking for a shawarma joint that could supply me with a veggie/falalel plate. There were none so it was a bianca slice from the Pizzaiolo near my stay.

Lunch actually made me a bit nauseous. Since I also had a concert in the evening, I cocooned myself underneath a blanket for the rest of the afternoon. I was in a semi-conscious state where fragments of dream meant I did occasionally doze off but it never felt like I was ever asleep. Somewhat recovered, but not at 100%, I got a veggie combo ($17) takeout from Ethiopian restaurant Abugida.

But I ended up staying in for a 3rd night. Yes, unlike the other "potential" shows, I had already bought a ticket. I also hadn't seen headliner Allie X since 2019 and opener Maylee Todd since 2017. Torontonians before they moved to L.A. for better opportunities, these musicians held special spots in my heart. A show with the both of them would be a treat. Energy-wise though, I was drained despite my afternoon rest. It was going to rain all night and the thought of getting back after the show while cold and wet was unappealing. Finally, my stomach was grumbling after dinner. It turned out to be a milder case than the episode in Montreal but I usually cancel plans after these intestinal bouts.

Et Tu Bhojan

Friday morning, I went for an early jog through the side streets north of Danforth that I meant to explore last time. I felt strong and healthy though the feeling didn't last through the rest of the day. Passing by a subway station entrance, there was a camera crew waiting to interview early commuters. It turned out the transit strike was averted at the last minute.

I was vaguely disappointed since Toronto would still be walkable without motorized transportation. For the strike back in 2008 I bought a used bike. The walkout, which was struck down by provincial legislation, was so short that I didn't need it for commuting to work. But the bike proved convenient for getting around town until cumulative thefts (first the seat, then the front wheel) made it unusable. Now its presence only existed as old images on Google Street View.

It rained until the afternoon so I worked remotely from my room. Ironic since I was much closer to the office here than in Ottawa. The bao ($3.25) and chicken banh mi ($5.50) that I bought from Huy Ky yesterday provided sustenance. In the early evening, I made my way through pleasant weather to the Nepalese restaurant Bhojan Ghar. This joint, along with Abugida, were pleasant discoveries back in December. I enjoyed my return to the latter and I was looking forward to trying out more food from Bhojan. But I was disappointed with my meal this time round.

The giant image of Dehradhun still hung on the wall but the young and eager waitstaff was gone. Instead of the Nepali Thali, I chose Paneer Makhani ($14.99), Naan ($3.25), and a plate of Chicken Momos ($15). The best were the momos, which I haven't had in more than a decade; they were soft, chewy, and nicely seasoned. With 10 of them, there were plenty of leftovers.

The naan and curry were poor dishes. Gone was the fragrance and toothsomeness that made me ranked the flatbread so highly last time. At first, I attributed it to my taste buds. I have been theorizing that age has dulled my senses. How else to explain the lack of flavour from recent outings both in Toronto and Ottawa? But if true, the Makhani curry would be even worse off because it was shockingly sweet. I ate the cheese cubes but left half the curry untouched. Bhojan was bustling with takeout orders and sit-down guests. The locals have obviously embraced it so perhaps I was the problem.

I returned to my stay already a bit unsettled and my energy drained away for the rest of the evening. If this year's CMW shows were at bigger venues like The Garrison or Revival Club, I might have tried my luck. But although there were some concerts at larger halls, the multi-band showcases for CMW 2024 were in tiny spots like The Painted Lady or Jazz Poetry Café. The thought of sitting cheek-to-jowl while masked and coughing had no appeal for me.

The Freshmaker

The Thursday morning trip was as dreary as I felt. After my visit to my grandma 2 week-ends ago, I came down with a fever. She thought I didn't dress for the weather (it was a cool-ish Spring day) but I think it was that I forgot to wear my mask on the bus. After my fever cleared, I wasn't surprised that a cough lingered on. For about 2 decades, this was the bane of any illness. So I was feeling rather low-energy from sleepless nights and interminable bouts of coughing.

Toronto was sunny and hot but compared to previous trips, I couldn't muster up my usual enthusiasm for The Big Smoke. But once I made it to my East End rental, the heat and liveliness finally perked up my spirit. I was staying on a main-floor bedroom instead of the usual basement suite. It was smaller but the higher ceiling and window view onto the street were good compensation. I chatted with the owner: must be nice to have an income from renting out rooms and traveling all over the world.

When I stay here, I often walk down to Riverdale to buy some comestibles. With summer coming, some of the local shops were setting up their sidewalk patio. I made purchases at Banh Mi Huy Ky but my detour to No Frills was a bust. I was planning to buy my usual Deluxe nut mix as well as some canned food for a charity concert at The Garrison. I should have paid attention to the signage back in April. All the stores have closed to make way for a new subway station and high density development.

I thought about returning to The Real Jerk but one of the newcomers finally opened. Nutmento was a small space that also offered Caribbean fare. There were a few tables and paintings of Bob Marley and Drake. Given the recent beef between the latter and Kendrick Lamar, handily won by Kendrick, a giant mural of Aubrey was a bold choice. I debated between just a sandwich (not usually offered at these places) and a regular meal. I finally opted for a full bowl ($12.95) to support the new business.

It was a large meal comprising of both saffron rice and rice and peas as well as your choice of toppings (I picked coleslaw, corn, tomatoes, daal, and some jalapeno peppers). I'm always astounded at the amount of food compared to Ottawa. The curry chicken was soft and tender but the sauce was too runny. Nutmento didn't dethrone Real Jerk based on flavour but it gets kudos on price; the full bowl was several bucks cheaper than the competition and the $7 jerk-chicken sandwiches would make an affordable lunch.

Lacking canned donations for the concert, the distant location of the venue, and a possible transit strike at midnight, I settled my tired body down for an early night instead.

Keyboard Confessional

After my trip from Toronto, I was back to remote working in Ottawa with a daily walk around the neighbourhood. I have taken to listening to audiobooks on my stroll to drown out the car noise. Since last year, I've realized that Ottawa was a dirtier city than Toronto. I saw litter everywhere, and not just bags of chips or pop cans, piling up on sidewalks, parks, and even lawns and driveways. The lack of public garbage receptacles and city staff cleaning up were likely the main culprit. But perhaps something about Ottawa turn people into jerks: strewn detritus only steps from people's homes; multiple encounters with people who threw empty containers to the ground; and dog poop (and bags of dog poop?!) left in the grass (and once on a tree branch).

I decided to pay for whole-life insurance after a lengthy meeting with my advisors. I accepted their main argument that it was essentially a better-than-average GIC. Later in life, I could access the cash value or simply leave any gains tax-free for beneficiaries. As someone who left their money under a digital mattress for more than a decade, I'm not exactly a poster-child for aggressive investing. The rest of my money was now invested in the stock market, and the volatility was shocking. At the end of April, my market value was thousands of dollars in the red. Now a few weeks later in May, I was thousands in the black. It was all "unrealized" gains or losses but what was real were the fees. So I was currently in the red for the year.

As my mom was in Toronto this Mother's Day week-end with some friends, I decided to go to a concert at the NAC 4th stage on Saturday. The first and only time I saw opener Mikhail Laxton, he was supposedly living in Toronto and collaborating with artists like Lydia Persaud. But tonight he told the hometown crowd he has been in Ottawa for 8 years. I liked this set better than the one at The Drake Underground. Instead of cliché songs about exes and new flames, he sang about his alcoholic absentee father, the rough worker's hotel in his Australian hometown, and working-class life.

I hadn't seen headliner Maia Davies in a decade. It turns out after 7 years, her all-women rock band Ladies Of The Canyon called it quits. Ms Davies then became a professional songwriter, penning a dozen top-ten hits for a variety of artists. She also released 2 solo albums in French. But leaving her abusive partner, who also gave her "access" to studio work, left her at rock-bottom mentally and professionally (blacklisted from the corporate music industry). Maia drove cross-country to L.A. to stay in Venice Beach. During the pandemic years, she holed up with her bubble of artistic friends in California, where the genesis of her new album Lovers' Gothic was formed to address all the trauma.

These details came out in long stories during a set that Davies said was both a performance and a healing/therapy session from "TMI Maia". It was no surprise that her idols included Tori Amos and Kate Bush as her new songs had similar musical intricacies and vocals that swooped and soared. A lifetime of choir practice and classical music training as well as her experience as touring musician, producer, and songwriter were evident. There was a craft to her music that, without compromising its emotional heft, could be lacking in younger musicians.

That's A Wrap

Trips to Toronto often involved delicious food not available in Ottawa. But last week's visit was disappointing culinary-wise except for the first meal, perhaps because I was relying on Toronto Life's recent list of "cheap eats". A few months back, they published an article that named The Danforth and several areas near Yonge and Sheppard to be the top 10 neighbourhoods in Toronto. This risible take had me wondering if the staff were transplants and don't actually know much about The Big Smoke. Likewise, several well-known entries on that cheap-eats list already had me rolling my eyes. I should have listened to my gut instinct and skipped the rest.

Returning from Burlington after my solar eclipse watch on Monday, I headed to the Baldwin area of Kensington Market. Unfortunately, Takoyaki 6ix was closing up for the day. So I headed to the busy Spadina and College intersection. In a building with one of the few remaining internet gaming café and next to the Burger King on the corner, there was an outdoor ATM. It was then boarded up for a long time before someone tried a tiny coffee kiosk, then a coffee/drinks/ice cream location. Now, Corner Crepe was taking a shot with offerings of Chinese crepe or Jian Bing Guo Shi.

I opted for the traditional one ($6.99). The crepe was large for the price and stuffed with eggs, salad, scallion, and cilantro. But it was bland and boring despite the spicy sauce. Maybe the addition of sausage or other add-ons ($3.99) would add more flavour. The one bright spot was the texture contrast between the soft crepe shell and the crunchy wonton crisp. I liked it better than the Japanese crepe at Millie Creperie but it wasn't the revelation that was long defunct Qian He.

Before I headed to the Chess tournament at The Great Hall on Tuesday, I went back to Baldwin to try a vegan Egyptian spot called Eat Nabati. Most of their pita wraps contained tahini but I decided to risk an allergic reaction with a Cauliflower Za'atar ($7.99). Sadly, the fried floret wasn't flavourful and the rest of the veggie ingredients, though fresh, didn't justify a pita that was 40% smaller than most shawarma places. While eating my lunch, I thought that I'd prefer vegan versions of the Egyptian street food from Tut's.

My last attempt at a tasty meal came after a dance recital Tuesday night. I knew that Lahore Grill was opened late. Two years on from my last take-out there, it was still one of the best South Asian place I've been to. I hopped on a Carlton street-car that would take me directly there along Gerrard St. Unfortunately, 3 blocks into my ride, the driver had to stop the vehicle because one of the passengers, passed out in their seat, needed a wellness check from EMS. With this emergency blocking all traffic eastbound on Gerrard, I returned to Parliament and took an alternate route back to my rental. By then, I was too hungry to wait for the Greenwood bus that could also drop me off at Lahore. While I ate the last slice of bianca from the nearby Pizzaiolo, I reflected on the bad timing. If I had arrived at the Parliament and Gerrard stop 20 seconds earlier, I would have caught the previous street-car.

Mixed Company

Tuesday night, I barely made it in time for a dance recital at Citadel & Compagnie at Dundas and Parliament. Toronto transit was frequent and relatively speedy, but I underestimated the travel time from my stay at Coxwell. I was rushing in so I didn't get a chance to wander through the former Salvation Army building. But it looked fairly spacious with a lounge/bar area and a dance stage. The seats were plastic chairs crammed tight, reminding me of the set-up of Storefront Theatre back in the day.

The site was hosting a new two week dance showcase of mostly local talent called Spring Mix. With her connections to Quebec, artistic director Laurence Lemieux was also bringing several companies from Montreal. I was looking forward to it since my only exposure to Citadel was a live event over Zoom during the pandemic.

All four pieces were contemporary but the two that got the best responses were grounded in traditional forms. The first piece was Hannah Kiel's "pas de deux" for 2 National Ballet apprentices. This was the shortest and most unsatisfying. Whether due to its length or Kiel's own temperament, it was chaotic and frenetic. The piece lacked motif, repeated phrasing, and mirrored movement that typically give structure to a dance. This was important for a contemporary number that introduce a new "vocabulary" to the audience.

Kala Dance Collective was rooted in the Indian dance Bharatanatyam. It started with a long section where the dancers were mostly seated. You might not be aware of the full significance, but their facial expressions, arm movement, and finger positions (Mudras) told stories. Later, they flowed through the stage with quick slides, spins, and Kathakesque feet taps. If I had to guess, all the dancing was classical but the narrative was modern.

Samantha Sunderland's 4-person piece had more structure in its contemporary choreography, with her dancers struggling to break free from the grasps of hooded individuals. This piece's shortcoming was giving equal time to all the performers in solos and pairs. So it dragged a bit with stretches where the dancing seemed to lack purpose and ideas.

The final piece, a solo by Sofi Gudiño, got the most engagement. People were chuckling at the start as Gudiño wandered the stage, checking out the dressing room mirror, looking at the lights, trying out steps at various locations. This "backstage" intro led to two dynamic sections. They started in tights and a short flamenco jacket. Their movement was masculine bravado with feet stomps and sharp arm bends. Gudiño winked and blew kisses to the crowd. Then an assistant came on to help them into a pink "Gitana dress" with a long train. Their dance became more fluid and included high heel kicks so that the train could be flipped up and spun behind them. The audience gave delighted gasps when Gudiño gathered the layered, frilly hem above their head, forming a ruffled structure that, like Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings, could be interpreted in different ways. The synthwave score was an interesting contrast to the sharp strumming of traditional flamenco music.

It was a great end to a fun evening of dance. I didn't stick around for the meet-and-greet. I had skipped dinner so it was time to look for some food. 8:30 wasn't that late but many restaurants in Toronto do close or wind down around 9 pm.

The Kings Of Queen St

Tuesday morning, I headed north up Coxwell for a short stroll. I usually avoid arterial roads due to car noises but I wanted a change from walking along Danforth Avenue. I thought it would be a concrete jungle like Dufferin or Ossington in the West End but Coxwell was more like an ok Dovercourt Rd. That is: with the houses set back from the street with green lawns, it was nicer than Dovercourt north of Bloor but it wasn't quite the pleasant tree-lined boulevard of Dovercourt south of Bloor.

Near O'Connor there was a cluster of businesses. You can always tell where the downtown of former villages used to be by the block or two of stores amid the residential homes. Of course, 150 years ago, they wouldn't have had Sushi or Greek restaurants. I wanted to check out this area during my sublet in 2022. I never got around to it and don't recall which restaurant was on my to-do list.

I also wanted to visit the series of connected parks and green space around here so I looked for a pedestrian entry. One of them, Taylor Bryant Park, was nestled among the chi-chi houses of Taylor Drive. A series of steep stairs led me down to Taylor Creek. Looking back, I should have taken the walking trails to Woodbine or even Victoria Park. But I headed west to the Don Valley. This wetland strip was a bit of nature amid the urban landscape but it wasn't particularly pleasant. Firstly, the noise from the DVP highway mostly drowned out the Don river or any other natural sounds. And secondly, you were committed to a long walk as there was no exit until past the Millwood Rd bridge at Beechwood. I then headed south along traffic-heavy Broadview until I was back at Danforth before double back to my rental. This accidental 11 km walk took almost 2.5 hours to complete.

After a quick washing up, I jumped on the subway to the first event of the day: the Fide Chess Candidates at The Great Hall. The top players from 2023 competed in classical chess for 3 weeks. The winner would face the current champion later in the year. It was the first time The Candidates was played in North America and the first time ever that both the Open and the Women's Candidates took place at the same time and in the same location. I wasn't a huge chess fan (nor a good player) but this was the sort of random event that I used to attend because Toronto was a big city full of interesting activities.

It turned out to be a let-down. Though my ticket claimed that I had a window from 2:40-4:30 pm to watch the players from the balcony, you had to be there by 2 pm. There was no "late-comers" or any sort of rotating entry policy. There was also a "no camera and phone" restriction. I wasn't the only one caught flat-footed by this strict rule.

Supposedly, this was to give the players a quiet environment to compete. But given that media was walking around on the main floor with cameras while VIPs (those who paid for pricier packages) can enter and leave at any time, I doubt these policies were meaningful. In any case, we all shuffled into the fan-zone in the basement to watch the matches on TV monitors. I hung around listening to the commentaries, watched some amateur games, and bought a t-shirt as a souvenir. I headed out after about an hour as it was too sunny an afternoon to be inside watching a screen.

Dark Side of the Moon

I was in Toronto for the total solar eclipse of 2024 happening on Monday. I knew that 99% coverage was not enough so I needed to get to a place in the path of totality. Luckily, the inter-city Go Transit rail line would allow me to reach several such spots easily. I opted for Burlington, a place I haven't visited in a decade. I was also meeting up with the same friend who had settled there back then. The two of us haven't met or spoken to each other since 2019 when we met up for some ice cream near Queen and Ossington during my 4 weeks yoga training intensive.

They picked me up at the Appleby train station and we decided to try for the Waterfront. After we parked just up the street in a No Frills strip mall, they worryingly inquired if I was up to walking the 700m along Brant Street. It was a truly suburban attitude as I had walked several kilometres on Sunday. Brant was a pleasant avenue with numerous small businesses but I wondered how many locals actually come "downtown" regularly. We stopped off at Lena's Roti and Doubles for lunch. Apparently, this suburban chain had several stores all over the GTA. Not sure how the other locations fared but the food here, a small chicken roti ($8.99) and a regular channa doubles ($3.25), was average at best.

Since morning, the sky was thick with clouds. We were unlikely to see the eclipse except for secondary effects (temperature drop, twilight) so we ditched the crowd down by the water and headed for a quieter scene at Central Park. But miraculously, by 2 pm, the clouds were mostly gone. Our eclipse glasses showed us a crescent orb that slowly ate up the sun. Past 3 o'clock and 90% coverage, the shadows became sharp, colours took on an odd vividness while the daylight had a hazy, looking-glass quality. When the sun went behind a major cloud formation 5 minutes from totality, we thought for sure we would miss the climatic moment. But incredibly there was a clear patch, day became night, and after a burst of light at the solar rim, the moon fully covered the sun. With the corona sparkling around the orb, it looked like a hole had been cut out of the sky; it was somehow blacker than the night firmament. Totality was spectacular and otherworldly.

Over the several hours that we spent together, we caught up with our lives. Mine was relatively uneventful as both my mom and 95-year-old grandma were in good health. I related my financial plans from insurance to investing, all with the aim for retirement. Theirs was a bit more up-and-down. They briefly separated from their spouse and moved to Hamilton. But their company in nearby Dundas had a major lay-off last year. It was a blessing in disguise since the racial micro-aggression was stressful. Then they reconciled with the partner and decided to move back to Burlington.

Looking for work in the last 8 months has been challenging. There were several stressors. First, their perfectionist nature meant they worked for weeks on each application. Second, there were usually several rounds of interviews in competition with hundreds of other people. Finally, they were ambivalent about continuing as an E-learning author since they wanted to transition to a different career.

They had turned down a 7-month consulting gig but I gently suggested that they might want to inquire after a different contract opportunity that was in the works. For one thing, there was less emotional attachment to a temporary job. They could also be earning better than government unemployment benefits, relieving any money worries, while figuring out what the next steps could be for a career change.

Time To Feel Good

I have been more diligent with my exercise regime ever since I got a digital scale back in March. It turned out the decades-old spring scale in the bathroom was off by 10 lbs. Yikes! I knew I was no spring chicken but I thought I was in better shape. So it was Yoga every morning and then a 45-minute walk around the neighbourhood in the afternoon.

The weight slowly came off and that had a second benefit. The insurance company called to arrange a medical check-up because whole-life insurance had stricter requirements. Despite my friend's skepticism of permanent insurance, I decided to at least go through with the exam. Since there was 3 vials worth of blood-work, I didn't want a personal nurse visit. I guess applicants didn't usually make a fuss about this because they struggled to find a clinic as an alternative.

The one they finally found cost a pretty penny according to my phone contact. But I supposed the prospect of getting those huge, yearly premiums was too tempting to pass up. I wasn't sure why it was more expensive until I stepped inside La Vie Health two weeks ago. Apparently when people can afford a private "executive health" clinic, they get access to half a dozen doctors as well as a plethora of nurses and other specialists. This couldn't be more different than my mom's experience over the last few years at walk-in clinics ever since her family doctor retired.

On Saturday, after printing tickets for my upcoming trip to Toronto at the library, I passed by Frys Guy. This chip wagon closed for the winter but I didn't realized that they re-open this early. So I grabbed a small poutine ($7) for lunch. After all, nobody will be measuring my waist anytime soon.

The next day, I was back in Toronto. This was my 3rd stay at this East End AirBnB. Like last time, I walked to Little India and then to Gerrard Square. After a bit of shopping, I went to see if any of the new shops had opened. But Montreal Smoked Meat and Nutmento (Caribbean Grill) was still under renovation. I made my way back up to Danforth Avenue via Logan. Despite my 2-month sublet in 2022 and walking everywhere, there were still pockets of the East End that I missed. This road was a mix of modest homes, modest homes modernized with trendy construction, and larger houses. The latter dominated the street across from Withrow Park. Even a decade ago, a friend couldn't afford a house in this neighbourhood and settled for Donlands. They have since upgraded to the rarified airs of Cedarvale.

Walking along Danforth back to my rental near Coxwell, I passed by many businesses. I haven't visited enough to tell if they were new or long-time shops except the ones that had "established in 1989" or "opened since 1985". For younger folks, that must seem ancient. But how could they be considered old if I was already alive back then? I was surprised that the basement restaurant Le Plato was still around.

Famished after my long walk in the sunshine, I stepped inside the modest Ethiopian restaurant Abugida. I had a wonderful veggie combo ($17) last time and this time round the beet, lentils, berbere sauce, and collard greens were just as tasty. I did switch to genuine Ethiopian injera for an extra $3.25. As it is made from teff and not wheat, sometimes a restaurant will advertised them as gluten-free. I wouldn't recommend teff injera to first-timers because the fermentation makes the flatbread a bit sour. This can be off-putting if you aren't used to the flavour. Wheat-based "Canadian injera" would be an easier entry point.

Cover Me

On Friday, I saw an old friend at Algerian restaurant Idriss near St. Laurent and Beechwood. It has only been a few weeks since we had a group meal after years apart. But this time it was just the two of us without their partner. Having just returned from a skiing holiday in Banff, they were heading off on Sunday to Europe for a work conference.

The big news was that they decided to re-up with the Canadian Armed Forces for another 5 years. This would bump their pension up to 50%. Combined with government benefits like CPP and OAS (available for everyone), I calculated that this would exceed my own projected retirement income. Also, these were indexed to inflation and not dependent on any market growth like my own savings. This sum didn't even include their own personal investments. As their partner was in a similar situation, they were set for a very comfortable retirement.

We also talked about me considering whole-life insurance as part of my recent effort to get my "financial" house in order. They thought it was mostly a scam while I preferred the permanent aspect. I never liked term insurance because the idea that you could pay premiums for decades but it could still expire seemed "wrong". My 95-year-old grandmother, who left everything behind in the old country, was comforted by the fact that her life insurance meant that she had something for her descendants. Given that companies don't renew policies for term insurance past 85, I suspect that piece of paper on her desk may not hold any value. In any case, my friend gave me some questions to ask the agent.

I was at this restaurant back in 2021. I forgot that I enjoyed the food here as every restaurant in Ottawa has been disappointing since I moved back. Our order of chicken bourak ($7.49), eggplant gratin ($18.99), and Kafta Tajine ($19.99) was tasty and fragrant. I don't know if Idriss has changed owners (both visits have been to a mostly empty restaurant) but they have redecorated. Some of the dishes have doubled in price and the spongy, traditional bread (Khobz El Dar) has been replaced with generic bakery rolls. But the food here was still worth return visits.

15/03/2023: My grandma has whole-life insurance. She has done more for the family than leaving behind a little bit of money. But given our capitalistic society, if it makes her happy that she has something "tangible" to pass on, then I'm glad she bought it.

Future Nostalgia

Retrocity finally had their 25th anniversary concert on Saturday at the Redwood Theatre. It was postponed from December due to illness but the delay gave them a chance to sell out the venue. I had passed by this building several times during my sublet but they had no shows in winter of 2022. So I was curious to finally see the inside.

This former movie venue was larger than The Paradise but not as large as the old Royal on College. The seating was supper-club style similar to Lula Lounge in the West end. The roomy space allowed for many more seats and though you could get snacks, you weren't obliged to order dinner like at Lula. There were also some antique paraphernalia including a large film projector from the 60s sitting in the lobby. Aerial silks hung from the rafters as this was also home to an acrobatic and circus studio. All in all, the Redwood had a great vibe.

Most of audience (friends, coworkers, acquaintances) knew this 7-member a capella band and their 80s covers. The newbies were introduced to fun arrangements like Mr. Roboto and Maniac. But the energy sagged through the middle part of the 1st set from obscure songs (Phil Collins' I Don't Care Anymore) and jazzy covers of Tears For Fears and Frank Sinatra. Ostensibly this was to show us that we were as far from the 80s as that decade was from Porgy and Bess and big-band Jazz of the 1930s. Luckily, the set ended on a high-energy medley of New Wave songs. This new arrangement got huge cheers.

The 2nd set opened with a photo montage while the singers covered Without Us (Family Ties Theme). 25 years ago, they were baby-faced grads. But since they were also dressed in 80s garb for shows, the photos seemed to be from an even older era. The songs were recognizably "big hits" including The Right Stuff; Retrocity's first ever cover of NKOTB went over like gangbusters. Cancon was represented with Love Is Fire (Lorraine Segato), Black Stations/White Stations (Martha Johnson), and Something To Talk About (Shirley Eikhard). The set closed with Toto's Africa, a crowd favourite and fun singalong. For the encore, Retrocity sang their sublime arrangement of Cohen's Hallelujah.

I was in an odd mood for the show. As one of the singer pointed out, it has been 35-40 years for folks who were adults and teens in the 80s. Even children and babies when Retrocity originally started their journey as a one or two show lark were now grown. Similar to my feelings about Dwayne Gretzky shows, the audience vibe was starting to feel backward-looking.

The East End wasn't connected to Toronto's music scene. Its mid-sized venues (Opera House, Danforth Music Hall, History) hosted more established (and usually touring) acts. But there were no smaller stages for local up-and-comers. Early in the evening, I felt that The Redwood could be that anchor. But then I read the mission statement of its' booker and promoter. Tribute bands, jazz crooners, oldie genre was how they planned to bring "fun" to this area. There was nothing here for new music and the current generation.