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. In any case, 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 room for an outdoor ATM. It was boarded up for a long time before someone attempted 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 Nabati selling 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

Saturday 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.

Saturday Serials

Sunrise on Saturday was obscured by a light misty rain. But it was warmer than Friday which made my morning run more enjoyable. After passing through Little India and the neighbourhood beyond Coxwell, I circled back and stopped off at New Family diner. During my sublet in 2022, I came to this OG establishment for a chicken burger and also a steak. It was finally time to eat their breakfast. A sticker on the menu apologized that they had to raise prices by $1 due to rising cost. But nowadays, 3 eggs, sausage, and home fries for $9.95 was a steal. I skipped the complimentary coffee and the ladies, who have probably worked the counter for decades, forgot my toasts as everyone was engrossed with the latest Liam Neeson action flick on the TV.

I thought about seeing the new Dune 2 because, in all things, The Big Smoke had amenities that Ottawa lacked. In this case, it was a 70mm movie theatre at Varsity cinema at Bay and Bloor. There was even a 70mm Imax but that was quite the trek up to Vaughan. But the logistics of a 3 hour screening didn't work out: before lunch and I'd be famished, later in the afternoon and it would affect my evening plans.

Instead, I decided to visit the best pizza shop in the city for lunch. It has been a year since I've been to Fresca. I was glad the owner was there; age might have made them take week-ends off. The wife was at home because she was relaxing on her birthday. Then she was off to Vietnam for a month to see family. The husband looked more invigorated than last time, but there was still no one to pass on the business. So the eventual demise of Toronto-style pizza was still a likely outcome.

During our chat, the store filled up with customers. We were all waiting for the first batch of per-slice pizzas to come out of the oven. Most were regulars but there was one bemused newcomer, an American by way of Edmonton. In town on a family vacation, he was lured in by the online reviews. He made a slight error in ordering a small pizza. But once he saw everyone grabbing the large slices ($4.50) and adding the garlic scallion oil, he also got one to go. I'm certain we have a new convert on our hand.

I wracked my brain for an alternative to Bhojan Ghar for dinner because I had an early show in the evening. I then realized that from Fresca I could take the College streetcar heading back East. I'd be able to stop off at the new Pakistani take-out near Greenwood and grab something for later. It turned out that their chicken Biryani ($7.99) portion was huge, easily big enough for 2-3 meals.

I also stopped by one of the new hopefuls. Teako offered loose-leaf tea latte, breakfast items like scones and sandwiches, and a variety of filipino dishes. While I was waiting for my coconut oolong milk tea latte ($5.99), I talked to the proprietors. They've been here since 2021 but I didn't notice during my sublet because Teako didn't have a storefront for walk-ins until last July.

Will these new businesses stick around until I could get that old sublet again? Street Sizzlers, BeadWorks, Doodle's Market, Lahore Tikka House, and Mumbai Frankie were dead or on life-support. Frankie ("Irani cafe with a twist") was still under renovation when my short-term rental ended. Yet it was already boarded up again and "under new management" less than 2 years later.

War and Pace

Friday evening, I was at Crow's Theatre for the musical Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. This adaptation of a Tony-winning Broadway show has been breaking records. While local productions usually has a 3-4 week run, Natasha's has been extended several times and was now into its 3rd month. So I was able to snag a ticket even if 4 of the cast members (including veteran Louise Pitre) recently left the show due to other commitments.

Strangely enough my first (and only) show at this east-end Theatre was also set in Russia. But unlike that show's stark setting, this one was richly decorated evoking opera houses and aristocratic residences in Moscow. The audience was much closer, sitting up in the balcony, and also at barstools and small tables on both sides of the stage. This cabaret set-up allowed the characters to interact with the crowd throughout the night.

The musical was based on a 70-page excerpt from Tolstoy's magnum opus concentrating on Countess Natasha's (Hailey Gillis) infatuation with cad Anatole (George Krissa) while bethrothed to Prince Andrei. Meanwhile, Andrei's brother-in-law Count Pierre (Evan Buliung) was lamenting his wasted life: drunk, growing ever fatter, and with an unfaithful wife. There were enough characters that the show opened with a song to introduce them all to the audience (with a winking exhortation to read the show notes).

The occasional 4th wall breaking and anachronisms were used to inject humour into the musical: an EDM-esque song when the nobles went to a "club to party", Dolokhov's (Tyler Pearse) frat bros gestures, Hélène's (Divine Brown) booty call number about Natasha and Anatole. Unlike pastiche or "greatest hits" pop musicals, The Great Comet's songs were more sing-through musical theatre à la Les Miz but with a sonic palette that included dance and indie rock. But having the characters also sing Tolstoy's detailed prose about each other and often themselves took some getting used to. It was as if they were referring to themselves in the 3rd person; but in popular culture illeism in English is usually used as a gag.

There were hints of Russian folk song influence throughout the night but most notably in the barn-burner Balaga, when the troika driver and the cast was getting ready for Natasha's elopement in the 2nd act. The latter was also the stronger half as it concentrated on that event and its fall-out. The 1st act seemed too frenetic trying to cram numerous plot lines into an hour.

I overheard a number of Russian speakers inside the venue and at the bar. I wondered how they felt about the show. I admit I did not realized the musical was based on Tolstoy (not much of a reader of Russian literature). So beside the Eastern European names, a story of upper-class propriety and venality seemed to me like it could have been Bridgerton or any other period piece about societal scandals.

It's In The Details

On Friday, I made the rounds in the East End from my AirBnB. At break of dawn, I jogged through the neighbourhood. It was a chilly run through Monarch Park and down to Little India. But thanks to my short sublet back in 2022, I knew about all the little pathways.

My mind wandered during my run. First, while making my way to my rental via streetcar and bus on Thursday, I noticed all the students using transit by themselves (or in little groups). Many were teenagers but there were also children no more than 8 or 9 years old. My younger cousins and nieces never had that level of independence living in the suburbs. Second, as I was cleaning up before my dental appointment, I noticed long-term grime in parts of the bathroom. This morning, I saw that the microwave and mini-fridge were not cleaned since the last guest. Finally, I was nonplussed when I given the same PIN as last time to access the main door and my room. At Victoria's Mansion, they gave out random passcode each time I visited. I then had a Eureka moment; my PIN was likely just my room number and the house's address. Sure enough, guessing the PIN of another room successfully opened the main entrance as well.

Mid-morning, I walked to Gerrard Square to do some shopping. Since my sublet, the microbrewery and coffee shop on industrial Wagstaff drive had new neighbours including a chi-chi furniture store (Avenue Road), a florist (Quince Flowers), and a chocolate shop (Soul Chocolate). My mom loved the New Year bonbons from Onyx Chocolate so I stepped inside Soul to get a gift. After chatting with the owner about his large production space, I got 6 pieces (Champagne, Hazelnut, Vegan Coffee) for $18.

The gentrification of Riverdale along Gerrard St. continued in the past 2 years. But similar to Bloordale over the last decade, it also meant a lot of churn. Queer-friendly Lavender Menace was now organic pastry and smoothie store Sprouty. Ironically, allergy-free Hype Food next door closed for coffee shop Scenic. Barkside Treats became Mess Hall, a "co-working kitchen" offering baked goods and workshops. Poison Tattoo turned into Leni Poki with its pig-themed boba tea and poke bowls. G-B Hand-Pulled Noodles gave way to Hana Ramen while Great Burger Kitchen (practically an OG) was TBD. Los Cantaritos took over La Cubana's east-end outpost (once Mazen Sushi, Bar Habana). Along with the churn were new hopefuls setting up in old storefronts including Teako (loose-leaf tea, brunch), Nutmento (Caribbean Grill), and Montreal Smoked Meat.

I preferred old-school places so I stopped at Banh Mi Huy Ky for a veggie sub ($5.50) and bao ($3.25), Winners for some new jeans, No Frills for a nut mix not available in Ottawa, and finally Pizza Pide for lunch ($16.95). I also liked new businesses that preserve the character of a neighbourhood. So on my way back, I bought a mango lassi ($5) from the generically-named Chai, Samosa & Chaat across from Lahore Grill.

For Want Of Ten Minutes

On Thursday, I was off to Toronto to visit my dentist and see a few shows. This was the cheapest Rider Express bus ride at only $20 each way. This made up for the higher price on the last trip. Unfortunately, this wasn't due to buying early but was likely some sort of special discount. Although there was no such indication when I bought it so perhaps a software glitch got me the deal.

At our stopover in Kington, I went to Fat Bastard instead of Mr Sub. I've only eaten a handful of times at these types of Tex-Mex franchises when I had no good alternatives. Overall, they have been entirely disappointing. I had forgotten I went to Fat Bastard when it was still a Toronto franchise back in 2013. My choice of a large veggie burrito ($10.49) was a filling lunch but that was about it. I supposed bland ingredients was better than a mediocre sub comprising of mostly bland bread.

I also regained some of the time lost last trip when that bus got stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I was 20 minutes early this time round but I wasted it and an additional hour because of an unwise decision. Realizing I would be early for my AirBnB check-in time, I decided to walk around Union Station for 10 minutes. This deliberate delay would also give me enough time, once I got on the subway, to arrive at my rental, unpack, and head to Bloorcourt during the 2-hour window of my transit ticket.

Unfortunately, this plan fell apart because there was a mechanical problem on the Bloor line just as my subway train arrived at St. George Station. I then headed south to College to take a streetcar as an alternate route to my AirBnB. The ride across town to Coxwell and Gerrard was pleasant but lasted an hour because of rush-hour commuters including office workers and grade school students. Despite this extra detour, after I unpacked and cleaned up for my dental visit, I still made it to the subway with 5 minutes left on my transfer. So yay to dense urban development and efficient transit. But it meant that I had no time to shop at Dufferin Mall before my appointment.

It was a more pleasant cleaning than last time. I guess my usual 3 month visits were more effective than a typical 6-month cleaning. But given their price-gouging, I'll have to find another dentist once I no longer have work benefits. Once again, my post-visit dinner was at Pam's Roti. This time it was a spicy goat roti for $16.95. The worker there, who suffered from terrible vision problems, hadn't gotten their surgery yet. They were hopeful that the operation, originally scheduled for last December, will occur in 3-4 weeks. But they had to pay thousands of dollars to book an OR. I thought we had free healthcare in Ontario?

I walked around the old neighbourhood to see what's changed. Bloorcourt was chock-a-block with restaurants now. Mazz sushi was no more, replaced by a Mexican cantina. The short-lived Royal Comedy Theatre (once a bar then chicken joint) was back to being a restaurant. Gus Tacos opened a location on busy Bloor. But this one looked forgettable with its gleaming stainless steel kitchen and white tiles compared to the "corner taqueria" charm of its older sibling at Shanly and Gladstone. I was wrong about the construction at Dovercourt. They weren't keeping any of the old building as a facade; everything was a pile of rubble.

Noodling Around

I headed to the Byward Market to try some hand-pulled noodles at Le Mien. Generally I wasn't a fan of Chinese noodle shops as they tended to be a bit one note (mostly beef). Compare this to pho where you get fresh herbs and bean sprouts and ramen with wood-ear mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and various add-ons. Le Mien had a vegetarian item but my experience was that non-meat options at these places were wholly underwhelming (except for the flavourful bowl at defunct Landing Noodle in Toronto).

So I settled for a small beef noodle ($15.99) and a side-order of mushrooms and mixed vegetables ($6.49). I opted for a medium-sized, round strand while my dinner companions chose a thick, flat noodle. Mine turned out to be reasonably toothsome and so did theirs, though their flat noodle looked almost like lasagna with its large width. The beef and broth were decent though there were no greens in sight, not even the sprinkle of chopped parsley and green onion in the menu photo. I also enjoyed the enoki mushroom but sadly the veggies were also nowhere to be found. Overall, I will stick with pho and ramen.

My friends were late despite driving to the Market. I could excuse the harried parent because they had unexpected pick-up duties for their children. Like always, we shared a cheerful, funny vibe that made me regretted that until recently I lost touch with them for almost ten years. So I didn't retroactively minded their tardiness.

The couple were dinks (dual income no kids) who, in my opinion, should have been on time. They were one of my oldest friends but we have also rarely met in person over the last decade. Their spouse found most things unpleasant or at least will always lead first with a dismissive statement. I realized that, while talking to my friend's partner, that I should tone down my put-downs of Ottawa at least in real life.

There was almost nothing worthwhile in North American cities, according to this critic. This was an unfortunate attitude because if I needed some fun, I was only a few hours from Toronto or Montreal. But their idea of La Dolce Vita was thousands of kilometres away in Europe or Asia.

Dragon Age

Tet Nguyen Dan or the Lunar New Year arrived on Saturday. I headed over to my grandma for a visit and brought a special New Year's box of Asian-flavoured bonbon from Onyx Chocolate. I had ordered 3 ($30.88/box) for my grandma, my mom, and my sibling. With $25 shipping and tax, each box's cost was adding up. This was the sort of gift where you were vague about the price to blunt any familial concern about expense.

Unfortunately, I didn't meet my sibling at my grandma's as planned. They had to stay home to take care of their spouse because the latter had major surgery last week. Things went well but it turned out they needed some antibiotics for a possible infection. In any case, they will have to convalesce until mid-March.

Speaking of which, March was the due date for one of my cousin's second child. The baby's progress had no hiccups until early Saturday morning when he was born prematurely. So my latest nephew will have to spend time in the NICU. The parents were emotional with both happiness and worry.

My cousin who was planning to relocate to Calgary with their partner had volunteered for a lay-off package because of work stress. With six months of severance as buffer, they wanted to try being a waiter. I knew they were a serious amateur cook but restaurant work doesn't seem less stressful. Also, the pay would be significant less than for a Silicon Valley remote worker. Finally, there would be no opportunity to continue their digital nomad lifestyle. So I'm not sure how carefully they've thought this through.

So a day into the New Year has brought several life-changing events to my extended family. With my aunts heading to the old country this week, there might be even more news on the horizon.

Pay To Not Slay

The Lunar New Year Tet was fast approaching. One of the tradition was to pay your debts before year's end. I didn't owe anyone money but I finally got my finances in order as opposed to keeping my cash under a mattress. There was one item left: consolidating my emergency funds.

We Canadians feel smug about E-Transfer, a technology supported by all our banks, unlike the Americans who rely on private services such as PayPal or Venmo and physical transactions. But for larger sums, we were also stuck in the pen-and-paper era. So on Friday, I needed to go downtown to one bank, pay for a bank draft, then walk a block over to my other bank to deposit it. I didn't even have the satisfaction of receiving a stack of bills.

Afterwards, I went to The Byward Market for lunch. This was the only neighbourhood in Ottawa that had more than 2 blocks of businesses. But despite being an unseasonably warm day, there was hardly anyone around. I stepped inside India Cafe because the combination of prepared food and grocery shelves reminded me of bodegas like Latin World and Tierra Azteca. The menu photos didn't look promising but I finally settled on a plate of chana masala ($12.99).

The dish was a bust. Like other Indian places in Ottawa, they though that salad was a good substitute for flavourful South Asian side-dishes. The rest was simply a pile of chickpeas with a watery sauce on basmati rice. I thought about a typical veggie thali at Banjara in Toronto: papadam, rice, naan, pakora, 3 dishes and a rice pudding dessert. This bountiful meal was only $11.95 in 2021 (though inflation has increased it to $15.99). The quality was better a decade ago but it still outclassed the meal I had: cheaper, larger, better flavour. Whenever I break my promise of never dining out in Ottawa again, I am reminded why I should keep to my word.

Bonne Fete

On Sunday, I was invited to a birthday brunch. It wasn't actually for myself as most people don't know about it. My friend did a birthday dinner for a mutual friend back in November. Now, it was the latter's husband who was the recipient of a celebration.

Like last time, the generous appetizer spread of figs, charcuterie, cheese, and other small eats was enough. But there were also entrees of siu mai, chicken and potatoes, beans, and a beef bread lasagna. After a brief break, we had desserts of fresh longan, a fruit mix of pineapple, kiwis, and lychee, and a home-made Biscoff cheesecake.

Throughout the meal, the teenagers from both households were asked about their braces, schooling (math, science, art, drama), and after-school activities (speed skating, hockey, rugby, and so on). It was both timeless (this happened back in the day) but also modern (social media and smartphones). I had little to contribute because I had no progeny myself and as for my own childhood, I grew up poor and didn't experience any of those things. Even my high school offered nothing but the basics.

The family vacation tales were also a bit foreign to me. Cruise ships didn't sound appealing and neither did shopping in Japan. But there were some interesting stories: a French canal cruise on a small river barge and a 100 km excursion (up to Tombstone Provincial Park) on the majestic 740 km Dempster highway in the Yukon. I could see myself doing both, but while booking a slow cruise along an idyllic countryside is straightforward, the logistics of an Arctic car trip would be hard for non-driver like me to solve.

During my 2-hour commute home (public transit on Sunday in Ottawa is not for the weak), I thought about my own birthday celebrations. I prefer spending it alone and in fact, there has been only 1 communal one for myself. As a child, my family didn't have the money for them. As an adult, there were two on the same day during my last year in University. The lunch outing was among a small group of friends from my program and dinner was with a closer group that included my crush.

Both were rather awkward. At the Mexican cantina, I didn't know my lunch buddies very well except that we went to the same classes and worked together on group projects. The evening meal at a "gastro-pub" was fine but it wasn't the romantic dinner between 2 lovers of my fantasy. So obviously the actual reality could only be bittersweet and disappointing. Since then, I've rather been relieved that only my mom sends me a congratulatory email on my birthday. Thanks but no candles or bonhomie for me.

Why Are Thou Willie

The hibernating marmots were out on Friday to predict the weather. As for me, I usually celebrate Groundhog Day at a nice restaurant. That petered out during the pandemic years although I was in Toronto last year for a milestone birthday. I had planned on doing it again this year but canceled it since I will be in The Big Smoke at the end of February for a postponed concert. Two trips in the same month was too profligate because even a short visit of a few days can add up to almost a thousand dollars.

I was already heading to the St. Laurent and Montreal area to I print my bus tickets at the local library. So I decided to look for a spot for a mini-celebration. As the branch did not open until after lunch, I wandered down side-streets until I arrived at McArthur Ave. Before the strip malls decimated St. Laurent, these two roads must have had bustling storefronts. There were still a smattering of local businesses along the latter.

I stepped inside Stacked Smoked Meat and Grill expecting a venerable diner. Unfortunately, it was a new place exuding nondescript food vendor vibe complete with generic banquette seating, a few tables, and grey faux wood paneling. I ordered the Stacked combo ($18.95) comprising of an 8 oz sandwich, slaw, and fries. I turned down the free pop that came with the meal. It was a large lunch for the price; the limp pickle disappointed but the fries were hot from the fryer, the slaw was fresh, and the sandwich was stuffed to overflowing. The meat was average, resembling smooth bologna as opposed to the marbled and textured slices of high-quality Montreal smoked meat. But it was about what I expected so I was reasonably satisfied.

On my way back to the library, the sky was overcast. But I previously saw my shadow in the morning sunlight. So will there be an early Spring or not?

More Than Fifty Ways

I spent the week following Christmas cocooning thanks to both public holidays and paid time-off. With New Year's Eve on the last Sunday of 2023, there were likely parties and events in Ottawa. But to be honest, I rarely celebrated New Year's even in Toronto. It was thanks to streaming shows during the pandemic that I actually stayed up past midnight in the last few years.

The success of last year's combination of a live concert at History venue and streaming on Youtube convinced supergroup cover band Dwayne Gretzky to continue this tradition. So I settled to watch my 4th New Year Eve's stream even though I tapped out after midnight at the end of their 2nd set. I caught up with their final set the next morning.

For this year's concert, Dwayne's line-up grew to 17 members with the addition of a horn section. Their presence added a lot of oomph to the arrangements; Dwayne's version of You Can Call Me Al never sounded so good especially with Anh Phung's flute solo. With 13 years of existence, they also reached a milestone in their career. Midway through the 1st set, they played the 800th cover song in their repertoire: Tears For Fears' Head Over Heels. Song 801 came soon after with James Baley's spirited rendition of Love The One You're With.

Set two was also a lot of fun and ended on a high note with Meg Contini's How Will I Know and a full-band cover of Everybody (Backstreet's Back) complete with dance choreography. It was 12:30 am and I needed to call it a night. When I came back the next morning, someone in the chat had mentioned that set 3 was the best one yet. The final hour was wall-to-wall bangers: Jill Harris' impeccable German for 99 Nuftballoons, Lydia Persaud's assured Hold The Line, Contini's soaring Alone,  Carleigh Aikin's blistering Piece of My Heart, and Baley's joyful Freedom! 90.

Though Dwayne has always done "oldies", in the early days it was still a young crowd. But perhaps 13 years later, they have aged out with both Gen Z and the tail end of the Millennials cohort. I barely saw anyone under 40 in the crowd shots. In fact, many attendees were on the other side of the mid-century mark. It didn't help that Dwayne only played 2 songs released in the last 25 years: Backstreet's Back and The Darkness' I Believe In A Thing Called Love for the encore. Even an unhip grump like myself know that "modern music sucks" is a laughable attitude. As professional musicians, they'd probably feel the same but maybe they don't want to alienate their core demographics. Come on Dwayne Gretzky, it's not yet time to play on cruise ships!