Lamb Shank Redemption

On Sunday, my ability to get a final meal from Chef Saha at BHK Roll hit several snags. I first headed there for lunch but the subway was out-of-commission again. Another signal upgrade from Jane to Ossington would not have affected me. Yet when I got to the station, a train with un-cooperative doors at Ossington itself had extended the shutdown to all stations. I spent 10 minutes waiting for a bus to take me to Wellesley station. This alternate route would leave me 1 stop from my destination.

But since it didn't arrive promptly, I stayed in the neighbourhood and went to Hana Sushi instead. I sat between some elderly folks: one was having lunch with her daughter and grandkids, the other was a couple of old friends going to see "talkies" (i.e., classic movies) at The Paradise. It was interesting to watch people who were not exposed to non-mainstream cuisine during their early adulthood. The grandma had never even tried edomame. It wasn't surprising that they all ordered bento boxes; tempura pieces and chicken teriyaki were familiar enough to other food to not be scary. My own sushi combo ($18) included 8 nigiri pieces and california rolls. I previously liked the veggie combo but forgot from my first visit that the fish were rather bland here. Or maybe like my grandma, my taste buds have dulled as I've gotten older.

For dinner, I tried the subway again. It was slower than usual since the trains had to unload passengers at Ossington and then reverse to head back the other way. When I got to BHK Roll, there were 2 minor problems. First, their internet was out so it was cash or e-transfer. Second, the roti option wasn't available tonight. I chose the Gosht Nizami ($24) and got 2 more surprises. The basmati rice was actually biriyani and the lamb was still on the bone. The meal was quite rich and tasty but the meat, while tender, was gamier than last time. Also, using food-court utensils to cut the meat, and with the whole thing inside a cardboard take-out container, was an exercise in "move very slowly and carefully".

Chimerical

On Saturday, I found conclusive proof that the unhoused person who owned the shopping carts was still around. During the day, I went to the library at Gladstone to look at some newspaper. I was, once again, almost certain that a woman sleeping inside was her. Unlike the male indigents in the neighbourhood, she kept her hair clean and her clothes neat. So there were no obvious markers of homelessness. In the late evening, the shopping carts were finally moved. They were blocking the doorway to a store, providing some measure of privacy, while she laid in a sleeping bag behind them. It did meant that throughout the winter months since January when they were stuck in the snowdrift, she wasn't using them.

Lunch was a mixture of veggies from No Frills, fried rice from South Pacific, spicy potatoes (they were correctly described as shredded potato, but stir-fried and then cool down) from Szechuan Noodle Bowl, and a cinnamon donut from Better Days. On my way to the library, I had seen some runners finished off their run by visiting the shop. Bloor had even more runners, though not quite in the obnoxious packs I have seen in online videos.

At night I visited The Burdock, a venue I haven't gone to during my sublet. Doors at 8:30 pm suggested a late show, but the first band started promptly at 9 pm. Bitchstick's members were definitely young, if not high-school teenagers, then not far from it. Or maybe everybody under 30 look like babies to me now. Their fans were split between equally young friends and some family members. I didn't mind as much as other "family shows" because one, they were just starting their musical career, and two, they played music that sounded fresh and contemporary.

I came because my online curiosity was pique by the band called Monstrosa. They turned out to be primarily women except for the drummer. The members wore Lucha Libra mask, Halloween demon mask, or what looked like a welding mask brightly painted and decorated with plastic monster fangs. Meanwhile, Pryce and her back-up singer were glammed up with glittery make-up and clubby clothes.

I have opined about liking danceable music. It seems I also like songs with furious drumming, chugging chords, and riff-heavy runs (oh, so many riffs). It was wall-to-wall bangers including a rocking cover of Blondie's Call Me. Debbie Harry was an inspiration because she didn't achieve success until she was 30. This was a good reminder for Pryce as a counteract to a youth-obsessed scene (Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish). Well, I hoped that Monstrosa get some traction because to be both lead singer and guitarist, Pryce had the musical chops. The rest of the band was equally energetic. If Arenas played a $30 set for a $20 show, Monstrosa gave us a $40 act for $10 cover. It was too bad there was no merch for sale.

I was feeling the effects of late nights (for me) and stressful days. So I headed back home instead of staying for another rock band going by the moniker of Nameless Friends.

A-fun-cular

When I missed lunch by 2.5 hours because of a work meeting, I wasn't going to let it happen again on Friday. So I took advantage of the sunshine to head to No Frills at noon for a few basic items like fruit and oat milk to tie me over until my departure. I stopped by Szechuan Noodle Bowl to try more of their non-noodle dishes. This time it was cumin-spiced cauliflower ($15.49) and hot-and-sour shredded potatoes ($9.49). The portion sizes were huge and even two people could not finish them. Both dishes were delicious though I wonder if there was an error in translation. The potatoes tasted like some sort of raw root vegetable. Either that or they have perfected a way to prepare crunchy raw taters. When the waiter helped me collect the leftovers into take-out containers (more than enough for 3 more meals), they mentioned that I was like an older relative to them. Oof! It's still hard to contemplate that I was a "historical figure" to the younger generation.

Later on that evening, I wasn't the oldest at The Baby G but I wasn't far off. I was mostly there for Tange, whom Little Junior joked lovingly as a "Toronto legend". Certainly they was the most successful, not the trio itself, but the career of the individual members: Deanna Petcoff, Sabrina Carrizo Sztainbok, and Luna Li. Sadly, the latter was not present tonight and Tange had a substitute drummer. Perhaps she had other commitments or now that she can fill Danforth Music Hall, Li no longer wanted to play dinky venues per her Mod Club show.

Being more or less a side project, Tange has only put out a handful of songs in 10 years. But tonight we were treated to several new numbers. They had a cool vibe and combined elements of pop (without sounding dated) with atmospheric garage. The songs were fun and approached well-worn tropes in a novel way: a song about relationship commitment meant getting the smartphone password. Deanna and Sabrina's vocals blended well, were usually understated, but sometimes were let loosed with Evanescence-esque power.

The fun continued with Little Junior. They were an energetic four piece, somewhere between Weezer and Green Day. I couldn't quite sussed what they were singing about through my earplugs, but the music was catchy and danceable. I was going to duck out but gave headliner Arenas a chance at a few songs. The drummer/singer quipped that they wanted to give a $30 performance for a $20 show. They delivered on that promise and I ended up staying for their entire set. It was as if early David Byrne met a muscular psych rock outfit: slinky bass, propulsive drums, and odd chords and riffs.

Winding Down

The last few days felt like a redux of my final weeks in Toronto back in 2021. But this time, I kept it local to just my neighbourhood. On Tuesday, I made an effort to look for the owner of the abandoned shopping carts. It's hard to recognize someone who, to be honest, was in the background as you walk by over the years. But I was 90 percent sure that the woman sleeping in the lobby of a bank was her. I originally wanted another "calzone" from 241 Pizza for dinner, but the main proprietor wasn't working. Sure enough, my go-to option the veggie slice ($5.50) wasn't quite as good as usual.

Still feeling peckish, I walked East looking for dessert but bakeries have closed at 5. I stepped inside Banquet Burger at Delaware and ordered regular fries ($4.99).  The fries came in a larger portion than a fast-food joint and satisfied my carb craving. At first, I thought it was a replacement of a previous burger joint (that my friend and I visited once) which was itself a follow-up to Fancy Franks. But it was simply a signage change and a menu switch from regular to smash burgers. Still, I hate when a property becomes a restaurant because it will never be another business again. Restaurant rows, like the Ossington Strip, were the worse sort of gentrification despite their lively night-time vibe.

On Wednesday, I was back at Delaware for a veggie plate ($14.99) from Laziza. I usually have these to go, but with the craziness from work, I needed to take a mid-day break outside of my sublet. I recognized my server who was the sort that didn't overfill my container. But he gave everyone a small lentil soup which was a nice, warming side. I can't complain too much since there was still enough left-over for lunch the next day.

In fact, I was inside all of Thursday. My boss, stressing about the upcoming deadline, kept me in a meeting that lasted from 11:30 am until 2:30 pm. The sunshine became a continuous drizzle well into the evening. My final dinner from South Pacific was both a mistake and completely appropriate. I thought I was getting a combo with mixed veggies with shrimp and fried rice. It turned out to be all fried batter: spring rolls, sweet and sour chicken balls, and also sweet and sour shrimp. It was the quintessential "take-out food" and quite addictive. So I made an effort to leave most of the fried rice for another day.

Tragedy Plus Time

I haven't been to Comedy Bar in 6 years though I was a frequent visitor when they first opened. On Monday night, I dropped by for an 8 pm show in the smaller cabaret room. The venue was relatively empty but was packed for the later shows. Mine was a Just For Laughs showcase: ostensibly each comic had 6 minutes for their best material. The prize: possible inclusion in the real festival but I wasn't convinced there were any actual judges in the crowd. The downside: 10 performers in about 80 minutes. The upside: if you don't like some material or if they weren't connecting, another would be on soon.

Almost half the comics were POCs so there were plenty of "we're like this, they're like that" jokes. Most didn't work for me except for the two Black comedians. One riffed on dating the "wrong kind" of white man (Ivan not Evan) but still getting some privilege (living for free in his parent's spare house). The other related the travails of having a philandering Jamaican dad and opening for R'n'B act dvsn. The final comic also got huge laughs for his Chinese-related jokes. Asians will eat anything was a little too close to a stereotype. But his extended riff on Chinese New Year being a "bullshit holiday" because every Zodiac animal had to "work hard" was gold.

The other comedians mined their own shortcomings. One detailed his hair transplant (via Turkey) experience and being a tourist queer (i.e., "gay when high"). Another talked about being vanilla sexually in a world of people with exciting kinks (turns out he wasn't that vanilla). One stand-up quipped that a comedy show was the ideal date because you look good compared to all the losers on stage. Certainly, several performers turned their personal or family trauma into punchlines.

I'm more of a smiler and the Netflix shows I've watched haven't generated much physical reaction from me. So I was concerned when the stagehand gave me a table at the front (the perils of showing up early). But I was surprised that I was in stitches and laughing out loud several times.

Memento Mori

Memorials to someone's passing are found, temporarily or otherwise, throughout my old neighbourhood. Dufferin Grove contains trees planted with dedications to loved one and an entire walking path (for a bicycle accident victim) dotted with reflexology stones. More sadly, a ghost bike also commemorated another bicycle victim who was hit by a truck. The local community also wrote a tribute when Mr. Siddiqi of Vena's Roti died over the Holidays. During my sublet, a long-time Portuguese Bar (Bloor Bar Cafe/Billiard) was closed because the owner passed away at a young 62. His family kept a photo and an obituary in the window.

On Sunday, when I went to the library at Dufferin and Bloor, I was reminded that not all memorials come from the living. Unfortunately, some are the forgotten relics of a quiet life. There have been numerous unhouse folks in the neighbour over the years. Some come and go such as the homeless encampments or visitors to the women's shelter Sistering. Others stay around for years like the old panhandler who wished everyone a happy life.

There was a woman, in her late 50s or early 60s, who hung around that corner. She never asked for change or talked very much. She did accumulate thing over the years until it grew to 2 shopping carts full of stuff. But they were neatly packed and tied down with plastic tarps. After my arrival in early January, when I saw them alone on the sidewalk, I was worried. But I thought (half-heartedly) that, with the snow and ice frozen solid around the carts, she was still nearby and that it was more convenient to leave them there. After all, many people left their parked cars buried in the snow for weeks this winter.

But the snow has finally melted for good for several days. So when I saw that the carts haven't moved, I felt sad. I'm hoping she is somewhere safer, perhaps living in a permanent home, and had already taken personal items with her. But those carts may be the last reminder of someone who left this world unnoticed and unmourned.

29/03/2026: I was being a bit melodramatic because the owner was still hanging around the neighbourhood. It wasn't great that she lived on the streets but at least things haven't worsened.

No One Is Watching

On Saturday, I headed back to Geary for Gaucho Pies as it has been awhile. One problem was that the store was opened only 3 days a week for retail, the rest of the time they made empanadas to sell wholesale. They now have a store-front so I no longer had to walk down an industrial hallway. I selected spinach/ricotta ($4) and roasted mushroom ($4). There was no place to eat outside because the planters and benches near Knockout Ice Cream were gone and apparently, so has Knockout. It was now Good Behaviour, a custard ice cream and submarine sandwich shop. But it was less than 5 minutes back to my sublet. The empanadas were still warm and packed with flavour. The only downside: they were on the small side which wasn't so bad when they only cost $2.75.

I spent the afternoon watching shows on Amazon Prime. Though I leave the apartment more than back in Ottawa, after the last few days of cloudy skies, you don't want to go anywhere. Since I couldn't get my thali dinner on Friday, I walked to Lansdowne to get some from Dosa Mahal. As I approached the intersection, I noticed a long line across the street. Was it Record Store Day and people were waiting to get in Dead Dog Records? Nope, they were putting their names on a waitlist for either Sugo or its offshoot "Bar Sugo" (once The Emerson and Caribbean Queen's original spot). At a corner, two young women expressed dismay that people from other parts of Toronto were ruining their local spot because of trendiness. I chuckled to myself that gentrifiers were complaining about other gentrifiers, especially over such a mediocre joint. But Sugo has been here for almost 10 years now, in another decade it will be considered an OG.

The vegan thali ($14.99) was essentially Mahal's tiffin box (2 curries + rice) with an additional curry, 2 soups (daal and sambar), a small naan, and a few sides (papadam, pickles, chutney or yogurt). Was it worth the extra $4? Sort of. The soups were the best upgrade: rich and flavourful. The curries here have always been good but not great. The naan was tasty enough but lacked the fragrance and chew of a tandoori-baked one. It was a good, filling meal (with masala chai for $2.50) but a couple of bucks off would be ideal.

After walking for about a block, I decided to take transit ($3.20) back home. It was only 2 subway stops and a quick ride by bus. But I felt that given the longer walking distance and my intestinal sensations, it wasn't a leisurely stroll kind of evening. I was probably right as I felt gassy all night and the next morning's bathroom visit was fuller than usual.

This bloating also prevented my first ever visit to Dovercourt House. With two left feet, I never went inside this venerable building bustling with dance classes and late-night dancing. But there was a special event on Saturday: a showing of Tango Malhar. This new South Asian film a la Shall We Dance? starred a poor rickshaw driver instead of an older Japanese salaryman. Then after a professional demonstration, there would follow several hours of milonga or impromptu partner dances. The film and showcase seemed up my alley and maybe I would even watch the dancing for a bit. But it wasn't just about my questionable innards tonight; I was afraid that I might need nice clothes and dress shoes. And the more I dug into the sponsor of the event, the more it seemed like a vanity show.

Happy To See Me Emoji

On Friday my boss threatened that we might have to work on the week-end. Some people had actually put in extra hour on Thursday's night when I was at the Lula Lounge for a show. Ultimatums don't work on me at my age but I did have a quick lunch with leftovers from South Pacific. In the afternoon, my friend dropped by not so much for a visit but to exchange pots. Their partner had installed a new induction stove-top at their house and their cookware didn't work. Luckily, the ones here were magnetic and were compatible. I pointed a few problems I noticed: mold in the washer (I use the laundromat next door) and some minor water issue at the back of the loft. But they already knew of these issues. The succulent by the front door, which had sprouted a long stem, wasn't thriving more than usual due to my careful watering. In fact, it pushed out this flower stalk every spring; my friend usually just lopped it off.

I finally found time in the early evening to re-stock the fridge for my final week at my sublet. Recalling that the excellent Chakna offered thali options for around $15, I dropped by the street-food spot. But these dishes were unavailable because either they weren't offered during busy hours or never as dine-in items (there was some communication issues). So I crossed to the other side for Szechuan Noodle Bowl.

Last time I was here, I grew tired of noodles by the end of my meal as I had eaten them on different visits. Some other diners chose non-noodle dishes but I was reluctant as they were more expensive and clearly meant to be shared family-style. This time I opted for braised eggplant ($14.49), enoki mushroom with chili ($8.99), and rice ($2.50). Both dishes were excellent: the eggplant was flavourful and tender. I'm sure each slice was soaked in oil but they didn't have that overly rich mouth-feel. Note that like dishes for numerous Chinese restaurants, its' seemingly vegetarian-friendly description omitted the ground pork in the sauce. The mushroom, as a cold dish, had a surprisingly toothsome chew. The only misstep was the rice: clumpy and almost too dry. Unlike the semi-regular I had seen from before, I took all the leftovers home.

Smooth Groove

I was in Ottawa for a few days from Saturday onward. With its freezing rain and fresh snow, it was still a winter wonderland. But that came at the cost of the LRT out of commission again so it was a trek getting home via bus. I was happy to stay inside to continue with the fire-fighting at work. Back in Toronto on Thursday, I decided to attend a show at the Wavelength festival. It was going to be noisy at St. Anne's Parish so I selected Lula Lounge, an odd location for the indie organization. The evening turned out to be on the more easy listening end of the scene.

Lula occasionally turns into a proper concert venue, but it was usually a supper club, and that was the case for this show. The good: a big venue with good sound and lighting. The bad: nobody was up near the stage, you were either sitting down at the tables or standing awkwardly at the back. I usually avoid these venues (The Rex, etc.) because you have to pay extra (in the form of food) for a table. But if I had known that for this show you could buy a ticket or just get a table, I would have put the $34.75 toward a meal and gotten a free concert.

P.S. Lucas came from Portugal (Wavelength's attempt this year to go non-local) and his playing was an updated version of a traditional style. But I don't know much Portuguese music other than fado so his shimmering picking reminded me of Spanish guitar like flamenco. He sang in English and Portuguese (though unlikely many in the audience were locals in what was once Little Portugal). The lyrics were poetic and sometimes took inspiration from Portuguese idioms. The song In Between was inspired by entre a espada e a parede (between the sword and the wall). I enjoyed the short set with his skillful guitar playing.

In fact, a nice surprise tonight were both shorter sets and quicker set-ups. I was worried that, with 4 bands on the bill, the evening was going to drag out. Daniel Colussi (Fortunato Durutti Marinetti) played the most appropriate music for the venue. It was catchy but very Copa Cabana. Still, his David Byrne style and interesting songs (Coke vs. Pepsi, The Bulldozer) was Blimp Rock redux and the romantic Hold On To The Dawn had the earnestness of Luka.

Dan English was an Iowan by way of Brooklyn. His set was a less languid Lana del Rey full of yearning. As it was his first show in Canada, Caitlin Woelfle-O'brien hooked him up with 2 local musicians. The trio played a nice set of contemplative art-rock. It was also English's first time in a supper club, but some joined in on his cover of Perfect Day (Lou Reed). Two fans even came up to chit-chat afterwards.

Tara Kannagara was ostensibly the head-liner. But by this time, the venue was mostly empty with the departure of the dinner crowd. Like all the performers tonight, she was mostly showcasing new material. So Kannagara was just happy to play live music with her band. The new songs seemed like a departure from her current output of indie with a splash of "prog jazz". They were Laufey-esque balladry meet R'n'B influenced synth-pop: head-bopping beats, wobbly synth, and pure vocals soaring over it all. There were some outstanding gems in the new stuff.

Wuthering Heights

Having met our deadline, our boss gave the go-ahead to take advantage of our new company's policy and take the 2nd Friday of each month off. Since I was going on a short trip back to Ottawa, I did my laundry in the early morning instead of waiting until Sunday. The forecast called for a final winter blast and it arrived around 11 am. As I returned from Progress Bakery with cod patties for lunch, I ran into my neighbour diligently clearing out the wet snow. A quick conversation revealed that he lived in the Yonge and Finch area. No one was living in his units yet because the building was in bad-shape when he bought it 3 years ago.

In the evening, I went to 241 pizza not for my usual slice but to order a 3-topping panzerotti. The price has increased to $11.99 from about $7 a while back. The panzerotti was a corporate branding because they didn't deep-fry it like the real one; this was closer to a calzone. Nevertheless, I've enjoyed it over the years and tonight's combination of baked dough, gooey cheese, olives, hot pepper, and pineapple still hit the spot.

Looking for an activity to do, I came across a concert at Lee's Palace. I recalled from a few days ago that on non-quite-yet gentrified Geary, the light-poles were plastered with posters; something that has disappeared from Little Italy and Queen St. West. This concert was among those street ads. Online, the $25 price has morphed into $27.50 with a $10 fee. I thought I might avoid the price-gouging by buying at the door. No such luck as they simply fired up their tablet and charged me the same $37.40.

It felt more like a concert than the last few shows: people lining up early for merch, and an actual music sub-culture scene. Early on, whether goth or emo, there were numerous kids in elaborate black clothes with heavily-drawn white make-up. But the bulk turned out to be regular folks (although still mostly wearing black) and a surprisingly number of people over 40. Have these bands been around a long time?

The first opener, and my favourite for the night, was Modele. A four-piece that reminded me of Depeche Mode with their combination of synth, tight drumming, and punctuated by catchy riffs. The singer, who towered over his bandmates, sang dramatic lyrics (You Are My Sin, Pleasure For The Holy) in a deep register while his guitarist harmonized in a higher voice. They got my $55 for a tee and the album. Automelodie has been around for over 20 years under various monikers. I liked that the Euro synthpop was controlled with several samplers and pads instead of just a bunch of tracks on a MacBook. But there were two downsides: the French lyrics were lost on the Toronto crowd, and though he was quite energetic, Xavier Paradis seemed a bit awkward on-stage. During the set, I thought that a performer like Regina Gently could sell this music better.

Traitrs formed around 2015, yet as a testament to the diversity of Toronto's scenes, I have never encountered them until Friday. When the duo stepped on stage and the singer/guitarist lamented in the upper register, I immediately thought of The Cure. Over the course of several songs, they did stayed in that melancholic, thumpy vibe. I left about half-way through the set since I had an early bus to catch but also because they weren't as inventive (musically and in terms of stage-presence) as the openers.

Hen & Teeth

Things were looking better for work on Friday, but I still had to eat lunch at home due to an overly long meeting. In the afternoon, I headed over to see my dentist. Over the years, I have seen assistants but they never seemed to be there for more than a few months. Either he doesn't pay adequately or they were interns or on co-op/training. This one turned out to be a hygienist and after a quick glance at my mouth asked me how many times I brush and floss daily. I haven't gotten a cleaning from one since before the pandemic at my old dentist's office. On the one hand, they actually spent the full 45 minutes for the 3 scaling units instead of billing the same amount for 10 minutes. On the other hand, while they worked, I thought: I wasn't doing a good enough job at home; my dentist was more efficient from experience; or my dentist was less diligent than he should. Probably some combination of all three. Having been asked similar questions before, maybe I should snark that I only brush weekly since (apparently from the state of my teeth) they don't believe that I visit the dentist 4 times a year and brush/floss 4 times a day.

Usually after these visits, I drop by Pam's Roti. So despite the lunch kerfuffle 7 weeks ago, I went there for a chicken roti ($16.95). The roti was still good with an excellent chew and fragrance. There seemed to be less chicken though. The server with vision problems (but better since their operation) wasn't around. I thought of them because during the pub hang on Tuesday, I found out that several old and new co-workers also had issues that require eye surgery.

With more winter in the forecast, and a biting wind during my outings, I spent the evening looking for sublets once again but on craigslist instead of kijiji. I found an ad from the landlord/tenant of my first sublet but it was for the apartment downstair. Either they had changed apartment or the other long-time renters has moved out. But $2150 was more than my limit and with a move-in date of March 8 (or ASAP), it didn't align with my current sublet which lasts until the end of March.

Work/Life

The craziness at work continued on Monday though there was some (obstructed) light at the end of the tunnel. I wasn't happy that the hour I had set aside on Saturday to answer pleas from a coworker went to waste. After my reply, they had dashed off an untested solution full of errors. I heard they relied on AI but whether natural or digital, laziness ruled the day. So we were not ahead for the Tuesday deadline.

In the early evening, I caught a few last rays of sunshine and headed to my friend's restaurant. They were entertaining a guest so I exchanged some pleasantries and sat by myself with a veggie platter ($18). They asked about my family and I related that during my usual weekly talk with my mom, she had forgotten that it was Sunday. Getting a day mixed up was alright but not if it happened twice in an hour; my grandma didn't suffer this until her 90s. On their side, they were postponing their painkiller injection for physical therapy. Six sessions in, perhaps there was some improvement, but I saw that they were still limping when serving customers. On my way out, I replayed our brief chat and puzzled over some statement regarding the photos we took at our sushi lunch. I sure hope they weren't hinting at playing matchmaker, because with one foot already in the grave, I don't need any personal drama.

I was in the office on Tuesday because we had HR visitors from our new American owner. After months of research, they presented us with plans for merging our respective packages: primarily benefits and other perks. We were switching over to "unlimited" PTO, though unlike the U.S., there were minimum amounts required by law. Since this guaranteed less days than my old contract, I'm skeptical I will take even the same number of days as before, let alone see an increase. The health benefits and insurance were better than our plans and included reimbursement for gym memberships and internet services. The biggest add-on was RSP matching up to a combined 9%. Since I already had a financial advisor, I didn't love that I would have to contribute to funds managed by another company. But it is free money on the table.

Breakfast (bagels, croissants) and lunch (salad, deli sandwiches, wraps) were provided though there were lots of leftover. At 4:30, we went to a nearby pub, where we co-workers often had lunch outings before the pandemic. Over beer and bar food, we did a bit of social bonding. Some had visited Quebec for mountain biking and whale watching. Others were in Canada or Toronto for the first time. It was a nice enough get-together though we would likely never see each other again since there were few reasons for HR to visit an office of mostly remote workers.

Light Bearer

On Sunday, I went up to Geary not really to take part in the Art Crawl but just to see what's happening. Sure enough, there were local businesses and one-off vendors selling trinkets, thrifted clothes, art pieces, and street food. Some pedestrians were new visitors, who found that Geary was perhaps still too industrial, and were glad to step into Jen Agg's new it spot called General Public. The rest looked like young folks and families with babies who settled in the neighbourhood in the last 6-7 years. I didn't see too many OGs walking around.

The section of Geary west of Dufferin had a scruffier feel though galleries and bookstores have moved in. The location of Long Winter's concert venue was at Geary Factory Lofts, which were selling office workspaces and not residential units. During the pandemic, it was an empty building with ghost kitchen trailers in the back making Wendy's and other restaurant orders. It will have newer neighbours soon as the empty lot next to The Brick had construction signs.

But I was here for Morning Star, an old-time Portuguese restaurant I spotted during my pandemic morning runs. Stepping inside, this was a step down from Porto Nova. Yes, there was a dining room but everyone congregated in the room containing the TV showing soccer. If locals came to Porto for slightly upscale Portuguese food, here it was entirely (older) men who came for the pre-made takeout (usually pork, rice, and fries) or to drink coffee and watched sports. I've always wondered whether the guys at these spots were bachelors or married men.

I got a bitoque ($25) and some bottled water ($2). The steak and eggs reminded me of the Francesinha from Porto. The meat wasn't as good but it was much tastier and cheaper than Ottawa fare. The fries were pale and could use more time in the deep-fryer. I was surprised that the water came from Portugal; local spring water would have been fine. I actually just wanted tap water but there was a language barrier. Along with the complementary olives and bread, this was a filling lunch. Despite the price increase (the menu had new prices taped over the original values), $27 all in was decent for this type of meal.

Though I came home to relax, I went out again later on because the bright sunshine and mild weather was too nice. I made a 1 hour loop simply to print out some bus tickets at the library. Pedestrians, shoppers, and cruising cars were out in full force. With the snow gone from the backyard, I gingerly ascended some steep stairs up onto the roof of my sublet. My friend had built a simple wooden deck on top of the building. Although clearing out the dust would be a chore, this space would make for some enjoyable yoga practice.

Loop De Loop

The drama at work continued on Friday with the first deadline. But things looked promising as positive results came in over the chat channel. Most meetings became optional and I took the opportunity to duck out at lunch to do some groceries and grab a slice ($5.50) from 241 Pizza. The purchases weren't for myself but to restock some household items left by my friend. At the pizzeria, I found out from the long-time owner that they had to pay out of pocket for upgrade directives from corporate, sometimes at elevated prices like $4K for the new LCD menu displays. A window washer struck up a conversation with me. This was the sort of privileged old men I try to avoid. In his case, he was blocking the side-street with his truck and bragging about his American Pit Bull (a banned breed). When 5 pm rolled around, I left a co-worker on read while I ordered from South Pacific. I wasn't going to work extra hours for someone else's problems.

Saturday promised rain all afternoon so I headed to Dufferin Mall for more re-stocking. I went to Le's Sandwich on College St. but the owner no longer carried the vegetarian version of common Vietnamese dishes. I was reminded again of the passage of time when I was told that her daughter, who had just started university only "a few years ago" in my mind, was now a new mother with a remote job for an Ottawa company. The owner looked relatively spry with coloured hair. I wondered how I came across with my white mop (and lack of good sleep)? I ended up getting a veggie banh mi ($6) and a meat bao ($4). The first was eaten on a wooden bench at College and Dovercourt, site of many previous meals. The latter was re-heated at home once I got back. I finally looked at the chat messages and wrote back some obvious answers.

In 2021, with the ongoing gentrification of Geary, there was now an Art Crawl. This year, they also teamed up with Long Winter to host a concert. But the latter has lost much appeal for me, whether because I was getting old, or they have devolved into irrelevancy. Certainly the scope of their shows have diminished. I stayed home to watch a movie on Netflix instead. Unfortunately, I was bamboozled by an online review because War Machine was no different than any other army-approved Hollywood flick. This U.S. military glorification was not to my taste given the current situation in Iran.

Pizzacato

Thursday had more work craziness. Someone wanted to add last-minute changes to a spec. This might get push back from other teams. But once again, not my monkeys, not my circus. In the evening, I was heading again to Dina's Tavern for a show. It also meant I could get a Fresca pizza slice that I had planned for last Saturday. I don't normally mix dinner-and-a-show but what's life without some risk?

Fresca was the busiest I've seen despite the wet weather. People were waiting for pizzas or slices to-go while others ate inside the packed diner. The demographic spanned age ranges and ethnicities: a true diverse slice of Toronto if you will. There were uncooked pizzas laid out all along the counter-top, and even next to the sink, waiting for their turn because the oven was full. I counted the empty trays that held about 8-12 pizza dough per tray, and realized Fresca had made more than 150 pizzas in the last hour or so. I got a chance to talk to the owners. The wife lamented that despite their busyness, profit wasn't keeping pace. Maybe that was why I saw a sign stating that prices will increase soon. The husband just grunted and kept making pizza, even though his shift was over. The daughter, officially the new proprietor, was there tonight making sandwiches and pasta in the back kitchen. Some of the young workers who were relatives on a tourist visa will head back to Vietnam in April. I waited about 20 minutes for my fresh Margherita slice ($5) but the show wasn't scheduled until 8 pm. The wife side-eyed me when she heard about my plans. So I had to explain that I wasn't going to the notorious Comfort Zone (which has moved to Queen and Lansdowne) but rather the re-built Silver Dollar.

The show didn't actually start until 8:30 with Picastro. They (or the lead singer) have been around for 30 years but this incarnation was a duo. I enjoyed the double bassist with his various techniques: plucking, bowing, and even some looping through pedals. The singer supplemented with guitar, occasional samples, and synth on a few songs. But their singing was, in the words of a wise man, pitchy.

Merival bowed out of a concert a few years back so I haven't heard them since 2018. During their set, they admitted they don't play that often anymore nor have written (complete) songs in a while so there was only 1 "new" number tonight. I have found in the past that their music usually felt disjointed or incomplete because of the odd chords or progression. It was good tonight because Merival's guitar technique has improved tremendously. This added interesting dynamics and layers to the songs. Also, I felt that their strong voice with a nice range was also a new addition.

Most of the crowd, which varied in age if not in complexion, weren't there for either singers. I'm too frugal to hang-out at a bar that has a cover charge. But they were respectful during each set. I chatted briefly with 2 older men who knew the opening act. That's how I learned about Picastro's longevity and line-up changes. One was a sci-fi novelist while the other did abstract art but was getting back to his cartooning roots. They had memories of Silver Dollar and Comfort Zone that predated my arrival in Toronto.

Killing Me Softly With Their Wrongs

Tuesday and Wednesday were in full panic from my team due to a slipping work deadline. Not me though because I have done my part. Still, I was pulled into various meetings and have to sit through second guessing and passive-aggressive blame games. It also meant that my personal plans fell through. For both days, I only had time to go out for dinner.

On Tuesday, I was hankering for some cheap eats. I had soured on Pam's Roti since the lunch debacle. But then I remembered that Dosa Mahal also offered reasonable-priced snacks. Also, I haven't visited the Bloor and Lansdowne area since my sublet. The 40-minute loop gave me a chance to clear my head. I ran into an elderly indigent who wished me a happy life, like our previous encounters over the years. But this time, they added "instead of like me because you are smart". I guess a life of precarity eventually kills even a sunny disposition. I gave more than usual as I haven't seen them much since I moved back to Ottawa. Dinner was left-over rice with samosas (5 for $4.99) from Mahal and a beef patty ($4.50) from Caribbean Queen of Patties as appetizers.

It was even later on Wednesday, a whole day of sunshine missed, that I went to La Mexicana (Sabor A Patria) for dinner. This new spot took over from Mazz Sushi but it never seemed as busy as other Hispanic restaurants in the neighbourhood. They had removed the partitions that enclosed the private "tatami room" so the space felt more spacious. On to the good and the bad of La Mexicana. Good stuff included larger selection of tacos including items like tripe and sesos (beef brain) and tonight was 3 for 2 deal (not as good as Pastorcito but that was almost too much). But the bad was that instead having your own sides, you have to bring your tacos to a buffet-style set up for additional ingredients like onions, cilantro, and various chili sauces.

Because of the deal, I ordered 2 Pollo ($6) and 1 Pescado ($7) taco. Again, with the savings I also got a "Jamaica" drink ($5.50). I liked the first two with the soft and tender pieces of chicken. The breaded fish was also good although it could use better seasoning. Its bed of lettuce with a yellow dressing was a miss for me. The hibiscus drink was less sweet than a horchata, but I wouldn't order it again. A long time ago, I had a tropical concoction from a Jamaican Bar (now Boom Breakfast). I have never been able to find it again and a "Jamaica" in a Mexican cantina wasn't it either. Unfortunately, La Mexicana has some stiff competition so unless you were looking for a specific taco, it wouldn't be first choice.

In between those tensed meetings (where it was decided to create "phased" deadlines with the first being Friday), I played around with the numbers on a retirement tool. If I trusted the projections (within reason given our increasingly crazy world), I could pull the trigger as early as next year.

March Slav

I usually do my laundry early enough that no one is there though near the end, some people might come in. This was no different on Sunday as a couple arrived as I was folding my clothes. With his partner on the wooden bench checking her phone, the guy took out a medium format camera and surreptitiously clicked few shots through a washer's round window. The era of the hipster was at least 15 years ago and he'll have to grow better facial hair.

I stuck close to home, with food from Progress Bakery and South Pacific, for few hours of work to meet a work deadline. In the late afternoon, I received news that our new team lead had resigned 2 months in. Their 2 weeks notice was cut short because my boss was already fed up with the lack of leadership. So no point in dragging out the situation. I also reached out to an ex-coworker who had pinged me about a concert last week. But our conversation always covered the same ground: missing out on the real-estate market, being stuck in an old building (made worse because they never reported some flooding they had caused). I was a bit concerned that pining for their youthful days has led them to hang out with teenage children of friends.

Monday was in full fire-fighting mode. I finally looked at some of the other people's progress. The problem was nobody wanted to do grunt-work, only the shiny new stuff. So now all the missing scaffolding was discovered. After I wrapped up my work, I wanted to head out to de-stress. The Indian restaurant from Friday (Chakna/Desi Junction) was hosting a show called Naan Sense Comedy. I didn't mind the cover charge ("free" but you had to order a drink or some food). But it wasn't a big room and sharing a table with strangers didn't appeal. I didn't usually eat at comedy shows so I had a flashback to a dinner-and-a-show at Yuk-Yuk's in Ottawa with my crush. In the bad old days, comedians could make "they're eating the cats, they're eating the dogs" jokes and you had to be a good sport about it.

Saturday Evening Post

Early Saturday morning, I went for a run around the neighbourhood. With deep freezes or crazy snowstorms, it hasn't been good jogging weather. I still needed my toque but a light jacket was sufficient. Though I have been practicing yoga daily I haven't done much cardio so I limited my circuit to only about half my usual distance. At Dupont and Dufferin, a new condo made me wonder: wasn't it already 90% done 2 years ago? I only realized a few blocks later that this was yet another condo. The other one was already occupied with Tim Hortons, BMO, F45 Fitness, and Adventure Alley. More development was in the works.

I wanted to go to Chinatown to do some groceries and grab a pizza slice from Fresca. But when I got to Bloor St., the temporary subway disruption last night has become a planned week-end shutdown. Despite the presence of replacement buses on the road, and their relative emptiness, they seemed like a hassle. So I made my purchases closer to home: the tiny No Frills at the Carvalo Condo on College (the selection really was limited compared to a full chain store) and croissants ($8.50) at Barbershop. I walked back along Shaw all the way to Hallam. I haven't taken this route in 5 years and there were several changes. The city has blocked off the intersection at the Essex jog, you either go North or South by car. But pedestrians and cyclists can freely move through that zone. The foundation for 12 rental town-homes was being laid at Leeds, replacing a decrepit walk-up that burned down (opportunistic developer or slumlord, take your pick).

After a pesto sandwich made with a fresh bun from Progress Bakery, I continued working on my giant crossword. I nodded off multiple times due to a tiredness from staying out for several shows this week. Given my lack of energy, I called it an early night even though seeing Lia Pappas-Kemps at The Burdock would be a full circle moment, or perhaps some young punks (Kingdom of Birds, Last Waltzon, Rosie Wyse) at St. Anne's Parish Hall in an all-ages show could be exciting. I reflected that there were only a few weeks left at my sublet: 3 months wasn't that long. Yet the daily cadence of a busy urban environment made it enjoyable. I had passed numerous people during my walk. The 20s-something might be from elsewhere, but the young kids and especially folks my age or older have probably been here most of their lives. How many of the latter were now struggling with housing costs and other expenses? They'd probably thought they'd live in Toronto all their lives.